#you bet your ass i will switch to mercy and just shoot and sit down and throw out the

[into-crazy]

My thoughts on J with a s/o that plays video games

I was inspired by @loveletterstoledger​ and their wonderful hc's on gaming. I just wanted to share my own concepts. I based and wrote this from my own experiences- from what games I like to play and how I play. This ended up unnecessarily long, but what can I say? I have no regrets. Anyways, enjoy my fellow(and non-fellow) gamers💘

Warnings- Cursing & brief mentions of violence

There were many things about you that never cease to amaze and humor Joker. Like the time he found you on the couch, intently staring at the flat screen with a game controller in your hands.

You loved playing video games, especially the graphic and violent ones. Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Mortal Kombat, Twisted Metal, House of the Dead: Overkill Extended cut, and Street Fighter were a few you often played on two different consoles. Especially online where you could play with/against others.

Without bragging, you've become a fairly proficient player. Playing them over some time, always finding ways to improve your skills. The more you played, the better you got.

J never shared your interest in such games simply because he lives them out in real life on the daily. Gunfire, explosions, and violence are already apart of his dangerous lifestyle. So why waste his time watching or acting it out on a TV screen when he could go out and do all of that himself?

However, that didn't stop him from watching you play sometimes. Whether he was sitting next to you on the sofa fiddling with his knives, or glancing over while he'd work on some wild contraction on your kitchen table.

"Think you're good at that, huh? How about coming with me tonight? I'll give ya that same gun an' we can ah, test that out." He'd slyly remark, laughing when you’d agree to take him up on it.

It amused him to see how competitive you'd get, so invested in the game you were currently playing. Which you were quite good at, he thought to himself.

He didn’t peg you for as the “gamer” type, and he found it interesting that you were into that violent stuff. Then again, you were with him, so it didn’t come off as much of a surprise. 

He especially found entertaining the frustration you exude when things weren't working well for you in the session/lobby. Whether it was lag or you getting your ass kicked.

Now you're not much of a sore loser, in fact you're actually a chill and clean player. Although, you do have your moments. Muttering and sometimes even shouting profanities aloud like, "Idiot!" // "Damn it." // "Fuck me!"

"What? Here, now?" Would J playfully tease you, snickering when you'd shoot him an annoyed glare. "Sheesh, you're rather feisty, bunny. Gettin' all worked up over a measly game."

"Yeah, one that I'm losing!"

The ones he likes to watch you play often are GTA and COD. At times he was helpful, and other times he was purposely obnoxious.

"Watch the health bar." // "Reload the gun." // "Look to the left. Shoot! He's right there!" // "Ah, see? Had ya just listened to me, ya would have won. I would've."

"It's because I was listening to you that I got my ass whooped." You'd argue back. "I'd like to see you have a go at it! If you're so confident in that statement, then prove it. Play me a round."

That was a clear challenge, and J does enjoy himself a challenge. A wide grin splits his painted cheeks, scars bunching up in genuine amusement as he'd cackle. "You ah, sure about that toots? Because, I'd have no problem in beating you at your own game."

But you paid no mind, already handing him the spare controller, donning a confident smile of your own. "Postive."

You set it up- COD one-on-one Team Deathmatch, twenty minutes. Player with the most kills at the end wins. You briefed him of the remote buttons and special moves. He chose the map, and you started.

The first half, you took it easy. Let him ease into the game. Right off the bat was he running around the map and shooting wildly. But J was a fast learner, he quickly got the hang of it.

"I'll bite, this is a little fun.."

After killing you a couple times, he became too cocky. "Come on, doll. I've seen ya play better than that. Go hard, huh?"

He asked for it. Switching back into gamer mode, you showed no mercy. Headshots, sniper shots, melee attacks, you name it. Soon racking up kill after kill. Now, it was your turn to laugh and J didn't like that.

His cackling stopped and he grew irritated. Hands tensing around the controller, you thought he was going to break it. Frustrated growls left him each time your count went up. He was losing, and he hated to lose. Which ended up being the case once the round was over.

"I don't like this game." He grumpily mumbles, carelessly tossing the controller to the side.

"Awe come on J, don't be such a sore loser." You'd sprinkle salt on the wound, mimicking his tone from earlier back against him- "It's just a game."

That point on, he made it his goal to beat you. Or at least give you good competition. But mostly just to beat you so he could have the satisfaction in winning. Joker had to win.

When he wasn't busy terrorizing the city, messing with Bats, drawing up a plan, or spending quality time with you- he was on your console. Playing against others online, just how you would. Practicing, getting better.

You've actually walked in on him a few times, his focused eyes glued to the screen. It was a funny sight to see, and you wondered if that's how you looked when you played.

One evening you came home to find a large, opened box containing a bunch of game controllers on your table. "Um J, where did you get these?"

"I found 'em." He stole them. Off to his side there were already two broken ones. "Oh- which reminds me," he hands you a brand new copy of your signature controller. "I sort of uh, used yours." In translation, he got mad and broke it.

Once he knew he mastered his skills, which didn't take him long, he challenged you to a proper rematch.

You gladly accepted, thinking this oughta be good. And no doubt it would be, you've watched him, he's going to be a real competitor.

"What do ya say we take it up a notch, hm bunny?" To make things more interesting, Joker thought it would be fun to raise the stakes and you couldn't agree more. Wagering a bet of whatever the winner desires. You each laid yours down and finally agreed.

Everything was set up the same as last time. While the screen was loading, you looked towards J who held a half smirk. He was gonna play dirty, you were sure of it. Anticipating it even. Sometimes, it's fun playing dirty. He always made it such.

You grinned, offering words of encouragement. "Good luck J, may the odds be in your favor~"

I was in a writing rut, and this was really fun to do. I hope I didn’t write him too out of character, if I did.

