#Again. HOW DARE YOU PULL AT MY HEART STRINGS- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

#danny speaks in formal english when he's pissed. he goes full on 'i shall eat his heart in the marketplace' levels of formal #not quite a ficlet not quite a post talking about the idea but a secret third option: its both of these at the same time #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp au #dpxdc au #dcdp #dpdc au #dp dc crossover #older brother danny #danny is an asshole with a heart of gold #the writing feels all over the place but since its not a fic i dont feel that self conscious about it lol. very much spitballing here #morally gray danny fenton #poc danny fenton #look ellie MIGHt - and thats a big if - have gotten away with the cousin lie if it weren't for the fact that she's danny's clone #danny who is not white nor remotely white-passing in this au. she might have gotten away if he had been and she claimed she was #from jack's side of the family. but alas. danny is adopted. the fentons are whiter than sunscreen. and danny is not.#dani and danny's meeting in danyal al ghul aus have the potenial of being IMMEDIATE dumpster fires which is very funny to me #on the basis of if danny knows he's adopted or not and if dani claims to be related directly to him or to jack.#dani: im your third cousin once removed :)#danny. is adopted: i kNOW YOU LYING. CUZ YO LIPS ARE MOVING #i got fanart for this au on haunting heroes discord and it kickstarted my thoughts about danyal again. they gave him the BATWING EYEBROWS #ellie has the batwing eyebrows too that was the mind killer thats what fucked her over /j. those are UNIQUELY BRUCE WAYNE BROWS FOLKS #fuck i wish tumblr told us on laptop when we run out of tags because i just lost like 4 of them. good thing i got screenies those were FUNN

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milf-murdock · 13 days

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Safety First

(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader

Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌 A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.

Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.

Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.

“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.

“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.

The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.

“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.

“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“

“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”

You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”

“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.

__________________

Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.

His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.

“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.

Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.

He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.

Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.

The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.

“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.

“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”

He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.

“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”

You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.

“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.

“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“

Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”

“Understood.” You sniffle once more.

“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.

__________________

You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”

“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”

“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.

“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.

“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”

“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.

As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.

You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.

Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.

But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.

Simon was going to teach you to shoot.

______________

That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.

“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”

“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.

“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.

__________________

You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.

Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.

With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.

The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.

As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.

“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.

“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”

“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”

“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.

Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.

Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.

“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.

You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.

“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”

“But how did you—? Should I even—?”

“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”

You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”

“Good. Then let’s get after it.”

He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.

“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.

Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”

“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”

Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.

“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”

His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”

You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—

“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”

You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”

“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?

“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.

“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.

It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.

“Alright, she’s loaded now.”

“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”

“Now you point and shoot.”

“At what?”

“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.

“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.

Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.

“Better?”

“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.

With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.

The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…

You’ve miss the target completely.

“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.

“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”

You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.

“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”

“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.

“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”

You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.

“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”

You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.

A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.

This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.

“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.

Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.

“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.

You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”

You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”

And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.

“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.

“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.

“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.

You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.

“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.

You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.

Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.

Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.

Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.

“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.

The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.

“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.

Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.

You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.

“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.

His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.

He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.

You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”

His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.

Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.

Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.

His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.

His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.

“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”

You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.

“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.

“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.

“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.

You nod fervently.

“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.

You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.

“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”

You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.

“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”

Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”

His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.

“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.

“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.

“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“

“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.

“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.

You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.

You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.

“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”

You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”

Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Something like that, love.”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” Riley x reader

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ma1dita · 1 month

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its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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dxstopiaa · 11 months

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hey hey! could i request zhongli, cyno, and tighnari with a hypersexual s/o who is actually pretty ashamed, so when they finish, they wait till theyre asleep and starts breaking down bawling their eyes out. this is kinda deep but i js want some comfort at the same time. if this is too deep or dark feel free to not do it 🫶🫶🫶

characters: zhongli, tighnari and cyno x hypersexual! gn! reader.

warnings: nsfw elements! hurt/comfort [dont worry at all anon <3 if this is something you experience, you should never feel ashamed]

zhongli

❥ That feeling was there again— the one of guilt and shame you couldn’t eradicate no matter what you told yourself. Your husband’s thick cum still coated your thighs, not daring to move nor clean it up in fear of waking him beside you.

❥ You truly envied him. Zhongli slept peacefully with arms snaked around your bare waist, not a worry present. He loved you, you knew that, yet a tide of disgust wavered over your shivering body. It retreated in the form of hot flashes, returning upon each dreadful thought that went too long considered.

❥ His forearms, dangerously close to the tears accumulating at your jaw, embraced you so gently. You were too lost in the depths of your shame to realise your sobs had grown louder, grasping onto your lover’s hands for any sort of comfort.

❥ “My darling? What has you so distraught?” Zhongli’s husky voice whispered into your ear, not doing much except influencing the developing streams of saltwater across your cheeks. Your lack of response frightened him greatly, feeling his weight shift against the head board.

❥ “Please answer me, dearest?” His heart pumped with agony at your strings of broken cries. Did he go too rough with you? Were you scared? His questions dissipated when you wrapped your frail arms around his chest. Soft, tear-ridden eyes gleamed up at him, nothing but a satin robe to distance your bodies from another.

❥ “I feel so revolted with myself. Do you feel that way too?” Your meek, shaky voice muttered such self-deprecating language left those lips he kissed with pure adoration. How could you doubt his love? His light gasp followed by a frown pulled you from the depths of overthinking.

❥ “Of course not, sweetheart. Hearing words so undervaluing from you leads me to think of the restless nights you’ve endured without my knowledge. Allow me to help you, what is it that you’d like, dear?” He fondled your shaking hand, smoothing a finger over your wedding ring.

“Anything that regards you is nothing short of perfect, i’ll prove so by whatever means.”

cyno

❥ Soft, undisturbed snores filled the room, courtesy of the sleeping general. You were still reminiscing of the events which had occurred a mere hour ago. You— who was so eager and needy for Cyno it felt humiliating. He had you on his cock nearly every day, pleasuring you albeit not making as much noise himself.

❥ Was he tired of your high libido? Was he getting bored of you? Endless questions swarmed your mind like a cyclone, twisting your perception of your boyfriend till it rained down. You couldn’t help but start to weep, tributaries of tears collecting at your chin, washing away the gentle touches Cyno had placed there prior.

❥ You shouldn’t be so obvious about it, you thought. Perhaps it’d be better to calm down in the bathroom, removing the covers from your body. You didn’t even get to lift your head from the damp pillow fully as your lover had seized your wrist.

❥ “Don’t go, hiding your tears from me won’t help you in the slightest, love.” Called out Cyno, voice raspy with slumber. Although he didn’t know what this was about, that somber expression did not suit you in the slightest. He’d rather have it gone.

❥ Eyes blurred and hazy, you glanced over at him, finally allowing him to pull you close at his side. How could you even describe this to him— say that it’s nothing or burst into tears before you even opened your mouth? Your throat felt painfully constricted.

❥ “Don’t worry, if you can’t tell me now, this can be discussed in the morning. For now, just get some rest.” Cyno comforted, tracing his thumbs over each tear-stained cheek. You didn’t need to tell him, he could already sense what was wrong.

❥ That distant look in your eyes whenever you finished quickly, the sobs he thought were of pleasure were rather subtle cries of guilt. It was quite obvious yet he was so unperceptive to not realise it till you were curled up beside him? Cyno held you closer than ever, arms framing your shivering body as if you were glass, about to shatter any second now.

“I apologise for not seeing this earlier. Let me remind you that i fell in love with the exact person you’re incorrectly ashamed of, i wouldn’t change anything about you.”

tighnari

❥ There was something off about you— Tighnari could sense it, although not place a finger on it. Your lips trembled with something he thought was fear, yet it wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’ve always been an expressive person, so why the sudden change?

❥ You were quite loud just a few minutes ago, now it seems you’ve withdrawn yourself under the cotton covers for comfort. You’d always ask for aftercare and snuggle close to him after sex, though not a single request sounded from the opposite side of the bed.

❥ If only he knew that your saline tears dampened the pillow and your lashes, the red hue that was on your cheeks had shifted up to your eyes, worn with distress. Tighnari had never mentioned anything negative to you at all, however this sickening discomfiture twisted your stomach.

❥ Despite how hard you tried to disguise the reality of your feelings, fleeing from your excessive eroticism, it’d all come down one day. Your throat closed up, a pounding migraine overtook your senses, making it all the more apparent.

❥ “Dear? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?” The forest ranger panicked— ears twitching half-confusedly. No response apart from a snivel and the rustling of the quilt which you grasped onto. Immediately, he reached for a glass of water and towel.

❥ Tighnari turned you over, fingers brushing along your jaw, patting the cool, damp fabric over your closed eyes. Wails of panic were replaced with small hiccups, breathing still irregular but not as before. Would you even want to discuss this now? He fears startling you again.

❥ Your boyfriend continued to lightly massage your head, raking his slender fingers in your tangled hair. Moments like these— where you needed him the most, he’s here for you.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t stress over this too much dearest. Get some sleep now.”

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harfanfare · 6 months

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Unique Kisses: Honest Fellow

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

a/n: fluff, implied female reader (”princess” pet name). I have no idea how to deal with the brainriot that came with the appearance of this shady man, like what.

Honest Fellow (teasing kisses)

“My little star,” Fellow’s lips trail your knuckles, and you can feel a smile against your skin as he senses your pulse quicken. He has the audacity to look so gentlemanly, oh so very blithely, as if this idea has just struck his head under this evening’s romantic atmosphere. “May I have this kiss?”

You’d like to reply, really, but in the next second there are lips on your jawline and a glowed hand that raises your chin; the words you had on your tongue die as you gasp slightly, your eyes fluttering open by the sudden sensation.

Well, you’re charmed. Infatuated with love or ensorceled by a thick layer of Fellow’s unique magic, you don’t reject those dramatic touches, scenic enough to feel like being pulled into a play where a gentlemanly prince kisses a princess.

And while Fellow might have the reputation of being a gentleman, he’s too impish, too rouge to be one. He can only play the role, the facade might even drop, but dumb princesses—you dare to compare yourself to one as Fellow uses that pet name, among countless others—are known for falling even for twisted men.

“Why so quiet?” He asks, and you quiver with frustration, as he seals your lips again. That damn bastard; he thinks the navy suit he wears makes him look sleek and the way he tucks his holey gloves off is luscious enough to make your cheeks blush. He isn’t that wrong, yet…

…It is infuriating to dance to Fellow’s tune in a choreography he is a lead to. Even if you love him.

“Stop… teasing me like this,” you manage to lift your head enough so that you break the kiss. Fellow snorts at your poor attempt to catch a breath and at the weak try to keep him at your elbow’s distance, as he holds you close to his chest. The sweet scent of the cologne he wears makes you even more dizzy.

He moves his hands to your hair and tucks the stray locks behind your ear. If he could grab the camera, he would capture the adorable expression you wear—but he doesn’t want to waste his time searching for that fickle thing, no, no. He isn’t able to concentrate on anything else, and he needs to satisfy the whim of alluring you (once again) before he’ll be physically able to move away.

“My, you don’t sound very convincing,” he smiles and strokes your cheek so gently. “But I will believe you. Loveliest, just say a word, and I’ll just kiss you goodnight for the last time.”

Like you could’ve expected, you aren’t granted a chance to say anything else. He kisses you more and more, and at this point, the most fastidious princess would be already satisfied.

