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rainrot4me · 4 months ago

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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 12

Jeff the Killer x TransMasc (FtM) Reader - Hair Pulling/Pegging

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Pegging, forced submission, hair pulling, mentions of injury, bottom Jeff, domination, cunnilingus, anal, rimming

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 3.8k

A/N: I didn't get to flourish out the reader being trans as much as I would have liked to, but I also felt like it not being an incredibly big writing point makes it more natural? IDK give me your thoughts and ways I can improve it please! I've never written a trans reader, but I wanted to try my hand at it!

Was it smart to get into a relationship where the two of you had insanely gigantic egos? No.

Did it make it much more satisfying to come out on top every time? Hell yeah.

“One more word, I dare you.” You spat.

From anyone else’s perspective, your relationship with Jeff would seem toxic and demeaning, constantly bickering or knocking each other around to prove a point. Sure, it was far from healthy, but you could expect only so much from a certified lunatic.

“Or what? I’ll get time out?” The killer snickered, leaning back on your bed as he spread his legs wide, a disgusting grin on his face.

“You’d get off to that, wouldn’t you? Bust a nut just from getting told to sit in the corner.” You scoffed, hauling your hoodie over your head and throwing the nasty fabric to the side, turning towards your bathroom to get a good look at yourself. Jeff was still smiling, chuckling to himself as he stood to follow you in.

You both had just returned from a long night, bodies sore and heads pounding from overexertion, but that didn’t stop either one from throwing snotty remarks.

Flipping the bright bathroom lights on, you glared at your reflection, gnarly bruises and scratches running up your chest and shoulders, the wounds still bright with irritation. Jeff sauntered in behind you, bright eyes roaming your bare back that you were sure looked much worse than your front. “Jesus, [Y/N], how did she even do all that?” He cringed, settling his rough hand on your shoulder to examine the litter of scratches all down your spine. You huffed, shoving his hand off and reaching for the faucet, running warm water as you grabbed a rag.

It was embarrassing to admit that some lady, a younger police officer who tried to intervene in your mission, had banged you up bad enough while you tried to take her out. Maybe you would’ve let Jeff try to be sweet and clean you off, but the killer was the one who alerted the damn woman with his “go to sleep” bullshit. You got her off of you and delivered some nasty blows, but she got some good hits too, cutting up your skin with her nails. Jeff laughed the whole way home, throwing a shit-eating grin every time you glared at him.

Running the rag across your bare shoulders, you groaned, the small sting tolerable but definitely uncomfortable as you cleaned yourself up. Jack was out hunting, so you couldn’t get his professional opinion, but you deemed them not bad enough to get all the sterile stuff out. Rummaging the cupboard behind the mirror, you shook a few ibuprofen into your hand and called it a night.

“Aw, won’t even let me bandage you up? C’mon now, baby…” Jeff sneered, trying his best to put on a sweet face as he ran his fingers down your back, tracing the skin right above the waistline of your jeans. You huffed, anger still boiling in the back of your mind despite the chills that littered your skin, your eyes trained on him in the mirror behind you. “Lay off, Jeffrey.” You tried to nudge back to your bedroom, your messy sheets and pillows practically calling your name, but Jeff wrapped his hands around your waist, tugging your back against him.

If there was one thing about the killer you could always count on, it was his unwavering ability to become insufferably horny after any mission. You chalked it up to the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but he never failed to get all touchy whenever you both finally made it back to the mansion.

“Why so angry, babe? How ‘bout you put all that energy to good use, huh?” He smiled, pressing his nose behind your ear and kissing lightly, trying to switch up his annoying demeanor to coax you. He was always good at that, playing the nasty one until he decided he wanted to be sweet, using all the right moves and words to melt you down. Tonight, however, you felt just a little more ill than usual, body still wired with adrenaline and anger- it would take more than kisses up your neck to get you now.

Shifting your shoulder, you nudged him off, the gruff sigh from the killer annoyed that you didn’t immediately give in. How could you not? He was irresistible?! He followed you into the bedroom, tugging at the belt loop of your jeans and pouting when you refused to show him attention, or groaning when you ignored his hands pawing at your waist. All the usual hints that he wanted you weren’t working, and Jeff was becoming more frustrated by the second. “[Y/N]... C’mon…”

You secretly smirked to yourself when he sat at the edge of your bed, rummaging through your dresser for clean clothes that weren’t matted with speckles of blood and dirt. He leaned back on his elbows, groaning about how stubborn you were being while you unbuttoned your jeans, shoving them past your hips. His grumbles quickly faltered, the only noise the shifting and settling of the mansion as he watched you kick your jeans off, snagging your fingers into the waistline of your boxers next.

You heard Jeff sit up, your bed creaking under the weight when you pushed the fabric over your ass, bending just a little to tease and send a staggered breath from the killer. You smiled to yourself when you kicked your boxers off, bare back on display to him as you reached for your clean clothes, refusing to turn and even let Jeff think you were giving him what he wanted. He pushed off the mattress, feet creaking on the floorboards when you felt cold hands run across your waist again, his hips pressing against your ass.

“Baby…”

“Jeff, no.” It sounded a little cold, but you didn’t intend to let him think just because he wanted you, he was going to get you- he had to work for it.

He whines, a pout forming on his lips when he presses kisses against that same spot behind your ear. “C’monnn, you’re not gonna stay mad all night. Lemme make it up to you.” You raise a brow, refusing to show any interest as Jeff ruts his clothed bulge against your ass, mouthing kisses onto your shoulder.

Trying to pull your shirt over your head, the killer grumbles at your disinterest, trying to push his hands down to your sweet center and maybe coax you along, but being left unsatisfied when you elbow him off and step away. “Go jerk off in your own room, man. You’re not getting it for that fuckjob of a mission you pulled.”

Even if he did decide to leave, you would’ve rubbed one out yourself. You couldn’t deny how excited you got from seeing the oh-so-big-and-bad-killer start to whine and paw at you, desperation creeping in when his cock twitched uncomfortably in his jeans. He ground his teeth, stepping after you when you tried to climb into the bed, wearing nothing but a clean shirt as your ass swayed vulgarly.

“Babe- c’mon… Sorry? Alright? I’m sorry for bein’ an ass- Just… please?” It was so satisfying to see him cling onto your hips, tugging you up off the bed and holding you close to his chest, his obvious boner pressing against the side of your thigh. You huffed, secretly smiling to yourself.

You would let him have it, but he wasn’t going to like it.

“Alright…” He perked up, kissing you across your shoulders again, before- “Grab the strap, then.”

His kisses faltered, letting off your skin to look you in the eyes, trying to gauge if you were being serious. You didn’t use it often, only daring one time to experiment, but ultimately deciding you both didn’t prefer it. It seemed appropriate now, your body flipping that anger into excitement when Jeff began to shake his head.

“Baby… You can’t be serious-”

“Go on, Jeff. You don’t get to choose right now.” You dropped your voice, a stern tone that made the killer stiffen up, shifting his weight back. He didn’t try to beckon, just let go of your hips and sheepishly knelt down, reaching under your bed. With heavy eyes, he grabbed the small tote you hid, popping the lid open to reveal the gaggle of toys you both had used on one another, the killer’s hands fishing for the dull pink strapon at the bottom. You leaned back on the bed when he held it out, shoving the box back under your bed and groaning when you took it from him.

You drug it out, slow and methodical movements when you dipped each leg into the holster, snugging the straps around your hips and tightening the clips. Jeff watched anxiously, sitting back on his haunches while his fingers gripped into his jeans, staring at the dildo you were adjusting at your crotch. The smooth base of the toy pressed against your cunt, settling against your clit in a way that made you huff a groan.

Tugging your shirt off, Jeff eyed your body, eyes roaming your chest and arms as you towered over him. You smiled down, sitting back against your bed and spreading your legs, the killer’s face a little more pale than before as you beckoned him closer. He hesitated at first, testing if you were really serious, but eventually shuffled forward onto his knees when you glared at him.

The toy wasn’t incredibly big, just a little smaller than Jeff’s cock, but it was definitely more than he was used to taking. Jeff had no remorse in forcing himself into you inch by terrible inch, stuffing you to his heart’s content despite your raspy pleas to go slow. It felt appropriate to not give him the same luxury of being gentle.

“Hurry up. You wanna cum or not?” Jeff furrowed his brows, shifting his weight up to press his head just above the tip, eyeing you just once more as you smiled sickly. Soft groans leave your mouth as he flattens his tongue and licks at the head, saliva glistening across the silicone when he tries to wrap his lips around the tip. “Watch your teeth, yeah?”

Maybe he would’ve made some sly remark about how it was just a toy and made fun of you, but you wrapped your hands into his hair, gripping the messy strands tight as you began to shove his head down. His neck was tense, mouth trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion as he gagged and choked around the length, trying to press back up. You held him, continuing to force him down until you felt his nose press against your hip, muffled coughing as his fingers dug into your thighs. Through the scars on his cheeks, you could see the toy going deeper, nestling itself into his throat as Jeff unhinged his jaw to accommodate.

“Don’t fight me, Jeffrey.” You grovel, Jeff sitting up a little more as the toy presses hard against his tongue, you forcing the length to brush against the back of his throat. Tears well in his eyes, unable to breathe properly as his skin heats, flushed from the sudden overwhelm. He could try to resist, but you demanded his compliance, and honestly, that turned him on something terrible. “Always runnin’ your mouth, messing things up- this is what you get.”

A stark tug on his hair and he’s whining, bobbing up and down the length with heavy eyes, the lack of oxygen bringing him down from his domination a lot quicker than you expected. The sounds are so messy, spit building on his lips and glistening across the silicone every time his lips meet the head, tongue flattening across the divot in the tip and taking it like it was real. You moan at the sight, clit jerking every time the strap shifts and rubs just right.

