#fucking die a million deaths please

[hecksupremechips]

This house is filled with fruit flies I might just fruit die

[peachrunes]

i hope i die <3

[lucidfairies]

science class [e.w]

pairing: loser!ellie x cheerleader!reader

summary: when a new cheerleader arrives at ellie's college, face all dolled up and skirt-clad hips swaying, she all but wants to die.

warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, poc friendly, smoking, bottom!ellie, dom!fem!reader, tribbing, cunnilingus, nipple play, sorta thigh riding, overstim ‼️, ellie comes like five times

wc: 3.6k

top notes: I like accidentally made ellie sort of autistic but it's not my fault okay. also when I was writing this I was thinking abt how if this was a novel the reader would be black but I'm white so idk if I can like write that without like getting something wrong but sorry anyway

sometimes ellie wished she was blind. she wished that she couldn't see pretty girls, because maybe then she wouldn't fall in love with everybody. especially you.

she was two weeks into her sophomore year of college when you showed up. immediately blinded by your beauty, she almost tripped down the hallway as you walked past, in a short little skirt, and a white shirt. your ponytail flicked as you walked by, meeting up with someone you knew already.

she knew she was fucked.

when she arrived at her class, she was astounded to see that you were sitting in the seat next to hers, chewing gum and typing on your computer with cute blue light glasses on. like it was nothing. like her world wasn't crashing down in front of her.

standing in the corner of the lecture room, she debated moving seats. there were plenty of open ones, but you chose the one next to her? how was she supposed to survive this class with a pretty girl next to her, observing everything she does?

the answer is, she wasn't going to.

she was simply going to perish from the sight of you, from being in your presence, because she certainly didn't deserve to be and-

"ellie, would you please sit down? you're creeping me out." her teacher said, and she shifted nervously, then sped to her seat with her gaze trained at the floor. "okay, let's dive in, shall we?"

and the lecture continued. like you weren't right there. she couldn't understand why everyone in the world wasn't looking at you right now, absolutely entrancing, the way you took cute aesthetic notes and reapplied your shiny clear lip gloss.

"ellie?" you said, hoping she truly answered to that. she turned, meeting your eyes with a nervous smile and rosey red cheeks. "hi. I'm y/n. I just wanted to tell you that I like your sweatshirt."

it was a ratty old thing that joel had given her years ago, with a faded queens logo and a hole in the armpit that she had to sew back together every time she washed the poor hoodie.

"it's nice to meet you," she said quietly, tucking back a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. she realized how strange she must've looked and stopped quickly, "my dad gave it to me when I was like 11. I've had it forever."

you giggled. you just fucking.. giggled. "you aren't one of those people who just wears it because it's cool though, right?" ellie shook her head violently.

"no, I love their music. I wish I was born in the eightees so I could've listened to them live and.. yeah. I really like them." she turned away from you ever so slightly, nervously over talking and terrified that she was embarrassing herself.

"hey, you're good. I wish I was too. my favorite song is probably back chat, but keep yourself alive is a close second. how about you?" and you let this loser girl next to you talk. and talk. and talk.

ellie didn't know that you were intrigued by her demeanor in every way. from the stickers on her lap top to the patches on her backpack, every detail about her you noticed. you observed the way she warmed up to people and let you strike up a conversation with her about anything once you knew her. and it was... cute. really fucking adorable.

ellie's life only got a million times harder after that. to add to her series of neverending death sentences, she now had to see you in your perfect makeup and effortless outfits everyday. instead of just showing up to class, you insisted on talking to ellie. about everything. cheer, your friends, some dude that was hitting on you.

and on top of that? she saw you in the hallways, or on campus and you smiled. waved, even. some days you even talked to her. in public. you weren't afraid to be friends with her. and though she had jesse and dina, she still had very little social experience, and you were like a breath of fresh air.

on a chilly wednesday afternoon, ellie was walking to the building that your class had been in, and caught a glance of some other lesbian couple on campus. that settled it. she was going to ask for your number today, it wasn't like she was proposing marriage. just something simple. easy.

"can I have your number?" she interrupted you mid-sentence. and you smiled. of course you fucking smiled. she prepared herself for the notorious rejection, after hearing rumors of you rejecting everyone that came up to you and asked for your socials we. she wasn't just anyone, though.

"duh, you only took forever to ask." ellie was frozen in place. had you wanted her to ask? couldn't you have asked for hers? but before she could overthink too much, you were shoving your phone in her face and ellie was putting her number in. "anyway, as I was saying.."

ellie tuned out what you were saying, purely by accident. there were too many big events going on in her life for her poor brain to handle. the love of her life just agreed to give her their number, and she was plotting her route to dina's dorm as quickly as possible to tell her everything.

"holy shit dina," she huffed, running her hands through her hair. "I asked for her number so she gave it to me, and we talked! dina, we talked. about things. I already have our life planned out. we're gonna have two kids and a dog, she'll be a stay at home mom, because I'll do everything for her. I would kill for this girl, dina." dina was unimpressed.

"you are such a loser, els. has anyone told you that before?" she wasn't a loser, she was just incredibly and obsessively in love with you. ellie rolled her eyes. "I say make a move. you never know what could come of it."

"I can't," she sighed, trying to find words. "I can't just make a move, what if she doesn't like me? what if she thinks I'm weird?" she frowned.

"you are weird. if she doesn't like you like that, then fuck her. maybe start with being friends?" ellie nodded. she thought you guys were already friends, but technically you never hung out outside of class, and you hadn't really texted that much (she got your number today, but that hardly mattered).

"should I invite her to jesse's on friday?" dina rubbed the back of her neck. jesse was in a frat, one of the largest on campus that had absolutely wild parties on the weekends, which weren't exactly the best place for first dates. but to ellie... smoking and drinking around hot people in a random basement? amazing.

"if you think she's into that, I'm not gonna stop you." ellie was up and out of dina's apartment quickly, biking back to the dorms and planning out everything that was going to happen on friday.

- - -

in ellie's defense, she overslept. she wasn't thinking much about grabbing a jacket when she was already going to be ten minutes late, so when she stopped outside and the cool air hit her like a brick, she was less than prepared. but it hardly mattered. today was the day she was going to invite you to jesse's party, so her stupid jacket was like a blip on her radar.

"ellie, you're turning blue." you said, once ellie stumbled into her seat next to you. she was in nothing but a loose fitting tee-shirt and jeans, nothing to protect her petite figure. you hadn't noticed before how toned her arms were, but you certainly did now.

"I'm fine, it-it-it's not that cold." her teeth chattered as she stealthy tried to rub her hands over her arms to create friction.

"ellie, baby, I have an extra sweatshirt," you giggled when her eyes widened, grabbing the sweatshirt and handing it to her. "wash it and return it to me whenever." it was a bland black sweatshirt, but it matched your outfit, and you were more than happy to give it to ellie.

ellie who was most definitely going to pass out. she was probably just cold. it wasn't because she could smell your perfume on your hoodie that you just handed her. like it was nothing. she was going to fall out of her chair, onto the floor, and die.

"thanks," she pulled it over her head and sunk into it. "I'll give it back next class- what are you doing on friday?" she tried to get her thoughts straight while you looked at her with an adorable smile.

"I'm actually packing up and leaving, I dropped out," ellie's face fell, "oh ellie you're face," you laughed hard, and her expression softened. "but I'm not doing anything. why? wanna ask me out?" ellie was definitely blushing hard.

"my friend jesse is having a party at his frat on friday, do you.. do you maybe wanna go?" you tilted your head and looked away, as if you actually needed to think about it.

"hm, I guess I can fit that into my schedule." ellie released the breath she was holding and looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

"uh that's great. it's kappa alpha, at nine. I would pick you up but I don't have a car,"

"how about I pick you up? what's your dorm number?" ellie texted you all the details, and it was settled. you were going on a date. together. in two days, and you were driving. ellie was on cloud nine- not even, cloud fucking ten.

- - -

"hey els," you giggled as she opened her dorm door. "oh, you look so cute! I'm definitely stealing this from you." you pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and messed with the corner of her collar, attached to a red flannel.

"oh thanks... it's yours if you want it." you knew if you asked she wouldn't ever have you give it back, maybe even give it to you right now. she stepped out of her room and shut the door, then followed you down the hallway.

"so who's this jesse kid? I hear a lot about him." you asked, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the frat was on the other side of campus and ellie planned on walking? laughable.

"I really don't know him that well, he's dating my friend dina. he's a big stoner, but he's not super into the party scene. just goes 'cause the frat does." her eyes were trained out the window, not because she didn't want to listen to you, but because she was insatiably nervous.

"nice, nice." you paused for a moment. "are we gonna dance together or what? gonna save me a slow dance?" the tips of ellie's ears turned red.

"because I have such a roster." she joked, rolling her eyes. she would save every dance for you.

"perfect. is jesse's weed good?" she shrugged.

"it's okay. not as good as mine, and his plug is kinda shitty. whatever, it works. we're here." you pulled the car to a stop against the curb, in awe at how many people were coming in and out of the house.

ellie desperately needed to get high. maybe then she could talk to you like a normal person, not like she was trying to brush you off. when she found jesse, he was talking to dina and brushed her off. with a groan, she turned to find some other seller.

you were talking to someone, pretending not to pay attention to ellie skittering around the house talking to people she knew. maybe she wasn't as much of a loser as you thought, or maybe she was just a stoner. one of them. either way, she kept disappearing, but when you finally found her again, she was sitting on a couch, joint hanging from her lips as she talked with some friends.

"els," you fell next to her, taking the joint out of her mouth and taking a hit. "we should play beer pong." you suggested, smiling at her the way she liked.

"we were just talking about that," dina cut in, "me and jesse will play with you guys, won't we jes?" he turned back towards the three of you, dazed and a little confused. "that's a yes." ellie was burning lasers into dina, who was standing.

one of the tables was empty, and the group immediately moved to occupy it. you took your place next to ellie, teaming up with dina who was smirking at the end of the table. "you go first," you handed ellie the small white ball.

ellie was skilled, that's for sure. she made almost every single point, which had jesse drinking until he couldn't see straight. she was trying so hard not to focus on the way your bicep brushed against hers, and the way you giggled whenever you made a point. it just wasn't fair. none of this was fair.

"I definitely won." ellie said, as you made your way back inside. "you had, like, two drinks, max. I had jesse drinking for miles." you could tell she was on something now, the way she grinned and made eye contact and jokes were far from her usual character.

"don't you owe me a dance?" your hand locked with hers as you gently pulled her in the direction of where most people were dancing. you lifted her arm and spun her, pulling her back against your front by her hips.

ellie surely wasn't breathing. she was sure that she had died from alcohol consumption, or maybe someone stabbed her, and she was dead, in heaven. or a fever dream in a coma. there was no way in hell -in hell- that you were swaying your hips against her ass, cunt so fucking close to where she desperately needed you.

"this is fun, don'tcha think, ellie?" you whispered, voice low as you guided her hips with yours. her head fell back against your shoulder, alcohol wearing off as you ground her hips against your front. "I asked you a question, darlin."

"so fun," she muttered, eyes closed as she let you bring her hips back and forth with yours to the beat of the music. "wanna go upstairs?"

"ellie williams inviting me upstairs on the first date? dirty." you giggled, pulling away from her body. she was flushed, her boxers were already wet, and she had no clue what going upstairs entailed. but she needed you regardless. "lead the way, confident." she ran her sweaty hands down the front of her jeans and led you upstairs, to an empty bedroom. it was jesse's, and he wouldn't ever know.. right?

you were pulling her face against yours before she even got a chance to tell you that she didn't know what to do. you were definitely taking the lead on this one - not that ellie objected in any sense.

you nicked her bottom lip, eliciting blood at how chapped they were. you pushed your tongue into her mouth, smiling when she moaned and pulled you in by your waist. your hands traveled, brushing against her tits from beneath her tee shirt. obviously she didn't wear a bra, she was too cool and masc for that.

"you're desperate els," you sneered when you pulled away, pulling your crop top up and over your head. "take off your shirt and pants and lay down." ellie had no thoughts in her head; just you. you telling her to strip. this definitely wasn't a fever dream.

she quickly lost her shirt and pants, leaving lanky limbs and embarrassing boxers. her nipples were perked up, waiting to be sucked and slapped, and her face was red with a never ending blush.

when she laid down, you got on top of her, pushing her legs up around your waist as you sucked hickey after hickey into her neck. she was writhing and whining, begging for you to touch her further than just your hands still placed on her thighs. just from making out and hickies she was pushing her hips into you, clit hitting the fabric of your skirt as you moved to push your thigh between her legs.

"need you so bad," she whimpered when you finally diverted your attention from her neck down her chest. you left soft kisses between her tits and around them, before taking her nipple in your mouth and harshly sucking. like a false sense of security.

her hips were coming down hard and fast against your knee as you continued to mess with her tits, pulling her nipples between your fingers and grazing them with your teeth. she was just so fucking sensitive, and she barely even smoked anything.

knowing she was getting close, you moved your knee and kissed down her sternum, leaving a trail of shiny gloss as you got to the waistband of her boxers. "oh, poor baby, you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" you ran your thumb over the wet patch of her underwear.

"nghh- for so long," she moaned as her hips rutted into your palm. "I think about y- fuck- think about you when I..when I come," her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, knowing she was sharing far more than she needed to.

"do you now?" you teased, pulling her boxers down her pale legs. you added them to the pile of clothes and admired how absolutely drenched she was, practically leaking onto the sheets. "what do you think about, princess?" you were bringing her legs over your shoulders, looking at her expectantly.

"think about you- mh- about this," she was immediately distracted by the way you kissed her clit. "about c-cuming on your- shit shit fuck," you pressed your tongue against her clit and licked, before sucking it into your mouth and painting patterns with your tongue.

after keeping your attention directly on her clit for a few minutes, you circled her entrance with your middle finger, lubing it up before pushing it in to the first knuckle and fuck, she was tight, holding onto your finger to the point you could hardly thrust.

"ellie, you gotta relax. we can stop if you want to." she shook her head violently, unclenching her eyes and trying to breathe. her body released its tension, which made everything less tense, allowing you to push your finger the rest of the way in.

and... she came. just like that, barely a finger deep her cunt, barely doing anything.

"jesus ellie," you laughed to yourself. you didn't wait for her to finish before you started fucking your finger into her. she whined and thrashed to get away from your hand, but you added another finger and pressed down on her hip to steady her. you curled your fingers up just enough to hit that sweet spot inside of her and she almost black out.

"fuck- s'too much.. s'too much," she slurred, drunk on your fingers. the bed shook lightly against the wall at the harshness of your thrusts.

"is it really, baby?" you grinned, before taking her clit in your mouth again. her moans were practically louder than the music downstairs, and her back was arching. she attempted to get away from you, pulling her hips away, but it was no use.

tears welled in her eyes as her stomach tightened. her pussy clenched around your fingers, sucking them in deep. you pressed against her spot as she came, making her let out a broken shriek.

ellie was definitely crying now. especially when you didn't stop... again. you just kept pounding your fingers into her, adding a third. just thinking about how hard she would cum on a strap instead of your fingers had you dizzy.

her second orgasm morphed into her third before you pulled your fingers out. they were drenched in cum, which was dripping down your arm and the sheets. ellie's cheeks were puffy from crying, hips twitching as she tried to breath.

"oh sweet girl, we're not done yet." you wiped your hand on the bed and climbed off of her, stripping yourself of your remaining clothes and coming back over her, kneeling between her legs.

you pushed her leg up, straddling her for a moment. her lips were parted, breathing heavily as she waited for you to drop against her. your lips quirked up into a smirk as you pressed your cunt against hers, head falling back as your clits met.

ellie's pussy was wet, covered in cum, ready to be fucked until she couldn't say any name but yours. you thrust your hips against hers, and she was crying again, pulling and flicking her own nipples as she listened to you moan and reveled at how phenomenal your pussy felt.

she pushed her hips into yours, so you held them down, forcing her to take whatever you gave her. you came down against her pelvis hard, almost to the point where it hurt, but ellie was living for it, sobbing out your name like it was God's.

