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#im sure he did something like this back then
reiderwriter · 3 days
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hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)
A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚
Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.
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Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 
“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 
“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 
“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 
“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 
The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 
He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 
“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 
“Turn around.” 
You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 
You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 
“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”
“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”
“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 
Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 
His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 
With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 
“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 
Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 
The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.
“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 
“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 
“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 
“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 
“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”
“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”
The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 
“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 
“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 
“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 
The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 
xxxxx 
A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 
You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 
You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 
“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 
Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 
The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 
A girl could dream. 
“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 
Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 
“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.
“What? Why?” 
“I don't hit women.” 
“And I do? Emily, wha-” 
But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 
Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 
“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 
“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 
“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 
He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 
“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 
You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 
You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 
There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.
“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”
He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 
“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 
“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 
He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 
“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 
“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 
He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 
“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 
You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 
He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 
“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 
“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 
“Y/N, put it down.” 
“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 
“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 
His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 
“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 
“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”
It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 
You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 
Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 
“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 
You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 
“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”
You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 
“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 
His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 
“I can tell.” 
If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 
“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 
He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 
“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 
His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 
Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 
A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 
“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 
“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 
He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 
“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 
The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 
The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 
You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  
Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 
“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 
The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 
“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 
You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 
“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 
“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 
Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 
You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 
As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 
“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 
Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 
But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 
“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 
“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 
The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 
“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 
“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 
Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 
His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 
“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 
“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck
“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 
Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 
“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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rowanswriting · 2 days
Note
ROOOOWWWWWWW
REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???
Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.
Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.
I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED
- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷
Freak Like Me - E.M.
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thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽
Word count- 1.3K
Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!
-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!
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“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.
He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.
You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.
You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.
“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”
You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.
Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.
You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.
He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”
“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.
You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.
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tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles
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honkaimethrail · 2 days
Text
Forms of Affection : Aventurine
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A/N : He's my babygirl fr. I might continue these with other characters too but im not sure. Lemme know what you think
Headcanon where Aventurine likes to share clothes and accessories with his partner. If you're not the same size, you both usually get a bit oversized clothes so it can fit the both of you.
At the early stage of your relationship, there wouldn't be such a thing. Although he might've bought you something you caught a fancy too, you wouldn't be sharing much, clothes would be out of the equation.
However it slowly starts with sharing accessories, having matching bracelets. Aventurine would also lend you his hat as a joke or his coat if you're cold. You did the same.
At some point, the two of you stopped having separate clothing for most of your attires altogether. What's yours was his, and what belonged to his was, in Aventurine's words — "naturally yours. "
There was something so natural about it. Aventurine, waking up to you kissing his face, wearing his night clothes. To which he giggles, and asks for a kiss on the lips, which you happily oblige to while he sneakily uses the chance to pull you back to bed. Or maybe you, seeing Aventurine wearing one of your jackets, coats, even when they didn't quite fit his flamboyant image, but that didn't matter to your lover, who smiles at you fondly.
Maybe it's a not so secret that Aventurine wants to be surrounded by you, be it in any way. He loves you to bits and misses you dearly when he's away from you. It's something that only exists between the two of you in the entire universe, which is why he often finds himself thinking that it might be time for you to share wedding rings too.
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walpu · 1 day
Note
walp walp hear me out
remember that trailblazer scene with firefly and how she just just gets stabby stabbed by the creature (memory zone meme i think)
and + Aventurine having access to the 'real' dreamscape, combine that with bodyguard! reader who will go through hell and back to make sure Aventurine will. Live.
reader follows aven during the entirety of the Penacony quest, including when Black Swan teleports the both of them to the real memory zone. (also, does anyone else feel like bodyguard! reader and Trailblazer would be besties... no, just me?)
now, keep in mind, Aven and reader have a... complicated bond. IPC workers here and there say their dating, the Trailblazer has straightup asked if they would just get a room (you get their vibe, you can go along with the secret assassin! bodyguard! reader req i sent in)
a little bit more insight on their dynamic (again, going with the assassin reader thing, its already known between the two atp, so this can be set after that period), Aven wants to love reader, wants to hold them close, and wants their affection, but dammit, he just cant bring himself to. Not when he's sure he'll just hurt everyone that comes close to him (his sister, cough cough)
and reader has the same mindset, they love Aven, as a boss, as that annoying but endearing friend, and perhaps as more. But they have blood, the lives of people that they've unlawfully taken, not to mention, they are 100% sure Aven would never love a person who killed just for monetary income.
now, here's where the real show starts. There's also another assassin (seriously, Duke Inferno should save his manpower) following reader and Aven. Safe to say, only one is making it out alive. How the assassin followed the two of them? No fucking clue, but somehow it does.
After i assume beating the living shit out of hordes of memory zone monsters, the assassin appears, and just when Aventurine's unsuspecting?? Boom, goes in for the kill.
Yeah, too bad. Aven's not dying. But reader is! Yeah, in a act of (cliche) protection, reader allowed themselves to be the one to suffer from the attack. (Bonus if they get decapitated, or just stabbed like how Trailblazer was by Cocolia). Aven will never forget the way that he just- watched reader's body fall, the light just gone from their eyes.
Anyways, he doesn't even get to hold their body. You just- poof into bubbles like Firefly did. The last thing he has left of his beloved bodyguard? Just a simple red earring, matching the one he wore. Nothing left.
Okay, im also going to cope here that the whole shitshow with Aven and Acheron did not happen, he returns to the room that reader had, and he just... stands there. He takes in the way that half of the room was messy, half of it was untouched. So much like them, unpredictable and just had a touch of the weirdness he loved so damn much.
(Bonus if you want a happy scenario, reader's alive and well, afterall, dying in the dreamscape doesn't kill anyone. Reader is probably smiling very awkwardly while they stare at a teary eyed Aventurine, then they make out /hj)
yay another rant, i had this idea for days, the decapitation part may or may not have been plaguing me (should i be concerned), anyways, thanks for listening to my word vomit, stay safe and stay healthy <33
feel like falling on my knees and begging to forgive me for taking so long this spring doesn't let me breath istg. I've got this request before 2.1 and only got to it now that's why Aven is ghosting me.
bodyguard!reader "dying" in the dreamscape to protect Aventurine
sort of a sequel to this but can be read as a separate work as well, the main thing you need to know is that reader was originally an assassin sent by Duke Inferno but they've changed their mind and stayed by Aven's side
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notes - gn!reader, angst, unestablished relationship, no beta
You both knew the trip to Penacony would be difficult. You, in particular, knew that something big and very sinister is coming, judging by the way Aventurine danced around the subject, not giving you full information.
You may not know all the details of Aventurine's plan but you know him well enough to realize that he's planning on doing something extremely reckless and dangerous.
So you do your best to protect him. To shiels him from any possible danger, to keep him within your reach.
Of course Aventirune notices. How can he not notice when he already keeps his eye on you most of the time anyway. And just as you're trying to look out for him, he wants to looks out for you.
This mission already could be considered suicidal and he doesn't want you to be caught in this. Better to keep you in the dark, away from it.
Yet he can't help but selfishly enjoy your attention, your tenderness. You go out of your ways to make sure he's fine and he feels so undeserving of it. How can you be so kind when he's keeping so much from you?
You've seen him at his worst and you've stayed. You've proven so many times that you care for him not because it's just your job, not because of his money or status but because it's him.
He still struggles to believe in it sometimes. When he feels doubtful , he rubs his cheek against your shoulder in a playful cat-like manner and watches your reaction. Amusement you're trying to hide. Adoration you can't hide.
How can he doubt you? You're the one who should be doubting him.
He wants to melt into you, to be even closer than the two of you already are, but how can he love you without putting you in danger? Without draining your luck, without cursing you?
Sometimes he sees the same struggles in your eyes. When you carefully trace his face with the tips of your gloved fingers, your gaze sometimes lowers and you pull your hand away, as if you're ashamed.
But of what, of what? The blood on your hands? He has it too!
He wants to tell you this, to hold you tight, to never ever let go. The wish is so primal that everyone else can see. The memokeeper giving him a knowing smile as soon as she sees you two together, the masked fool taunting him about the only one willing to listen to him being his loyal dog ("though, judging by the way you look at them, little peacock, you're the one on the leash here~" she says. It feels like even a lower blow than the comments about his past. At least he expected those, but being taunted about his obvious feelings for is new), mx. Stellaron asking you two to get a room with a deadpun expression.
The worst one is the doctor though. Asking Aventurine to focus on the mission, then, in a softer tone, suggesting to tell you more about the plan. "It's foolish to keep it from your most trusted person, gambler. In the end, it may hurt them even more than your obsessive concerns".
If Ratio of all people gives you relationship advice you're doing soooo bad.
Yet Aventurine can't bring himself to listen to his words. He wants you safe and well, and he's sure (he's not sure) he's doing the right thing.
And yet he's wrong. He can't shield you, he can't. One of the richest people in the IPC, one of the Ten Stonehearts, the blessed one, yet he can't protect the one he loves no matter how much he tries. He's cursed, doomed, isn't he?
Damned Duke Inferno. He's dead, annihilated, and yet, somehow, one of his wretched dogs, his sneaky little assassin, finds you two in the depths of the memory zone. Such dedication to the cause!
There are two gunshots. Inferno's little rat and you strike at the same time. Them, aiming at Aventurine, and you, aiming at them. Only one bullet reaches it's target though.
It all happens so fast. You react immediately, covering Aventurine with your body. You move instinctively at the same second you shoot.
When their bullet hits you, you don't even feel it. Maybe because it's still a dreamland? The pain just won't come even though your back feels like it's on fire. You don't understand it yet but your body already starts disappearing.
All you can focus on is Aventurine's wide shocked eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes.
You smile weakly at him. That's all he can see before you're gone. He doesn't even have time to reach out to you, to hold you. As if he ever had the privilege of holding his loved ones in their final moments.
You just poof into the blue bubbles.
He rushes into the real world, in your room, praying to any deity that may here for you to be alive and well. It was a dream, not a real world. You can't die in a dream, not really. You weren't even killed by the memory zone meme, surely you're fine!
Yet you're not. You're not here, not anywhere in the hotel. You're truly gone.
He feels everything and nothing at the same time.
Of course, of course, of course he wasn't able to protect you!
How lucky he is, he has avoided death once again! His beloved died to protect him but he has survived! He's so blessed, truly, so blessed!
He finds himself on his knees, on the verge of hysterical laughter. The only thing you left behind is a small red earring he has gifted. And he clatches it so tightly his hand bleeds. Perhaps the pain is the only thing keeping him sane at this moment.
It feels like a cruel joke. It doesn't feel real, it shouldn't be real.
Wait... That's it! It isn't real. It's impossible to die in a dream! It was his theory all along, after all. It must be true. You just can't be dead, you can't, not you too.
His plan hasn't changed, he tells Ratio when he comes to check on Aventurine. He just needs to reach the real Penacony. To reach it and to find you there. You're strong and brave and so wonderful. You're out there somewhere, he just needs to help you to get back to the real world.
He holds into that idea like a madman. It doesn't matter how dangerous it is. It never did, to be honest. But now it's like he can't focus on anything else.
