#dammit I will never get over this woman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

festivalsofmargot · 1 year

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how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Word Count:

Garreth: ~ 1500 words

Ominis: ~ 1700 words

Sebastian: ~ 1400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst

Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red

Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura

Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco

Garreth:

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.

You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”

“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.

“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.

“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.

Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.

He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous.

It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.

“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”

You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”

You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.”

You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.

“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.

“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.

Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too.

You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up.

He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.

“What are you -”

“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.”

His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated.

“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”

“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”

“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood.

Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.

“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.

His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?

You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.

He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.

Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity.

Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.

“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.

He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous.”

He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.

Ominis:

Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him.

He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.

He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.

He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning.

Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you.

“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.

“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.

He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.

When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.

“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.

He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”

“You’re upset with me.”

You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”

His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.

He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.

“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him.

You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool.

Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.

“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Yet you are.”

“I am.”

“Tell me what I’ve done.”

“You... haven’t done anything.”

His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”

He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”

As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave.

“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”

Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.”

He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin.

Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.

He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I want you all to myself.”

He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.”

He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.

You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”

“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”

“I will, but let’s not talk right now.”

Sebastian:

“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”

He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.

You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball.

“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.

You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.

“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”

He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”

He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”

“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”

He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.

You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.

He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.

In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.

You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”

His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”

“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"

“I do.” He said with conviction.

“So, like a sibling?”

“I - Well, I -”

“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.

He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him.

“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.

You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”

Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.

The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”

Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.

The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees.

Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.

Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.

Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.

You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.

“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.

“Go to Grace.”

He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”

You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”

“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”

You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”

Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.

He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.

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joelslastofus · 1 month

Text

[SUMMARY: Joel is secretly in love with Tommy’s girlfriend and comforts her while his brother is in jail.]

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself.

Angst fluff protective Joel

Note: story inspired by @dancingtotuyo High Infidelity Series!

Eleven o’clock at night and here you were standing in front of Joel’s front door. Calling his cell with tears in your eyes hoping he would still be awake when thankfully the sound of his voice appeared on the other end.

“Hello”

“Joel? It’s me-“

“What’s wrong? Everything alright?”

“I um- I’m at your front door. I know it’s late but-“ before you could finish your sentence Joel quickly unlocked the door with a look of concern although he already knew why you were there.

“I’m sorry” you hung up your phone as you tried to explain what was going on.

“Tommy got arrested again and they’re not letting him go and-“

“Why didn’t cha call me? It’s late, I woulda gone to get you” he led you inside as you shook your head.

“I know Sarah’s asleep and he didn’t want me to tell you but I didn’t know what else to do” you sighed as you brushed your hands through your hair.

“The hell he do now?” Joel was growing tired of seeing how upset his brother was constantly making you. Every month there was something new that got him in trouble with the law yet he never seemed to learn a lesson.

“He got into a fight and used a knife and-“ you covered your face hiding your tears.

“The guys in the hospital but in critical condition and he’s just out of control-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“Alright, alright take a deep breath. Here take a seat” he grabbed a chair beside him quickly placing it next to you. Wiping your tears away you sat down as Joel sat in front of you leaning forward.

“Hey, look at me” unexpectedly Joel grabbed your hand, his deeps eyes giving you some kind of sense of peace.

“He’s gonna come out like he always does and everything’s gonna be fine, ya hear me? And the second he’s out, I’m gonna beat his ass” Joel tried to get you to laugh, a half a smile appearing on your lips.

“There she is” he whispered, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked into yours.

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself. You seemed to be the complete opposite of him, while he was the trouble making hothead, you were shy, sweet and just trying to get him on the right path.

“I’m gonna call the sitter and you just sit tight, we’ll get goin’ in a few”

“But Tommy didn’t want you to know, he’s gonna get upset with me”

“Listen sugar,” Joel still held your hand in his.

“What Tommy says don’t go when his woman is out alone late at night tryin’ to fix things for him. Don’t worry, I’ll take the heat” he winked at you before getting up and calling Sarah’s babysitter.

The ride to the station had you on edge, reality not exactly feeling like reality in that moment. Tommy knew you were twelve weeks pregnant, yet it didn’t feel like he was taking it seriously. A wave of nausea hitting you making you quickly roll down the window causing Joel to look over at you.

“You alright?”

“Yes” you took a deep breath, you were far from alright.

Once arriving you sat down at a table while Joel stood behind you when Tommy was led into the room. The first sight of Joel and you knew Tommy was pissed, you didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself.

“Tommy-“

“God dammit, I ask you not to do one fucking thing-“

“Tommy she was worried” Joel quickly defended you.

“Besides, you expected her to travel all this way at this time alone? You should know better than that, brother” Tommy looked at you, a glimpse of remorse as he noticed just how upset you were.

“Tommy, this needs to stop” you whispered.

“Look, the guy came at me first-“

“You promised me there would be no more of this” you tried not to cry as Joel silently watched.

“Well I’ll be out of here soon and things will be better-“

“You’re not going anywhere, Miller” a cop walked in through the door with a paper in his hand.

“The man you stabbed just died, you’re looking at a manslaughter charge” you gasped placing your hands on your lips.

“Oh god” you stood up feeling queasy all over again, cold sweats rushing through your body.

“It was self defense!” Tommy yelled angrily as you felt your world spinning.

“God dammit, Tommy” you unexpectedly yelled slamming your hand on the table.

“The hell was I suppose to do?! Be a sucker?!” Tommy yelled back making you almost throw yourself at him until Joel caught you with an arm around your waist pulling you back.

“You selfish prick!” You screamed.

“Oh I’m selfish?! Am I really? Or is it you?!”

Once again angrily you threw a paper at him as Joel pulled you back again. The nerve of him to say all these things knowing the chaos he has caused.

“Go wait in the car” he whispered as Tommy continued to yell angrily.

“Go” Joel repeated before you finally walked out the door crying.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Joel snapped at him once you left.

“Oh please Joel, don’t give me this crap now”

“You got this woman constantly worried about you, tryin’ to help you!” Joel was angry and his brother could see it.

“Yeah well she don’t have to” Tommy shrugged stubbornly.

“She damn well shouldn’t, you sure as hell don’t deserve it” Joel spoke low before walking out leaving Tommy to think over his actions…or at least hoping he would.

Silently getting in the car Joel reached over placing his hand on your thigh. He didn’t have the words but he knew that look, you were fed up. Joel had seen his brother push away many women but with you it was different.

There was silence for some time, you leaned your head on the window as Joel took a deep breath.

“Im sorry my brother can be such an ass sometimes” as he spoke another wave of nausea hitting you, this time worse than before.

“Joel stop the car” you covered your lips with your hand quickly opening the door the second he stopped and ran to the grass.

“Shit” Joel whispered before rushing out beside you. Leaning forward you felt Joel grab your hair out of your face as you struggled to let anything out.