"can't come again- I can't- fuck, nnghh," you forced two fingers into ellie's mouth and she shut up, sucking them like a slut.

"yes you can." your voice changed, something deeper and more dominant ripped out of you as you got close to your orgasm. a rock in your stomach dropped, and you could feel ellie getting close as you picked up the pace, moaning at how her cunt felt.

you came at the same time, cum mixing and smearing all over both of you. ellie was still crying, back arched as she moaned over and over. you kissed her ankle softly as you came down for your high, climbing off of her after a moment and laying next to her.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," ellie croaked, voice still hoarse for all the crying. you giggled, looking over at her with a grin.

"I think I can do that."

bottom notes: this is the longest fic I've written and I actually thought I wouldn't be able to get more than 2k words.. anyway sorry about the abrupt ending I kinda wanted to be done

[erindrinkstea]

Please Please Please

Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader

TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Violence, Blood, Death

Description, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

Note: Hey, I'm back to my usual postings!

For a moment, you swore that you could hear frantic voices from the back of your subconscious. You swore that those voices sounded a lot like your teammates in the 141.

But they couldn't be them. Not with the way they sounded so distraught, begging and crying for your life. You almost felt flattered.

"Lieutenant. Bullet. Birdie. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I haven't been a good sargeant to you, a good friend and fuck- I've been a horrible person overall. Please. Let me correct my wrongs and stay alive."

"You're going to be alright, Bullet. I swear on it. You're not leaving us anytime soon, that's a promise."

"Don't die on us, Bullet."

"Fuck- lovie, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have lost focus on the field. Please. Look, you can shoot me again in the throat if it'll make you feel better, just- make sure you'll make it out alive to do it, yeah?"

You laughed in the back of your mind. The last voice reminded you of your scottish sargeant, what a johnny thing to say.

"What a Bullet thing to do. Laughing even on the brink of desth."

You blinked at the new but familiar voice. "Cori?" Your old sargeant.

"I must be in hell if I'm seeing you." You joked and the sargeant, kicked at your head as you were lying on the ground.

Sitting up, you noticed that you were in a blank void. A white space with nothing but you and your sargeant, your old friend.

"Believe it or not, Cap and I made it heaven actually. Don't know how we were able to sneak in but surprise." Cori joked and you smiled softly at how easily you two eased into banter despite the long years.

"What are you doing joining us so soon by the way?" Cori crouched down, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. "Cap's gonna be angry if she hears about this."

You winced almost, "Can't you keep this a secret?" you pleaded. Soulmate or not- she'll find a way to kill you a second time if she finds out that you die so early. She always rained down hell whenever you were too reckless on certain missions.

"I don't know how you could keep your death a secret to another dead person, bullet. You're bound to meet sooner or later." Cori snickered.

"Ah fuck." You crossed your arms, preparing to face the wrath of your Captain. Only to find that your body was currently blinking, phasing in and out oddly. "What?"

"Oh." Cori looked surprised but pleased nonetheless. "Looks like you won't have to worry about facing Cap's wrath." He chuckles.

"They're really fighting to bring you back yknow." You didn't know who Cori was referring to. Who they are?

"Think your duty as Lieutenant is still far from over, Bullet." Cori pats your shoulder before you completely phased away from him.

The warmth on your shoulder was comforting even for a moment.

The panic was quick to run through their veins once they saw you go limp. They were assured you were not yet dead when they picked up a faint heartbeat.

A million thoughts ran through their heads as they rushed you to evac. Ghost yelling at Nik once they took their positions inside the helicopter. Price immediately contacting Laswell to prepare all the medics for your arrival. Soap holding onto one hand while Gaz held onto the other, both men pleading and talking to your unconscious form.

They usually wouldn't bother with your existence. They tolerated you as a teammate but refused to acknowledge you properly as their Lieutenant.

The 141 was a close pack, with loyalties that ran as deep as the ocean. So when they first met you, your bullet making a shot through Soap's throat. They were quick to build a resentment against you, quick to hold onto a grudge.

There were times where they felt warmth or awe at your small acts for them. With your little cooked meals, your aromatic teas, and your short notes. There were also scenarios where'd you'd stitch Ghost's balaclava when it rips or you'd patch Gaz up so gently when you're out in the field.

It was flattering to them but they always brushed off the butterflies, they'd shrug of the colorful fireworks. Refusing to acknowledge that they actually liked you because of a stupid grudge that you tried hard to make up for.

Now that stupid grudge might actually make them lose you. That drove them into a spiral- knowing that they might lose you and they haven't even done shit to make up for their mistakes.

"They're going to be fine. Bullet's strong. One of the damn best Lieutenants that I know." Gaz mumbled. He didn't know who he was trying to convince- Soap, him or maybe both of them.

"Please, Please. Make it out alive, birdie. Please."

[eringobragh420]

Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is pissed off. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! D/s undertones, rough sex, slapping, cum. 18+ Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you'd like to be added, please let me know!

“Don’t fucking touch me, Priest,” she says, yanking her arm out of his grasp before shoving his stupid, giant body as hard as she can. He stumbles back a couple steps, arms spread, palms to his girlfriend, and the unadulterated befuddlement painted on his face is enough to make her head explode.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Damian chuckles.

“What’s wrong with me?” she screams. Damian’s smirk is gone in an instant and his muscles stiffen, bringing him to his full terrifying height, but she can’t back down now. Not after what she just saw. Fuck him and the click he claims. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she continues yelling. They’re drawing attention—well, she is, anyway—but she couldn’t care less. She wants these people—his friends, coworkers, bosses, fans—to know exactly how much Damian Priest sucks, what kind of man is, what kind of boyfriend he is.

“Come here,” he grumbles, snatching her bicep, squeezing hard enough she knows there will be a bruise left behind, and he lifts, nearly bringing her feet off the ground, making it completely impossible for her to escape this time. She feels like her shoulder is dislocating the closer they get to the locker room, and she’s nearly flung into the door when it opens unexpectedly.

“Everything … okay here?” Seth Rollins asks, chocolate eyes passing back and forth between the couple.

“Everything’s fine,” Damian roars, swinging the tiny woman inside the empty locker room. As she goes by, she lifts her middle finger at Rollins, who instantly backs away, hands up, not wanting any trouble. Damian releases his death grip on her arm before kicking the door closed behind him. “Okay.” He sets his hands on his trim hips, shrugging, big eyes and raised brows. “Seriously. What’s your problem?”

Her lips purse as she massages her arm and considers his question. On one hand, she’s pissed because the asshole should know what he did. On the other hand, she could accuse him only to have him deny it, and then what does she do? On the other, other hand—a much smaller, less significant, barely existing other, other hand—there’s a chance she’s wrong, and while it would be good news, she would be embarrassed, and their relationship would be damaged … if it isn’t already. But then the image from earlier flashes in her brain and, not only does she want to die a little, she believes she knows the truth, so decides to stay the course.

“You’re—” She clears her throat because suddenly it’s scratchy and it hurts much like the pain in her chest. “You’re cheating on me.”

The allegation hangs heavily in the ether. She feels stupid actually saying the words. She never, in a million years, would have believed him to be the type, but she knows what her eyes saw. Rhea Ripley—the incomparable, exquisitely beautiful—Rhea Bloody Ripley in Damian’s strong arms, her muscular legs wrapped around his waist. They weren’t kissing, but they might as well have been, and somehow, in her crumbling mental capacity, that alone served as plenty of evidence for an affair.

“What?” Damian asks, the tone of his voice lowering several levels. “I’m—” He paused, shaking his head. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

“Yeah, Damian, you’re fucking cheating on me,” she replies with more force than she thought she was capable of.

He nods, plump lips forming a deep frown. “And you thought acting like a psychopath in front of everyone we know was the way to handle it?”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” she seethes, nostrils flaring. Her skin crawls at the thought of the two of them together. She wants to vomit imagining a life without her Papí. She just can’t fucking believe they’ve ended up here.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Damian replies, bending over to her height. “You’re talkin’ nonsense!”

“I saw you, Damian. I fucking saw both of you.”

He shakes his head, shoulders coming up to his ears as he considers her statement. And then it dawns on him—she watches in real time as the lightbulb flashes on above his stupid man bun. “Are you talkin’ about Rhea?”

Her mind is blank, erased like a math problem on a chalkboard, leaving her heart in control of her body—and right now?—that heart is fractured, splintering, promising to disintegrate at any given moment. She feels her feet moving of their own volition, closing the space between them. She stands before him for half a moment at less than half his height before reeling back and slapping him across the face. The palm of her hand erupts with fire, tears she’s been battling since the moment she witnessed the embrace now streaming freely down her contoured cheeks. Damian stands frozen, looking somewhere over her head. The muscles in his jaws flex as he clenches his teeth, inhaling long and hard through his nose. He opens his mouth to spin a web of lies, so she slaps him again before he can get started. She’s crying now because of the pain in her hand and the pain behind her ribcage, so she slaps him once again because it’s his goddamn fault. Damian catches her wrist as she makes another attempt, and this is a brand new pain.

“Mírame!” he bellows, backing her up until she slams into the nearest wall. She loses her breath a bit, but Damian places his free hand behind her head to prevent any impact. His grip on her wrist is unrelenting as he holds it against her chest. She is miniscule in this awkward embrace, her eyes looking everywhere but where he wants her to. But when he bends his knees and dips down to her level, ducking his head until he’s in her line of sight, she’s forced to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna make you pay for those slaps in a minute …” he cautions. His hand starts applying pressure to the back of her head. “But first I have to tell you, because for some reason you need to fucking hear it, I’m not cheating on you.” 

She swallows, having her breath stolen again because she feels the truth of his words vibrating her bone marrow. She also feels the shame and embarrassment of being wrong. With her free hand she struggles to unclamp his vice-like grip from her wrist, and having had enough of her shit, Damian grabs both wrists this time and smashes them into the wall above her.

“Do you hear me?” he carries on, with quite a bit more hostility than she’s used to, shoving his knee into the wall between her legs. His knee pad becomes a cushion for her pussy—he’s still in his gear, still sweaty, because she accosted him right after his match—elevating her to the toes of her sneakers, and she is completely at the mercy of Damian Priest.

“Yes,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Good. Do you believe me? Hmm?” Capturing both wrists in one hand, he cups her chin with the other and touches his cheek to hers. “Do you believe that I’d rather die than hear someone else call me Papí?” It’s actually an incredibly sweet confession, but the venom in his tone scorches the honey in his words.

She believes him. By all that is good and holy in this world, she believes him and she is equal parts mortified, thankful, and contrite. She’d allowed her imagination to run wild because of an act of love between close friends, never once considering having a civil conversation with either of them about how it clearly made her uncomfortable. Did she just cause a rift in their relationship? Contaminate it with her jealousy? How many people is she going to have to apologize to? Seth, for sure, although he usually deserves any middle finger aimed in his direction. Christ, what’s she gonna say to Rhea?

“Damian,” she whispers, doing everything she can to not sound pathetic, and if her own ears are to be trusted, she is failing miserably.

“No,” he interrupts her, “you started this. I’m gonna fucking finish it. Now answer me.”

She grits her teeth, rolling her hips unconsciously because the position he’s put her in isn’t all that comfortable, probably by design, and suddenly she remembers how and why she’s propped on her boyfriend’s thigh. Even the slightest friction renders a groan from her. Damian tilts his head, eyes unforgiving, a sable shade she’s never seen before, and she regrets having made any noise at all, no matter how unintentional. His cheek is transforming into a furious vermillion, and the guilt that washes over her is nearly unbearable. She has no hand left to play, not that she did in the first fucking place, and she resigns herself to the punishment she’s about to receive. Well-deserved punishment, she understands.

“Yes,” she breathes, his eyes boring into her, chipping away any residual resolve she might have left inside.

“¿Si, que?” he booms, as if he expected the incorrect response. His anger hasn’t abated.

She can’t feel her fingers anymore and she’s struggling to maintain balance on Damian’s thigh. The slightest lean this way or that sends jolts of pleasure throughout her body, and it’s a losing battle trying to keep the satisfaction off her face. “Yes, Papí,” she says, “I believe you.”

He eyes her for a long moment, searching her face for any clue she might be lying or still angry. She keeps her own eyes open and on him, seemingly baring her soul before him, feeling more vulnerable now than she has in her entire life. At last he pushes away from her and the wall, releasing her wrists, removing his thigh from between her legs, and maybe she misses that last part a little bit.

“Now take those off—” He points at her denim shorts. “—and bend the fuck over.” And then he moves his arm to the right, pointing at a giant WWE trunk on wheels wedged against the corner of the room. She knows her place, and she has her orders.

She kicks her shorts toward him, standing before him in nothing but a pair of Nike hightops, a white thong, and a t-shirt-turned-tube-top that demands the audience to ALL RISE. He doesn’t even look at her body before nodding toward the trunk, and Jesus Christ, she’s in so much trouble. She passes him while rubbing her wrists and when she’s standing less than a foot from the trunk, she realizes she’s too short for this fucking thing too. She glances at Damian over her shoulder, and he’s stomping toward her, and her heart jumps into her throat. She hops onto the trunk, tips of her shoes barely kissing the floor just like when she was straddling Damian’s thigh.

The smack to her right ass cheek echoes throughout the locker room, same with the slap to her left, and she yelps.  Damian grabs her hair and pulls, arching her back into a spine-busting half-circle. He lets go, but before she can fall forward, one of his huge hands clamps over her mouth and holds her in position. With the other, he wrenches at her thong to pull it aside—she hears the material rip at the same time—then bends her leg at the knee and props it onto the trunk beside her.

“You know, the jealousy is kinda sexy on you,” Damian comments. Now she feels his hand working at his pants as it bumps against her sore ass. Then comes a different kind of smacking as he swats the sensitive skin with the underside of his rigid cock. He traces the head along both cheeks and along the crack, on down until she feels the huge, blunt head at her soaking entrance. “But don’t you ever fucking slap me again.”

Without warning, he is wholly sheathed inside her, his hips slamming into hers. She cries out from behind his hand, clutching his wrist with one hand as the other claws at the trunk in a desperate search for leverage to launch herself away. Damian is not a small man, in any way, shape, or form, so he’s always allowed her a few minutes to get used to his size. Not this time. This is her penance. He squeezes her hip, in full control of her body, and he’s simply using her pussy to get off now, without regard for her pleasure. She feels almost like a fleshlight, but her hormones are confused because she’s wet as fuck and, whether he likes it or not, she’s liable to get off just from him fucking her.

Damian stretches across her backside, her spine still bowed, and his teeth scrape across the shell of her ear as he grunts, “Say you’re fucking sorry.” He removes his hand from her mouth.

She gulps oxygen before panting, “I’m sorry, Papí. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He kisses her sweaty neck and sighs, hanging his head over her shoulder in unison with slowing the pummeling of her pussy. “I’m sorry, too. Lo siento, mi vida.” His rhythm starts speeding up following several moments. “But I am gonna cum in this pussy,” he advises, standing up straight, gripping both hips. “And you are gonna walk outta here with it dripping down your thighs.”

“Yes, Papí.”

“Because I fucking love you.”

She groans, bucking back against him. “I love you, baby.”