He hasn't feel so despaired in years. He just needs to find you, everything else is meaningless.
So when it's time for the final act, he gets on stage, fears not and doesn't look back.
He still holds his hand behind his back though. Clutching your earrings for dear life.
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literaila · 18 hours
Note
what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭
“satoru,” you croak out.
your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.
you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.
“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”
“can you come home?”
“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”
“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.
“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”
“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”
your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.
but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.
there’s a pause.
you can hear satoru breathing.
“what?”
“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.
“what hospital?”
“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”
“okay.”
“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”
“are you driving?”
“yeah.”
“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”
your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”
“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”
“okay. i—i’m sorry.”
“why are you sorry?”
you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“
“you think this is you fault?”
“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“
“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“
“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”
“you can’t control when something bad happens.”
“i can’t—she’s—“
“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”
“you don’t know that.”
“i do.”
“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.
“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”
“why are you sorry?”
“i don’t know,” he whispers again.
“is ijichi there yet?”
“almost.”
“okay.”
“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”
“okay.”
“are you still driving, baby?”
“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”
“want me to stay on the phone?”
“yes.”
“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.
hoping that maybe it’ll come true.
though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.
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mins-fins · 3 days
Text
where do we go
&&. conversations between lung destroyi— i mean, smoking cigarettes.
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pairing: lee donghyuck x gn!reader
genre: some weird thing idk..
warnings: smoking, readers got some bad friends
word count: 0.9k
notes: can you believe this.. TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY!??? okay my first hyuck post today was a timestamp i posted while on the bus home but hey!! two posts in one day is crazy.. also both of them being for haechan, i don't like him guys i just had two good ideas containing smoking and he was the first idol that came to mind 😖 he's the loml fr 💗 but no no no im not a sunflower dont get it wrong 🙏 also i dont smoke, based this off shit i've read and observing all the adults in my life who smoke around me 🙁 dont crucify me for not being accurate #smokers
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"you have a lighter?"
the question strikes you as odd. you snap out of your street lamp gazing and turn to the stranger beside you. you blink a few times, as if you couldn't fathom why such a question would be asked. the stranger waits patiently for your answer, mouth seemingly zipped shut after asking the question. "what?" you inquire like an idiot.
"a lighter" he reiterates, raising an inflammable joint tucked between his index and middle finger in the air. you allow for your mouth to form a small 'o', and you clear your throat, suddenly feeling flustered. he snickers lightly, and your almost afraid that he's laughing at you. "you don't smoke?"
you smile weakly, just sighing as you begin rummaging through your pockets. "no it's just.. today's not my day, i'm upset about some shit that's all" when you finally find the lighter you remember you placed into your pocket, you passed it over to him with a throw. "here".
the stranger doesn't seem to be that interested in your lighter anymore, his face coloring in concern at the sound of you being upset. you aren't sure why he even cares, there's no reason for him to. you ignore his look of concern, just rubbing your eyes. "oh? what's upsetting you so much?"
you allow for yourself to snort at the words. "it's nothing, really, i don't want to burden you with my issues" you dismiss him with a wave, watching as he lights the cigarette and takes his first drag of the joint.
"no please" he responds, blowing the smoke out through his lips. he tosses you back your lighter. "you gave me your lighter, so i'll sit here and listen to you vent your issues" he places a prideful hand on his chest, as if you were supposed to celebrate him for that or something.
"wow, should i clap for you to honor such generosity?"
"well you don't have to, but i would love if you did" oh! so this guy is a comedian, your tongue pokes through your inner cheek as you let out another silent sigh, straightening your posture in your seat. your train isn't coming for another ten minutes.
"oh lord where are my manners? lee donghyuck!" he pairs a charming smile with his introduction, and you almost laugh (key word: almost) at the allure of this stranger. he holds out his hand for you to take, presumably for a handshake, and it's not like it'll kill you or anything, so you take his hand, shaking it.
"l/n y/n" you respond, he doesn't hold your hand for long, his grip quickly slipping away from yours as he leans back in his seat sighing.
"alright then, y/n" he begins, playing with the joint in his fingers. "what's making you so upset tonight?"
"do i have to tell you?"
"would you rather sit here in silence and watch me destroy my lungs?"
the answer to that question is easy, no, when given the ultimatum, talking about your issues seems much easier than whatever else he was saying. "it's just— my friends suck! they call me overdramatic for wanting birthday gifts and then they proceed to blow up my phone with texts!"
donghyuck raises an eyebrow, blowing out more smoke. "they didn't even try to get you gifts?"
"they didn't even remember my birthday!" you shout, getting more and more irritated as you recall the incident. "i've literally gotten ignored all day, they only just remembered like two hours ago! can you believe that?"
"what a bunch of assholes.." he mumbles, a smell of burnt cigarettes in the air. "what kind of friends are those?"
"right? and now they're just expecting me to answer their calls!? they can go to hell for all i care!"
"petty" donghyuck comments absentmindedly, his smile doesn't go unnoticed by you, he has such a nice smile, you note. "i like it" he says again, playing with the joint in his fingers.
"i have every right to be petty, they don't deserve my attention.." you brush dust off your sweater, looking forward at the train tracks, your eyes cast up at the board which usually displays how long until your train comes. "you've gotta be fucking kidding me".
"what's wrong now?"
"train is delayed".
"ah" donghyuck resists the urge to laugh at your look of defeat, he doesn't want to upset you. "guess were gonna have to walk home".
you groan at the idea, but you stand up, though begrudgingly. "i don't live anywhere near this place" you shove your hands into your pockets, now annoyed by the fact that you'll have to walk home, just another horrible thing to add onto your horrible day.
"well, we could always walk together".
at donghyuck's suggestion, you give him a baffled look, and he finally does laugh at the look you share with him, taking another drag of the joint tucked between his fingers. "were still strangers, i'm not sure that's safe".
"you gave me your lighter, were basically soulmates".
the statement makes a baffled chortle escape your lips, and you click your tongue at his words. you try your best to ignore the constant buzzing of your phone. "wow, your a comedian aren't you?"
"a proud one too".
the words get another laugh out of you, and you look down at the floor, at your moving feet. "at least let me walk you out of the station, i don't want to leave you here".
"how endearing, lee donghyuck" you tease, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. he seems to like those words, because he allows for his lips to turn up into a grin. he drops his cigarette onto the ground and puts it out with his foot. "fine, i'll let you walk me out".
"thank you! i won't disappoint!"
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oceantornadoo · 15 hours
Text
ex and the city (simon riley x female reader)
inspired by s2 ep18 of sex and the city (currently on a binge). miranda and steve are the cutest (pls don't spoil)
ANGSTY
--
fuck, it was him.
simon stood at the other side of your door, glaring into your peephole. you stepped back quickly, hand covering your mouth in shock. after running away from him on the street the other day, you hadn't expected him to show up. maybe you could just not answer, pretend it never happened and- "can hear ya breathin', dove." shit.
you quickly unlocked the door, trying to compose yourself. "simon! hi!" shit you needed to calm down. that is not how an ex-fiancee would treat her almost-husband. "shitty thing you did, runnin' like a rabbit fr'm me." your eyebrows rose. he was going for it. "i didn't run!" he looked at you, dead-eyed. letting the silence hang over you like a dark cloud, the air growing tense in your apartment hallway behind him.
"you ran." you ran a hand down your face, the other tightening your grip on your door. "well, i wasn't expecting to see you and- i just-" your voice choked, an attempt at hiding back your tears. "hurt my feelin's, dove." simon kept his arms crossed, staring down at you. he never did talk about his feelings much, but seeing the woman who was supposed to be his wife, his forever, run away from him? that hurt even a dead man like him.
"well i don't do very well with ex-boyfriends and..." you trailed off, staring at your toes. the tears were hot behind your eyes now, months of frustration and longing boiling to the surface. "dove..." he reached out and tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. the feeling of his gloves against your skin was so familiar you almost closed your eyes, but snapped them open when you remembered. "this is me. simon." you nodded, throat thick. you shrugged, struggling to find the words to convey how you survived without him for the past four months. you decided on a simple, "yeah."
"i held your head while you wer' sleepin'." simon took off his mask, tucking it in his pocket. his hair was a bit longer since the last time you saw it. his face a bit scruffy, sporting a few new scars, from the last deployment you had screamed at him for. your neighbor appeared behind him, tilting her head back as she pretended not to listen. you turned away, rubbing at your eyes as they turned red. he took the silent invite and ran with it, stepping through and closing the door before your neighbor saw you vulnerable. always protecting you physically, even when he couldn't emotionally.
"im sorry. im so sorry it- i just-" you rubbed at your chest, an aching spot forming behind your rib cage. "shh dove, s'ok, yer ok." he reached for you and then stopped himself, remembering he didn't get that privilege anymore. "i just hadn't seen you in so long and i thought you might have died and i missed you simon..." your voice cracked at his name, the taste of it so familiar. like a warm hot chocolate on a winter's day, a cool lemonade on a summer's night. "im a shitty person! you'd never do anything that shitty." he chuckled. you, always idolizing him, making him out to be a golden boy when really he was rotting, a half-dead thing for you to play with. "showed up to yer apartment in the middle of the day an' called yer landlord to make sure you were in. what'dya call that?" a sob rose from your throat, the humor of what he said hitting you hard. "yeah that was pretty shitty." you nodded, rewarding him with a weak smile and a half-angry tone.
"i miss you. in my bones, si." his eyes were wet, crinkling in the leftover eye-black. "im here, dove. what'rya doin' friday?" you let out a sob again, covering your mouth. "i have a date." fuck, he'd kill him. he'd let johnny plant mines and put gaz on intelligence and ask price to redeem that one favor from a year ago. he'd make it look like an purposeful accident, a gas leak or a water heater explosion. something where even the man's family couldn't get any money. he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous tick he only showed in front of you. "can't pretend to be happy for ya, dove. can't be a better man on this." and suddenly you were hugging him, hands reaching over his shoulders as you stood on familiar tiptoes. his hands automatically circled your waist, the feel of it engrained in his soul. something he could describe from memory. "lets just...stay here awhile. okay?" he nodded into your hair, breathing in that familiar scent. he had another chance at making you his wife and he wasn't going to lose it again.
--
i kinda want to write one of these for all of the 141?? we'll see.
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bluesmooon · 2 days
Text
PURE PERFECTION
carl grimes x reader
tags: teeny bits of angst but mostly fluff!
masterlist here!
this one was requested, thank u anon bc this is so cutsie pootsie
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─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
The night Carl got shot was most definitely the hardest night of your life. The run to the infirmary afterwards seemed like it would never end. You stayed with him till the morning, until he had fully woken up.
Witnessing the panic he went through after waking up, realizing he’d lost his eye, was harder than watching him actually lose it. Seeing him cry as much as he did made you want to love him as hard as you possibly could, but you knew he’d need a while.
And he did. He needed a long time to feel okay about it. He was insecure for a while, and you knew he always would be. You did your best to ensure he felt okay about the scar, especially with you. One instance in particular stood out to him. One instance he’d remember forever.
You’re in your room, digging through your closet for something to wear.