#into-crazy #ledger joker #heath ledger joker #ledger joker imagine #l!joker #ledger!joker #tdk #the dark knight #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader

[mrsbhandari]

Enemy

A/N: HI!! I think we’re all horny after that new ds chap with oliver so enjoy!!

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT, slapping, sir kink, hair pulling

Summary: Eden is captured by Oliver, but he has different ideas for punishment.

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Was he trying to kill the captain of her ship? Yes. 

Did his hair still look silky, falling out of its bun? Did his arms look perfect, muscles obvious through his uniform as he slashed his sword? Did she want to lick the sweat that was dripping down his exposed neck? God, yes.

Then, a brute from behind her grabbed her wrists, prompting a yell that had Oliver easily stabbing the distracted Edward. Well, shit. The pirates were captured, but Eden gave Oliver a desperate look. She wanted him to recognize her. 

She needed him to remember. 

Edward was none the wiser next to her as he struggled to get out of the ropes the soldiers had tied, but Eden remained still with her eyes trained on the lieutenant. Flashes of their night together played in her mind, making her face flush with the memories of his bright smile toward her, his warm skin under her fingers, his soft lips on her own. Oliver’s cold eyes met her own, but she couldn’t see any hint of recognition in the light brown filled with hatred for her. 

One last try. “Please, Oliver.” A sharp smack to her head by the guard holding her made her wince, but just before she closed her eyes, she saw something in his. A flicker of sympathy was replaced as quickly as it had formed with cold indifference toward her. In two steps, he stood directly in front of her, hand shooting out to wrap around her chin and force her to look up at him. Edward struggled against his binds. 

“Don’t fucking touch her, scum!” he yelled, spit flying from his lips as the crew member behind him struggled to hold him back. Oliver didn’t spare him a glance, opting to give her a cruel smile. This situation, as much as she hated it, sent heat to her core. The pure power in his eyes and fingertips had her dripping for him, aching to be tied up in a different position. She subconsciously pushed her thighs together, a small action that no one would notice if they weren’t looking for it. 

Oliver was looking for it. 

“Take the two men down to the dungeon. I’ll handle this prisoner.” Oliver’s voice was even and cold, and she struggled to hold in a whimper as his grip tightened on her chin.

“Are you sure, sir? We can--”

“Was that a question?” Oliver’s sharp glare swung to his men who were shifting uncomfortably at the thought of separating the prisoners in their grips.

“We don’t want them to have any chance of--” 

“Of what, fools? Escape? Conspiration? Her and Edward are stronger together, so separating them is our best bet to keep them on the ship,” he barked, gaze returning to hers. His fingernails drew blood and his lips curled into a snarl. “I think I can get some information out of this one about her captain, as well.”

Edward shot Eden a glance as he and Henry were led away, a look that communicated the true pain he was in from both his wound and from being taken away from her, wincing with every step. She gave a small nod his way and turned her attention back to the lieutenant. 

“Sir,” she spat, but he only gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She saw a glint of amusement in the brown, which only confused her more. What is he thinking? Her breath caught as he leaned down to her ear, lips brushing the lobe. 

“You’ll be screaming that soon enough.” A shiver ran up her spine, sending tingles down to her fingertips. He drew back and turned her around so he was holding onto her bound wrists with her back to him. Still close to her, Eden could feel the front of his uniform pants and the erection he was hiding under the fabric. A rush of dirty thoughts clouded her mind, almost tripping her as he walked her below deck. With each step, her hands brushed him, drawing out shuddering groans under his breath. Secretly, she smiled to herself for being able to tease him like this. She was guided into a large room with a bed on one wall and a desk against another, but she didn’t have much time to appreciate the décor before she was turned and pushed with her nose to the wood of the door. 

“Pirate.” The word bit into her skin, deliciously painful as he undid the ropes around her wrists. She found herself missing the burn but her mind went blank as he pressed his hips to her ass, giving her a good feel of his endowment. He stepped away, allowing her free movement about the cabin as he walked to the bed. “You’re a pirate?”

“I--yes.” She had briefly thought about telling him a lie, that she was captured and forced, but she knew that he would’ve seen right through her. 

“So that day in the town--”

“Meant the world to me and I regret nothing.” She closed the distance between them and kneeled in front of him, dropping her face to fall into his line of sight, previously aimed at the floor. 

“I...told you. About who I was. I felt bad about lying to you so I told the truth. Why didn’t you return the favor?” 

“It would’ve been dangerous. I couldn’t endanger the crew.” His gaze hardened, but he gave her a curt nod. 

“Okay.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Eden? Or did you lie about that, too?”

“I didn’t lie to you at all, I just didn’t tell you about my work. My name is Eden, I like rum, and I have real feelings for you, Oliver.” At that, his eyes snapped up to hers, softening at the confession that seemed to electrify the air around them. 

“I...have feelings for you, too. You’ve been in my head since that day, and I can’t seem to get you out.” Despite his previous authoritative air that drove her crazy, he now seemed anxious and bashful, a blush splashed across his tan cheeks and full lips pulled back into a small smile. He reached a hand up to cup her chin in a sweeter echo of his entrapment on the deck. 

“What have I been doing in those thoughts of yours, hm?” Eden’s voice dropped to a low whisper, whimpering freely as his grip tightened to a more accurate imitation of her capture. A dangerous gleam appeared in his eyes, obvious as to his intentions. 

“Why, I’ve already got you right where I want you,” he spoke, voice vicious and deep. His eyes dropped to Eden’s knees on the floor, her head between his closed knees. Noting the position, he spread his legs for her, guiding her mouth closer to his thighs. Just before she began to drool, he shoved her face back, noticing the way the action seemed to make her more desperate, panting hard. “Strip, girl.” 

She quickly began fumbling with her billowy blouse before he held a hand up and  tsked her rush. “Please, provide me entertainment.” He seemed so... cold. Uncaring. It only made her more eager. 

