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tired-biscuit · 5 months

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18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.

wc: 1.6k

fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.

he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.

he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.

still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.

after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.

however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.

you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!

and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.

the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.

this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.

but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.

actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.

your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.

oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!

your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.

thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.

so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.

he takes another. all is well.

and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.

your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.

even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.

you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.

you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.

so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.

he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.

and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.

but foxes can be tricky.

so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.

but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.

how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?

you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.

the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.

he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.

just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.

his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.

he probably won’t see god, though.

oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.

#i had to get this outta my system cos it’s been eating me alive fjdjdjhd #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #biscuit drabbles #cw hybrids #cw dubcon #cw somnophilia #cw breeding

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Fake it 'till you make it | Prompt

When Steve Harrington came out to his parents, he expected a few things to happen. Jumping back a little, he hadn’t even meant to come out. His parents meant well, they did. He couldn’t deny that they meant well.

They knew he was lonely when they were gone, they knew he was the type of person who kind of… needed someone around. He wasn’t a lone wolf, he wasn’t someone who could just go it alone, while they were away for months, and while Robin was lovely, Robin was also a lesbian.

So Robin was out of the question.

So it fell to the women they knew. Through their connections. And unfortunately those women tended to be, for lack of a better phrase, ‘Daddies money is how I intend to live for the rest of my life’, and completely comfortable in switching out who Daddy was.

Steve… didn’t have a daddy kink, thanks.

Okay maybe he did a little but not in the call him daddy kind of way. More the other way around.

After the fifth attempt to throw some business partners daughter at him, a woman who’d actually kind of impressively deep throated a hot dog at the office barbeque while looking directly at him before he’d even gotten her name. Impressive, kind of terrifying.

An image of his life consisting of an unhappy marriage where his wife used sex as some kind of transaction rather than the big family full of love that he wanted flashed before his eyes.

He'd had enough. So when the sixth one came up, Vivian, he hadn’t even been able to wait for them to explain who she was, which business associate she was related too, it just. Came out.

Or rather he came out. Spectacularly.

“I’M GAY!” Okay less spectacular initially, more manic desperation. He expected a few things to happen after he realised what he’d blurted out.

He expected anger, he expected disappointment, he half expected disownment, not fully expected, his mother would probably be on his side. He expected violence, judgement, demands of him to tell them it wasn’t true, or demands that he hide it, keep pretending for appearances sake. He’d heard the coming out horror stories.

He did not expect—

“Oh oh! What about Jonathan!! From Tennis club, honey you remember Jonathan right? Peter’s son?” His mother turning to look at his father, who’d turned a little pale. That was it, his father would be the one to blow up, his mother was in his corner that was sort of expected but his fa—

“Lynda he is not dating someone with the same name as me, that—no. No, I don’t think I’d recover if those thin walls at the chalet struck again.” Goddammit. “What about Timothy, Dorothy’s nephew? Didn’t she say she’d caught him with some punk boy on that family holiday to London?”

“Yes but she was trying to get points around the water cooler for being hip and homophobic, did you not hear what she called the poor boy? I’m not associating with Dorothy, good heavens.”

“I hadn’t heard, why have I not heard? Lynda we’re trying to create an inclusive work environment, I can’t have homophobic people working in HR!” And John was up, newspaper down, and off to his study to deal with Dorothy muttering about how he was sure the monthly office newsletter, which included the updated company values, would have weeded the bigots out by now.

“…Did my coming out just get someone fired?” Steve finally broke his shocked silence, his mothers attention turning back to him, her eyes wide, mouth puckered in a little, silent, oh.

“……Maybe.” His shoulders slumped, expression dropping to deadpan, she moved quick to reassure him “Don’t worry about it, Steven, she really wasn’t well liked.” It didn’t make him feel better… okay maybe it did, one less homophobe in the workplace. “Oooh, what about—”

It didn’t stop the matchmaking. The potential suitor pool just got bigger. Especially when he quietly, defeatedly corrected himself, revealing it was bisexual, not just gay, accepting his fate.

So it was no longer Vivian, Jessica, Bethany, Barbara, Carol, etc.

It was Vivian, Thomas, Jessica, Peter, Bethany, Robert blah blah blah

“Okay but you know some people would kill for that kind of support right?” Robin spoke the truth while rewinding the latest batch of returns. And maybe he was whining, maybe he was being overdramatic, his parents were supportive and were trying to make sure he’d be happy while they were gone on their long business trips.

Honestly they could have probably just let him get a dog. It’d have been easier. Less expensive than any of the people they were suggesting.

“I know… it’s just… they could at least try and find out what my type is. Instead it’s like they’re trying to throw a whole Indy gay bar at me in hopes that one person just kinda sticks. And now I’ve got a whole week with them coming up in some remote chalet, what if they bring someone, Robs? What if they bring someone and try an set us up an—”

“Can your parents just… adopt me?” She wasn’t listening “I’d kill to have the dating thing simplified for me, I can’t even talk to girls, you’ve got your mother doing all the work for you. I’d appreciate them, tell them I’d appreciate them.”

The door chimed, neither of them looked up, too engrossed in what they were doing. If a customer needed their help, they’d make it known.

They’d just adjust language used to not out themselves to strangers.

“You tell them! Pretty sure they’d find you someone.” Apparently his parents would be thrilled to help. He wanted to be happy about that, he really did, it was just exhausting having to fend off people who were interested in him but only for the last name, the business connection, the money. He wanted someone who wanted him for him, and none of those ‘potential suitors’ fit that bill. “Robbie I’m serious here, what if— what if they try when I can’t escape. I can’t spend a whole week in the woods with some stranger they’ve thrown at me, I think I might actually perish.”

“Then take a date.” Both young adults turned to look at the culprit behind the door chime.

“Henderson!” Steve’s favourite of the brat pack. Having met him while ferrying the kids home when Jonathan couldn’t pick Will up from Mike’s on a night when Steve had been hanging out with his at the time girlfriend Nancy. The kid was hilarious, a little bit of a know it all, but when you actually know it all, you’ve kind of earned the right to be obnoxious about it. “What did you hear?”

“That someone’s setting you up with people? Which is that a bad thing?” He directed the second question to Robin who shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Not in my book lil man, not in my book.”

“Okay It’s not the attempt that’s the problem, it’s the quantity of attempts, and the quality of people they’re throwing at me! Quantity and quality are the issues here, people, it’s not that they’re doing it,”

“It’s that they’re doing it badly.” Dustin finished, Steve pointing at him with clicked finger guns.

“Exactly… and I don’t want my parents at my future wedding claiming they were responsible for getting us together cause that’d be weird! And pathetic. I want a fun first date story, a meet cute, or a ridiculous ‘yeah we were trapped in an elevator for like, three hours and bonded’ kind of story, I want an ‘I met them on a train’ or ‘they hit on me at the bar, and it just worked’ not an ‘my parents set us up in a remote cabin in the woods’, do you get me?”

“I can see your dilemma, but remote cabins in the woods can be really roman—"

“Nobody wants to hear about you and Suzie again! We get it, she’s your soulmate and future nerd wife you lucky little shithead.” Long distance and tricky as it may be, they were kind of perfect for each other. “Now what were you saying about taking a date?”

“Exactly that, take a date with you. Tell them you’re bringing someone and just… bring someone.” Dustin let his eyes flick to robin purposefully, quirking his head a little to subtly nod at her “you could take Robin” as if to say now’s your chance, dickhead, take it.

“Somehow I doubt Robin would be able to convince them that we were dating.”

“Cause we’re not.”

“And will not be.”

“At all.”

“Eh—"

“—ver”

“You guys make no sense.”

“We make perfect sense, my strange little child friend. You just don’t have all the information to make it make sense.” Robin wiggled her fingers at him as if it was some kind of mystery, it was to Dustin but that wasn’t important. “He does have a point though, you could take a date, there’s plenty of people in Hawkins who’d kill for a rich person get away, just gotta let them know that it’s a pretend date situation. Or… actually find a date. If you can.”

The "you suck" board flashed into his mind momentarily. He couldn’t. Not within the time frame he had. He was so far off his game his parents were matchmaking for him.

Dustin’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, offering salvation. “I know someone you could hire for that…” hallelujah, Dustin Henderson everybody.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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The Quiet Ones 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation.

While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is.

Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight.

“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.”

You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company.

He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain.

As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin.

“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.”

You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.

“You didn’t,�� you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you.

“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?”

He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away.

“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away.

You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man.

You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good.

“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you.

You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer.

“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures.

The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver.

The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing.

“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same.

“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?”

She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you.

“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.”

“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.”

Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment.

“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.

He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats.

Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table.

You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son.

“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands.

You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth.

“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?”

You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house.

“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?”

“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.”

You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies.

“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.

We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table.

“We met...”

“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--”

“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments.

You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.

Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs.

The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated.

“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.”

“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters.

“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...”

“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--”

“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips.

“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.”

“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.”

Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try?

That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.

Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.

You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before.

“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you.

“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth.

“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?”

“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.”

You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing.

“Lloyd,” Delores breathes.

“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.”

“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand.

“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.”

“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini.

“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer.

“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust.

You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much.

You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth.

Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford.

“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork.

You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?”

The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.

“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.”

“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask.

“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.”

Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate.

“Stop, please,” he begs.

You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you.

“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--”

You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees.

“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers.

“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?”

Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands.

“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.”

“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison.

“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!”

“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says.

“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan. He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."

Well, that didn’t work.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the quiet ones #series #the gray man

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vengeful-horde-of-angry-ghosts · 9 months

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I think something to keep in mind regarding Kiriona and John's relationship, especially regarding the content of Kiriona and Ianthe's argument at the tomb, is what happens when they first meet. Yes, Gideon has a parent now! He's God! He gave her a new name connecting her to their culture and a commission in the cohort and made her his heir! Maybe he really is trying (when he's not drunkenly fucking his way through the cohort).

But the first time she meets him (during the Jerry Springer portion of the book), she sees the fight with Mercymorn and Augustine where he admits to lying about the cavaliers having to die. (As a cavalier who died, I think it would be totally reasonable for her to take this one personally.)

More importantly, she's angry with him for hurting Harrow. She straight up tells him, "Go to hell, Pops."

She watches Ianthe save him and says, "She got one choice, and not only did she blow it, but she blew it in such a huge fucking spectacular way that you would’ve been impressed had you not hated her for it."

Next sentence she calls John "the guy who had lied to everyone about everything."

Not a great first impression.

So back to Kiriona. She seems loyal enough. She plays the part. But she goes awol to get to New Rho first chance she gets (I don't believe for a second that John actually sent her there, especially considering there was no way to know they'd end up on the ninth. It has to be about Harrow, which Ianthe even asks.). She seems to me to be angry and defensive when she talks about what John has done to her body, her eyes "hard and dead and bright, like something that had been dug up" when previously they had been compared to Nona's eyes.

I feel like her loyalty to John isn't as secure as most people seem to think it is. If Harrow was disappointed by him as God while he still had his shit together, how disappointed must Gideon be to finally have a parent and it's John in his breakdown stage? Even Ianthe is disappointed by him.

I'm reminded of this exchange with Harrow in GtN:

“I need you to trust me.”

“I need you to be trustworthy.”

Given everything she's seen him do, I cannot imagine her finding John trustworthy. I can't imagine that a few months of playing happy families has changed that.

#only she's allowed to beat up Harrow #only she's allowed to save Harrow #i maintain that while she does have some familial feelings for John #her loyalty to Harrow supercedes everything #tlt #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #kiriona gaia #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #gideon my beloved #kiriona my beloved #angry ghost thoughts

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

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Love Alone

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Idk why but I really need some heartbreaking angst for Warren or Eddie rn where it's unrequited love.

✧.* summary — Warren Rojas is the love of your life, and you knew it from the first time you met. But he didn't, he wasn't that sure.

✧.* warnings — A lot angst, I mean it...

✧.* word count — 4.0k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* part two — Love Me Again

✧.* mandy's notes — You asked me for angst and I brought you everything I had hahahahaha. I got carried away on this one and it's a little big... I hope you don't mind.

Warren Rojas is the love of your life, and you knew it the first moment you saw each other, it was like something pulled you to him and ever since you saw those brown eyes you never got rid of them, not even If you tried.

You met the drummer in Pittsburgh, when you two were still teenagers, you were always close to Eddie's family and consequently became friends with Chuck, Graham and Warren over time. You weren't part of the band, after all you weren't very good when it came to music, your thing was writing and that's where you entered the Dunne brothers scene, when Billy had some writer's block or something you helped with the lyrics and, it always came out spectacular.

So along with Camila you were the audience for all the rehearsals, you didn't understand anything about the musical part of it. You were happy to deal with just the lyrics when you could. And of course, being able to spend afternoons next to your favorite drummer was always nice.

Gradually you were madly in love with him, and he didn't seem to notice anything. You didn't have the courage to go up to him and confess your feelings, so a few months went by with neither of you talking about it.

Warren knew you liked him, Eddie had mentioned it a few times but he decided not to mix things up, after all he liked how things went between the band and the last thing he wanted was a mess. But as you were growing up, the drummer noticed that you were prettier, more confident about your desires, and little by little you stopped being shy around him.

That night you were celebrating Graham's birthday, everyone was in the backyard of the Dunnes' house, singing, talking and smoking after their mother had gone to bed. Billy was holding Camila's who was in his lap, Graham and Eddie were playing one game you never understood to this day, Chuck was already gone. He was strangely distant the last few days but you guys decided not to worry too much, and Warren was watching the sky while he smoked.