“You alright?” You slowly stood up straight and nodded, wiping your lips with a paper you had.

“Been a rough night” Joel continued, figuring that’s what made you sick before you shook your head.

“Joel….” You sighed figuring you should tell him the truth.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered without looking his way. He stood still for a moment looking at you in disbelief. Joel didn’t understand why in that moment he felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

“Does he know?” He asked low. You quietly nodded.

“God dammit Tommy” Joel whispered looking away, the fact that his brother knew you were pregnant and still let himself get into more trouble pissed him off.

“So he knew this and he asked you to travel here alone this late” Joel shook his head.

“We should get back, incase Sarah wakes up wondering where you are” you walked to the passenger seat not realizing Joel was behind you as you climbed in making sure you could get in safely until you sat down and noticed him beside you.

“I’m ok, Joel. Really” you smiled before he nodded and closed the door. Tommy wasn’t a bad man, but there were many differences in the two. Tommy had his ways of being a gentleman when you least expected it but for Joel, it was an automatic thing without thinking, even more so now knowing you were pregnant. You could already feel the difference in his actions around you the second he found out that you were pregnant. You wished Tommy had been this way with you.

“How far long are you?” Joel asked with his eyes on the road.

“I’m about to be thirteen weeks” your voice cracked making Joel look over at you to find you with tears looking down at your lap.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. You ain’t alone in this, you’re family” you appreciated Joels words but the truth hurt too much to ignore.

“Tommy..Tommy didn’t want this…..that’s why I’m the selfish one like he said in there” you wiped away a tear.

“I’m selfish because I want to keep the baby”

Joel frowned looking ahead as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. If his brother was in his face right now it would be Tommy’s face that would be dealing with his tightened fist. Tommy was so lost in his ways he had no idea how lucky he was to have a woman like yourself, how lucky he was to have you as a mother to his child. Tommy took you for granted and this only pissed off Joel. You looked over and noticed him lost in thought, his jaw clenched, you wondered what he was thinking.

“Seems like he’s the selfish one, ain’t he” he uttered low as you looked straight ahead.

“I have an appointment tomorrow-“ Joel quickly looked at you.

“You got someone who could go with you?”

“It was suppose to be Tommy, but of course-“

“I’ll go with ya”

“Joel no, you don’t have to. You have your own life and-“

“Give me a time and I’ll figure it out” you sighed knowing Joel wouldn’t give up, must’ve been a Miller thing.

“It’s at ten in the morning”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up at 9:30 and we go”

You had to admit, having company for this was definitely something you needed, you were now less anxious about the whole thing.

You hadn’t properly slept in days and you could feel your eyes growing heavy, before you knew it you had drifted off to sleep as Joel continued to drive.

“How ya feelin’?” He suddenly asked before looking over and realizing you had fallen asleep. Although he was supposed to drive you home the thought of you alone this upset didn’t sit well with him.

Once arriving to his house Joel carefully carried you out of the car, your head laying against his neck as he carefully made his way in.

“Mr.Miller” the sitter stood up rushing to help him with the door as he came in.

“You go on home, I got it from here. Thank you for coming on such short notice” Joel gave her a nod before walking towards his bedroom.

Gently he lay you down on his bed, your shoes slowly taken off before he slid your legs under the blanket. For just a moment you seemed so peaceful, a soft moan coming from you as you turned your head the opposite way.

“Tommy?” You whispered half asleep.

“Tommy, come to bed” you reached out for his hand as Joel took hold of it and very carefully lay down on the edge of the bed. Moving closer to Joel you lay your hand on his chest and took a deep breath as he delicately placed his hand over yours.

“I love you, Tommy”

Joel swallowed hard, his hand gently brushing hair out of your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead…for just a moment Joel felt like you were his..

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fan fic

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etherealstar-writes · 5 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 5

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: five

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the REAL karate kid @ the imposter are you still a hundred percent sure bronze is your fav?

stairway yeah y/n do you really love this woman over all the rest of them?

this old grandma?

neev NAHH 😭 GRANDMA REALLY SEEMS TO BE HAVING TROUBLE HEARING

lotte HER FACE 😭

stairway

are you sure? her? over everyone else?

willybum LMAO this is gold

earpsy HELP HER TOP 😭

rusty metal WHAT WHERE DID YOU FIND THAT??!

stairway you shall never know i have my sources

the imposter HELP those photos of her were top teir but you guys i've already told you she's the only one i know yet i'm still learning okay and besides, i think she's a sweet old grandma

stairway dammit

rusty metal thank you y/n even tho i don't know if i'd take sweet old grandma as a compliment or not ... but just know you're my favourite

the imposter aw i appreciate that

the REAL karate kid NAHH someone kick that rust metal out of this chat she's getting too close to my liking

willybum i agree i don't like it either

rusty metal i'm just way more slay than you all are

stairway NO WAY DID SHE JUST SAY THAT 😭

neev THE WORLD IS ENDING

rusty metal chill my dudes i've got plenty more savage swag up my sleeve

willybum NAHHH 😭

lauren 1 WHAT DID I JUST WITNESS 💀

stairway @ rusty metal do us all a favour and delete the internet from all your devices

rusty metal i'm sending you all a reaction image

elton oh god we've turned her

willybum i swear if it's a minion meme i'm jumping out the window

the imposter i'm actually scared now

lotte so am i

rusty metal

stairway LMAO NOT JAMES CHARLES 😭💀

the REAL karate kid 😭😭

the imposter HI SISTERS

rusty metal sisters?

willybum I CANT-

neev WHAT DID MY EYES JUST WITNESS-

stairway @ rusty metal do you even know who that man in the picture is?

rusty metal that is a man?

elton

stairway IM DECEASED 💀 HELP

the imposter PLS 😭 ily even more now

the REAL karate kid HUH wHaT dammit rusty grandma everyone's stealing mah girl now 😔

kie WHAT DID I JUST READ 😭

part six here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #alessia russo x reader #georgia stanway x reader #niamh charles x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #lucy bronze x reader #woso #woso fanfics

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ravengards-rogue · 2 months

Text

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 smut #rogues love letters #zero.arthur #this is OUTRAGEOUS. I WAS WARMING UP???#i need to sleep its nearly 8. jesus christ.

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simpleeindulge · 5 months

Text

The Beast and the Mouse

Info: fem/reader x Kid, 1st meetings, cussing and rude language, Kid in denial, Kid gets a crush, implied sexual yearning, future mature content planned.

Context: Kid develops a crush on a girl he thinks is not his type.

Part 1.

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, and he didn't care who knew it. He stumped through the ship with his fist clutched, looking for Killer. It was rare for him to be pissed off at his best friend and first mate, but dammit, he screwed up!