…Fellow might be scared. He might not want to hear your answer, even if the look in your eyes and the way your heart beats should be enough to suffice any of his questions.

If you could utter a word, you would confess your love once for the thousandth time.

“That’s right. The silence says it all,” he whispers as his thumb traces your lips. “You are so gorgeous, and you are mine.”

Like a doll. But you’re no doll, you’re more beautiful than any masterpiece magic could ever create. You’re free, and you choose to stay with him. There are no strings attached to your hands that keep him at his side. There is just one, tightly knotted on your heart and it’s a cherished bond you put on yourself.

He doesn’t have a puppet in you. He has a lover who will shower him with selfless love, yet he still can’t believe anyone would have given it to him for free.

So, he must’ve stolen it.

He smiles. “By obligation of being a thief, I will steal your heart all over again, and keep it safe with me.” I love you. "That’s the duty I owe to myself as you are my treasure.”

#I... I have no words for this man #I hope his backstory will be heart-grabbing or sth so it will be socially acceptable to simp for him #fellowives here's your man #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #fellow honest #ferro honest #fellow x reader #fellow honest x reader #ferro x reader #ferro honest x reader #honest fellow x reader #honest ferro x reader

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acesw · 4 months

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The Grecos, Schneider, and her Religious Trauma

One of the characters I really find interesting is Schneider. There are strong signs that she has religious trauma, which ties really well with the neglect she's experienced growing up and the way this trauma reflects her behaviors and words.

The Grecos are known to be really religious, and they're quite devout to Christianity as a means of life. It does not mean that they wouldn't do things to ensure that they're able to at least eat. Living in Chicago of all places is already one struggle enough, making sure they get by despite having bad relationships with gangs adds so much.

Prior to moving, they were more devoted to God as coming from a community in Sicily. They moved because of how bad the poverty situation had been (the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s), hoping to seek a better life in America. Of all places though, they moved to Chicago, where there were crimes and gangs all about. This resulted to the Grecos having to pull strings to keep their head up the water, and they still practice Christianity as a means to maintain morale.

We then have Schneider. The youngest and most neglected child of the Grecos. She was barely fed and paid attention to among her 11 older sisters. The Narrator also notes that she was even neglected from the start, as she turned a year old before her father realized she wasn't baptized.

Now, there are two main instances that showcase Schneider's religious trauma peeking through are the traces "From One Castle to Another" and "Long Night Trip". Both of which are very much talking about Schneider's past. There are parts of the dialogue that stick out to me.

-From One Castle to Another

"It's impossible to keep every child well-fed. Schneider could not even get a piece of bread in the Eucharist. But a good daughter would not let anyone worry about her. She sat on the bench outside the church and hummed. She found a way out for herself."

"The Grecos are among them. They're covered by the dark cloud of long-handed umbrellas. [...] But you can't find Schneider. [...] It rains heavier. The priest opens his arms to embrace the sky, 'The Lord be with you.' " " 'And also with you.' Schneider responds in a voice that could hardly be heard. She puts her hand on her heart. This is the first time she responds to the Lord. And it will be the last."

-Long Night Trip

The Narrator talks about Schneider's slow descent into losing her faith in these conversations. She used to pray and hope that God would fix things and give an answer for her and her family's suffering. And all that happened was that it got worse.

It only ever makes Schneider question and doubt, and eventually she stops believing in God. But everyone around her, her family in particular, still maintains their strong belief that he'd guide them out of struggle. Meanwhile, she take things into her own hands for that matter.

And again, everyone would resort to praying, praying, and praying. Yet Schneider wouldn't dare try. Because if he listened to her this one time then they heard all the other times and never cared to help. That rubs salt in the wound.

So with this, we see how Schneider creates her newfound identity. She starts frequenting underground markets and doing certain odd jobs. She is able to make amends with other gang leaders and grow her own strong faction in Chicago.

All so she makes enough money for the rest of her family to eat and thrive. It showcases her sense of selflessness, her full care for her family despite how they treated her. She cares for them more than anything, because even with barely receiving love, they're the ones that raised her. Schneider actively does it all to prove that she can give.

Even in the main story there are those hints of that trauma seeping through. Throughout the game she refers to her bosses as "My Lord", a name that's usually reserved for God.

In the 'Green Oranges' segment of chapter 2, we see that Schneider's younger self describes America as a new world. A place of wonders, where blessings will be given and all sins will be forgiven. There, "God loves the world". Because back in Sicily, she believes that God does not love her and her family here. This ties back to the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s, where again, the poverty situation had been so bad. Not to mention the overpopulation and the natural disasters that came with it.

Meanwhile, her adult self is heavily injured from the gunshot wounds and Vertin stops shooting her. She expresses her frustration of being unable to die fast, which then turns to this: "Or did God finally forgive me...He allowed me...to stay alive!!"

"God would never make or guide one to that first action," Schneider thinks, because only she alone did it. She decided to step in, with no guidance of the God she once loved. The God that never forgave her.

The entirety of chapter 1 and 2 shows that her trauma runs really deep. The youngest and most neglected child turns into the most diligent and faithless Greco. She expresses her clear disdain for God, and does everything in her own power to do what "he never did for her and her family."

#reverse 1999 #schneider #schneider reverse 1999 #character analysis #she and marian definitely reunited with their family #they deserve their happy ending #schneider needs a hug

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pamgkrthwrites · 9 months

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Trigger warnings!!!: Implied past sexual assault, implied violence, Soulmate AU, Fantasy AU, Bakugou x Reader, written on phone so autocorrect is my enemy.

Barbarian!Bakugou raids villages because he is looking for the name on his wrist, his soulmates. You.

You has search many villages and has yet to find you.

That’s is until he finds a small cottages with some animals, a large garden farm and a water full to keep fresh water, in the middle of nowhere.

He sees you and your small 4-5 year old daughter. You treat her as if she is a priceless crystal glassware that is so fragile.

He knows it’s you, he can feel the string on his heart pull him towards you. You must feel it too considering there are times you look into the tree line where in the discretion he is hiding in.

You’ll never see him though.

The day he does make himself known is where it’s raining a storm outside. Bakugou knocks on your door and asks for shelter until the storm pasts.

All he sees is fear in your eyes.

You let him in, but you keep yourself far away from him. He at first thinks it’s because he is clearly a barbarian.

That is until he notices just a few things. Like when he steps towards you too fast and you quickly rushed to the far side of the room. Like when you go to bed, bringing your daughter in with you and lock the door with several locks. Like when he hears you crying to your daughter that you won’t let a man touch her.

It clicks in, and he can feel a violent rage build up in his blood.

He’s going to find the thing that did this to you, and he will kill them. Slowly.

When the storm pasts he says his thanks and leaves. He doesn’t want you under more stress than you clearly are in.

It’s only after his sword is covered in blood does he remember. He never told you his name.

Shit-

He returns to you with Kirishima and Mina behind him. He was hoping that if Mina was with him, you’d be less scared.

He also brings 6 goats as “thanks” for you housing him during the storm.

He still sees the fear in your eyes, but it’s a bit more calm with Mina being there and with the goats.

This time before he leaves, he tells you his name.

“Stop calling me Barbarian! I have a name, y’know! It’s Bakugou Katsuki!”

He only looks in your eye for a second before leaving again.

He won’t be forgetting the look of realisation in your eyes and how they softened a little.

He won’t push you to love him, or even be nice to him while you still clearly live in your fear. He will however visit you once a fortnight so you get use to him.

He won’t touch you until you ask, and he doesn’t dare touch your daughter until you give him permission to.

It’s takes years for you to grant him permission to kiss you, but he doesn’t mind. He knows you needed it at this pace, he’ll never push you. He’ll never force you to do anything.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #Bakugou x reader #Bakugo c reader #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugo x reader #Bakugo Katsuki x reader #fantasy au #fantasy bakugou #my hero academia fantasy au #barbarian bakugou #bakugou x soulmate #soulmate au

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sapphic-pikachu · 1 year

Text

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Arthur makes good on his promise to teach you how to shoot. You struggle with this time alone with him due to your seemingly unrequited feelings for him.

Warnings: sfw, guns, shooting, bullets, me not knowing anything about guns so being intentionally vague about them, reader and Arthur are both fools, kissing, Arthur and reader are touched starved, physical affection

A/N: @sharinkashaf Fucking please let Arthur teach reader how to shoot. ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for the idea for this one! also thank you for all the love on my first one shot that I posted the other day, I will be working on a part 2 for it! please if you have any ideas or things you want to see me write for Arthur let me know! once again, warning that it has been years since I’ve last written anything so it’s not perfect

You smirked into your coffee mug as the high pitched whines of Sean’s complaints sounded around camp. You had been half sitting on one of the camps tables, watching as Tilly had defeated Sean in dominoes for what must have been the fifth time in a row. Despite Sean’s insistence that the younger girl must have been cheating, or was secretly a professional dominos player, his words were met with rolling of eyes and laughter as the games continued.

There was a good mood sunken over the camp that morning. It had seemed like you had all reached a string of good luck - for once, you didn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The donation box was full, people were smiling amongst themselves and even the coffee didn’t taste as bad as it normally did.

You knew who this all was thanks to. For weeks, Arthur had been slaving himself, constantly out of camp and on missions, scouting out new resources and pulling through with every plan Dutch had given him. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him, but you willed yourself not to turn to look for him, even though you had noted his absence near the centre of camp all morning. Silently, you prayed that wherever he was, he was able to take advantage of the peacefulness in camp that he had helped bring about.

A hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump and loose grip of your coffee mug. With one hand still on your shoulder, Arthur swooped in and grabbed your mug before it could clatter to the ground. Speak of the devil, you thought - you didn’t dare say it out loud, not wanting the man to know how at home he was in your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” he said, his body so close to yours’ that it felt like he was whispering directly into your ear.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your coffee mug and what little coffee remained in it was forgotten as Arthur set it on the table you rested by.

“S’alright. Didn’t startle me too bad.” you replied, craning your head to look up at him from your close proximity. Arthur just stared back at you, seemingly in thought.

“You need something?” You asked, suddenly aware that any moment longer in this position might have you spontaneously combust into flames.

Arthur blinked, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. His lack of touch made the spot on your shoulder where his hand had sat feel cold.

“Was just wondering if you’d be free. Shooting practice. Like I’d promised you.”

You remembered this promise vividly. You had been certain that he hadn’t though. It had been weeks since that talk. You had been running with the gang for close to a year now. While you were good at pickpocketing and scamming out drunk men, you were deeply aware that your gun work needed immense practice. There had been more than a few close calls that frightened you by now, ones that would have frightened you less had you been more skilled in shooting. Your skills were passable - you could pull the trigger on the gun enough times to scare off more passive enemies but you were slow to draw and even slower to hit where you wanted to. After a few drinks round the camp fire, you had confessed this insecurity to Arthur. You weren’t sure why him. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was the best gunman in camp by far. Maybe because you were hopelessly in love with him.

You took a deep breath to try simmer down the swell of emotion in your chest. He had drunk that night too - you were certain that his promise to make you a better shooter was just the alcohol speaking.

“We’ll make a proper gunslinger of you yet, darlin’.” he had slurred, before chugging another sip of whiskey and passing you the bottle. When you drank from the bottle after him, you did it slowly: it wasn’t just the whiskey you’d wanted a taste of now.

“I’m free. I’ll just go get my horse ready-”

“Ain’t no need. We won’t go far, we can just go on mine if it’s alright with you.” he interrupted, breaking his stare from you to peer off at nothing beside him. His hand rubbed at where his shirt collar touched his neck as he waited for your response. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“S’alright with me. Where we going?” At your confirmation, he began to walk off with you beside him towards where his mare stood.