He seemed to have noticed your gaze on him, because he motioned with his cigarette beckoning you to join him, so you did. He took another cigarette from the pack offering it to you, you accepted by putting it in your mouth and asking him to light it.

"You look like your mind is somewhere else War…" You say blowing the smoke to the opposite side.

"Just thinking." He says looking into your eyes, making you a little nervous. "You look gorgeous, doll."

The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were going to fly you away, you watched the curly man trying to maintain your posture but your cheeks flushed giving it away. You look down at the floor, smiling.

"Thanks." You smoke the cigarette, trying to keep calm.

"You always look really gorgeous, actually." You couldn't tell if he was high or not, Warren always had this calm way of talking.

"Well, you don't fall behind one bit." You say taking confidence, two can play this game.

That night you ended up kissing before he dropped you off at home, you could scream with so much joy you felt that night, it was like you were in the clouds. The feel of his lips still vivid in your mind made you sigh so many times that night.

After that day you were still together, you always went behind Chuck's garage in the rehearsal break to enjoy each other, you exchanged glances throughout the rehearsals, he winked at you sometimes making you embarrassed when you saw that he noticed you staring at him. You believed that was the beginning of a wonderful relationship between the two of you, but maybe you were wrong about that.

Chuck had decided to leave the band, he was going to go to college to become a dentist, the thought of it sounded funny but that was his decision there wasn't much you could do.

It had been a few days since they had played their first gig without Chuck, Eddie had switched to bass which was clearly not something he enjoyed, but it had been enough for them to be able to make a good presentation.

Camila had invited you to spend the afternoon with them, which made you notice that these invitations never came from Warren, it was always Camila who requested your presence with them, but you decided to ignore that thought.

You were sitting between Eddie and Warren, Camila was sitting on Billy's lap and Graham was next to them. You ate some snacks in the park while chatting away, some children around were playing with a ball and making noise with the birds.

"Oh by the way, everything ready with the van?" Graham excitedly asks Rojas.

"Yeah, I took it to the mechanic to have a look yesterday." He smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. "She's ready to go."

You frown, not understanding what the subject was. Everyone seemed excited about something you had no idea what it was, so you asked.

"Ready to go where?" You look at the drummer, who stops smiling.

"You didn't tell her?" Eddie raises questioning eyebrows at the drummer.

"Tell me what?" Your chest tightened, you didn't know what was going on but being left out wasn't the best of things.

Camila dropped her gaze to the floor, she also looked upset about the situation, you couldn't be more confused. An awkward silence took over the place, you felt extremely uncomfortable, an anxiety taking over you.

Billy sighs, looking right at you.

"We're going to LA." His words made the tightness in your chest grow, you tried to pretend that tears weren't starting to well up in your eyes.

"You guys are leaving?" You question, already sure of the answer just wanting not to believe it. "Will you Excuse me..."

You stand up, holding back your urge to cry, walking away from them. Eddie glares at the drummer, and tells him to follow you.

Warren stands up, taking a deep breath, he walks towards you, by this time you were already crying. He sits next to you, you turn your back to him, if he said anything you would probably cry more.

"Look doll, I'm sorry." He says softly, reaching for your hand.

"Are you?" You look at him, he can't look you in the eyes.

"I am, I just forgot to tell you." He says, patting your hands. "I was getting the van ready for the trip, packing my things, I had a lot on my mind, that's all."

"You were leaving without telling me…" You were very upset, but deep down you wanted to believe him so badly.

"Believe me doll, I just forgot." Warren says, pulling you close to him, you don't try to fight the contact you loved having him close.

You stand there in silence for a while, he holds you tighter, giving you time to process everything.

"Why didn't any of them tell me?" You felt forgotten by everyone.

"I was supposed to tell you" he says, letting out a sigh. "Billy was going to talk to Camila and I was going to talk to you since…"

"Since?" You let go of the hug, looking at him with a small smile.

"Well, since we're together."

You can't contain your smile, he smiles to see you looking better, he enjoyed your presence and you were very dear to him. He just didn't know that your feelings for him were more intense than that.

He cups your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks and then kisses you.

"Come with us..." He asks, and you immediately nod your head.

You were madly in love with him, and love makes us do crazy things, including moving to another place without any planning for you. The fact of being away from him was something much worse in your head.

Then you moved to LA a few weeks later, having Camila go with you made everything easier, having her always around was wonderful. A while later Graham invited Karen to join the band and you guys hit it off incredibly well, your little family was growing and your heart filled with joy to be with so many incredible people.

But little by little things started to unravel, the tour of The Six started and you and Camila stayed at home thinking about what could be happening. Neither Billy nor Warren answered your calls and their absence left you both anxious and missing them.

Camila had decided to go after them, you were left to take care of everything, there was something in you that was very afraid of what you would find if you went with her. And when she came back devastated, with her eyes swollen from crying, your heart broke to see her like this and the anxiety of what your boyfriend could be doing also took over you.

You learned that Billy had gone to rehab when the band returned, Eddie was devastated, Graham worried about his brother and Karen didn't show many emotions about it.

But when you saw Warren come back it was like you got air after a swim, like you finally found the missing piece to fill you. He smiles when he sees you in the room, opening his arms to envelop you in a hug.

"My doll!" He says squeezing you tighter into the hug. "How have you been?"

"Missed you so much." You say in the hug, feeling him close was relieving.

"Well, you won't have to miss me anymore." He says tickling you.

Rojas liked you, he loved your company, spending nights talking with you, spending time with you was good. He also loved the connection you two had, he loved kissing you, feeling your skin and well the sex was wonderful too. He had nothing to complain about you, but there was something missing… and he couldn't tell what.

The months until Billy got back from rehab were rough, Camila missed him a lot and being a mother wasn't easy, you tried to help her with what you could Eddie also was always there for her. You all were trying to keep it together, the newborn didn't make it easy, y'all weren't used to the crying at all, it messed with your sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Warren says from behind you, making you jump a little.

"Poor Cami…" You say when you hear Julia cry even louder. "If we can't sleep, imagine her."

"Do you think she'll stop soon?" Rojas looked tired, bags under his eyes.

"I don't think so." You laugh at his frustrated expression, you hug him around the waist and he places his chin on top of your head.

Nights like this where it was just the two of you, dealing with everything seemed so much easier. Everything was so uncertain since Billy left that feeling safe for a few moments was perfect.

"I love you." you say in the hug, you feel him freeze and instantly regret saying it.

He breaks the hug and places a kiss on your lips. And although that calmed you down, you never forgot that he didn't say it back.

…

The day Billy and Camila had the party to celebrate the new house you were radiant, After so long things seemed to be coming back together, they had the best music in the country and the record company had taken them back, you only had reasons to celebrate.

You had a big smile on your face when you walked in the house, the decor was wonderful, the food smelled great, and you had your "family" there for that special moment.

Karen was with you sitting at one of the tables in the backyard, from afar you could see Graham and Billy laughing at something, Camila was holding Julia while talking to another group of people, and you couldn't find Warren anywhere.

"Have you seen Warren?" You ask the blonde next to you, while drinking some of the beer you had in hand.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him around here." Karen shrugged. "But don't worry, he must have been late with something, or he's just around the house."

Even with your friend's words you decide to get up to look for the drummer, he seemed distant in the last few days and that worried you. Walking among people you can recognize that curly hair, soon you approach eager to congratulate your favorite drummer, but something's stops you.

Your heart races, your hands start to shake, a shiver takes over your body and you feel your breath disappearing every second longer you watch that scene. There he was, the love of your life, holding another girl by the waist, kissing her the way he does to you.

You can't hold back the tears, breathing became more and more difficult, you needed to get out of there. Gathering the rest of the strength you had, you turn to leave, and when you're finally at the door, you feel someone grab your arm.

"Hey, you're leaving already?" Camila's voice takes your ears, you turn around trying to stop crying but you can't. "Baby what's wrong?"

You can't answer her, you just let the tears fall down your face, it was like your heart was giving up. She hugs you tight, trying to comfort you somehow, she takes you out of the house to a place further away from the crowd.

You are silent for a few minutes, she never let go of your hand as she looked at you worriedly.

"What happened Y/N?" Camila watched you waiting for you to have the courage to speak.

"Warren was kissing another girl." You say in a choked voice.

"What?" Camila was in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"I know what I saw." Your heart broke when you remembered the image. "He doesn't love me, I'll never be enough for him."

Camila hugs you, she understood the frustration and pain you were going through.

"Maybe you guys should talk." She says fixing your hair. "Sometimes things aren't clear between you…"

"What isn't clear Cami?" You had a lump in your throat that wouldn't go away. "I left my home, my family to be with him. I say I love him everyday, what am I doing wrong?"

"Oh baby, you're not doing anything wrong." She had teary eyes too. "Sometimes you can love someone with all that you got, but it doesn't mean it'll be enough for them."

"I can't deal with this right now." You say getting up, leaving aimlessly.

Camila didn't try to stop you, she knew you needed your time. She gets up going back inside the house with a tightness in her chest to see you like this, Warren would have to hear a lot from her!

She storms into the backyard to find the band assembled laughing at something she doesn't hear. Billy is the first to notice her presence, he gets a little tense when he notices his wife clearly angry.

"Everything alright baby?" the older Dunne asks, pulling Julia closer to his lap.

"Not really, quite the opposite actually." She crossed her arms, looking directly at Warren. "You and I have to talk seriously, ahora!"

"Jeez, she spoke in Spanish. Good luck!" Eddie whispers to his best friend.

"Me?" Warren asks with the cigarette dangling between his lips. Camila nods, he gets up following her.

Those left behind were confused, but they knew that if Camila was dealing with this it was better to let her.

"What's on your fucking mind Pendejo?" Warren's body froze, if Camila was mad at him he had screwed up a lot.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, fidgeting with his fingers nervously.

"Didn't you miss anyone among us?" With each word spoken by her, the drummer became more confused.

"Cami, I'm way too high for metaphors." He scratches his head, frowning.

"Y/N saw what you did." In addition to being angry Camila looked disappointed and that messed with Rojas.

"Niña, I don't know what you're talking about." He actually looked confused.

"You fucking kissed another girl tonight Rojas!" Warren looked away, a little embarrassed. "Look at me! What is on your fucking mind to do that?"

"Cami…" He started to say but didn't know how to explain.

"You don't even have an excuse." She chuckles. "She loves you Warren."

"I know." He says, she arched her eyebrows.

"So why did you do this?" Camila had her hands on her hips. "If you know she loves you, and that you would break her heart. Why did you do it?"

"I want to live, don't get me wrong I adore Y/N. She's great!" He says, little by little he realized how fucked up was what he said. "But she holds me back, I want to experience the best of everything I'm living now."

"Warren, you've been together for years." Camila didn't understand his words.

"That's where you're wrong, we never agreed to date, I thought we were having fun…" Warren starts to say but she cuts him off.

"Para, don't be an asshole!" She says, hearing those words coming from her was a shock to the drummer. "Y/N moved here with us for you, she left her family for you…"

"I never asked her to do that!" Rojas tried to explain, but with each word she got angrier.

"She did it for love Warren!" She looked deep into his eyes. "You didn't have to ask her for anything, that girl is madly in love with you. She would do anything to see you well, and it's very cruel of you to play with her feelings like that."

"I'm not playing with anyone's feelings Cami, ya te lo dije!" He wanted to convince himself that it was true, he didn't want that weight on him.

"Warren, you act like her fucking boyfriend." Camila says, trying to keep calm. "But I'm not your mother, I'm not going to stand here lecturing you. You are already too big for this shit, I don't know where she went, but I swear to God Warren If she's not at home by the time I'm there tomorrow. You'll have a problem! Fix this."

...

You had managed to stop crying a few minutes ago, you watched the dark sky trying to understand how to deal with all this. You loved the drummer so much, but you knew that continuing in this might not lead to anything, even if you loved him body and soul.

If you walked a few blocks more you would arrive at the house in Laurel Canyon, but something prevented you from going there, firstly because you would remember everything you lived with Warren there, what frustrated you the most was thinking that he treated you wonderfully there, it was you two against the world always, you felt loved, cherished by him between four walls.

Secondly, because you knew that going back there would make you doubt whether or not that was your place. Just thinking that everything they lived there was false hurts more and more.

You take a deep breath trying to take the courage to go there, then after a long time standing still you walk there.

…

Warren felt horrible, he knew he had done wrong and he couldn't stop thinking about how to fix it. He liked you a lot, but he knew he didn't feel the same way you did about him, and because you were so dear to him he hated that he had done you harm, even though he tried his best to preserve your feelings.

He didn't want to tell anyone about the conversation with Camila, he was too embarrassed, and he knew that Eddie would probably punch him if he found out about it. So he was quiet for the rest of the night, thinking about how to solve it.

When they arrived at the house in Laurel Canyon the lights were on, so you were probably already there, the drummer's heart raced he was afraid to face you. He was afraid to see you sad and disappointed gaze on him.

It's been a few minutes since he was standing in the doorway of the room you shared, afraid to step in and talk to you. He puts his hands to the door to ask permission to enter, but the door is opened before he can.

He's face to face with your puffy eyes, his heart sinks, he can see you were holding back tears, embarrassed he drops his gaze to the floor.

"Look Warren don't worry, I'm packing my things…" You say in a broken voice.

"What?" He says trying to hold your hands, you step back. "Doll, please don't be like that. You don't have to leave."

"Are you serious right now?" He could hear the pain in your voice. "Enter the room, no one needs to hear our conversation."

You ask and he does, sitting on the bed next to you.