Jeff’s head feels light, letting his jaw hang loose despite the war in his head telling him to get up and shove you off. He knows he could easily stop this, fight you off, and take what he wanted, but something in his likes how your eyes bore down at him as you own him, a claim being staked. He could fight, could deny ever enjoying it, but he couldn’t lie when your hips pressed off the mattress and began to snap into his throat, fucking the toy in haphazardly.

You enjoyed this a little too much too- the way your idiotically loud, egotistical, manic boyfriend loved to act like he was big and bad, but found himself falling apart, jaw slack, eyes rolling back while you used his throat. You fisted his hair hard, whining and gasping through slobbered gags every time you tugged the strands, forcing him to comply. Tears fall down his pale cheeks, sweat dripping down his forehead as you finally pop his head off, eyes hazy and heart thumping in his chest while you look down at him, satisfied with the state he’s found himself in.

“Hah- Hnn- Baby…” He pants, trying to catch his breath while you run your fist up and down the length, coating his saliva across the silicone and admiring the way it shines. You glance at him, face flushed and eyes heavy, hair still pulled back into your grip as his jaw hangs slack. “You… Wanna feel- hah- you…”

“You’re so fucking noisy. Babbling already and we’ve barely started.” That shuts him up, embarrassment heavy as he pants, trying to catch his breath. You tug him forward, holding his face close as you slap the toy across his cheeks, his spit smacking his skin lewdly, the killer tightening his face with the impact.

“Up on the bed.” You stood, nudging him to climb up onto the mattress, but finding the killer reluctant. You eyed him, reaching for his jeans and slowly unbuttoning them, watching as his eyes lazily followed your movements. He reached for his shirt, hauling the fabric over his head when you helped him shove his pants off, kicking them to the side. His cock was heavy in his boxers, a wet stain where his tip twitched, huffing a low groan when you palmed at the length. “Up on the bed, now, m’kay?”

It took a moment, but reluctantly Jeff climbed up, shoveling his boxers off and groaning at his wilted cock, the tip a deep red. You pressed onto the bed, Jeff flipping over and whining into the sheets with embarrassment. He couldn’t stand how turned on he was, overwhelmed with the fact that he might’ve been enjoying this. “Quit bein’ a baby and acting like you aren’t enjoying this. I mean, look how hard you are.” It was like a stab in the gut, but Jeff couldn’t stop his cock from twitching at your tone.

He pressed his knees up, palms digging into the sheets as he climbed onto all fours, letting his spine drop the best he could and arching uncomfortably. You admired his effort, shifting behind him as you palmed at his skin, delivering hard grips to his ass. Jeff shuddered, body shaking slightly when he felt you lean down, breath tingling his skin as his cock hung between his legs.

“Get over yourself and just enjoy it, alright?” You huffed, pulling the plush off his ass apart and pressing in slow, a long stripe of your warm tongue across his hole. The killer choked, a gruff moan when you slowly lapped at him, trying your best to break that tension he held. Jeff tried not to fight, tried to listen to you and enjoy it, but found himself stiffer than ever, fingers digging into the sheets. You could feel it, his body so rigid as you kneaded his ass, moaning into the sweet taste.

You reached between his legs, wrapping your fist around his swelled cock and slowly stroking, his hips jutting with the stimulation. Jeff moaned, jaw hanging loose when you felt his hips jerk with every stroke, your grasp tight around his length while your tongue dipped shallowly into his fluttering hole. Your warm saliva coats him, opening up slowly for each tug you give his cock, the duality easing his body, arms shaky and weak as the killer tries to keep himself up.

Your tongue dips fully into the tight ring of muscle, lulling with a groan as how he eases up, pushing his ass back against you as precum dribbles onto your bedsheets, his loud gasps and groans teetering on the edge. “Baby… Yeah- Mhnn- Yeah-” Your own arousal throbs in your gut at his willingness, riding back across your tongue as he bites his lower lip, eyes closed in hard concentration.

“My tongue too much, hm? Can’t hold on much longer?” You kiss along his ass, hand still slowly stroking his cock just enough to have his hips stutter for more. The killer nods, quiet moans as his thighs tremble and clench, arms daring to give out. “Then maybe you need something bigger? Isn’t that right?” Jeff tries to retort, pushing up a little, but you’re already sitting up behind him, grasping his hips hard enough to bruise.

You teasingly draw circles around the rim, Jeff shivering, hole quivering at the cold feeling of mixed saliva slipping between his ass. He moans out, arms finally giving as his chest hits the mattress, face smashed into the sheets.

Arching his back stiffly, he grinds his ass back against the toy prodding at his asshole, muffled gasps when he feels you begin to press in, the head slowly disappearing into his tight hole. Jeff tries to keep his flushed face hidden in the sheets, biting into the fabric to sheath any terrible noises that erupt, but finds himself needing to look back at you.

He shifts, lying the side of his head out as he looks back over his shoulder, your face hard in concentration while you slowly bob your hips back and forth. The stretch is nauseating, shocks of pain and glorious pleasure running up his body every inch you try to sink in deeper, bully past that pesky resistance he’s still holding onto. “Open up f’me, Jeff. You said you wanted to feel me, didn’t you?” You teased, glancing up at him with a slurred smile.

“Ah! Please, baby.”

“Please what? Use your words, Jeff.”

“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”

Sweat dribbled down your brow, fingers grasping his hips with a bruising intensity that had his skin red with irritation. His walls flutter, hole clenching painfully on the toy that is only mere inches from the hilt. Jeff feels so full, so painfully full he thinks he’s going to snap. You take the opportunity, pulling your hips back before pushing back forward, watching as his hole stretches to accommodate, just to suck you all back in again. It’s a mouthwatering sight.

“Fuck! Baby, yeah-” Jeff curses the puny tone to his voice, desperation guiding his hips to fuck back onto the toy, the length brushing that sweet spot nestled deep inside. His cock is leaking something terrible, you barely thrusting but it feels like you're slamming into him, bullying your anger into his submission. You know all the ways to make him tick, all the ways to brush your hands up his back and make chills graze his skin, his gut heavy with arousal.

You don’t have to move anymore, Jeff is practically doing all the work for you. He can complain in his head all he wants, but it’s his ass that’s bouncing back onto your hips with loud, syrupy whines. His cock slabs against his abdomen, the squelch and smacking as he fucks himself raw, his head nearly spinning with haziness. “I wan- I wanna cum, please, babe.” He gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so desperately, face so messy.

You leaned in, pushing his hips down and resting your weight on top of him, bringing your hips up just to slam right back down into him with a choked moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging his head up and back as you forced him to look at you. “Do you think you deserve to? After how you treated me today?”

Jeff hesitated, breathy moans as you rutted your hips down, grinding the toy into him and bumping against his prostate. He finally shook his head, gritting his teeth when you leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. You were just surprised he gave you the answer you wanted, finally breaking past his egotistical cumdrunk self and letting you diminish him. It was satisfying, it was arousing.

You sat back, hauling his hips with you and reaching around his waist, snagging his cock into your fist and jerking as rhythmically with the thrust of your hips as you could. Jeff moaned loud, grappling at the sheets as you bounced his ass back, finally loosening up enough to take the toy to the hilt.

“You wanna cum, Jeff?” You huffed, knocking the head of the toy against his prostate, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Was he drooling or were those tears? He didn’t know, but he could barely choke out his answer.

“Yes.”

“Then cum.”

Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, or the pierce of your fingernails digging into his hips, but Jeff is immediately snapping back onto your hips, reaching his climax. Poor, exhausted cock throbbing and cumming dry, stripes of hot white onto your bedsheets below. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”

Head still reeling, the killer can do nothing else but lay there limply, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself from his clenching hole. He’s never felt so vulnerable, so ruined.

As you tenderly roll him over, he’s still panting, heart thudding so hard in his chest that you swear you can hear it. You let the strap fall from your hips, shimmying the toy off and slowly climbing up onto his thighs, straddling his limp hips.

Jeff was never a one-and-done kind of lover, rallying for two or three rounds every chance he got, so why wouldn’t you give him the same luxury? A taste of his own medicine should keep him pliable for weeks, you think.

Settling your hips out, Jeff jerks when you grab his cock, the length still flinching with postorgasmic swells as you slowly press down onto the head, Jeff hauling up. He watches through tear-soaked eyes, that later he will swear never happened, as your bulbous clit throbs with arousal, shifting your weight down to feel him sink inside of your warmth.

“[Y/N]- Wait, wait, woah-” He cries out, gripping his hands onto your hips as you begin to slowly rut yourself down. “Did I say we were done? You wanted to feel me,” He gasps, throwing his head back with a strangled moan. “So lay back and take it, Jeffrey.”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

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lxvvie · 9 months ago

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What do you think the "weird" things are the 141 guys do when they are comfortable in their relationship? Like who walks into the bathroom when the readers in the shower and then asks where the biscuits are?

That would be Simon. Simon's the one who has no issue with taking a piss or shaving or what have you when you're taking a shower. Hell, it goes both ways. One of y'all can be in the shower or in the bath and the other will be at the sink or just sitting on the toilet seat and having a whole ass conversation with each other.

Johnny's not a nudist per se. He just doesn't like wearing much around the house so he'll be close to if not completely naked around you. You enjoy the view so it's a win-win situation for you both. You two could be chilling on the couch and he's butt-ass naked. You're also the one playing with his leg hair, too, just because lmao.

Believe it or not, Gaz can get some pretty gnarly ingrown hairs (thanks, beard) and you two are the ones simply shooting the shit while he lets you bust the bump and pull the hair out.