“I set up some targets in the clearing east of ‘ere earlier this morning. Empty enough we’ll not be heard, but still close enough to camp that we won’t be bothered by anyone,” He replied, setting up a layer of blanket just behind his saddle on his horse, “You alright sitting behind?”

You would sit anywhere as long as it let you be close to him. You didn’t tell him that - you just hummed a yes and watched as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sitting slightly farther forward than he usually would.

He held out his hand and you accepted it, trying to ignore how small you felt in his grasp. You have yourself a boost with one leg in the empty stirrups, and flung your other leg over the horse.

“Sitting alright?” He asked. Your hand was still in his, his finger closed over yours with his thumb gently dragging up and down your hand in a way that weirdly comforted you. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but it was increasingly difficult for you not to.

“Yeah, m’fine.” You responded. You felt like your whole body was on fire. Your chest was pressed up against his back, your knees pressing against his upper thighs to secure your place on the horse.

Arthur’s thumb stopped moving as if it suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding your hand. He released it, grabbing his horse’s rope and grunting a response back to you. With your hands now free, you placed them underneath his bent arms, gingerly clutching onto his waist. If your touch had bothered him, Arthur did not say.

Your journey to the clearing was uneventful and quiet. An uneasy anxiety settled over your stomach. You had wished that Arthur could have a day of peace, but here he was, having to teach you how to shoot because you were too bad of a shot to protect yourself. You felt bad that you had pressured him into this. You felt bad that he was always made to look after everyone in camp all of the time. You felt bad that despite this, all you could think about was the feeling of his stomach underneath your fingertips as your arms wrapped around his waist.

His horse came to a stop and you could see what Arthur had been doing all morning. Crates had been stacked up around a tree, the various heights of the crates displaying different sizes and shapes of tins and glass bottles. The bottles had been placed in the branches of the tree itself, with shards of glass strung up, hanging down from the tree by strands of a thin rope. The sun shone down on the tree, reflecting the colours of the glass onto the ground, a mirage of different colours.

“Wow. This looks great Arthur. Like a proper shootin’ range an’ all.” You said to him as he stood on the grass beside you, helping you down from his horse.

“S’nothin’. Just took a lil’ time this morning.” He looked away from you, pulling his hand away from yours once your feet were steady on the ground. He rubbed at his neck again.

“It ain’t nothing, Arthur. Must’ve took some time. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry, I know you got better things to be doing.” It was getting hard to swallow with how full your heart felt.

Arthur turned his head back to you at your words. His brow furrowed as he began to speak.

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry about. There ain’t nothing better for me to do but to spend time with you.” Arthur froze slightly at the end of his sentence, as if he had said something he didn’t mean to say. A slight blush spread across his face and he looked away from you again.

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

Arthur nodded before turning and getting his pistol out of his saddle bag behind you. Upon a further glance, you realised it wasn’t his usual pistol at all. It was new you thought, a shiny Schofield Revolver with a pearl handle and gold metal. Something was engraved onto the frame, but in the reflection of the sun you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Arthur passed you the gun and a hand full of bullets, indicating for you to get the gun ready. Thankfully, this was something you didn’t need taught - after finishing, you hand the gun back to Arthur where he inspects it and hums out a response.

He passes you back the gun and begins walking closer to the tree. As you follow him, you note that he’s created a guideline in the grass of where the stand, with another stack of creates beside it. He sits down on the crates and nods for you to stand in position on the grass.

“I just want to see what we’re working with first - aim for the glass bottles on the second row if you can,” He says, leaning back on the crate and taking out an apple from his bag. He starts to cut it into slices with his knife, eating it piece by piece.

You hold the gun in front of you with two hands. You’re trembling slightly. You hate the fact that he’s watching you. More than that, you hate the fact that he’s watching you and you don’t know what he’s thinking.

The sound and recoil of the gun makes you jump slightly. You miss any bottle completely, the bullet skimming into the vacant air beside the crates. You shoot again, less shocked by the recoil this time, but still an awful shot. Again, you shoot, this time hitting the corner of one of the crates. It’s still no where near where your aiming, but you’re hitting something so you can’t help but feel slightly proud. You shoot, again, again, again. You manage to hit a tin can four objects down from the bottle you aim for on the second row. Your ears are ringing in your head and your hands feel tight from their grip around the gun. From behind you, you hear Arthur come towards you from his place on the crate. He’s good at going unnoticed when he wants to despite his large size, but now, he makes his presence known to you, his chest skimming your back.

“Right foot backwards, steady yourself.” He’s leaning his head down to speak directly to your ear. Your heart beats a little bit quicker but you follow his request, moving your right leg slightly backwards till it connects with his. You position your foot right in front of his. His left leg adjusts to settle right behind your left one. Your breathing gets a bit quicker also.

“Need you completely straight. Always facing towards where your aiming to match up your sights.” His voice rings in your head. Need you, need you, need you. His hands land on either side of your waist, swivelling you slightly to face you completely towards the tree, your legs staying in the same position supported by the feeling of his behind you. You think his hands stay on your waist a few seconds longer than they should do.

He guides his hands up to your shoulders. He moves them slightly too, more gentle than anyone who’s ever met him would ever expect him to be capable of. Except you. From the day you’d met Arthur, you knew exactly what he would be capable of, despite his insistence that he was a bad man. But you knew: a bad man would not be spending his day holding you so close and so gently like this for no benefit of his own.

He grabs each of your hands with his own from underneath your arms. He’s holding them up, supporting you, slightly stretching forward now to position the gun in front of you. His front is fully pressed up against you. You can feel it now - his own heartbeat is just as quick as yours.

His head is resting against yours, his neck craning down to adjust to your smaller size in comparison to his.

Together, as one, you lift the gun to aim at the bottle on the second row. His finger wraps around yours to guide you into pulling the trigger. He speaks again, so close to you he’s almost apart of you, his voice meant for nothing else except for speaking to you.

“Breathe in as you aim. Keeps you still,” You do as he tells you, feeling his own chest expand behind you and you breath together, “Shoot on the exhale. You got this sweetheart.”

You exhale at the same time as him, the heaviness of your breaths cancelled out by the loud bang as the shot rings out. You hear a splinter and crack as your bullet collides with its target. Not dead centre, but you’ve hit it, and that’s good enough. If you were so preoccupied on steadying your heartbeat at the feeling of Arthur pressing against you, you might have cried out in triumph.

“Good girl.” Arthur whispers to you. You aren’t sure if it’s the sound of the bullets ringing in your ears or his voice anymore. You know that because you can feel his heartbeat in his chest behind you, he can feel yours too. You know that the smirk you feel spread across his face as he presses against the side of your head is because he can feel how his praise made your heart skip another beat.

You keep shooting like that; Arthur guiding you with his own body and you hitting every target every time. After a while Arthur pulls his arms back from yours. You almost deflate at his absence but he doesn’t remove himself from your back. Instead he places his hands on your waist and tells you to keep going.

When you shoot again, Arthur’s lack of guidance is noticeable - but not extremely. You’re better than you were, the bullet landing a centimetre off from the tin can you now aim for. You shoot again creating a whole just off the centre of the can. You shoot again, the bullet disappearing seamlessly into the previous hole. Arthur squeezes at your hips as you grin.

It continues on like that: you shoot, more often than not hitting the target spot on or hitting it on your second try, and Arthur, a constant behind you squeezing his hands in congratulations on your waist, inching them closer and closer until eventually he has almost enveloped you completely in a backwards hug. He murmurs appreciation every so often, and your heart has stopping beating a little quicker every time this happens. In fact, his mere presence has made your constant heartbeat so fast already that there is little change.

The gun clicks, the chamber empty. You’re scared to breathe, worried that any sudden move will scare Arthur out of your arms, like a prey spotting it’s hunter. But it’s Arthur who breaks the stillness, removing his hands from your waist to bring your arms down to your chest, the gun still clutched between your hands. His arms come to clutch around your waist again, circling you completely as his hands meet by your stomach. You feel him swallow heavily. In this moment, there is nothing else in the world but him behind you and his hands round your waist.

You hold the gun in one hand and with the other you gently place it over his hands on your stomach: you’re scared that as you spin in place on your feet to face him that he’ll move away, so you hold his hands in place.

You can’t meet his eyes, looking at his chest and downwards as you place the gun from your hand into his holster around his waist. It’s your turn to swallow heavily now.

As you raise your gaze to look at his face, you find him already staring at you. You are still, desperately away of his hands, now settled low on the small of your back.

“That was great work there.” He says, not breaking eye contact with you as his voice barely breaks past a whisper.

“I had a great teacher.” You whisper back. He smiles at that, and you smile back as though you’ve just shared a secret meant just for the two of you. As the blue of his eyes brighten in the sun, you think that maybe you have.

His head tilts downwards, just barely enough to notice it. But you notice. You’ve always noticed every detail about Arthur, just as he’s always noticed you.

“Please.” You ask him, voice quiet and pleading as you break his stare to glance towards his lips.

He answers.

You’re practically on your toes, supported by his tightened grip around your back. His mouth connects to yours, gently and unsure at first. You hand comes up to rest against the side of his face, the other holding on to the collar of his shirt, brushing against his neck. At this, his kiss deepens, pulling you tighter against him. You use your grip on his collar to do the same, pulling yourself as close as you can into his chest.

After the moment passes, you both pull apart. He rests his forehead against yours. He’s breathing heavily, eventually chuckling out a laugh on the exhale.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.” You can hear the smile in his voice with your eyes still closed. His hands on your back, his forehead against yours. You feel like every atom in your body is on fire. For a while, he had said. For a while, you thought back, that I have been missing out on every moment like this.

“Should’ve done it sooner, then. Thought it was just me feeling like this.” You said, a deep sigh erupting from your chest. He can hear the smile in your voice too.

One hand leaves it place at your waist to hold your face. Не pulls further away to look down at you. He’s still smiling.

“And I thought it was just me.”

There’s a little bit of an ache in your chest. A bit of sadness on how long you both had wasted hiding away from each other. But neither of you are hiding now. You press your palm against his chest and feel his heart beat under his shirt. It’s fast, just like yours.

A moment passes before you both realise there is more than each other left in the word. The sky has darkened considerably, the sun settling in the early evening. Neither of you had eaten and you were both starting to feel a hunger for something other than each other.

“We should probably head back to camp.” You say, still unmoving from your proximity to him. Neither of you want to leave this moment.

“Probably. And you can show off everything you’ve learnt today.” He says. He still cradles your face in his hands, his thumb moving softly back and forth on the apple of your cheek.

“Everything I’ve learnt?” You smirk up at his, loosing your previous fixation of your hand on his chest. He chuckles, and he feel the movement of his chest course right through you.

“Maybe not everything.” He replies, his eyes soft as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel the moment come to a close. Not wanting to waste any last second you could spend alone with Arthur like this, after having missed out on so many others in the past, you cling to every bit of it. Before either of you can detach from the other, you grab him by his shirt collar again and pull him down for another kiss.

Additional Content:

You both depart from Arthur’s horse a little before necessary as you make the journey back to camp. The horse clambers along behind you both. You’re both pensive and quiet, but when your hand grazes against his from it’s place by your side, Arthur grasps it and keeps it intertwined with his. You walked further before Arthur’s stops to a sudden holt, his grip on your hand forcing you to stop with him.

