#horizon is so bad about this GOD

[egophiliac]

I love the idea of teenage Malleus hating his new baby brother Silver but slowly falling for him

words cannot express how much I adore that Mal's reaction to seeing a human baby for the first time was "the fuck is this. why does it look like that. gross." (then he immediately got stuck on babysitting duty and the rest is history)

I am SUCH a sucker for that trope of "non-humans being fascinated by normal human behavior", so between that and all the delicious angst going on I was eating VERY well. >:) Malleus being so impressed that two-year-old Silver can walk, because it took him twenty years to stand on two legs! Lilia barging in on the Zigvolts at 2 AM being like "he won't stop crying what do I do"! Lilia trying to feed Silver rats and Malleus being like "...please just stick with what the books say to feed it"! it is all so. chef's kiss.

[gamebunny-advance]

Random Question Time

[sunbunnyyy]

i know i just got here, but seeing all of the laughably bad takes from both sides of the spectrum is convincing me that no, i don’t actually need to be on social media again.

[nbclover]

hehehe

[caelivir]

synopsis. you’ve been deliberately dodging atsumu miya. he wants to know why.

pairing. atsumu miya x fem!reader | wc. 2.0k (it wasn’t even supposed to be this long) | genres. (implied) university au, tbh i don’t even know what this dynamic is, he calls us princess, reader’s kinda bad emotionally, rain confessions

notes. for my birthday (not gojo’s eff him (/j)) i decided why not take one of my favorite tropes of all time and pair it w the loml. you’re so welcome. this is very dialogue heavy, barely proofread, and a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy regardless.

"(y/n)." the very familiar, sultry yet aggravating voice says the moment you step out of the cafe.

"oh my god!" you jump, clutching a hand over your heart that skipped a beat. it's immediately followed with a glare towards atsumu. "what the fuck, miya? you don't just come up to people like that."

"sorry." atsumu apologizes but his nose scrunches at the word. "nah, not really. didn't know how else to get to ya."

"so you had to find me at my job?" you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

he shrugs. "yer really not leavin' me with any other choice."

"what are you on about?" you roll your eyes as you take a sharp left, carefully exhaling out. the street is nearly deserted now that the sun sunk past the horizon, leaving only the street lights and the moon to illuminate what would be a pitch black scene. puddles of water are scattered along the walkways, remnants of the downpour that occurred earlier in the day. you had clocked out later than usual, and the next flash of rain is predicted to fall within the next few minutes. you want to get back to your dorm before the worst of it happens.

"ya know what i'm talking about." atsumu huffs. "yer clearly avoiding me."

your shoulders tense when he brings it up, and you pray that atsumu doesn't catch it. "i'm not." you lie, your heart speeding up.

"yer a shit liar. i hope ya know that." atsumu shuts you down right then and there. the fact he's able to makes you wince. that's one of the many bones you have to pick with him. he can always see right through you, and it allows him to get under your skin easily since he knows exactly what to say if he wants to get a reaction out of you.

it's because of that reason that you've been avoiding him. you know yourself well enough that if you were to stand face to face with atsumu miya as you are now, he'd figure out the secret that you've been hiding for two weeks.

atsumu presses his lips together, sighing once he realizes that all he'll get from you from this point forward is silence, but he tries his luck anywayy. "can we talk?"

you let his question fizzle out in the air, continuing down the sidewalk as atsumu follows by your side. the first drops of drizzle fall onto your hand and cheek. atsumu feels them too.

"look, it's gonna rain soon. could ya at least let me take ya home? yer gonna get soaked." atsumu gently reaches out for your hand. the sudden contact and its spark of heat makes you jump. instinctively, you yank your hand away from him. your widened eyes snap towards him, and shame washes over you. maybe the street lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear there's a flicker of hurt in his gaze. you turn away from him because you can't bear the sight of it.

"are ya mad at me? did i do somethin' to upset ya?" atsumu continues.

no, you answer in your head. you can't trust yourself to say it out loud without betraying anything else. it's not that.

"(y/n), please. talk to me." atsumu pleads. you don't think you've ever heard such desperation in his voice before. you've never seen him so raw. it's almost enough to break you, but you refuse to let go the threads of your resolve. the rain is picking up; it's cold as it soaks the threads of your clothes.

"princess." atsumu throws in as a last ditch effort. you know it is because it's the one nickname that gets you riled up the most. it sparks a reaction that atsumu knows will get you talking, but unbeknownst to him it's not for the reason he expects. he wants you to snap with anger, but all your heart does is ache. all it does is melt you into putty in his hands.