"Warren, I love you…" You say, not holding the tear anymore. "And although leaving you will hurt me, I can't just let you hurt me even more."

Rojas had tears in his eyes too, he felt really bad about it all.

"We made things work until now…" He says holding your hands.

"No Warren, I made things work until now." You release your hands from his.

"Don't say it like that doll…" He says, his heart aches to see that the nickname doesn't make you smile like it used to. "I like you, I really do… and I'm sorry for what happened tonight, I messed things up I know but…"

You look down, crying more, he doesn't understand what he said wrong and on impulse he takes your face in his hands. When he saw your teary eyes he regretted it, it was like facing the grossest consequence of his actions.

"What can I do to make it up for you?" He speaks almost like a whisper. "I promise you it won't happen again."

"Warren…" You wanted to say yes, but you knew him. "I can't love alone."

He remained silent, he had nothing else to say to you, and lying to you saying that he loved you too and that it was only you that he imagined in his future was not an option.

"Forgive me Y/N…" His hands were still on your face, forcing you both to look at each other.

"I forgive you." You say crying. "I never thought leaving you would be so hard."

"Stay." He begs you, one more time.

"I need time." You remove his hands from your face, getting up to get your things.

He watches you walk away from him, he cries too, it was like doing something you both needed to do but when the time finally came... It was more painful than ever.

When you approach the door to go, he gets up quickly, you turn to him waiting for him to say something. He doesn't, he just moves closer to you, making your breathing uneven… You kiss him one last time and he holds your waist kissing you tenderly.

"I'll miss you doll." He says with his eyes closed, his forehead resting against yours. "Please, take care… and if you need anything."

"I know." You smile weakly, pulling away from him. "Don't blame yourself, maybe we just met at the wrong time…"

"Yeah, maybe…" He says with a tight chest.

"Can you do me a favor?" You ask, and he nods. "Give this address to Cami, tell her I'll be alright."

He takes the paper, tucking it into his vest pocket, you smile weakly at him getting your bags ready to leave.

"I hope to see you again, doll." He says, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I love you." You say as an ending, leaving.

Warren sits on your bed, already feeling your absence, he watched your part of the closet empty, your side of the bed without you, it was like nothing fit.

Warren Rojas: She had to leave me for me to realize that no one would love me more than her, and also for me to notice what love really was about, months later I found that paper once again and… I went after her, Cami told me to fix things, and I was finally going to do it.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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tyrantisterror · 1 month

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Why are Bulma and Piccolo your favorite Dragon Ball characters?

It might sound weird, but I love Bulma because of her very glaring flaws. She is loud, short-tempered, vain, self-centered, arrogant, too-clever by half, and extremely bossy, all of which are traits that are generally given to villainous women so that we hate them. But Bulma's not a villain - she's a hero, and for all her faults, she's also incredibly smart, resourceful, and resilient. Bulma never says die, never gives up, always tries to come up with a solution to whatever shit gets thrown her way, and goddamn, she manages to pull something together more often than not! In fact, most of her virtues are connected to her flaws - that arrogance pushes her to defy the odds and succeed, her tendency to overshoot when showing off her smarts will lead to situations where she can apply those smarts under pressure to more spectacular results, and you know what, she is really fucking pretty, so why shouldn't she be proud of it? Like, I've said before on a few occasions that I love it when a hero has villain coding, and Bulma has all the same villain coding as Jessie from Team Rocket - but she's a hero, she's unambiguously a hero, and a hero we need more often than not, and that's so damn cool. I love that she gets to be this loud, bossy, arrogant, vain person who's nonetheless a good friend and incredibly reliable and resourceful ally, that for all her abundant faults she's still a lovable and iconic hero. Girl characters don't get to be those things often enough! We need more Bulmas in the world.

My love for Piccolo is a bit simpler/more obvious. One, he's got a kickass character design - he and Aku from Samurai Jack cemented my love of costumes with big fucking shoulder pads/pauldrons. Two, as a person who had never seen Dragon Ball and found out about the series when they aired Dragon Ball Z on Toonami back in the 90's, Piccolo was the weirdest thing that first episode threw at me, and it threw a LOT of weird shit at me in that episode. Talking turtles, cats, and pigs, a lady with blue hair, a guy whose kid has a monkey tail, aliens, all sorts of shit. But then there's this big green guy who everyone is terrified of for reasons the episode doesn't really explain (because there's a whole series you're supposed to have watched before it) who asks the father of the monkey tail boy to team up with him against the monkey tail alien, and the green guy has these weird pink ridges on his arms and the coolest fucking outfit I had seen at that point in my life, and when he takes off his weird purple ball hat thing it turns out he has antenna under it, and his teeth are sharp like a vampire, and he blows a hole through the dad guy's chest, like holy shit what an icon, I loved him immediately.

And then Piccolo proceeds to train the monkey-tail kid, claiming he's going to use him to take over the world, but as the show goes on it's clear that Piccolo is not as evil as he claims to be, and clearly cares for this kid despite claiming to only be using him as a tool, all leading up to the big battle with Nappa where Piccolo, that ruthless green slug vampire motherfucker, takes the killing blow to save the kid he stole. Blew my goddamn mind. There were almost no other characters in the media I had consumed as a child up till that point who matched Piccolo's moral complexity- about the only ones I can think of that compare are Dinobot from Beast Wars and Hexadecimal from Reboot, and, well, I'm also obsessed with those two, so here we are.

Piccolo had a great character arc and defined so much of what made Dragon Ball Z instantly special and unique in my eyes as a kid. There was no one like him, no one who did what he did, no one who looked as cool as he did. What a fucking legend.

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au-starss · 2 years

Text

WHAT'S IN A NAME ?

༄ synopsis… they're voicelines about you, before and after starting a relationship (pt. 2)

༄ characters… artem, ayato, childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, luke, marius, pantalone, thoma, xiao, vyn, zhongli x gn!reader

༄ tags… slightly ooc

༄ words… n/a

༄ author’s thoughts… part 1 can be found here!

luke !

Before dating:

‘One of the best lawyers I know of! God they’re so spectacular. We’ve known each other for quite a while, since we were kids, as a matter of fact. It’s a shame we were separated for so long, but that’s a story for another time, right? Anyways, I’d definitely recommend their services. I can give you a contact number if you’d like.’

Dating:

‘I want to get a bit personal with you, if that’s alright. I love [Name] with everything in me. I want to give them the best life. They’re the reason I’m having a harder time accepting my limited time left. I would hate to just up and leave them like that. So, I’m gonna fight to stay alive. Just for them. [Name] is always someone worth fighting for.’

marius !

Before dating:

‘Definitely someone who’s really feisty. Even during our first meeting they were determined to not play my games and get what they needed with me. Though, we did get a little closer after investigating together. Hopefully you trust me when I say that they are one of the best lawyers around. I could go on for hours about [Name]’s skills if you’d like.’

Dating:

‘A work of art to me. That’s how I would describe them in my eyes. Ever since our relationship started my artistry has been filled with them and their beautiful smiles. I’m hoping to compose a book of drawings of us, and maybe even gift it to them one day. That way, [Name] knows how incredible they are to me. Yeah, that’s a good idea!’

pantalone !

Before dating:

‘I can let you in on something about [Name], traveler. They’re a harbinger for a reason. Their negotiation and gambling skills are beyond anything I’ve seen before. They even exceed my own in some areas. Working with [Name] always guarantees success on my part when it comes to trades. I assure you, you don’t want to get on their bad side.’

Dating:

‘It’s truly mind blowing how well we work together in a relationship. I love them to death, and I trust they do love me too. I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I hadn’t pursued a relationship with them. That made me realize a small pang of loneliness I always had before. I can’t imagine going back to feeling that way again, all thanks to my love, [Name].’

thoma !

Before dating:

‘[Name] is one of my closest companions at the estate! They’re always offering to help me with my daily duties after they finish. They’re such a blast to hang around all the time. Even my lord and my lady enjoy [Name]’s presence when having a nice evening. You should come and spend a dinner with us one night traveler, how about it?’

Dating:

‘Where do I even begin with them? [Name] is absolutely spectacular in so many ways. Words can’t properly explain everything about them. We both really enjoy helping the local dogs when we have free time. To be honest traveler, I want to spend the rest of my life with them. It’s selfish, I know, but I truly can’t help it when it comes to them.’

xiao !

Before dating:

‘Oh yeah, I know of them. [Name] is one of the workers here at the Inn. They’re always bringing me meals, leaving them on the table and coming back later to see if I’ve eaten them. It’s irritating; we’ve never once come face to face yet they’re so adamant on making me get that meal. Maybe I could consider showing myself to them so they stop coming.’

Dating:

‘They’re.. too kind for their own good. The amount of times they come back after I push them away is frustrating and irritating. [Name] doesn’t understand how being with me endangers them. Still.. I can’t help but feel somewhat nice that someone is taking time to be with me everyday. But that stays between us traveler, understand?’

vyn !

Before dating:

‘They’ve already exceeded my expectations so many times, despite knowing each other for less than a year. [Name] truly is remarkable. A good lawyer, a sharp mind, and even good character. It’s hard to find someone with all those good qualities these days. I want to further my relationship with them, and I do believe you should meet them.’

Dating:

‘I never believed myself capable to love someone as much as I love [Name]. Everyday they continue to shock me in the best way possible. If I may get personal with you, my social experiences as a child weren’t great. Meeting [Name] and allowing them in my heart was scary, but I overcame it. I have them, and I never want to let them go.’

zhongli !

Before dating:

‘Ah, you speak of one of Ningguang’s closest companions, is that right?. If I may, I believe they are reliable and easy to speak with. I’ve noticed [Name]’s interest in some of the stories I have to tell. I enjoy they’re company, and I truly don’t mind telling them any stories or facts I know. I believe their attentive nature is why Ningguang likes them so much.’

Dating:

‘What a beautiful soul they are. I sometimes wonder how I managed to become lucky as such, with [Name] by my side like this. It’s things like these that make one really start to think traveler. I have a will to protect them with everything I have. Such a pure soul in this world is hard to find, and I plan to keep mine for a while.’

#༄ order up!#artem x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #luke x reader #marius x reader #pantalone x reader #thoma x reader #xiao x reader #vyn x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader

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bazzybelle · 7 months

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Good Omens 2 and Wayward Son - A Fan's Commentary on Fandom Reactions

I’m going to start off by saying apologies for any obvious grammatical errors. I am writing purely from the heart here.

Also, apologies to my Sandman friends. If you haven’t read The Simon Snow Trilogy, this will go over your heads. However, I have been going back and forth on writing this meta since the release of Good Omens 2, and I just finished reading a spectacular meta on queer ships becoming canon by @avelera, which you can find here (read it, it’s brilliant). Anyway, I feel now’s a good time to let out all of my feelings when it comes to Good Omens 2 and how similar it was to reading Wayward Son.

Simon Snow friends, you all know that Wayward Son is my favourite book out of the trilogy. You also know that this can be considered a controversial take within the fandom. And I don’t mean that in a toxic way, this fandom is one of the more wholesome fandoms I’ve seen; But in the way of like… Wayward Son is itself a polarizing book.

I say this, knowing full well what went down when Wayward Son was released. Perhaps I had the advantage of not being completely embroiled within the Simon Snow fandom until after I’d finished reading the book, but I lived on the periphery. I followed Rainbow on Twitter (fuck you, I am not calling it X), I had saved some artwork on Pinterest (before I found out those were stolen, wherein I immediately unpinned them and deleted my fandom folders), and I was excited to get Wayward Son as soon as it came out. So much so that I asked my husband to go to the Indigo near his office and buy it because I wanted to read it right away.

Friends, I demolished that book within a DAY.

Then I read it again. And again. And again.

Then I wrote my first fanfiction in eight years.

This book changed me. But you all know that. I’ve talked about it often, and that’s not what this meta (Editorial? Opinion piece? Shouting into the void?) is about.

What I am going to talk about is the amount of pure vitriol this book got once it was released. There was SO MUCH complaining about the book. It was too short! There was no point to it! Why aren’t Simon and Baz having sexy vampire sex? Why aren’t they living together (never mind that this was briefly discussed at the end of Carry On, but go off I guess)?

And you know what’s even funnier? Within a couple of weeks (it might have even been days, I’m a little fuzzy on timelines) Rainbow announced the third book. We knew, right away, that Wayward Son was meant to be an in-between book! Rainbow, being a fandom person herself, has said time and time again that she had always considered Wayward Son as an in-between book, structured like The Empire Strikes Back within the Star Wars original trilogy. Like think of the in-between books of any series, they are ALWAYS the darkest ones. In order to fully appreciate the win in the end, you need to go through the tough shit.

What I loved about Wayward Son was it took that idea and spun it. It went all “ok, yeah we dealt with the win, now let’s deal with the aftermath. Only then can we have the makeouts and sexy times these guys deserved.” (and damn, did Any Way The Wind Blows deliver on that promise).

But I am getting away from myself again. Point is, it was always meant to be an in-between book. There was always meant to be a resolution at the end of the trilogy. But that sure as hell didn’t stop people from outright demanding Rainbow give them the happy ending NOW. Pestering her on Twitter, (not so much on Tumblr) demanding she do this, or do that, or “you better not kill Baz” (even though she has ALWAYS SAID SHE NEVER WOULD) or “they better not break up” (even though, narratively, it was heading in that direction). The closer the book got to release date, the more people complained about how awful Wayward Son was.

It was really disheartening to see.

Which is why I got really upset when the SAME THING happened after the release of Good Omens 2.