“Almost forgot.” He murmured, looking bashful as his cheeks blushed red. He reached down with his other hand, not loosing his hold on your hand, grabbing hold of the pistol you had practiced with and holding it out to you.

You aren’t sure what he means so you respond by raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for him to expand.

“S’a gift. For you. Got it custom in town for ya.” He’s still blushing but he manages to glance into your eyes. He’s searching for something, and you realise he’s worried about how you’ll respond.

You can see the engraving on the gun more clearly now as it rests in his hand. Flowers, your favourite, blooming up through an imprint on the outside of the metal. Your name intertwines with the flowers, the letters flowing into the blossoming leaves.

You reach out towards his outstretched hand, but instead of grabbing the pistol you clasp your hand together with his and pull yourself towards him. You press a small kiss to his lips and as you pull away you smile at him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say looking up at him, hoping he found what he was searching for before, “for everything.

#rdr x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan #Arthur Morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Denial

König x F!reader

As chosen by my lovely blorbos and followers 👹

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut ahead

It can be a surprise for you so no more warnings

Staring at the clock it read 02:00, he should be home soon. Excitement brewed in your stomach at the thought of your boyfriend finally finishing his 4 month long mission. Finally being in the same country as you. Finally being in the same room as you. Finally being about to touch you. It had been too long.

It had been too long for König too. Four months of you torturing him, sending him videos of you cumming on your fingers, on your toys. Moaning his name, your body writhing on the Egyptian cotton sheets of your shared bed. He'd pumped his cock far too many times to even get any satisfaction anymore. He needed to feel you, all of you.

Led on your side you heard the slam of a car door, a devilish grin spread over your lips. Knowing full well the four months of pictures and videos you sent him would have made him feral, you couldn’t wait for him to take the frustration out on you.

The front door slammed shut.

Heavy foot steps trudged up the wooden stairs, leading to your room.

Butterflies tickled your rib cage as they swarmed around your heart.

He was home.

The door opened, as you pretended to be asleep you heard him drop his bag down and go to the bathroom. The anticipation was killing you. The shower turned on and you heard the droplets of water smash against his skin. His warm soft skin. You kept facing away from the door still pretending to be asleep.

The shower switched off and you heard him drying himself off as he walked back into your shared room. The bed dropped as he slid in behind you, a soft grunt escaped his lips as he settled down. That’s when a strong arm encased your waist yanking you towards him. ‘I know you’re not sleeping maus’ he whispered, his breathed fanning over your skin. He placed a tender kiss behind your ear as he pulled you closer still.

You could feel his erection poking into your lower back, subconsciously you rolled you hips back into him. Still staying silent. He snaked his hand into your pyjama shorts and along you slit, pleasantly surprised to find you already soaking. ‘Already maus? Miss me that much?’ He taunted whilst he nipped your earlobe.

A quiet ‘yes’ broke from your lips as you turned your head to kiss him. Stopping you he hovered above your ear a devilish smirk on his face. ‘Not tonight, you really think you could send me those pictures and videos? And not get punished?’ A needy yet subtle whimper escaped from your chest at his words.

Dragging his finger along your slit his pressed on your clit, ‘what do good girls get?’ He asked, moving his finger in a delicate circle. ‘Good things’ you signed.

‘And what to bad girls get?’ He asked again, still making circle motions. ‘Nothing’ you whined, you’d missed his touch for so long you were half way to orgasm already. ‘Exactly’ he chided, and with that he removed his finger bringing it to his mouth, savouring your taste on his tongue.

Pulling your shorts down he placed his aching cock at your entrance. ‘Please König’ you half sobbed, knowing exactly what he was going to do. ‘Should have thought of this before you teased me for so long. You get nothing. I’m gonna cum … but you’re not.’

He proceeded to slide his cock up and down your weeping cunt, gathering your juices as he did so. It felt divine, he’d missed you terribly but now was his chance to get his own back. He knew how much you needed him, how much you longed for him to fuck you. But he’d make you wait. The tip of his cock hit your clit with every stroke, sending you closer and closer to orgasm. But he knew your body, he knew the signs.

Removing his cock from you he pumped himself, breathing heavily in your ear. Soft moans and groans brushed against your skin, sending goosebumps across your aching body. A string of curses left him as he gently pushed his tip against your hole, not daring to push in any further. You panted beneath him, trying to contain a sob that built up in your chest.

This was torture.

He kept this pattern going, making sure to keep his movements excruciatingly slow. Making sure you drive you to the edge only to pull away at the last minute. Had it been minutes? Hours? You had no clue, losing all concept of time. He nipped at your neck as he whimpered, blowing hot air through his pursed lips as be savoured the feeling. ‘Fuck … König …. Fuck please’ you finally choked out, ‘I can’t … please … please.’

Releasing his cock he placed his hand around your neck, squeezing gently. ‘Oh darling, I expected more. That you could take … more.’ His tone was evil, you felt him smile against your cheek as he pushed his cock through your thighs once more. Tears were stinging the corners of your eyes as he continued to thrust against you, rather than in you. ‘Maybe you’ll think twice about teasing me next time hmm?’

‘Fuck … yes … I’m sorry’ you cried out as his hand caressed your body, working its way back down to his cock. He was a stubborn prick, you knew damn well he wasn’t going to let you cum tonight. That he was going to teach you a lesson. You gripped his huge arm that lay beneath you, digging your nails into his skin. He hissed in your ear as he rolled his hips into you. ‘Now now, you chose this maus. Be a good girl and take it.’

His voice was thicker than tar, deep and possessive as he made sure he moaned against your ear. Making your hear how you made him feel, how you’d tortured him for months. His hand picked up pace as he pumped his cock, revelling in your pleas and moans of contempt and frustration.

He brought you to the edge so many times, but withdrawing as soon as he felt you clench against him. Tutting in your ear as you bucked your hips, trying feverishly to feel some relief. You felt him become sloppy, knowing he was close. He bit his lip as he came against your neglected hole. You felt his cock pulsate against you as his cum painted your aching cunt.

Tears of frustration fell from your eyes as you whined in disbelief. He placed another tender kiss behind your ear as he used his finger to push his cum into you. The sudden intrusion of his thick finger sent a jolt through your body as you gasped for air. A strangled moan left your throat as you threw you head back onto his chest. He scoffed against your neck ‘always so needy and pathetic aren’t you?’

‘Mmm hmm’ you just about managed to moan through your tightly pressed lips. Eyes screwed shut as you savoured the sensation.

As he removed his finger you let out another whine ‘I fucking hate you.’ He chuckled deeply as he turned your head to face him, hovering just above your lips you felt the fucker smile as he kissed you. ‘I know.’

——-

Taglist (those who showed interest in the original post) - @brewed-pangolin @bearsbeetsbeskar

Inspiration from this tik tok - https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJmCNDVd/

#call of duty #cod mw22 #konig x you #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig smut #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #könig call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #könig fanfiction #könig x you

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starlightrosa · 14 days

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Fizzarolli's Nerves

Summary: Fizzarolli is preparing for Mammon's yearly clown contest, and he's getting nervous, as he just has to be perfect. But all this practicing is disrupting Asmodeus's plan of relaxing with his beloved. That won't do at all.

Pairing: Fizz/Asmodeus

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing, Mind-Rotting Fluff. (Author regrets nothing.)

(My very first fic! Please be nice <3)

“You’ll do it, Fizz. You’ll be fine. You need to be perfect for Mammon. Always perfect.” the imp mumbled, practicing everything he felt he needed to practice in order to win Mammon’s clown contest for the tenth time in a row. Fizz knew the elements of the contest off by heart, having won it so many times. So everything running through that little imp’s head was covered.

Balloon animals. Pie gags. Comedy section. Singing, dancing, acrobatics. You name it, Fizz practiced it. There was certainly no shortage on what Fizzarolli could do, and he had to win. He had to be perfect.

That was how Asmodeus, King of Lust and Fizz’s loving partner- er, BUSINESS partner, found him.

“What’s the difference between a snowman and a snow-woman? The snowballs! Wait, no. More energy, I need to have lots more energy. Like, twenty seven coffees kinda energy. Okay. You got this, Fizz. You got this. Try again. What’s the difference between a snow man and a snow woman? The snowballs! Hmm, still missing something. What could I do? Maybe I could juggle? Do a pose? Maybe I could hit myself in the face with a snowball? Um… ah, think, Fizz!” the jester rambled.

Ozzie yawned as he came into the living room where Fizz was, the rooster rubbing at his eyes.

“Froggie, it’s eight in the morning. Are you seriously practicing this early in the morning? Come back to bed, babe. You’re gonna be exhausted…” Asmodeus murmured, the grand lord rubbing at his eyes.

Alas, the imp did not heed Ozzie’s warning.

“Ozzie, I have to be perfect for Mammon. If I’m not perfect, then I’ll lose! And I don’t wanna lose, that just-! Ugh. It just can’t happen, okay? I need to be perfect. I need to be better than perfect! I-!”

And that was when Ozzie got on his knees and scooped Fizz off the ground, pulling his beloved into a hug. Despite initially struggling to get out, Fizz soon relaxed and sunk his head into his lover’s chest.

“Fizzie~” Ozzie coaxed, using that voice that Fizz liked to hear. Honey rich and sweet, it always comforted Fizzarolli enough to talk about what was bothering him, and it brought Ozzie some peace of mind to be able to know what was distressing his beloved imp partner.

“Ugh. Ozz, what if I’m not good enough this year? What if I don’t win?” Fizz asked. Ozzie just chuckled.

“Fizz, you’ve won for nine times straight. Ten times this year, guaranteed. And you wanna know why you win so much? Cause you got some talent about you. Plus, Mammon says he wants the best, and we all know you’re the best he’s got. And besides, if that fat Christmas tree wants something better, he just isn’t gonna find it. Plus he won’t give the others a chance, he’ll pull the strings so you win anyway, and I’ll put money on that bullshit.”

“I need to win, Oz! And I need to practice if I want to win. Can you let me go?” Fizz asked, trying to gently pry himself out of Asmodeus’s arms. The King of Lust, however, did not budge a single bit.

“Well, I would on any other day, but I am not having my Fizzie Frog being anxious as fuck. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go back to bed, watch a stupid rom-com, and laugh at it, spending time with each other along the way.”

“Nice thought. But maybe later, Ozzie.” Fizz murmured. And that was when Asmodeus’s grip tightened slightly.

“I don’t think I phrased it as a question, Froggie~” Asmodeus responded, the Lord of Lust’s fingers moving slightly towards Fizz’s stomach. Fizz squirmed a little in Ozzie’s arms, already knowing where this was going.

“Ozzie, don’t you fucking dare!” Fizz yelped, biting back a smile.

“Oh, but I do fucking dare, baby~ give Ozzie that tum-tum, and I’ll tickle those worries right outta ya!” he declared, his fingers finally landing as he snuck them up Fizzarolli’s jester shirt, softly poking and scratching along Fizz’s belly.

Poor Fizzarolli had no chance to resist.

“Pffffhahahaha! O-Ozziehehehe!” Fizz giggled, gently squirming side to side in his lover’s arms, trying to gently slap Asmodeus’s tickly fingers off.

“Hands to yourself, Froggie. Don’t make me get them out of the way~” Asmodeus teased.

Fizz pouted playfully even as he struggled a bit. Rough tickles made him laugh a lot, but these soft and gentle tickles were much worse sometimes if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

ESPECIALLY if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

Ozzie saw the playful pout and he tutted. His Fizzy, pouting at tickles? Oh, that just would not do, no sir.