One final thrust and he makes good on his promise. He even squeezes the base of his cock to make sure every drop is inside her before pulling out. He’s much more gentle with her now, his enormous hands sliding up her back to her shoulder and arm so he can assist her into a standing position. As soon as she turns to him, she grabs his face and pulls his lips to hers. Their kiss is long, deliberate, and by the time they’re finished, his hands are cupping her face and hers are clutching his neck, and goddamn it, she’s so fucking stupid. But love makes people do crazy things.

“Now what do I do?” she asks, holding up the tattered side of her thong. Damian inspects the damage, then takes the lacey material in both hands and rips it into several pieces, which fall one by one to the floor.

“Problem solved.”

** Mírame - Look at me ** Si, que - Yes, what ** Papí - Daddy

[sister-lucifer]

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

Genre: Gore smut 

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

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

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

Breaking and entering. 

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

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

This was supposed to be easy. 

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

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them. 

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

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

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat. 

One down. 

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

Two down.

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

…A gunshot. 

A gunshot?! 

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway. 

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

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

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

Three down. 

But still one bullet unaccounted for. 

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

No answer.

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

Nothing. 

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

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

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

This silence is sickening. 

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

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!” 

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

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor. 

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

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

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

Clean through. 

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

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

There’s no movement. 

Not a sound. 

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

Nothing. 

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

Not even a twitch. 

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

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

This isn’t happening. 

This isn’t happening. 

He’s not really gone.

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

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

Was that a…cough? 

He looks down at Toby’s body. 

It hasn’t moved. 

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

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

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

…He has no idea what just happened. 

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

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

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye. 

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

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

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

The first bullet. 

Clean through, and out the back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

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

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

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

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

There it is. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought he was gone. 

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

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

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

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

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

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

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

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…How did that feel?” 

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up. 

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

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

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

That wouldn’t be the total truth. 

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

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

Tim’s breath hitches. 

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

He has to push this further.

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

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

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

“Keep talking.” 

Toby’s stomach flips. 

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

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

He doesn’t want this to stop. 

He has to keep going. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Please what, Rogers?” 

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy. 

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

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

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

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

It’s working. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror. 

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

He doesn’t want this to end. 

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

“What would they think…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, that’s good. 

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dammit, he thinks. 

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this. 

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[ropes3amthoughts]

I’m going insane right now. I can’t stop thinking about Kabru and I can’t express my feelings well enough in any amount of words or pictures or emojis or anything. I want to analyze every single moment of his, every single thing he says and does, but it wouldn’t be enough. There is no way I could ever convey everything I think about him.

I’m going so fucking nuts right now you guys. He makes me want to stim and pull my hair out and walk in circles and kick my legs and giggle and bite my hands and twirl my hair and write one million words about him and draw a million drawings of him and paint him like a holy medieval oil painting and talk about him to anybody who listens and throw up and write his name all over my skin and save ten thousand pictures of him to my phone and carve his face into a rock and cry and just everything he makes me feel almost everything I could possibly feel it’s so overwhelming I’m not normal about him at all and I need to say something about him I feel like I’m going to explode he drives me crazy I love him deeply

He’s like a bug to me I want to put him in a little glass jar and feed him pieces of vegetables and berries and maybe little bits of my own meals and observe him closely and take little notes in my notepad about his habits and food preferences and I’d have a little light focused on him so I can watch him closely but turn it off at night time so he can sleep and then I’d take him out of the jar and set him on my counter and I’d tell him sit still while I open up a sketchbook and draw him with the fervor of a religious artist who’s seen the face of a god or a scientist who’s been ignored for the past twenty years and has discovered an entirely new species and is thinking this is the chance to finally prove themselves and I would sketch away like my life depends on it and I would fill every single page with his face and his whole body and every bit of how he looks and then eventually my hands would cramp up so bad I’d have to stop and I’d set the sketchbook down next to my notepad and together it would have every single detail to him as if it were a scan from his mind

Can we please talk about Kabru more? Can we please talk about every single one of his scenes? Can we please talk about his motivations? His goals? The way he sees others? The way he sees himself? Can we talk about the scene where he kills those corpse guys from a deep analytical view other than “wow he’s crazy he killed those guys” because it’s much more complex than that and he killed them because he saw them as bad people who were unforgivable and deserving of death and then right after he said his party couldn’t steal their money despite the fact the corpse guys stole from them first and he’s not a “two rights make a wrong” type of guy or a revenge seeker and he is instead a “justice must be achieved no matter what” type of guy? Because he’s determined to reach his goals no matter what, like with eating the harpy eggs? Can we talk about how he thinks bad people deserve to die and how at one point he thinks he deserves to die? Can we talk about how it seems like he’s a people pleaser because he does anything to get people to like him, but it’s not because he wants people to like him, it’s because he wants to use those people to further his goals, but he doesn’t have sinister goals, and by using others, he hopes to reach his goal of helping humanity? Can we talk about the fact he uses himself as a tool to use others to help others? Can we talk about how he is not very good at connecting with others or himself deeply? Sure he can talk to others and convince them of things, but he has a mask, he hardly lets the true him slip, he hardly lets himself be truly known. Can we talk about how Kabru clearly has not allowed himself to process his grief and trauma from Utaya but still throws himself into the dungeon and faces monsters constantly because he wants to help humanity and he sees himself as expendable when it comes to benefiting humanity and how it clearly fucks him up but he shoves it down and ignores it because he thinks there are more important things to worry about than himself? Can we talk about how Kabru’s ambitious goals are a means to cope with his survivor’s guilt and how he thinks the only reason he survived the Utaya tragedy was so he could protect humanity from anything like that from happening again, how it’s a way to try and justify why he deserved to live, when it seems clear he doesn’t think he deserves it? Eating is the privilege of the living, but Kabru is rarely shown eating, often forgetting to eat or eating things he finds gross. Maybe he doesn’t think he deserves that privilege, like he doesn’t think he deserves life. Maybe eating is something that keeps him alive, but it’s often disappointing and something he wants to avoid. He cares so little for himself! There’s his messy room, his disregard for his own feelings, his lack of eating, him drinking to deal with insomnia, etc. but when it comes to others he cares so deeply. He’s so selfless! He doesn’t care for himself and he loves humanity deeply! He has so many different things he wants to do! The story literally couldn’t have happened without his actions. He’s such an interesting guy!

I know it’s fun to put him in little fanon situations and people have probably analyzed all there is to analyze but could we talk about it again even if we aren’t professional analyzers and it’s all been done before just because it’s interesting and fun and he’s such a neat guy and it’s fun to talk about him at least for me when I talk about him it makes my heart start racing and my throat get tight like I can’t breathe and I start stimming and feeling giddy and it doesn’t have to be that way for you but can we talk about him even if it’s something as simple and surface level as “Kabru cool 👍” I know a lot of the anime onlys don’t know that much about him and are missing so much of his character and his arc and his backstory and all that so it’s hard to talk about him but I’m sure at least one other person has read the manga and is like “wow! I love this Kabru guy!” Because that’s how I feel except it’s more like “I love this Kabru guy so much I feel like my head is about to fucking explode” so maybe could we please talk about him more maybe draw him more maybe write about him more maybe he could get some neat little focuses here and there maybe he could have a nice time in fanart and fanfic and maybe someone could say something really cool about him maybe someone could hit me up as an anon and be like “I really like when Kabru did this” and I could be like “HOLY SHIT YES THANK YOU FOR SAYING THIS ANON I LOVE YOU YES” that could be us for real

I feel like I’m gonna start shaking and throw up I love him so much do any of you guys get me I feel like pulling off my skin I think about him like 1-17 times every hour he is on my mind I was eating dinner and I was so distracted because I was thinking about the scene where the dungeon could’ve been conquered by the Canaries but Kabru doesn’t want one race to hold all the power so he holds Mithrun hostage and demands answers and when they don’t answer him he states that short lived races will conquer the dungeon and then he falls into the hole holding onto Mithrun fully prepared to kill the both of them if it meant Laios could conquer the dungeon and the island could be controlled by short lived races because he thinks that would be better for humanity the dungeon could’ve been conquered and sealed off right then and there and Kabru wanted the dungeon sealed off he wanted the monsters gone but he wanted more than that he wants power divided up between the races he wants short lived races to be taken seriously he thinks it’s impossible for them to see eye to eye but he wants short lived races to have some power he wants it to better humanity over all he doesn’t want to do what’s easy he wants to do what he thinks is right and he is willing to do a lot in order to achieve that he’s so ambitious but it works for him and he’s so dedicated to his goals and does he even know himself because he almost brushed it off at first I kept thinking about the “wait, am I really ok with this?” Line because like he wasn’t ok with that and he did something so drastic in order to stop it but I think it’s peculiar the way he thinks to himself the way he doesn’t quite know what he wants like he thinks he doesn’t want to eat monster food but then he does and he wants to do good for humanity but what does he even want to do for himself? And I always think about the “What was the purpose in me surviving Utaya?” Or whatever he said I’m not looking up the specific panel I’m on a ramble I’m not stopping for anything this is like a fucking train there are no sudden brakes I’m typing without stopping or editing or anything this is non stop. Does he not see himself as anything other than a means to better humanity? Something to be sacrificed if it’s for the greater good? Post-canon he goes on to study under Yaad and be Laios’ advisor and be Prime Minister but it’s all helping people he’s making decisions to help Melini and his friends and what’s good for people but what does Kabru want to do? Thinking about how Izutsumi goes around asking people what they are going to do and they all have different plans for the future but they decide that right then they’ll be enjoying a nice meal with each other. Has Kabru ever slowed down and thought he wanted to enjoy a meal with his friends? Sure he has meals with others, but it seems like he only has them because he has to eat because he needs it to live or because he’s trying to get Laios to like him so he can figure out what his deal is or because his friends are being held hostage or because he wants to help Laios with the Faligon feast and it’s all out of necessity or for other people. Does he ever sit down and think he WANTS to enjoy a meal with the people he cares about? Does he ever think he’s done so much good for humanity and maybe he can let himself be selfish for maybe an afternoon and eat a nice meal he likes with people he cares about? Miss Ryoko Kui please please can Kabru enjoy a nice meal with people he cares about and it’s because he wants to 🙏 can it be like an extra comic or something on the side please pleaseeeee pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewe In the post canon Laios was playing in some random field with kids and Falin and Marcille were there in the background with a picnic basket because they were gonna have a picnic together but Kabru wasn’t there can he please come to their picnic and enjoy himself and have a yummy meal and have an overall very lovely time and think to himself he’s glad he came and he like smiles pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeweeeee

I just want the guy who doesn’t eat meals very often in the manga about eating meals to have a nice meal 💔 is that too much to ask 💔 please please or can we at least draw fanart of that can we get some fanart of him having some like absolutely delicious food waiter waiter more Kabru fanart please and if the chef is able can we please get him having a nice meal? Ok thanks also can we get some fanfics can we invest more on the DunMeshi food themes I think there is not enough content about them eating meals I also think Kabru doesn’t get enough stuff focused on him so can we get some fanfics of him having some nice meals or do I have to write one myself because I will and it will sit around have done in my notes forever because I’m notoriously bad at finishing things but please please Kabru content and if it’s possible can having a nice time and if we can get even more specific can there be Kabru having a nice meal and feeling loved and happy and letting himself be a little selfish for just a little bit so he can focus on his own nice meal and let himself be happy pleaseeee

He makes me so fucking crazy there are so many things wrong with him and I love him. There are so many things I want to say that I can’t even think of the words to. I don’t know how to phrase any of it all I can think about it is Kabru.

Kabru ily 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He looks so stupid in this picture I love him so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.6

TW: torture, mention of rape

prev part. first part

"I guess we need to talk, Johnny." You looked at him, and the incredible feeling of guilt consumed your stomach. How could you believe a random girl over Johnny?

"Yeah, I guess we need to hen." he said while rubbing the stubbles on his chin. The last week was the most chaotic in his life. He thought he had lost you for good, and when Kyle told him that crazy whore was in your apartment, it was over. That was a line he thought she wouldn't cross. You were a civilian, an innocent civilian who got into this shit because of him. 

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, hen." 

Both of you apologized at the same time, getting a confused look out of each other. "What're you sorry for, Bonnie?"

"I believed her. I believed that you would cheat on me."

"I didn't explain it, did I?"

„No," he told the truth. He didn't deny anything, but you maybe still should have asked yourself if it was the truth. The guilt ate you alive.

"I'm sorry for getting that crazy bitch in your life; did she hurt you?" He took your hand in his, examining if any new bruise or scar was there. 

"Physically no"

"Hen" 

"I love you, Johnny, you know."

"Of course I know; I love you too."

"Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

He nodded and started to explain how he woke up and didn't know what happened, how he felt guilty and hated himself, how John took the fall for everything, how he realized that she raped him, how she accused him of raping her, and how she made him believe no one would ever believe him. How he wanted to tell you everything, and then that slag turned everything around, convincing him that no one would believe him, and finally how Simon believed him and how he opened up. Your heart broke into a million pieces hearing what she did to your poor Johnny.

“You didn't deserve that love.“

„I know I still feel dirty, you know." You knew the feeling all too well, but you didn't know right now what you could do to make it better, so you just took him in your arms, caressing the soft edges of his Mohawk. „You're not dirty, Johnny; her action doesn’t define you." You held Johnny the whole time while he was crying in your arms. ——————————————————————————   This wasn’t the first time, neither for John nor Ghost, but it was never this personal. They had never had as much fun as this time. Ghost already pulled her on a chair, tying her wrists and legs, not giving a fuck about her pleas that it was too tight and hurting her; they were a long time over having any pity for her. 

„We can make it quick or painful, your choice," John spoke, trying to appear as the good cop in this interrogation. His heart wanted to rip her apart in the most inhuman way possible, but first, he needed some information.

„I don't want to die, please. I only meant good." Simon didn't hesitate to slap her right across the face.

„Don't lie.“

„I didn't lie; you would be better off without her.“

„Bad mistake, Ghost doesn’t like when someone talks badly about our girl,“ John huffed, taking a drag on his cigar while sitting on a chair.

„What do you think, boss, should I cut a finger off or break her arm?“ She was panting heavily, the sweat already dripping down her neckline, while she only stared in horror at them. She begged and pleaded, but how many of her victims did it too? How many were even able to remember a thing?

„No, no Ghost we play nice just like her,“ John said with a grin, pulling out three pills from his pocket. Thankfully, the nurses on base didn't have a good opinion of the medic.

Ghost took the pills, putting them in front of her eyes. "Choose. "

„What are these?“ She knew, but her mind didn't want to comprehend what they wanted from her.

„I think the same one you used on me, the other is used for assisted death, and the third one I forgot something with internal bleeding.“ 

„They look the same.“ 

„Choose or I will make you choose." Before the medic argued, Ghost already had all three pills in his hand, pushing them into her mouth.

„I choose this one,“ her eyes watering as she pointed to the left pill. If she were, by any chance, smarter, she would have known she wouldn’t come out alive.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it down her throat. As she felt the numbness starting in her fingers, she couldn’t stop smiling. She made the right choice. 

„They were all the same,“ John replied unapologetically. He didn't want to do this too messy; he only wanted the needed information and then would break her neck; he deserved the right after all. 

„You bastard“ This earned another punch from Simon.

"Let's see how you like being paralyzed. Did you enjoy seeing your victims squirm in fear?“

„Please don't“

„Oh, afraid I'll rape you.“

„Don't worry, Ghost wouldn’t even rape you out of spite.“

„You're so pathetic. Do you need to drug people to get a lay? I bet you're already wet thinking about me touching you. Will only touch my girl.“

„We need to know with how many people you did that stunt?“

„Only you and Johnny, I swear.“

„You swear?“ John stood up, took his cigar, and flicked it close between her thighs, seeing how the heat burned her thighs closer to her core. “It isn't fun to be so helpless? Now tell me the truth.“

She cried and still denied the truth of the sick games she pulled over all these years: „Guess you didn't want the nice way, my turn cap." Ghost grumbled pulling out his favorite knife, a beautiful gift from you. He cherished dearly and he thought you should have had the right to partake in her downfall after all.