You and Price have this weird tendency to either complete each other's sentences or purposely explain things out of context for the explicit purpose of seeing each other's confused or WTF expression. Price tends to make this face where he looks like he's smiling but it's really his chony cheeks giving off that impression.

#2queued4u.#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x black reader #x plus size reader #x poc reader #task force 141

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bambiesfics · 1 year ago

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⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

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watcherwiki · 3 months ago

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video for the Busted Little F*****s Collection posted on the Watcher Stuff website, November 27, 2024

[script text under cut]

Hello everybody. I'm Shane Madej, the Estranged Producer of the educational program Puppet History.

Recently we released an adorable plushie version of our beloved Professor. But we didn't release them all. Why? Well, because it turns out creating plushies is not an exact science. Mistakes can very much be made. And they were.

Like the reprehensible Doctor Victor Frankenstein we sought to make a plush in the Professor's image, and we can only assume that God Almighty was none too pleased, as he in his vengeful wisdom cursed us with some truly Cronenbergian monstrosities. Turn away if you're of weak constitution. That's right. Look upon these busted little f*ckers! Look upon them and weep. Awful. Who is this? A history point from him? Welcome one and who? What on earth? I'm gonna vomit.

(purging himself of the horrors)

As it happens, even these gnarly little freaks need a home. So today, we're releasing them into the wild. Yes, you can adopt one of these janked up doofuses for your very own, because the Busted Little F*ckers collection is now live. Now, wherever you go, you'll have a deranged little friend. Take him to the quarry. Do crimes with him. Leave them at the mall. Tie a rock to him and throw him in a lake. You can do all these things and more.

These freaky babies are deeply discounted and supplies are limited. So act fast! You don't have to buy one, but you can. Thank you for your time and may God have mercy on our souls.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #puppet history #the professor #shane madej #watcher merch #tw vomit mention #video posts

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yuff7e · 7 months ago

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Hi! Is there any chance you’d do a jealous!muzan x female!reader.. Maybe he sent her on a mission to get information and she ends up sleeping with a hashira (male please but you pick). They get called upper moon meeting and domua is making fun of her for sleeping with the hashira and she bites back going something along the lines of “well at least he was good in. Ed unlike you” anyway Muzan is PISSED because not only did she sleep with a hashira but domua as well (she didn’t she was just being a bitch). So he’s super mad the while meeting and at the end she gets taken with him to his private room and they have a full on argument, but he ends up confessing.

Go for gold on it, make it your own! I’m also sorry I suck at explaining things so I hope you understand!

Thank you so much

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

— hii anon !! i fricken love muzan. i fricken love this man so much. i love writing for him. i’m gonna bust. anyway—let’s begin this one-shot shall we ?! (please please please muzan one chance one chance muzan plea—*he crushes my head w his big gnarly red baby goo arm* *me: blushing*)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 -> muzan kibutsuji

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

the night was eerily quiet as you returned from your mission, slipping through the shadows like a wraith. your task had been simple enough: gather intelligence on a particularly troublesome hashira. what muzan hadn’t anticipated—or what he had, in his cold and calculating way—was the lengths to which you would go to complete your mission. you’d ended up in the arms of the wind hashira, sanemi shinazugawa, using his guard being down to extract the information muzan needed.

as you approached the hidden lair of the upper moons, you steeled yourself for the upcoming meeting. the other demons were already gathered, their eyes flicking towards you as you entered. douma, ever the jester, smirked at you from his place.

“well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” douma drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “how was your little rendezvous with the wind hashira? did you enjoy yourself?”

you clenched your jaw, refusing to rise to his bait. you took your place among the upper moons, ignoring douma’s taunts. muzan’s presence was palpable as he observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“enough, douma,” muzan’s voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the room. “report, [name].” you straightened up, meeting muzan’s piercing gaze. “the wind hashira has been thoroughly investigated. i obtained the information you requested. the mission was a success.”

before muzan could respond, douma’s laughter echoed through the chamber. “success, she says! by sleeping with the enemy, no less. tell us, [name], how did he compare to your usual standards?”

your eyes flashed with anger. “at least he was good in bed, unlike you.” you snapped back, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

a tense silence fell over the room. muzan’s eyes blazed with fury, his demonic aura intensifying. you could feel his rage radiating off him in waves.

“douma, leave,” muzan commanded, his voice a low growl. douma, for once, didn’t argue, his smirk fading as he slunk out of the room.

once the door closed behind douma, muzan’s gaze locked onto you. “you will come with me.” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

you followed muzan to his private quarters, your heart pounding in your chest. the door slammed shut behind you, and you barely had time to react before muzan whirled on you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

“do you have any idea what you’ve done?” muzan hissed, his voice dangerously quiet.

“i completed the mission,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady. “by sleeping with a hashira, and then boasting about it in front of douma?” muzan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white with tension.

“he was the only way to get the information,” you argued. “i did what i had to do, my lord.”

“and douma?” muzan spat, his eyes narrowing. “did you enjoy yourself with him too?” your eyes widened in shock, “i never touched douma.. he was mocking me, and i snapped. that’s all it was.”

muzan’s expression shifted, a storm of emotions playing across his face. “why does it matter?” you ask quietly, taking a step closer to him. “why does it matter who i sleep with in order to obtain information?”

muzan’s eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. then, with a sudden movement, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your arms tightly.

“because you belong to me,” he growled, his voice low and possessive. “i won’t tolerate anyone else touching you.”

your breath caught in your throat, a mix of shock and something else—something almost like relief—flooding through you. “m-my lord…” you stammer out, muzan quickly cutting you off.

“i can’t stand the thought of you with someone else,” he continued, his grip on you tightening. “it drives me mad. i’ve been trying to deny it, but i can’t anymore. i need you, [name]. only you.”

the intensity of his words, his confession, left you reeling. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart racing. then, slowly, you reached up, placing a hand on his cheek.

“i’m yours, my lord,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i always have been.”

muzan’s eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw vulnerability in his gaze. he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“then stay with me,” he murmured. “always.” you nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “always.” you promised.

muzan’s lips met yours in a fierce, desperate kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face. you melted into him, all the tension and fear of the past few days dissolving in the heat of his embrace. in that moment, nothing else mattered. not the mission, not the other demons, not even the hashira. it was just the two of you, bound together by something far stronger than mere words.

as the night wore on, you found solace in your lords arms, the weight of his confession settling in your heart. you knew there would be challenges ahead, but for now, you were content. you had found your place, and it was right here, by muzan’s side.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer x you #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x female reader #muzan kibutsuji x you #yuff7e #requests open

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pfhwrittes · 8 months ago

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one of my favourite headcanons for soap is that he's clumsy in a way that most ADHD people are. like yes, he's got some gnarly scars from the job and his back and knees are never going to be the same again (rip to his stomach lining for the quantity of painkillers that man downs on a daily basis just to get to "functional").

but he's also just clumsy.

he's got a faded white scar on his inner wrist where he burned it on the oven shelf helping his maw take the cake tins out for his sister's birthday cake.

several of his toes are crooked from breaking them by jumping off a low wall as a teenager on a dare.

gaz saw soap ricochet off an open doorway on base and has called him pinball ever since.

there's a scar turned callus on his right index finger where he tried catching a lit cigarette in the back of his mate's car to save burning a hole in the seat.

he's been told he has a scar on the back of his head from where he overbalanced as a child and tumbled off a slide at the local play park.

a couple of his knuckles are permanently busted from trying to pull his jeans up after a hasty one night stand and accidentally punching the wall when he tried to make a silent get away the following morning.

(during that same one night stand he somehow managed to knee himself in the face. his partner for the evening decided it would probably be safer if they topped him rather than the other way around.)

ghost once watched soap punch himself in the mouth by accident and just stared at him in utter bewilderment because how the hell does this man work?!

#pfh headcannons #are all of these injuries also my injuries? whose to say #jm #sr #kg

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thedawner · 2 years ago

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Grandeur

This was part of a trade with Corrin on Toyhouse!

#finished #portrait #creature #digital #procreate #digital art #illustration #artists on tumblr #gnarly portrait #bust #monster #teeth #digital artwork #digital painting #fantasy #creature artist

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ki-kink · 3 months ago

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Yo, ever heard of wereteenagers, bro? Like, every dang Friday night, they morph into some gnarly, funky-ass mofos, straight up hunting for a way to bust a nut with their cheesy sausage. Sheesh, talk about wild!

#ai generated #male tf #muscle tf #jock tf #smart to dumb #age reduction

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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year ago

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Lambert and the Tribute

Ok. Hear me out. You know how there is the porny/smutty trope of the witcher who saves a family/town from a dangerous beast? And the towns folk are like, well, we don't have (or want to spend) money, so, here is our young sexy innocent but eager son/daughter as a tribute? *cue porn music*

So as usual last night, I was thinking about blorbos and shit instead of sleeping, and was like...how about we turn that trope around a bit? (not that there is anything wrong with it, I just like fiddling with tropes)

I present to you my concept, and I'm using Lambert for this because as I thought of it, I could hear his voice in my head.

...

So, Lambert comes back from the hunt, exhausted, out of breath, bruised, cut up, but triumphant.

He stands in front of the penniless farmer with the gnarly severed head of a beast. He has saved all of their lives. Because of him, life continues.

But the poor farmer is clearly distraught. He is a young man, early twenties, and is like...thank you so much Mr Witcher sir, we are mighty obliged. But sadly, tragically, we have no money. The harvest was lost, and we are hungry as it is.