"don't call me that." you finally come to a stop, turning so that you can face him, defeat in your gaze. atsumu's blond locks are beginning to lose volume; they stick to his forehead as droplets continue to fall. his hoodie is littered with small, dark stains, a physical consequence of the rain.

"oh now i got yer attention." atsumu scoffs, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

"miya." you warn, voice shaking. he ignores it.

"yer not being yerself, and ya haven't been for the last two weeks." he tells you as if you don't already recognize it yourself. "what's goin' on with ya?"

"nothing!" you deny. "i'm fine!"

atsumu rolls his eyes. "cut the crap, princess."

"seriously, stop calling me that!" you spit back at him.

you're shivering. you can't tell if it's because of your cold, wet clothes or your frustration that keeps reaching new levels. you can sense it; you can sense that your heart is about to claw itself out of chest and dump itself onto the feet of atsumu miya. your hand fists the fabric of your soaked shirt as if to keep it in.

"then tell me what's wrong!" the blond in front of you demands, running a hand through his hair. his voice projects over the brutal force of the rain.

you grimace. that's the one thing you can't do, especially since it involves him. you bite your tongue, hiding your face so that atsumu doesn't see the glassiness of your eyes. "miya... please drop it." you ask him pathetically.

"why?" he pries. this is the other issue with him. he's so damn stubborn to the point that it's infuriating. atsumu miya never backs down until he gets what he wants.

"because it's you!" the first wave of tears break free. they cascade down your cheeks, mixing in the stream of rain on your cheeks; all while your hand remains pointed at atsumu. "because i fell for you!"

atsumu shuts his mouth, going completely silent. you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "i bet you didn't expect that, did you? believe me, i didn't either. day in and day out all we've ever done was argue so i don't know how this happened. i don't know why i have these feelings for you."

wiping your face is a futile attempt yet you still do it anyway. a sob gets caught in your throat, and you choke on it. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't be near you without my heart attempting to leap out of chest. and so yeah, i've been avoiding you miya, and it's because you've made me so damn weak."

your stare finds atsumu's. you can't get a read on him, but you don't have to second guess that he can see the pain swirling in your eyes. it's so humiliating that even now the first thing that crosses your mind is how good he looks even as you feel your heart being torn apart. his hair is completely stuck to his forehead. his blond ends that are soaked through and through drip their excess water onto his face. you want nothing more than to brush them out of his line of sight, but you can't. you fight that desire by balling up your fists.

"so please just leave me alone. stop trying to find me because i can't take this anymore." you beg through hiccups.

you wait for a response. you wait to see if atsumu will kick your heart aside. in an even better scenario, which is far from likely, he accepts it. you'll take either or.

but he does neither, and that's fine too. you leave atsumu by himself on the sidewalk, and your lack of presence pulls him out of his trance. he jogs to catch up to you, reaching from behind to clasp your hand in his.

"miya, let go-"

"no." he says firmly, a newfound fire burning behind his eyes, one that exceeds the one you feel on your hand. the sight makes you gulp. "ya can't just confess yer feelings for me and leave."

you chuckle weakly, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. "i think i can."

"no, ya can't. ya didn't even give me a chance to say anythin'." atsumu argues. he doesn't relinquish the hold he has on you.

"what more do you have to say? you don't feel the same, and that's fine-"

"could ya stop assuming things?! i never even said that." atsumu squeezes your hand ever so lightly in frustration. "and by the way, i'm not gonna leave ya alone. i'll follow ya to the edge of the earth if i have to."

you're still crying at this point, and atsumu's words are only making you more upset. "why?! why are you so fixated on me?! why can't you just-"

"because i'm in love with ya!"

in that moment, you swear the rain stops in its place, suspended in the air. surely, you must've been hearing things wrong. atsumu miya, the guy who has everyone dancing to the tune of his hand, is- no that doesn't even sound right. how could he possibly-

"god, i've been in love with ya for so long." atsumu laughs, like it's a relief to finally get it off his chest. "but ya nearly ripped my heart to shreds over these past two weeks."

atsumu squeezes your hand before letting it fall to your side. his own flex by his side as if to hold himself back. "(y/n), ya can insult me to yer heart's content if that's what makes ya happy, but don't dodge me like i'm the damn plague. i hate it. i really do."

atsumu picks up his tear-filled eyes; it makes your own fall even faster because you realize that this hurts him. you want to apologize, but the words are backed up in your throat. your cries steal away your ability to speak.