The burn of the cigar was long forgotten when Simon slowly craved letter after letter in her skin, taking slow movements as if he were performing in a calligraphy contest. Letter for letter, the red blood dried down on Simon's pale skin, the screams were like music in his ears. He finally had what he wanted: Revenge. He dreamt of it when he saw his father abusing his mother when he met Roba when he heard your past story, and now he finally got it. He could finally protect his loved ones.

„Beautiful, isn’t it, Cap?“

"You could improve your handwriting the letters are slacking a bit.“ 

„You're right, Captain, need to write a few rows more." After the fifth letter, she finally confessed.

„How many“

„I have a list on my phone,“ she cried while Ghost pulled out the phone, finding the list with her guidance. Ghost saw a lot of cruel things in his life, but the visuals on the list made him almost puke: several videos of abused unconscious men and women, their names, and the date all written under them—disgusting. When he saw the picture of Johnny, it was enough for him, and he snapped her neck.

„I'm sorry, Captain.“

„I would have done it if you weren’t faster.“

„What will we do about this?“

„The right thing.“

———————————————————————————— 1 year later

Johnny found peace after consulting a therapist for a year straight, with the support of his beautiful girlfriend and boyfriends. John and Ghost took the list and spoke with all the remaining victims, taking her life insurance money and splitting it amongst the victims. It was nothing that could redeem the situation. Still, they did everything so every one of her victims could afford and participate in the needed therapy, even spreading awareness of male SA survivors in the military with Laswell's help. Your relationship surprisingly grew stronger after the incident, and the bond and trust were only tighter. So here, where you cuddled in a big cuddle pile with your men and Winston, you were finally at peace again.

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

@thychuvaluswife @cutiecusp @blackhawkfanatic @spicyspicyliving @octopiys

A/N: wrote this half asleep so sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes Im not the best at writing torture Im more of an angst girly hope you still enjoyed it.

---------------

A/N 2: Don't read further if you don't want to know anything about the author

So sorry that I posted this Chapter 1 month after the last, my last month was kinda weird. Had a theoretical final exam(passed with an A and an B) , lots of interviews- but hey I got one thing (not my dream thingy but still good), had lots of stress at work and unregular plans like one day night the next early :( So it took a lot of motivation to finally finish this and get back into writing regularly.

[whorediaries-09]

abditory;

"forgive us now for what we've done"

☆ EVENTS ☆

'tis the damn season (closed)

you can meet me at the hotel; (closed) [kinkotober masterlist]

put your life out on the line" (closed)

got the wine for you; (closed) [false god (masterlist)]

maybe it's a blessing in disguise; (closed)

music got you lost; (open) [masterlist]

✧ ONE-SHOTS ✧

Peppers Sirius Black X Reader. Fuck buddies to lovers. Modern AU!. 18+ content

Delicate Sirius Black X Reader. Friends to lovers. TW- Self harm, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Night We Met Sirius Black X Reader Set During Order of The Phoenix. Mention of major character death(s).

New Year's Day Sirius Black X Reader Set during Order of The Phoenix. Fluff and low humor.

Cardigan; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort.

Sure Thing; Sirius Black X Shy!Reader Fluff.

Oh Children; Sirius Black X Reader Angst.

Million Dollar Man; Sirius Black x Camgirl!reader 18+ content, drinking.

Daylight Flowerist!Sirius Black X Barista!reader Fluff.

Consume; Dark!Sirius Black X Muggle!reader. 18+ content, cemeteries, dark themes.

Born to die Cult!leader Sirius Black X Reader. Mentions of murder, gore, dark themes.

Afterglow; Felix Catton x Reader Hurt/Comfort.

Dancing with our hands tied; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort, injuries, blood. (potential part two)

Maneater; Neighbor!James Potter X Reader 18+ content, stalker behavior, darkish themes.

She just hit my heart; James Potter X Reader Fluff.

Don't blame me; Priest!Remus Lupin X Reader Alludes to sex, dark themes.

Pick your poison, babe; Sirius Black X Reader Suggestive Content, fluff.

Try me; Ravi Singh X Reader Cigarettes, hurt/comfort.

ψ SERIES ψ

The Seven Lives; Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter. Status- On going (PAUSED)

No Time To Die (Status - Completed)

The hurricane with my name on it. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

Love to think you'll never forget. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

⨴MOODBOARDS⨵

Poison Ivy From my fall event (close)

Heartbeat; From 'the seven lives' series.

§ ASKED AND ANSWERED §

Call It What You Want Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Touch sensitivity.

Indentation in the shape of you Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Fluff, bad humor.

Now I'm Covered in You Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. 18+ Content. From my fall event (close)

Trying To Keep The Water Warm James Potter X Reader. Professor James AU! Fluff. From my fall event (close)

Dark Red James Potter X Reader Set during the Marauders era. 18+ content.

Womanizer Sirius Black x Reader Set During the Marauders era. Angst, 18+ content, drinking, hints at sexual assault.

Meddle About; West Coast; FDad!James Potter X Reader. 18+ content, mentions of alcohol, age gap.

Maroon Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, drinking, alludes to sexual assault, hurt/comfort.

The great war; Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort. Part two to Maroon.

Do I wanna know? Rockstar!Sirius Black X Reader. 18+ content.

Dusk till dawn Sirius Black X Lestrange!Reader Hurt/Comfort, dialogue heavy.

Smoke on my clothes; Rockstar!Sirius Black X Popstar!Reader Fluff, 18+ content, use of y/n.

Into You; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, porn without plot.

Wherever I go; Remus Lupin X Reader. Making out, suggestive, fluff.

Blue Jeans; Professor!Harry Potter X Reader 18+ content.

Getaway car; Sirius Black X Desi!Reader 18+ content, sexual tension, substances.

I think he knows; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, mentions of war, fluff.

Gorgeous; James Potter X Reader 18+ content.

House of balloons/glass table girls; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

You're in love Policeman!James Potter X Baker!Reader Fluff.

Can't you see, you're meant for me? Bsf!Dad!James Potter X Reader Suggestive content, fluff.

I'm gonna make you my wife; Sirius Black X Reader Banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content.

This place will burn you up; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

❁ ODE TO FANFICTION ❁

Hall of morals;

I'm running back home to you;

[lucysarah-c]

WE NEED AN ENTIRE STORY OF LEVI AS A BABY BOY DADDY! LIKE PLEASE ITS ACTUALLY TOO GOOD 🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭

You all have inspired me to write a one-shot, so I'll post it soon. Thank you so much!

But since I'm on it, I think I'll give you a few headcanons.

In my idea, Levi didn't have many children, and while sometimes my scenarios may change depending on the situation, mostly Levi's boy would be an only child. This wasn't Levi's original idea, and I'll explain why.

Leaving aside whether in the canon period of time there are real contraceptives or not, I 100% believe Levi is a highly meticulous guy. If he needs to pull out and count days in the old-fashioned way, he will. If he has to wear condoms every single time, he will. I believe Levi would try to make sure that if he ever has a child, it would be planned, as far as is humanly possible, of course. Sometimes contraceptives fail, etc.

In my mind, I believe Levi and Y/N decided or happened to have a kid around the time before the expedition to Wall Maria. There was about half a year when the scouts waited for the correct time to do the expedition to Wall Maria. Well, I believe she probably got pregnant around that time. I believe it was a mix between Levi transitioning a lot of emotions after Kenny's death, etc., and having more free time on his hands since they weren't doing expeditions while preparing for the mission… and well… let's say they decided to go handy, haha.

With that said… I think Levi would hardly admit it out loud, but he's one of those guys who always wanted to be parents, so they kinda said, "You know what? Fuck it, if it happens, it happens," and well, it happened almost immediately. Levi hears the news around two months later, and let me tell you, this man is all over the moon. He wants to be part of EVERYTHING. For me, Levi wants to prove that he is better than the men who failed his mother and also failed him. Levi wants to prove he can be a present father.

She goes to the doctor for just a check, he wants to be there. Better keep his man informed because he would ask a million questions. He's a first-time father, and she may sneeze, and he's all worried. Levi saw too many women die in childbirth or from difficult pregnancies in the underground. He's blessed with the chance of being a father, but also terrified. Levi feels that if he loses his love just because he "grew selfish" and asked for more (aka asked for a kid), he would feel horrible.

Anyways, back in the day, men waited outside during birth, and I believe they would try to kick Levi out of the room, and he would be like, "and who is going to stop me?" He wants to be there.

Now is when his baby boy comes into the picture. I believe, and God bless the mother, he was such a healthy CHUNKY boy. He was BIG. Those kinds of kids that look so healthy but at the same time, it's like "he literally sucked her dry, that baby took anything the mother has to offer."

Like, she's too tired after childbirth, and the nurses offer Levi feeding bottles with milk to keep the baby eating while the mother rests… and the baby is EATING to the point a doctor comes, pats Levi's arm playfully, and says, "Hope you've a good salary, Captain, because that kid is going to eat like a horse."

Perhaps these are the only few times that Levi is the most excited out of the two, she's tired from all the work, and Levi is over the moon. Ah, but don't you dare to touch his baby without washing your hands. If Levi could force you to take a bath in chlorine before even getting close to his baby, he would.

Aside from that, I think Levi's baby boy that I've named in my mind "Adrien" because Y/N thinks that naming her kids with A's to match the last name, especially since Ackerman's are finally able to not be in hiding.

In my mind, Adrien inherits Kenny's height. Yes, as you heard, KENNY'S HEIGHT. 190cm (6'3"). He's a big boy. I think it's funny that all the doctors check the baby and say, "haha, he's going to be tall!" and Levi is there looking at her like "… I don't like to admit I'm short as fuck, but if the kid isn't mine you can tell me," joking obviously, lmao.

"Levi, the kid is a photocopy of you."

Adrien is an extremely playful, happy, and hyperactive kid. He's so cheerful, and it makes Levi wish his mother was around so he could ask if he was such a cheerful kid too.

Chunky fat legs running down the halls as he doesn't even speak properly, but he already knows which office is daddy's office. He loves horses, he loves playing soldier, he loves being a daddy's boy.

This is when I mention that I believe Levi having a single child wasn't his original plan. I think he wished to give Adrien a sibling to make sure he won't be alone in life if anything ever happens to him as he was. But the whole rumbling happened, and after that, Levi was too busy trying to move him and his family outside of Paradise and after that settling down, taking care of Gabi and Falcon, that well time flew, and when everything was back to calmness, haha, well let's say that Levi had to admit that the train had left the station, and his energy to go back to change diapers had kinda withdrawn, lmao.

Finally, I think Adrien was a very hyperactive kid mainly because of the Ackerman genes. He has energy, he has strength, he has the abilities. He just has too much bottled up and doesn't know how to get tired. Levi is basically running around making sure the kid isn't jumping from the roof or climbing the kitchen cupboards. He probably ends up signing him up for a bunch of activities: baseball, self-defense classes, football, triathlon.

I have a bunch of other headcanons, so let me know if you want more!"

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[punkzines]

flashback

part 1 || part 2

summary: you were drowning but were saved.

a/n: this is actually really bad. but i wanted to show ya’ll how godzilla and reader met frfr.

You couldn’t breathe.

How long was it, since you took your last, deep breath?- Please let me breathe- Only the salty cold water entered your lungs, you were drowning. They filled up with water so fast yet so painfully slow- you could feel it. You were about to die, you knew it. There was no point in fighting it anymore. You were weak- someone help me.

The ocean currents were unforgiving, harsh. They didn’t care that you had a whole life ahead of you. You were at its mercy. You moved and moved like a ragdoll, you were not in control. You never were. And you could barely hear the screams of the others who are in the same position as you, or you may be hallucinating their screams, they could be dead! Or maybe you are dead, and your death is just replaying and replaying and replaying-

A big wave had hit your boat - where is that damn boat- a wave of bad luck but your birthday did always bring that type of thing, didn’t it? You had a feeling that this would happen. Nevertheless, you’d been on this big boat, a party! And it was sunny! Fuck, fuck, fuck- There were a lot of people, people who you didn’t know about, strangers. I hope they survive- Your family hadn’t come either, since you lived pretty far away from them. You were supposed to go meet them next week to celebrate your special day.

Seems like they were coming to meet you instead, huh? They’ll never find your body though.

And now, here you were— falling deep into the depths of the ocean, time passed in a blur. You could feel yourself slipping, your lungs heavy, and the pain was beginning to blur out. Maybe the pain was too great to even feel at this point. Who knows, you’ve probably gone numb. You couldn’t even register what was happening anymore.

What was it? Oh yes, death! You were dying. Slowly.

Oh and your pet? What will they do? Will they miss you? It was home, all alone it pained you to think that it would think you left them. I love you, I love you, I-

Dying wasn’t for the faint of heart. But, you never really cared for death. I don’t want to die- You never really cared if you died and you were never scared of it. I don’t want to die- Why- no, how could you be? It was inevitable, and you’ve been around it millions of times. You’ve witnessed it. I don’t want to die- You’ve witnessed wild animals getting killed, plants get killed, humans getting killed.

Everything eventually dies, so instead of finding death scary, you find comfort in it. I’m dying- Somehow though, you wish things had played differently. But…Knowing you were not alone, that you weren’t the only one dying is…nice. I’m sorry-

Dying…is….

You finally feel the darkness set in.

Everyone knew of the monster that swam in the waters and rose to the land when there was a disturbance or simply to rest up there- how could they not? It never went unnoticed.

His body was strong, that the strong deadly waves did not have an effect on him. He illuminated the darkness, and displayed a clear view of the dead bodies. He had heard the disaster and decided to take a look, although it was unnecessary because there was no one alive at the scene- until he heard it, a beat.

A human heart, although faint and weak, he could still hear it.

And then- he spots them, the body diving deeper into the depths of the ocean. Unmoving.

Strangely, you’d been woken up by a severe coughing fit. Water poured out of you, and it was uncontrollable. You moved to your side instinctively, grasping at your heart. You really couldn’t stop until you did- which is when you fell back onto the…sand?

Something prickly was sticking itself to you, you think.

…

It hurts to think.

It hurt to feel.

And it really hurts to breathe.

And your eyes hurt to even open. You still opened them because despite everything, you were still a human and were caught off guard. Not that you knew that.

And you begin to regret opening your eyes, because the blinding light of the sun hurts, even if you saw everything through a blurred lens. And your eyes wandered lazily as you still coughed.

And your eyes landed on a specifically odd structure, maybe a rock? It was close to you, loomed over you. But you couldn’t really tell what it was, and you certainly couldn’t keep your mind focused on it because—

— Everything ached.

What had happened, you did not know.

You couldn’t muster up the strength to move, nor the strength to even- soon, the world around you faded into darkness as you slipped into unconsciousness once again.

───────────────────────

a/n: anyways anyone think Godzillas gay?

[sage-green-matcha]

NO TIME TO DIE - JACK CHAMPION 🌬️

Grammy and Brits winner Y/n Y/l/n meets with Jack Champion for a night full of flirting and awards ;)

Content Includes: flirting, singing, awards show, idk you just being famous and successful 💅

A/n: gonna be gone for a day or two so here’s a longer oneshot for y’all!! <33

<3

<3

<3

“You ready?” You shook uncomfortably in your black dress, the material heavy as you dragged it around. “I’m scared, this is the fucking Oscar’s what if I trip over the dress?” You frowned, a blush brush now on your face. “You look great, you’re gonna do fine” You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were gonna suck. You couldn’t believe that you were here. Sure you’d been to the Grammys and the Brits but the Oscars? Never in a million years did you imagine that you’d be here.