The poor farmer tries to explain. Sir, I would gladly offer you my sexy and eager but wide eyed and innocent daughter as tribute, but tragically, my kids are too young to be sexy tributes. Mr. Witcher, they simply aren't reproductive age yet.

And the farmer is standing there, just anxious as hell about what the witcher will demand instead, like, will it be his young bride? His beautiful raven haired wife? They're basically newlyweds still and so very much in love. He can't abide the thought! He's racking his brain, is there anyone young and nubile and teen of aged in the next town???

And then he realizes fuck, WORST OF ALL, I hope this fucker doesn't want the law of surprise because that never ends well. Inside, this man is screaming, please do not take my kids in any capacity.

But isn't that what witchers ALWAYS want??? Children to make into MUTANTS????

So this poor (in every sense of the word) guy is stammering and angsting, but Lambert isn't paying any attention to him. He literally has not said a single word to him. He's not even looking at him. He's leaning a little to the right and looking past this guy, over his shoulder.

The farmer starts to get annoyed. Mr. Witcher, he thinks, I'm struggling here, help me out a little.

Lambert drops the nasty monster head with a thunk and turns back to the guy. Lamb is not particularly put out. He knew this family was poor. But still. This doesn't have to be for nothing.

He wipes the bloody sweat off his forehead with his arm and nods behind the man.

"What about him? He game?"

The farmer looks like his brain has just blanked out. He stares in silence. He slowly turns and looks behind him. Then he turns back to Lambert, waiting for him to laugh or to clarify. Lambert just stares at him expectantly.

"Well?" Lambert asks.

The penniless farmer is like.. "You---you want...m-...m-"

The young farmer doesn't wanna say it because that can't be right and he doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But Lambert is not helping him out at all. He's just looking at him like he's an utter dumbass, just waiting for him to get his shit together. "Spit it out, man."

Farmer tries again. "Mr. Witcher, sir. Are you saying that you want...my... FATHER?"

Lambert looks back at the object of his fascination. An older man is working, hauling bales of hay, loading them up in a wagon. And this man is like, mid-fifties, barrel chest covered with gray hair, full beard, inhospitable expression, overalls, dusty boots. He's thick, muscled and hard, he's covered in sweat, he's got calluses, he looks exactly like a man that's been busting his ass in the fields for more than a few decades.

As Lambert stares at the father, his expression starts to look a little hungry. "Is that your pops?"

"Uhhh yes?' The farmer's voice kind of screeches into a higher register.

Lambert shrugs. "Ok, well yea, your pops then. Ask 'im if he's game. Go ahead. I ain't got all day."

The young farmer just swivels, his eyes still in disbelief, still thinking he's going to humiliate himself. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him. He is starting to think maybe his youngest kid would make a good witcher after all. But Lambert is waiting and doesn't look perturbed. He doesn't look like he's kidding.

"Uh, dad?" The farmer is well, well into adulthood but his voice still cracks. But his dad hears.

The big older guy drops his bale and turns around. His eyes are sharp and hard. "Yep?"

The young farmer swallows. "Yes, um, father, the witcher here saved us."

"Obliged." The older man's voice is low, gravely, and he sounds like a man who does not suffer fools.

Lambert nods, an eager twinkle starting to gleam in his eyes. "Glad to help. It's what I do."

The young farmer continues, "And well, you know, we don't have any money to pay him. What with the bad harvest and all."

The dad nods, waiting. He's quiet too, not helping the young farmer out at all. So the younger farmer soldiers ahead. "So, father, he, the witcher that is, was wondering, um, if you would, um, want to be the uh..." he takes a breath and tries to say it fast, "tribute."

The young farmer almost faints from mortification. He's waiting for his dad to laugh at his idiocy. To shout at him. To kick his ass.

But what the Dad does is slowly raise his eyebrows. Then he turns purposefully towards Lambert. He switches his weight a little to one of his hips, and just quietly begins to look Lambert up and and down, assessing him with extreme interest. He is silently just raking his eyes from the top of Lambert's head down to his toes.

Lambert's grin gets wider, like it gleams, because at this point, he knows he's in. If the man is checking whether he is his type, then well, he's good with men. And Lambert just knows he'll be this man's type. Why wouldn't he be for fuck sake?

When the older man's gaze gets to his crotch, Lambert gives his prick a cocky little squeeze and licks his lips.

The older man grunts, and if the young farmer didn't know it was an interested noise, he certainly does when his father gives Lambert a wink. "Name's Abe, young buck."

The young farmer whispers several prayers for the gods to deliver him from this moment.

"Hi Abe," says Lambert, just eager and smug sounding as shit.

Abe takes his gloves off and hands them to his son as he passes him. He only says three words. "Don't wait up."

Lambert chuckles to himself, and there is a little hop in his step as they walk off together, since he is already anticipating the cock in his ass and could not be more overjoyed. Abe slides his hand down Lambert's trousers and squeezes his ass possessively.

The younger farmer just stands there with his jaw dropped. He had no idea whatsoever that his dad has this side to him. That man silently and stoically raised a family of seven children with his dearly departed mother, rest her soul. All his father ever did was work. You think you know a person. Honestly.

Lambert and Abe are long gone, and the son is still standing there in shock, when his beautiful young bride comes out of the house with a toddler on her hip. "Where did father go?"

The young farmer always likes that about his bride, she calls his dad father. "Yes. Heeee, um, went to pay the witcher for his services."

The young bride is surprised, she didn't know that father had money after the poor harvest they'd had, what with the locusts and all that. But oh isn't that a nice surprise, she thinks. "Well how generous of him. What a kind and giving man father is."

The young farmer puts his arm around his beautiful bride and pulls her in tight. "You know what my darling," he says, "it didn't seem like he minded in the least."

---the end

(and if any of you talented writers out there wants to write the sex scene, I would pledge my eternal friendship and love to you)

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #lambert #this is for my lambert loving homies #you know who you are #descarada writes

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artemisadore · 13 days ago

Note

🩸🐾 catcrow of course

This one got away from me! I hope you enjoy CatCrow pet names + patching up an injury, with a healthy dose of "I had no where else to go" 🩷

Rating: T

tw: mild blood, vague descriptions of injuries/first aid, references to abuse (physical and emotional)

Monty hisses through his teeth at the way throwing his body against the door of the cannery makes the pain in his side branch out like the gnarly limbs of a tree. He notes the pain, swallows it down, and braces himself accordingly when he does it again.

It's preternaturally quiet on the dock aside from Monty’s labored breathing, which would in theory be something good for Monty to note, if he weren't otherwise occupied with keeping himself upright.

“Come on,” he groans, beating uselessly against the door with his busted-up fist.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners, little bird?”

Monty whips around so quickly that the spinning in his head almost knocks him off balance. When his eyes finally focus in the darkness, he finds the Cat King watching him with glowing yellow eyes and a saccharine grin.

He continues easily, “Well, I suppose you were taken from your real mother as just a hatchling, hm? Plucked right from the nest by Esther dearest, caged before you even learned to fly.”

“God, you love to hear yourself talk,” Monty rasps, bitterness lacing his tone.

“I do indeed,” the Cat King preens, sauntering around Monty, who vaguely wonders if the monarch is only doing so to make him shift his weight if he wants to keep the predator in his sights. “And so must you, little bird, because I can't think of any other reason why you'd show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. Uninvited.” His expression falls to a mocking pout, one that makes Monty want to peck his stupid eyes out. “It's past the cats’ bedtime, you know.”

Monty takes in a steadying breath, again swallowing his pain and now also his frustration. “I—I need you,” he grits out.

The Cat King's eyebrows shoot up toward his slicked-back black hair. “My, my. I suppose I have to give you credit for your good taste. First Edwin, now—”

“Not like—fuck,” Monty groans between shallow breaths. “You're just—you’re the only one who—” Monty lets his eyes slip shut in resignation.

Submission, his prey-brain supplies.

“I had nowhere else to go.”

The admission feels acidic on his tongue.

He may have had somewhere to go, once. But now that place is an entire ocean away, full of people who either left him behind or forgot about him entirely, and he isn't sure which one hurts worse.

When Monty opens his eyes again, the Cat King is gone. But just as panic seizes his chest, he smells the familiar scent of incense he's grown to associate with the use of magic.

The Cat King has transported him somewhere — presumably in the cannery, though Monty has never been inside to know for sure — and left him perched on the edge of bed, awash in the glow of red and blue neon. In a quick flash of purple, the feline is back again, holding what appears to be a first aid kit.

Monty blanches at the sight. “Woah, hey, I just need a place to stay!” he says, hastening to make himself as small as possible.

The Cat King pays him no mind as he opens the kit on the bed. “Your knuckles are bruised, your ribs are broken, and you’re bleeding on my good furs from that gash on your side,” he snips cooly, picking his tools and materials with practiced ease.

The sight of it all makes Monty nauseous for reasons he'd rather not consider at the moment, so he pointedly looks away.

“For future reference, you don't get to be the idiot who gets the shit kicked out of him and the idiot who walks right into the lion's den with a broken wing. After tonight, you have to pick a struggle.” Monty’s skin prickles, which must mean the Cat King's eyes are back on him. “Shirt off.”

Monty winces, but he thinks better of arguing. It's a painful process, but he manages to rid himself of his blood-soaked t-shirt, which he discards with a small joy directly on the Cat King's floor.

The joy dissipates when the shirt disappears into thin air in a purple puff.

There's no preamble as the Cat King sets to work, manhandling Monty this way and that as he assesses his wounds. Monty stares past him through it all, unable to bring himself to meet his eyes. When the Cat King gets to the gash on his side, he hisses in what might be sympathy.

The sympathy, if it existed at all, is short-lived. The antiseptic applied to his side stings like a knife — a pain with which Monty is all-too familiar.