“Hey.” You hear a knock and turn around, looking to the doorway of your room. It was Carl. His hair was a tad damp and his bangs covering his scar completely. You smile at him. “Hey. Did you shower?” You ask, turning back to your closet, rummaging through it. “Uh yeah like an hour ago.”
You turn around after finding your shirt to see him holding his bandage in his hands. “D-do you think you could help me?” His tone is almost sweet, but it was shy enough to tell you that he was worried. He hadn’t asked for you to help him before. You’d seen the scar of course, just while Denise changed his bandage at the beginning, but it was quick enough so that it wasn’t fully exposed to you. You also sometimes looked away out of respect for him.
You give him a small nod. “Yeah of course.” You toss your now very unimportant shirt on your bed as you lead him over to the bathroom. You have him sit on the edge of the bath tub as you prepare to put his bandage on for him.
“I hope I do this right.” You laugh. You tried your best to make him feel comfortable. You could tell how nervous he was. He watches as you lay the bandage across the sink. “I’m sure you will.” He smiles in the cute way he does, masking his nerves (you know that one cutsie smile? that). When you approach him, he tenses up a little, correcting his posture.
You stand in front of him, in between his legs and look down at him as he looks up at you. His bangs fall back from his face a little and parts of his scar is exposed. You smile at him, kissing his forehead before pushing his bangs back fully. He still looks at you nervously.
“I…” You don’t let him finish his sentence before leaning down to kiss him. You can feel him smile into the kiss before pulling away. His smile is ten times bigger than before. “I think youuu…are pure perfection.” You say, taking his chin in your hand as he smiles up at you.
“I love you.” He looks at you, absolutely infatuated.
“I love you too, Carl.”
You then help him with his bandage, making sure it’s how he wanted it. You check to see if it’s secure in the back of his hair and once you’re done you pull him up to stand and look in the mirror.
“All good?” You ask with a smile. “Yeah…yeah it’s good.”
─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
a/n: this was so fun but idk if it’s what anon wanted!!! MUEHEHEH also the smile im describing is like the smile he gives rick after rick explains everything with michonne in season 6 ep 11 T-T when he’s all like “it’s cool” YOU KNOW?
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irishmammonagenda · 3 days
Note
Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️
Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?
Answer only if you're okay with that❤️
Have a great day🏃‍♂️
hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)
i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)
anyway this was fun to write
grma for the ask <3
Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.
DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊
WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.
LUCIFER
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He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.
At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.
He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.
"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.
He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.
The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.
The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.
'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.
Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.
Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.
"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."
(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)
MAMMON
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Haha, Emo!
"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"
It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)
BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!
He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.
You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.
The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.
LEVIATHAN
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The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.
He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.
He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)
He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.
You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(
"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.
SATAN
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Satan enjoys your music taste.
He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.
What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.
No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.
He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!
The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."
ASMODEUS
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The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.
He likes paramore though!
Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!
(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)
He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!
The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.
But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.
He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.
He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs
Your his emo after all.
You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!
BEELZEBUB
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He likes it.
but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.
He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.
In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.
Very supportive.
If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)
Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.
Bro is like your own bodyguard.
Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!
He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.
He just wants to keep you safe :(
Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.
BELPHEGOR
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Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.
Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.
Wowwww. Petty.
Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.
What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.
He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.
He did.
Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.
Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.
It's kind of like a white noise machine.
Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.
Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.
Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.
And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.
But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.
Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.
On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(
Bro is such a hypocrite.
But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.
Not that he'd ever outright tell you.
But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)
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wasyago · 2 days
Note
HELLO YAGO !!! first, im in love with the au and im so glad its back second, you said that everyone started to treat etho 'like he's an expensive vase in a museum', but was he in fact so fragile? should he really 've been more careful? first question that came to my mind while i was reading the post also hugs and kisses and yayy recks au
HI HI HI HI HIIIII !!!!!!!!!!!! im glad you're loving the au 🥺
and well, after getting his big prosthetic i wouldn't say etho was fragile, but physically he was in a weaker state for sure, yes.
after such a long and complicated surgery his body needed time to adjust and heal properly, which meant etho had to rest a lot and everyone made sure to remind him of that every chance they got. the prosthetic also did indeed need time to set in, and etho had to stay in the hospital for a while just in case something malfunctioned.
really its all the "oh you can't stay up late your body needs sleep", "oh you can't sit like that what if the prosthetic didn't take properly yet", "no you can't eat that you need to start with simpler foods", "are you drinking clear water? are you sure this water is filtered?" that really got him. it made him feel weak and fragile and stupid with everyone so worried "for no reason" constantly.
and, yknow, etho was on his own most his life, not used to such amounts of care, especially when its unwanted. so the whole experience was very jarring. and mentally it put him in a bad place. and being in a bad place makes it hard to focus in extreme situations.
so him signing up for that race and tripping wasn't just on a whim stupid decision, there were definitely reasons. but there were also other ways to deal with the stress and situation in general...
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luimagines · 1 day
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IM LATE IM LATE IM SO LATE OH MYGOD anyways Divorce hcs with the links?? :3
Sure. Let's cry today. And naturally this has to come from you since this was your idea. :)
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
Hyrule
Easily takes it the worse out of everyone.
Like hello? He tried so hard to not only work up the courage to get past his insecurities, but to also allow himself the privilege vulnerability in a world that's actively hunting him down
AND ACCEPT THEIR LOVE IN RETURN!?!?!
That would have been years in the making
And then to have it ripped away from him??
To be on cloud nine than have the rug pulled form under him?
You think it's not going to go bad? that he's not going to be depressed?
That he's not going to rethink everything that led up to that point?
How bad are you willing to bet that it's going to get? Because I'm thinking potential self harm in whatever manner it may be- for better or for worse- since he no longer cares about what happens to him
If the entire world wasn't hanging by the threat of his blood being spilled, he probably wouldn't have survived that kind of hit, you know?
Not to mention that he's probably going to be able to look at you for a long time afterwards.
Every time he does he's reminded that despite his best efforts and every humble thing he had to offer you, it wasn't enough.
Hyrule: Is doing his best to make things work
You: Yeah, it's not working
If he was trying to save a sinking ship by throwing out all the water with a bucket, why didn't you say something earlier?
Or maybe you did but clearly things just weren't the same.
But after a while, his doubts and insecurities rear their ugly head
You knew... you knew that it wouldn't be the easy life, living with him. You knew. He told you. He laid everything on the table for you since the beginning.
Why did you agree then?
Why couldn't you have simply turned him down to begin with?
It would have hurt. But he would have been past the hurt by this point.
He would have already healed
He spent so long invested in this to make sure you wouldn't regret choosing him
And he's here anyway.
Not that he's ever going to say this out loud.
He's aware enough that you're allowed to live your life as you please at the end of the day- more so if you want to leave him
But why???
Why waste time like this? Why hurt him like this?
He dwells on this for a long time and it's going to take him a long time to feel ok again
It's best to cut it cold turkey then and leave him alone.
Warrior
What... what do you mean?
Weren't you doing ok?
He thought you were both ok.
You came to him, telling him that his job took too much time from him.
Warrior gets whip lash.
He knew it was demanding but he was trying his best to spend as much with you as possible.
If he wasn't working he was with you
You had talked about cutting back to save more so he could retire earlier.
This job was a temporary circumstance
He was almost there
Warrior would try to get you to talk about it but if you weren't having it... what could he do?
He doesn't want this.
It took him so much to open up to anyone
He thought you were different. You didn't go after him for his title or power or connections.
He just didn't think those would be the things that would be your breaking point.
Warrior thought that it was that you liked him for him.
Now you're telling him he wasn't good enough?
He begs, no, pleads you to reconsider.
He doesn't want to lose you.
He starts getting insecure and begins to question everything.
When did this start? Was it something he did? Was it something he didn't do? Why didn't you talk to him? Did you even truly love him? Why didn't you want to make it work?
He could have met you halfway.
Is there someone else?
That's a question that cuts him to his core.
If you truly decide to leave him and go on your merry way, Warrior throws himself further into his work.
His retirement plans were for your benefit. He's still young. He doesn't have family. He has no one depending or expecting anything from him.
He has no other home to return to.
Warrior will stay in the Queen's court then.
He will also stay out of relationships from that point on.
If another comes along then it will take a lot of persistence on their part to get through to him.
Four
His entire body freezes up
But he thought-
He could have sworn-
Sure, your relationship wasn't perfect but he was happy with it.
He was doing everything he could to make things work.
He thought that it was working.
What do you mean you want other things?
What do you mean this wasn't what you thought you wanted?
Why are you doing this?
Why bring this up?
No.
No. He doesn't want this.
Where did you think you could go with this?
Give him a reason.
Give him a single solid reason for this divorce.
He doesn't want to lose you-
But really... even if he doesn't agree with your reason, is that all the more reason to let you go?
Were you just looking for a reason to leave this entire time?
Do you think you could just cut him off? Just like that? After thing you went through together?
Have you been talking to someone and he didn't know it?
He gets angry.
He's heartbroken.
Was this an easy decision to come to? How long have you been thinking about this?
He goes to work, throwing all his frustrations onto the anvil.
Four wears himself out quickly.
After weeks of letting the process go through he finally comes home to an empty house.
He looks around his house for the first time since you mentioned it.
All of your stuff is gone.
He sits by the couch- feeling too tired to process any emotion he may be feeling.
Until he cries himself to sleep.
Sky
His reality crashes, much like the plate he was in the middle of washing.
He's sorry...but what?
Maybe he misheard you... somehow
"What did you say?"
You repeat yourself and say that you're going to leave him.
"....Ok but.... why?"
His brain shuts up and he's no longer thinking.
Goes along with it
Because what else he supposed to do.
Is this even something he can fight? Should he fight?
You brought it up. Is this something you want? Probably.
He loves you. He wants you to be happy. Would this make you happy?
He promised to do everything in his power to make you happy. He promised to support you through thick and thin, even at the cost of his own happiness.
He vowed that on your wedding day.
Sky tries to get your side of the story.
He tries to see what he did wrong.
If there was something you wanted out of him that he wasn't giving you, then he wants to know.
If there was something that he did too much of, he wants to know.
If there was a moment where you realized he was different than what you thought he was, well... he wants to know that too.
He cries every night.
You moved out early, not wanting to see him at his lowest so you could go through with the decision.
It's not that you hated him... but you weren't going to change your mind about this.
He knows that he was supposed to help with the surface settlement stay sturdy and strong, but he really just wants to be with his loft wing right now.
But what if you also went back to Skyloft?
Sky isn't sure he can handle seeing you again without breaking down into bitter sobs.
Even if you decided to stay on the surface, even if it was to get away from him, he not so sure he would be able to handle that either.
Granted, the surface is much larger than Skyloft would have ever hoped to be- but he would much rather you choose the direction and he'll go the opposite way.
News travels fast about your divorce.
There's only so many people for it to go to and everyone knows everyone any way.
Sky isn't so sure that he likes that about his people anymore.
Twilight
Sits you down and wants you to write it down
He wants you to write everything wrong with him and what was wrong with the relationship
He wants you to add as many details as you can think of
Twilight then proceeds to read the entire list out loud.
To your face.
Do the reasons make sense?
Do you stand by what you said?
Is it things that you're willing to work on to make it work?
No?