“Yes, Oliver.” He tsked again. “Sorry. Sir.” He let out a small groan and clamped his mouth shut, waving a hand again to let her resume. Eden slowed down considerably, carefully discarding each piece of fabric adorning her body and even folding each garment, bending and moving so as to maximize his view. She felt vulnerable under his gaze, like he could reach down to the knife in his boot and throw it at her any time, permanently ending any pleasure he was chasing with this show she was giving. Her face was red and hot at the thought, rubbing her thighs together to give a slight release of the pressure building up in her stomach. She was acutely aware of every possible thing entering her senses; the hard wood beneath her bare feet, the quick beating of her heart in her veins, the deep breathing of the man sitting on the bed across from her. It bordered on too much, but she suddenly heard the creaks of Oliver standing from the furniture and the loud steps of his boots on the floor as he walked over to her. 

“Sir?” He stopped mid-step, left boot still raised. His eyes were closed and he turned his head slightly, trying to tame his instincts telling him to completely ruin her. She could clearly see his conflict and felt her own breathing quicken, aching to be taken by the enemy. “Please, sir. I need you.” 

Something inside him seemed to snap and he rushed forward, slamming her into the door and silencing her in a bruising kiss, fingers pushing and pulling at every inch of skin he could reach. “Eden…” he breathed, lips switching course to run down the exposed skin of her neck, wanting to mark her up for every one of her crew members to see. 

It was selfish and they both knew it, but the thought only made her more enthusiastic, gasping as she pressed his head harder against her, not-so-subtly saying she wanted more. Her hand moved to tangle into his blonde hair that had come untied from its bun in the chaos. Wanting to gain at least a little bit of control back, she tugged his hair hard, relishing the loud moan that was ripped from his throat and the way his head fell back easily to reveal his throat, unblemished skin begging for her to ruin him. She gladly obliged, attaching to the tan flesh and suckling enough to bruise, feeling his Adam’s apple bob against her cheek as he gasped and moaned at the combination of her hard pulling of his hair and skin.

“You taste so good, sir.” The term dragged him out of his haze and he stepped back, holding her shoulder to keep her away so he could get a better look at her naked body. Her lips were red and kiss-swollen, and her breasts looked perfect as they rose and fell with her hard pants. Her eyes were half-lidded, but they watched him with rapt attention when he pulled her forward and sat on the bed once more, guiding her hands up the lapels of his uniform.

“Want more?” he asked, prompting her to grab his coat and fumble with the buttons. He liked that she was at his mercy, desperate to do things just for him, and let Eden try her hardest to undress him through her hazy state of mind. “By all means, take your time.”

“Asshole,” she muttered, but he creased his brow and looked down at her. 

“What is that word?” Widening her eyes, she realized her mistake and blinked. When was that word first used? He can’t know my secret. “Slang from your region?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Is it slang for sir?” She had managed to get his shirt off, but he stopped her hands on his pants.

“I’m sorry, sir.” She let out a sigh of relief as he nodded and let her resume, the brief moment of panic sobering her enough to be able to fully undress him quicker. He stood before her, completely naked, and her breath caught in her throat. 

She never really paid attention in history class, and she of course knew that her textbooks weren’t going to cover the dicks of ancient sailors, but good lord. His cock was fully hard and resting comfortably just beneath his navel, and she felt her mouth simultaneously go dry and salivate at the sight. He lifted a thumb to swipe at her bottom lip, collecting a drop of drool that had gathered there. She was kneeling on the floor and looking up at him, which only accentuated the power he had over her. Her face burned with embarrassment, but he only gave her a cool smile. 

“Well?” he asked, an expectant gaze falling on her. Eden sprung into action and gripped him in her hand, giving a tentative lick around his head that had him grabbing at her head. He pushed her further down his shaft, barely able to hold his hips back from thrusting at the sight of her pretty pink lips wrapped around him. “Oh...yes.” 

Feeling her slick running down her thighs, she reached a hand down to her clit, aching for any sort of pressure. She ran circles around her skin, moaning around his cock, but he abruptly pulled out and reached down to rip her hand away. 

“Did I say you could pleasure yourself, girl?” he growled, only making her drip more for him. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up, hand nearly bruising her arm as he tossed her onto the mattress. The blankets were soft under her stomach, a stark contrast to the rough hand that landed a slap on her ass. She let out a yelp that quickly melted into a moan when his hands returned to her skin, kneading and massaging to soothe the angry rouge. “Want more?” She only nodded, but he grabbed her hair and dragged her up, mouth close to hers. Eden’s back arched, pressing her into the bed while she turned her head to face him. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He let go of her hair, letting her fall back to the bed and landing another smack to her skin on her untouched cheek. The slightly harder slap ripped a moan from her throat. 

“Please, sir, I need...please--” 

“What do you need?”

“I need you, sir! Please!” 

“That’s right, beg for it.” He released a haughty laugh, one that let her know who was in control here, before turning her over so her front was exposed to him. He would never get used to how beautiful Eden was, and he took a beat to sweep his gaze over her body, trying to commit it to memory for when she would no longer be his to take over and over again. The twinge of disappointment made a home in his heart, but he shut the door in favor of jerking her hips forward to meet his. The rough movement made her breasts rock enticingly, and his eyes trained on them for a split second before pushing his cock into her, letting out a shuddering groan when he was fully sheathed. Due to his size, he already hit her sweet spot, making her moan loudly as she gripped the blanket under her. 

“More, sir,” she breathed, rocking her hips to get him to move inside her. She felt his dick twitch against her walls and her breath hitched, fusing into a groan as he took the hint and began thrusting into her. He felt dizzy with her walls clenching around him, both of them chasing the ultimate pleasure only brought on by the other. Her hips were sure to have bruises by the end of this and the thought brought him closer to the edge. She’s going to have my marks all over her, he thought, pace hastening and volume of his moans increasing, Edward won’t be able to look at her without seeing my marks. 