(For clarification purposes, because several of my friends have spoken to me about their own personal issues with Good Omens 2. And you are all super fucking valid. I am strictly referring to the amount of anger I saw online because although Aziraphale and Crowley kissed, they didn’t have an immediate happily ever after. I am also speaking of the anger expressed because the season wasn’t wrapped up in a neat little bow.)

Like with the release of Wayward Son, people seemed to have forgotten that season 2 of Good Omens was meant to be an inbetween season. Neil Gaiman has not been shy to talk about that. He has said over and over again that Season 2 was always meant to be a bridge between the Good Omens he and Terry Pratchett wrote together, and the sequel they had been planning.

What… did you all just forget about that? Do you not know how narrative writing works?

It’s like people refused to take a step back and breathe for a second and appreciate the season for what it was. A beautiful romantic story (because, IT WAS! Just like Neil said it would be), as well as a lead up into what will be the epic, dramatic conclusion. No, instead people started demanding the happy ending NOW, and getting angry when Neil wouldn’t budge and offer more information (even though he never has before) (funny how people just… forgot that).

It was Wayward Son all over again.

Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I was crushed with the way Good Omens 2 left off. Just like I was so confused when Wayward Son ended out of the blue. You know what I did about that? I wrote fic, I read the book again, and I happily anticipated the upcoming final part that would tie up all the loose ends.

Know what I’m doing to heal after Good Omens 2? I’m looking at gifs, rewatching episodes, laughing at memes and crack, and hoping to all the gods of story writing that Amazon approves of a third season, so that Neil Gaiman can be allowed to finish the story he and Terry Pratchett built together.

It’s become sad to watch this feral hunger from fans demanding immediate gratification, and getting upset when it isn’t the ending or gratification they were expecting. Wayward Son came out after years of Carry On fans having nothing else but the one book. Like I said, I wasn’t part of the fandom then, so I don’t know how fans from 2015 felt upon learning they’d get more Simon and Baz. Same with Good Omens. I only really got into the fandom a few months before season 2 came out. So I don’t know how OG fans felt waiting and waiting and waiting. So maybe I have that going for me as an advantage, that my hunger wasn’t growing more and more feral.

Then again, I’m now a part of The Sandman fandom, and we’re essentially waiting on Season 2 to start development. And while I’m hoping a few things are tweaked (like Dream and Hob’s relationship), I’d be more than fine if it stays the same as in the comics. And if they decide to go about that in an entirely different way, I’d be fine with that too. You know why? Because I’ve learned to trust the writers of the stories I love not to lead me astray.

And if I’m unhappy with something –because nothing is ever 100% perfect, and even my favourite stories end up coming short– there are always fanfictions to write, gifs to laugh at, and fandom friends to discuss plots and meta with.

I may have lost the point of this meta. I tend to do that, following a train of thought that doesn’t always make sense in the end.

Fandom friends, can we all just agree to take a breath and be thankful of the stories given to us? Can we learn to appreciate the entire picture, and not just a tiny section of it? And for the love of all that is holy, can we learn to be patient and to listen when our story tellers remind us to wait and see? To trust them when they assure us that our characters will have a happy ending, even if they need to traverse a little in the dark to get there?

I sure as hell am, and I hope you will too.

Gonna tag @carryonsimoncarryonbaz because she was instrumental in encouraging me to write this.

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unlikelyfanhairdoalmond · 3 months

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Oh my, so interesting what he explains about him and Téa. 🥹 So happy for them, and for him to have found someone like this. ❤️

[VIDEO BELOW - New interview with Kara]

Kara : How are things with your accomplice?? How is your accomplice?

Tim : She’s a miracle. I never thought that I would experience something like that at my age. And I had sort of come to terms with like maybe being alone or maybe being some kind of casual thing that wasn’t really too demanding and then we met and it all changed! It is the deepest, most fun, most truly intimate relationship I’ve ever had.

Kara : so why do you think that is? What’s different? What makes it like that?

Tim : […] We want someone to see us. And if we get into a place where we allow someone to really see us, everything, and they can look at that and say ‘Ok, ‘I’m okay with this. All this good stuff and all that bad stuff’ then it’s like a profound relief to be able to be your entire self and know that someone is not gonna blame you or try to change you in a way that’s punishing or belittle you for the things that you have that are human flaws; but you know, try to help you and try to encourage you to improve without trying to fix you. So, all that stuff.

Kara : So, there’s something about her that helped you trust that she would do that, be like that with you? Or were you at a time in your life where you were ready to expose yourself in that way?

Tim : All of the above. And, talking about fear, I was terrified because basically she said to me ‘Give it all, give me everything. Tell me the whole story, all the shit, all the stuff you’ve done you’re not proud of, you’re ashamed of, just tell me and I’ll deal with it’. And I was like ‘okay…’ thinking that perhaps I would get annihilated, you know, that I would step on the landmine the was in the mine field or the eggshells that was out there. I took that risk and I laid it all out and she was like ‘okay. Let’s do this’. Wow, you know and… [getting emotional]. It was and has been an amazing thing and feels not punishing at all. And… some of my relationships I’ve felt punished.

Kara : Right, which would make you think that future relationship would as well, because it was your history, it’s what you knew.

[…]

Kara : You and Téa met when you were on ‘Madam Secretary’. I don’t know if you met before that but that’s when you started becoming intimate. That ended like years ago now. How many years has it been?

Tim : Four years, five years, something like that.

Kara : So, it’s interesting that you are great with that situation, and your environment now is totally different; you’re not working together. And has it changed at all? Was it more something then or more something now?

Tim : That’s better. That’s better now. Yeah, you know, it’s funny because I’m pretty sure there were a lot of eyes rolling on set and lots of nervous people going like ‘Oh God, when that blows up it’s gonna be a disaster. Oh, on set romance…’ And we were a little bit before #MeToo so we could have our romance without being so careful about it, and all this stuff, and there was, I’m not sure if it’s actually called this, it’s called a ‘Love contract’ that you were supposed to fill out for CBS saying ‘We are in a relationship, we work together so if things go badly, we’re not gonna bring it to work’ but we never did.

Kara : Oh, you never signed it?

Tim: No, we never signed it and we never brought our shit to work.

Kara : Very good. There’s something going on that you’ve decided, you’ve approached the whole thing in a healthy way it seems like, to me […].

Tim : It’s pretty spectacular.

Kara : I also love the fact that she said ‘Give me all of it?’. Like she literally said that?

Tim : Yeah. It’s funny also, and so surprising for me. I showed up for work one day at Madam Secretary and I opened the door to my dressing room and there were like 25 pairs of high heel shoes and all this lingerie and I was like ‘What’s happening here?’ And Téa is like ‘Why do we have separate dressing rooms? I’ll just be in here.’ And first I was like ‘Wait, my space, etc.’ and I was like ‘No, she wants to be with me so badly that she’s moved her high heels into my room, so I better take this, this is a good thing.’ And her dressing room turned into a place where we would take naps. At lunchtime, we looked like cadavers. We would lie next to each other and just pass out for about 18 to 20 minutes, we got so good at it, and then we could continue on with our day.

youtube

#timdaly #tim daly #madam secretary #timmydaly #téa x tim #téaleoni #interview #téa leoni #Youtube #téa and tim #timéa

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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OCTOBER 22ND. HARLEY QUINN

“stupid bats! you're ruinin' date night!”

♱ — satoru gojo + weaponsplay.

♱ — synopsis; she was fearless, crazier than him and god help the poor soul who dared to cross satoru gojo’s harley quinn during her alone time with her beloved puddin’.

♱ —length; 5.5K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of smoking, strip clubs, toji being a slimeball, degradation, lingerie, praise, corruption, cockwarming, exhibitionism, power dynamics, weapons play, gun play, knife play, blood play, clothed sex, brief daddy!kink, fem!reader, harley quinn!reader, joker!gojo. not beta read !

♱ — notes; hello again cuties!! i cant believe its the fourth fic already omg, i hope you like this one!! idk how i feel about it but i hope you guys like it at least. mwah <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

may god help whoever pissed you the fuck off.

behind every great man, and all the power he may have, is an equally spectacular woman.

with the exception of satoru gojo, a man who ruled almost an entire city— a man but only a few steps behind the woman he loved. you’re part of the reason he’s even made it this far, surviving under the noses and the partnerships of dirty city cops and big bad crime bosses. he did use you, his pretty little play thing— your alluring eyes, your gorgeous body, your voice that made an itch run up and down his spine.

you were really what let the notorious satoru gojo stay in control.

stay being, the feared, the gruesome, joker.

maybe the relationship you had formed through the way gojo was obsessed with your obession over him—or because of how crazy you just might be. a murderer wrapped in a dazzling, sexy fucking mystery. at this point, the lines between love and lust were far too blurred to be distinguished— maybe satoru did love you, if he left himself fall just enough. he wouldn’t let anyone else have you, not in the same way he did. you’d claimed him far before he had a chance to claim you.

if there was a target on gojo’s back, you’d have taken care of it before he even knew he was at risk of death. not that he feared it…he was the most powerful man alive, but you were like a saftey net, having you made the man feel stronger— even if you weren’t weak. in exchange for every breath he took, every moment that you’d protected him, no crime boss in the city under gojo’s rule could put their hands on you— no matter how much havoc you wreaked or lives you ruined.

truth be told, for a man who commanded so much fear, who smiled at the sight of crimson blood— gojo couldn’t seem to figure out why you didn’t run for the hills at the first sight of him. but perhaps in the time you’d spent trying to fix the broken dancer in his jewellery box head, maybe he’d broken you down too and made you just like him. fearless and crazier than him.

“puddin’,” you drawl, dainty fingers trained to kill twirl a lock of gojo’s white hair between them. “‘m mad at’cha.”

you’d come to one of gojo’s clubs for the night— the weight of a business deal clinging to the sweaty air as bodies on bodies grinded and slid against one another. your role tonight, was to play consolation prize-on-a-strip-pole for the client, toji fushiguro. your man wanted his hands on that man’s money. the money he owed gojo, it was kinda funny, the loan toji had taken never even touched his son; and after that night the kid would probably never see his father again. gojo’d take his money and blow his brains out.

but that wasn’t a price high enough for the way the other man had touched you tonight, his scummy fingers nothing like the man you adored’s pulling at parts of you where your pretty baby doll blue lingerie showed the slightest slither of skin. you’d dressed like this for satoru only, glossed lips drawn into a heavy spout when he’d whistled you over to dance for his client.

it was clear you weren’t in any mood to toy with toji before his inevitable last moments while gojo talked his ear off about percentages and loans fushiguro’s was too dumb to understand. still, you did what your lover asked of you— desperate for ocean eyes to trace down the pearls and pretty lace that moulded to fit the curve of your breasts, the gems that glimmered and dangled just over your skimpy panties whenever you shook or twirled or bent over filthy toji fushiguro’s lap ( his obvious boner prodding into your bare thighs as you worked ).

of course the sight only served to rile gojo up, a cool fire in his heart spreading through his veins like his blood was gasoline whenever you giggled at toji’s half assed compliments. you were only ever meant to smile for satoru, to be this giddy over the strings of words that barely gave you the time of day. he was jealous, yes— unbelievably so but you both had a job to do.

that was until toji unceremoniously cups your covered cunt with a sleazy hand and asks satoru if “this pretty hunk of meat can be loaned as well.”

you lose your cool before gojo does and before anyone knows it, the knife concealed in your dainty baby blue garter belt is lodged deep enough into toji's hand, that it makes the grown man cry.

the reaction was perfectly within your right; bloodlust curling around the dilated pupil in your eye— but gojo had given you the cold shoulder ( no pun intended ) for supposedly messing up his deal— even though you’d done all of this for him. dressed pretty and danced all for him. you’re pissed, rightfully so, and drag your man by the tie into his back office, forcing him down onto the couch to take a seat and learn his lesson.

no one turns their back on you.

and that brings you both to now, blood red lipstick smeared along gojo’s silver moon skin— dragged up his jawline and right under his ear. the crime boss is a little high, running on the fumes of the party roaring outside while intoxicated with liquid lust and obsession directed towards you. his hands roam your blistering hot body, lips on yours despite the plasticky taste of fenty product glossing your own. he misses the metallic, binding down on the pink stained flesh to draw blood— groaning into your mouth as it lingers on his tongue before satoru forces it down your throat.

there are still people who work here in the room, either stuck in their places not knowing where to look or casting their gazes elsewhere as the two of you make out. “get the fuck out,” gojo hisses when he finally comes up for air, though his brain is fizzing like popping candy and he can’t quite think straight without his mind running right back to you. “d’aw… you mad at me princess?” his voice is strained in the base of his throat, since somewhere in the mix of sloppy kisses you’ve ripped through tight dress pants, slid your glistening baby blue panties to the side and have slid yourself down onto gojo’s pulsating cock, keeping it tucked away in your warmth.

even you’re out of breath, chest heaving as you adjust around the lengthy stretch of satoru gojo. “i dressed all pretty for you,” you state, ribbed walls kissing the fat blue vein that wrap around gojo. you drop down his balls, happy to take him into your walls. “and this,” you clench, sending a ripple of desire through the man at your mercy. “this is the thanks i get?” you look down at the silver haired crime boss, hair dishevelled and out of place, through your doe eyes and push your hands into his chest. “men are so useless puddin’.”

your hips peel from gojo’s clothed thighs, a sticky slap resounding in the back room when you thrust back down— watching your man splutter, reaching up to your chest to toy with the flimsy lace around your breasts. “fuck princess,” he heaves in a murky breath, nails digging into your soft mounds. “y’so right, ‘m useless. fucking useless.”

it’s illegal how warm and wet you are, gojo’s sensitive tip nudging against your silken walls as they ripple around him and you cockwarm him. there’s got to be some sort of criminal charge for this, one that’ll keep him locked up in your tightness for all of eternity. “want it off.” he demands, slender fingers poking underneath the material of your bra. “take it off baby, lemme see.” just as ice cold and ringed fingers brush over your nipples, the crime boss thrusts up into you— delirious with addiction and lust, sapphire eyes lost in the abyss of his skull just from feeling you.