Asmodeus migrated his gentle scratches down to Fizzarolli’s hips, enjoying the squeaky laughter that slipped out of his beloved’s mouth. “Aww, someone’s squeaky. Squeaky Fizzie.”

“Hahahaha!!! A-Asmodeus, it tickles! Q-Quihihit it!” Fizzarolli managed to press out, a dark black blush adorning his cheeks. Asmodeus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop audibly cooing at how goddamn cute his boyfriend was being.

“Not until you agree to come relax with me, Froggie. Just say that you’re done practicing for the day and these tickles will stop. How ‘bout that, huh? Seems a fair deal to me.”

“B-But I can’t stop!”

“If you can’t stop, then neither do these tickles, Froggie.” Asmodeus cooed, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers slipped up to Fizz’s torso to prove a point, beginning to gently count his beloved’s ribs. “Two. Four. Six. Eight…”

Fizzarolli was lost in snorting laughter as he felt Asmodeus’s fingers lightly working his ribs.

“Ahahahaha, hehehehe! N-Not fahahahair, Ozzie! Hahahahaha!” Fizzarolli cackled, the odd snort leaving him. For Lucifer’s sake, how could one imp be this cute? Asmodeus felt his heart squeeze in adoration with every snort that came from Fizzarolli’s mouth.

“All is fair in love and laughter, Froggie.” Asmodeus shot back.

Fizzarolli threw his head back, his jester’s hat jangling as he did so. Satan’s beard, it tickled so much!

“Aah! Ah, ah! Nohohohohahaha! Ozzie, not there! Not there, plehehehease!!” Fizzarolli begged, feeling his lover’s fingers tracing at that one spot at the crook of his neck.

Ozzie only chuckled, not stopping the traces. “I’ve not even done anything yet, Fizzie Frog. You can’t be that ticklish here, surely?” he asked, though Ozzie knew much, much differently. It was one of his little rituals he did. Before they both went to bed, Ozzie would give a gentle kiss on Fizz’s neck each night. The imp was rather ticklish on his neck though, and the feeling of Fizz slamming his face into Ozzie’s chest, trying to muffle his ticklish giggles never failed to bring a smile to the Sin’s face.

“N-No, I’m nohohohot!” Fizz lied, immediately going for the defensive move. But Asmodeus was no fool when it came to his beloved partner. Ozzie knew Fizz’s tells, just as Fizzarolli knew his.

“Is that so, Froggie? Funny, I seem to remember that you can barely handle my goodnight kisses on that neck of yours. Like, all I do is this…” he explains, landing a kiss on Fizzarolli’s neck, right into the crook of his neck with an overexaggerated “MWAH!” noise, grinning wickedly. “…And you just fall about laughing!”

Fizz, as expected, burst into hysterical giggles as he kicked his robotic legs every which way, trying desperately to not kick his beloved in the face.

“O-Ozzie! Stop it, hahaha! Stop it, that tickles, Ozzie!” Fizz cried out, a wide smile betraying his true feelings.

Then Asmodeus decided to get a little bit mean. He gently held Fizz against his chest and nuzzled the crook of his imp partner’s neck… before blowing a soft raspberry into the crook. Fizz absolutely squealed.

“EEEEEEEEK! HAHAHA, AAAH HAHAHA! SHIT, HAHA! OKAY, OZZIE, OKAY!” the ticklish little imp shrieked, going limp in Asmodeus’s arms. And that was when Ozzie knew he’d had enough.

“Thought as much, babe.” Asmodeus smirked, finally switching the mood from playful to cuddly as he stopped the tickles, his fingers softly scratching the top of Fizzarolli’s head. The imp melted under his touch as Ozzie walked back to their shared bedroom, the doors closing behind them.

Asmodeus settled Fizz under the covers with him. And soon the pair drifted off, smiles on both of their faces as the sounds of that dumb rom-com in question, Pretty Woman, played in the background forgotten by them both.

Finito! Hope you enjoyed this one :)

#helluva boss tickle #lee!fizzarolli #ler!asmodeus #ticklish!fizzarolli #helluva boss fic #tickle fic #rosa writes

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dedfly · 1 month

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Hi I have an idea in general

I give Shadow Milk cookie Yandere and HYPNOTISM.

Please 🙂

Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Tw: Use of hypnosis, forced relationship, manipulation, mind games(?) cursing

† Oh how he hate, hate what one thing, one cookie he love so deeply just out of his reach

†How can you not love HIM this is just ridiculous. It's not supposed to be that way

† Well lucky you, still plane and simple like all the other cookies

† He just uses his power on you here and there no biggie (*´﹀`*)

† ♪ Some little addition here, some little correct there ♪

† Oh how he want to just control your every step.

† Bleh it's not as fun.

† He wants you not some silly puppet

† So yeah basically he used his hypnosis occasionally. Especially then you get to "feisty"

† What do you mean "How dare he ruined the world and friends you love" ? No, no, no forget these stupid thoughts, this little vermins, he is your lover, your friend and your world

no one else matters

This threads wrapped around your body against, always trapping you. Not letting you wonder too far away. Despite the fact that it is useless, you still try to get out, just like a wild bird caught in a snare.

"Awww. Are you trying to escape from me again?" Shadow Milk Cookie cooed. The way his voice came everywhere and at the same time out of nowhere scared you more than the threads around your limbs.

"I just need to go for walk, I can't be here anymore! I need some air" You squeezed out, your voice breaking, your heart beating wildly in your chest, a lump stuck in your throat from this disgusting feeling. The way he took your freedom, your... Fuck. This bastard did something to your head, it's all foggy and messy. It's like some part are missing and the realization made it even worse. You felt the threads coil around your exhausted body even more tightly, pulling in his direction, an inexorable reminder of your helplessness. You didn't even notice what he is now here.

Oh how you wished that all this was just a bad dream. And instead of claws on your face, feel his soft fingers. Well, here we go again... Something deep down tells you that he wasn’t always like this, but your brain simply refuses-

"Oh what's wrong, blue bird?" he said as if mocking someone, you can't quite remember "Running away from me again~ Didn't I tell you not to be so cruel to me, my love?"

He slowly lifted your head making you look into his eyes before he kissed your lips briefly. All that while you heard in your mind "Y/N, Y/N you silly cookie you should be around your loved ones, never leave him behind." Soothingly like a breeze in your head, making you relax, feeling the same fog in your brain. You thoughts started to disappear, you don't want to fight anymore. It's so stupid to even think about it. Every thought of fighting for your autonomy just slide away from your head like this strings from your body. Leaving you in a hands of your loving boyfriend.

"♪ Good little cookie ♪ Now~ kiss me back. Kiss me back!"

____________________

I wrote it surprisingly smoothly ಠ_ಠ

#crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x you #cookie run #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie x you #yandere #yandere shadow milk cookie

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

Note

Trans fem buggy anon back at it again with the brainrot

Crocodile going Full Mafia Boss Husband is so near and dear to me, but like. That makes Buggy the Mafia Boss Wife.

And I dunno smth about the clichés about that is so wild to me bc I feel like she'd fit that bill so well and yet so very NOT at the same time.

There is One Woman Crocodile Listens To, and it's his wife. He sometimes listens to Mihawk as well, but for different reasons. Mihawk ALSO listens to Buggy for the same reasons as Croc. It's not that Buggy is conventionally powerful, it's a mix of Happy Wife, Happy Life, and Buggy somehow slotting so well into the fold and running the backdrop with both efficiency, flair, and endearing fuck ups.

Buggy absolutely endears herself to many of Croc's business associates, charming them out the ass, and they think this mouthy little clown is a bit of a ditz and doesn't Get It, so they talk more freely around her. None of them catch that little glint in her eye as she listens attentively, making notes to ferry back to Crocodile and Mihawk both. Oh? You have big plans in the future? A loan, you say? Oh well golly, yes, I've been there before, teehee, tell me more, mister~

She has more dirt on the underbelly organizations than most can fathom, all locked up nice and neat in a code written lovingly in her fluffy heart shaped neon blue and green notebook.

She plays the role of eye candy well, and she likens it to playing on stage.

Behind the scenes, she's mouthy, bold, sharp, and useful, learning the tells and systems, realigning her general management with this new information, much to her husbands' surprise. Crocodile absolutely spoils her and Mihawk both rotten, but it's a mutual affair.

Buggy just having these wildly powerful men wrapped around her finger.

((And her fans/underlingsbare just gobbling it up bc THAT'S THEIR CAPTAIN, yeah captain Buggy is a QUEEN and she is SO GOOD AT THIS WOOOOO-))

MEANWHILE

The world government: she's a clown. Wait she was Roger's? Okay. Alright. A threat. We can mitigate this. A warlord - shit. Fuck the warlord system is going down. Oh God. Okay. Uhhh. We'll just drop a bounty. Yeah. That's good - Oh. Oh my God. Holy fuck did she just recruit MIHAWK and CROCODILE?? Okay. Emperor, then. It's fine. This is fine - THEY'RE MARRIED?!?!? WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

The whole mafia concept with Cross Guild just fits so well. I mean, you've seen Crocodile already, he was literally made for that scenery. Crocodile and Mihawk may handle the money and men, but Buggy as a "trophy wife who looks dumb but actually knows what's going on all the time and keeps pulling the strings" is just amazing. Crocodile listens to two people only and he trusts them with his life. Buggy might seem like only a sexy bimbo clown but she actually could murder somebody violently on the spot and both Crocodile and Mihawk would stare at her with pride and then buy her all the things she wants. She's actually extremely strategic and intelligent and she's pretty much the one who makes all the plans since she knows the most about everybody they need to take advantage of.

And it's not even the dynamic which, I mean, it's pretty obviously a mafia dynamic but-- The whole aesthetic too? These three are just constantly giving "mafia boss x femme fatale wife x mysterious murderous husband". Crocodile sitting at his desk, Mihawk by his side and Buggy sitting on his lap? The image won't leave my head. It's just so, so good for them.

Not to mention that the Marines are all extremely frightened of this trio and Buggy's history and won't even dare to come close to them because they don't even know how the hell this relationship happened. And it's concerning and scary and they might end up dead if they approach them.

But yeah, this whole thing lives in my mind rent-free all the time and this is exactly how I imagine them. Cross Guild is just a mafia and Buggy always gets what she wants because she gets the job done and both Crocodile and Mihawk genuinely love her to death. Like literally. Don't touch her. You'll die.

#fem buggy my beloved she's a failgirl but also femme fatale to me #she keeps murdering and manipulating people and then she has breakdowns and meltdowns in the comfort of their private room #girl is so mentally ill to me okay i adore her #also crocodile and mihawk genuinely falling in love with her and protecting her with their life despite saying they hated her is... amazing #one piece #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #fem buggy #transfem buggy #cross guild

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asph6lt · 4 months

Text

two sides of a coin. (2)

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem reader.