You were nominated for best original song and you also had a small role in handing out awards. That you weren’t nervous for, but performing in front of hundreds of amazing actors, that scared the shit out of you. You were one of the youngest nominees here, besides Jack Champion. Who you might’ve developed a small crush on during the event practice.

“I’m scared, I’m gonna vomit” You felt sick, nervous, all of the above. “Take a deep breath, warm up your voice. You’ll be fine, you always do amazing” You furrowed your eyebrows, singing a random melody as you waited at the side of the stage. The curtain was closed, it was only till the song started that you had to be faced with the hundreds of faces of popular actors, and a balcony full of fans.

“Okay, it’s go time” You looked at the orchestra as you walked across the stage, sitting down on a stool that they had for you. Your team followed, fixing your hair and applying more gloss to your lips to make sure you’d look amazing. Your stomach bubbled with anxiety, fixing your earpiece as someone handed you the mic.

“James Bond films are an indelible part of our cinematic history. Legendary Franchise has produced six Oscar-nominated songs including the title track from our film “No Time to Die” The curtain was drawn open, eyes luckily not on you. It was dark, a small smile coming from your pianists, giving you a sense of security.

“With this exquisite and haunting piece, our next performer has captured the feeling of this film in ways that could only be expressed by music. Please welcome the phenomenal artists and songwriter who co-wrote it, Y/n Y/L/n”

The crowd applauded and you took a deep breath, instructions being given to you through your earpiece. “Okay….and start the music” You felt a shiver run down your spine as the piano started up, blue and white lights surrounding the stage. You kept your eyes closed, taking a breath before you started to sing.

“I should’ve known, I’d leave alone. Just goes to show, that the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe”

You had been instructed to cut to the bridge, eyes still closed in fear of ruining your performance with anxiety.

“Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That if fallen for a lie” you took a stable breath, the lyrics falling flawlessly from your lips.

“You were never on my side. Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise? Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” the orchestra started behind you, opening your eyes to be met with the crowd.

“I let it burn, you’re no longer my concern”

Your voice was filled with emotion, melodically beautiful. The orchestra fit with your voice so well, lights and screen visuals tying the whole performance in.

“Faces from my past return, another lesson yet, to learn” You stood from the stool, giving yourself space to sing. The room had gone dark, all fear washing away from you. You felt the lyrics in you, this is exactly what you imagined it would look like when you were writing it.

Darkness, piano, lights, violin. It was cool to finally be in the place that inspired you. “That id fallen for a lie, you were never on my side” Your voice was airy, loud, and full of emotion. Your hand was placed on your chest as you continued to sing, your eyes trying to spot out faces in the crowd.

“Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” The music got louder, building up to climax. You brought the microphone higher up, your voice filling in the melody with the orchestra. “No time to die, mhm” You took the deepest breath, vocalizing along with your hand to your chest. Feeling the music in your heart.

You brought the mic to your lips, pulling it away as you hit a note. You cheered in your brain, you actually managed to pull it off. The musicians behind you got louder, your voice did too. After seconds of instruments filling your ears you got to the last line, giving your voice a break from the song.

“There’s just no time to die” You smiled at the audience, applauses filling your ears with cheers coming from all sides of the theater. You gave a thumbs up to your pianists, turning around to clap at the beautiful orchestra that performed along with you.

“We did it, oh my god we did it” you squealed as you exited the stage. You felt yourself fill with pride, trying your best not to get emotional. “Uhm I just performed at the Oscars? And I literally did so well?” You laughed, running over to your manager. “See? I told you, you did so well” You pouted your lips, noticing her wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, come on this is supposed to be exciting”

You dragged the dress back to your green room, smiling at the other performers who were up next. “God, I’m shaking” you grinned. “I was shaking bro! I swear your voice was just like ugh, so fucking good” You smiled, taking the compliment.

You had a bit of free time before you had to preset awards, your manager taking you to the red carpet. “Hey! Y/n…uhm I really enjoyed your performance, you looked beautiful” Jack Champion, your heart paused as you looked up at him, the tall boy smiling at you. “Oh, thank you!” “Of course, you sound really good…like really good” he scratched the back of his neck, nodding.

“Congratulations on your nomination by the way, good luck” You met his eyes as the line moved forward, almost close to getting on the carpet. “Yea! Yea, thanks, I heard you were nominated too, but that performance just won like all the awards” You smiled at his awkwardness. “I don’t know, the other songs are just so amazing” you laughed.

“If you don’t win, people are gonna riot” you blushed, thanking him once again. “You’re all red Y/n, come on you’re next” You went through the carpet, showing off your custom designer-made dress. It was something you had been envisioning for months. Bunched up black silk with a corset bodice, lace gloves with a diamond necklace.

“So who are we here with today?” You stood in front of the camera with a smile. “I’m Y/n y/l/n, how are you?” “I’m doing so good! I mean I just watched your performance and I think this is the best I’ve ever been in my life” You laughed at the compliment, more blush filling your face.

You answered a couple more questions before getting more pictures taken, the photographers screaming your name. “Y/n! Get one with Jack!” You looked over at him and he smiled, walking over to hug your side. You felt your heart beating in your chest, his hand staying on your waist as you walked down the line.

“So sweet of you to walk me down the carpet” you teased. “Just trying to impress you” You smiled and he let go of your waist. “I’ll see you around” he waved before his team dragged him backstage. “Y/n..focus” your manager smiled. “I am focused!”

You walked around for the rest of the night, getting drinks and saying hello to the other nominees. You sat back in your assigned seat, drink in hand before smiling at your stylist. “You ate with this dress, I really can’t I’ve been getting compliments all night” You rested your head on her shoulder with a smile. “You know I try my best, but seriously it was all you. You do really look beautiful Y/n…and I think Jack thinks so too” She nudged you under the table, your focus now on jacks table. He was with his mom and manager, smiling over at you.

“He’s so cute I might die” you exaggerated. “He’s into you, girl I think you’ll be going home with a new man tonight!” You covered your smile, taking a drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

A couple more awards passed and it was your turn to give them out. You were accompanied by Zoë Kravitz, one of your lifelong idols.

You got on stage, hugging her before the segment started. “I’m Zoë Kravitz” “And I'm Y/n Y/l/n, and we are honored to be announcing the award for best actor of the year!” Zoë read out the nominees, the red envelope in your hand waiting to be opened.

“And the Oscar goes to...” You opened the red envelope with a small mischievous smile. “Jack Champion” the camera cut to the smiley boy, hugging his mom before going up on stage. “This is the first Oscar and nomination for the amazing Jack champion” you added, Jack coming up the stairs with a smile. “Congratulations” You pulled him into a hug, his face red as you handed him the award.

“Well uhm, wow. I just wanted to say thank you. To the fans, to my family. This is something really huge!” He laughed, your heart happy for him. “Thank you to James Cameron, Dileep Rao, and Dr . Max Patel. Thank you to all my co-stars, you guys are all so, so amazing” he held up the award proudly, stepping off stage as you handed out the next three awards.

“Hey! Congratulations! I knew you could do it” You came up to his table during the intermission. “Thank you” he got up, hugging you with a smile. “You raised a good kid Mrs. Champion” Your manager came up behind you, complimenting and congratulating him and his mom.

“Yea, thanks, Good luck with your award, I’m sure you’re gonna win” you blushed. Thanking him again before you walked back to your table, cameras rolling once again.

You felt your heart beating faster, the camera on you for your reaction. “Next we have the award for best original song, and our nominees are..” you smiled up at the screen, your competitors on the large tv. You felt your heart race, you knew you’d be fine if you didn’t win. But yet again winning would be really fucking cool.

“And the Oscar goes to..” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second. The sound of the envelope opening making your heart race. Zoë laughed before reading out the name, “Y/n y/l/n” Your heart dropped, face covering your hands as your stylist and manager jumped to hug you.

You walked up the steps, carefully to not step on your dress. “Uhm…oh my god?” You couldn’t hide your smile, award in hand. “Okay uhm…well, I wanna say thank you! To my stylist, my manager. My amazing co-actors and team. I love you guys so much, I’d be a mess without you all. I also Wanna Thank my family who sadly couldn’t be here. But I wanna thank them for their support! Also thank you to Hans Zimmer, Stephan Lipson for helping me produce this amazing track, this award is for you! And lastly thank you to the recording academy for this beautiful opportunity” You smiled once again, waving the award before walking back to the table.

“What the fuck?” “I told you that you’d win!” They hugged you tightly, the award carefully placed on the table. It was so much more than just an award to you. So much time and effort went into the track, and the final product was so satisfying.

“I’m so tired, I might die” You plopped down on the couch of your green room, taking off your tall, black heels. “Ready for the after-party look?” She pulled it out from the rack, it was similar to the dress you had on, just less extravagant. It had the same beautiful bodice, bodice, with the same slit just more toned down. It was more of a lacy material, a shawl made of the same thin black fabric. “I’m wearing my sneakers with this I don’t care” you laughed.

You got changed into the dress, surprisingly the sneakers didn’t look too bad with it. “Looking beautiful as always, now let’s head out before we get stuck in traffic” As you exited the green room everyone was already leaving. You spotted Jack through the crowd, his tall figure standing out against everyone else.

“Hey! You going to the after party?” “I’m not sure yet! Are you?” You nodded, adjusting your shawl. “Yea okay, I’ll be there” you smiled at him. “where are you gonna put yours?” You asked, matching Oscars in hand. “I think I’m gonna build a thrown just for it” “Seriously?” You laughed. “Yea! I’ll put it up on a pedestal, it’ll look great” You just smiled as he took your hand, your friends following behind the two of you.

Photographers lined up along the exit of the theater. You got into your car before you waved at Jack. “I’ll see you later?” He nodded, letting go of your hand. You watched as your two managers exchanged something, yours getting into the car. “He’s got you so whipped you forgot to get his number. Here you go” She handed you the small slip of paper.

“You looked beautiful tonight, congratulations <3 Can’t wait to see you soon!!! Here’s my number - Yours, Jack :)”

[starboyyoongi]

heated. ateez au

⭑ summary: your team only had one rule and that was to never kidnap a civilian. wooyoung, jongho, mingi, and yunho find themselves narrowly escaping death after you find out that they broke said rule.

or, in which things take a turn for the worse when four men kidnap a civilian and they have to face the consequences.

⭑ pairing: ateez (ot8) x black female!reader

⭑ warnings/tags: cursing, gang au, reader is leader/boss of the gang, kidnapping, angst, mentions of murder, gets funny and crack-ish towards the end, ???? to crush, mingi acts as san’s wingman

⭑ notes: i worked on this in my notes app on and off for like a week or so. i did proofread this, but there may still be mistakes don’t kill me please. feel free to leave your thoughts and enjoy! xx

TO SAY THAT you were going to be pissed was an understatement.

what would usually be a noisy car ride back home was now eerily quiet. no one had uttered a word since they had gotten in the car and started the dreaded hour long drive. you often praised the boys for their kind hearted nature despite their jobs and how intense could be at times. they were the water to your fire; the yin to your yang. years of friendship, loyalty, and working with together proved that.

maybe that’s why tonight they had done what was the unthinkable and kept telling themselves that it would be okay. they hoped that the soft spot you had for all of them would override any anger that you may have towards them. it was total bullshit of course, but for the next hour they chose to believe it.

san was completely unaware of the heavy tension in the car. after all, his hands were tied and he had been ordered to stay quiet. his head was swimming with a million and one thoughts. how did he go from handing out bags full of books to customers to being sandwiched between two men who hadn’t said anything past “be quiet” to him? san wanted to kick and scream, do anything that could possibly get him out of this situation, but he couldn’t.

he was terrified to say the least.

san took a look around the car. aside from the two men he was in between, there were two more upfront. one was driving and the other was in the passenger seat. he didn’t know either of their names, but he supposed that it wasn’t important. there was a good chance that he was going to die soon anyways. out of his peripheral vision, he could see the man on his right’s jaw clench and unclench every couple of seconds. that couldn’t mean anything good. san gulped a little before turning his attention to the man seated on the other side of him.

unlike the man on the right, he seemed to be lost in thought. he kept alternating between picking at his fingers and running them through his already messy black hair. the car slowly came to a stop just as the light changed from yellow to red. the man in the driver’s seat was the first to break the silence.

“she’s going to fucking kill us.”

“thanks for stating the obvious, yunho,” the man in the passenger seat said in a sarcastic tone. “anything else you wanna mention? maybe tell us how she’s going to skin us alive?”

“or shoot us in the head instead” the man to san’s left chimed in.

yunho let out a frustrated sigh as the light turned green. as the four men began to converse with one another, san couldn’t help but feel awkward. it’s like he was invisible to them. which sort of made sense seeing as how he didn’t know the four of them and vice versa. plus, he had been kidnapped for fuck sakes. of course they were going to ignore his presence.

san watched as the four men bickered with one another and threw out insults every now and then, eventually figuring out who was who. mingi was on his right, wooyoung was on his left, yunho was the one who was driving, and jongho was in the passenger seat.

the four men’s looks didn’t go unnoticed by san either. all of them were very attractive to say the least and san couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing in a gang. mingi alone looked like he was straight out of an issue of vogue.

with a jawline like that he can make some lucky brand millions. shit, all four of them can if they wanted to, san thought to himself.

“what excuse are we going to come up with anyways? you guys got any ideas?” wooyoung asked, cutting through san’s thoughts.

upon hearing his question, the others fell silent.

truth be told, none of them had really thought that far. as dumb as it sounded, they were kind of banking on years of friendship to get them through this mess. but deep down they knew that it wasn’t going to work.

kidnapping civilians wasn’t you guys’s thing—at all. and everyone on the team knew that. it was always advised against and avoided as much as possible. kidnapping civilians meant that you guys had an extra person (or people) to be responsible for which also meant that there was going to be more problems for everyone involved which also meant that shit was most likely going to go south.

and they knew this. all four of them knew this yet they still decided to take san with them and shove him into their car.

in other words, they were fucked.

“so, um,” san awkwardly cleared his throat as he began to speak. “when are you guys going to let me go? i’d like it if you guys would let me go back home in one piece, please.”

“we can’t.” jongho answered immediately as he met san’s curious gaze in the rear view mirror.

san furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not understanding what jongho had said. “what do you mean that you can’t? you just said that you’re going to get in trouble for taking– i mean, kidnapping me. wouldn’t letting me go make things easier?”

“contrary to what you may think, that would actually fuck things up even more,” mingi said. “if we let you go now there’s a chance that you’re going to go to the police and tell them everything and we can’t have that happening.”

“i won’t go to the police. i promise.”

“you were a witness to a violent shoot out, kidnapped by the four of us, and you know what all of us look like.”

san opened his mouth to rebuttal, but mingi held his hand up as he continued, “you’re also an employee where this entire thing took place. even if you don’t go to the police, they’re going to come to you and there’s no guarantee that you’re going to say quiet.”

“if you’re saying that i’m going to crack under pressure or something then i won’t” san said almost a little too confidently.

mingi rolled his eyes and sighed. “the police in seoul don’t give a shit about whether or not you won’t crack under pressure. they’re going to make you talk whether you like it or not.”

at that, san hummed in response.

mingi was right. he’s never had a brush with the law before, but he knew enough to know there was some truth to what mingi was saying. the police in seoul were known for being ruthless and corrupt. even if san did decide to stay quiet, he knew that it wouldn’t do him any favors. someone was bound to get whatever answer they wanted out of him by any means necessary.

“so… what? you’re just going to drive around with me or something?” san asked to no one in particular.

“no,” yunho said as he came to another stop light. he took a slight pause before he continued. “we’re taking you to our boss.”

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

as soon as san stepped through the elevator doors, he heard someone lowly whistle. he looked forward to see a somewhat short, pink haired man staring at him and the others with a disappointed look on his face.