Killer happened to be in the same room with his fucked-up choice of a new crew member, making Kid paused at the doorway to glared at the man's back. Killer sensed the hostility and glanced over his shoulder. The movement gave Kid a better view of the girl's eyes. Those damn beautiful, doleful eyes that made Kid go still nearly every time he saw them.

“Need something, Captain?”

Kid snapped out of his daze and glared at Killer.

“I need to speak with you in private,” Kid said through gritted teeth then walked away.

Killer tilted his head at Kid, then shrugged and followed him. It was odd that Kid wanted to talk somewhere else.

Normally, Kid would tell whoever was in the room to get out if he wanted to talk with him privately. When Killer walked into Kid’s messy quarters and closed the door, Kid rounded on him and bellowed, “What the hell, Killer! What were you thinking, letting her join the crew without asking me!”

Killer threw up his hands in defense, and he wore a surprised expression behind his mask.

“What are you talking about, Kid?! You asked her to join! Remember!”

“I did not! I-”

But then Kid remembered that he did offer her a chance to join his crew. It had been after a battle with some weaker crew. They celebrated the win at a bar on a nearby island, and she was one of the barmaids there serving drinks.

That is, she was supposed to be serving, but she saw the wounds on some of the men drinking and started treating with her meager medical kit.

Kid had some woman straddle across his lap and happened to see the girl recleaning a wound on Killer. At the time, it was amusing to see this small mouse of a girl patching up rowdy pirates as they drank. How she concentrated on the Killer’s wounds while being aware of her environment made her a paradox of perfection.

“Hey,” Kid called over to her as the woman on his lap kissed and nipped at his neck. “You got a name?”

The girl looked up at him, and Kid, for some reason, froze. There was something about how her eyes shone as she stared directly at him. Her lips were pressed together in a sweet pout, and her hair fell in soft-looking waves around her shoulders.

Kid didn't know if it was the booze, but he felt a desire to shove the busty woman off his lap and carry the girl off. Considering how small she looked, he could even tuck her into his furred cape for safekeeping and have her for later.

The woman stopped kissing Kid, looking peeved that he wasn't paying attention to her.

She then saw who he was looking at and whispered in his ear, “That’s Y/n, but we all call her ‘Mouse’ because of how quiet she is.”

Kid blinked and then laughed at the name, and the harlot laughed with him. “Mouse, huh? How would you like to join my crew?”

“Kid.” Killer said his name to bring some sense to him, but Kid plowed through.

“You’ll see the world beyond this dump ‘little mouse’! See things you never thought possible! Enjoy pleasures you never thought to desire! You would be one of us! The infamous Kid Pirates!”

His voice carried through the bar, and the rest of his crew got swept up in their drunken state and cheered their captain. The girl just sat and stared at Kid as the crew gulped their drinks.

“Think about and talk to Killer when you make up your mind, ‘little mouse.' We set sail tomorrow at noon.”

Kid forced his attention back to the woman on his lap and began biting at her shoulder, making the woman gasp and laugh with pleasure.

After that, well, he ended the night with a good fuck in one of the bedrooms upstairs and walked back to the ship with a massive hangover early the following day.

He didn't see the girl nicknamed Mouse till they were already out at sea. She was helping to scrub the floors in the mess hall when Kid tripped over her, spilling the bucket of soapy water. He was about to yell at whoever tripped him when Kid recognized her from the bar.

“YOU!”

"Oh! Captain, I'm so sorry; let me help." She said softly as she took out a clean cloth and dried his face. Her hand touched his leg as she leaned in to press the fabric to his skin.

Kid went from anger to pure lust. He wanted to grab her and roll her under him without caring who was watching. The sudden carnal desire he suddenly felt overwhelmed him, and he quickly shoved her off him and stood up over her.

She made a surprised sound and glanced up at him with a wounded look that made his knees weak.

“How long have you been here?” Kid growled at her.

“Three days.”

“Who let you on my ship?”

“Killer, but you-”

Kid had left to find his first mate as he cursed himself.

Dammit! How could she have already been here for three days without me noticing?

Which led to the present problem of what to do with her now she's on the ship.

"I tried talking to you the day we set sail, but you were still hungover.” Killer explained as Kid rage grew.

“So you just let her on the ship!”

“The girl insisted on joining the crew. I was there when you asked her, and she didn't care that you were drunk when you asked her." Killer continued to explain.

"So this is my fault?!"

Well, yeah, duh, Killer thought but knew better and instead said, "Look, she may be useful. Heat looked over her bandaging skills. She's not bad and has enough medical knowledge for him to show her more."

"For what!? A nurse!" Kid roared. “We don't need another nurse!”

"She'll be a field medic." Killer clarified.

Kid's mind just stopped as he stared dumbfounded at his first mate. Her? A field medic? Her? Why not just shoot her now? It would be kinder and faster. Or if they wanted to make it slow, tie her up and drop her overbroad.

"You got to be kidding," Kid laughed as he started to pace the room.

"You want that small girl to go onto a battlefield and treat our crewmates! I might as well kill her right now! It would be the one good deed tied to my name!"

Kid then ran a hand through his red hair as he stopped pacing and shook his head. "No! No way! I want her off the ship!"

"But Kid, you-"

"I don't care what I said to her! No way am I keeping some weak pissant around to hold back our crew back!"

Killer's shoulder heaved as he sighed and said, "Okay, I'll see that she's off the ship at the next port. In the meantime, I'll have her do some odd jobs so she can earn her keep."

"Why wait?! Just put her on a rowboat and-"

"Captain."

Kid froze and snapped his gaze toward the doorway. Mouse, that is, Y/N, stood there looking at him with a firm expression on her sweet face.

It was unsettling how quiet she was as she moved. The door to Kid's cabin always creaked, yet she opened the door without a sound. She took a breath and walked into the room. Kid watched her and, for some absurd reason, felt nervous.

"Captain," she said again, "I want to stay and prove you wrong. I won't hold the crew back."

Killer watched as Kid had to visibly shake himself out of whatever sinkhole his mind had just dived into. He readies himself as Kid squares his shoulders and glares down at the girl. The girl didn't appear intimidated and even clasped her hands in front of her as her chin tilted up.

"You want to prove me wrong. Are you saying that you aren't a weak little-"

"I have experience treating the wounded, and I'm not afraid to go into a battle to help." She said quickly as her eyes softened at him.

Her voice was not raised, and her tone didn't sound desperate. It was like she was offering Kid a favor. A kind, healthful favor that made Kid's insides go all mushy.

"Please, Captain." She added gently as her lashes blinked at him. "Let me stay."

Killer glanced at Kid and was surprised to see him deflating. And if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, Kid was... blushing? Yes, yes, he was. Kid was actually blushing over this tiny, sincere girl who looked out of place on their ship.

Kid gritted his teeth and slapped his hand over his nose and cheeks to hide part of the redness spreading on his face.