so you pull him in, yanking him by the drenched fabric of his hoodie and closing the distance between you two. your lips crash onto his, praying that this action is enough for him to understand. it takes a moment for atsumu to react, he's unmoving against you, and once he realizes what's happening, he relaxes. his hands fly to your neck, resting one on either side as he kisses you back.

it's carnivorous. he kisses you like he's been deprived of you. you feel how badly atsumu's been wanting this, how long he's been waiting for this day. you can barely keep up with his hunger. it's hot enough to overpower the chill that comes with the rain beating down on both of you. you'd kiss him forever if you could, but your lungs are begging for air.

when you pull away, atsumu's eyes reveal that he's in a daze, a happy one, like he just came back from soaring through the clouds. his damp hair presses onto your forehead as you both catch your breaths.

he pulls back. atsumu wears a soft grin as he admires you, even though you probably look like a wet dog. one of his hands find their way up to your cheek. you look at him expectantly. "(y/n), i want all of ya. i want yer stubborn ass attitude and yer insults. i want ya to be the only person who can bring me back down to earth. i want yer smiles and all yer laughs. i want to continue lovin' ya." he professes with complete certainty. his flowery words make you beam so brightly that it makes your cheeks hurt.

"i'll give you all of that and more." you swear. "but miya, i need you to kiss me again."

"oh? it seems like i got myself a needy princess." atsumu smirks, but he's already leaning in.

"shut up."

"gladly." atsumu agrees, pressing his lips to yours, smiles on both your faces.

you catch the flu the day after, and so does atsumu. but man, it is so, so worth it.

[noctiva]

Flesh + Blood

toby rogers x f!reader [NSFW!]

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WC: 10.1k

Summary: toby usually tries to keep the more violent aspects of his life out of your line of sight, but after a mission gone awry you get a taste of his true self. literally.

CW: 18+ content, filthy dirty nasty shit, descriptions of violence and gore, rough handling, masochistic tendencies + just masochism in general, heavy sadism, biting, blood kink!!!, marking, dead dove don’t come at me, explicit sexual content, unsafe sex, creampie, hair pulling, degradation but also praise (kinky ver. of hurt/comfort), rough oral sex, dirty talk, dacryphilia, CNC if you squint, toby being mean in a hot way, reader is a fuhREAK

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

[also, if you can speak german I’m sorry lmao I used google translate ε-(´∀｀; ) if you can’t speak it just highlight then hit translate!]

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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You had known Toby had a bad day before he even walked through the door.

The morning, had been like any other. Your boyfriend waking you up with soft, sleepy kisses against your neck, your limbs tangled with his beneath the covers. His soft hair tickled your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin as the morning sun shone through the window of the cabin you called home.

"Gotta g-go out today." He had murmured, voice thick with sleep and gravelly - his stubble scratching gently against your jaw. "Boss's orders."

His hands had slid up your body, under the loose t-shirt you had worn to bed - his calloused palms a soothing abrasiveness that quickly smoothed over any disgruntled thoughts about him leaving for the day. Up your stomach, over your ribs, resting just under the swell of your breast to feel your heart beat beneath his touch. "Don't worry, it's an e-easy job. Should only be gone f-for an hour or two."

You had reached up, threading your fingers through his messy, chestnut brown hair - knotted with bedhead, but still so soft as the strands slipped through the gaps. You nodded softly, pulling him in closer, murmuring a gentle 'be safe' next to his ear before pressing a kiss to the lobe.

And Toby had laughed, a sweet, honey-like sound before he lifted his head to look at you proper through his half-lidded eyes. "You-You're sayin' that t-to me?" He had chuckled, a cocky, yet boyish grin stretching across his lips.

God, that smile. It did something to you every single time. How his eyes crinkled up at the corners, and that one dimple that sunk into his unmarred cheek. His teeth, crooked and chipped from too many blows to the face, had a unique quality to them that left you charmed. Every imperfection on Toby, was perfection to you. Even the left half of his face, mangled and scarred, flesh torn from gums to leave his back molars on display at all times.

Grotesque, to most, but to you it was simply captivating. Just another special quirk in the sea of things that made up the man you loved. "You fuh- forget who you're t-talkin' to?" He had chastised you lightly, raising an eyebrow. "Baby, I am the danger. You- You know that."

You did know. But it was so easy to forget, when he was so sweet on you.

"Yeah, I know." You had hummed back to him. "I just forget sometimes, because you're so nice to me."

A little snort of a laugh left Toby, and he rolled his eyes, just before leaning down again to press a gentle kiss between your eyebrows.

"Remind me to j-jog your memory sometime." He had huffed softly. "I'm p-plenty scary."