You're not going to let him make the necessary changes to even try?
He takes a deep breath but lets you go.
Fine. Leave then.
He already has some abandonment problems but he likes to think he's grown over them at this point.
Not that he has- but he handles it better than most would think.
He cries for months because he misses you but he's never been one to stay in one place or remain idle for very long anyway.
There's always something to do around the farm and the village.
And to be honest, the fact that he stays busy makes it easier to dull the pain little by little everyday.
Arguably takes the less time to heal since he actually has a support system near him.
His village family help him a lot and also help him to stay busy and distracted.
They don't want to give him a moment where he has the opportunity to miss you.
Not to say that it's a perfect system, but they want Twilight to know that they're always by his side even if things didn't work out in the end.
That being said. They no longer like you.
They'll be civil to your face and when Twilight is around but you hurt Twilight and hurt him deeply. They won't forgive that easily.
Twilight knows this but he's not about to tell them to leave you alone in that regard.
It really... really hurt and he's not exactly interested in keeping any kind of relationship in the beginning.
He'll never speak bad about you but he can never look at you the same way again after this.
Never stops caring about you though.
Twilight can't even bring himself to be mad about it.
It just hurts.
Still lives on peacefully though, just without by his side.
Wind (aged up)
Guess who's going straight into the ocean!!
Well- he sorta does.
He doesn't walk straight into it, but like a lot of other Links he's going to do his best to distract himself.
Not that it works all that much.
He leaves his cabana and gets back in his boat, just ready to spend who knows how much time along at sea.
It's worrying to the islanders.
He just left and hasn't come back yet!! Did something happen to him?
Wind is trying his hardest to find comfort in the familiar
But the lack of your presence is really highlighted with his time at sea.
There's just energy inside of him that urges him to do something reckless- to live recklessly.
But he's not a child anymore- and well... actually...
Who's going to miss him?
Aryll for sure, but she's a big girl now. He knows she can watch after herself.
There's Tetra and her crew but he hasn't seen them in a while and contact was few and far in-between to begin with.
The time at sea has him thinking dangerous thoughts.
And he fantasizes about worlds perhaps he shouldn't venture to.
If When he comes home- he actually goes back to Outset- not his cabana.
At first it was to see how everyone was doing after his time away.
He wanted closure- to see everyone for potentially the last time and leave things on a nice note.
He's finds the familiar he's looking for.
He's strengthen by his nostalgia and the love that was stripped away from him.
Wind stays there for months, building himself back together without you by his side.
It's not easy.
His sister and her family are a life line he didn't know he needed.
He tries not to feel jealous though.
He quite meet the pirates yet or they'll tempt him to join them back at sea...
Back to the thoughts and the blank pages...
The drinks.
Wind writes to them though and tells them to save his spot for the time being.
When he feels better.
Legend
HO BOY HERE WE GO
This guy- destroyed
I'm talking gives up on life kind of deal
He no longer cares
Do you hear me?
Warrior and Hyrule react badly but this guy is right on their heels
Someone is going to have to check in on his constantly
And I mean constantly
If someone doesn't, he's not going to get up from bed.
Meaning- he won't clean, he won't eat, he won't drink water
He's done- he is done with life.
The one time he had happiness- and stability- and genuine care from another person turned out to be a total lie.
Did you do this on purpose?
This is worse.
He hopes he's dreaming. He hopes that every time he goes to sleep, he's going to wake up and it would have all been just one messed up, scary and heart wrenching nightmare.
But he's tired.
He's tired of losing people.
He's tired of fighting, of heartache, of needing to prove himself
He thought he didn't have to do any of that with you- but he still fell short?
Tell him you're playing from messed up prank on him.
Tell him you're not going to do it.
Tell him it's not real.
Tell him he's dreaming.
Please.
Please.
Don't-...
Don't go.
He's sorry.
He's not sure what went wrong but he can fix it! He swears it.
Legend may not survive otherwise.
Time
Record scratch TM
Is this it then?
....Every meeting does have its parting after all.
Just... Just why?
You both promised until death do you part.
Time does not take his promises lightly. And he does not make them often.
Time feels long forgotten bitterness bubble up from inside him.
Alright- go then.
Don't come back.
He leaves before you can begin to move out despite what he told you.
He's never needed much. He's fine and content with a satchel and the clothes on his back.
That's what he tells himself anyway.
His inner child wishes to return to the forest but he knows that he's grown too large and too old- the magic would never allow him to enter into the comforts of his once peaceful childhood.
He can no longer make Epona run as she used to. She is an old mare now- but she's still his loyal companion, taking him far from the home you both once shared.
Granted, he plans to return... at some point.
He'll give you a week or two to leave before he returns.
He hopes you've taken everything you've needed because he packs up the things he plans on keeping before getting rid of everything.
And I mean- everything.
You wanted to part ways? Fine.
He'll burn that bridge.
Forget it.
Forget everything!
He'll start over. With less, but with himself and his horse and the little things that he needs.
It's not like his life had known peace to begin with- this is just one more disappointment to add to his list of life's backstabbing betrayals.
Forget romance- he never should have tried.
He never should have let you in.
This is his own doing- he fooled himself into thinking things were ok.
That this was something he could have.
A little voice tells him that Twilight still needs to come from somewhere...
But there are ways to pass on his legacy... or maybe he was wrong?
Wild
Oh dear
He thought he knew what it was to have loved and lost
This is different
This is completely than what he thought he knew
This... is worse.
You're leaving him
Because.... because why?
Everything was fine.
He.... he was good in the end, right? He did his job and saved the day and wanted to live a peaceful life
But he's not losing you to some accident or some unforeseen circumstance.
If anything, you're leaving him... out of a want.... to have nothing to do with him anymore.
Was he not enough?
Insecurity rears its ugly head and faces him head on.
He wasn't enough to take down the calamity when he should have, he wasn't enough to save his friends when he should have, he wasn't enough to get the master sword when he should have-
Are you just another person he's disappointed in his life?
Wild takes a while to come to terms with this.
A long while.
Long enough where you might have moved on by then and found someone else.
Surely it's nothing personal, right?
Oh goodness- when you find someone new- yikes
Someone ought to make sure that Wild gets out into the sunlight every now and then and that he's actually eating something as well
He completely shuts down.
He stays in his house- not willing to go on any adventures... or go anywhere in general
It would take a while for people (other than Zelda, I think) to even notice that he's suddenly a shut in.
Considering he was hardly home to begin with- going from place, to place, to place- and then moving between places so he wouldn't be in one place for very long- it would take a while for Sidon, Yunobo, Riju, Teba, Purah, Paya, Robbie- anyone to figure out that "hey, Link hasn't been here a while."
Zelda would have to be the one to either help Wild or get reinforcements so that Wild would stay active.
It would be completely up to Reader if they try to help him or not.
They would probably have the best success in getting Wild to take care of himself- but it could also very well make it worse when they leave again.
It's almost like they've died.
Except they're very much alive and Wild's not so sure what would have been worse.
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devnmon · 3 days
Text
Reason on the Common Tongue (of you lovin' me)
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Dutch Van Der Linde x F!Reader
Summary: You’ve taken another man in camp out for drinks while Dutch was busy and unwilling to take the night off. Who’s to say he’s forgotten where you’d gone by the time you return?
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warnings: oral (f&m receiving, sir kink, noncon(?), rough!dutch, dom/sub roles, unprotected piv, orgasm denial, cumming inside (not recommended for irl experiences), sweet aftercare <3
a/n: anyone else insane about dutch van der linde? just me???? anyways just wanted to say this is filthy and also one of my favorite things i’ve written. i say that everytime i write something new but i truly love this fic. [who would have known this was going to be my first fic for rdr2.] also huge shoutout & credit to my moot jay @bandittlikemee for everything she’s done to help me write this fic. youre truly a genius bestie! also this is set in the clemen's point camp!
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Dutch Van Der Linde was a busy man. So much so that he didn’t have time to get up to ludicrous activities such as drinking the night away in the Rhodes saloon. It was another sweltering night in Clemen’s Point; nothing exciting had happened for a few days on account of lying low to skip out on any facetime with the Pinkertons. Since you’d been itching to get out of camp, and your ever-so-important leader wouldn’t spend a singular night with his partner drinking and dancing, you offered the trip up to a familiar gunslinger instead. 
With a wave towards his tent, the two of you were off to the local saloon on the back of Arthur’s horse. It was long after dark before the two of you returned; you had been more indulgent than your companion, practically making Arthur carry you out to his horse before you got too inebriated on the drink. Being swept off your feet like Arthur had done felt like flying, especially when he sped up his horse on the ride back to camp. 
“Whoo! That was one fun night, Mister Morgan. Even if you didn’t let me out on the dance floor.” 
“Don’t you dare get sick on this horse b’fore we get back to camp.” 
“I ain’t drunk!” you called out. 
“Yeah, and I ain’t a gunslinger.” Arthur joked. 
You both boasted with laughter and quips during the ride back into camp, fairly shortened by Arthur’s ability to ride a horse, and soon enough you were entering the clearing. 
Dutch, spending his night nursing a cigar, perked up once he heard your familiar laughter in his ears. He knew the minute you’d left camp with Arthur, it was a mistake. Were you to blame? Or was he? Surely you could’ve known all he was combatting at the moment; the leader of a powerful gang, the Van Der Linde’s, had more on his plate than you could even fathom. Moves, and countermoves, he’d say. All in good time, Dutch has a plan.
To find out you’d left camp with Arthur of all men, his son, whom he’d raised since just a boy– was he a fool to you? Did you underestimate all he was capable of? Did you think him a fool?
He’d show you, indeed he was not. 
Dutch took another deep inhale of his cigar, the tobacco filling his mind with a haze of your figure. Then he’d remembered who you’d been spending the time with. Another laugh escaped your lips, louder than usual, and his dark eyes found you sat on the back of Arthur’s horse, reaching toward the cowboy for assistance in getting down. He can’t help but glue his eyes to your waist, accompanied by Arthur’s hands for what seems to be a moment longer than he’d like. 
Sat in silence, he's almost as red as his vest when you approach the tent. 
“Hey, baby. Wish you came with us t’night. I almost punched a man for makin’ a crude comment toward me. You would’a loved to see it, the guy basically pissed himself when Arthur threatened ‘im.” You're slurring your words while babbling on incoherently; your balance is shoddy at best, and he doesn't even say anything until you mention his right-hand man. 
"Have fun drinking with Arthur, dear? Was he able to... satisfy you?"
"Mhm, Arthur was very kind to me tonight." To even suggest you'd be satisfied being in the company of anyone else but him makes Dutch furious. 
"Did he... rustle your feathers, dearest?" With the way he punctuated his words, you're a bit confused by what he means, since the drink's gone to your head.
"What'dya mean?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him by chance he'd forget Arthur was by your side all night instead of him. Dare you poke the bear. 
"Did he–" he let out a breath of smoke, "Was he such good company that you'd forgotten about me? Your leader?" The grumble in his voice fans the flames in your chest; if you weren’t warm from the alcohol, you certainly were now. 
Your glazed eyes make out the vision of Dutch, his silhouette darkened by one lamp still lit. When he starts sauntering towards you, step by slow step, you know he's not amused by all this Arthur talk. 