“Captain?” She asked again, now looking worried.

Kid growled and turned his head away as he shouted, "Fine! You can stay! But if you screw up, I will personally end you! Now go find something useful to do before I toss you off the side!"

Y/N smiled widely and didn't appear offended by Kid's shouting or threats. "Yes, Captain! Right away! I'll start by cleaning your room!"

"Wait, what?!" Kid had barely enough time to respond when both he and Killer were shoved out of the room and had the door slam closed on their backs.

"What the-how?"

He turned and stared at the closed door and back at Kid. How was a tiny girl able to shove him and Killer out in the blink of an eye.

"She ate the scurry-scurry fruit," Killer explained with a shrug as Kid looked to him for an answer. "It's the other reason she was known as Mouse at the bar. She can move around quickly without making sound and lift five times her weight for a short time. It's also why I gave her the field medic job."

"She can't turn into a mouse, right?" Kid asked as he shivered at the thought of a human transfiguring into a rodent. "Cause that would be gross."

"And less cute," Killer commented with a slight grin behind his mask.

The way Kid snapped his head around at him was enough to prove his sudden discovery. His friend's face was even beginning to redden again. Killer held back a chuckle and cleared his throat.

"I'm going to get a drink; want to join?"

Kid grumbled and walked in the other direction away from Killer. There was no fucking way he thought that the girl was cute. Weak wasn't cute; it was annoying and a pain. She wouldn't last a week with his crew.

If she died on the job, it would be her fault, not his! What was she thinking taking his drunken offer?! Didn't she know she was too delicate for this kind of life?! Didn't she know how small, soft-looking she was? How cute-

"NO! NOT CUTE!" Kid roared as he raked his fingers into his hair and nearly ripped off his goggles.

Nearby onlookers wisely glanced away and didn't bother their Captain. Kid growled and turned to stomp back to his room to throw the girl out.

When he got there, she was already gone, leaving behind a tidy room. Kid glanced around, huffed, and muttered, "I guess she can stay."

He then flopped onto his clean bed face first and sighed. He'll worry about his 'Mouse' problem later. All this raging was making him tired.

As he closed his eyes, he could smell the scent she had left behind while making his bed. Thoughts of her being in his bed, being under him, squirming and wriggling as she whimpered and moaned, seeped into his mind. Kid groaned and growled as he punched his fist into the blankets.

She was going to be a pain, and not just in the ass; Kid mused as his groin throbbed.

A big pain for such a little creature.

Part 2.

#eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #op eustass kid #eustass kidd #eustasscaptainkid #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #op fanfic #one piece #op killer #kid x reader #captain kid x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #op x reader

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swallowtailcherry · 10 months

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Know Your Place {Apollo x Goddess!Reader} Smut

Summary: You eventually get tired of Apollo being himself so you decides to put him in his place.

Warning/s: 18+, femdom at the end (that part is a bit shorter😭)

I originally wrote this using an oc, but I changed it to a reader insert 😂

You watched as Apollo, god of music, poetry and many other things relaxed in a hot spring with multiple women playing and giggling.

You had a neutral relationship with the god. You never really liked him because of how egotistical and arrogant he can be. But you couldn't hate him fully. Not to mention, he'd often bother you (hit on you, as others put it) constantly because of your ethereal beauty, which pisses you off sometimes.

"Ladies, ladies! One at a time." Apollo said, laughing when a bunch of nymphs surrounded him. You frowned when some started gushing over him. You were near the hot springs, surprised he didn't notice you yet.

You were told to get Apollo because Artemis wanted him for something. You originally wanted to approach him while he was alone, but seeing the nymphs, you thought it was better to do it while they were there.

"I guess those nymphs are useful for something...." You thought, hopping on the rim of the hot springs.

"Hello, Apollo." You greeted the god. Apollo opened one eye and smirked, turning to face you.

"What brings you here, sweetheart? You never come here." Apollo asked playfully. You rolled your eyes and folded your arms.

"Your sister requires your presence. She sounded pretty peeved, so I suggest you go to her as soon as possible." You answered. Apollo sighed, getting up from the waters of the hot spring.

"Alright.... Ladies, you can go now." Apollo spoke to the nymphs, who immediately left while squealing.

"I can never get used to them squealing like that." You said, hopping off and walking away. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Did you lie so you can be alone with me?~" Apollo purred in your ear, resting his hands on your shoulders. You scoffed and brushed his hands off.

"No, I didn't. Your sister really needs you." You replied, trying to stay away from him, but he followed you.

"Aw, come on, (N/n)! Just let me have this!" Apollo exclaimed dramatically, leaning against your back.

"Why me? You have a lot of women chasing after you!" You asked with irritation.

"Why not? You're ridiculously beautiful." Apollo wrapped his arms around your waist, rubbing your hips. He rest his head on your left shoulder.

"Your body.... It's so... Beautiful~" Apollo whispered, his hands moving up and down your waist.

"You know... I've never seen any woman with an amazing body like yours~" Apollo purred again, his hands groping your breasts. You slipped from his touch and gave him an pissed off look.

"You're such a bastard. One day, someone will take you down a notch." You said, walking away and leaving Apollo standing in place. The god smirked and walked away to cover up and meet his sister, who scolded him for not arriving sooner once he did.

You, on the other hand....

"Holy shit, that felt fucking amazing!" You thought, leaning against a wall and rubbing your fingers against your clothed core. The more you rubbed, the more you thought about Apollo. The more you thought about him fucking you.

You felt yourself self heat up so you moved your clothes to properly finger yourself. The moment your fingers entered your pussy, you let out some quiet moans. You started to go faster, throwing your head back as you felt your own fingers thrust in and out. You let out one loud moan when you felt your juices leak out. You pulled your fingers out, looking down at the mess you made.

"Fucking dammit...." You muttered under your breath, cleaning yourself up and standing up, fixing your clothes up. You also fixed your hair and made your way to your home.

Once again, you were alone with Apollo, but this time, you wasted no time in getting in the hot springs. You took off all your clothes and steps in, hoping for some peace and quiet. You just wanted to enjoy the waters.

"Oh? Unusual to see you naked, (N/n)." You jumped up in surprise, seeing Apollo right next to you with his usual smirk.

"I can't just jump in with my clothes on. I'll ruin them." You said, trying to avoid his wandering gaze.

"Fair point. But still, never saw you naked before, and I'm not complaining at all." Apollo leaned against you, brushing his hand against your thigh. You jolted up, moving away from the god.

"What the hell?!" You exclaimed, using you r arm to cover your breasts, which were large and voluptuous. Apollo saw that and moved closer, moving your arm down and saw your erect nipples. He moved his hand to your breast, massaging it and pinching your nipple. You let out a shocked gasp.