That had been at just past eleven this morning, and now as you stood in the kitchen - with one of Toby's shirts hanging oversized over your body - it was nearly six. The mid-October sun has already started dipping under the horizon line, filtering in streaks of pink and gold through the window while you busied yourself.

If you didn't, you knew you'd just start to worry - despite the fact that you knew Toby would just make fun of you for doing so.

A paring knife in your hands, you were peeling potatoes whilst humming softly to yourself, a pot of stew simmering on the stove next to you. If he had been out this long, you were sure he must've worked up an appetite, and needed something warm to ward off the chill accumulated in his bones.

Besides, you liked doting on Toby. Liked to see the way his eyes shone when you did something for him just out of the good or your heart - because you loved him. You wanted him to always know that fact, never doubt the love you kept harboured in your heart just for him and him alone. It was more little gestures than big ones; scrubbing bloodstains out of his clothes and patching up holes, tending to wounds he didn't notice he acquired, or cooking dinner like right now.

None of these things felt like chores, they were almost therapeutic. And so as you stood by the stove, chopping potatoes into little cubes, you were blissfully calm despite your boyfriend's extended absence. The television was on in the living room, playing some old rerun movie you had only picked for background noise. The fireplace below it crackled, though it was dying because it had been a little too long since you had thrown in a new log.

Was this domestic bliss? It sure felt like it. Maybe as close to it as you would come, with a literal axe murderer as your chosen partner.

And like a tulpa born straight from your thoughts, the moment your mind wandered back to Toby - the man himself was making an entrance like a freight train.

The front door burst open, so quickly slicing through the soft and cozy atmosphere you had been shrouded in. You couldn't see him, not yet, because the entryway to your home was behind a rounded corner - but you should sure as hell hear him.

The door creaking before it slammed shut. Heavy boots knocking against wood floor. The metallic clang of something hitting the ground (presumably his hatchets), and soft grumbled curses spilling from his lips.

You had been right. You knew there was something off about today.

"Toby?" You call to him, your voice soft and gentle. Not wanting to poke the bear even more than it already had been. Setting the knife down on the cutting board, you quickly shut off the stove and move the pot to a cold burner. Then, with your feet moving faster than your mind was, you make your way out of the kitchen and through the living room. "Are you o-"

The words die on your tongue the moment you round the corner. Now, you were well aware of what Toby did when he left home. Though he hid the gory details from you more often than not, his stained clothes were all of the confirmation you really needed. He was a killer, a good one at that, judging from the little snippets of what he had told you.

But right now, he looked like more than that. He looked like a butcher.

The amount of blood almost didn't look real. Like something out of some gorefest slasher film rather than the authentic remains of a real human being. Toby was coated in it. It was matting in his hair, smeared across the goggles that were pushed up onto his forehead. It was clinging to his eyelashes, dripping down his cheeks and off of his chin. His sweater was drenched, splattered with crimson and torn at the hems - like the fabric had been snagged by the forest brush as he trudged through it.

There was a handprint on his chest, just below his shoulder - smeared and frantic, like someone had been trying to shove him off of them, clawing at the fabric in vain.

Then your eyes trail up again, and god. The look in his eyes.. Dark, somehow both simultaneously dead hollow and wildly crazed. It was almost hard to believe this was the same man who had left the house this morning.

"B-Bitch got away." Snapping you out of your stunned stupor, is Toby's voice - gravelly and strained, sounding almost like he had spent the last hour just screaming his lungs out. You blink a few times, feeling as though his very presence has given you whiplash, before squeaking out;

"What?" Your gaze drops down, eyeing the pool of red accumulating beneath his boots, and you have to ask yourself if at least some of it is his, because there's just so much. Also, you're suddenly very happy you chose hardwood over carpets.

"She- fuck! -She got a-away." Toby repeats himself, his shoulders jerking as an involuntary tic wracks his body. You could hear his joints crack and pop as it happened, a noise that you really never got used to, no matter how much you loved him. He takes a step closer, then another, his boots producing a sickening squelch against the floor. "I fuh- fuckin' gutted her like a damn fish, and she g-got away!"

He's looking down at you, wild eyes glinting in the low light of the entryway, and you can't help but shrink a little. You had never seen him like this. Bloodied and bruised, sure, but never drenched in it - body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he recounted what he had done in graphic detail. "Cut her from here-" He poked your belly button through your shirt with a stained finger, the touch making your whole body tense up. "Up to 'er tits, a-and she still got away. F-Fuckin' scooping up her own guts with her hands as she ran." You look up to meet his eyes, and he's already staring dead straight into yours. "C-Can you believe that?"