Monty expects the Cat King to chatter through it all, but the monarch works silently with a focused precision Monty didn't know he was capable of. It feels strange, being in such close proximity to a creature who could tear out his throat just as easily as he now mends his side.

But Monty has learned that it isn't always the animals that rip out your heart.

Sometimes it's a ghost.

When the Cat King is through, he steps back to examine his work. “Oh! How could I forget the most important part?” To Monty's surprise, the feline leans down into Monty's space once more, so close that he can see his pupils dilate in interest.

Monty isn't quite sure if they dilated before their first kiss, if you could even call it that — it happened so quickly.

But this isn't quick. The Cat King takes his time cupping Monty's cheek, sending a shiver down Monty's spine, one of both fear and intrigue. Monty lets his eyes flutter shut, anticipation taking root in his chest.

But instead of lips, it's the pad of a thumb that traces the space above his upper lip. Monty’s eyes blink open at the tingling sensation and, once again, the scent of incense.

“Wouldn't want a scar to mess up that pretty face, now would we?” the Cat King purrs, his smirk only growing as he pulls away triumphantly.

Monty touches his fingertips to his lip in awe, the skin as smooth as the day he was created. “You healed me,” he murmurs.

Esther healed him once or twice over the years, so it's not like he wasn't aware that it was possible.

Monty just wasn't aware that healing didn't have to hurt.

“It's a good thing you're cute, little bird,” the Cat King scoffs, “‘cause you sure ain't quick. It's sweet that you thought you'd get a repeat of our little forest ménage à trois, but I've done you enough favors tonight, wouldn't you agree?”

Monty wants to hate him — his stupid leather skirt and dumb combat boots, his infuriating smile and his cocky attitude, his chiseled jaw and his muscular arms and—and oh. Monty recognizes that feeling, the one that is so distinctly human, the one he swore he would never feel again.

Suddenly, something dawns on Monty. “Hold on. You have fucking healing magic. You could have just healed me!”

The Cat King's answering grin is Cheshire. “How would you ever learn to fly if I gave you all the shortcuts, birdie?”

Monty isn't sure whether he wants to kiss the Cat King or pummel him.

But the night is young — he may very well end up doing both.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #the cat king #monty the crow #monty finch #catcrow #save dead boy detectives #renew dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #writing prompts #drabble

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lizzy019 · 7 months ago

Text

𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐼𝓃 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒? ...𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒?

Sub!Two-Bit x Fem!Reader [Reader is best friends with Two-Bit] SLOW BURN!

cw -> somnophilia, masturbation, couch seggs, breast play, cowgirl, dacryphilia, light degradation

Word Count -> 6.2K (crazy ikr?)

Two-Bit is mah baby whatchu on abttttt

“Blasted car.” You muttered to yourself, parking your now useless vehicle onto the side of the road where people couldn’t hit it.

The car had stopped working, shooting out clouds of black smoke from its exhaust pipe while the little clunking noise had become repetitive from somewhere in the back of your vehicle.

With obvious exhaustion in your eyes, you find yourself trekking along the muddy and overgrown sidewalks, trying to spot Two-Bit’s house anywhere nearby to stay for a bit until a tow company could come pick up your car. Unfortunately, while you couldn’t find his house, you stumbled upon him trying to pick up a random innocent girl on the streets, who so clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

So with tired steps, you made your way over to the two and sighed heavily to announce your presence. This had Two-Bit looking over in confusion, smiling at you instantly and forgetting the other girl quicker than he could even think it. His hands grabbed your shoulders and happily shook you, making you a little dizzy, but a smile still managed to cross your face.

“Heya, numbnut! You wanna go with me to get ice cream? I’m so hungry, but food’s too hard to cook.” He frowned, hands moving to fix the little fold of hair hanging over his forehead. How could you possibly say no to him?

“I mean, I would, but my car’s busted. I think the engine’s worn out, and I was hopin’ I could stay over at your place until a tow truck driver comes by to pick up my car for a fix.” You murmured, hands pushed deep into the warm fabric of your pockets, eyes staying fixated on him as you watched him think.

With a soft grin on his lips, he nodded his head happily and politely let you loop your arm with his. In this sort of neighbourhood, any woman was likely to have something improper done to them without the supervision of another man. With paced steps, Two-Bit began to lead you to his house, talking away gleefully as you travelled to your awaiting destination.

“Oh, it was gnarly alright! The movie was sick, I don’t think I’ve ever seen somethin’ so swell! I ain’t never watched a movie starrin’ a girl either, but it was pretty alright. What about you, numby?” He asked with a smirk, awaiting an answer as you only shook your head and smiled.

What a big goof he was.

“Unlike you, I was drivin’ up to go get food. I was runnin’ low and you know how my family gets. I gotta be the one to do everythin’ nowadays..” You contempted, gently bumping him with your hip to try and get him to stumble. It was playful, a common little joke you did to amuse each other.

“Why were you buggin’ that girl? You gotta stop flirtin’ with ‘em just to bum their money, Two.”

Two-Bit scoffed at your words, bumping you back playfully and shrugging. Soon, you arrived at his home.

“My life’s boring, smartass. Gotta do somethin’ while Brenda’s at school, yeah? Somethin’ aside drinkin’ and eating cake while watchin’ Mickey, but it doesn’t matter. I like my way of doin’ things.” He answered, walking you to the side door and allowing you into his little bungalow house.

While inside reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and overall dirtiness, it held a sort of comfort that made it appealing to you. Maybe it was the mess in the kitchen that was all too real at your own home, or maybe it was the way Two-Bit flopped so freely onto the sofa without a care in the world in hopes he’d turn on the TV and find a rerun of a Mickey show, or maybe it was the way the house had this.. warm feeling. Regardless, you threw away all ladylike manners and plopped yourself down beside him, trying to prevent him from moving with your weight and giggling when he slammed a pillow to your face.

“Hey! That’s not nice, I’ve been nothing but kind to you.” You tried to act innocuous, yet it was rebutted with another whack of the pillow which had both of you laughing hysterically.

The hand on the time’s clock finally hit 6:30, and just a moment or two later, Two-Bit’s mother and Brenda came through the side door. Why was the side door so popular for entry when there was a front door?

Nonetheless, Brenda’s beady blue eyes met yours and the cute 6 year old ran over to you with the most curious and gleeful expression you could possibly think of. She was the spitting image of Two-Bit, chubby face with the cutest eyes, lovely dirty blonde hair and the prettiest little smile. She looked like an absolute sweetheart!

“Are you another girlfriend that.. that Keith brought home?” Brenda asked you, a soft inhale between words as she collected some of her thoughts to speak them properly. You had to choke back a laugh, smiling so widely you were sure you looked like the Cheshire cat.

“No, sweetie, I’m not. You’re Brenda, aren’t you? Your brother says everyone calls you Annie.” You responded with faux serenity, trying to maintain your composure at the sweet sight of the little female version of Two-Bit. It was honestly adorable.

With a bright little gappy smile, Brenda nodded and hopped onto the couch beside you, sweet little hands coming to fiddle around with your purse.

“Yeah, everyone calls me Annie or Bren, but you can call me whatever! I’m just happy you’re not one of those weird girls he brings over, they scare me.” She muttered, her little petite hands releasing your purse before moving to the sleeve of your shirt. She seemed very curious, but before you could say much, Brenda tried to wriggle herself into your lap to watch Mickey more comfortably. So Mickey Mouse was common in the household?

“Alright Annie. You know you’re very pretty, right? You look a lot like your brother and your mother.” You paused to speak, gently beginning to split the little amount of hair she had to put two small braids on her head.

Entwining the hair together to form a pattern while Two-Bit and Brenda laughed at whatever was playing on the TV screen, you didn’t have the chance to see his mother walk by, a tired expression clearly tainting her facial features before she appeared in your peripheral vision. She seemed very content watching the three of you, and you paid no mind as to not embarrass her.

“Do you three want anything in particular for dinner?” Her dulcet and soft voice rang through the room, alerting the two siblings and you as well.

You could only shrug, putting the decision on the two as you finished Brenda’s braids. Now she had two lovely french braids, loose enough to be comfortable but tight enough to stay in place.

“Potatoes ‘n gravy!” Brenda exclaimed with glee, hopping off of your lap to scurry over and help her mother in the kitchen with dinner.

You smiled graciously at this sight, and a simple thought ran through your head as you watched. Brenda was a good kid, swell beyond belief and as kind as any girl could hope to be. Two-Bit sat up as well, handing you the remote in case you wanted to watch anything while he walked over to help set up the table. It seemed everyone had a job in the family, a role to play to get a task done.

You shut off the TV, setting the remote on the coffee table and sighing while you pushed yourself up off of the sofa to follow behind. Entering the kitchen, you were met with the unpleasant sight of garbage mixed with beer bottles, cigarette packs, carton boxes and filth piled up. While it had you frowning, the way Two-Bit had Brenda on his shoulders, grabbing the plates from the highest shelf to set the table, and his mother with the most affectionate smile anyone could ever display while she watched them was what distracted you from the mess. As long as they were happy, nothing else really mattered.

His mother’s gaze fell to you, and with a smile, she gestured you over. Without a second thought, you hurried over and smiled back, giving her the softest expression you possibly could.

“Yes, ma’am? Did you need something from me?” You asked politely, and his mother nodded slowly.

“Yes, I need you to mash the potatoes while I make the gravy. They’re already peeled, could you do that for me? If you don’t wish to, I could get Keith to do it.” She hummed out, moving to the fridge to dig out the proper ingredients while you agreed to it without a doubt.

How could you possibly say no when she looked so tired already?