"Mm, no, never." Your intoxication doesn't help you sound convincing, though sober you knows Dutch loves the reassurance. 
"Sounds like you're lying to me, my love." 
He flicks his cigar out of the tent and watches as you stumble to sit down in a chair facing him. Then your mind pulls you back to the events at the saloon– drinking with Arthur and watching him dance drunkenly to the piano– you're giggling at the image. But Dutch.. he's not finding this funny. 
"What’s laughable, right now, dear? "He asks, accentuating the h sound while tilting his head at you down with his dark eyes. 
"Jus'... Arthur was so fun to be with t'night. An’ I missed you... wish you'd come with us, handsome."
"Well I had to tend to more pressing matters, my darling. You'd only understand if you weren't so piss drunk right now. Maybe I ought to teach you a lesson about what company you should be keeping."
Dutch takes a seat on his cot, his right hand tapping the corresponding thigh. As if instinctual, you lunge yourself over to him and take your rightful seat. 
Dutch has always been intimidating, it was one of the reasons you've become enamored with him. But when he narrows his eyes and guides them down your face and figure, close up? you're blushing out of being perceived by such a man of power in this world. 
"What're you giggling about now?" he inquires, holding your head with his palm so you'll make eye contact. 
"You're jus' so handsome, Mister Van der Linde. My sweetest, the most dashing man I've met."
"You, my dear, are adorable,” he began, and with a click of his tongue, he continued, “But, I still don't believe you. How ‘bout you… make it up to me, hm?" 
At that point, you can already feel him hardening under you in his lap, and you clench around nothing. For the first time tonight, your voice shakes. 
“What.. would you have me do?” You swallow nervously, wavering your eyes from his for a moment; he ordered your gaze be brought back to his immediately with the clearing of his throat. As if to check you for disobedience. 
“On your knees… now.” Dutch’s voice lowered, his words putting a spell on you once spoken. Sliding down to your knees, your hands glided over his thighs for just a moment, letting the friction spike his legs with another level of desire to show you who you belong to. 
“Don’t tease me, darling… lest I have to remind you why you’re on your knees for me.” Dutch’s eyes darkened once you were firmly on your knees, tongue darting out to wet your lips. It was as if a Greek god asked you to bow down to him and solely him– Dutch’s physique and natural manliness only contributed to that image of him in your mind. 
Your hands reached for the button of his pants, pulling them down his muscular thighs to see his growing hardness underneath the cloth. For a minute, your palm brushed against his girth, earning a grumble from the man above you. It wasn’t lost on him the way you were acting, all innocent like you weren’t aware of the way you were making him burn for your touch. 
Once your hands had them down far enough, the dark tuft of hair from his mound came into the light, which opened your eyes wide upon pulling it all the way off. Dutch’s length sprung upwards and caught your eye, especially frustrated and swollen, much like his growing displeasure with your actions. Freed from the confines of his pants and undergarments, his cock stood tall, lying well past his navel against that black vest of his. 
As your grip surrounds his base, Dutch clears his throat once more whilst observing every move you made. Your thumb runs along the prominent vein sticking out and moving your hand up his length. He’s certain you aren’t aware just how vexed you had gotten him. 
“Get to it.” he spat, enunciating every part of his words with that sharp wit and tongue. Without another second to spare, you licked the pearling precum resting on his tip, before enveloping it with your lips. Luckily for you, he filled your mouth quite nicely, his fingers running through your hair to grip tightly at the back of your head. Tongue running down the underside as you began to ravish him with your lips, he took the advantage to push you down a couple inches more. 
With his tip almost nudging the back of your throat, you push down another inch or so and bobbing up and down on him to your heart’s content. The alcohol-buzzed vision of him, burning brighter with each inch you took further past your lips. Dutch rolled his shoulders and neck out in a slow motion, locking those gluttonous eyes of his back onto you with a smirk. 
You came up for air with a pop of your lips, his erection shining under the warm light from your saliva. 
“So big…” you whispered, stroking him with your hand and going back down for another taste. This time, Dutch was not simply fooling around; his hand forced you down rougher this time, the back of your throat welcoming him once again. It was ravishing to be put under the control of a man such as Dutch; the power he held over you was maddening and traveled to your head every so often. With the tip kissing the back of your throat after each shove down his length, your eyes begin to well up. 
“Takin’ me so deep, love, you’ve got tears in your eyes. Now I have truly seen it all.” Releasing his hard grip for a moment, you come off his cock and wipe them away like they aren’t anything special. 
“I’d do much more for you, sir.” You choke out, lips swollen from just his cock, and you press a kiss to his tip before sticking out your tongue and swallowing him whole again. The hand that was once gripping your hair was cupping your cheek, the other had undone two of his vest buttons, leaving his broad torso on display in just that white and blue striped shirt. 
This time Dutch chuckles in that deep gravel of his, surging your heat with a plethora of warmth. His chest broadens with every exhale of fervent breath, the slow burn of dissatisfaction eating him up inside. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead, the knot in his groin tugging at him ever so slightly. 
You let his length fill your throat wantonly, pushing yourself down enough to take every inch. Your nose became buried in the dark patch of curls he’d kept tidy, clearing his throat once more while relishing in the warmth of your tongue against him. 
“You’re gonna taste me for days, sweetheart. Gonna – fuck – gonna remind you who you belong to. Make it so you don’t forget this time.” Dutch’s right hand combed through your hair, controlling your mouth’s movements down his shaft, saliva messily covering his skin. A particular thrust of your head in his grip pushes your nose into his curls, making you gag around him. It’s not much to remind him why you were his, the raw class he omitted an infectious disease; it just so happened to be you found under his spell. 
Repeatedly, your head moved up and down his cock, Dutch gripping your hair and taking what he deserved. After all, you did take another man out to drink. How dare you not bask in the appreciation of his company otherwise? Dutch had no discretion– no temper to waste on explaining himself to you. You should have known he’d get mad. 
On spur of the moment, his controlling movements halted and your tongue swirled around his tip. A feral growl erupted from his chest, painting your cheeks pink before releasing him to catch your breath. 
“Mmmph, Dutch…” comes out as a whine, shifting the weight you’d been sitting on. 
“What now, dearest? I don’t think you deserve to complain after what you’ve done.” His words manifest a wave of arousal scorching your skin and mind– Dutch was torturous in that regard. When he clicked his tongue, you knew there was only a matter of time until he truly took control. This was only the beginning of a very long night. 
Dutch had a way of changing the temperature of a room with one fell swoop. To you, it was a life altering experience being under his discipline, especially in this setting. 
Another whine escaped you, words eventually choked out, “I’m sorry, Dutch…” 
He solely chuckled, sitting up and raising your chin with his index finger. 
“That’s funny, my dear. You didn’t seem sorry when you stormed off and took Mister Morgan as company.” He sneered, the permanent smirk on his face, becoming bigger by the second. You clung to his words like water coating a piece of cloth, soaking up every syllable for a smidge of satisfaction. 
“Please, I’m so…” you trailed off, your thoughts whisked away when you heard him chuckling. 
“You’re sorry?” 
Nodding almost instantaneously, he clicked his tongue. 
“Fine. As much as I’d love to fill that sweet mouth of yours all night long, I’m itching for a taste of your perfect cunt. Come here.” 
Two fingers motioned you towards him, tongue sticking out to wet his lips, while inclining his head at the vision of you still kneeling for him. Dutch didn’t miss the slightly pained sound as you relieved the weight on your knees, knowing they’d most likely be bruised tomorrow. He took incredible amounts of pride seeing himself in the bruises, teeth marks, and spend he left behind on your saccharine skin. 
Your swollen lips wet from your tongue, sensitive thanks to the friction against his length moments ago. Still shy of that dark gaze when he too stood, a forefinger and thumb brought you right back to him. 
“I need you to know…” he spoke breathlessly, crushing your lips to his in one motion. Dazed by his sudden affection and the thick tension in the room, you drowned in his taste.
Unbound by any other attachments, your soul was his. 
Dutch’s lips pressed against yours were fervent and skillful, a new taste of himself on you. By the third peck, Dutch had forced his tongue into your mouth, venom coating your mouth. Intoxicating. 
His right hand finds your waist, pulse hammering in your chest as that broad figure of his flooded your visual field up close. 
 “... that your actions have consequences.” His grip tightened around your jaw, tobacco on his breath as he spoke. 
“Just because I don’t wish to accompany you to the town saloon for a drink does not mean you’re permitted to take the next desperate fella in company who’d so easily strike you from my arms.” That slight growl in his voice paired with the liquor in your system triggered the heat at the apex of your thighs to burn hotter. 
“Arthur ain’t like that–” you slurred, getting cut off by a hiccup; a clear sign you were still not understanding how gravely Dutch was taking your little excursion out of camp. His voice was nothing but otherworldly, smooth and rich with charisma and magnetism. No surprise you obeyed his every word without question. 
“I don’t remember asking for excuses,” he spat, smirking, “Let’s get you out of this dress..” 
Those calloused yet talented hands of your leader find the back zipper quite easily, wasting no time by pulling it down your shoulders roughly. The fabric was tight, but with the level of Dutch’s strength, you wouldn’t put it past him to create a few rips. His movements were followed accordingly, still ravaged with the current indignation he held upon you. 
Once you met his eye, seeming to shrink a bit more when looking up to him, that foreboding glare into you was similar to putting a flame near a stick of dynamite. There was no telling when he (or you) would explode. That dashing face of his created another spark inside you, one bold enough to pull his lips to yours once again. A hand grasped the back of your neck tenderly, the first soft action Dutch made upon your skin. 
Don’t fall into his touch… you tell yourself. But the drink was too strong, and his venom made its way into your bloodstream. There was no turning back. 
Aphotic, tantalizing eyes studied you, the only way you could sense his willingness to please after the fury that still embodied him. 
“Satiate me...” he beckoned, walking you backwards to his cot where your knees met the side. Adhering to his plea, your back found the fabric and sighed amongst the sight of him above you. His hands never left your body, sliding down your back to the side of your leg, then moving to your inner thigh with the slightest touch before gripping it with his broad palm. 
Suddenly the thin chemise was much too hot against your skin. 
“Dutch, please…” you begged once again. 
“Ah ah… that’s Mister Van Der Linde to you, my sweetness. You’ll receive the right to say my name when you’ve earned it.” His voice was like honey, eager fingers tugging at the white cloth. Dutch didn’t need permission, he gladly took what he believed to be his, no matter the cost. You swallowed thickly at the cool air prickling your skin with the tensity and vigor the man before you withheld. 
“Yes, sir, Mister Van Der Linde…” you professed, breathlessly. 
Dutch’s cock twitched upon the sir that fell from your lips. He chuckled, tightening his grip on your undergarment and dragging it down your skin. Your chest was exposed to him first, keen skin still layered with sweat and goosebumps while your nipples hardened against the nighttime air. You were just as he expected, breathing heavily and quivering under the first touch of his fingertips. Impatient, the garment was dragged down your legs by the older man and discarded on the floor. 