He goes silent, looking at you expectantly, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he's actually waiting for an answer. You give him a small, jerky shake of your head, and clear your throat.

"No." You manage out, your voice coming out much softer and shakier than you had meant it to. "That... That doesn't make any sense."

Toby lets out a bark of a laugh, hollow and dry - nothing like the warm and soft chuckle that had graced your ears just this morning. It's a chilling sound, almost maniacal in the way he takes in a wheezing breath afterwards, his head tilting backwards as a warped version of a smile stretches across his lips.

"Yeah, n-no shit." He snorts, before stepping around you and stalking into the living room. You follow, because what the hell else are you supposed to do, collecting blood on the soles of your socked feet as you adhere to the gruesome trail he leaves behind. Toby, pays no mind to any of the mess he's creating, too caught up in his own tumultuous mind to realize that it's starting to look like the murder (or, attempted one, you guess) played out here. "Her friends were easy, maybe t-too easy, but I had expected that! S-She wanted to act like she was t-the fuckin' final girl."

He shrugged off the coat he had been wearing over top of his hoodie, the material falling to the ground with a heavy thump before he started trudging over to the couch. You have to bite your tongue. God, was he going to stain that too? "B-But it might be my fault. The first two were so a-agonizingly easy. So buh-boring. Wanted to have a bit of fun with the last one." He flopped back against the couch and, yup, now your sofa is now smeared with blood as well. "Shoulda just lodged my axe between 'er f-fuckin' eyes."

Something about the way he's speaking, so detached from the acts he committed, made your blood run ice cold in your veins. There's a pit in your stomach, and your chest feels tight every time you take in a quivering breath.

His eyes lift to meet yours from where he's sitting on the sofa, and that's when you realize it.

You're scared of him.

Your palms feel clammy, your heart thudding so hard in your chest that it feels like it's bruising your ribs from the inside. You were scared of him. Of Toby. Never, not once in the years you had been by his side, had you ever felt fear run through your veins while in his presence.

Not when you wiped a few little speckles of blood from his face, not when you sat beside him outside as he sharpened his hatchets, not even on one of his bad days when he would get snappy and snide with you.

But right now? Oh, there was no denying the feeling swirling through your veins like a toxin. You were damn near petrified, and oddly - it was exhilarating.

It was hard to explain exactly what avenue your mind went down, but you were pretty sure it went a little something like this: Toby was always so sweet to you, almost sickeningly so, barely letting you get more than a peek into what he did when those orange goggles of his came down over his eyes. He was hardly ever harsh with you, like you were an angel, and he was scared to sully your spotless white wings with his stained hands. Right now, as he sat before you, eyes cold and his skin growing sticky with drying blood, he was the exact opposite of that. Finally, finally, letting you see every part of who he really is, right down to the gory details.

It made something in you stir. Excitement? Awe? You weren't quite sure. All you knew was that the lead in your stomach was moulding into butterflies.

"Well, she's got to be dead." You murmur, approaching him slowly, eyes locked on him as he settles into the couch - legs spread and his head tilting back against the cushions. Fuck. Were you crazy? Why has he never looked hotter? "If what you said is true, she probably didn't make it far before collapsing. Probably died from blood loss, or shock."

You come to stand before him, right between his knees, and the way he stares up at you has your own nearly buckling under the weight of his gaze. "There's no way she lived."

"Y-You'd think, right?" He hums back to you, his voice low as he leans forwards and rests his elbows on his thighs. "And yet I never found her f-fuckin' corpse. She got away after s-socking me in the nose and I just... Never saw her again. Combed that forest for hours." He reached up, pointing a finger at you. "And you know. You know t-that I know those woods like the b-back of my hand. I looked everywhere." You swallow thickly. "Nothin'. No corpse, no blood trail to lead me to her. The bitch went g-ghost."

"She's dead, Toby. She's got to be. There's just no way." You reassure him. Then, slowly, you sink downwards, folding into a kneel on the ground between his thighs. Wanting to be eye-level, but also, wanting to be closer. Despite the blood - because of the blood - you weren't sure. Your mind was a tangled mix of emotions, and all of them were volatile. Toby watches you, his eyes unreadable as his gaze tracks you moving downwards in his line of sight. "I'm sure you got her."