“Eden...I’m going to--” he gasped out, trying to warn her, but she grabbed a hand and moved it down to her clit, knowing how to achieve the last nudge over the edge for herself. “What are you--”

“Rub circles there,” she instructed, barely coherent as she moved his fingers under her own how she liked it. So guys have never known about the clit. He followed her commands and all thought was abruptly pushed from her mind by the stars exploding in her eyesight. “There, yes, yes, Oliver!” 

She clenched around him, crying out unintelligibly at the waves of pleasure washing over her. Oliver quickly followed, coating her walls in his cum as he shuddered and let out shaky groans. He continued rubbing her as she twitched underneath him, milking his own orgasm from the feeling. His mouth was open when she recovered and opened her eyes, taking in the sight of his shining skin and messy hair that stuck to his forehead. 

“Beautiful…” she muttered, prompting him to snap open his eyes and give her a little shy smile. “What? I’m right.” 

“You’re beautiful, too. That night at the tavern, I--” He was cut off by a loud pounding on the door. “Who dares interrupt me while I’m interrogating a prisoner?” His angry bellow took her by surprise, but she widened her eyes in fear as the knob turned. Luckily, Oliver had half a mind to lock it. “Tell me!” 

“It’s the captain of Poseidon’s Revenge! I’ve come for Eden, you son of a bitch!”

#distant shores #distant shores choices #choices distant shores #oliver x mc #oliver distant shores #ds #playchoices #fanfic #ns*fw text #n*sfw #smut

[foxtophat]

in chapter 3, nick brings john some food and tries to interrogate him, but it doesn’t go quite as planned. john sure is acting weird! i mean, weirder than usual. i mean, usual for john, anyway. i mean... well, let’s just say that nick is as in control as he can be in today’s update!

WHEW i really like this chapter actually, i had fun editing and writing it and all that. soooo i’ve been doing weekly updates but for the sake of consistency i’m going to be changing that to a bi-weekly schedule instead. gives me more time to flesh out these thinner chapters before i get them out to you, the viewer!

speaking of viewers, DAMN thank you guys for the warm ass welcome for this story! i’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my self-indulgent mess. i’ve had so much fun working on it by myself but i’m having even more fun now that i know other people like it!

hey, i’ll slap the text of this chapter below the cut so you don’t have to go off-site if you don’t feel like it. if you read, please consider reblogging, as that’s the best way for me to get this update out there :) otherwise, just like, have a good day and junk!

John is, unfortunately, still alive when Nick goes to check on him. He even seems to be aware of his surroundings, unsurprised when Nick opens the door and downright guarded as Nick approaches him with a plate of vegetables and some smoked venison. The role reversal doesn't sit right at all with Nick, but at least he knows he's in control of the situation for now. Give the bastard a couple of nights of good rest and John will no doubt attempt to get back on top, but tonight he's too sick to do anything but cringe away as Nick unceremoniously drops into a crouch and drops the plate in his general direction.

Tense, with his fingers twisting in the blanket below him, John rasps, "What's this?"

Nick frowns. "Food," he snaps, trying not to let his own rudeness bother him. He doesn't have to feel guilty being short with John — it's fucking John . Nick should be mad at himself for not being more of a dick! Being in a position that would earn a normal person sympathy doesn't mean squat when the guy is a murdering, violent psychopath wearing the thin veneer of a human being! He doesn't deserve anything Nick gives him, besides a swift and merciless kick to the temple.

Nick exhales heavily and reluctantly adds, "You look like you need it."

It's only once Nick rises to his feet again that John reaches for the plate, dragging it into his lap and proving Nick right as he quickly begins to inhale his food. It's alarming to watch John cramming jerky and vegetables into his mouth hand-over-fist, and despite himself he warns, "Slow down, you're gonna choke."

John stops eating like a switch has been flipped, dropping his hands to the plate as though he's been physically restrained. He doesn't say anything, just twists his fingers against the rim and stares at Nick's boots.

Okay.

This, uh. This is weird.

Nick feels his unease chewing at his nerves. "Well?" he snaps, trying to bluster his way through it.

"Well, what ?" John asks in return. There's an edge of annoyance in his voice, an old-world relic of John's normally nasty attitude, but it's not enough to reassure Nick.

"You know what. You're supposed to be dead . Rook put you down almost a decade ago, and I dunno if you noticed, but there's been a nuclear apocalypse since then. There's no way I'm putting you in your grave before you tell me how you got this far in the first place."

It's a lie, but the important part is that Nick sounds tough when he says it.

John clenches his jaw in response and finally meets Nick's glare with his own steely gaze. "They shot me," he says, his ragged voice still managing to scrape together enough attitude to sound vaguely condescending. He touches his gut, fingers prodding gently. "Then, the deputy left me for dead. I assume they returned to your welcoming arms."

Ugh, it is so fucking weird to hear John's passive-aggressive bullshit. Eight years apparently wasn't enough time for him to get over his nasty infatuation, if he's still bitter about Rook picking the Ryes over his own family.

"All of us were happy you were gone," Nick says, unwilling to indulge in John's creepy pity-lust for the deputy. "So, what then? How did you find that bunker? How'd you even know it was there ?"

John picks up a piece of jerky, bending it between his thumb and index finger. "It was my backup plan."

"What, in case the Cult backfired on you?" Nick scoffs loudly as John silently pops the piece of meat into his mouth. "I bet your brother would be real pleased to know you tried to weasel your way out of his prophecy."

John chews and swallows. "I doubt Joseph survived the Deputy at close range. I doubt I'll survive the second round myself. Where... is the Deputy, anyway? Shouldn't they be here casting down judgment, too?"

Nick sets his jaw. "I don't know," he says, folding his arms over his chest. "Nobody knows. They went to confront Joseph, but with all the Bliss in the air... I don't know. We lost track of them in the chaos. If they've had access to a radio, they haven't used it to contact anyone."