With gentle motions, you began to mash the softened potatoes, carefully smashing them in the bowl they were in and adding the occasional sprinkle of salt and pepper to add flavour. No one likes flavourless, warm mashed potatoes anyway.

Sitting at the dining room table, skies dark outside and the one light overhead keeping the dining room table lit, you all were happily chit chatting over some steamed chicken, mashed potatoes and veggies. You had to admit, Two-Bit’s mother could cook really damn good. Regardless, you couldn’t help but occasionally frown whenever it seemed that Brenda disliked the veggies. It was sweet though, you could see your own younger self in her at times.

“Annie, are you okay, sweetheart? You look like you don’t like your food.” You always found yourself in awe by how gentle his mother was, but you smiled when Brenda pouted and pushed away her plate, everything nearly licked clean off except for the damned veggies.

“Mama, I don’t wanna eat ‘em! Yucky.” She pouted, bottom lip pushed forward in a plea to not eat them.

With a soft sigh, their mother nodded and shooed away the child to go watch shows on the television while she finished the rest of the veggies. You felt bad, but you didn’t wanna say anything in case you were interrupting something. But you turned to Two-Bit and saw him purloining the vegetables from his mother’s plate, and it wasn’t even sneakily anymore. He probably had the same thought process.

His mother turned to him with a wide smile, and you couldn’t help smiling yourself. She looked so happy.

“Keith, where will your friend stay? The guest room is occupied with all of our things. Would it be awkward to ask if you two could maybe share a bed for tonight? If not, we can clean up the guest bedroom for her.” She was almost too sweet, and you could tell Two-Bit was thinking the same thing.

While it would indeed be a bit awkward sleeping together with your best friend, you didn’t wish to put her through more work considering she just came back from a 14 hour shift. You shook your head, taking all the plates and cutlery to put them into the sink. In the kitchen with a sponge in hand, you began to clean all the used dishes and cutlery, as well as the glasses. It was the least you could do since they let you stay at their place for a day or two until the tow truck came. Unfortunately, there was still no one. Apparently they were “behind on schedule.”

Once you were finished, you looked back into the living room where Two-Bit had another beer in his hand, Brenda was sitting with a box of juice, and their mother laid on the armchair with a blanket on her lap trying to get some sleep. It was a sweet sight, you couldn’t lie.

“Two-Bit, can I use your shower? I promise I won’t be long, but where is it?” You asked serenely, smoothly almost.

His gaze wafted over to yours, and he nodded while he sat up to lead you to the bathroom. Soft steps followed by creaking floorboards were all that was heard for a moment or two. The hallway walls were littered with family photos, the one that stood out to you the most was the one with just Two-Bit, his mom and his dad. Two-bit had a father?

You paid no mind, tippy-toeing until you found the bathroom at the end of the hall. You thanked him silently, giving his arm a little slap before giggling and hiding away in the bathroom.

Stripping the clothes you wore off of your body so you could freely shower, the cold tiles of the floor stinging your feet, you began to find yourself smiling at the little collection of rubber ducks you presumed were Brenda’s. It was sweet, honestly. You turned on the shower, keeping it at your favourite temperature before hopping in to wash away any stress left behind from your car incident. While it was nice staying with Two-Bit, you had this little nagging feeling in your chest, something tight that made everything feel a little too rough around the edges.

You tried convincing yourself that it was just stress as you washed your body with soap, lathering it on all parts of flesh that were dirty or sore before rinsing under the shower’s waves of rain. You were losing it, there was no way you were falling for Two-Bit and just how lovely his whole lifestyle was. There was no way from a simple visit to his house, you had finally managed to convince yourself of it.

But that can only hold out for so long.

Two-Bit handed you a shirt while you embarrassingly covered your breasts from his view, taking the shirt in your free hand before he turned around so his back faced you, giving you privacy to put it on. You did just that, you threw the shirt over your head and popped your arms through the sleeve holes, finding the shirt to be just a tad bit too loose as it hung low around your collarbone.

Nonetheless, you found it cozy and you found yourself liking the smell of it. Needless to say it stunk with cigarette and beer, but it also had that scent that only Two-Bit had, that little chocolatey and woody kind of smell. It was nice, you couldn’t lie.

It had now reached 10:30 at night, you were exhausted from everything and honestly, you really didn’t want any more disturbances, so you tugged at Two-Bit’s arm and gestured for him to lay down and rest as well. Your head rested on the pillow he provided you, eyes already shut as his weight dipped the bed. You smiled softly when he covered your body with the blanket, it was sweet.

“Mmh.. thanks for everything, Two-Bit. ‘M sorry the tow truck company isn’t here yet, I swear I called them twice.” You apologized, hands tucked close to you as you felt yourself drifting off too quickly.

Two-Bit didn’t seem to mind, he was busy watching how your body looked in his shirt. He couldn’t tell you what was happening to him, how you affected him and how you annoyingly messed with his mind more than you already did. He simply gave a hum of acknowledgement to your statement, watching you fully succumb to the strength of your exhaustion before he moved his hand to rub at his crotch.

It was wrong, he knew it was. But he also knew you were a deep sleeper, he could use that to his advantage.

A hand came to dig his own half erection from his underwear, and his other trying to gently push up your shirt without having you stir or move. It was a selfish and greedy way to get what he wanted, what he’d been seeking since he first met you. He knew you’d never feel the same, you’d never wanna be with a guy like him. Someone scolded by society, shunned and disgraced.

Two-Bit was different from Keith. Keith was soft towards his family, loving to his friends, but Two-Bit was the one who was rebellious, boisterous and careless.

Soft groans left his mouth as he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, nipples erect from the cold of the air. The way they moved and swayed whenever you subconsciously moved your body to become more comfortable. He felt so wrong, he didn’t know if this was a Two-Bit move or a Keith move. Whichever it was, it was a low move for the sake of getting his own pleasure.

His strokes on his weepy cock became more desperate until he focused solely on the tingling and burning of an orgasm building up. Poor Two-Bit, struggling not to moan, cum, or move too much for the sake of himself and everyone else’s sleep. But surely enough, his hand clasped the tip of his cock while thick spurts of semen began to spew out from the head, overfilling his hand and some inevitably pouring onto the bedding.

A loud whimper managed to leave his throat, until he too was knocked out from exhaustion. The sleep had managed to overcome his own need to clean up his hand and rid it from the semen on it, but he was dead asleep before he even had the thought to go and clean himself up. He’d do it in the morning..

Waking up to rustling fabrics wasn’t the most pleasant way to start your morning, but it was enough to get you going. You pulled down your shirt which you thought innocently was shifted while you were asleep, stretching and accidentally bonking Two-Bit right in the head. This woke you up more properly, and you began to apologize lazily.

“Mmh.. sorry, Two. Didn’t mean it.” You hummed, voice groggy from lack of use during the night while you tried to blink your eyes awake. Unfortunately, you were still too tired to even care about starting the day when the bed was warm and Two-Bit was there beside you.

However, Two-Bit looked down at his crotch, angry with his new morning wood he hadn’t realized until he moved his legs. But when he saw you were oblivious to it, he took it as his chance to get out of his own room as fast as he possibly could. Pants on and shirt messy, he zipped out from the room, leaving you hazy and confused all by yourself.

You didn’t mind, eyes adjusting to the daylight beaming through the curtains. You hummed and groaned softly, pushing yourself off of the fabric mattress and rubbing your eyes. Everything was stiff, your legs and back especially. Maybe some breakfast and a walk would do you some good.

You hobbled out of bed, securing some pants before peeking into Brenda’s room to check in on the sweetheart. She was just happily snoozing away, you couldn’t bring yourself to wake her up. Tip-toeing to the living room and dining room, you saw their mother still on the couch, Two-Bit reading the newspaper and sipping some tea. This had you smiling, he looked rather handsome with eye bags and glazed eyes.

Wait- handsome?!

You caught yourself mid thought, looking at him more thoroughly and your eyes uncomfortably drifted lower to where a slight bulge was most prominent under his pants. Your own body shivered, eyes darting back into the kitchen out of nervousness and discomfort as you made yourself a tea as well.

Soon enough, once your water had finished boiling, you had poured yourself a soft tea with sugar and honey to get you started, and you sat near the television to spectate over his mother in case she woke up and needed anything. She was such a sweetheart, and definitely needed the most care. Soft sips were the only noises heard in the room, coming from you and Two-Bit drinking your morning drinks. While it wasn’t pleasant, it had a nice and cozy, homey feeling.

You occasionally looked over at Two-Bit, seeing him unfocused as if he was using the newspaper to look busy but in reality it was only to cover up whatever else his mind was doing. It always wandered, Two-Bit’s thoughts.

Once you had finished your tea, you’d set it down on the coffee table and hurried to get dressed, needing to see if they took your car or not. Your own blouse was put on, pants as well before you rushed to the front door to grab your shoes. A soft “see you” was uttered by Two-Bit, and you responded with the same words before lightly jogging out of the house to go check.

Jogging through the front door and down the stairs, you managed to spot what looked like an oil blotch where your car was parked previously. A “yes!” escaped you when you realized they’d taken your car, and hopefully would be finished fixing it in a day. You didn’t wish to invade Two-Bit and his family’s home as if it was normal.

You jogged back to the house, a little tweak in your breath but overall having a more refreshed feeling now that you had breathed in the fresh air and got that good news. Once you entered through the side door like before, you found yourself looking around in confusion. Where had Two-Bit’s mother gone? Your worry was soon replaced with relief when Brenda had rushed into the living room, jumping with energy while her mother followed behind her.

Her tired eyes met yours, and she smiled gently at your soft huffs and puffs. Her smile didn’t hurt you in the slightest.