"Yeah, well." He had noticed your shift in demeanour immediately. Through his clouded mind, there was a shred of guilt that had been prodding at him when he caught sight of the fear in your eyes - so sweet and lovely compared to him, like a scared little rabbit cowering before a pack wolf. It was still there, that anxiety, but it was bordered with something else. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. Or maybe, something he just didn't think was plausible. "I-It's not a job done unless there's a-a body to show for it." He reaches up, wiping away some of the blood that had begun to drip into his eye, smearing it across his skin in consequence. Your heart leaps. "Brian and Tim are pissed. T-Told 'em I could do this one on my own and look what h-happened."

“Well it’s not your fault.” You breathe back to him, holding his gaze as you place a reassuring hand on his knee - looking up at him through your eyelashes. “How were you supposed to know she would practically be immortal?”

Toby laughs dryly and shakes his head, watching you for a moment before he reaches down and pinches your chin between his fingers. You can feel it as the blood smears against your face, and you can smell it - sickly metallic, almost sour. It made your stomach churn.

“Not immortal, just way t-too determined.” His thumb smooths against your cheek, dark brown eyes watching with interest at the stark red mark he leaves against your soft skin. Pretty. He thinks to himself. Real fucking pretty. He really can’t help it when he tightens his grip a little bit, just to feel how soft you are. How fragile you are.

Your eyes widen minutely, and he lets out a soft hum before dragging his hand up the side of your face - painting the canvas that was his pretty girl’s skin. Might even be prettier if it was your own blood. It takes a lot of willpower on his end to squash that thought down.

Toby would never hurt you, he had sworn that to himself on the first day you had met eyes, but he’d be damned if he said he didn’t think about it sometimes. About how your eyes may look, glassy with tears while your face scrunches up in agony. What specific shade of red your blood is. How it tastes. Smells. How it would look smeared across your perfect tits.

Leaving scarlet handprints on your ass, hips, neck, all just to lick you clean afterwards.

He wouldn’t though. He couldn’t. You were far too lovely for that. Far too gentle to be tainted by the likes of someone like him. It was a miracle you hadn’t been already.

It was getting a little difficult to restrain himself though, when you were kneeled before him looking like something pulled straight from a wet dream. So decadently pure, with trails of his sin streaked across your face.

He could fucking eat you whole if you’d let him.

“Toby?” Your voice, soft like spun silk, pulls his thoughts out of the depravity they had been falling into. He tears his eyes away from where his hand met your cheek, and sinks into your irises instead - which might just be a more dangerous route. Wide, like a deer in the headlights you look up at him, with a slight tremble to your bottom lip that makes his stomach feel hot. Makes his whole body feel hot, like you had set him alight with one look.

He doesn’t respond at first, instead just holding your gaze as his hand slips down. Then his eyes are flickering towards the sight of his fingers instead as he presses his thumb to your bottom lip. He swipes across it, smearing blood on your lip like some grotesque form of lipstick - his breathing stuttering when you’re left with the most decadent shade of red against the soft plushness.

“P-Pretty.” Toby can’t stop himself from saying, his voice just above a whisper. As if in a trance, he pushes his thumb past your lips without a second thought, hooking into your jaw and prying your mouth open. You sputter, face immediately scrunching up at the action.

You can taste it, the blood. Somebody else’s blood, drained from some poor victim Toby had incapacitated. It was pungently metallic, just a tad bitter, and it immediately made your stomach twist when it hit your tastebuds. With eyebrows furrowed you pull away from him, watching how a pink-tinged line of spit connects your mouth to his finger before it breaks.

You spit onto the floor beside you, not caring about the mess because there was already so much to clean up. You just needed the taste out of your mouth. Toby though, he had other plans.

There’s still drool dribbling down your chin when his hand seizes your jaw again, tilting your head back to look at him with a force that made goosebumps prickle your skin. “You d-don’t like it?” He asks as he leans forwards a little, wild eyes boring into yours. His fingers dig into your jaw, with a strength he’s never shown on you before, and suddenly you’re wondering just how much he’s been holding back all of this time.

You shake your head once, before clearing your throat.

“Don’t like the taste.” You murmur, trying to ignore the fact that your body was so easily conceding to him. Scared, but still so willing, still so eager. You could feel your skin heating up more and more with each second that ticked by.

Why? You should be pushing him away, right? Shoving him towards the shower and throwing his bloody clothes in the wash. For some reason though, you just couldn’t. You were disgusted by the taste on your tongue, shaking where you kneeled because of the man before you, and yet you couldn’t force yourself to move. Not even out of fear anymore, out of something worse. Something sick and twisted that had been sleeping for a long time, now clawing its way to the surface with jagged nails.