Dutch’s hands parted your quivering thighs, calloused palms from years of using a gun gripping around you firmly. You could practically feel the flame of his gaze make its way up to the tuft of hair making an appearance from between your legs. He slid both palms up your legs, parting them accordingly so that your slick caught the light. Focused on his face, you notice his walnut eyes catch yours, immediately heating your cheeks. 
It was meant to be; Dutch was your siren, luring you in with each word he manifested, every spill of his cherry wine words onto a white tablecloth. His mouth neared the thick curls protecting your supple skin from harm, a similar style in which Dutch protected his people. 
“Such a divine sight laid out for me like this. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to, have you come back to me.” The baritone and rumble in his voice was like nothing you’d ever heard before. He was quite honestly a man starved, no matter how angered he was at what you’d done. 
Before you knew it, Dutch’s nose was poking your clit the slightest bit, meanwhile he’d pressed his tongue through your folds and covered himself in your taste. You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts as everything you’ve ever felt for Dutch comes flooding back in the blink of an eye. Each stroke of his tongue was another day you’d spent by his side, loyal to no other. 
Your leader, your lover, your siren. 
Nothing else filled your senses, except for Dutch Van Der Linde. 
Those dark brown eyes were lidded against the lack of light, his tongue skillfully drinking in your sweet nectar as if it was his last meal. You danced across his taste buds and he groaned, the vibration sending your hips rolling against his mouth out of impulse. Exhaling sharply and continuing to breathe shakily, the tip of Dutch’s tongue circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck– sir… oh god,” He pressed a chaste kiss to your clit, breath hitching in anticipation. The flat of his tongue ran kitten licks up your folds, each movement sending a jolt coursing through you. Before you could protest, he ended another stripe up your cunt with a tantalizing drag against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It was particularly frustrating when he hummed against you once more. 
“Hope this is reminding you,” he swallowed, “of where your loyalties lie. To whatever man you can get your hands on? Or me, your leader? The sole individual responsible for keeping this entire group pieced together?” 
It was a no-brainer. 
“You– fuck… My loyalty lies with you, Mister Van der Linde. I promise… never to take another man in company… again.” You breathed, in disbelief at how composed he was; you were a downright panting mess, but a goddamned sight laid out like this for him. 
Upon your hips stuttering against his tongue, Dutch shifted closer to your core, hooking his large biceps around each of your thighs and gripped with his overpowering strength. The cool gold of his rings was a contrast to how hot your skin ran under his touch. That tongue of his circled around your clit repeatedly, until he pulled away to admire the mess he’d made of you in such short time. 
“Fuck– oh god…” your nails ran through his jet black hair to grip at the back of his head. Dutch’s mouth worshiped each part of you equally, sticking his tongue inside you every so often; it was driving you mad. 
Thinking himself clever, he pulled his right arm from gripping around your thigh. His rings ran across the vast expanse of your skin, trailing the chilled metal close to where you were most sensitive. 
His amber eyes glanced upward, past the natural curves of your breasts to your fully blissed out expression; your eyes were scrunched together, mouth hanging open with bated breath. The haze of intoxication still coursing through you sent ripples of pleasure surging up your spine. 
“I’ve decided to let you redeem yourself, my love. What would you say to that?” Dutch inquired, using that philosophical tone of voice he’s picked up from reading and quoting Evelyn Miller often. 
“I’d do… anything to have you. To please you, to bring you bliss, sir.” Your breath quivers at the point of offering yourself to him in a plea to finally satisfy you. 
“I’m not quite sure if you’re deserving of it– just yet, that is.” Maintaining eye contact with you, Dutch stood himself up to undo the buttons down his shirt and let it lay open under his red-backed vest. 
“Been… been so good for you, sir. Please,” you implored him an inch further, watching his broad chest heave with deep breaths. His hand adorned with two thick gold rings heads straight for the belt buckle around his waist. 
“Have you understood, yet, my darling? How I must be torturous? For it is the only way you’ll learn never to disobey, betray, leave me?” Dutch’s prophetic stance above you was truly enticing, the vibrato of his words coaxing another whimper from you. 
“I’ve… understood, sir,” you eyed the belt coming undone within his skilled fingers and exhaled in relief. 
“You’re going to have to do better than that to convince me. Speak, girl.” The astounding heat, not only flowing through your veins like hot magma, but also flooding your head and hazing your mind with him. Interested in what you had to say, he waited for your response and discarded his belt. 
“Sir, I’m a fool… a fool thinking anyone else could satisfy me in the ways you do.” your voice quivered, breathing heavily and watching his hickory eyes study you. His black pants found themselves in a pile along with everything else he’d discarded from your body and his. “My leader, no one else can replace you, you’re the only man made to save people in the ways you did… even me. We’re– I’m so lucky to have you. And I’m– I apologize deeply for my actions, sir.” 
He’d be hard pressed to admit the praise wasn’t intoxicating him at this moment, a growl erupting from his chest among his length stood tall against his exposed torso. 
“Well, isn’t that nice. An admittance of your mistakes. Such a lovely difference from the snark I’d been given earlier. Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson.” He gripped the base of his cock and crawled above your supple figure on his cot, noticing your sharp inhale once he was fully perched above you. Dutch’s free hand parts your thighs, making room for his tip to slide through your folds, stopping below the little bundle of nerves that ached for any kind of stimulation. 
It was easy for him to pick up on your sharp, quickened breaths upon his close proximity, scrunching your eyes shut to avoid that beckoning gaze of his. 
“If this is going to work, my love, you must look. Observe how I split you open, how you take my cock, how I fuck you.” He snarled, pecking the side of your face with open-mouthed kisses. Your eyes fluttered open as if second nature, meeting his gaze while pushing himself completely inside of you. 
His length filled you to the hilt, every ridge and groove of him welcomed by your warmth. Dutch breathed a moment with you, smashing his lips against yours to swallow the whimpers you omitted. Your hands ran up his chest, dragging your fingers through the thick chest hair to Dutch’s broad shoulders. He shrugged off the shirt and vest upon your hands sneaking under the cloth, leaving him fully bare to you. 
The first drag of his cock against your insides manifested another filthy moan to secrete from your lips while he pushed back in. 
“Sir–” you gasped, his natural musk clouding your senses. Dutch thrusted into you deeper, kissing that special spot inside of you to send you seeing stars. Quick as light, his thrusts picked up pace, setting a steady rhythm with his hips. 
“Say my name.” Dutch’s voice in your ear echoed through your head like a mantra, the only thing bombarding your senses being him. 
“Oh god, Dutch–” you choked out, his name on your tongue only spurring him on more to push deeper. 
“Yes, that’s it, again.” he spoke between thrusts, clenching around him while pulling groans of his pleasure into the air. His cock has molded to your walls, relentlessly beating such a punishing pace. 
“Dutch… ah-!” His name in your throat like a jewel only spurred him on more, humming approvingly and latching onto your neck with the sweet sucking of his lips. There was absolutely no chance of Dutch letting you get off easy without any showable marks. He had an inkling all the men in camp would think twice before making any advancing remarks toward you– lest they forget who you belong to. 
A glance downward had you turning lightheaded– did he really always look that dashing? You’d become tantalized watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a dozen times before his fingers brought your gaze back to him. Each thrust of his hips was dizzying, picking up the familiar groans in your ear once again. 
In this moment, you were completely and utterly his, transcending into a place of physical surrender and letting the world fall away. A particularly rough thrust had you calling out for him again, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 
“Got myself such a good little whore, ain’t that right? One who knows her place is with me– your only leader.” You could scarcely manage a nod upon reveling in the touches he gave you. 
Dutch was maddening, luring a groan from him once he saw how far gone you were. It was immensely overstimulating the minute Dutch’s right ringed hand dragged up your torso to the pebbled nipples standing upright from stimulation. Goosebumps expelled across your skin as the knot in your stomach began to tighten, walls fluttering around his length aimlessly. He leaned down again to the side of your face, breathing heavily above you. Slowing to deliver deep and agonizing thrusts, Dutch only drew out your orgasm further, as if he read your state of overstimulation like an open book. His fingers twisting your nipples, those smacks of his hips against yours– your sheer bliss in the center of it all. 
Your hand fisted his dark waves at the nape of his neck, another grumble aligned with his thrusts. His pace wasn’t as merciful as you hoped it would be, the sting of his precise and rough thrusts pricking tears in your eyes the same as before. You were at such a heightened state that you weren’t able to control what left your mouth anymore. 
“Daddy… I-I’m gettin’ close..” you whimper, running your other hand up his bicep to grip desperately. He felt the pride well in his chest upon his skill to pleasure you like this while also making you cry. To see you in such desperate of situations fueled his ego like a bonfire. 
“Oh, are you, my love?” he began, snaking his hand down to your navel and pressing his hand against it. The tip of his cock poked just the slightest bit against his palm. “Feel how deep I am inside you, darling, and know that nobody could fill you the way I do.” 
Dutch’s deft fingers moved downward to rub at your clit, throbbing incessantly upon his first touch. The whimper you let out was like music to his ears, filthy and drenched in content of being pleasured by him. 
By the expression on his face– he’s impressed at how well you held back from letting yourself go. It’s Dutch’s realization then that you’d always known you were his to touch and please like this, more than any other before. Dutch Van Der Linde is the object of all your desires; continuing to orchestrate bliss under any means possible. 
Every ridge and vein of him massages you in such a euphoric way, and it’s not too hard for you to be sent over the edge. It’s as if every inch of you explodes in that moment, allowing each morsel of stimulation; his fingers twisting your nipples and on your clit, the sensation of him throbbing inside you, and the sound of his voice in your ears; come together to send you gasping and moaning over his cock once again. 
You can’t hear much else other than the wet slide of him inside you, walls slick as his once steady rhythm grows erratic, forcing his thrusts to become harder and harder. An ache like this would always have a way of satisfying you in more ways than most. Dutch’s groans became visceral as he thrust one more time into you until he too was sent keening over the edge. His hips stuttered, white ropes of seed coating your walls while riding out your high to the sounds of Dutch’s melody of sweet groans and praises. 
Both of you breathed heavily as the moment passed, your grip on one another grounding you back to Earth. 
“Now, say ‘thank you, daddy’.” he snarled in your ear, keeping himself sheathed inside you while moving his hips the slightest bit. 
“Thank you, daddy..” You swallowed, breathless upon his capability to have just come down from his high and keep that cocky attitude. 
“Well, what are you thanking me for, doll? Be specific.” Dutch cupped your cheek, his thumb running along your skin lightly. 
“For… reminding me who I belong to. You.” Your lips crashed against his once again, the passion and heat of the moment still rung in the air. 
“That’s right, my darling.” He pulled out of you, lying beside you with a smug grin on his face. The two of you laid in the warmth your body heat offered, catching your breath. Cool air continued to seep into the tent, a drastic difference than the heat you two shared. Dutch was the first one to break the silence, your alcohol dazed mind still fluttering from such intense contact. 
“Oh, my darling, are you alright? You were ravishing tonight.” You glanced over, his forehead glowing with sweat in the warm lantern light. 
“Yeah, I’m good, baby. After all that, ’m glowin’. You sure know how to make a woman stay loyal.” you smirked at him, struck by his handsome face in the light. 