“Running in the morning? I didn’t take you for the athletic type, dear.” She hummed, taking the newspaper from Two-Bit to read it herself and sighing deeply.

“What misfortunes ruin our world now?”

You chuckled at her question, shrugging and playfully slapping the back of Two-Bit’s head. It earned a soft chuckle from him, and you chuckled as well.

“John Kennedy is elected President? What a mockery to our country.” Two-Bit’s mother hissed, earning a laugh from you both.

You looked at the bill for your car’s payment and the due date of your car’s pick up day.

$324.

Bill due - Sept. 18

Pick up day - Sept. 14

You had a week to pay off your car’s repairs, and had to wait three more days until you could pick up your vehicle?

It nearly had tears in your eyes, but you let them flow freely since you were all alone in the now quiet house. No Two-Bit, no Brenda, or their mother. The only sound in response to your sobs were the echoes of them once they left your throat.

How could you possibly pay off this bill in that short amount of time? Everything was getting so stressful and worrisome, it was all just piling up and piling up-

A loud creak startled you out of your spiral, making your body tense almost too fast and had your poor heart rate increasing faster than it had to be. Regardless of that, you tried your hardest to stop your unnecessary tears, fearing whoever was in the house would ridicule you for it. Whoever it was, it had every nerve in your body tightening as the footsteps grew nearer.

The door to Two-Bit’s door had opened, and sure enough, it was him. At first, you couldn’t tell what his expression was, but he hurried in to help you when he saw your current distress.

For a second, you truly didn’t know what to do, but you handed him the papers you received and he read them over carefully for your sake and his comfort. Two-Bit had to re-read it multiple times over, reading it out of confusion and laughing afterward. This seemed so incredibly stupid! You both were rather incredulous about the whole situation, but when he saw you had true distress, worry, and stress behind your beautifully coloured eyes, he knew he had to act properly. Even if you were best friends, he really had to step up and be the person you could lean on.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll help pay this off with you, yeah? You don’t even owe me after, how’s that sound?” Two-Bit offered generously, his expression grim as he saw you wipe tears from your face.

However, words couldn’t describe how happy he was when he saw you smiling all big and wide again at his offer, still sniffling a little. His hand came to gently rub your shoulder out of comfort and instinct, he couldn’t ever tell you how he felt seeing you so melancholy.

“Yeah, thanks, Two. I’d really appreciate that.” You hummed, sniffling once or twice more before he pulled you in for an honest hug.

Soon, it was the evening of the next day. You’d become Brenda’s “favourite girlfriend of Keith’s” despite not being his girlfriend, but you let her call you it anyway. You were happy the sweet little girl liked you so much to begin with!

You sat with Brenda on the couch, her in your lap as you both watched whatever was on TV. Two-Bit was staring holes into your skull as you put your focus on the screen, but he could tell you were only doing it for his sister’s enjoyment. He loved that about you, the way you were so sweet to his sister purely because you were his best friend.

He didn’t want to be best friends though.

It was almost unhealthy how obsessed he was with you, how desperately he wanted to be wrapped around your inner walls and feel your body pressed to his. To feel what your kisses would be like, to grope you and have you as his in totality and to push any risk and discontentful thoughts of being just a friend. It was like some uncontrollable magnetic pull, something that attracted him to you without meaning.

Two-Bit stuttered out of his thoughts when his mother came into the room, looking at Brenda with knowing eyes. Brenda gave a “hmph” before hopping from your lap, and she hurried off with her mother. You were confused, but you didn’t want to ask questions and seem rude for not letting his family have their privacy. You watched as the two put on their outdoor shoes before Brenda waved goodbye to you.

Soon enough, they had headed out and it was just you and Two-Bit alone in the house once again. While this caused you discomfort, you didn’t say anything and just shut off the TV.

However, Two-Bit sat right beside you, stiff as a sack of twigs before his eyes met yours. You could tell he was nervous from the way his eyes couldn’t maintain eye contact, and the way he was fidgeting in his seat was also a definite giveaway. But you didn’t say anything out of kindness.. and because he looked a little too pathetic.

“I gotta talk to you. Not no joke either, need you to be serious here.” He muttered out to you, hoping you heard him properly since his voice was all too quiet.

You nodded at his words, giving him your full and undivided attention while you waited patiently for him to properly collect and plan out what he wanted to tell you. It took some time, some open mouthed tries to spurt a word or two out, yet he struggled.

Finally, he worked out whatever knot he had in his throat and looked at you more seriously.

“I dunno how to tell you this, but somethin’s been goin’ on with me. I used to see you as a friend, a good friend no less, but now you’re lookin’ more and more like a goddess from the heavens. I catch myself havin’ these spirals of likin’ you so much to the point it hurts, and then it goes to some lewd and lustful part of me that wants to have you so fully in my hands. My little Minnie mouse, I dunno what to do anymore.” Two-Bit spoke almost too fast, you had to focus and listen real close.

Once you understood, you gave the softest hum and looked at your own lap. You didn’t quite know how to react. Sure, you felt the same, but how would that work? Regardless, your gaze came back to meet his and your confused expression became more accepting, more serene and agreeable.

“The feeling’s mutual then. I guess it’s a requited emotion we’re both experiencing, is it not?” You hummed out, your legs moving to straddle his hips while you looked at him intently.

Two-Bit was absolutely ecstatic when he got your confirmation on you feeling the same about him, his heart beating almost too fast and it felt like it would rip right through his ribcage. Hell, he’d let it do it if it wasn’t for him needing his heart to live. His dry hands came to touch the skin of your waist under your little top.

Your skin was so soft, warm and plush when he pressed his fingers into it to grip you better. The strength of his grip wasn’t too bad, but it showed his insistence on having you stay on his lap. You couldn’t help but smile, a hand coming to gently pull his bottom lip away from the top one. Soon enough, your mouths were pressed to one another and everything began to unfold.

Tongues swirling around, you could only enjoy what he tasted like. Beer obviously, but there was this little minty taste too, something alluring that had you trying to push your mouth closer to his own. Unfortunately, you could only go so far.

Nonetheless, his hands needily tried to tug at your top to signal that he wanted it off, and that he had to have you in that totality he yearned for for so long. Desperate attempts were ensued, and he finally managed to fling it off of you and toss it to the side. The kiss was put on pause as he eyed your breasts so perfectly held up by your bra, a lovely shaded colour that complimented your skin.

“Oh baby, you’re so pretty..” He hummed, unclipping the bra and putting it to the side. He was practically drooling when he saw your supple breasts on display, just for him.

Two-Bit attached his mouth to your nipple, eliciting a moan from your pretty lips while his hand was playing and tweaking the other one until they were both hard and tingly. Call him a simp, but he was genuinely getting off to your soft noises and the way your body reacted so pleasantly to his ministrations. You felt your pussy leaking in your panties for him, for his own body.

“Oh, Keith.. yeah, you’re doin’ good, baby. Fuckin’ shit..” You groaned, a hand grasping his bicep while the other fiddled with his hair.

The praise you so graciously handed him and calling him his real name had his already erect cock tightening the confines of his jeans further. He’d love hearing you degrade him, but maybe that’d be too embarrassing to ask for and he’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t need it that bad.

He pulled away from your nipple, his hands moving to wriggle your pants off of you, pulling your undergarments off with it until you were bared entirely to him. While it was indeed a bit embarrassing, you found yourself yearning for some kind of acceptance from him, not just some blank stare.

Truth be told, he was just admiring how wet you’d gotten for him, and how it’d stained your panties and left a lovely sticky patch all in between your thighs. If he’d known any better, he’d be eating it all up like it was his last meal. But no, this moment wasn’t about one person getting pleasure only. Two-Bit wanted to experience a moment of true cherishment with you, where it was both of you in your own world experiencing only feelings you could bring each other. So he took his clothes off as well, both of you bare and flat on the sofa. No, he wanted you to be in control, he wanted to see you take him like every fantasy he had of you wanted.

“Get on top’a me, baby. You take the lead, yeah?” He murmured out sweetly, stroking his weepy cock in his hand while he waited for you to start.

You both adjusted positions, now he was flat on his back on the sofa with his hands at your hips, and you meticulously fisted his cock once or twice before sitting yourself atop it. It was a struggle, but your self-lube and his precum were enough to make the movement quick, and soon his erection slipped into your pussy’s walls and enveloping his length happily.

Moans were bouncing and echoing off of the living room walls, the only thing repeating in your mind was how to move your hips and legs, and how amazing Two-Bit’s hard rod felt deep inside your core, kissing your cervix with a painful little pang until everything became mind numbingly sensational.

“Oh Keith! Yeah, baby, get that dick in there! Come on, you makin’ me do all the work? You lazy sack of shit.” You chided with pants and hard inhales, exhales becoming too hard to control.

He moaned wildly at your degradation, hips bucking into your pelvic bone to make up for his slacking that you made abundantly clear you disliked. His head was thrown back, hot streams of tears falling down his cheeks while he tried so hard to appease you and overcome your expectations.

The orgasm bubbling and moving in your lower stomach was almost painful with how strong it was trying to push through, but you held on and smirked at his tears. It showed how good you were making him feel, and it was honestly pretty hot. Regardless of that, you focused for a bit longer, watching him really begin to writhe and squirm.

“Oh fuck, baby, gonna cum! Ohh God yes, don’t stop! I’ll be good, wanna be good for you, baby!” Two-Bit shrieked in ecstasy, the orgasmic feeling of your walls tightening against him was almost enough to have his tip burst out semen, but he held on just like you were.

It was like a silent challenge to see who’d climax first.