“No?” Toby presses his fingers to your lips again, this time his pointer and middle finger both - watching you with an intensity that made you squeeze your thighs together. You knew what he was doing. He was testing you. Seeing whether you’d take the bait and give in, or stick to your morals and shove him away for the second time.

Right then, you remember what he had said to you earlier that day. ‘Remind me to jog your memory sometime. I’m plenty scary.’

You wanted more proof of that.

And so you meet his eyes, then slowly part your lips. His pupils practically swallow his irises whole, eyes going damn near black before he’s slipping his blood soaked fingers into your mouth.

Again, you get the acrid taste or blood on your tongue, and it makes your stomach turn just like it did the first time. But you don’t push him off this time, you let him push further, further - until you’re gagging when the tips of his fingers hit the back of your throat. “Lügnerin.” He murmurs darkly, watching with a keen interest as you sputter on his fingers - drool pooling at the corners of your lips. “You d-do like it.”

You whimper around the digits, a sound that even you would admit was pathetic, and it just makes Toby’s lips twist into a wicked grin. The rasp of his mother tongue always did something to you, he knew that and he found it so adorable how you just melted for him when he spoke it - even if you didn’t have the slightest clue what he was saying.

This was just like - no, better than - his wildest dreams. You looked so pretty and pitiful. His sweet girl. His angel. Kneeling before him, just begging to be ruined.

How could he ever deny you? “Y-You’re not as innocent as I thought, huh?” He taps his fingers against your tongue, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Lick ‘em clean.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment you completely freeze up - aghast by the command he’d just given you. You couldn’t deny how the low drawl of his voice sent tingles straight down to your gut, leaving you shifting where you sat before him. It was a humiliating thing to realize, but the evidence was there, already dampening your panties.

You were incredibly turned on.

You breathe in a breath through your nose, before closing your lips around his fingers - suctioning to them as you began to gently suck. It was filthy. Your mouth coated with a metallic tang, your tongue scrubbing against his rough callouses. It nearly made you gag, and yet you didn’t stop, you kept going - swirling your tongue around the digits until they were spotless, and you were releasing them with a soft ‘pop’.

“Scheiße..” Toby breathes out, his voice rougher than before as he stares down at you. At his two fingers, now starkly cleaner than the rest of his hand. Your lips are stained even more now, and it’s smeared across your chin and cheek, making you look like such a bloody little mess for him. If you let him go this far, you’d let him push more, right?

He wanted you coated in it. Wanted some of it to be your own. Needed to see what face you made when he broke skin. He knew it would be lovely, every part of you was. “S-Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmurs, reaching out to cup the side of your face and squeezing softly. “You really d-do like this.” Toby’s voice sounds almost awestruck, and for good reason. Who would’ve ever guessed you wouldn’t mind, scratch that, you liked seeing him like this? A lot more than you were saying, if the way you keep squirming was anything to go by.

Were you already wet? Dripping slick into your panties just from sucking blood off of his hand? His heart thuds like a drum beat in his chest, and he could feel his cock stir in his jeans just from the thought alone. How much could he push you? Just how far would you let him go?

Hell, even if you stopped him here he thinks he’d be satisfied, because what he had just witnessed was prime jerk off material for fucking years to come - but he couldn’t help but want to push his luck, and see how much he could get from you. “You like s-seeing me like this?” He asks softly. “Like seeing proof of w-what I do?”

His hand trails downwards, tracing the line of your jaw before circling your throat. Not squeezing, just resting there, making its presence known. “Makes y-you realize just how fuh-fuckin’ nice I am to you, hm? C-Could kill you so easy i-if I really wanted to.” Now he squeezes, a gentle yet firm pressure against your throat that has your pulse kicking up a notch. “You’d be d-dead before you even knew w-what happened, baby.”

He tightens his grip a little, enough for you to really feel it, and your breathing stutters because it’s already getting hard to breathe and you know he’s still holding back by a lot. “Or maybe, I’d go slow. J-Just to hear your pretty screams.”

He leans down, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fan against your face, and then he’s asking; “Would you l-let me?” It’s a question that has your heart rate spiking, making goosebumps rise over the entire surface of your skin. It’s enough to render you speechless, and so when you don’t respond, he continues. “Would you let me h-hurt you? I’d never really k-kill you, darlin’. Just wanna see you b-bleed.”

And, fuck. Fuck. Those words seemed to be armed with the intention to go straight to your cunt, and that’s exactly what they do. You can feel it as you just grow wetter, your neglected clit throbbing within the confines of your panties. It was a thin pair, something lacy and sheer (just how Toby liked them) but they still felt like too much. Restrictive. Irritating in the way they were a barrier between you and his bare touch.