“I’m sure,” he chuckled, “Hope I wasn’t too hard on your precious body, my love. The last thing I would want is to injure you or push a boundary I should not have. Tell me.. dearest.” Dutch sat up, grabbing your hand with one of his, caressing your wrist with his thumb. His hair was disheveled in the most perfect way, afterglow still apparent on his cheeks. 
Warmly, you beamed at him, “Of course you weren’t, not if I made you mad in the first place. Not at all…” 
Your words brought a smile out in him, and you caught it just before he pulled you in closer to an embrace. That skin on skin contact fueled every desire for him you had since meeting him. When he noticed and made you his– that was the real luck of the draw. So many women chased after Dutch Van Der Linde as a dream, something to grasp onto as an escape from their lives. But for you, it was all so very real. 
“You are mine, my love. Don’t ever forget it again.” Dutch’s voice tickled your ears once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing a nearby blanket to cover your body from the chill of night. 
“How could I, my leader? No one could possibly compare to the man before me. I love you.” You sweetly spoke to him, one of your palms lying against his chest lovingly. 
“I love you too, my sweetness. I’m so overjoyed to hear you’re loyal to the right man.” He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek and letting his forearm wrap around your waist. 
“That I am.” you replied, laying your head on his chest with content, sleep overcoming you from the exhaustion and haze your body had been through with the night’s events. Warm and safe in his arms, your heart was Dutch Van Der Linde’s.
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"Fuck Love" (Final Part)
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A/N: This is the final part of Anti-Love Ettore. Sorry, this took me so long! School is finally over and im ready to get back into writing!
Summary: The three of you in forced proximity was never going to have a great end result.
TW: blood, murder, public masturbation, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, jealousy, rage sex, rough sex, choking, scent kink, sweat kink, fingering, degradation, name-calling,
Word Count: 4.1k
← Previous Part
I cant remember who made the X Banner. If you know please tell me.
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To simply say there was tension aboard this ship would be an understatement.
It had only been a week on this ship and the energy that travelled through these halls was palpable.
Ettore had been quiet. Too quiet. Not once had he confronted you or Jarvis, instead he watched. You could tell he was planning something. The way he would stare at you or Jarvis wasn't exactly his best effort at being subtle.
He'd stand behind you any chance he could. When you did workouts he made sure he had the best view of you crawling. When you were getting meds he was pressed behind you even though there was more than enough space. He'd be sure to be around when you were showering or getting out of the box so he could use it after you. Knowing that you were just in there, wondering who it is you were thinking of. The thoughts made him angry but had his cock so hard to the point of pain.
Jarvis on the other hand didn't seem to notice what you and everybody else did. Either the fucker was stupid or just naturally blind. He sat next to you during all meals and talked to you whenever he had the chance. If you were on the bridge he'd be right there beside you trying to hold your hand.
You hadn't given any response back, no indication that you wanted him around. Truthfully you were pissed. You wouldn't even be here if he hadn't dragged you into that mission or left you behind.
above all, you didn't want to react knowing Ettore was watching. If he caught you feeding into Jarvis he'd not only kill him but you too...after he fucks your brains out of course.
Your day had been shit.
That doctor requested all the women to come to her office and did checkups on all of you. You shrugged it off assuming it was probably one of her tasks but it still hurt like hell whatever meds she was giving you guys had you all feeling like zombies.
After finishing laundry duty you had some downtime and like all the other women planned on spending it taking a nap hoping to get rid of the groggy feeling. The break room was small and didn't have much in it but it did have a nice couch.
You get comfortable on the couch slowly drifting off peacefully humming a tune that's been stuck in your head for days.
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Stickiness between your legs.
That feeling in your stomach you hadn't felt in so long.
Gentle sleepy moans.
You're not sure how long you had been asleep but you were slowly waking up.
You could feel someone touching you. Still feeling groggy you try your best to lift your heavy eyelids.
But you don't have to know who it is. You can feel it. No one else knew your body better. What got you feeling the way you do now.
You feel a kiss on your temple and more making its way to your collarbone.
His hands move faster pulling out of your slumber. You're close and he knows it. Finally feeling awake you open your eyes.
Ettore is kneeling next to the couch a hand down your pants the other stroking your hair back.
"Who is he?" He doesn't stop moving his fingers but instead begins curling them against that spot he knows you love so much.
"E-Ettore-"
"Who. Is. He." The heel of his hand grazed against your clit ever so gently. As you ignored his question and enjoyed the feeling of being touched after so many months so close to cumming you feel it all stop as Ettore removes his hand. "I won't ask you again."
"My ex. Kind of." You were never in a committed relationship, it was more like a situationship. Though you acted like a couple he never asked you to be his girlfriend and you never asked for him to be your boyfriend.
Ettore licked his fingers clean then said nothing else before standing up and leaving the room.
You were worried. Anyone who knew Ettore would be.
He doesn't like sharing his toys.
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Another two days go by of Ettore watching you from afar, only now? Now he has decided to flaunt around the ship with no shirt on. He goes to the box before you do and moans your name loudly knowing you're outside waiting. He knows you want him, knows that you miss him.
His eyes never leave your body and his hands touch you whenever they can. You had been fortunate enough that both you and Jarvis haven't been assigned to any jobs with him.
But everyone's luck runs out.
Your heart almost dropped when you saw Jarvis' name next to Ettore's on laundry duty.
It's not like you cared about Jarvis. He's the whole reason you were here in the first place, but you can't help but remember and love the memories you share with him. The only time you got to experience a normal and real relationship was with him.
You walk over to the laundry room, your heart beating with every step. When you finally arrive you don't bother peeking in first, you waste no time and just walk in.
Ettore and Jarvis are standing facing each other. While Ettore looks relaxed Jarvis's fists are clenched and anger is evident on his face.
"What's going on in here?"
They both turn to look at you. Ettore's relaxed face switches to a smug one. He gives you a wink before turning around and continuing his task.
Jarvis walks over to you and takes your hand leading you out of the room to a quiet part of the halls.
"That's him? The reason why you left your old town?" He wasn't angry but tense. And honestly, he had a fucking attitude.
You nod. "What did he say to you?" You knew he must have said something. Ettore couldn't help himself, he had no self-control.
"Nothing to worry your pretty head over. I can handle him." You do your best not to laugh in his face. His confidence was unmeasured. "Just. Stay away from him. Ok, princess?" And now you wanted to gag.
You hated when he called you that before and you don't like it now. Pet names didn't suit him. He leans in to give only what you can assume is a kiss.
Someone clears their throat. You both turn to see Ettore leaning against a wall watching the two of you.
"I don't plan on doing laundry alone," he mutters his eyes stuck on you.
Jarvis rolls his eyes and plants a quick kiss on your cheek before going back into the laundry room, promising to come find you after.
Ettore stays for a couple more seconds just staring at you. His eyes run over your body and you watch as his hand slides in his pants. He takes in a sharp breath as his hand wraps around his length. His eyes stay trained on you as he pumps himself, squeezing tight to mimic how tight your pussy is.
You keep watching as he speeds up. His mouth hung open as he strokes himself until he cums.
You can't help but watch. You knew just like he did that he was the only one who could truly make you cum. Truly makes you see stars, he was the only one who could have you begging for more.
As if sensing your thoughts he removes his hand.
"Soon." He mumbles before turning and heading into the laundry room closing the door behind him.
All you can do is pray he keeps his word. You're not sure how much longer you can wait.
The following day you resume your normal routine. Completing whatever tasks you're assigned. You spend time with Tcherny in the garden, the only place on this ship that reminds you of Earth.
You both lay on the grass talking about your old lives. Wondering what everyone is doing right now. It's nice and calming and probably the first mundane moment you've had in a week.
Well, that moment is interrupted by the sound of someone screaming. Tcherny stands up quickly and heads for the ladder to get back up. You follow after him praying that something bad hasn't happened. As you make your way up you can hear males yelling back and forth and already know your prayer wasn't answered.
You both make your way to where the screams and yelling are coming from, you see Boyse standing at the end of the hall.
You look down the hall to see Monte attempting to restrain Ettore, blood soaking his clothes as Dibs hovers over Jarvis who's clutching his face. Tcherny runs over to help Monte.
Jarvis' face is badly beaten and there's a gash on his eye. He's screaming in pain, while Ettore is yelling at him.
Dibs administers a random syringe in Ettore getting him immobile enough for Monte and Tcherny to get him to medbay and strapped down. Jarvis is taken away as well to be checked out.
It's a couple hours before you get the chance to talk to Boyse.
She said she had heard arguing coming from the laundry room. She was originally supposed to be there with Ettore but Jarvis had practically begged her to switch with him.
When she arrived Ettore was hunched over clutching his stomach and his shirt was soaked in blood. Jarvis had stabbed him with a shard of glass.
Wait...what? Jarvis stabbed Ettore?
Boyse had screamed catching Jarvis off guard giving Ettore enough room to knock him to the ground. He picked up the shard of glass Jarvis had dropped and stabbed him in the eye. Then he wouldn't stop punching him until someone pulled him off.
That's all she would tell you before wandering off humming that same tune that had been stuck in your head.
Jarvis must have planned it after whatever happened yesterday between the two of them. How stupid could he have been?
Despite your best efforts, Dibs shooed you off every time you tried to get into medbay with threats of upping your dose.
The next two days are spent on edge. Dibs gives no information and tells everyone to continue as normal. Ettore is still in medbay but you know he's awake from the thousands of times you purposefully walk by to get a glimpse of him.
Days were hard to count up in space but by the time Dibs came to give you all new information it had been a week since everything happened.
Jarvis was in a coma most likely due to a head injury. Ettore survived and was healing nicely. Dibs went on to say she knew Jarvis started the fight. Ettore was still being punished considering he had gone too far and would be on lockdown for one more week as punishment.
On the fourth day of that additional week, Dibs wakes you up with a light slap to the arm.
"Come with me." Tired and annoyed you shove the covers off of you and follow after her. As you walk by you look into the other room and see Ettore craning his neck to look at you, his face drowsy and drugged out.
She walks you to med bay and unlocks the door then closes it behind you as you step in.
You look behind you confused as you see her walk away without saying another word. You're about to call after her but then you hear the faintest whisper of your name. You turn around to see Jarvis looking in your direction.
His left eye was wrapped in cloth, the rest of his face still healing from the bruises. His nose was bandaged as well and you could only assume it was broken.
You walk over and take the seat next to his bed. His eye would close every now and then before they would pop open again. He didn't look good and despite him being alive now you knew he would probably die soon. Either succumbing to his injuries or Ettore would come and finish the job.
"S-sorry." He chokes the words out. He sees the look of confusion on your face. What was he sorry for. "I left you behind. I sh-should have taken you with me. I p-anicked."
You sigh as you understand what he's talking about. For the longest time, you wanted this conversation. You watch as he struggles to speak again. You shush him and bring the cup of water next to his lips, helping him sip through the straw before placing the cup back in its spot.
"I meant what I said. I wanted us to get away after it all. I fucked everything up...managed to get away. I was in the clear but the guilt was eating me alive." He opened his hand wanting to hold yours. You place yours in his and watch as he brings your knuckles to his lips.