If John has any insight into what might've happened, he doesn't share it. He picks at a few pieces of carrot but it seems like he's lost his appetite again. "I see," he says, too pensively for someone who seems half out of their gourd.

"So, you survived being shot down, crawled into a hole with a gut full of buckshot, survived that , and then... what?"

"You saw what," John sighs. He looks tired — all this talking must be wearing him out. It's hard to believe John Seed is too weak to hold a conversation, considering how hard it used to be to get him to shut the fuck up. Nick tries not to spend too much time thinking about it.

"You want me to believe that you spent eight years just sitting there ?" Nick asks. The disbelief in his voice doesn't come close to the incredulity he's feeling. There's no way that John spent the last eight years in a quiet limbo. Hell, Nick's bunker life wouldn't make for riveting television or anything, but he still did more than exist . Even if he was on his own, John had to have some kind of — of backup backup plan, a plot to manipulate the nuclear apocalypse in his favor, something . Right?

"What do you want me to say? The bunker was lacking in entertainment. I was trapped alone, miles away from the Project, with nowhere near enough supplies. I was certain I would die before the first year was over, and from then on I assumed every day would somehow become my last. My being here is as much a surprise to you as it is to me."

He glances up, watching Nick's reaction with a wariness Nick isn't comfortable with. It's too much like a wounded dog, and John has to be playing some kind of angle to be using it.

"I had a radio, but no microphone," he says. "All I could do was listen."

Nick remembers what the radio channels were like for the first couple of months after the bombs dropped. Everyone going through every step of the grieving process over the world they'd known, screaming, begging, arguing, crying all the time. Lots of repentant Peggy idiots cursing Eden's Gate, even more innocent people sending out their last painful goodbyes. Kim would talk to them, sometimes, but for a while, it was safer to just leave the damned thing off.

"Eventually, the radio died," John mutters. "I thought it would be... better, somehow, being isolated. After all, that's how Joseph spoke to God, and I had a lot of questions that He might have answered."

"The last thing we need is another hallucinating prophet," Nick warns. He hopes John tries to sell him on some new-wave Josephism, though — he'd love to shoot the guy on principle and be done with everything. Boy, would that take a load of ethical weight off his back!

John's lips tighten wryly. "Apparently I don't possess the same qualities that made Joseph such an inviting disciple," he says. "I was alone. For... seven years, eight months, three days. Give or take."

"You keep a calendar down there?" Nick snaps, as if he and Kim hadn't quickly sorted time out themselves.

"I did," John replies, somewhat smugly. "Long enough to know when I ran out of supplies, at least. After that, it wasn't long before I had to leave the bunker. I couldn't... I couldn't take it anymore."

Nick waits for John to continue, but he doesn't. There must be more to it than that, Nick's sure of it, but John doesn't seem capable of handling the conversation.

John drops his line of sight to the pistol holstered at Nick's hip. He seems to be waiting for something.

"What happens now?" he asks, once whatever he's waiting for fails to happen. No doubt he expects Nick to brandish the gun in his face, to intimidate him or threaten him or... whatever. Shoot him, probably, because not even John Seed would be stupid enough to give himself clemency for all his crimes.

"Now?" Nick repeats. "Well, I guess that depends on you." He crouches down once more, sure that he's well out of John's grasp as he does so. He wants John to look him in the eye. "See, it's been a while, but I still really fuckin' hate you. After everything you've done, to me, my family, my home ... Honestly, I should've probably put you down the moment I recognized you."

John meets Nick's hard glare with the resolve of a condemned man. "Why didn't you?" he asks.

"Because I haven't had to kill anybody in nearly a decade, and y'know, I'd like to keep that streak." Nick jabs a finger at John, inwardly pleased when he recoils to avoid contact. " You're the one who came to Hope County looking for a fight. So I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet."

Nick figures he sounds pretty intimidating, but John doesn't seem moved by the indirect threat. Of course he isn't. The guy built half a religious movement out of his sadomasochism — he's not going to feel threatened by Nick, not even if he were holding a pair of pliers to his teeth. He doesn't even give Nick the satisfaction of asking what he means — he only stares and waits for Nick to hand down his sentence.

"First, we gotta see if you're gonna make it through the night," Nick says, gesturing towards the abandoned plate. "After that, I'm gonna put you to work. Kim and I, we got a list of things we need to get done. It's back-breaking manual labor, and you're gonna be the one whose back breaks." Nick rises to his feet, trying to seem tough when in reality, his knees are starting to ache, and he can't afford to throw one out over a show of force. "You do what you're told with no back-talking, and I guess we'll find a way to keep you fed."

"And if I don't?"

"I don't think you're in any position to refuse, jackass. Nobody else is going to think twice about shooting you around here. The cult, your followers, family, they're all dead and gone. Anyone left who knows your face is gonna want to smash it to bits, and they aren't going to be inclined to be as generous as Kim and I are being. So it's either this, or I throw you back in that bunker where you belong."

For a moment, Nick thinks that John might try to turn him down anyway. He hopes he does — it'd be nice to get to punch the guy without feeling guilty for hitting a seriously ill man. But John's pale face belies how desperate he is to avoid that bunker of his, and eventually he gives in with a slow, resigned nod.

"You're right," John replies, voice hoarse from exhaustion. "Joseph — the Project — it's all gone. And I..."

John trails off with a heavy, resigned sigh. He looks up at Nick through a thick clump of long, tangled hair that's fallen over his face. "I'm at your mercy," he finally says, dropping Nick's gaze immediately after as though he doesn't expect much mercy at all.

"What, that's it?" Nick asks, honestly fucking confounded at the lack of backtalk. He'd made a good argument, sure, but — what? "No arguing? No negotiating, no defending the cult? No trying to deflect blame?"

"What good would it do?" John replies. Despite everything, he manages to scrape together enough attitude to look unimpressed by Nick's entire deal. It's the first time since realizing John was alive that Nick feels a twinge of that old-fashioned irritation that used to make shooting John seem so appealing. "I have nothing. You've won, Nick. I hope you've been enjoying the prize."