“you guys are fucked,” he chuckled. his gaze lingered on san for a few seconds longer before he turned on his heel and began walking towards the kitchen. “so, so fucked.”

mingi loudly sighed and mumbled something under his breath that san couldn’t quite catch. he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was standing in someone’s very expensive and very well furnished penthouse.

he’d never felt so poor in his entire life.

as wooyoung pushed him along to the living room, san couldn’t help but feel like he was in some magazine. from the floors to the carefully placed art pieces on the walls to the giant television that sat on the wall, everything felt so rich and so opulent. he’d never seen anything like it.

once they had reached the massive living space, wooyoung pushed san onto one of the two couches and told him to wait. san opened his mouth to say something, but wooyoung was already wandering off somewhere else.

meanwhile in the kitchen, yunho was telling his pink haired friend how everything in the last two hours had went down. by the time he was finished, the man was staring at him in disbelief. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“i don’t know, yunho… i don’t think that she’s going to let this slide. on top of that, you brought him to her house of all places” hongjoong said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“i know,” yunho groaned. “but i didn’t know where else to take him. plus i figured that she should see him for herself.”

“why? so she can kill him, too?”

yunho gave his friend a pointed look. “she’s not going to kill him. or us. i think.”

“you think? yeah, you guys are definitely fucked. do you prefer cremation or open casket?”

“oh, fuck you.”

hongjoong laughed as he took a swig of his drink then said, “i know you want to, babe. what time should i be over at yours?”

“you cheeky son of a bitch” yunho laughed as he took a sip of his own drink.

hongjoong smiled as if to say ‘that’s me’ before he started to do a sweep over of the place. just as he was about to focus his attention back on yunho, he spotted a familiar figure entering the room. he cleared his throat and placed his drink on the counter before raising his voice a little to say,

“hey, boss.”

at those words, the room came to a halt. all eyes were on you as you made eye contact with a visibly tense and frightened san. nervously, he stood up and slightly bowed his head towards you. he had no idea what he was supposed to do, but if you were truly the boss like yunho said you were then he was going to act accordingly. after all, you were standing between death and him living to see another day.

you held eye contact with san for what seemed like forever before gesturing for yunho, wooyoung, jongho, and mingi to come forward. you walked over to the couch opposite from the one san had been occupying and sat down. you leaned back and rested one of your arms on the back of the couch. the casualness of your form was a stark contrast to the obvious anger that was radiating off of your body.

all four men stood in front of you and it was clear from how they were avoiding making eye contact that something was wrong. san, much like hongjoong, looked on in curiosity. he didn’t know any of these men personally, but how they acted in the car an hour ago was a far cry to how they were acting now. they looked scared, terrified even, and you hadn’t even said anything to them yet.

“what happened?” you asked, an eerily calmness to your voice.

“we ran into an… issue so to speak during our mission,” yunho answered. “we weren’t exactly sure what to do seeing as how there’s a chance that san might go to the police. so we brought him here.”

“an issue? what was the issue? because to me, it seems like the issue is still present.”

yunho opened his mouth to respond, but jongho beat him to it and began to explain what happened just a few hours earlier. it was evident to everyone, jongho included, that you were not pleased with what you were hearing. the tick of your jaw and the angry look on your face was more than enough to make jongho falter in his words a few times and make everyone in the room tense up. when you looked to wooyoung and mingi for answers, all you got was silence in return. neither of them wanted to say anything out of fear of further angering you.

your eyes flickered between the four men and san. you let out a deep sigh and shook your head before you started to laugh. it was the type of laugh that completely void of any humor—one that they (and anyone who crossed you) had heard one too many times to count.

“i asked you to do one fucking thing. and not only do you go against my orders, you also have the audacity to bring this shit to my doorstep,” there was an edge to your voice as you spoke. “and what, you expected me to pat you on the back and say that it’s okay? that you did a good job? do you have any idea what you four have done?”

“boss, we didn’t mean to cause any problems on purpose. please, if you allow us to—” wooyoung’s words were cut off almost instantly.

since he was standing only a few feet away from you, it took you all of five seconds to walk towards him and wrap your hand around his throat in a tight grip. wooyoung’s hands immediately flew up to grab your arm, but he made no move to remove your hand. your head tilted to the side as you watched him start to struggle to breathe. your grip tightened as you brought your face close to his and continued to speak.

“do you really think that i give a fuck about what you have to say to me right now? huh?”

“n-no, boss. i’m sorry.”

“i should put a bullet right in between your fucking eyes. all five of you.”

“b-boss, please,” wooyoung choked out. “we didn’t mean to c-cause any harm. he didn’t deserve to get h-hurt.”

you let out a breathy laugh and squeezed his neck even tighter. “whatever fate he was going to face would have been ten times better than what he’s about to face right now. did you really think that bringing him here was going to go well?”

this time, you glanced at the other three who were anxiously watching the scene unfold in front of them. this was not how they had expected things to go. they knew that you would be angry, but this was beyond that; you were furious.

“yeosang.”

at the sound of his name being called, the long haired man quietly walked towards you and placed a gun in your now open palm. without hesitation, you held it right up to the side of wooyoung’s head. his eyes widened and he gripped your arm tightly, almost as if he was trying to get you to not pull the trigger.

from the corner of your eye, you could see mingi step forward, mouth opened and ready to speak. but with one look from you, he froze in his steps. hongjoong, jongho, and yunho on the other hand continued to look on in fear. in all their years of working with you they’d never seen you this angry before. the boys had their fair share of fuck ups, sure, but it’s never gotten to this point before.

this type of energy was usually reserved for those who crossed you—not for them and especially not for wooyoung.

although no one said it out loud, they were all wondering the same thing: were you really going to kill wooyoung over a mistake like this?

fuck it, hongjoong thought to himself before he finally spoke up. “this is too far, boss. i don’t think that you should do this.”

you gritted your teeth before replying, “i didn’t ask for your opinion, kim. keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“no,” hongjoong said with a slight raise of his voice. “you’re about to make a mistake. i know that they fucked up, but would you really go as far as killing wooyoung? one of your own?”

hongjoong’s question hung in the air as the room fell silent once more. everyone waited with baited breath for your response.

to the others, it didn’t seem like you’d be backing down. your incredibly tight grip around wooyoung’s throat never loosened and your gun remained in the same place, finger lightly pressed against the trigger. it felt like any second now that their friend’s blood and brains were going to decorate your floors and walls.

but that’s when wooyoung saw it.

he saw the way your body tensed up immediately at hongjoong’s words and how the look on your face began to falter. he saw how the look in your eyes changed from pure anger to regret or something awfully close to it. and he definitely saw how you were contemplating hongjoong’s words and perhaps your actions, too altogether.

and even though he could hardly breathe and tears were forming in his eyes at the thought of being so close to death, wooyoung knew.

and you knew that he knew.

you held his gaze for a few seconds longer before you released him from your grip. wooyoung immediately fell to floor coughing and trying to take in deep breaths. hongjoong immediately rushed over to make sure that he was okay as mingi, yunho, and jongho breathed out a sigh of relief. mingi glanced over at san who had been watching the entire time from a mere few feet away.

he stood there frozen in place, eyes never leaving your form and mingi suddenly found himself feeling bad for the man. in just two hours, his life had been turned completely upside down and he almost witnessed someone dying in front of him. mingi then briefly wondered what his fate was going to be. he secretly hoped that he would live to see another day.

just as he began to move towards san, you grabbed him by his wrist and stopped him.

in a low tone, you said, “i’ll arrange for seonghwa to take san home. the four of you are going to stay here tonight. we’re not done yet.”

you let his wrist go then stepped past him and muttered something in yeosang’s ear. he nodded before you placed the gun back in his hand and disappeared down the hallway, presumably back to your room.

mingi let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding before he made his way over to san.

“hey,” he said, snapping san out of his thoughts. “it looks like you can go home now. someone is going to come and get you.”

san blinked incredulously. “someone’s taking me home? i can go home?”

mingi nodded in response.

relieved, san blew out a breath and rubbed his hands over his face. seeing that they were still bound together, mingi began to untie the rope. it took no longer than ten seconds to do so since the knot wasn’t tied too tightly.

“so,” san said as he rubbed at his wrists. “does this mean that she won’t kill me? or is someone going to finish the job later on?”

mingi awkwardly rubbed the side of his neck, unsure of what to say. “i don’t know. if she didn’t kill wooyoung then… maybe she won’t kill you either.”

“good. it’d be a damn shame if i died before we could go on our date.”

mingi looked at san in disbelief. there’s no way that he heard that right.

did he?

“i’m sorry, what? what do you mean by dat–“

“i think that your boss is hot,” san said rather bluntly. “and even though she scares the fuck out of me and nearly killed someone, i have to admit that a part of me liked seeing her like that.”

“you liked seeing her… like that? you do know that you were her next target, right?”

“yeah, but now i’m not. which means that i can ask her out. do you know what places she likes going to by any chance?”

“you can’t afford them anyways so it makes no sense telling you. but, are you– you’re being serious right now? you want to date her? after all of that?”

“yes.”

“your positive? absolutely sure?”

“yes. of course i am.”

“jesus fucking christ…” mingi mumbled before he groaned out loud.

he did not get paid enough for this shit.

(that was a lie. he gets paid more than enough actually).

“san? let’s go!” mingi heard seonghwa call out from across the room. he briefly turned around to give the older man a smile, which he returned, before turning back to san.

san gave mingi a smile before he leaned in and said, “i’ll leave my number with seonghwa is it? yeah. text me her number and stuff when you get the chance to.”

“are you fucking stu–“ mingi began to ask, but his words fell on deaf ears as san walked away from him.

he watched as the two men exchanged a few words before they walked towards the elevator together. mingi couldn’t help but crack a smile. san was bold. way too bold for his own good, but he had to admit that it was impressive to see.

and in some weird way, he wanted to see how things would play out. a part of him felt like it was going to end horribly, but the other part of him felt like maybe some good could come out of the situation.

“good luck, san…” mingi mumbled to himself. “you’re gonna need it.”

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

TWO WEEKS LATER

“i’ll see you tomorrow!” san called out to his coworker.

pushing through the bookstore’s double glass doors, san breathed in the crisp spring air. his shift was finally over and he couldn’t be any happier. as he fished his car keys out of his pocket, he went through his notifications that had piled up throughout the day.

as he swiped away a few emails and promotional offers from one of the many food apps that he had, his phone buzzed with a new text notification. he glanced at the message and tilted his head in confusion at the mysterious person’s number written in bold letters followed by a hey.

he hummed and opened the notification before he started to type out a response. a new message came in a few seconds later, this time with a number and a name attached.

04-xxxx-xxxx

hey

04-xxxx-xxxx

i still think that it’s a bad idea but my boss’s number is 01-xxxx-xxxx. oh and this is mingi btw

san

how do i know that you aren’t setting me up?

mingi

you already did that to yourself when you decided to crush on my boss of all people

good luck dummy

try not to die btw. i don’t get paid extra for cleaning up your remains

[love-toxin]

hi! hello! just wanna say that i will give Tsung, Mel, Seóirse, Makoi, Adrain and Shura the most sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, life changing, death dropping, flabbergasting, hypnotizing, heavenly, astonishing, leg trembling, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, leg shaking, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing head. (not my words, but i live by them.)

let's explore this anon :)

(cws: gn!darling, bullying, humiliation kink, orgasm denial, "dubcon" but not really, spit, teasing, gagging, extended cum release™, name-calling, dom/sub dynamics)

Tsung Lý

"Please please please please ple--please--fuck-!"

Tsung could never just shut up when you were doing your thing. God forbid you ever wanted to get frisky with him outside the bedroom, he'd probably alert the whole city to your activites and you'd have to deal with your boyfriend getting all scared and fidgety when you were just trying to get some.

"Shut up." You huffed as you brought your head up, mouth slick and lips swollen from the treatment you'd been giving him. "You're too loud."

"I'm s-sorry, baby." Tsung's whines only served to irritate you more. He was such a wimp. That quivering lower lip--no wonder everyone thought of him as a freak. You gave him a tough squeeze and he doubled over on himself, shoulders shaking as he gripped your head and tried desperately not to make a sound. The slow, wet strokes of your fist up his soaked cock filled the air with hushed, laborious breathing from his panting chest. You wanted desperately to mock him for being so hard again, but that would undoubtedly only make him hornier.

"I-I...I wanna cum-"

"You can't."

"Please."

You rolled your eyes, and wordlessly, you stuck your head back down and nuzzled it into his lap, your hair sliding through his fingers as he babbled out some plea that soon melted into nothing more than a cry of pleasure. The moment your lips touched his cock, all thought was out the window.

"Please, baby!" He cried hoarsely, desperately begging with every stroke of your tongue on his spit-soaked length. "I-I'm gonna die! Lemme cum, please, ple-hease!"

As much as you wanted to remind him "You're not gonna die from getting sucked off" it wouldn't make a difference anyways. Tsung's fingers tightened around your head, he bucked once, and he was in your throat--miles and miles deeper in than he could handle without creaming it up like a milk carton exploding.

"Glk-!" The sound of your gagging only made him stiffen up more as he came. While your nails digging into his thighs surely hurt, Tsung's grip just tightened on your head and he wouldn't let you up--in the heat of the moment, apologies spilled off his lips for his terrible indiscretion of holding your head down while he beat your poor throat raw with needy thrusts. All that filled your ears was the wet shlucking of his cum filling your throat, lubing him up to glide with relative ease despite how tight you were clenching around him. "It's like fucking one of your other holes. It hurts. It feels so good. I love you!"

Over a minute later, you finally managed to pry yourself off of his lap with a bout of coughing and gasping desperately for air. The slime that coated your mouth all the way down tasted of nothing but salt on your tongue, while Tsung laid back as gutless as ever, pale thighs shaking gently as his cock continued to spurt little jets of milky-white pearls all over himself.

"F-Fffelt so good..." He gasped as if risen from the dead, though Tsung could still barely move since he was still--still!--cumming. And he wondered why you made him wait for his orgasms. Because of this.

"Making a goddamned mess." You muttered with a hoarse throat, yet your mouth started to wet as you watched his jerky thrusts into empty air. Salivating. Drooling over a preppy freak that you found humping your pillow, and just took ownership of him since he praised the ground you walked on anyways. Tsung was a million walking red flags, and he was a creep that obsessed over you so much he basically developed a crazy sex habit cause of you. Because you're so "perfect" in his words.

You laid your head on his thigh and watched his quivering slowly draw to a close, the cum stop bubbling up, and his breathing finally even out. A series of sticky little puddles soaked into your sheets below him, the dip of his stomach, the tip where it all collected--you leaned in to lap it up and wriggled your tongue against his slit, which earned you a yelp and a desperate hand on your shoulder like he wanted you to stop. As if. The sensitivity was just a bit much.

"C-Can't do another-"

"Yes you can." You gripped his thick shaft with slick fingers, each one wetted with your spit as you let a glob of it drool out of your mouth. "You ruined it for me, try it again."

"Nooooo-" He moaned weakly and squirmed, but wouldn't pull your wrist away from him. It was all just an act, a show, and loathe as you were to give him a compliment he was an incredible actor. He could even turn your focus away from the gleam in his scarlet eyes at the thought of being touched again, of being forced to cum again, but as good as he was at pretending nothing could hide how easily he grew stiff in your hand again. Tsung shed tears as you started your strokes and began the process anew...yet you were certain that the second he got the chance, he would take over and cum in your mouth without permission, again. Again, and again, and again--that's how it always went, right up until he couldn't take your magnificent torture anymore and passed out cold and sticky.

This little freak was so fucking dead--once you worked up the stamina to punish him properly, that is.