Two-Bit struggled, eyes squeezed shut as they spurted more tears. Sure enough, his fingers dug into your waist when his climax shot through every nerve in his body, causing his movements to cease while he waited for his pleasured climax to simmer down.

You thrusted yourself onto his cock once or twice more until you too reached the climax you were pining for. It made a loud moan rip from your rest, reverberating your vocal cords while your release lifted you to cloud nine. It was white, searing pleasure, nothing less of congenial ecstasy.

Now it was just silence, asides the huffs and puffs you both gave as you recuperated from what was the most heavenly experience you could possibly live to go through.

“Well.. that was a wild experience, haha! Come on, let’s go wash off before Annie and mom come back from their program.” Two-Bit hummed out, kissing your cheek graciously before taking your hand and leading you off into the shower.

It was now safe to say you two had grown more close after that day. Hand holding became common, visits at each other’s places and shaboinking was a regular. You couldn’t say you disliked it at all. Except for the occasional weird stares you received out in public whenever people caught you two being all close. In the 60s, it was more improper for a woman to be boisterous and forward about her relationship, especially in the hood.

Now it came down to one final issue, and while it didn’t cause much harm to anything important, it served as a great annoyance to your day and commonly had you groaning with an eye roll and with a smile.

Little miss Brenda with all her curious questions, always asking you the cutest but most annoying things on the planet. It was sweet, but it got progressively harder to tolerate.

“Are you and Keith in love? For real this time?” She asked with a tone you couldn’t exactly code out, but you simply chuckled and patted her head.

“Yes, Keith and I are very in love, for real this time, Annie.” You answered, watching her expression contort into skepticism.

“He’s my brother, and even I wouldn’t trust him with that.” She retorted, pouting and stomping away.

This had both you and Two-Bit snickering quietly to yourselves, sharing a soft and innocent kiss before he parted to go and chide his sister.

#the outsiders smut #x reader #smut #two bit matthews x reader #two bit mathews #keith mathews #friends to lovers #keith mathews x reader #the outsiders two bit #the outsiders twobit

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dimicul · 7 months ago

Text

bear with me 🍎

🧸 ushijima x reader, some fluff basically, him being him, sharing headphones, not fully finished but yk yolo

You loved the route back home.

It’s a tricky one to find, hidden behind clusters of large trees and bushes, almost hidden away from the public eye. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you found it, but you just remember swatting at the scratchy branches and peering over the makeshift wooden bridge in front of you. The sun always leaks through the leaves, kaleidoscopic patterns of gold on your head, your shoulders, your bike as you trudge past. It’s a short path, not exactly a shortcut, but it’s quiet. Hidden away from the main highway by your school. Nice and tucked away.

Dirty, busted up converses dig into the soil as you balance on the bridge, hands clutching the handles of your bike. Slow and measured steps. The fall below isn’t bad, you think. Maybe five foot. Your eyes stayed glued on the wooden beams, inhaling sharply as you make your way to the end, the buzz of cicadas filling the silence.

You hated them. Their merlot red eyes, beady and vehement. You can’t count how many nightmares you’ve had imagining their webbed wings fluttering in your face, all up in your hair, making a home for themselves.

He was never scared though. Never.

“Are you close?”

You turn your head a bit, your cheek brushing against the windbreaker collar. “Yeah, yeah…”

An almost ghostly smile tugs at the corner of Ushijima’s lip, and he nods, expectantly, his own hands on his bike. You inhale. He knew you were scared. Hell, of course you were, every single damn time. But you didn’t want him knowing that.

You take another step, a groan under your weight. Eyes widen.

“You’re fine. It was my bike.”

“Ushi,” You warn weakly and swear the bark beneath you shivers the same when he chuckles, full and baritone. He takes a few steps closer, the whirr of his bike chain accenting the buzz.

“I don’t understand why you take this path if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You reply hastily, brows furrowed. Ushijima hums, oakmoss eyes narrowing a tad. “It’s just… Not stable..”

“We can always turn around.” He offered quietly, his own eyes studying the trees towering above you both. “What if you fall?”

Jeez, way to stress a girl out. “I won’t. I’ve been doing this for a while.”

Ushijima hums, but says nothing. You were adamant on showing him your secret path to and from school. He didn’t get it. Why didn’t you just take the normal path, like him and Tendou? What was wrong with biking down the road? It had to be safer than crossing a gnarly bridge.

Determinedly, you shove that ugly feeling of embarrassment down and push past, converse against oak, bike wheeling beside you. You make sure to note how the wood beneath you looks so similar to his eyes.

“Isn’t it pretty, though?” You muse as soon as you finally cross the bridge, onto a patch of grass near an opening of brambles. Ushijima wasn’t opposed to nature, although he didn’t particularly like the bees or butterflies, like Tendou or you did. Bristling, the man takes another calm step down the bridge, eyes drawing from the trees, the oak, the buzzing of cicadas.

“You risk your life everyday because it’s… pretty?”

You scoff playfully, your bright eyes on him, lips tugging into a smile. God. His heart races picks up a little, fingers flexing against the handlebars. Ushijima isn’t a man of cheap pleasures, but when your lips tug into a cathartic grin, he has no choice to slip.

“You’re so dramatic, Toshi. I’m not gonna die. It’s a five feet drop.”

“You are small. You could easily injure your ankle. Or fall into some poisonous nettles.” Ushijima grunts, giving the bridge a wary look but still continuing calmly to steer his bike over to you. You raise a brow.

“I’m a big girl, I think I can handle it.”

Ever so stubborn. A deep sigh leaves his lungs and he easily steps over the rock in the way, his bike effortlessly gliding to you. Your eyes meet his and you grin.

“So? What’dya think?”

It’s a path, hidden in the woods, away from everyone. Someone could chase you in here and nobody would know. A poorly crafted bridge. Cicadas swarming everywhere. It wasn’t even safe, not for someone like you, who could easily slip and fall. Ushijima rolls his jaw subtly, umber eyes on your expectant smile.

“It’s… nice.”

“What? Just nice? It’s so pretty! Look, they’ve even got a small lake down there!” You point below the bridge, a cool blue catching his eye.

“If you drank that, you could possibly catch som—“

“Why the hell would I drink— Okay, big guy, let’s head out.” Shaking your head with a smile, you hum and pull yourself out onto the pavement. Ushijima follows suit, and hides his frustration as best as he could. Why didn’t you just listen?

Your hands dig into your school blazer pocket and you fish out your jumbled up earphones and your small phone. Ushijima sighs.

“Wha happened to your phone case?”

You blink, pausing to lean the bike against the bus stop wall as you stick the headphone jack in. “Oh, it just got all yellow, I need a new one.”

“You’ll end up cracking it.”

You shake your head, smiling, tilting your phone in his face. “Nah, look! Not a single scratch.”

The man bristles and steers his bike beside yours, crossing his arms, neutral expression as he watches you scroll on your phone. You had so many apps, the brightly coloured widgets making his eyes hurt.

“Wanna listen?” As always, you offer him an earbud. He takes the small white bud and hums, putting in his ear. Before opening his mouth to complain about the ear-bleeding level of volume, your smile catches him off guard.

He loves watching you listen to music. Maybe because you’re so visceral about it, head bobbing up and down ever so slightly, wide eyed and smiling slightly as you listen to whatever K-POP lyrics filled both your ears. Mouthing the lyrics, nose scrunched up. So silly, out in front of everyone. And yet his heart thuds.

“I like this one… Though I’m not sure about the beat.. Here, you pick,” You ramble and thrust the phone in his direction and he grunts.

“You don’t like my music.”

A shrug. “So? I like you.”

His breath hitched. How did you just admit that so freely with a stupid grin? He shakes his head, dark hair falling into his eyes, the phone comically small in his grasp. He scrolls down your playlist.

“Do you think you’d ever win a fight against a bear? Like really?” Your genuine tone catches him off guard as his fingers tap on the Study playlist he made for you. Ushijima huffs, brows narrowing.

“Where did that come from?”

You shrug again, shuffling up onto your bike seat, leaning against it. Ushijima hopes you don’t fall off of it like last time so instinctively, his strong arm holds your bike firmly. “Just wondering, ya know? I feel like I could take one on.”

“Impossible. I suppose it depends on the bear.” He says begrudgingly, tucking your phone into his pocket, stepping in closer so the wires didn’t came apart. “But I doubt that will matter if it’s you.”

“The heck is that supposed to mean, Toshi?”

Ushijima sighs again, barely. “A bear hit could fracture you easily. They’re much larger and stronger than you are, you couldn’t simply outrun them.”

“If I had my bike?” You point out. Ushijima makes a mental note to not let you walk down that path on your own.

“No. They’re fast creatures. Up to 30 to 40 miles per hour.”

“How the hell do you know that?” You frown at your boyfriend. Ushijima doesn’t elaborate, simply explaining with narrowed brows.

“You would easily be mauled and killed, a human your size and with your stamina. Grizzly bears can overpower humans easily. So no, you couldn’t, not even with a weapon.

“That’s — I could shoot it in the face!” Outraged slightly, you gesture a gun. “Or maybe I can fight with it until it becomes tired.”

To your surprise, Ushijima flicks your forehead.

“No. There is no chance. Statistically speaking. Unless you know how to use a knife properly, which we know you can’t.”

Your shoulders falter at his words and you sigh, rolling your eyes and fishing out your phone out of his pocket with a small ‘sure buddy.’ Ushijima bristles, gaze flickering to your face. A beat of silence passes.

“Maybe a cub.”

#haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi #wakachan #haikyuu boys #oikawa tooru #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x reader #fluff #ushijima fluff #kageyama tobio #anime #oneshot #fluffyushijima #kuroo tetsurou #nishinoya yuu #headcanon #sharing headphones

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