"I ought to punch you," Nick snaps. "Lucky for you, I'd feel bad for giving you a beat-down in your sorry state." He nudges the plate with his boot, sliding it closer to John. "I'll be back with some water so you can clean yourself up. You stink enough to put me off my own dinner. Anything else, well..."

He gestures to the ratty, mildewy pile of junk that they've been collecting in the room, as if any of it could be useful. Broken picture frames, mouse-torn bedding, broken down cardboard boxes and more all piled innocently away in what was going to be Carmina's room. Looking at it fills Nick with a sense of profound sadness that he shoves right back down where it belongs.

"You can figure something out," he tells John, who doesn't seem capable of making another dig at Nick's new position as prison guard. Unwilling to be moved by John's labored breathing as he simply nods in return, Nick quickly about-faces, storming from the room with just enough anger to hide the retreat for what it is.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

[muselin]

"Bath Act"

Ichthys/Teorus

Request by: @commanderpepperpeach

Rating: E (xplicit) - for smut and some fluffy fluff

***

“Awww, look whatcha did now, Teo! You made him leave!”

Ichthys chuckled and pretended to pout when Huedhaut left the baths.

The three gods had been enjoying a relaxing soak that evening when the conversation had shifted to Huedhaut’s blossoming relationship with the reincarnated goddess of fate. Ichthys and Teorus had taken it upon themselves to act out their vision of how Hue and the goddess’s sexual encounter might go, with Ichthys playing the part of a teasing, assertive Hue and Teorus playing a blushing, bashful version of the goddess.

Seeing his friends fooling around naked, embracing each other as part of their game as they mocked him appeared to be sufficient for Hue to cut his bath short, and he left Ichthys and Teorus behind with a noticeable flush of embarrassment.

The two laughed and laughed, feeling even more victorious from having cracked Huedhaut’s suave, cool facade. Ichthys was the first to stop giggling as he settled against the edge of the bath and swished his arm in the water aimlessly, watching Teorus smile.

“You have such a lovely smile, goddess,” he grinned playfully at his golden-haired friend, “I’d sure love it if I were the source of it and not that bookworm, though.”

Teorus finally stopped laughing.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re jealous of Hue, Ikky?”

“Who? Me? Of course not!”

Ichthys pretended to be unfazed but in such a way that it was apparent he really was that little bit jealous. He reached out and twirled a lock of Teorus’s golden hair around his finger.

Grey eyes met honey in a dreamy gaze that made the bath feel that little bit steamier.

“You’re really jealous, huh?” Teorus asked teasingly.

“Maybe. Hue gets to work with you all day, gets to look at your gorgeous smile. I don’t get to see you until the day ends.”

“I call bullshit. You’ve skipped work toooo many times in the middle of the day to hang out in order for that to be true,” Teorus kept teasing.

“Haha, shoot, you got me,” Ichthys laughed. Soon though, his eyes captured Teorus’s again, the intention in them hard to miss.

“Someone seems eager tonight,” the God of Taurus quipped. He ran a hand up Ichthys’s tight abs, up to his chest, his fingers deliberately grazing his nipple.

“You know I can’t help it when you look like this,” Ichthys said quietly, a raspy tinge entering his usually clear voice.

“Mmm, like what?”

Ichthys loved getting a rise out of all the gods in the heavens but sometimes, Teorus was more than a match for him when the two were alone late at night, with no one else around. They couldn’t remember when this had started, probably one drunken evening after one of the big parties in the heavens. They’d woken up in Ichthys’s bed together and somehow nothing about it had seemed wrong.

“Like what, Ikky,” Teorus asked again, bringing Ichthys out of his thoughts.

“Naked… Wet… Inviting… With your cheeks tinged pink like this.”

With every word Ichthys waded a little bit closer to Teorus in the water, smiling seductively. Teorus didn’t shy away and stood up straight as he beamed his signature Prince-Charming smile at the God of Pisces.

“Aww, I bet you tell all the cute goldfish that,” he pretended to pout.

“You think I don’t mean it,” Ichthys raised his eyebrows.

“Prove it to me,” Teorus challenged, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Ichthys was silent as he stood in front of his friend. He reached over and his hands caressed Teorus’s lean, taut form, coming to rest on his hipbones. He rubbed the V-shaped slope Teorus’s hipbones made with his thumbs, following the inviting lines down to his manhood which rested beneath the water.

“You know I love these,” Ichthys said, the raspy tinge to his voice back again and this time Teorus knew it was lust.

“Oh yeah? What do you wanna do to them?”

Ichthys dropped to his knees in front of him and placed kisses up and down the ridges of his hipbones.

“This…,” he started trailing his tongue along them, “And this…,” he ran his hands up Teorus’s thighs, slowly, until he reached his quickly hardening cock. Ichthys ran his hand over the length of it and Teorus sighed softly, hardening further. Grinning mischievously, Ichthys leaned closer and replaced his hand with his tongue, slowly licking up and down Teorus’s shaft.

“Mmm… But Ikky… Mmn… I’ve been good today,” Teorus whined, shifting his hips towards his friend, trying to push himself between his lips.

“Mm, have you really,” Ichthys teased and flicked his tongue against head on Teorus’s cock. “I heard that you’ve only been granting the wishes of young pretty girls again.”

He stopped and teased Teorus, ever-so-lightly grazing the head of his cock with his tongue. “You need to be punished.”

Teorus whined, biting his lip as his hips bucked forward, blindly begging for relief.

“Pleeeease… What if I grant you a wish, hmm? Will you still punish me then?”

“A wish you say,” Ichthys pretended to ponder as he took Teorus’s hard member and began to stroke him, finally giving him some stimulation.

“Yes, anything you want–aah…” Teorus’s head fell back as a moan flew out from his lips; Ichthys had taken all of his cock in his mouth and was sucking him lightly.