"Such soft breasts...." Apollo mumbled, positioning himself behind yoo and took both of your breasts in his hands. You hissed out, trying to move away from the god, but you felt too weak in his hold.

"Let's go somewhere else." Apollo whispered, standing up and picked you up, walking to a more secluded area and positioned you back against the wall. You didn't know where to put your hands, so you put them on his shoulders.

"Here, let me move your legs." Apollo said, lifting you by the thighs and pinned you against the wall. His erect cock throbbed against your leaking pussy, sending shivers down your spine. The god notices and pressed his fingers against your labia.

"We haven't even started and you're already soaking wet. What a whore~" Apollo cooed playfully, inserting two of his fingers inside your wet cunt. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his fingers inside your. Unlike your own fingers, His were more bigger and rougher, which gave you more pleasure.

"Ah- oh~" You moaned out, watching as his fingers went in and out. You felt yourself cum within a minute of him fingering you, coating his fingers with your juices. Apollo looked slightly surprised by how fast you came, but he smiles mischievously, bringing his fingers to his lips and licked them.

"You didn't last a minute with just my fingers. So desperate of you~" Apollo said seductively, licking up all your juices. He pressed his erect member on your wet pussy.

"I wonder.... How fast will you cum when I do this?" As he finished his question, he thrusted his cock inside you, letting out a shuddering moan at the tightness of your cunt.

"Fuck!.... You're so tight..." Apollo hissed out, moving his hips slowly, his length hitting your g-spot every time. You rolled your eyes back, letting out countless moans. You even let out some yelps when your g-spot was hit.

"So voluminous~" Apollo moaned out, speeding up.

"You're going so fast...!" You gasped out, your eyes fluttering when he pulled her closer, giving her a hard kiss. You moaned into the kiss, your mind slowly being filled with nothing but clouds and the intense pleasure the god was giving you at this moment.

Apollo moved his hips at inhuman speeds, his hands now holding her wrists up above your head. You knew you was getting close from how you were seemingly sucking his cock in.

"Shit! I'm getting close-" you hissed out, wrapping your legs around his waist, which brought his cock further inside you.

"I am, too...." Apollo huffed out, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your own. Feeling his cock twitch continuously against her fleshy walls, you felt the urge to cum.

"Milk my cock. I know you want to~" Apollo purred in your ear. You were too caught up in the pleasure you couldn't reply to anything he said. After Apollo rubbed your clit roughly, you released all over his cock. A few seconds later, Apollo's seed shot out inside you. Both of them panted heavily, looking into each other's eyes.

"Good girl." Apollo said, tracing his fingers across your lips.

"I'll... I'll... I'll..." You slurred out.

"You'll what? Please, finish that." Apollo teased with a smirk.

"I'll get back at you..." You finished. A chuckle rumbled in Apollo's chest and he leaned in, giving your a soft kiss.

"I'd like to see you try~"

"Mmmph!~"

You grinned as more moans came out of Apollo's lips, only muffled by a white cloth you used to tie around his head.

"Let's get you nice and ready~" you said, kneeling down right in front of his throbbing cock. You put your hands on his thighs, poking your tongue out and gave it some long licks. The woman felt his body twitch from the licks. You stopped, making the twitching god look at you.

You pressed your lips against the tip, feeling some pre cum leak out.

"You're really that close? We haven't even gone to the best part~" you laughed. The woman opens your mouth and puts his cock inside, slowly moving your head up and down. Apollo wanted to push your head further, but couldn't due to the cloth tied around his wrists. You increased the speed, gripping Apollo's thighs. Just as he thrusted his hips up, his seed shot out into your mouth. You moved your head up, your mouth hanging open as his seed leaked out from the corners of your lips.

"Suppose I can't blame you. You've came about four times now~" You purred, tracing your finger around his tip. Apollo's gold eyes were half shut and his chest was rising up and down slowly. You noticed how there was some tears in his eyes. You got up from between his legs and crawled beside him, smiling as his eyes moved to meet yours. As soon as you took off the cloth tied around his mouth, he took a deep breath.

"Fuck..." Apollo gasped out, poking his tongue out. You wiped your lips and leaned forward, giving him a kiss that lasted for a full minute.

"You seem to be enjoying this~" You said, rubbing your fingers against his chest. Apollo slowly nodded his head, the tears slowly sliding down the sides of his face. You got on top of him, adjusting yourself right above his cock. You only stopped when you felt the tip brush against your wet clit. A quiet whimper escaped Apollo's lips.

".... Yourself on me...." Apollo mumbled.

"What's that? Speak a bit louder~" You said.

"Lower yourself on me!" Apollo hissed out in frustration, trying to thrust his hips up. Your moved your hips up, giving him a teasing smirk.

"Uh uh uh. You must ask nicely~" You said, waving your finger. Apollo huffed and took a deep breath.

"Please ride me...." He mumbled, looking away. Satisfied with his words, you lowered yourself on his cock, feeling it enter your pussy. You slowly breathed in and out, bouncing up and down on his cock.

"Yes.... Just like that...." Apollo gasped out, wiggling his wrists, struggling to break free. You leaned forward, using your hands to support yourself on Apollo's chest.

"I missed your cock inside me..." You gasped out, laying on top of Apollo and leaving kisses on his bare chest. Apollo moved his head up, some deep moans escaping his lips.

"Your pussy... Feels so good~" Apollo slurred out, hissing through his clenched teeth as he feels your walls suck his cock in. He let out a loud moan when your walls clenched around his cock harder than before, your juices leaking out and coating his cock. You continued to bounce on his cock, letting out a gasp when you feel his member twitch inside and his hot seed painted your walls, filling you up. You breathed slowly, collapsing on top of the god with a tired but satisfied look on your face.

"Told you I'd get back at you~"

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok smut #apollo x reader #wow i did a ff after for so long #i need to start this again

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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months

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Yandere Kengan Head Canon: Look At Me

Tsundere to yandere Raian Kure x Afab Reader x one sided Lihito

TW: unhealthy behavior, cursing, degradation, breeding kink (Kure family), baby trapping (mentioned), Dacryphilia, etc.

@bobawitch13

From the moment the two of you met, Raian hated you. He hated your smiling face and your soft words as you tended to his wounds. You were just a stupid nurse at the infirmary who was insistent on tending to his injuries despite how much he complained.

You were an annoying fly he wasn’t allowed to squash. A ray of sunshine that blinded him every time you’d sit beside him to tend to his injuries he sustained from his fight with Ohma Tokita. Raian was embarrassed to be taken care of like this… like he was a weak baby. He didn’t like the way his heart would skip a beat when you were around. Perhaps this was a new level of extreme dislike for him (certainly not a crush).

“I’ve told you to buzz off already.” Raian hissed as he shoved your hands away from changing his dressings. “I don’t need your fucking help.” But you pushed his hands aside to change the blood soaked bandages around his abdomen.