(cws: gn!darling, brat taming, cockwarming, choking, lazy sex, extra spicy teasing)

Mel Mimiya

Mel had so little pomp and circumstance in matters of carnal pleasure--if he hadn't explained his reasons to you, you would've thought he simply couldn't be bothered to put in the same effort with you that he gave to his clients at the hybrid club. For them he would purr, and stretch, and jingle around in that little bell collar, tending to every one of their needs with a smile and a sweet voice.

But at home he was an animal, and nothing more. He humped your face with urgent vigour some days, while others he laid back and let you bring yourself to all the heights you pleased while he watched. Though no matter what, he always looked at you as though you held the world. Today was no exception.

It had been quite the long day, however. Mel was tired. Lazy. Hadn't gotten enough of a nap on his break. Now, he was taking it out on you--his adorable partner that really missed him while he was out.

"Use your tongue," He murmured amongst his nest of blankets, all laid out like some prince on his royal bed. "Lick it slow, sweetie. Had a long day."

Only half-listening, you proceeded with your plan of working him right down your throat--while his day was long and full of exertion, yours was long and occupied with nothing but thoughts of going home and going to town on your catty boyfriend. He put you in your place the minute you had him in your mouth, though. Mel flicked your forehead gently as you choked down all his inches at once, forcing you to start and pull back off with a cough. "Slow, I said. You're such a little shit-stirrer." He chided, laughing in that breathy, nearly hoarse voice of his that made your stomach twist in knots. "So needy."

"You like it." You pouted, flicking out your tongue to at least get a taste of him, which he would've paid for dearly if he hadn't allowed it.

"I do." Mel reached down and ruffled your hair with a loving, gentle touch. God, his smile could spin gold, undoubtedly. "But I'm tired, baby."

"Then let me help you relax." Your fingers squished as they wrapped around his length, your slow strokes coaxing a whine out of his throat that made him tilt back his chin in pleasure. You watched with giddy glee at his lithe tail coming alive to loosely wrap around your forearm as you did so.

"You don't even know the meaning of the word," Mel gasped, but once again, you weren't listening. Your attention was zeroed in on the way his slit pooled with a clear liquid, the little puddle atop his cock gleaming in the dim lights you turned down to set the mood. "Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me."

His stern tone really didn't do as much when he could barely keep his voice from cracking, nor his hips from squirming away from the stimulating touch of your hand. The second flick of your tongue sent him reeling, and his ringed fingers grasped at the sheets with the softest, whiniest "myaow!".

"Good kitty." Your moan rumbled right through his lap, your lips far too eager to take him in despite how squirmy he was already.

"B-Bad human," Mel gasped right back. The glower on his face right then would scare off any prey--but you had something you wanted, and only the utterance of his safe word would keep you from getting it. He so rarely used it though, because he really just liked being a tease. "You need a leash." His last syllable ended on a groan that sent delectable shivers all down your spine. "A muzzle, too."

Just to show him what you really needed, you twisted your grip at the base and made his hips buck, incidentally plowing past the roof of your mouth with a deep hiss. Mel's tail flicked to and fro while he squeezed his eyes shut, only for one of those violet irises to squint down at you with a growl at the sight he beheld. Your lips pressed right against the flattest dip of his belly, thin, dark hairs tickling your nose where you'd seated yourself. Mel couldn't help but watch with held breath as your face grew darker and hotter the longer you kept yourself down; yet you wouldn't come up for air until the very last moment you had to.

Both his furry ears twitched with delight and a sense of pride, to say nothing of the utter heat you brought on by enveloping his entire length in such a tight, soft hole that kept spasming and pulsing around him the longer you warmed him.

Mel's fingertips brushed the hair from your eyes to see you better. The vision of you like this, for him, would never fail to remind him of all he had to be grateful for--even when the moment was broken by you frantically yanking your head back and coughing as he slid out from your lips, your head obviously spinning from the deprivation as you immediately took a minute to clear your throat--and catch your breath, of course. You knelt there with a hand on your chest, huffing and puffing ad nauseum, until a peal of clear laughter rung out and Mel flopped back into the sheets.

"You're way too cute. Try again--take a deep breath this time, sweetie. Let's train those lungs of yours, ah?"

(cws: gn!darling, size difference, bondage, cock worship, soft -> rough, selkie heat cycles in action)

Seóirse Braonain

"Baby, you're gonna break the bed."

Seóirse was aghast. How you could blitz him with one of the wettest, sloppiest, bone-rattling orgasms he'd had in his life, and expect him not to start going numb and dazed and flailing about when you started back up all over again...it was criminal. It was foul.

But it was something he needed desperately, as humiliated as he was to admit it. He was a creature that desired pleasure, as many were, but more particular he was than that--he needed pleasure from you, or else what was the point of even living? If your attention wasn't on him, what the hell did he even wake up in the mornings for?

There were caveats to that, though. For one, Seóirse was big. Like, big. So in order to make sure he didn't rip a hole in your throat, or choke you to the point of collapsing one of your lungs...

...You had to come to this humiliating conclusion. He had to be tied down like an animal, bound at the wrists and ankles--subdued--and only then would you get down on your knees and service him as if it were your only job in the world.

And the worst part was that you were right. Deep down, when you had your hands on his thighs like you did right now, and you were teasing his third leg with those dastardly kitten licks? All Seóirse wanted to do was grab your head in his enormous hands and thrust. He wanted your belly pumped so full of cum he could see it swell. He wanted you to cough out his seed for a week after he was done.

But he wanted to be a good boy, and he didn't want to hurt you. So he let you tie him up to the bed, and he tried, god, he tried not to let his strength overwhelm you as you played with his cock in your soft hands.

"Mwah," Another kiss pecked so delicately to his tip, which had already flushed so dark it was nearly purple. The blood that rushed to his privates in heated moments like these always made his mind fuzzy--it made it so much harder for him to think straight, which was why he usually tried to enter you when he was only half-soft. That was....lower down, though. Your mouth was different. Much different. He could stand completely at attention and not hurt you, not even have to worry about stretching you too much or going too deep, especially when he was tied up as he was right now.

But the problem was you. When he could see that determination in your eyes, the grin on your lips, the way you poised yourself over his legs and looked at him like he was a treat?

Oh, he was completely done for.

Your lips pressed together in a soft line, glossy and wet from your own spit and the water wetting his skin from his latest swim. You always teased that he tasted of saltwater, but it never seemed to bother you--nor did the sudden, weighty shift of his erection as it twitched, excited from the warm air you puffed against it. You laughed and your eyes sparkled, and your kiss...it soon turned into more.

Seóirse watched with wide eyes as you moved to swallow the tip, how your lips managed to stretch around the blubbery flesh without pause. You were getting good at this. Your nostrils flared with a soft inhale to prepare, and you bobbed your head down--far enough that it was only an inch or two, but enough for his arms to strain against the buckles in an instinctive desire to ensure you were okay.

"M-My love?" He tensed, fist closing and releasing suddenly at the pulse of your heart around him. You merely glanced up at him and winked with a soft stroke to his inner thigh. I'm okay. That's what your gestures told him, though could he be blamed when his own size was the reason you had to train yourself to take him? He knew he would see a bulge in your throat soon, and once you fit a little more in it appeared, and he suddenly started having a much harder time just staying still.

His left foot yanked on the leather cuff around it as he writhed, the material squeaking wretchedly against his skin as his body jerked of its own accord. Your mouth was just so warm. Your tongue slaked over each vein with loving precision, every sensitive cell in his body crying out in the face of your unwavering worship. He wished so badly to be half the size just so he could ravish you without restriction, so that these damned restraints could be thrown out and he could fuck you and ravage your body like-

Cree-aack!

Seóirse's eyes flitted from you, to his left wrist, and back to you again. The cuff, once attached by a chain and padlock to the corner of the bedframe, still hung snug and tight around his giant wrist. However, the wooden pillar of his bedframe had snapped off completely, leaving the broken piece to fall and tumble to the floor by the bed with a clatter, leaving the chain to dangle uselessly from his cuff.

What possessed him to then reach down and grab your head was pure, unadulterated selkie lust, and nothing more of his reasonable mind. Seóirse yanked your mouth up and off his cock with whatever self-control still remained, and in an insatiable heat, pulled you by the back of your head to smush those pretty lips against his shaft.

Thank god you were so understanding. You would understand his desires--hell, you had a dopey grin on your face the moment he took control, and ground his dick against your face in long, deep strokes. The spit and water and precum that dribbled and soaked him down to the balls was all that could save you from the immense friction of him thrusting that monster against your face, his attention especially focused on those lips that kissed and licked and suckled around whatever spots you could manage to latch on to. This was the only way to fuck you without injury, without permanently scarring his one true love--and with the giddiness that came over you as he climaxed faster and harder than he ever had before, and painted your face with pearls of creamy, thick seed like he'd never have the courage to do when he made love to you before...

Well, maybe he would just have to make this new way of lovemaking a guilty pleasure habit.

(cws: gn!darling [w/ one unserious mention of 'princess'], dirty talk, facefucking, rimming mention, degradation, mild humiliation)

Makoi Azumako

"We literally just fucked."

"And?"

Your head poised over his lap, your hand resting at the base of his hip. Makoi had barely caught his breath before you were shimmying down there, your body still wet with sweat and spit so your skin gave off a sheen in the dim light. He'd only lit a few lamps in the paper lanterns around the room, though the futon was soft enough not to make much noise in the night as you shuffled around. The last thing you wanted was to wake up one of his relatives in the house, especially after just getting away with being all cozy under the covers.

"You want me to suck you off, or not?"

"Well...shit, I won't say no." He sighed, and folded his arms back to rest his head against them. "You're really a fuckin' freak, though."

"I'll bite you."

"Fuckin' do it." Makoi grinned down at you. He could never let you get the drop on him--he was always so smug. "Show me those teeth, kitty. Bet the blood turns you on. Freak."

"M'not actually gonna bite you."

"Good, or I'd have to beat your ass." He narrowed his eyes and reached down. His fingers slid with confidence around his soft knob of flesh, the limp appendage stirring as his grip tightened around the base. "Now get to work. Ain't gonna lick itself."

"Asshole." You muttered with a huff, easing your tongue out to swipe a lick over the warm mound of muscle. It still tasted of you from earlier.

"Wanna lick that too? Then keep the tone, brat." Just as he spoke, a gasp that was too soft for his attitude fluttered off his lips, and he settled lower into the pillows to enjoy himself.

"...Maybe a little bit."

"Freak." He groaned with an arch of his back as your tongue met the base of his shaft, his fingers fisting into the pillows under his head. "Tell you what, you can shove your tongue up there if I get this kinda head every day. Ffffuuuuck..." His voice slurred, eyes rolling back the second your lips met his sack. "Goddamn angel mouth. Give it a kiss, princess."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, the exact one that he used to tease you more often than not. Makoi guided his cock by the base to tap the head between your eyes, and with little provocation--despite how degrading his command was--your sticky lips met his tip and you flicked out your tongue to lap up the salty, bitter taste of precum. He urged you on all the while, watching greedily as you swallowed inch by inch his thick, veiny cock, up until your nose was buried in a bush of black hairs at the base.

"Mmh." He laid back again, one hand perched behind his head while the other gripped yours through your hair, just to make sure you stayed in place. Just to tease, he tilted your head in a slow circle to watch how your throat bulged with his length, to see how your eyes watered until you beat once on his thigh and he let you pull off and sputter before you choked. Makoi laughed, and in the midst of you huffing out another insult, he gripped your hair again and shoved you down open-mouthed on his dick again, ensuring you took in every last inch again like the good cockwarmer you were.

"Just shut up for once, babe. Sound so much cuter with a mouth fulla dick." He humped his hips once just to see your reaction, and at the sight of you braced to take him without gagging he couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh. "Yeah, you like that? Bet you love suckin' on this fat fuckin' cock. E'en more than you love humpin' it, right?" He cackled wickedly as his hips slowly started to pump against your face, voice slurring at a faster pace now that he had a warm hole to plunge into. He was always like that. Cockdrunk, but it was almost always his own cock he got high off of.

Shluk, shluk, shluk, shluk--the sound vibrated in your ears with each thrust, the tip of Makoi's dick making a distinct smack each time it kissed the back of your throat. His hips forced your head to tilt back each time, like every buck was a strike to the face, and the feel of his balls smushing against your chin when he paused and slapping the skin wetly when he didn't was just plain degrading. Mako loved to embarrass you in private, but maybe you also just liked to be embarrassed, too.

"Fuckin' like that?" You could just slap that smirk right off his face, whether it got you off or not. Makoi's chest heaved over your face with long, laborious breaths; whether he liked it or not, he couldn't keep up a pace this dirty for long. Not with you. Not when you were just an absolute angel for him. "Suck dick so fffuckin' good, christ-"

A cord snapped in your boyfriend--something deep and primal, no doubt--and in a matter of seconds, his hands were gripping your shoulders and he was throwing you over on your back, his cockhead just barely smearing your own spit on your lips before he plowed his way back in; now with his knees by your head and his body hunched over you from the neck up. With one hand gripping the back of your head and the other glued to the floor by his totally sweat-soaked futon, Makoi's voice rumbled through your body with a string of vile comments one after another: "G'nna fuck you fuckin' stupid after", "Don't you dare goddamn spit", "Lessee that fuckin' gag reflex"--each word vibrated through your very bones and had you moaning around the bulge wedged deep in your throat, in exactly the spot where Makoi pounded in his last thrust before there's a groan that you're sure resonated throughout the whole house.

Glug. Glug. Glug. Glug. The noises your swallowing made were enough to plaster a dazed grin across Makoi's face, who seemed more than satisfied with feeling your throat rise and fall with his hand cupped over it. Then, and only then, would he slowly slide his way out with a final pop and a breathy sigh at the milky trail he left down your chin. Still grinning like an idiot, he brushed his thumb over the sticky skin and licked it off, before planting a kiss squarely on your swollen lips.

"Fuckin' cutie. So lucky you're mine."

(cws: gn!darling, established marriage, hatefucking, rough sex, crying, adrian's submissive & breedable for once...sorta)

Adrian Moorwell

Adrian was barely through the front door when you jumped him.

It was a surprise attack--no particular occasion, you just couldn't help but get worked up through the day. Your husband was gone too long and you'd been fighting for the whole weekend. Part of you thought he might've been happy to get away from you and your complaining, if only for a bit. But it seemed as though he was only in shock as you dropped to your knees and pawed at him, ripping open his pants so fiercely you popped both buttons off. He'd have to sew them back on later. For now, you had one thing on your mind.

"Honey--honey, wait! L-Let me get the door closed-" Adrian stumbled, his file folders hitting the floor for papers to scatter as he fumbled with the door handle behind him. Too late. You already had his pants halfway down his thighs, and though you had few neighbors to snoop on you, perhaps the birds living in the trees that lined the walkway would forever be traumatized by your face planted squarely in your husband's crotch.

You hummed almost absentmindedly as your lips sealed around the crease in his tight boxers--you thanked god he always wore the ones close to his skin, because without even an ounce of stiffness in it, you could see the imprint of his cock in them from a mile away. You wouldn't bother with pulling them down; it was more entertaining to feel him pulling lightly on your hair when you started suckling him through the wetted fabric.

"Shit!" A rare curse exploded out of his mouth as the door thudded closed, and with a thump his back fell against it and you had Adrian in the palm of your hands--or more aptly, on the flat of your tongue. Even you could hardly believe the sheer length of him bundled up in all those tight pants his students would gawk at and whisper about, and even colleagues of his would wonder between themselves if he really was packing all that people thought he was. If you ever cared to assure them, you would say that he most certainly was.