“Anything I want?”

“Yes, just please don’t stop,” Teorus begged as Ichthys stroked his cock and massaged his balls with his other hand in tandem.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Ichthys said and without another word he took Teorus in his mouth again, sucking harder and following the motions his lips made up and down his shaft with his hand as he stroked. Ichthys hollowed his cheeks, sucking even more of Teorus in as he reached down to play with his balls again, this time his hand continuing lower as he massaged the skin beneath them.

“Ooooh heavens, Ikky, that feels so goood! Mmm…”

The sweet melody that was Teorus’s voice and his moans did nothing but spur Ichthys on further and he sped up, pleasuring the God of Taurus so eagerly that he felt himself growing hard as a rock without even having been touched.

Ichthys twirled his tongue around Teorus’s cock in his mouth, trying to hit all the spots that felt good. He let his tongue roll down the underside of Teo’s shaft with every motion he made as he bobbed up and down on him. The pressure in his own hips was growing and he reached down with one hand to stroke himself, trying to distract from the heavy arousal pulsing through his veins. Teorus looked down just in time to see Ichthys sucking and stroking him in full force while he pleasured himself with one hand and the sight made Teorus whimper.

The golden-haired god reached down and buried his fingers in Ichthys’s brown locks desperately, squeezing and pulling almost too hard, but Ichthys loved nothing more than seeing his friend utterly at his mercy, moaning in pleasure, his Prince Charming persona blown to smithereens.

Ichthys stopped pleasuring himself and brought his hand back to the skin between Teorus’s entrance and the place he’d been stroking and he massaged it again, then shifted his fingers to the puckered hole. He released Teorus’s cock from his mouth and started jerking him off hard and fast, rubbing against his entrance all the while. His friend’s beautiful face was contorted in pleasure and all that left his lips were unrestrained moans and the occasional “Yes!”

“Teo, look at me,” Ichthys murmured. Teorus opened his eyes and looked down at him.

“You know what I want,” Ichthys said, increasing the pressure with his hand on Teorus’s dick and his fingers over his entrance. “I wanna take you in my lap, right here in this bath. I wanna stuff you full of my cock and make you sing for me.”

Teorus moaned loudly, Ichthys’s words making his blood run hotter.

“Mmm… f-fu… Ikky, we can’t–ahh! We’ve… Mmm yeah… We’ve been here long enough already! Mm– What if someone comes in?”

Ichthys didn’t answer but instead pushed harder on Teorus’s entrance and his finger slipped inside him. Teorus bit his lip so hard to keep from screaming that Ichthys was certain he’d make it bleed.

“I don’t care who comes in, I’m gonna bend you over in this bath and I’m gonna fuck you nice and hard.”

With that, he put his mouth on Teorus’s painfully hard member again and he sucked him without stopping. He pumped his finger in and out of his ass until he felt Teorus’s body shake under his hands.

Teorus was so lost to the pleasure of his friend’s talented mouth and fingers that he couldn’t signal his release, he just pulled on Ichthys’s hair harder. Ichthys was ready when he felt Teorus’s cock twitch and spasm in his mouth as spurts of cum started hitting his tongue. He swallowed it all until he felt Teorus’s body go slack when he was spent. The god of Pisces guided his friend to sit down in the warm bath and lean against the rim of it as he caught his breath.

Teorus’s eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed in the afterglow of his orgasm. Ichthys had settled in front of him but it was his turn to be taken by surprise when Teorus grabbed his shoulders and switched their bodies around, making Ichthys lean against the rim of the bath instead.

The blonde god straddled him and caught his lips in a wanton kiss. Ichthys was a gifted kisser but he’d met his match in Teorus, who teased his lips with small nibbles, ran his tongue along them before dipping inside to coax Ichthys’s own tongue to twine with his.

“Mmf…”

Ichthys moaned into the kiss, feeling Teorus lean in into him and press their bodies together, both their cocks sliding against each other in the water.

“Fuck… Teo…,” Ichthys sighed as Teorus finally released his lips and lowered his head down to lavish attention on his neck. The golden-haired god ran his tongue along the column of Ichthys’s throat, hungrily covering the length of his neck with open-mouthed kisses. Teorus’s tongue ghosted along Ichthys’s warm skin, not stopping when he reached his ear. Teorus bit down on the lobe, ran his tongue along the shell. Ichthys’s hands shot up to the hips of the god in his lap, digging in with a wordless plea.

“Damn it, Teo… You’re such a tease…,” Ichthys moaned.

“Mm, you wanted me in your lap, right,” Teorus whispered tantalizingly in his ear, grinding his hips against Ichthys and creating friction between their cocks. Teorus reached down with one hand and pushed two fingers inside himself with some difficulty, scissoring them to stretch and prepare himself. His other hand found Ichthys’s hard dick and began to stroke slowly.

“Mmm!”

Ichthys hummed, shutting his eyes as he moved his hands to rest them on Teorus’s ass, kneading his cheeks and spreading them apart.

“Fuck, Teo… I wanna be inside you sooo bad,” he said, his voice practically a whisper but weighed down by pure lust.

Teorus stopped for a moment. He looked at Ichthys, searching his eyes for something. For all his confidence, Teo seemed to be searching for some kind of encouragement. He saw raw passion tinged with tenderness looking back at him. Yet Ichthys understood. He trailed a hand up Teorus’s back, almost as if soothing him, and cupped the side of his face.

“You know how I feel about you, right?”

They hadn’t bothered with labels. Hell, they’d barely figured it out themselves. Yet every time they were like this, either one would seek some kind of unspoken affirmation that this was more than just a romp in the sack. Or bath. Or office. Or dining room, that one time.

His uncertainty gone, Teorus snapped his fingers and leaned in, his lips gently touching Ichthys’s. Their kiss grew more passionate, lips and tongues caressing each other with a sweet restraint.