↳ warnings: unedited, sorry if it doesn’t make sense T—T

↳ tags: hurt/comfort, the comfort part lol, fluff, soft!simon, kind of ooc!simon?, he’s a lil desperate

↳ a/n: here’s the part 2! i have mixed feelings about this :’))

↳ part one… here!

it’s relief you first see that washes over simon’s eyes; relief, and something else, you’re not quite sure. apprehension, was it? you see it in the way his eyes soften the slightest, the usual sharp upturn of the corners release and droop down into that gaze he always gives you, and only you—as if you created every beautiful thing there is to exist. in retrospect, he was right. you see the apprehension in the way his brows crease, irises darting back and forth as if he’s now realizing that he’s standing on your doorstep with ghost still in his clutches. battered, bloodied, brooding—all the things he’s promised to never let you get a glimpse of.

a dull thud sounds as everything in his hands drops to the ground, shaky steps toward you muffled by the carpet beneath his feet. on any other day, you would’ve scolded him for it, told him to leave his muddy boots by the doorway. you hated having dirt on the floors, but none of that mattered now.

you meet him halfway, slow, cautious strides that are silent compared to his dull ones. the same gaze trains on you, you don’t dare tear your eyes away from him either. even when you have to crane your neck and shivers run down your spine as you stare at the skull that looms over you, you don’t look away. not when your lover’s warm, honeyed brown eyes are filled with a desperation that claws at your soul.

“simon…” a hand snakes to his clothed cheek, you can hear the sharp breath he takes as he all but melts into your palm. you can tell he’s tired, burdened. wanting to rest and be at ease with nothing but you in his arms and mind, but something is stopping him. he’s still tied back to the battlefield, to the deaths, to the suffering. he’s tried to let go of it, to leave it behind the door like he always did, but he can’t, not this time. it’s you who has to sever that string that ties him back.

“simon…”

“come back to me, simon.”

you’re swept off your feet before you can take another breath, soft gasps falling past your lips as he wraps himself around you, pushing you back against the wall. your legs coil around his waist, arms around his neck as he tugs off his mask and shoves his face into your chest. his breaths are sharp, heaving as if it pains him to breathe, and you feel your heart clench at the sound of his small whimpers. he’s tired. he’s had enough. you bury your nose into his tousled hair, taking in his scent that you missed dearly, whispering sweet nothings with fervor. with the way his body shakes, his grip falters, you’re all but determined to bring him back to you, bring him back to his sweet girl.

“it’s okay, simon, i’m here. it’s okay, sweetheart…” you don’t know how long you stay there, held taut in his arms as you utter the same words over and over again. you don’t know how long till his chest stops heaving and his heartbeat slows, till his cheeks are dry from the stray tears that slipped out. you do know, however, that when he places you back down on your feet with utter care and pulls away from you, the softest of smiles etched on his lips, ghost is long gone and only simon remains.

your simon.

he plants a kiss on your head, you return with a gentle one on his cheek. you’re smiling now. “welcome home, simon. i missed you.”

↳ taglist: @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @girlvsghost @salsa-reads-stuff @bloodyquillink-blog @kirasenju @cyphah @keiva1000 @kaelaiscool

#call of duty #cod #drabble #ghost #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod fluff #simon riley fluff

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portaltothevoid · 4 months

Text

you're losing me part xi — copia x reader

warnings: MDNI 18+, copia heavy chapter, dom!copia, sub!reader, make up sex, rough sex, blowjob (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, p in v

word count: 5.3k

credits: @gothdaddyissues for the divider. @discountdemonwarehouse and @fishwithtitz for being my betas <3

taglist: @beelzebzb @bitchywitchygardener @calitmediondell @copias-juicebox @copiasprincipessa @da-rulah @deetz-ghuleh @fishwithtitz @ghostfangirlsweden @ivycasket @justa19 @ladyrevealedofcloak @lurancyvenom @sodoswitchimage @water-ghoulette @zombiesnips-blog

The newest members of the Ministry passed by Copia in the hall on his way to another tedious meeting. He smiled warmly at them, with only one returning his smile. You weren’t sure why, but instantly you sensed his candor. Being the newest of the Siblings of Sin, you hadn’t heard whispers about the Cardinal passing you by as much as the other girls who began to speak in hushed tones with covered mouths amongst themselves after he went on his way. Being on the outskirts of the group and spurred by curiosity, you couldn’t help but turn back to get one more look at him over your shoulder. A bashful smile and accompanying blush crept over your cheeks as you noticed he did the same, giving you a nod when your eyes briefly met.

He knew he shouldn’t hope for such things; you were new, you were quite a bit younger (at least that’s what he assumed), but he mentally said a prayer to Satan that the two of you would cross paths again. Even if it was just so he could learn the name of this girl that instantly pulled him in like a moth to a flame.

Days had passed since he had last seen you, but somehow his mind seemed to inevitably wander back to you. It was as if an invisible string had been tied to him, connecting him to you. The feeling was so foreign to him.

One of his duties as Cardinal was to welcome in new members. With the newest group being so small, he would only be assigned one. Luck was something that was rarely on his side, so when he heard a soft knock on his door and looked up to see you shyly standing there, his jaw almost dropped to the ground like a cartoon character’s.

Quickly, he cleared his throat to disguise his delighted surprise as he stood up to welcome you into his office. “Ah! You must be my shadow! Benvenuta (welcome)! Come in, come in,” he greeted as he waved you inside.

That was the moment you made your first real friend at the Ministry.

After your shadow period ended and you had been assigned a job in the Department of Archives doing translation work, you often found yourself back in Copia’s office asking his opinion on your assigned texts and discussing with him possible meanings, translations, and the like. His wealth of knowledge proved how he earned his position as the most senior Cardinal.

Even if you didn’t necessarily need his help, eventually you’d find yourself popping in for a visit whenever you had the chance. You couldn’t quite understand why everyone shied away from the quirky, awkward Cardinal. Despite having made other close friends, you’d never deny he held the title of being your best friend. There was a part of you that seemed to want more than that, but because of his trepidation, you had a difficult time sensing if he felt the same.

Which, of course, he did, but the last thing he wanted to do was ruin what he had with you by appearing too forward, or Satan forbid, out of fear you’d think him a perv or something of the sort. He had bided his time, just enjoying your friendship and nurturing the bond you had forged.

Somewhere along the road, though, he noticed you stopping by a little less. Your mind seemed to be occupied with thoughts of something else. He wouldn’t dare ask in case the answer was actually thoughts of someone else. He regretted not asking you. He regretted not telling you his feelings sooner. He put his heart in your hands without you even knowing it, so he only had himself to blame for it shattering the day you excitedly came to tell your best friend your good news. The news that you had started seeing someone.

It would have hurt less if it had been just another Sibling, but it wasn’t. He hid his heartbreak from you as your eyes sparkled when you told him things were getting serious while also expressing your concerns given this person’s reputation. Like the good friend that he was, he assured you, given everything you had told him, this was the real deal and you needn’t be worried about your new love interest moving on in the blink of an eye. You had roped him in and he knew you well enough to not even be surprised in the slightest. He even appreciated how you made sure he was okay with the person you had chosen, fearing a strain on your friendship that happened anyway as your relationship progressed.

It would have hurt less if it was anyone else, anyone at all in the entire Ministry. But of course, his luck had to run out eventually. That’s how it always worked with Copia. He only had himself to blame. It was his own fault; he hesitated and never spoke up. He knew as soon as you told him that his brother Terzo, the current Papa, had taken an interest in you that he had lost you.

But he also knew his brother in a way you couldn’t. Much like how Copia could never take a risk out of fear of rejection, his brother somehow always found a way to sabotage anything that gave him genuine happiness. That was when Copia vowed to wait for you, to wait for his brother to completely fuck up beyond the point of no return. And when he had you, he was never going to let you go.

That, however, was a couple years ago. Now? As the sound of the slamming door echoed in his ears? Just when he finally thought he had you, once and for all, he feared you, yet again, were slipping from his grasp. He leaned his head back against his bedroom door before sliding down to sit, pulling his knees against his chest.

You weren’t sure what pulled you from your peaceful slumber, but you found your eyes opening, taking in the once familiar surroundings. Unable to help it, you turned to see Terzo sleeping soundly, taking in his relaxed expression. It almost made you forget everything that led up to this moment. But like a wave crashing on the shore, everything came flooding back.

Flashes of your earlier conversations with Copia kept drowning your thoughts. Would he take you back if you went back to his quarters? Would he forgive you?

Did you want him to?

Copia was your very first friend when you arrived at the Ministry. Regardless of whatever you managed to get yourself into or went through, the one person who always showed up for you was him, no matter what. In hindsight, you knew when you first got with Terzo, your friendship with him (and anything else that lied under the surface of that) fell to the wayside. Instead of holding it against you, instead of harboring ill will because of his own feelings, he did nothing but support you. When you needed someone the most, he bent over backwards to show up for you.

The first time you had caught Terzo and your heart shattered into a million pieces, the only thing you could do was run. You just had to get away as tears coated your cheeks and blurred your vision so much so you almost didn’t even register that you had collided with a person as you rounded the corner. It wasn’t until you felt a firm grip of leather gloves on your arms and a shake to get you to focus, did you look to see who was in front of you. The instant you recognized him, you all but collapsed into his arms. He didn’t hesitate, not for a single second, before picking you up and carrying you back to his office.

He sat back onto the small loveseat in the corner and you curled into him, gripping his cassock like a lifeline. All you could do was sob as he held you. You didn’t say anything and he didn’t ask, not until you were able to catch your breath.

The moment you told him, his eyes darkened like a deadly storm. You braced yourself for him to throw you aside and go take care of Terzo himself, but his restraint was as strong as iron. Instead, he cradled your face to his chest and whispered “He doesn’t deserve you; he never did.”

“Then what did I do to deserve this…?” you mumbled.

Automatically, Copia grabbed your shoulders, pushing you forward to look in his eyes. “Eh, scusi?” he asked incredulously. “I can’t name a single reason why you ‘deserve’ this because you do not. That testa di cazzo (dickhead) doesn’t determine your worth. Do you understand me? Being the person that lights up any room they walk into, that has the kindest heart, that is always so selfless…” He shook his head. His tone softened again, after getting more and more angry on your behalf. “No, dolcezza, someone like that, like you, never deserves to have their heart ripped out like this.”

That was the moment you realized any suspicion you had about Copia’s feelings towards you were correct. He cared about you more than you ever realized. It made your heart skip a beat and your body freeze in a panic. You couldn’t process this now. Staring at him with shock, you rapidly blinked as you tried to think of a response. “Copia, I… I–” You shook your head. “I have to go before he gets back,” you said as you moved to get up.

He stood up with you and grabbed your hand so gently. “At least let me walk you back,” he requested. He eyes a mix of desperation and devotion. “Please,” he whispered. Tightening your grip around his hand, you nodded.

The next time it happened, you ended up drinking a whole bottle of wine in his quarters. Of course you started out crying, but after sharing a joint, you found the whole situation amusing as you both sat on his couch. Bursting out into an unprompted fit of giggles, Copia asked you what was so funny. “My stupid ass is gonna go back to him tomorrow. I know I am.”

“You’re not stupid,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes I am! I should dump his ass, but… I can’t.” Your voice grew distant as you started to stare off into space.

“Hey,” he drawled, nudging you. “It’s because you didn’t listen to me.”

“Huh?”

“You…” he shifted and leaned into you, “are letting him determine your worth.”

“Am not,” you pouted.

He laughed, nodding his head. “Sì, meriti qualcuno che ti faccia sentire come una regina.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, dragging your hands over your face. “Why’d you have to go full Italian on me now? Hold on. Regina… queen. Sentire.. To feel. Uh, ‘sentire come una regina,’” you mumbled to yourself while Copia giggled watching you struggle to translate his mother tongue. “Oh, feel like a queen! Meriti… meritare… merit… deserve! I deserve someone who treats me like a queen!”