“don’t think ya deserve it, mista ‘g!” with your eyes bright and crazed, you mock gojo, keeping yourself seated in his lap as he thrusts up into you again, working his hips into a steady rhythm— enough for the sound of his balls tapping against your ass to echo throughout the room accompanied by light breaths of exertion.

he’s in deep, tip brushing your gummy walls and satoru knows you’ll break soon, he can feel it in the shirt of your hips and how you suck him down nice and wetly. “c’mon baby, c’mon,” the man coos, looking up at you with big blue eyes— their silvering flecks begging you for mercy as if you’re a god. “you know you want it, that you can take it. you wanna be fucked so good, i know princess. let me take care of you.” a large hand reaches around the chub of your pretty hips, fingers spread over the expanse of your soft tummy to dip just over your folds, the finger tips brushing against your swelling clit from over the hole in your lingerie.

you tremble, sensitive and gojo’s eyes light up. “atta girl, give into daddy, lemme have you…” the man’s words are so softly spoken for someone who lives off the sound of screaming victims. “oh princess, ya hear that?” his blunt nails, blood caked underneath them sink into the globes of your ass— holding you just above his lap so you can listen to the lewd, squelch of your sex as he slips in and out of you with every slow roll of hips up into you, creamy strings of your arousal clinging to the blue forked veins decorating his cock. “that’s how much you need me, listen to that. you need me.”

satoru feeds you sweet lies that keeps you under his spell— keeps you under his possession and drowns you with obsession. he keeps you pacified with a lazy bump and grind, barely giving you a second to breathe or think outside of the way he fucks up into you just right. there’s a hand on the back of your neck that keeps you anchored down to your puddin’, your lips parted as gojo coaxes you into his realm of bloody sin and breathes desire into youropen mouth. the way you move with one another, sensual sticky grinds is a dance routine that only lovers know— fingertips and wandering hands alike able to touch and prod and pinch at the sensitive spots you’ve discovered on one another.

“fuck, ‘toru,” your whimper betrays your, just like your body does— you’re supposed to be mad at him, using him but your frame shakes and blossoms under satoru’s touch, blood coursing through your veins as it’s dotted with hormones of lust, stinging at your clit. “son of’a bitch,” is all you can manage when satoru’s lips attach to the valley between your bouncing breasts from over your clothes, sucking a mark into the gap with his tongue rolling saliva over the abused area. he gets you fucked up and dizzy on lust as if it were a drug— looking up at you with hooded sapphire eyes, clinging onto the reaction of his mouth working wonders across your hot flesh.

the crime boss abandons the cliffs of your collarbones, sloppily kissing down to your pebbled nipples as you grind down on his aching dick, back and forth and matching satoru’s toe curling pace— barely pulling out of your selfish little hole, dripping with liquid gold, adding a shine to his thighs under the dingy back light of his club and a wetness to your clothes. every stroke of his dick within the depths of your silken, ribbed walls earns you a lap from the tip of his tongue around your budding nipples and the same action rewards satoru with your arching back and a muffled whine.

“use me,” gojo let’s go of your saliva soaked breast with pop, before he near pleads as if he’s in court and insanity is the alibi to excuse all of his crimes— aching to be locked away in your pulsating warmth for all of time. there’s spit on his lips and chin, a fresh red tint glowing under his pale skin with the heat of his blood blush as he thrusts up and barely pulls back from the heaven between your thighs.

“wonderin’ how pretty you’ll look coming undone in this pretty little get up f’me, princess,” he pants, gaze dropping and fascinated by his milky cock disappearing into your fat pussy. “got all my attention now, don’t gotta fight someone over me— fuck,” drawling out his words, the man uses slender fingers to spread your netherlips apart, showing of the glaze of your arousal as it coats him to his hungry eyes.

he’s a powerfully pathetic man beneath you, grinding up against your salacious insides— jamming into your g-spot, and it makes you mad, it frustrates you how good gojo is able to make you feel even when he’s wounded your heart.

“use me baby, come on. work those pretty little hips, make yourself feel good.” satoru’s cheeks flush a pretty pink; tongue soaked in his own spit as he glances up at you once more— panting like a wet, dirty dog and fucking up into you to his hearts content. using you for his own pleasure even after how he treated you today. you look so good like this, fuck, and gojo thinks about how lucky he is to have a girl like you want a man like him— no one else gets to watch strings of drool break away from the roof of your mouth each time you moan, no one else has pleasure of brutally jackhammering into you, letting you adjust to the stretch of him all up against you.

bouncing in your lover’s lap, you clench down hard until there’s a hiccup in the way he pounds at your puffy mound, and he chokes on a deep whine, blue eyes flickering down to where he pulls himself inside of you.. “really, mista g?” you sigh dreamily, hearts dotted like sparkles in your eyes as you cup his cheeks with one hand to keep his gaze on you and yanking the gun from the holster on his taut waist at the same time. “you really are so pathetic puddin’,”

those same slender fingers on one of his large hands have bruising grip on your waist— the shape of satoru’s fingertips indented into your supple, blemished flesh before he lets go to flip a switch blade against your throat. “being in love with you makes me pathetic, angel?” there’s a gasp that lies wet on the seam of gojo’s lips, shaky as he peels his sweaty thighs away from yours and tugs his cock from your snugness of your oozing cunt before cantering forward and shoving it right up into your womb. the force makes both of you drool, the knife against your throat just nicking your smooth skin and your finger jumps to find the trigger of your gun.

“go ahead, shoot me.” he goads your through gritted teeth, eyes bright with adrenaline and temptation. so you press the barrel of you weapon against the crime boss’ shining forehead and between moonlight coloured locks, letting satoru pacify himself with licking the trail of crimson dripping from your neck in the meantime. blood should be freezing in his veins, not the temperate prickle of euphoria slipping through his veins. you’re a killer, and that excites him, who knows what you’ll do to gojo if given the chance… if you didn’t love him like this. “dead or alive, this pussy’s mine. you’re mine. i’m yours.”

you can hear the desperation caught in the ridges of gojo’s voice while he rocks himself into you feverishly, chest heaving as his pace turns erratic with excitement— and you’re the same, blood rushing through your your body carrying a stream of sex hormones and dopamine. “yeah?” you tilt your head with a sinister murmur, licking the salt from your lips, a murderously obsessed glint in your eye. “you’re mine, puddin’,”

maybe you’re crazy; but that doesn’t matter to satoru, not when his heart beats hard against his rib cage in anticipation. “filthy fucking boy,” you simper. “i could kill you and you’d still be cumming like a dirty slut, huh puddin’?” if he really were to die here, he’d be happy, covered in everything that is you, stuffed inside the woman he loves.

then, you pull the trigger, doe eyes closed adrenaline ceasing your pulse for just a second and—

click. the gun doesn’t go off.

the sick smile gojo gives you is enough to cloud your brain, make you dizzier as he leans upwards to catch your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss— tongue pressing into your mouth, transferring the taste of iron onto your own. “see baby,” he spits along the seam of your mouth, connecting you by saliva there and by fat beads of precum between your sore thighs. gojo’s cock practically fights your selfish pussy to pull out, digging into your g-spot as you fall into a tune of creamy, sensual sex. the blade is still ice cold between your bodies, the man grazing the tip down your middle, over the swell of your meaty thighs… breaking skin shallowly as gojo draws shapes of love, hearts and his name over the tops of them.

the red blood liquid seeps between your legs, leaking from your fresh wounds, joining the slick at clings to your sexes. “does that hurt good angel, can i cut you up some more?” gojo is close to losing it over the mess where your bodies join, getting dizzy, wanting to pull more juices and whines from your pussy and sweet lips.

“shut up, toru,” but you pay no mind to the slight sting as if you’re used to it and you’re wistful when you look at him again, tears caught in your lashes despite how estatic you are. “you trust me?” gojo watches you squeal, leaning back in his seat as you pull your ass off of him, squeezing down on his creamy tip and overwhelming each one of his senses— blue eyes sent back into his skull.

“mhm baby…with my life,” he slurs avidly, sounding like he’s barely there, clinging onto his existence for the ecstasy you have gojo in is driving him off of the walls. satoru pushes his head up against the barrel still in his face, with glinting eyes, keeping it there before he flops back against the couch, you nestle yourself on his chest— practically pounding yourself down on the curve of his girth, drooling honey down his shaft, juices catching on the purpling veins there. how can you not know? you are gojo’s life.

a jack of all trades, his ace… his lucky fixation.

there’s a knock at the door, barely heard over the chorus of skin slapping on skin, the pap of your swollen mound while the crime boss churns up your insides until he’s in heaven. everything is so obscene, unholy sounds from your precious parts

tingling passionately in the air between you due to the crude mix of your bodily fluids. “well ya shouldn’t,” you growl with a bright blood lust in your veins, cocking your gun again. there’s no hesitation in your next moves, putting a bullet in the leg of the person entering only to disrupt you both with practiced ease. “‘m dangerous, honey.”

the intruder hits the ground with a dull thud, which goes unheard under the sound of skin clapping against skin with no rhyme or rhythm— delirious and delectable moans bouncing off the walls.

seeing you effortlessly threaten someone’s life makes gojo’s dick throb deliciously inside of you. “don’t care angel. i’d let’cha fuck me up real pretty,” he laments dreamily over the weight of saliva pooling on his tongue, gaze honed in on where your bodies join, obsessing with how your puffy clit sticks to his pelvis every time he pulls out of your slick slit. “do anything you fucking want to me—“

with a roll of your eyes— you drag the gun back between your sex craved bodies and nudge it past satoru’s glossed lips, forcing it deeper into his mouth until it his uvula. “shut up, baby, ya talk way too much.” your voice is sweet, like honey running through the man’s ears but your expression is crazed, rabid as if hurting satoru only serves to turn you on more. or maybe it’s seeing a man so powerful, so feared just like him, sucking on a gun like he’s taking a cock down his throat— so obedient for someone so used to control. his pink tongue darts out to roll across the weapon, cool in gojo’s mouth despite how hot the air between your grinding, sweat slicked bodies pressed against one another. “you take it like a bitch, i know you can do better.”

letting your head roll to the side, you thrust the gun deep into the hazy heat of satoru’s mouth in tune with your hips slamming down on his aching dick— plunging him as deep as he can go, as much as he can take without passing out on you. “you’re such a mess toru, s’embarrasing h-how much you want this,” you grin, somewhat sadistic, pussy gripping the man for dear life— despite the crude mix of arousal that lets you slide up and down his length so easily. “big bad satoru. mista g. the joker… swallowing down my gun like s’my cock.” you giggle, the condescending tone of your words has gojo’s mind spinning, pushing whatever leaks from his tip further into your puckered hole.

gojo stubbles forward, gagging on the gun, coating it in his spit with his sapphire eyes crossed with a pink flush to his cheeks. “that’s it puddin’, fuck it.” you coo, hazy and impressed before you let your perfectly manicured finger slip over the trigger once more. “fuck me, this gun. like ya mean it, kay?”

he’d do whatever you want if you asked him to, he’d rip stars from the sky— burn cities to ashes, line everyone who’s ever hurt you or lead you to this fucked up life on their knees and kill them off one by one if you needed him too. there wasn’t a person or thing that could stop gojo’s heart from following after your every move, keeping you by his side for all of time.

keeping you stuffed full on his cock, your pussy frothing a bubbly white. between ravaging and feverish thrusts, the crime boss swipes a thumb over your pleasure nub, writing his name in calculated circles over it and smoothing obtuse globs of precum into it too. gojo barely flinches when the gun clicks with an empty shot, hardly breathing with his throat constricting around the barrel at your doing.

liquid lust oozes down his balls as you pull the weapon from his mouth— watching the string of saliva that connects satoru to it. “s’kinda disgustin’ puddin’,” rolling your hips tantalisingly, you wrap your arms around gojo’s head to hug him to your chest in comfort— smiling as he gasps for air desperately. “how much you’d so f’me, you’re a mess.”

“i love you,” satoru counters, trembling against your bosom, white ( though not pure ) hair sticking to your blistering skin. now it’s his turn. he whips his blade out once more; tearing through the sleeves of your pretty lingerie, making sure to pound you until his seed marks your insides and your swollen lips form that nice o-shape you make when you’re falling apart from pleasure. “told you angel, i’d do anything for you.” you gasp at the cold air hitting your skin, then mewl like a fucking pornstar at gojo’s mouth on your breast again— taking your puffy nipples between his teeth and rolling them. “make you feel good, make you see fuckin’ stars.” he looks up at you, so unlike the cool and collected mob boss he usually is and instead, a puppy desperate for your approval.