“Mister Kure, you don’t want your wounds to get infected, do you?” You asked him with a soft smile. He despised how demure you were. How kind you were, it made his stomach hurt. “I’m simply doing my job.”

“Do you enjoy this power you have over me? It won’t last long. Once I’m healed, I’ll destroy you-“ you cut him off with a frown, your gaze focused on the barely eaten meal on his table.

“Do you not like the food? I could sneak you some sandwiches if you’d like.”

“I don’t want a fucking sandwich. I want you to discharge me.” Raian rolled his eyes when you giggled at him. Why did his face feel so hot? Did you administer poison on him when he wasn’t paying attention- no. You were too stupid to do that. Too sweet.

“I’ll see what I can do for my grumpiest patient.”

“I am not grumpy, woman. I just don’t like you.”

Raian scoffed but allowed you to change them. As much as he hated you, you were right. He didn’t want an infection. He wanted to heal as fast as possible so he could get away from you. Or so he thought…

You started to bring him sandwiches since he barely touched his food. Yet he would still push the homemade sandwiches off to the side and eat them when you weren’t around. Raian didn’t want you to know he enjoyed them. That he didn’t mind your company all that much as the weeks went by.

At least until he realized you weren’t just sweet to him but to every patient you had. Especially to that Lihito guy. He was a fucking loser, why were you laughing at his stupid ass jokes? Why did you dote on that insignificant worm? Lihito was pathetic and he didn’t deserve your attention. Not like Raian did. He was strong and capable. He’d be able to provide for you… he’d be able to provide for children. Raian would- where the hell did these thoughts come from? Why was Raian thinking of continuing the Kure bloodline with you? You didn’t offer him anything to benefit him other than your softness… god dammit. Raian had a crush on you didn’t he? That’s why he enjoyed your company and wouldn’t hurt you. Raian liked how you treated him like a human being despite how many times he threatened you.

Raian began to call you into his room more often, just for stupid menial tasks. He wanted you to be with him more than Lihito. He didn’t like the way the other blonde looked at you. Lihito admired you like a lovesick puppy and Raian would be damned if you dated a loser like that. Raian beat the snot out of the guy, just for a warm up.

Yet you never looked at him like he was a monster. You patiently waited for him to ask whatever he wanted of you and you dutifully did you best to fulfill Raian’s wishes. You’d fluff his pillow for him or get him an extra blanket. You never complained no matter how mean he was… it made Raian want to push his limits with you. How far could he go until you got upset with him?

“Do you enjoy the attention you get from all the men around here?” Raian asked you when you arrived to his room with his usual sandwich. His silver irises scanned you up and down. His hands tightly clutched his water jug. “You seem to be fond of that loser.”

“Lihito isn’t a loser.” You sighed before you approached Raian to hand him the sandwich. “A little stupid, but he’s not a loser. I think he has a lot of heart.”

You jumped when Raian crushed the jug in his hand like it was a grape. The white haired man was now drenched in water and ice, but it did little to soothe the pissed off look on his face. Why was he so upset? It’s not like he was fond of you or anything… right? There was no way the Raian Kure had a crush on you. He was as mean as a hornet. With his permanent scowl, his horrible manners, and his sadistic tendencies.

“Mister Kure, I’ll go get you a new gown and some blankets-“ Raian suddenly snatched your wrist and pulled you to him so that your body now laid on top of his.

“I don’t like you hanging around other men.” Raian clicked his tongue at your confused expression. Of course you’d be confused, he was too. “I enjoy your company.”

“But it’s my job-“ Raian suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a demanding kiss. Your eyes widened in shock as he took advantage of your state of surprise. Yes… this was what he needed. To put you in your place. To make you understand just who you belonged to.

“Open your mouth.” You obeyed, the white haired man immediately spitting a wad of spit in your mouth. “Swallow.”

You obeyed in fear of him hurting you which made his eyes light up. Yes… this is what he wanted. Complete control over you. To see your sunny expression turn to one of fear.

Raian was quick to begin to undo his hospital gown. His hands guided your hands to run up and down his chiseled chest. He relished in the salty tears that fell down your cheeks. Baby you were making him so fucking hard.

“I’m going to put my fucking child in you. Aren’t you grateful a Kure has taken interest in you?” Raian’s tongue darted out to lap up your tears. “Trust me, you’re in such good hands.”

You tried to pull away when you saw Lihto but Raian roughly grabbed your cheeks. His palms squished your cheeks together as he jerked your gaze to be back on him.

“Look at me, (your name).” Raian hissed, his dark eyes permanently burned into your very soul. “Look. At. Me.”

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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I'm re-listening to TMA and I CANNOT get over the 180 Jon does in "Page Turner." We're four episodes in and the last three have been spent building up Jon as the cliched skeptic who takes a Rational™ approach to his supernatural job, thank you very much. Oh, you encountered a meat puppet trying to lure you into an alleyway? Sure you did, Mr. Drunk As a Skunk. My hometown is housing moaning coffins that dislike being used as coffee tables? Uh huh, says the self-identified drug addict. Oh, the woman who saw the Not!Them didn't have injuries severe enough to induce hallucinations? Alright, fine, but I'm sure there's some explanation for all this. I am Jonathan Stuffy Sims and I will NOT be cowed by a bunch of unverifiable superstitions.

So by now the listener is pretty used to this format. Creepy statement, skeptical Jon, just enough ambiguity to set up the eventual reveal that all this is true. We know how these stories go. Jon will get blindsided by the revelation in like... a season? Maybe two? Poor guy is gonna be so shocked, being a skeptic and all smh 😔

BUT THEN MAG4 slams in with the post-statement to end all post-statements. Jon comes out swinging and just fucking decks the listener with "If I never hear the name Jurgen Leitner again it will be too soon." Oh, you thought the ominous book collector would be news to him, something else to dismiss? SIKE. He already hates Leitner, all his homies hate Leitner, Leitner is an established Supernatural Threat and god dammit, I thought we'd already dealt with this back in 1994. What was Gertrude thinking? We need to stop the spread of evil ozone books immediately. I'm taking this up with Elias, I'm taking it to the TOP, because if we don't keep the clearly undead woman and her heat-averse son from spreading more fucked-up novels around we are all DOOMED. What's that? There was Sanskrit written on her flayed corpse? Oh, of course there was because organizing this archive wasn't ENOUGH of a challenge!!

And then in future statements Jon goes right back to, "The supernatural? I do not see it 😌"

All of which is WAY more fucked up and compelling than the traditional skeptic. Jon is a mess. Truly the most character of all time.