“What did you do,” Ichthys asked when they parted.

“I stopped time,” Teorus said, snapping his fingers to make it flow again. “I don’t care if anyone comes in now but I wanted that kiss just for us.”

Ichthys’s cheeks flared pink and he buried his face in his friend’s chest. He drew him close, their bodies creating that sweet friction again. Teorus ground against the god under him and whimpered.

“Ikky, come on. I can’t take it anymore!”

Ichthys didn’t need to be told twice and he moved to align his cock with Teorus’s entrance, both of them moaning loudly when Teorus sank down and the head of Ichthys’s cock slipped inside him.

“Damn, Teo, you’re still tight… Do you want me to wait?”

“No, please… I need you now, I need all of you inside me,” Teorus said breathlessly.

Ichthys thrust up and into him, fighting against the pressure on his cock and sliding a few more inches deeper inside Teorus.

“I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt… mmm, shit… Please, I need it,” Teorus begged, impaling himself on Ichthys’s length as he kept grip of his shoulders. He could feel the God of Pisces stretching him and filling him to the brim with every upward stroke and he wailed his pleasure.

“I told you I’d make you sing,” Ichthys managed to say before he grabbed Teorus and slipped out from beneath him. He turned him around, forcing him to his hands and knees as he got behind him.

Teorus managed to put on a playful smirk as he grabbed hold of the rim of the bath and he turned to look at Ichthys over his shoulder, arching his back and spreading his legs.

“To quote Scorpio, fucking hell… Even this,” Ichthys rubbed his thumb against Teorus’s entrance, “is fucking beautiful.”

Hearing Ichthys swear seemed to arouse Teorus all the more and he backed his hips toward him, impaling himself on his fingers.

“I can’t help it when you say that.. Mmm… Come on, Ikky…,” Teorus ground out between moans.

Seeing Teorus fucking himself on his fingers was definitely on Ichthys’s top five list of hottest things he ever witnessed but as good as it was, he moved on to the thing that was the top of that list. Namely, Teorus taking his cock from behind until he came.

Ichthys removed his fingers quickly and shoved his entire length into Teorus in one stroke, making him grunt and grab hold of the rim of the bath. The God of Pisces settled into a rhythm of slow but hard strokes, filling Teorus all the way each time and feeling his walls grip him deliciously every time he withdrew.

“Oh yeah, Ikky, don’t stop,” Teorus cried as he reached down and stroked his own cock which had come back up to full hardness. The two gods ground against each other, both feeling the pressure in their hips building and building as each sought relief in the body of the other.

They made for a beautiful sight, their heavenly features etched with the kind of pleasure only divine beings could give to each other.

No words were needed to let each other know that they were getting closer. Their hurried motions and gasping breaths were perfectly clear on their own. Ichthys leaned over Teorus, kissing his shoulder before biting down as he sped up his thrusts. The God of Taurus instinctively arched his back further, taking Ichthys’s cock impossibly deep.

“Sweet heavens, Ikky, right there… Aah… Fuck me, fuck me just like that…”

Teorus’ body was tight all over, like a loaded spring waiting to release, as he felt Ichthys’s cock bump and rub his sweet spot with every thrust.

“You’re gonna make me cum like this,” Teorus cried, not caring how easily he could be heard.

“Me too,” was all Ichthys managed before his hips started pumping hard against his friend, nearly losing their rhythm.

“Fuck, Teo, I’m gonna…Aaahh!”

Ichthys buried himself all the way inside Teorus, his cock twitching inside him as he started shooting his load. The sensation of Ichthys filling his ass as he thrust right into his sweet spot pushed Teorus over the edge and he felt his own cock twitching, streams of cum hitting the shallow water.

The golden-haired god moaned his release, the sound of him making Ichthys struggle to remember ever hearing anything better than that. Finally spent, the two gods separated from each other with a lewd noise, Teorus chuckling quietly at it, and they settled against the edge of the bath, Ichthys’s head on his friend’s chest.

“I’ve told you how good you are, right?”

“You may have,” Teorus smiled, his fingers playing aimlessly over Ichthys’s chest. “Can I sleep in your room again tonight? I just kinda don’t want this to be over.”

“Nuh-uh! You’ll make me late for work again and Ziggy will really kill me this time,” Ichthys grumbled. “I’m s'posed to work on Earth tomorrow but my room down here’s a mess. Can’t I sleep in yours?”

Teorus was quiet for a moment. It was something of a piece of history that no one was ever allowed in his room, not goldfish, not goddesses he bedded, not even any of his Wishes or Punishments colleagues. It had been like that for so long that he’d almost forgotten why. Yet somehow, with Ichthys it felt right.

“Yeah, you can,” Teorus said quietly. Ichthys looked up at him, his eyes wide.

“Wait, really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, really,” Teorus nodded, then bent his head down and claimed Ichthys’s lips in a tender kiss.

***

“Hue, I thought you said we could go to the baths tonight!”

Huedhaut looked at his lover, her face making a cute pout as she held her shampoo and soap.

“I’m sorry, my goddess, but I hope you’ll allow me to…take a rain check on that? If that’s the correct Earthly expression.”

“But why?”

“It’s been occupied outside of schedule, I’m afraid,” he said, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.

“Can’t we just go and ask whoever’s in there to hurry up so we can have a turn? I can–”

“No!”

Huedhaut had blurted it out instantly and far more sharply than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it won’t be necessary. I’ve already made alternative plans for us this evening that I’m certain you’ll enjoy.”

“Really? Aww, Hue, that’s sweet of you!”

Crisis averted, Huedhaut thought sarcastically to himself. He had about thirty seconds to come up with an alternative plan for the night before he risked seeming too suspicious.

“Those two owe me one,” he grumbled under his breath.

#star crossed myth #scm #scm gods #scm fanfic #scm teorus #scm ichthys #scm huedhaut #scm smut #scm fanfiction #scm fan fiction