“if y-you’re that obsessed with m-me,” you squeal, wringing your hands in moonlight locks, every push and pull of satoru’s wet cock sending orgasmic shocks through his system. “then make me cum, s'humiliating how you haven’t yet, can’t you do anythin’. make yourself useful—“

the man doesn’t respond, using one hand to grab the fat at your ass to pull you up and down on him, holding you up so he can fuck you fast and hard— pressing close to your cervix while you gush like a river, face tingling with heat. “keep talkin’ like that baby,” he pleads, almost begging you for more…talking down on him only motivates satoru more, only makes him want to fuck you until he feels like he deserves the honour of bathing his dick in your juices. “makes me so fucking hard for you,”

spinning the blade between his fingers on the other hand, he lets it cut into your flesh with careful affection at your collarbones— growling into the skin on your chest with a trail of sloppy kisses, fixated on the droplets of ruby that ooze from your new wound. his eager tongue slips over it, sucking on the taste of your iron blood, moaning at the taboo flavour. “fuck ‘toru, fuck me good. y’can do better than this,” though he claws at your round ass to hold you in place, balls heavy with cum drumming against the peachy flesh, satoru slips out from just how fast he’s trying to pound you. “s’much cock ‘n ya don’t even know how t’fuckin’ use it.”

useless, he’s so fucking useless and he can barely breathe— using his hold on you to drag your sloppy pussy over his cockhead, struggling to slip it back into with how shaky you both are. close to the edge, close to falling apart. “work with me angel, lemme fuck you again. lemme in, want this angel cunt so bad. adore it.” satoru pleads, bulbous and red tip prodding at your entrance with desire brewing heavy between you both in the sex tainted air. the couch breaks beneath you with the weight of your bump and grind, smearing precum and blood about the place.

“that’s it… oh fuck me, open up f’me angel, pussy so good, you’re so fucking good to me,” the man drawls; listening to the way your pussy peels away from his soaked thighs with a sticky noise as he tries to sink back into your ribbed, silken walls. gojo flips the knife between hands, carving shapes of love into your blemished, soft skin. a heart against your ass, his initials under your breast— whatever you allow him to do, blood soiling through the pale blue of your darling outfit. and fuck if the crimson colour doesn’t make you shine. “s-shit! there we fuckin’ go.”

like a fallen angel, carrying the sins of satoru gojo’s crimes on tone blood soaked wings.

using two fingers, you gather the nasty mix of your mixed arousals and the droplets of your blood— pushing the digits into the crime boss’ mouth and pressing down on his tongue. “y’talk so much shit for someone who can barely make a girl cum, puddin’,” you stutter out, tail end of your words falling into a high pitched moan as gojo fills you up once more in one fail swoop. he bullies his way right up to your womb— clit grinding against your lover’s hip bone painted with your sweet scented juices. “oh baby, r-right there!” you exclaim, but the crime lord can’t tell if it’s from you being so full once more, or because of the cute heart he carves into your inner thigh.

but no matter how much you keep up the act, gojo knows your body like the back of his hand— he knows what you like, how you adore his tongue running between your two fingers like he’s slurping on your puffy folds, nudging it’s pink tip over your darling clit. you shove your digits deeper, lifting and dropping your abused, raw cunt down on the man like your life depends on it— light headed from blood loss and desire. satoru’s cockhead burns past your entrance in tune with your fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of iron and honey from them— soaking himself in your warmth before he slams up into you.

he only lets you ruin him and his image because he loves you, because he can’t stand to picture you with another man like toji— because being a man of his calibre he knows that he needs to be brought down a notch. “you’re so pretty,” gojo heaves, building up the momentum inside you— pushing himself so deep that he brushes your cervix and the springs in the couch start to break. “don’t know what i was thinking lettin’ toji touch you. you’re so pretty, down here too— fuck!” he groans deep, when your fingers leave his mouth. his jaw is sore but he’s too fucked out to care.

the both of you are in a daze, and satoru is so sweet unlike his usual cruel self— blissed out beneath you. “am i pretty enough to die for, puddin’?” you ask him through ragged breaths— throwing your head back as gojo leans forward with a craving for the salt on your skin, licking a trail through the red that stains between your breaths. the lewd sucking bounces off the walls, harmonising with the squelch of your pussy that squirts copious amounts of nectar every time his balls clap against you. somehow, through the maze of your limbs you grab at the discarded gun and point it to the back of your skull— pressing your forehead against your lover’s. “are you scared baby? worried i might kill is both.”

gojo doesn’t fear death.

and of course you are— but gojo can’t find it in himself to answer you just yet; since your body jerks with stimulation and your cunt flutters around him, acting as the tell tale signs that your orgasm is approaching. he surges forward, sinful mouth locking with yours in a slow kiss— teeth and tongue clashing, his canines sinking into your lower lip enough to draw blood.

“angel… please,” gojo’s hips stutter, his heart rate skyrocketing, cock white with the creamy ring your pussy froths at the base. “please..” he loses his grip on the switch blade, the frosty feeling metal nestled between your throats, pressed up against vital veins and pressing into your skin just enough to draw more blood.

“c’mon mista ‘g? why so serious? smile a little,” you say hoarsely— forcing the man to grin with your fingers pulling at the corners of his bloody lips. “smile ‘n answer for me, my little joker. would you die for me?” you’re choking out his cock, milking it for dear life and threatening to put a bullet through both of your skulls and satoru gojo’s never been more turned on by it— sprinting towards his high.

he tears up, nodding his head, dropping his weapon to wrap his arms around your waist while pulling you down onto his cock and keeping you there— barely letting you off of it.

“i’d die for you; a million times over.”

and for the last time that night, you pull the trigger.

and again, it’s another blank.

fear and adrenaline sparks at your mind, only heightening the sensitivity of your bodies close to orgasm… and that’s all it takes to throw both of you over the edge, falling a limp mess of blood, cum and spit, smoke and knife wounds in one another’s arms as white flashes behind your eyes. the knots in your stomach snap, sloppy cunt streaming clear with your release as a loud, dirty moan tears in the ridges of your throat. “p-puddin’! s-satoru!” you cry out sinfully, and gojo follows suit, losing his words and all ties to any form of sanity.

“f-fuck angel, gonna cum. gonna finally fucking fill you up, just how you want— gonna be useful.” satoru mumbles, spilling into you as you squirm in his lap during your own comedown. “c-cummin’! fucking hell.” his seed coats your inner walls with thick white, so much of him flooding your womb that he’s forced out of you, smearing the rest of the opaque, viscous seed against your sore and fleshy thighs.

still releasing in spurts, satoru pulls out from your heat— both of you sighing in content while his cum pools in your tiny hole, his tip nudging against the heart on your inner, leaking against it sweetly. “i love you puddin’,” gojo hears you mumble over the static in his brain, your voice drowsy and sweet. “you’re mine, kay? no one else can have me but you.”

and just like you say, every little bit of the man is yours— because no matter who marks who, satoru gojo would put his life on the line for you no matter the situation.

it was his innate will, part and parcel of his obsession with you.

for who was the joker, without his harley quinn.

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Forgiven not Forgotten | Part 4

People often wondered whether a person dreamed while comatose. Whether they were aware of time passing.

It was constantly up for debate, some claiming yes, they could hear people, they could see faint shapes behind eyelids that simply refused to open, could hear questions, and sometimes respond with the faintest of movements.

Some claimed visions of torture would torment them, where IV’s, and tubes were placed to save their lives, chains, hooks, and ropes would be instead, every pull on a tube causing pain from a hook, every itch from bed sheet rash intensified like sandpaper rubbing their skin raw, every noise amplified into screams from chambers down the row, until their minds became inescapable torture chambers of their own making.

Eddie Munson was somewhat thankful that his mind, for the first time in his life, seemed quiet.

It wasn’t a torture chamber, or the semi-dark space behind his eyelids, it was a black void, the floor covered with water, or… some kind of liquid, he didn’t know what it was, but if he thought really hard, usually he could conjure something in there and that something wouldn’t be damp, the water wouldn’t touch it.

Be it that couch from Max’s trailer to lounge on, his bedroom, or a lone, solitary picnic table for him to sit upon and ponder life’s great mysteries. If he thought hard enough, he could make any place he knew appear for a time.

Was he dead? He assumed he should be, given his spectacular final act… but something about the void felt… purgatorial.

Not quite the pearly gates he never expected to get within an mile of, not quite the burning pits of Hell people assumed he’d somehow claim a throne in, but a middle ground. The waiting room between life and death. Limbo, Purgatory, not the up, or the down, but the middle where the powers that be left you until they could determine your fate.

Eddie liked conjuring his bedroom.

It was pretty accurate too!

He had his little fidget toys, he had his baby, which honestly sounded a little funky in the void space, but hey, he could practice things in there! He had his yoyo, was getting pretty good at the rock the baby trick, he had that basketball that he’d stolen from the gymnasium on a dare. He had his handcuffs from that time Hopper had forgotten to link his cuffs to anything, and just allowed him to bolt into the woods to figure out the cuffs somewhere else, he had his notebooks to scribble in.

Although nothing he scribbled ever actually stuck around.

He didn’t like looking in the mirror. The mirror… it felt. Wrong somehow. He couldn’t quite place why it felt wrong. The image looking back at him. It was him, but… it was wrong. Didn’t know how to explain it. Like he was staring into the face of something else wearing his skin, something else standing in a place somewhere else, even though it did look like him, it did look like his room. It felt wrong.

That was really the only thing that felt wrong in his void. The mirror. It was easy to ignore.

Most things were easy to ignore there. Like the strange passing of time. If time actually passed. Eddie had no idea, given his scribbles never stuck around he figured time was pretty much set in stone where he was, it didn’t pass. It didn’t matter really. Not much mattered. He was dead after all right? He’d gone lights out, and frankly had he any choice in his way to go? He’d have probably picked the one he went with.

He just wished it wouldn’t have dealt a crushing blow of trauma to the boy who’d quickly wormed his way into Eddie’s cold, cynical heart. He should apologise for that. Maybe in his next life, or maybe when the powers that be figured out where to drop his ass, he could get one of whoever shared the eternity, to pass on a message for him.

Like some kind of supernatural game of Broken Telephone.

Dustin had a friend with superpowers right? Or at least she’d had superpowers at one point, playing Broken Telephone from the great beyond couldn’t be that farfetched right?

God he was tired. Which was new. His limbs felt… heavy. Which was funny because he’d honestly forgot what his limbs were supposed to feel like. But all of a sudden, while sprawled out on his bed, he just felt… heavy. Eyelids drooped shut, breathing slowed, weighted down, he could hear the faintest beep, repeating, over and over again, it’d never been in his void before but—

It was fine. He could… he could handle a beep in his void. His void that seemed to grow a warmer shade of brown, details of his bedroom blowing away like wisps of smoke on a gentle breeze

Figures moved across his warm brown void, it wasn’t even a void anymore though if he were honest. It felt impossibly small. More just a space. A space behind his eyelids. Eyelids which struggled to open but seemed to want to.

Maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe he was and this was just the process of waking up in the afterlife. Who knew. Not him. He’d been stuck in a void for… a few weeks maybe? Few days?

Probably a couple of days.

“—e’s coming back… heart rate is steady, vitals seem normal, Mr. Munson, can you hear us?”

“Mnnhhh” oh cool, his voice! There was a crack in his brown space, a crack that looked blurry, like looking through water, through tears, and sleep trapped in thick eyelashes, he tried to lift a hand to clear his eyes but found it locked down, trapped by something he couldn’t see.

“Get those damn things off my client this instant.” That was a voice he didn’t recognise.

“It’s a precaution.”

“Against what exactly? Please, in your infinite wisdom, officer, tell me what exactly this semi-lucid young man could ACTUALLY do to you in his current state? What? Are you scared that he’ll wiggle a pinkie at you? You’re grown men, act like it for heavens sake.” A different voice, feminine, commanding, didn’t recognise it though, respected it a little, but he didn’t recognise it.

“Mom… Officer, please… just take the handcuffs off of him, he didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, knowing him he’d open all the windows in the house just to waft the damn thing out” Oh. Oh now that—That voice. He recognised that voice. The weight on his wrist seemed to vanish. Awesome.

“Oh now… I must be dead” his voice, sure, but awfully croaky, like he’d smoked a full six pack every five hours for a month. “Although how I went up I dunno…” didn’t hurt to speak but… it felt weird.

“Munson? The hell are you—”

“Pretty sure that could only be the voice of an angel.”

“He’s… very medicated.” the first voice seemed hesitant to speak, Eddie assumed doctor.

“Hiiiigh as a kite” he managed to croak out with a crackly chuckle that cut short with a grunt and a pained wince. He preferred his void. He didn’t hurt in his void.

“Jesus Christ, Munson.” His favourite voice was back! “Doc can we get some kind of wipes or something here?” Moments later, the gentle touch of large, rough hands on his cheek had that funny little heart monitor pick up its pace. It largely went ignored, although the silence while it went wild was pretty condemning. “Calm down, I’m just wiping your face.”

Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t say it. Dooon’t—“sponge bath from Steeeeeeve Harrington, what a thing to wake up to.” Dammit.

“Maybe we should—" another man’s voice he didn’t recognise.

“Don’t even think about leave me alone with this.”

“Awww” that hand gently whapped his face, it didn’t hurt, just served to shut him up. Weird that it didn’t hurt though, he was pretty sure he’d been bitten on his face, a tap should hurt even if he was high.

“Don’t aww me, you did this shit to yourself. I told you, what the fuck did I tell you, Eddie? Don’t be a hero, don’t be a goddamn hero, and what do you do?” Steve angrily, yet still somehow gently, wiping the gunk away from his eyes as he spoke like some kind of vexed mother hen.