“Makes you feel like, but sì.” His laughter died as he stared at you. “I mean it though. That’s the least you deserve.” His voice dropped to a lustful whisper. Like magnets, you both gravitated towards each other. You leaned back, he leaned forward until he was propping himself up with one hand while the other caressed your cheek. “You have no idea how much I regret not telling you how I felt before he stole you from me… I think you’ve had my heart since the moment I first saw you.”

“Copia… I– we ca–” you started to say breathlessly before he cut you off.

“He doesn’t deny his pleasure. Why should you deny yours, regina mia?”

That was all it took for your hand to find its way to the nape of his neck, gripping the hair and pulling him towards you.

You sighed at the memories. There was a part of you that would never stop loving Terzo. Maybe that love would shift forms, but it would be omnipresent inside you. Yet now you were faced with a decision about your future that wasn’t solely about you; it would affect every member of this Ministry. Could Terzo rise up to the challenge? Perhaps. Was that a bet you were willing to gamble though when you knew Copia could easily step into the role tomorrow if need be?

There was a gnawing feeling in your heart that had crawled up from your gut. It was time to go. Whatever you had with Terzo, it was over. At least this time, the ending was amicable. Both of you had accepted the course your relationship had run. He understood what was at stake. Just because he was a lascivious goofball most of the time didn’t mean he never understood what it meant to be Papa, what it meant to lead and care for the flock. You knew this. He knew this.

Slowly, you slipped out of his arms. He stirred slightly, but only to tuck his arm under his pillow as he got comfortable again letting out a pleasant sigh. When the morning sun came, he would be off to Mexico. You pushed out a breath from your chest that felt dragged down by the weight of cement blocks. This was the last time you would see him like this, that you two would have a night like this. You leaned over to gently kiss his forehead. The smallest smile curled his lips upwards, but he never woke up. “Ti amerò per sempre, amato mio (I will forever love you, my beloved),” you whispered longingly.

You left a piece of yourself in that room that night.

There wasn’t a backup plan if Copia’s door was locked. If it was, you’d end up back where you were, but if that happened, it would change everything. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly reached for the door knob. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips as it slowly turned, allowing you to let yourself in.

The door quietly clicked shut behind you. You treaded silently to his room, doing the best you could to make as little noise as possible. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, you went into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth.

A reflection of you was staring back at you, but you were unsure if you even knew who that girl was. You could barely count the ways your life had changed since you set foot in this unholy place. Even if you didn’t fully recognize who was staring back at you, there was a strong, unmistakable feeling that no matter what choices you made in your life, you always would have ended up here.

Droplets of icy cold water dripped down your face. Your eyes closed and you called forth the devil you know, the devil inside you. When you opened them, for the first time, you saw yourself with eyes darker than midnight. This was your true self or at least, it was supposed to be. Simultaneously it felt both right and foreign. You reigned her in, pulling back the black flames until they receded inward. You watched as your eyes returned to normal. That was what everyone saw. Were you a monster? Were you really blessed? Currently, you felt more like the former.

After splashing more water on your face to pull you out of these thoughts, you wiped it off, and finally went back to the bedroom. Too lost in your musings, you didn’t notice a light had been turned on. You saw Copia sitting up, running a hand through his hair.

“I– I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet. I didn’t want to wake you up. Actually, I wasn’t sure if I should, but here you are, awake now. Um, I can, uh, go sleep on the couch, because–”

“We should talk,” he said softly, but loud enough for you to stop your nervous rambling.

“I’m sorry. That– that– I know that doesn’t begin to cover it or– or make anything better. But I am.” Copia opened his mouth, starting to say something, but you stopped him. “Please, I need to say this. I was wrong. I trust you with my life, Copia. I should have told you the night it happened. Hiding it was the worst thing I could have done even if I was thinking it was protecting you. I know the only outcome of that was hurting you and I’m so sorry.” You hurried over to his side of the bed, standing in front of him. “I promise you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried to do the opposite and clearly failed fucking miserably. You’ve been there with me, by my side, through everything since I came here. Even when I didn’t deserve it. And don’t even say I still did, because I didn’t. I pushed you and everyone else away and focused everything I had on him. There wasn’t any balance. I was a really shitty friend to you and you still were there for me when I needed you.”

You kept going, missing Copia trying to get your attention by murmuring “amore” twice. It wasn’t until he stood up, halting you from wearing a path on the floor by placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, amore, breathe, alright?”

“But–” you started, but was silenced by the way he pressed his finger to your lips.

“I was— I am upset. You were finally mine and it felt like you were slipping from my grasp again…” he murmured, moving his hand up to caress your cheek.

You shook your head. “No, it’s… him and I… it’s over. I… I did go and, um, see him when I left here. I didn’t… know where else to go.” You noted how his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed. “Nothing happened. We just talked about, ya know, how I almost killed him,” you let out a humorless laugh.

There was a subtle squint of his eyes. You were unable to place why exactly he was feeling as his eyes searched for something in yours. “But you came back here,” he stated.

You nodded. “Copia, through everything… Hell, ever since my first day here, you’ve… you’re the one who’s always been there for me. No matter what. Even when I was a shitty friend and didn’t deserve it, you were there. I sound like a broken record, but I see that now. I do. And I am so fucking sorry I didn’t fully realize it before.” Casted down in shame, your gaze fell to the floor and you took a step back. “I’m not expecting you to be here now; it’s the last thing I deserve. I just–”

“Did you feel it that first time we saw each other in the hall?” he interrupted. He was acutely aware of the tingling sensation in his white eye as he looked over you.

A small wistful half smile curled at your lips as you nodded. “You know… it wasn’t fate that I was assigned to you when I was welcomed in.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I might have requested you,” you shrugged as you confessed. When your eyes finally met his, you could feel the darkness start to bubble behind your eyes wanting to break through. This wasn’t something you ever experienced before. It wasn’t threatening, it wasn’t out of anger. Perhaps it was because of the lingering desire you felt for him. Or it simply was an intuitive confirmation of the choice you were making. You slightly shook your head to keep these feelings at bay before you cleared your throat. “I’ll, uh… I guess I’ll go take the couch tonight. Give you your space. I just needed you to know that I’m sorry and–”

He reached for your hand as he stepped forward closing the small distance between you. His grasp was firm, stilling your movements. “No. I don’t want space. It’s actually the exact opposite of what I want right now…”

“But aren’t you–”

“Oh, dolcezza, I’m still furious,” he whispered sweetly, which somehow added a subtle ferocity to his tone. His hand that held yours placed it on his waist to free him so he could grip yours tightly. The other hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he pulled you close to him. “And if you’ll allow me, I have a rather… pragmatic way for us to work through this. And all I ask is that you give me complete… and total control…” he requested as his hand tightly tangled itself in your hair. He pulled down so you looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock at his sudden dominance. “Can you do that? Do you trust me?” he asked, leaning down murmuring into your ear. The sensation of his mouth moving against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel him smirk at that.

You started to nod and his grip tightened even more. “Yes,” you breathed heavily through your nose. “I trust you. Do what you want with me.”

He removed his vice grip on your hip and placed his fingers on your cheek, his thumb pressed on the other side of your chin. Darkening in a way you had never seen from him before, his gaze held something primal, almost animalistic in it. He never showed this side of him before, always trying to hide it. But he knew, you of all people, would accept this part of him that he kept locked away. “Va bene (okay),” he said simply before he took his hand away from your face only to bring it back with a hard slap. You felt the sting before you fully processed what happened.

You held his carnal gaze with one of your own as the heat pooled in your core. His lips crashed onto yours. His hand left your hair to grab the hem of your shirt, yanking it over your head, before he dropped his mouth back down to your neck to leave a trail of kisses down it, nipping at the tender flesh as he went.

Your hands scrambled to the hem of his own shirt to lift it over his head. He allowed this, but he roughly held your hips, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you once more. These kisses were devoid of much passion. You could feel his hurt and his anger behind them and it only made you more susceptible to letting him do whatever the hell he wanted with you. As he moved to bite down on your collar bone, he shoved your pants off you as much as he could still attached to you. You yelped as your nails dug into his neck and kicked off your sweats.

With a growl rumbling from his chest, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you down onto the bed. “On all fours. Face me. Now,” he commanded. You did as directed and crawled to the edge of the bed to where he was standing. The way you were looking up at him… Something inside him snapped. He practically ripped his pants off his body, freeing his already painfully hard cock inches away from your face. The second he pulled your hair into a ponytail, your mouth opened and he shoved himself inside, immediately going at a relentless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, he yanked down on your hair, guiding your eyes upwards as he leaned down to get as close to your gasping face as he could. “You are mine. Do you understand me? Mine.” Lowering your head, when his length got close to your mouth, you opened it wide again and moved so you could close it around him. And again, he started thrusting violently into you. With a groan he let go of your hair and bent over you, pressing his hands down on the small of your back. Your hands slid down onto the floor to hold yourself up as best you could. His pace never faltered.

Eventually he let up long enough for you to spit all over his cock before his ministrations began again. He slid his hands up your back, again grabbing your hair in one and steadying you by placing the other around your neck. “Ugh, fuck,” he moaned as he pounded his dick down your throat. He almost lost himself for a moment, but he pulled away from you. He grabbed your chin hard, forcing you to hold his gaze before he pulled you up so that you were kneeling in front of him.

Using the heel of his opposite hand, he shoved you onto your back, throwing your balance off. He then pulled you forward by your legs, so your core was at the edge of the bed. He shoved his middle and ring fingers in your mouth and down your throat, making you choke on them as he moved them around to coat them with your spit. When he removed them, he wasted no time before plunged them into you.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers suddenly curling up to unforgivingly hit your g-spot over and over again. Placing one knee up on the bed, he leaned over you and wrapped his over hand around your throat, never letting up his attack on your core. Moans and whimpers flew out of your mouth as your hand encircled his forearm. Heels digging into the floor, your whole lower half shook from his fingers practically pulling you off the bed. The wet sounds drove you closer and closer to the edge as you pushed your head back into the mattress, arching your back. When he suddenly increased his pace yet again, you were screaming as your release exploded all over his hand and onto the floor.

He watched your body shaking as he stroked himself with the hand covered in your juices. Too lost in your own ecstasy, you missed how he bit his lip and sucked in a ragged breath before he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled you so you were on the corner of the bed. Angling your hips up, he gave himself more access to easily slide inside of you. Again he pressed down on your lower back to support himself as he pistoned his hips to roughly thrust into you. You cried out as your knuckles turned white from how you gripped the sheets.

He slid his left hand up your back until his fingers curled under your collar bone. Suddenly he pulled you up. You held yourself up on your elbows, moaning as he hit your sweet spot with every thrust. He let his body fall forward as he braced himself on one hand, while he released the other that had a death grip on your shoulder. He lowered himself forward even more so he could wrap that arm around your throat to hold your opposite shoulder.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled in your ear as he kept up his pace.

“Y-you!” you mewled.

“What– are– you?” he grunted through his teeth, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

“I’m yours. Fuck! C-copia. I’m yours!” you screamed.

With that, he stopped for a moment to pull you up so your back was flush against his chest. One hand wrapped around the back of your neck again to hold you steady while the other one tightly gripped your chin. “Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers found their way into your mouth again as he resumed his thrusts, somehow even harder and faster than before. It didn’t take long before the coil snapped and you found yourself cumming on his cock. The way you clenched around him had Copia barreling towards his release. With a wanton cry of his own, he let go and pulled out of you as you fell forward, your hands catching your fall as he painted his spend all over your back.