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #Page Turner

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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look Hal, as much as I fucking DESPISE soap’s death.. i am in need of a fic where price delivers his wife his tags. pls, i need to be hurt again by you 🥲🥲🥲 (ik reqs are closed honestly im just hoping to put an idea in your head fjfhsjfh sorry)

A short drabble to make your pain worse, dear anon:

You stare blankly at the finely dressed man on the doorstep, a black leather box in his hands.

It isn’t a stare that can be defined on any level of emotion—nothing shown on a face in a time such as this can be. Some instances transcend any known sense and logic; all perceived ability to understand leaks out of a brain like water in a blown dam.

There wasn’t an explanation for this.

John looked on, and he started to speak as if you’d never known each other. As if your Johnny hadn't had him and the rest over for your engagement party—as if he hadn’t watched you pour him tea and smile softly in thanks as Johnny’s arm snaked around your shoulders.

“On behalf of the 23rd Regiment of the Special Air Service,” you don’t even blink. “I, Captain John Price of the 22nd, offer my—”

“Stop.” Your voice is shaky, and your hands are clammy on the door knob. The man can’t look at you. He clears his throat, blue eyes blinking at you; so similar to Johnny’s and yet never the same at all.

“...My deepest condolences—”

“John!” Your voice moves in a sharp yell, taking a single step forward. “Stop it!”

A heavy silence falls like a hammer.

Your lips open and close, stuttering. Where were the words? What could you say? The tightness of your chest crashes down on you; a cinder block of ruthless realization.

Your husband was never coming home.

Hand snapping up to your mouth, you stifle a loud sob that rips through your lungs, shoulders hunching in.

“Where is he?” You gasp, tears flying down your face. “John, dammit, where is he?!”

For once in your life, of all the times you’d spoken to him, the Captain had no answer. Blue eyes stay stuck on you, box outstretched on hands that you see quiver for a moment—a clench of his bearded jaw and a movement of his head to the side.

Like some cruel joke, you laugh through the bouts of sobs, unbelieving.

“John,” you plead, barely able to see or get the words out. “Please tell me where he is. He has to come back home to me. John,” you move forward, grasping his shoulder, digging your nails in as if to wrench soil out of a burial plot. It’s frantic how you speak—all gasps and desperate whines to a God who isn’t listening to you. “I need him. H-he promised me he would come back. I-I…” You struggle to breathe.

“Love,” John grits out, forcing his tongue to move. His eyes are pained, but never, never as much as yours are. It’s said on a low and defeated breath. “I couldn’t save him.”

You collapse as his arm, which snaps to circle you and tries to keep you up as you wail in agony. Tears stain John’s uniform and the neighbors come outside at the ruckus of a woman who just had her heart ripped out with a rusted knife.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, throat tight. “It’s all my fault, I’m sorry.”

But you can’t answer, because the only thing you have left of Johnny are pieces of blood-splattered metal and memories.

And one day, you’d forget the sound of his voice—the way he touched you; how it felt to be kissed and held and loved so fiercely as if on fire. A blaze of devotion, yourself covered in gasoline; eager to be burned by a man you’d skin yourself for only three more minutes with, if that was all that could be spared.

You plead for it in John’s arms—scream for it. Three more minutes. Three more seconds.

If not that, then just three last kisses.

Johnny was dead, and everyone, especially the man trying to keep you from hitting the ground; taking the hits you lay on his arm numbly, knew that you had died with him.

The tags of a man long past glint in the setting sun.

#cod mwiii spoilers #mwiii spoilers #halcyone answers #cod x reader #cod #cod x you #x female reader #call of duty x you #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #cod x female reader #tw death #tw blood

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cozage · 1 year

Text

Taking a hit for them in battle

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji cw: blood, war, angst

You didn’t have foresight, not even close. But when the hair on your neck stood up, you glanced around the battlefield for him, and you saw it. A marine had managed to sneak up on him, and the blade would undoubtably connect. You could tell that, with luck, it would be fatal. And so your body moved before you even had time to think, and as you felt the blade connect with your skin instead of his, a cry of pain and relief escaped from your mouth.

Luffy

“GET OUT OF MY WAYYYYYY!” He whipped his arm around, taking down 20 marines in one swoop. “Second GEA-"

A cry from behind him made his blood run cold. He turned around slowly to see you on your knees, clutching your bloodied arm. “Y/N…why did you…”

Then, as he saw the marine raise his sword again, this time aimed for you, all of the dots connected and his horror turned to rage. You had protected him from his own careless mistake. He screamed out in anger, sending fist after fist into the marine’s body. He didnt stop until the Marine was a bloodied mess crumpled on the ground.

The battle raged on around you, but he sank down to his knees to meet your eyes. He could only focus on you now. He needed to make sure you were okay first. “Y/N…” Concern was riddled all over his face.

“It’s fine, Lu. It’s better than you being killed.”

His fingers hovered over the wound, his eyes starting to water. “I can see bone.”

“Luffy. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is okay. We’ll get Chopper to fix it later, okay?”

Luffy rubs furiously at his eyes and nods. "Just stay put for a sec, I can handle these guys." He says, standing to his feet. Dozens of marines were already closing in on you.

He takes his straw hat off and gingerly places it on your head. “Hey Y/N?” He flashes his billion berry bounty smile. “Thanks for saving me! Don't do that again though, okay?”

Zoro

“Fuck!” How had he missed an attack so obvious? It was a dirty trick, one he should've anticipated. He had even noticed the attack before it struck, but had no way to deflect it. It would’ve been the first slice that had hit his back, but the blow never came. Instead, as he turned around, he saw you, crumpled to the ground, red staining the soil around you.

“Dammit woman! What were you THINKING!” He readjusts his swords and cuts down the wall of marines that had crept up on him.

“Scars on the back are…” you struggle to speak in a normal tone through the pain. “They’re a swordman’s shame, right?” You smirk up at him, which causes him to clench his jaw in frustration. Marines were now surrounding you two on all sides.

“Just stay down for a second, okay?” You nod and lay back, scanning the clouds for any funny animals or shapes. You should care about the battle, you should try to get up and fight. But you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than look at the sky. Zoro can handle the marines, you've never doubted his skill in fighting before. He'll keep you safe from here on out, you're certain.

Zoro's face reappears above you after a few seconds. “Still with me?” His voice is strained, his face scrunched with concern. His eyes dart between your eyes and your wound, unsure which to focus on. You grin back at him in response, too tired to respond with words.

“Just stay with me okay?” He pulls his shirt off and begins tying it around your wounded arm. “God, there’s so much…just stay with me.”

He picks you up as gently as he can and starts running. You can hear him screaming for a medic, and even though this is a battlefield, you can’t help but feel safe and secure now that you are back in his arms. You lean into him, trying to get comfortable.

“Are you cuddling into me as you’re bleeding out?!?”

“You’re warm.” Your simple answer makes him feel a little more at ease. At least you were speaking now, and responding normally.

“You’re insufferable!” He retorts, which makes you laugh softly.