“…”

“That’s right, you got yourself ate. What. What REASON? What could you have POSSIBLY—”

“Would have gotten us both if I hadn’t. They came in… came in through the vents in my room… if I hadn’t—hadn’t drawn em out—Dustin was right there, man… they’d have come through the door. It was me or both of us. Shit—M’sorry Steve… is… is he okay? He hurt his ankle, was limping I think… is he—” oh hey light, everything coming back so quickly as his eyes were cleared up, the light was a lot, but not enough to detract from Steve’s face right there and— “Where’s all your hair gone? I swear you had it last time I saw you… Max! Where’s Max? Did—is she..?”

“Dustin’s fine. Max is fine. Doctors say they think she’s gonna wake up soon. Eddie… what do you remember?”

“…Most metal concert that the world never saw, evil bat tornado. Then… pretty sure I died. I mean. I did right? There’s no ifs or buts there, I kicked the bucket, hopped off this mortal coil, one with the wiiin—”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry. Uhm… yeah, not much, Harrington, sorry to say memories kinda end after death. Not that I was ever a believer of the pearly gates but—would have been nice to be proven wrong.” He remembered the void. Remembered every waking second of the void, but… with so many people around him, he wasn’t about to mention the void. “Why, should I be remembering something?”

“…No. No this… this is better. This is proof enough.” Steve turned to the soldiers in the room, right at the back where Eddie hadn’t looked. Not the police who looked cramped and uncomfortable. The soldiers standing rigid in the back, eyeing the bed and its occupant with suspicion. One standing in front of the others, stoic, his uniform adorned with the medals of rank. “You lot hear that? That’s proof enough, right?”

“…For now.” The one in front spoke “We’ll be keeping an eye on you all though, as a precaution.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, his expression one of pure hatred, one that looked so foreign on his face to Eddie, yet… it seemed so at home there now, it became it so easily. “You’d better believe we’ll be doing the same to you too, sir.” The soldiers left, the front man first, then the other two followed stiffly, and Steve relaxed, expression softening, he released a soft breath through his nose, then turned back to Eddie.

Eddie who found the silence that followed just suffocating enough to come to an unsurprising conclusion. Something that should have been obvious from the clues around him but yet he still had to ask about.

“…I wasn’t just out for a few days. Was I?”

Part 6

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

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whatajezebelle · 1 month

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The Woods

Suguru x F!Reader

Mature Content

Y/N has taken a break from dating for a while but questions that decision when she meets Suguru on a camping trip with her friends.

(A/N: I will adjust tags as I go. There will be smut, though. This is my first story in a long time so let me know what you think!)

Chapter 1

Nature getaway

You flop onto your temporary bed for the next couple of weeks and look at the spectacular view of the forest from the large windows of your room. You were lucky enough to beat traffic so you got there before your friends did. Part of you is anxious about this trip but after blowing off every invite for the past half a year, you couldn't avoid your friends any longer. Well, you could but it was likely that they'd break down the door to your apartment and kidnap you. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment. When you open them back up it's clear a moment turned into a couple of hours. The sun was beginning to set and you could hear your friends making their way through the door. Since you have the only room on the bottom floor it ensures that at the very least early mornings will be quiet and to yourself. The nights not so much but you're kind of nocturnal anyway so that doesn't matter much. You walk out and one drops their stuff to run to you for a bear hug. The other holds onto her stuff with a smile.

“Y/N! I'm so happy you decided to come!” Utahime wraps you in a hug with a huge smile on her face. She's been the most adamant that you come with them for this trip.

“Yeah, I figured some time with friends out in nature couldn't hurt.” You hug her back and give her a small smile.

“You getting enough sleep kid? Ieiri asks, her voice a lot more calm. She still has her things in hand as she maneuvers through the living room of the admittedly spacious cabin. She's slowly inching her way to the stairs as if she doesn't want to get caught.

“Um,, maybe but what exactly are you doing?” She keeps moving as you speak. “Also don't call me kid, we're the same age.” you grumble under your breath.

“What do you mean? No clue what you're talking about.” Utahime is quicker to figure it out than you are.

“Don't you dare! I told you I'm taking that back room!” Utahime lets go of you, almost pushing you over, and rushes to grab her stuff as Ieiri sprints off.

They race and fight each other for a while. You watch for a bit, slightly amused. They fight more than anyone I've ever seen and it's clear that it's cause they like each other and this is the only way they can get that close without “making things weird”. After a bit you get bored so you head outside. There's more stuff in the SUV they drove up in so you go to grab as much as you can. It's likely that they will be too tired to do much after their death match and you wouldn't dare let any food go to waste.

The air is so clear out here. You take a moment to appreciate the sounds and the way the light hits the trees as it slowly begins it's daily descent. Filled with a type of peace you haven't felt in a really long time. You close your eyes tilting your head back to better feel the wind on your face and take a deep breath. The peace ended very quickly when you hear footsteps coming from behind you.

“Can I help you?” You turn and speak with clear irritation in your voice and your meanest mug when the steps are a movement away from being too close for comfort. You turn to see a man with long dark hair and warm but analytical eyes. He smiles softly, as if to calm you and you realize just how handsome he is. A different version of you would have been excited to see someone as beautiful as him but current you has dealt with the consequences of that version of you's bad decision making.

“Hey, I was just checking on all of you. I'm in the cabin next door with some friends so feel free to come by later. We're cooking and there's more than enough for everyone.” he looks at you as if he's staring into your soul. His eyes moving across your face really taking in your features.

“And you are...?” He's speaking as if you should know already but you can confidently say that you've never seen him before.

“Suguru! Hey, dummy.” Ieiri calls out to him. She's empty handed and her hair is messy from the brawl.

“Why do you look like you've been fighting the squirrels, Shoko?” He speaks marginally louder than he was to you a moment ago and you can hear the bass in his voice more clearly. Like a rumble in his chest. You try to ignore the goosebumps that pop up because of it.

“Utahime and I had a little disagreement about who deserved the best room in the cabin. I won of course.” she smiles smug.

“It's because you cheated! There's no biting and you know that!” Utahime comes storming out of the door looking twice as disheveled.

This triggers more bickering from them and you sigh as you realize this may be the entire trip. You hope somebody brought some pre-rolls cause you don't think this is an experience that sobriety can hold up to.

For a moment, you forget there was someone behind you so you jump when you hear his low chuckle. You turn to him and he's a bit closer than before. You're now on high alert, not because of fear or danger but because he smells so fucking good. You start to feel his body heat rolling off of him, he gets so close. Maybe a normal person who gets laid on a regular basis wouldn't notice that but you've been... touch starved, for lack of a better word. You joined team celibacy a long time ago, too long by the looks of things, so, obviously proximity to a man that has innate sex appeal coming out of every pore is enough to make you question your life choices.

“You're the friend that Ieiri told me about,” You look over at him as you speak. He moves to stand next to you to spectate the show your friends are putting on. He looks just as used to it as you are. The realization of just how tall he is hits you as you have to look up higher than expected with him so close to see his face. ”The one that owns the property here? Thanks for letting us stay. Or rather allowing me to come since you don't know me.”

You avoid looking at his face but since he isn't looking at yours, more interested in the fighting happening in front of you both, you take the opportunity to look him over. Just glancing you wouldn't notice the very defined muscles he's got going under that baggy shirt but after looking for more than a second it's very clear he spends a lot of time in the gym. He's folded his arms which showcases just how nice his biceps are. You rake your eyes further up and notice how strong his shoulders look and how strong his jawline is. You take subtle steadying breaths and pull your eyes away before you're caught.

“I am and it's not a problem. Really. Any friend of Shoko and Utahime is a friend of mine. You're Y/N, right?” He's now looking at your face but by that time you've moved your focus back on the argument so hopefully he hadn't noticed the salivating.

“I am. Nice to meet you.” You awkwardly nod your head toward him still avoiding eye contact. Your chest fills with that familiar feeling of anxiety. From what you've heard from your friends over the last couple of years, Suguru is pretty laid back about people but it's always nerve wracking to talk to someone new. Not everyone understands or cares for how socially awkward you can be.

The bickering turns into another all out brawl and this time you feel the need to step in. You trudge your way over and try to avoid the swinging arms and kicking feet. Finally you're able to separate the two. Grabbing the collars of their shirts like you're scruffing two cats.

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you two? Either fuck or leave other each alone. The childish flirting is driving me insane.” You scold them and set them down. “Can you behave? Please? For me?”

They cross their arms and pout refusing to look at each other like children and grumble. Two others have joined the spectacle, walking in from the trail that presumably connects the two cabins although you can't see the other one through the thicket of trees from here.

They're all three standing together now and your heart is pounding out of your chest. How the fuck do they all look like that? Birds of a feather really do flock together, even the pretty ones. The blonde one has strong masculine features and a stoic demeanor. He looks friendly enough but definitely is more of a no nonsense type of person. His eyes dark and vigilant, the crinkle they form when he smiles shows that he's kind despite how he holds himself. The white haired one has softer features but not in an androgynous why, more like in a pretty boy way. His eyes are the most vibrant blue you have ever seen and they're so warm it's almost like they're liquid encased in his eye. He looks like he ain't shit if you're being honest but damn is he nice to look at.

They're trying to hide their laugh at the interaction going on in front of them. You can't really blame them if you were the one watching it'd be pretty funny to you, too.

“Utahime, you cryin?” The white haired one says, not at all trying to hide his laughter. In fact, he points as he laughs.

“Fuck you, Gojo!” She yells at him. You raise your eyebrows, she normally keeps it together with anyone other than Ieiri and you're pretty sure that's because she has a crush on her. You archive that for later.

“Too late, babe, you already did.” She sputters and gets up grabbing stuff from the passenger seat of their car and stomping her way inside. Your jaw drops and eyebrows raise til they're damn near in your hairline. No need to ponder on it later, suspicion confirmed.

“Well damn.” You say as you hold your hands up as if in surrender and move out of her way as she passes you. You hope that coming here was the right choice, cause so far it's looking like a bunch of temptation and drama. Is it kinda funny drama? Yes. But still drama nonetheless.

“Nice going, Idiot.” Suguru says to him eyebrow raised in irritation and his mouth set in disappointment.

“What? She did!” The blonde one smacks him upside the head. He doesn't say anything he just gives what could be best described as the disappointed dad look.

“Could you at least try to behave yourself in front of our new friend?” Suguru turns to you as Shoko gets up from the ground and dusts herself off before wrapping an arm around you. “Satoru,” he turns to the white haired one, “Kento,” Then to the blonde, “This is Y/N.”

All eyes are on you and you want to crawl back to your room and hide under the blankets until everyone went away.

“Hey... what's crackin'?” You say uncomfortably and avoid eye contact with any of them.

“You're pretty.” Satoru purrs at you with a very charming smile, his eyes roaming everywhere but your face. And if you were still in a hoe phase that would have had the kitty meowing but, unfortunately, you are not so it just irritates you.

“I'm aware.” you say deadpan with your patented bitch face. You know it's rude but it's the most likely to get him to back off the quickest.

“Ohhhhh, feisty, I like that.” he smiles even bigger. You scoff and roll your eyes. Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed with his friends antics.

“Please don't mind him, it's nice to meet you.” Kento comes up and shakes your hand with a firm but gentle grasp.

“And you.” You smile at him genuinely unbothered by his presence. “Hopefully, I'm not being too rude but I have a feeling if I don't finish emptying out this car it won't get done tonight.

“Hey, I'd help!” Ieiri sounds off next you. You fix her with a “bitch please” look. She laughs it off. “Yeah, you're right.” She lets go of your shoulder and grabs the rest of her stuff before going inside.

“Let us help.” Suguru is already grabbing things and handing them to the others before you can say anything. They grab the heaviest of it and go inside to help put things away.

----------

It's completely dark outside and the weather has cooled just the tiniest bit. Enough that having a bonfire isn't an entirely ridiculous idea. Watching Kento and Suguru chase down Satoru to take the lighter fluid and matches away is nothing short of comedy gold.

“Yeah, get him!” Utahime yells with her full chest. She's five seconds away from an evil cackle when the two more responsible men tackle Satoru.

Satoru pouts but accepts his defeat. He goes to mess around with the music instead. Suguru prepares the fire pit and you watch his every move in silence. Your eyes are so glued to him that you don't notice your friends sharing a look and looking back at you.

“Take a picture it might last longer.”

“What are you talking about, Uta?” You sound guilty as fuck as you not so subtly tear your eyes away and look at anything else when Suguru makes eye contact with you hearing Utahime tease you.

“Oh that was real smooth. Not noticeable at all.” Ieiri chuckles next to you.

You give them the finger, “Sit on it and rotate, bitch.” This only makes them cackle even louder.

“What's so funny, ladies?” Suguru makes his way over. As you were getting teased he managed to get the fire going. He stops a couple of feet in front you.

“We were just talking about Y'N's possible interest in photography. We think she might have a good eye for it.”

Your head slowly turns to Ieiri and while your mouth says nothing your face says everything. Like, 'Bitch, please shut the fuck up, for the love of all that is holy.' for example.

He smiles again, dimples prominently on display and it all but destroys you, “Oh yeah? I'd love to see what's caught your eye.”

Your face goes hot and you pop up of the chair you were inhabiting and slowly make your way inside their cabin to get a drink. Alcohol will be needed for tonight, that much is clear.

“Yeah, I'll definitely let you know. Ya know, if I uh do that...” You bump into another one of the chairs and Suguru raising his eyebrows and tries to hide his smile. He clearly wants to laugh, finding your awkwardness cute.

“I'll hold you to that then.”

You spend dinner time avoiding participating in conversation. You don't want to stumble into any anxiety inducing conversation and the best way to do that is to not speak. You feel Suguru's eyes on you all throughout the meal but to be fair Satoru isn't doing much better. Luckily you're sat next to Kento and he is much quieter and doesn't feel the need to bore a hole in your head with his eyes. There's a level of camaraderie you feel with him purely because he lets you be but is still considerate and nice to you. You'll do your best to stick by his side during activities on this trip.