"It's ok Jarvis. I for-"
"It's not ok." He cuts you off. "I shouldn't have dragged you with me in the first place." He sighs. "I had a cousin of mine in the same prison as you. She told me you were taking some deal. So, I turned myself in and they offered me the same thing. I took it knowing you would be here. I came for you."
Your heart flutters at his words. Your brain is wracked with thoughts. Would Ettore do the same for you? Give up the chance of staying on earth for you? Jarvis was in the clear, he could have taken that money and ran off and lived his best life. But he gave it all up just so he could be with you again.
"Ok, that's enough. Let's go." Dibs snaps you out of your thoughts. You give Jarvis a quick kiss with promises to come back.
While leaving you knock over a tray of stuff which Dibs curses you for as she cleans it up. She shoves you out of the office and walks you back to your bunk before heading off to her bed. In the dark room, you grip the key you snagged off her desk.
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The next day goes by ever so slowly. Everything feels like it's being dragged on. In your downtime, you visit Ettore who seems still too drugged up to even say anything but he does his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch you.
You feel relieved when nighttime finally comes. You listen to the hum of the ship as you wait until you think everyone has gone off to bed. When you finally feel as though everyone's asleep you retrieve the key you shoved in the seams of your mattress and slip off your bed quietly walking towards med bay.
You unlock the door and step inside slowly closing the door behind you. Taking back the seat next to Jarvis' bed you gently brush his hair out of his face. It takes a couple minutes before he finally opens his eyes and looks at you.
You're reading the chart next to his bed. Catching up on everything Dibs hadn't told you.
"Not good to read your loved one's chart." You smile and put the chart back in its spot.
"How are you feeling?" You hold his hand.
"Like im dying." Though he has a smile on his face one doesn't reach yours. After reading his chart and Dibs' notes you know that even she doesn't see any progress. "Come on. Lighten up."
"Not funny." You gently rub your fingers over his hand.
"...I want to talk to you about something." You straighten up and nod. "It's about Ettore." You sigh already over whatever he's about to say. "Hey. Drop the attitude. I may have one eye but I can still see your brattiness."
His other hand grabs something from under the covers before he flips your hand over and places something in your palm. It was a syringe.
"It's a strong agent. Can stop the heart. Got it off Dibs." You stare at him in disbelief. "He's dangerous. And you're the only one who could get close enough to him to administer it. Please, it's for your and all the other women's safety."
Was he being fucking serious?! He wants you to kill Ettore...
"You really think you can convince her to kill me?" Everything freezes as you hear his voice. You look at Jarvis's face which is filled with fear. You turn around and see Ettore standing in the doorway.
You stand up as he walks in locking the door behind him.
"Ettore don't-"
"You're no good for her. I've read your file." You tell Jarvis to shut up but he doesn't listen. "She deserves better than degenerate trash."
You could literally see the anger radiating off Ettore.
"She ran from you and came to me. While you were rotting away I was fucking her." God you wished he would shut the fuck up.
"Jarvis that's enou-"
"No, it's not. Don't spare his feelings. Tell him how much you loved it. How many nights we spent together, my dick buried deep in you. He got locked up searching for the real thing not even knowing you were too busy getting your back blown out to worry about him."
Ettore started walking over and you stepped in front of him placing your hands on his chest.
"Please...don't." He looked down at you and ran his thumb over your lips as the other hand came to rest on your hip.
"Get away from her." Jarvis was seething as he watched Ettore touch you.
"He thinks he owns you, love" Ettore smirks as he turns you around bringing your back right up against him. He tilts your head to the side. "He thinks he knows you." He brings his lips to your neck gently biting the area then soothing the burn with his tongue. "The fucking idiot can't even see how every part of you belongs to me."
He pulls your head back by your hair to which you wince.
"Let go of her." Though Jarvis wasn't restrained whatever nighttime sedatives Dibs was giving him kept him weak enough that he couldn't muscle up the strength to even sit up.
Ettore laughs mockingly at his sad attempt. He watches Jarvis struggle as his hand comes around and dips under your sleep shorts. He nibbles on your ear as he runs a finger through your folds.
"She's already wet for me." You can feel him smile. "I wonder. How many times did she have to fake an orgasm for you? Or imagine it was me fucking her to get her through the night?"
His finger circles lazily around your clit. his other hand coming up to rest on the side of your neck, his thumb slipping your mouth to pacify your moans.
"You don't know the first thing about her. You don't know how she likes it rough. How she will squirm and shy away but in reality she wants more. Her favourite position, angle, even all her dirty little kinks." He slowly slips two fingers in. "You were a distraction, a way for her to try and forget me." His fingers curl right into that lovely spot, teasing it. "But don't worry. I'll show you how much my girl loves me."
Ettore pushes you forward laying you against the bed over Jarvis' legs. Too far out of his reach for him to try and get Ettore off you.
He wastes no time pulling your shorts and his own down. He gives himself a few tugs and swipes the head of his cock through your folds. A shiver runs up his spine.
Months. Months he had begged whatever higher power there was that he could find his way back in between your legs again and it was finally happening. And despite him wanting to just fuck you like he used to there would be time for that later. Now? Well, right now he has a point to prove.
"Beg for it slut." His hand comes down on your ass hard earning him a whimper. He turns your head so you are looking in Jarvis' direction. His face is solemn as he looks down at you.
You want to feel bad, you really do. But the excitement at finally getting fucked the way you needed to was all too much.
Another hard slap accross your ass.
"You left me and thought you could replace me?" Another slap. "Do you know how badly I missed you? I know she missed me too." You feel just the tip slip past your folds. "Come on. Don't make her wait any longer."
You give Jarvis a sorry look.
"Please..." You feel the sting of another slap in the same spot.
"You know that's not what I want." He watches the handprint on your ass with a smile on his face.
"Please. Please fuck me Ettore. I need i-" You're cut off by the feeling of Ettore shoving himself fully inside you hitting your cervix effortlessly.
He keeps your head pushed down as the other rests in the dip in your back. The memories of the night before you left flooded your mind.
His pace is relentless and rough. You bite down on your lip probably drawing blood just to keep your moans from being too loud.
"Left without saying goodbye. Didn't even give me a chance. But don't worry, we're together again. And you can't leave this time."
You're practically drooling and crying on Jarvis' leg from how good this all feels. You open your eyes and look up at him. He's staring at your face and your body being brutalized by Ettore.
"You see Travis?" Ettore smirks as Jarvis glares at him. "See how her body responds to me? See how she arches just because she wants me deeper, if only you could feel how she spasms around me begging for my cum. Tell him you want it love."
He leans down and licks a bit of sweat off your back slowing his thrusts down and kissing his way down your spine.
"Tell him how much you love it." His nose rests next to your neck as he breathes in your scent. Something he had gone way too long without. You feel his hand snake around the two of you as he comes to pinch your clit. "Tell him." You wince and try to squirm away but he has you pressed tightly against the bed.
"I- I want it ssoo bad. So fucking good." You're rewarded by Ettore as he rolls his hips. He lifts you up slightly and wraps his arm around your neck so your head rests in the cook. One thing Ettore always took advantage of was your height difference. it made it easier for him to move you around like his own personal sex doll.
He squeezes ever so slightly, not enough to restrict your airflow but enough for you to feel some pressure. He kisses the side of your face.
"Good girl. Don't worry I'm gonna give it to you. Gonna show Jarvis how it's done and your gonna cum real hard for me okay?"
You mewl incoherent words back, too fucked out to keep talking. He stays deep in you only moving enough so he can keep hitting your G-spot repeatedly. His other hand comes around to circle your clit.
"Come on baby. Cum for me. Cum for me so I know you're sorry for leaving. I'll forgive you if you cum all over my dick." You lock eyes with Jarvis, it's only now you see the obvious print of his cock under the covers, clearly hard from what he's watching. "Be my good slut and cum."
And that's all it takes. Ettore holds you up as your knees give in and your body shakes. He coos in your ear but doesn't stop until he empties himself balls deep. Ettore kisses the side of your face muttering words of "good girl" and "my baby".
He helps you put your shorts back on and turns you around pulling you into a passionate kiss. His eyes watch Jarvis who stares, jealousy behind his pupils. Ettore pulls away and smiles down at you.
"You're gonna be good for me, you're gonna go back to your bunk and go to sleep. I'll take care of this." Your heart sinks as you understand his words but you know there's no arguing with him. Either he will do this with you in the room or with you gone. "Go on."
You look back one last time at Jarvis who now looks terrified.
"Wait! Please don't...call for help!" Jarvis pleads with you but Ettore already knows you won't listen to him you turn back around facing your back to him. "Fuck! I was good to you!"
You step on your toes and kiss Ettore on the cheek before going around him to leave.
You hear Jarvis' pleas for you to not leave him alone. He begs for you to listen about how sorry he is, and how much he loves you.
But no one will love you as much as Ettore.
Fuck Love
No one would ever adore you like Ettore does. And he's all you need.
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A/N: Again sorry this took me so long to get out to you guys! I am back now and I have SOO many ideas for Ewanverse!
But it's finally over!! I actually loved this ending! And I feel so confident about uploading this so I hope you guys love it too!
Fuck Love Taglist: @scarletbedlam @fan-goddess @qyburnsghost @sadgirlelenora @dixie-elocin
Gen Taglist: @valeskafics @thought--bubble
If you'd like to be added to any of my taglist please let me know!
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naompspsps · 14 hours
Text
How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 8
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Part 7 (Ruggie, Rook & Jack)
Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.
Ft. Riddle x GN!Reader
A/n: I love riddle.
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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Riddle
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He would be strict about it then a few seconds later, or, if he sees the assignment and the notebook filled with scribbles along with remembering awhile back, that's when he'll realize you've been hard on yourself over these.
He'd be angry, but also guilty? He didn't make the assignment, but something in him just felt guilty. To help himself feel better, he can just let you rest. He can't help but think about the scribbles in the notebook, they all make sense and the correct answer but, why on the wonderland do teachers suffocate students like that.. Also, he doesn't know he should say sweet dreams or sleep well 😭
As you hear Riddle speaking, you write in your notebook. You wonder, What kind of questions are these? Where do you remember learning about it more than the one in class? Books, sure, but which one? So many questions are gathering up your thoughts of what to do for the final question of the assignment. By automatic, you fall asleep, your head falling on Riddle's shoulder. "And For- Huh? What do you think you're doing?" He looks at you, your hand sneaking up to his sleeves and tugging it between your fingers. "Don't tug my sleeve like that, You're not the King of-..." Riddle cuts his sentence, seeing your notebook.
He's not supposed to be doing this. He takes your notebook from your lap and looks at the writings. It's messy but it's probably just your vision getting blurry. All of them seem right but.. "What's not right is the point that you didn't take your rest over these.." Riddle whispers under his breath. "The teachers never did anything about it?" He asks himself. He closes the notebook, putting it aside. Riddle sighs. "I suppose an hour rest will be fine by me. All you have to do is have a nice dream. It's a requirement." He adds, back to reading a book about History.
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Author's End Note: Well i died yesterday, I just had somewhere to go with my friends 💀 Anyways IM DONEEE, i dont know if i did all the characters but I will check 🌟🌟
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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