Adrian fiddled with his fingers on your scalp for a moment before shakily speaking up. "I f-ffigured you were still-"

"I'm still pissed." You cut him off, and he flinched as if you had bit him. Honestly, you were more annoyed that he forced you to pull yourself away to answer rather than what he asked in itself. "Take it out."

"Wh--Why?"

"I wanna see it."

Finally, Adrian huffed, and his attitude started to come out as he straightened himself out--though he gave in and kicked his pants completely off his legs first, leaving him only in a pair of underwear with the biggest, darkest stain on the front.

"I'm your husband, not a whore."

"Just show it to me."

He sighed, and against his better judgement, he slid his thumbs beneath the waist of his wine-coloured boxers and slowly peeled them down his hips, the fabric rolling up in waves as they came down those long, dark legs. Even still half-soft, his cock stood out impressively against the rest of his lower half, though he stood awkwardly in his front hall still wearing his turtleneck from a day of teaching classes. Next to his spouse that he'd been fighting with all weekend, suddenly on your knees for him. You moved in for the kill, but at the last second Adrian's rough palm stopped you by the forehead and gently pushed you back.

"You're not doing this in the hallway." Ignoring your huff and the pout spelled out on your lips, he stepped past you and trusted you would scramble up to follow, which you did. "Let's go to the bedroom."

"S'too far." You replied from behind, and in the instant that Adrian stepped through the doorway into the sitting room, you let slip a smirk and started pushing him back until he stumbled and fell backwards into the sofa. Not even his scowl could mask the wide-eyed stare he gave you once you stood over him and stripped off the robe you'd been wearing since your afternoon shower. Even in the heat of an argument, he couldn't deny the power your body held over him at any given time.

You threw the robe at his face and on instinct, he breathed in despite his annoyance at having his view blocked. The moment he yanked it off and tossed it aside, you'd already gotten down again and crept towards his lap like a lion stalking its prey. Over the arm of the sofa you clambered, and before he could sit up completely your five fingers met his chest and you shoved him back against the other arm, your eyes dark and misty with lust.

"Honestly, I wanna fuck you, but you pissed me off too much this week." You murmured as you pawed your way down his body to his lap, so your knees propped your ass up while your cheek came to rest on his inner thigh, inches away from your prize. "So I'm gonna suck you off, and you're gonna take it, and then I'm gonna find something to do while you sit here and mope."

"I don't mope." Adrian scowled down at you. "At least give me a kiss first."

For his demands, you leaned up and pecked him carelessly on the lips before returning to your position.

"See that? It's called a compromise." Your teasing earned you a roll of the eyes from your husband, who you could tell had had about enough of you dredging up your recent string of arguments.

"Why don't you just save your words and get to it?"

Oh, now he was getting spicy. You masked a huge grin and went to work almost immediately--the flat of your tongue met his tip and Adrian gasped, his hips could barely stay still on the couch and lifted the moment he felt you touch him skin-to-skin. His hand flew to your head but it wasn't to stop you this time, rather it was to hold himself in place like an anchor as you slobbed your soft tongue messily all over his lap. Thank god your nearest neighbors were all the way down the road, or you'd be subject to some noise complaints for sure--and maybe some 911 calls for the times your husband moaned like he was being fucking murdered.

“Jesus! Ssslow down, fuck, fuck-!” Adrian's voice cracked into a pitchy whine that pierced right through your ears, and if you could smirk with a mouthful of him, you would. His waist jerked sideways as his body inched away from the intense shocks of pleasure, nearly toppling you off the couch in the process. With a hand planted on either side of the dips where his hips and waist met, you used your leverage to pin your husband's body down to the cushions. No matter the hands that pushed on your head or his pitiful begging as you noisily sucked down his dick, he had something you wanted and nothing was gonna stop you from taking it. Rather than pull off to gloat, you let him see the bulge of his own cock nestled in your cheek, and teased him with the warmth you rubbed all over it in that little pouch of heat and spit.

This'll show my prick of a husband the meaning of spite. That was the thought that came to your mind in that moment, and understandably so. Your plan initially was to work him up, blueball him, and leave him hanging all night. That was what he deserved for being such an asshole during all those fights you had over the weekend, because Adrian wasn't usually so clingy and with such a bad attitude as he was then–nor was he usually so cold during whatever fights you had over your marriage. It actually really hurt your feelings. But you didn't want to tell him that.

But contrary to your initial frustrations, you knew your plan was abandoned when you peered up at him and saw the glisten of tears trailing down his face.

“Please,” He mumbled in a quiet, soft tone. “I love the way you make me feel.” He couldn't quite get those next two words out; “Don't stop”. So you decided to spell each letter out with your tongue, and watched as Adrian's head hit the arm of the couch while he shrieked with the pleasure wracking his oversensitive body. Maybe later you'd bother to ask what had him strung so tight that whole time, and he'd tell you about all those ugly reasons why he felt so possessive over you. How the voice at the back of his head told him he needed to own you. But whenever you reminded him of your love for him, he just melted into a puddle of worship and wonder why on earth you would ever love a messed-up old man like him.

Either way, he was an “old man” that was getting his dick sucked into the netherworld tonight. Adrian never had any idea how much his teary eyes turned you on, at least not until you kissed them off his cheeks and slid your ass up into his lap. Fuck leaving him high and dry–not even the worst frustrations in the world could keep you from watching your husband's eyes roll back in pleasure as you rode the professor brainless.

(cws: gn!darling, dubcon, noncon photography, exhibitionism, "i got sold to the azumakos" wattpad plotline, cum drinking, praise, pet names)

Shura Roanoke

"Would you look at that shit?" Shura's grin was like a panther's--unsettling and surely up to no good. Click. The flash on his camera blinded you momentarily, but the spots blotting your vision was nothing unusual by now. In fact, you were just getting used to it.

"Smile. Oh, wait--looks like you've got your mouth full." His laugh was like the windchimes you'd heard from the neighbor's porches; clear and soft, yet it pierced through the din of the dark room you were in and the red lights that accented it. As the sound of your spit shucking as it lubed up your lips, the yakuza pressed his thumb to your cheek and implored you to open them wider. Don't wanna hurt the new toy.

That was what you were here for. Your father was a yakuza head--and a bad one at that. He'd stolen money from the wrong people many times, and made enemies of those he should never have even been in the same rooms with. But when it came to gambling, he was all in all the time. And when the Azumakos came knocking to collect his enormous debt to them, he left you at their mercy and skipped town to escape what he'd wrought. "Piece of shit." That was Shura's first comment to you when he arrived at the sketchy little hovel where you'd been left, but you'd soon learn once you saw his grin and listened to his proposition that he wasn't talking about you--but that didn't matter anymore. As far as they were concerned, you were now an Azumako with all the rest of them.

"Show me those pretty eyes, pumpkin. Wanna get a good shot, yeah?" Shura aimed his phone down and brushed the hair from your face, just in time for another click and to see his expression light up at the newest photo on his screen. "Oh-ho, Mako is gonna love you. Suck it more-" His shoulders shook when you obeyed, and his eyes rolled back in the moment at the tight squeeze around his dick, which he'd buried right to the hilt in your soft, warm mouth. "-Shiiiiit, that's good. Don't even need another hole, yeah? Think I'm fine with just this one."

Apparently growing satisfied with the album's worth of photos he'd taken of you choking down his cock, Shura set his phone aside and leaned into the kiss of his tip against the back of your throat, head tilted back in pleasure as he gripped the seat beneath him. The other yakuza that were with him had dispersed somewhat to look around for members of your father's gang, but a few hung around in casual conversation nearby as if Shura getting blown two feet from them was totally normal. You'd learn later that they weren't part of the core "family", just some low-level thugs and gangsters who needed cash and a bodyguard job. But the few pairs of eyes burning holes into you weren't unnoticed, and Shura gingerly stroked your hair as if he was trying to comfort you.

"Ignore them, sweetness. Just wanna watch the show is all--you're all mine." He dipped down to whisper that last part, before leaning back with a deep sigh as he eased your head down to bob it on his lap again. One of his bodyguards came up within a few inches of you and muttered something in his ear, which Shura didn't seem to care one way or another if you heard or not.

"...Mhm. Well, take care of him, then. Make him pay, yeah?" The other man in the suit vanished from the room, and Shura looked down on you with a peaceful smile.

"That's it. Just keep stroking me with that soft tongue. Y'know, Makoi can find whoever he wants to get him off--I kinda like the idea of making you mine." He tilted his head at you, peering into your very soul as his hand guided your head up and down, up and down his thick cock. "Yeah? You like that? Wanna be my little arm candy? I bet you'll like gettin' licked out every night. I'm a fair guy--scratch my back, I scratch yours. You can't imagine what my tongue can do."

He winked down at you, and the laugh that escaped him melted into a fuzzy, open-mouthed moan that he couldn't even try to hold in.

"That's it, that's it, that's it--more, lil' more, just--fuck--u-use your tongue on the--fffuck, there!"

The sweet spot he was guiding you to, wherever it really was, seemed to work more than wonders as Shura's voice cracked and he threw his head back against the chair. You watched with awe as his adam's apple bobbed in time with his gasps of your name, and your mouth flooded suddenly with an immense heat--one that you couldn't hope to combat, only to bear as ropes of sticky seed shot down your tongue and into the depths of your throat. Shura held you there firmly to take in every sloshing ounce of cum that spilled on to the bed of your swollen tongue, every bitter swallow until his thumb ran across your lower lip and you opened up to show him a clean mouth.

"Ohhh! Impressive!" He laughed jubilantly while tucking himself back into his pants like nothing happened. While the future ahead was still hazy and scary, at least Shura's optimism was comforting. But his smirk as he picked his phone back up, and the possessive touch of his hand as he pulled you up on his lap was...less so.

"Now, let's pick out the best pictures to send to the guys. They're nice, I promise--you're gonna love your new big brothers, pumpkin."

[pennyserenade]

snapshot

pairing: sejanus plinth x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of death, depression, angst. hurt/comfort

a/n: this was a very spontaneous drabble and i don’t have much to say about it. it’s a short little thing and i hope you enjoy it <3

sejanus plinth. you’ve never met a lamb so hellbent on the sacrificing of itself. some days you want to ask him why? he makes you a disquieted mess, full of worry, consumed by love. he is audacious, brave, foolishly stubborn. religion is a thing of the past, a concept learned more than a practice, but you understand enough of it to know it when you see it. his bread crumbs and the burning embers of his rage. his myopic beliefs. his warm hands and delicate whispering. he kneels at the alter of people he’d scarcely be able to recognize passing on the street and he says he would die for them. this is a sentence he’s uttered to you. it was a self evident truth.

you don’t ask why. it’d be a fruitless endeavor, a circular fight that would only break your heart. with sejanus its best not to consider all the ways in which he is a ticking time bomb. he is a snapshot and you hold the camera. witty and brilliant. kind. curly hair, doe brown eyes, a mole on his cheek. full lips. best not to remember the way rage fills him. best not to remember the thrown desk, or the tribute named marcus, or the weeks he wasted away from grief and a defeat that reeked of finality. worst of all would to be remember the arena because then you remember: i would die for them. the self evident truth of your self sacrificing lamb.

your camera lens mind focuses, shutters down on this: he is beneath you, bare, full of devotion. you rock into him, draw out a sharp gutural moan that vibrates into your soul. the afterschool special, he jokingly called this. your red school uniform abandoned at the foot of his gaudy bed. his hands on your breasts. his mouth. oh, his mouth. warm and wet and loving. it is hard to imagine in moments like this how angry he can get. hard to imagine that half the time he is a fire pit of sorrow and steely determination and bitter anger. you are full of him, above him, and all he appears to be is wanting, pleased, loving. you pin his curls back from his forehead and grind into him. he can get no deeper and yet you try anyway, because he is sejanus plinth and there are a million ways this can end and only a few are ones you can stand. maybe, you hope against hope, if you fuck him good enough then he will be sated. maybe love will be enough. it’s something he’d like to think. you crush your lips against his and he digs his fingers into your hips.

tomorrow you lose this man to district 12. they will shave his hair and feed off his fury. you know he hasn’t thought about it, not the way he should, but there is coriolanus, all alone, shipped off, and sejanus plinth’s love knows no bounds. he’s so excited about the surprise. he’s going to take him his mother’s cookies. you don’t ask why. you ought to be brilliantly angry with him. you should. explode, your mind pleads, but you rock your hips into his again and your heart soars. you don’t ask because you know why. you know why: because coriolanus snow. because he would die for them. because he is sejanus plinth.

you will remember this boy. your snapshot lover.

[barbieaiden]

1. [A month ago]

2. Jordan: Hey, Sam. How are you holding up?

3. Jordan: ...I brought you coffee.

Sam: Thank you.

4. Jordan: Do you want to go home for the night? Sleep in your own bed? I could drive you home, pick you up on my way to work tomorrow.

Sam: I think I'll stay here.

Jordan: Alright.

5. Sam: I keep thinking... [Sigh] It's so stupid.

Jordan: Go on.

Sam: I keep thinking I should call Aiden. So he can help. But obviously I can't, because... I just... I don't know what to do. Nothing feels real. It's been two days and it feels like ten years.

6. Jordan: The waiting is the worst part. I waited for my mom's death for months. You can't cope when you don't know what you're coping with.

Sam: Months?

Jordan: She wasn't in a coma, just terminally ill. For all we know Aiden might wake up tomorrow.

Sam: Or die.

7. Jordan: As much as I wish I could I can't tell you that he's going to be fine. And I can't replace him, obviously, but I am here if you need anything.

8. Sam: Thank you.

10. Aiden: Jordan, you can't tell me you spent a whole day with a man you're not interested in. That is not friends with benefits, that's practically married.

11. Kell: I'd tell you and Zach to get a room but you already have, like, a million fucking times.

Jordan: What I'm getting from this conversation is that neither of you have ever had any friends.

Aiden: It's true. The only man I've ever spent time with is Sam.

12. Jordan: Even if I wanted to I don't have time for a relationship.

Kell: Dude, you are literally already spending, like, all your free time with him.

Aiden: If you and Zach get engaged we can have a double wedding!

Lucas: You should become a tattoo artist instead, Jordan. No 55 hour shifts and you still get to stab people with needles.

Jordan: I happen to like my job.

Lucas: You complain about it every single time I see you.

Jordan: I find your obsession with needles slightly disturbing.

Lucas: I guess I like the artistic part too.

Aiden: That's why I let Michael do all my piercings.

Lucas: I'm such...

15. Aiden: Sam?

16. Aiden: Are you okay?

Sam: Mhm.

Aiden: Are you sure?

Sam: Just... tired.

Aiden: We can go home if you want to.

Sam: It's fine.

Aiden: I wouldn't mind.

Sam: Really, Aiden, it's fine.

18. Kell: You two are literally worse than that one high school couple making out in the corridors.

19. Aiden: You can't say that, that's so homophobic.

Kell: Your dad didn't think I was very homophobic.

Aiden: [Exaggerated gasp] Kell!

Kell: Too far?

Aiden: No, Kell, by all means, if you want to go over to Nettlefield right now and have sex with my actually homophobic father, go right ahead.

Kell: Dude. I'm sorry, okay?

20. Kell: Find something to eat with me? Please?

Aiden: Sure.

Kell: Sam, don't look at me like that, we're not going to smoke weed.

Sam: That was not my issue with this conversation and you saying that unprompted makes me think you are going to smoke weed.

Aiden: I've never even seen weed. Drugs are bad, or whatever. And so illegal.

Kell: Exactly. We're law-abiding citizens.

21. Aiden: Seriously. No weed. Promise.

Sam: Okay.

22. Aiden: Are you sure you're okay?

Sam: Yes, Aiden.

Aiden: Just... tell me if you want to go home. Okay?

Sam: I will.