After everyone eats, there's a group effort to clear the table and make sure dishes are clean. Since there are six of you it takes no time at all. Everyone grabs their preferred drink and heads closer to the bonfire. Satoru is self assigned DJ and he's actually pretty good. Ieiri convinces Kento to dance and Utahime and Suguru join.

You sit near the fire on one of the nice outdoor sofas set to the side of the guy's cabin. You watch everyone talk, dance and reminisce on old times. Pre-rolls were brought along, and it looks like there's enough to supply a whole compound so you won't run out. You don't smoke as much as everyone else so that you could find your way back you the cabin without an accidental adventure into the woods. Knowing your dumb ass you'd get too caught up watching the stars to pay attention to where you're going.

You nurse the drink that Ieiri mixed for you. It mostly tastes like juice but you know there is a ton of tequila in it since you watched her make it. You're lost in thought staring into the fire when someone sits next to you, close enough to touch.

“You don't seem like you're having very much fun.” You look over to Suguru and he's watching you with intense eyes. That warm sweet smile on his face.

“I am, I just... sometimes I'm quiet. I like just being around the fun.” You avoid eye contact still, staring into your cup like it has the secrets of the universe in it. You may need a refill, you notice your cup is almost empty. Which makes you realize you're a bit tipsy. It's not bad, it actually helps a bit.

“A true introvert then, hm? Nothing wrong with that. So if this isn't really your thing, what is?” His voice is low and gentle. You look over at him making full eye contact possibly for the first time and see genuine interest in his dark eyes. It takes you a little off guard.

“Uh, well, I mostly stay home and work with computers. I like taking them apart and putting them together. I also game a lot.” You realize how shy you're acting. Like a school girl with a crush. Get it the fuck together, you tell yourself.

“Oh? Gamer girl. Nice. What you play COD or something?” his smile turns into a toothy grin.

“No, I'm not built for that community. I'd get banned for talking shit all the time. I like a lot of single player horror and sometimes I'll dabble in Valo, or League or Genshin, depending on my mood. I also like cozy games” Your body starts to relax as you talk about something familiar to you. You turn your body so your facing him and lean against the back of the sofa with your head resting on your hand. He mimics your body language and leans in a bit closer to hear you better. If there wasn't alcohol in your system you'd be an anxious mess at the proximity but this way you're able to relax a bit more.

“I don't think I could see you saying something so bad that you'd get banned for it.” his voice goes a bit lower as he speaks to you. “You seem too sweet for that. Maybe just a little shy.”

“Yeah, I could see that. I've been nothing but awkward today. But honestly...I'm kind of a bitch.” he laughs at this and you're wrapped up in the sound. “No, seriously. I can handle myself if I need to and I'm way less shy online than I am in person.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. I almost forgot about how you handled Satoru earlier. That was great by the way I don't think he's ever been rejected like that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't want him thinking he even remotely had a chance.” You wrinkle your nose in disgust and take that moment to sip from your cup. If there were a Redder flag they'd have to rename the color.

“And what about me? Do I have a chance?” thankfully you don't sputter and choke on your drink but your eyes go big as you look at him.

“Huh?” obviously, you heard him but you didn't know what else to say. He laughs and bites his lip before he answers when it's clear you needed him to repeat himself.

“Do I have a chance?” he repeats, “I mean you haven't told me to fuck off, yet.” He looks deeply into your eyes. It feels like he can see every part of you and he wants to see more. Greedy for your attention. It's in this moment you realize just how close your bodies are. That his hand has been resting on your thigh for a while now. His thumb rubbing circles into your exposed skin due to the shorts you're wearing.

“Oh well... I, uh-”

“Y/N! Come dance with us! You haven't gotten up since we ate. Come come!” Utahime calls for you and you have never been so grateful for her friendship in all your life.

“Yep! Coming!” You yell back and get up without saying a word to him.

“Not yet, you aren't.” you hear him mutter as you walk away. You choose not to acknowledge the statement, going with the calm, cool, and collected facade but internally you're screaming, crying and falling to your knees.

There's generic pop music playing along with a few club edits in the playlist. You take another shot to loosen up just a bit more and join your friends on the makeshift dance floor. You wouldn't consider your self a dancer but you aren't bad. You sway your hips to the music and get lost in it for a few songs before you feel eyes on you. You look over and notice Suguru still sitting on his own on the sofa, watching you over his cup as he takes a sip. His eyes shift up from your ass, he must of realized he was caught. He smirks and licks his lips. You turn away and keep dancing for a while.

“What's up with you two?” Ieiri asks from next to you as you both keep moving.

“What do you mean?”

“He's been eye fucking you all day and you aren't any better. If you weren't into it you would have cursed him out already.”

“What? He's not paying attention to me like that.” You don't know if you're trying to convince your self or her. But either way it's not working.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that and maybe it'll be more believable one day.” She lets you be and focuses on dancing instead, opting to fluster Utahime by putting her hands on her hips. You pay no mind to them and their flirting. Hopefully, they get together on this trip and quit acting like tsundere weirdos.

You feel light and enjoy the feeling of the heat coming from the fire and the burn in your muscles from moving for so long. There's a small smile on your face as you decide to call it quits for the night. Everyone groaned when you told them that you were going to call it a night and asked you to stay but you're tipsy and tired.

“Let me walk you back.” Suguru pops up next to you from what feels like no where. You look at him and then the dark trail that leads back to the cabin and back at him. You're not so drunk that you think you'd get lost but it's dark and a little scary to walk alone.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

You walk in silence for the first few steps. The further away you get the more the sound and light fades until eventually the trail is only illuminated by moonlight.

“So...” He starts but doesn't finish.

“So?”

He licks his lips and shakes his head almost like he's decided against speaking his original mind.

“The cabin you're in doesn't have a computer but mine does. If you want a break from everyone while we're here you can use it.”

“That's nice of you. Thank you.” the shyness comes back now that you're alone. “Why do you need a computer out here? Isn't the point to get away and focus on nature?”

“Satoru, Kento and I run a security agency and sometimes if there's an emergency that needs to be handled by one of us, we have to use it.”

“Are you sure you want me using it for gaming then? Seems like a pretty important piece of equipment for you.” he huffs a small laugh in response.

“It's fine, I promise.” he reassures you.

The rest of the walk is in silence. It's not awkward but there is a tension that makes you a bit nervous. But then again what doesn't.

“Thank you for walking me. I probably would have been fine but I still appreciate the company.” He grabs your wrist and turns you to stand facing him once you get close to the Cabin.

He slowly moves closer and lets go of your wrist to give you the option to move away if you'd like. His forehead rests on yours and your breath mingles with his.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You pause, speechless. You decide not to think and nod yes.

He closes the gap, putting one hand on your hip while the other cups your face. The kiss is gentle, his lips soft as they move against yours. It starts pretty chaste but as it continues and the heat in your tummy grows the kiss gets sloppier. He bites your lip which makes you gasp and he takes that moment to run his tongue over yours. He moans into you, which makes your whimper back. He uses his hand on your hip to pull your body flush to his, he gets a good squeeze. Enjoying how curvy you are his hand moves to grip your ass. His mouth moves to your jaw then right below your ear and slowly down your neck. Your eyes roll back feeling the small nips against your favorite spot and you wonder how he knew you would like that so much. He lowers himself a bit grabbing your thighs from the back and using the grip to separate your legs and pick you up, your legs instinctually wrap around him as he gently pushes your back into the front door of the cabin and grinds into you. With that movement, you feel exactly how big and how hard he is and it surprises you so much that it gives you a moment of clarity. Your eyes pop open and your breath hitches.

You push against his chest a bit and he immediately lowers you to the ground, removes his hands and detaches.

“Did I do something wrong?” He looks at you brows furrowed with worry.

“No, I just think we should stop there. I don't want things getting too complicated on this trip.”

He bites his kiss swollen lip, a habit you figure he has, and looks you over as he considers your words.

“Of course.” he doesn't seem upset at all, in fact his eyes stay soft and gentle as does his smile. He takes a good step back to make sure you have space and feel safe.

You nod and give him a small smile. You turn and walk into the cabin and he watches to make sure you make it in before he heads back.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut

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chemicalalice · 2 years

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Fic: In Stillness - Kinktober Day 6

Title: In Stillness

Summary: Rhett's rodeo life is loud and fast. He craves stillness.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female!Reader

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing, cockwarming. Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only!

Word count: 1151

AN: I love Rhett. I feel like he is such a great character. He is clearly tough, but I feel like he is so bruised on the inside and desperately trying to keep up a strong front.

You could feel him, deep and hard inside of you. And still.

You were sitting on the couch, knees on either side of his thighs. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you carefully to his chest and your head was tucked up under his chin. The soft and steady rise and fall of your chests as you breathed was the only movement either one of you made as the tv droned on quietly in the background.

Rhett was a bit rough around the edges. The ranching and rodeo lifestyle usually left him bruised and battered. And even though he was always touching you in some way or another when you were out in public together, he didn't talk about his feelings easily. A trait he clearly inherited from him father.

While he may have been on the reserved side the majority of the time, confident that you knew how much he loved you, there were still times when he did let his guards down. Times like this.

Rhett had drawn a bad bull the night before. Had a bad ride. The bull hadn't cleared the chute cleanly, knocking Rhett off balance from the get go and he had been thrown before the 5 second mark. He had landed poorly, his wrist taking the brunt of the fall, and the bullfighter hadn't gotten in between Rhett and the bull fast enough, leaving Rhett to take a blow to the ribs from one of the bull's blunt horns that knocked him back on his ass. The icing on the cake came when the judge claimed there was no contact between the bull and the chute, and Rhett was and denied the re-ride he should have been granted. It left him, understandably, frustrated and angry

Rhett liked to fuck out his frustrations. It gave him the physical outlet he needed to wear himself out to the point where his brain would shut off, to spare him the endless loop of trying to figure out at exactly what second he had gotten things wrong, no matter if it was in bull riding or any other aspect of his life. But more importantly, you came to realize, it was the touch that really grounded him. Rhett craved your touch, the physical reassurance that you where there with him, that you were his. You wouldn't call him touch starved, but it was something close.

So nights like these, when his wrist was braced and his ribs were a spectacular display of black and blue, when his ego was as sore as his body, you gave him what you could.

A small moan escaped your lips as you felt his cock twitch inside of you and your cunt clenched around him in response. You felt like you were hovering on a ledge. He felt so good inside of you, and every small shift you made had the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, causing little sparks of pleasure to flicker in your core. But it wasn't enough to tip you over. Just enough to wind you up, to keep you hanging on the edge.

He had been inside of you for the better part of the hour; hard and still, your body pressed to his, his fingers dragging lazily up and down your spine. If his cock hadn't been buried so deep inside you it wouldn't have even been sexual. But it was, and the tenderness of his touch contrasted so sharply with your urge to move, the urge to cum, that it wound you higher than almost anything else he did to you when you were in bed together.

His voice was rough with need as he squeezed your arms. "Come up here and kiss me," he demanded.

His hand cupped your face, drawing your lips up to his. It was gentle, nothing hurried or heated. You wanted it to be. You wanted to devour the man beneath you. But you wouldn't. You would stay still for him, let him take whatever he wanted from you, however he needed it, even if what he took was nothing at all, only closeness in stillness.

You clenched again and his answering chuckle was shaky, betraying his own need. "I know, baby. You've been so good for me tonight, so patient. I know what you want; what you need. Does that pretty little pussy of mine need to cum? Do you need me fill it up? Shoot my load in deep?" His voice was soft, tender. His words absolute filth.

You nodded slightly, his hands still holding your face. He pressed his lips to yours again before letting go. The hand with the wrist brace fell to your hip while the other snaked down between your bodies, thumb pressing gently to your clit.

You shuddered at the touch. "Stay still for me, baby," he commanded, and began to rotate his thumb in slow circles over you clit. Another clench of your cunt followed and he breathed out a soft 'Jesus' at the sensation. You wetness was leaking out of you, coating both your thighs and his.

Your hands came up to his shoulders, bracing yourself as he continued to rub at your clit. You could feel it building; that sweet wave of pleasure that you had been chasing all night. So close. And Rhett knew it too. Could see it in the way your eyes squeezed closed, could feel it in the trembling of your body and the way you got even wetter around his cock.

"Jesus, Rhett, baby...I'm gonna cum," you gasped, arms sliding around his neck, bringing you closer to him.

You weren't kissing, but the distance between you was so small that when he spoke, his lips brushed against yours. "Do it baby. Cum for me." He pressed his thumb in slightly harder and that was all it took. You moaned lowly, head tilting back as you fell apart on his cock and gushed around him. You vaguely felt him push up in to you, once, twice, in the most barely-there movement before his head dropped to you breasts and you felt him pulse within you, the rhythmic clench of your orgasm the only thing he needed to pull his own from him.

"Goddamn you feel so fucking good," he groaned, pulling you down to grind your soaking cunt onto his cock, relishing every last ounce of pleasure he got from your body as his cock drained. "So fucking good."

You cradled his head against you chest, fingers running gently though his hair as you both came down from it.

"I love you," his voice was barely more than a whisper of air over your breasts. You dropped your cheek to rest on the crown of his head. You would never be able to get enough of this man. Not even if you had a millions lifetimes to live.

"I love you too, Rhett."

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #chemy writes #tppkinktober2022 #kinktober 2022 #fic

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