Sanji

He struggled to keep his footing while his eyesight slowly came back into focus. A surprise attack had left his vision blurry an his ears ringing. As he looked around the blurry battlefield, one thing came into focus. You. Right below him. Lying on the ground. Clutching at your side, which is slowly becoming crimson-colored. “Y/N-swan…”

Sanji lets out a guttural roar as he unleashes a fury of kicks against the Marines closest to you “STAY BACK!” He warns. “NOBODY TOUCHES HER!”

He positions himself over top of you, so nobody can ambush him again. He was supposed to be the one taking hits for you, not the other way around. Shame and rage fill his soul. Any time a marine comes close, he kicks them down in an instant. Getting revenge and keeping you from further harm was his only mission now.

Seeing a break in the waves of marines rushing towards you, he scoops you up and begins to skywalk away from danger. There’s always time for vengeance, but he isn’t sure how critical your injury is.

“I’ve never seen a battle from this view,” you murmur, trying to act as casual as possible.

“My dear! You’re still awake! You’re still-" he can’t bring himself to finish the rest of the sentence.

It hurts to laugh, but you can’t help it. “Did you think I would die that easily?”

He showers you in kisses as he takes you to safety. “Please, my dear, never do that again. I would rather die than see you ever get harmed even the slightest bit.”

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princessoflalaland · 22 days

Text

Doting ࿔˚⋅

synopsis: sukuna softens up once he knows he’s a father-to-be.

࿔˚⋅content: Sukuna x pregnant!reader, fluff, some suggestive themes but hardly any

࿔˚⋅word count: 525

࿔˚⋅a/n: my baby fever has been going haywire as of late. I don’t want kids of my own right now, but I sure would love to have any of the jjk men’s kids. not really proofread

the size difference between you and lord ryomen sukuna is quite comical. you were half, to some a quarter, of his size. A petite thing beside a mountain. how he ever manages to fit inside of you and stay there long enough to impregnate you will never not baffle those around you two.

but sukuna can’t care less about the opinion of the local lackeys. all of his energy is put into doting over his pregnant spouse. once you agreed to marry him he’d become your other half. when he found out you were pregnant, he became inseparable from you.

if you rise from the bed you two shared, he’ll mumble his disapproval while trying to keep you secured to his side. “where y’goin? come back to bed, woman…” you try to tug yourself out his grip. “need some water, sukuna,’ you rasp through sleepiness.

He climbs out of bed and lays you back down with tender assertiveness. “don’t make me repeat myself. i’ll get you the water, just stay in bed.”

you can’t walk two steps without sukuna rushing to your side and cupping your swollen stomach in his beefy hands.

“dammit, woman, don’t exert yourself. I don’t want you putting stress on yourself or my heir.” he reprimands with a worried glare in his crimson eyes. you sigh with a slight shake of your head.

“kuna, all I did was walk across the room.” your tone is patient and almost teasing. it softens his expression.

“you shouldn’t have to do anything while you’re like this. here...” “i mean, it’s nothing I can’t hand- woah!” in one swift move, he’s carrying your pregnant figure in his arms, bridal style. he looks at you in that hard, loving way of that he does “you said your feet have been hurting lately, right? Well, you needn’t worry about walking any more.”

in the even that you decide to keep still and rest, you both lounge on the bed. he is be eye-level with your belly, his hand caressing it. he is almost awestruck by how someone as small as you withstood his primal lovemaking and allowed him to impregnate you. A wistful smile slowly forms on his visage as he says, “you’re coming along beautifully, my love. i’m eager to meet our heir and see who he’ll take after.” he presses a kiss to the place where your unborn baby resides before looking up at you.

your hand rakes through his pink locks as you hum a medley. You tune back into reality at the low rumble of your husband’s voice.

“hmm, i think you mean you can’t wait to see who they take after.” your husband meets your eyes, barely masking his bewilderment.

Them? As in, more than one? I mean, that wouldn’t be impossible, given how uncharacteristically large your belly is and especially since he pumped you full of his—

your laughter disturbs his thoughts. “i’m just kidding, though, I bet you’d like that. Twin babies…” you rub an absentminded hand over your stomach, dissolving into daydreams of your impending motherhood. He’s always adored the glimmer in your eyes when you talk about your child.

“i don’t care how many children your body is carrying. Whether it’s one, two, or three. They are mine, ours.” He holds your gaze and the look riddled in his blood-red irises makes your heart swell with affection. “And that’s all I care about.”

#paradiseofpleasure𓏲𝄢#I deem this a fic because I made it look pretty #I think Sukuna is growing on me #more than usual that is #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #jjk smut

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sister-lucifer · 3 months

Text

Talk About a Mind Fuck

Tim Wright/Masky x Ticci Toby

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE!

Genre: Gore smut

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it.

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read.

Breaking and entering.

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point.

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared.

This was supposed to be easy.

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons.

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them.

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before.

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening.

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat.

One down.

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out.

…A gunshot.

A gunshot?!

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway.

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer.

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times.

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant.

Three down.

But still one bullet unaccounted for.

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down.

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time.

Nothing.

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet?

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut.

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet…

This silence is sickening.

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again.

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!”

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant.

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor.

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head.

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side.

Clean through.

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself.

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement.

Not a sound.

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade.

Nothing.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!”

Not even a twitch.

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin.

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on.

This isn’t happening.

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone—

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound.

Was that a…cough?

He looks down at Toby’s body.

It hasn’t moved.

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood.

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened.

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still.

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet.

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye.

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow.

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell.

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway.

The first bullet.

Clean through, and out the back.

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing.

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that.

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment.

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued.

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is.

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely.

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like.

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder.

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!”

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit.

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!”

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort.

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows.

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.”

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward.

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!”

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else.

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still.

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts.

He thought he was gone.

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo.

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson.

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm.

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him.

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it’s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.”

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room.

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side.

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe.

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body.

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else.

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze:

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to.

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless.

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet.

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again.

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else.

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored.

“…How did that feel?”

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up.

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?”

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth.

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses.

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.”

Tim’s breath hitches.

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling.

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver.

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner.

“Keep talking.”

Toby’s stomach flips.

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground.

He doesn’t want this to stop.

He has to keep going.

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…”

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans.

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers.

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down.

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.”

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask.

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?”

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy.

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!”

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening.

It’s working.

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all.

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious.

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror.

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull.

He doesn’t want this to end.

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it.

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God.

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds.

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on.

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!”

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back.

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster.

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!”

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off.

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!”

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all.

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.”

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch.

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…”

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good.

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten.

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby.

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time.

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think.

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!”

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams.

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead.

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants.

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone.

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.”

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…”

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness.

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise.

Dammit, he thinks.

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this.

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