Collapsing onto the bed, breathing heavily, you felt Copia leave, but were too cock-drunk to fully care. It wasn’t until you felt a cool cloth on your back did you realize he went to get something to clean you up.

“I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he asked with a mix of concern and playfulness in his voice.

You shook your head. “Fuck, no. That was…” you laughed. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“There are still some things you don’t know about me, amore.” Once he finished, he leaned down to kiss your shoulder. “You can have it all with me, you know,” he murmured. You turned to face him, but he got up to discard the washcloth in the hamper.

Taking advantage of this pause, you crawled up to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Copia turned off the light and followed suit, encouraging you to lay your head on his chest. “Do you… feel better now?” you asked, mindlessly tracing his tattoo.

“Do you?”

“It’s not about me. I care about what you’re feeling,” you sighed, a hint of frustration leaving your body along with the exhale.

“It is about you, though,” he said softly, taking your hand in his.

Hesitantly, you nodded. “I feel… closer to you… so, yeah. I think I do feel better in that way.”

“Bene. I think we needed that,” he hummed.

A brief silence fell over the both of you. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t the most comfortable. You could still sense the elephant in the room, even if it was taking its leave. Exhaustion was starting to take over and you wondered how much sleep you would be able to get before the events of tomorrow.

“Copia?”

“Hmm?”

“Should I be… Do you think tomorrow, the first ritual, will go okay?” There was a shyness in your voice, you sounded so small.

“Of course,” he chuckled. “Summoning a ghoul will be a walk in the park for you, especially already being so connected to them. You, cara mia, have nothing to worry about. I, for one, am not worried at all. Well, at least not about that.”

“What do you mean…?” you questioned, fearing what there was he of all people would be worried about regarding this.

“I’ll soon be taking over, filling in as Papa until they deem me worthy of the official title.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, shocked, as you moved, propping yourself on one arm to look down at him.

“You deserve to know what’s about to happen… During his last performance… they’re officially revoking Terzo as Papa. His time is over. Between his–”

“You don’t need to explain why, I know…” you interrupted as you laid your head back down on his chest. “I’m still worried about the ritual tomorrow. What if I–” you started, trying to change the subject.

“Just rest now, get some sleep. I have the utmost faith in you,” he encouraged, punctuating his sentiments with a kiss on your forehead.

Giving him a gentle squeeze, you nodded, using this as an opportunity to turn onto your side to face away from him. This was going to destroy Terzo. To strip him of his title, publically, doing the one thing that gave him a purpose… You couldn’t let Copia see how your brow furrowed with worry.

All along, you knew how this would play out. You knew that while you had a choice, there was really only one option.

Yes, you were Copia’s now, but deep down you knew, he would never truly be yours.

part x | part xii

#the band ghost #you’re losing me #cardinal copia #copia #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x reader #copia x female reader #ghost the band #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #copia smut

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year

Text

don't leave me here {e.m}

prompt: you're bleeding out and eddie has to save you.

character: eddie munson x plus size female reader

part of my e.m 'pretty eyes' series

Blood. There was so much blood.

Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you, "Jesus! Fucking hell! What the fuck?!" The panicked string of curses left his mouth quick and furious.

He stared down at your gasping, convulsing body in absolute horror. Eddie Munson wasn't one of these 'hero' guys. He wasn't like Steve Harrington or Nancy Wheeler or- or fucking Superman, okay? He was a runner. He ran and he hid from shit like this. He wasn't brave. He was a fraud; scared, weak. Eddie Munson thought that he was nothing at all.

Things changed when he saw you like that.

"What do I do? What the fuck do I do?!"

You weren't really focusing on what he was saying, all you could really do was stare up at him as your mouth tried to form words. His eyes connected with yours; fear meeting fear and when he saw how scared you were, lying there, bleeding out onto cold cement, he swallowed and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments.

When he opened his eyes again, the fear was gone and instead was replaced with calm.

"This is gonna hurt... and I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and pressed down on the wound that was on your side. You couldn't speak but my god, you could scream; loud and piercing. Eddie rambled apologies over the sound of you, wincing as he listened to you. No one else was here. It was just you and Eddie in the Upside Down with a whole lot of monsters. Eddie needed to stop the bleeding long enough to get you back into the normal world and get you to the hospital.

He could feel his heart beating fast and furious in his chest. It almost hurt him. He was terrified but he knew that you were even more scared than he was so he knew that he had to focus and just do it; do something. No running, not today.

The blood seeped from between his fingers, he needed something to stop the bleeding. Thinking quick, he grabbed the two handkerchiefs that he kept in his pockets, bundled them together, and pressed them hard against your side.

"You still with me?" He asked, anxiously glancing to your face.

Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were holding onto his wrist in a white knuckled grip, "E-Eds- I'm not gonna-"

"Shut up." He glowered at you, "I'm not having that conversation, it's strictly not an option. I'm going to get the bleeding to stop a bit and then I'm gonna take you back through the gate and we'll get you to the hospital. You'll be fine. You'll be fine. It'll be fine."

His hands trembled and his whole body was caked in a cold sweat as the blood continued to pour. Why wasn't it stopping? Why wasn't it slowing down?

He cursed under his breath and dropped everything to stand up. With fumbling hands, he pulled off his belt. He'd watched Nancy do this to Harrington, minus the belt but with her t-shirt, she'd tied it really tight around his wound and it helped add extra pressure. He had to try, right? He told you it would hurt and boy, did it hurt. The searing hot pain made your head spin and made your vision blur and you almost felt yourself succumbing to the sleepiness that crept into the corners of your mind, dulling things and making things fuzzy around the edges.

It was Eddie's voice, hoarse and cracking, "Please don't leave me. Don't you dare fucking leave me in this stupid town myself." Hearing that, hearing how upset and vulnerable he sounded made you open your eyes for the briefest of moments.

"I gotta get you outta here," Eddie murmured, "Back through the gate and hopefully Harrington will be on the other side close by and we can get you in a car and straight to the hospital."

You shook your head, inhaling deeply, "Y-You can't get me through the gate. I-I'm too heavy to ca-carry."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're bleeding out and you're worried about your weight?" A moment of humour in an otherwise traumatic situation.

It was stupid and you weren't thinking rationally but you never liked people lifting you, you'd always hated it since a boy in your sixth grade class called you heavy. Since then, no one had lifted you. Despite knowing that Eddie could probably hold your weight, you would rather die in the Upside Down than have him unable to lift you or call you heavy.

"Hey," Eddie said, bloody hands on your cheeks, "I can lift you. I'll get you outta here, I promise... You gotta trust me." His eyes scanned your face, "You trust me?"

You nodded slowly, "Yeah. I trust you."

"I dunno if it'll hurt or not but my trailer's just over there, it won't be long... just hold on tight." You hadn't noticed his hands under your knees and neck until he was hoisting you into the air. The pain was there but duller, lesser. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Your eyes were heavy, tired. Eddie could tell as he ran through the upside down with you in his arms that things weren't looking good. Despite the belt applying as much pressure as possible, you were still bleeding, blood seeping into his t-shirt and jean jacket, staining and soaking wherever it touched.

Eddie glanced down at you, "Open your eyes, (y/n). Open those pretty eyes!" The sound of the nickname woke you for the slightest of seconds and then you tumbled backwards into the darkness.

At the sight of your eyes rolling and body limp, Eddie cursed and used his foot to kick open the trailer door; stupid thing swung open easily.

Eddie began to screech for Harrington, for Nancy, for anyone. His friends should've been back by now. Eddie closed his eyes as he stared up through the gate to see no one staring down at him. They weren't back yet. This couldn't be it; this wasn't going to be the end. He lay you down on the mattress on the floor and grabbed a chair to stand on when all of a sudden he heard, "Jesus, what happened? Is she okay?!"

Steve and Nancy stared down horrified at the sight of you lying unconscious, "Help me get her outta here, Harrington, or she's not gonna make it."

Getting you up and out of the Upside Down was easier than Eddie had expected since he had the help of Nancy and Steve. Together, they managed to get you through the gate and Steve helped carry you to his car.

Eddie's heart hadn't stopped racing, his hands trembling and sweating as the engine roared whilst Steve drove. Nancy looked to the backseat where you lay with Eddie crouched over you, hand in yours. He kept yelling over the sound of the engine to drive faster. "We're friends with the Chief of Police hurry the fuck up Harrington!" So, Steve put his foot down.

He doesn't stop talking to you, doesn't stop muttering and murmuring to you. He doesn't know what the hell he's saying to you but he read once that talking to someone is a good way to keep them awake - he didn't know how true that was but he'd try anything.

"Open your pretty eyes for me, (y/n)."

"You hear me? You hear my voice?"

"I'm terrified... Fuck, I'm so scared."

"Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

"I love you. I fucking love you."

The hospital loomed ahead and Steve put his foot down, cutting the red light. Nancy gripped onto her seat. Steve's turns grew harsh and fast and the three of them were nearly launched when he slammed on the breaks, car coming to a squealing stop.

"Help me get her out." Eddie said to Steve.

The car lay abandoned as Steve and Eddie carried you into the hospital. Nancy ran ahead, calling for help loudly and grabbing a stretcher which sat beside reception empty. The next few moments passed in a blur. You were bundled onto the stretcher, Eddie holding your hand, and a few doctors surrounded and huddled trying to figure out what was best to do.

"We need to take her now, sir," one of the doctor's said to Eddie, "you need to let go of her hand."

Eddie wanted to protest, wanted to fight and demand to stay with you but it was Harrington's hands on his shoulders that tugged him away from you and then, the three of them were all alone in reception and you were wheeled away.

Eddie hadn't known true fear until today. Seeing you bleeding and injured and now, stuck in limbo wondering and praying that you'd be okay. It was up to the doctor's now. It was their job to save you. Eddie wasn't religious but in those few tense hours of waiting, he prayed to every god, every saint, every public figure he could think of to pray that you'd be okay and that you'd pull through. Nancy and Steve stayed the whole time, keeping him occupied with small talk and fuelled by coffee.

"Eddie, stop pacing. Come and sit down," Nancy said, patting the seat beside her, "Just try to relax-"

"I can't," he shook his head, curls flying, "I can't rest until I know that she's okay."

"Are you here for (y/n)?" A voice asked from beside them.

Eddie whirled around, nodding wildly, "Yes, is she okay? Is she- Is she...?"

"Who wrapped the belt around her waist to stop the bleeding?" The doctor asked.

Eddie frowned, "It was me." His face dropped, "Did I do something wrong? Oh my god, did I hurt her more?"

The doctor shook his head, patting Eddie's shoulder, "Really nice touch with the belt, kid, that probably saved her life," the doctor said, "she'll be okay."

Eddie wasn't a crier, he couldn't remember the last time he properly broke down and just cried... until now. It was a mixture of relief, happiness, stress and god knows what else but he just broke down. You were okay; you would be okay. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, he had thought it was the doctor offering sympathy, but was rather surprised to see Harrington, "Thank you," he said to the doctor, allowing him to leave. Once the doctor was gone, Steve patted his back, "(y/n)'s okay, you saved her, Munson. You did it."

Eddie couldn't speak. The tears kept flowing and as he sat down, Steve's hand stayed on his shoulder and Nancy's hand found Eddie's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You were going to be okay; everything was going to be okay.

#one shot #eddie munson #pretty eyes series #pretty eyes #plus size series #plus size reader #imagine #reader insert #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #prompt

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