Had you always been this much of a freak? Maybe. Maybe that’s why you looked past Toby’s profession so easily. Secretly indulging in the thrill, the danger of sharing a bed with someone like him.

Someone who, as he had just made clear, could end your life on a moment’s notice if he really wanted to. The constant uncertainty of another promised day, the silent wonder of if he’d ever snap on you instead.

You had been wanting this. You just hadn’t fully known it until it was staring you right in the face.

“Yeah.” You end up choking out, the last remnants of your self-respect completely flying out the window. If he wouldn’t actually kill you, maybe this was the safest way to dive into the dark desires growing within you. Maybe you wanted to experience every last thing he had been holding back over the years. What would he do to you? What had he been fantasizing about, unbeknownst to you? The uncertainty of it all, is what was making your blood hot. “If… If you really want to.”

“Oh, I want t-to.” Toby murmured softly as he drags his hand back up to your face, before sliding behind your head and pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. Closer to the crotch of his jeans, which - you had noticed but not commented on - had grown a tent in it since you had begun speaking. He really was into this just as much as you were. You suppose that shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. “D-Do you know?” Closer he draws you in, until your chin is brushing against his fly. “Do you know how many t-times I’ve thought about it? D-Dreamt about it? You screaming for me? Really screaming?”

You swallow down a lump in your throat, and you’re still trembling. Haven’t stopped, ever since you knelt before him. It was intoxicating, how he set your mind and body alight. “Y-You’re just so p-precious. So sweet to me. I never wanted to actually d-do it…” His fingers curl into your hair, gripping the strands tight enough for you to wince. “But if you’re asking me to? I won’t want to stop until you’re b-begging. And even then, I-I might not.”

You might just fucking drool from that warning alone. God, how had you not known he had been restraining himself so heavily around you? You had thought it was in his nature to be gentle and sweet, the acts he committed for the entity he served just being something he had to do. But no. He had been craving this for longer than you could imagine. Probably since the first day you met. Had he always viewed you as prey? “Y-You really want that? I don’t wanna buh-break you.”

He smiles, an expression so sweet it almost feels uncanny for the circumstances. “I love you t-too much for that.”

“I want it.” You say before you can really mill over the thought, pure impulse taking over - the craving too strong. “I want it, Toby. I do.”

He hums softly, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them as he looks you over. You wonder what you look like from his point of view. Bloodied, begging, just centimetres away from his clothed cock. Probably like a feast, and his eyes were flickering like he was just itching to dig in.

“D-Du spielst ein gefährliches spiel, meine Liebe.” And it doesn’t even matter that you don’t know what he’s saying, you can just tell it’s a warning. By the look on his face, how his grip on you tightens to the point of near painful. You know it’s just a taste. He could give you so much more. “Prove it th-then.” He hums softly, finally releasing his hold on you in favour of settling back into the couch cushions once more. He crosses his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow as he watches you with an expectant gaze. “Prove that y-you want it, and maybe I-I’ll humour you.”

It was the nonchalance that had you squirming, it was what had your heart racing from the moment you stepped through the door. He wanted this just as much as you did - hell, definitely more than you did - and yet he wasn’t easily cracking like you would’ve expected. It was like he enjoyed the performance of it all, the joy of seeing you sink lower and lower all just to please him. Having his favourite girl beg on her knees for him to paint her crimson? Now isn’t that just a treat.

It takes a moment for you to will your body to move, feeling paralyzed by the sheer potency of dominance radiating off of him. Toby had always been a bit on the commanding side with you in the bedroom, but in a more gentle way.

‘I know you c-can do it for me’.

‘You look so puh-pretty on your knees. Stay just like th-that, okay?”

‘Just a l-little more. You feel so good.”

Tender coaxing. Husky words of encouragement and soft touches to move you how he wanted. You’re realizing though, that may have been a watered down version of how he really wanted to treat you.

You move slowly, your shaking hands raising from your lap to reach for his belt buckle instead. His hips twitch at the action. Eager. Impatient. Your eyes lift to meet his as you start to pull his belt loose, and you feel it as goosebumps raise on the back of your neck - sparking up a chill that travelled all the way down your spine.

Toby was watching you like a hawk, like a predator, tracking each and every movement of yours with a keen interest. It was chilling, really, but the fear just went straight to your core. His belt comes undone, and you don’t even bother pulling it from the loops before you’re popping the button of his jeans.

The fire has died out by now, and the movie you had been playing had finished the ending credits, so it was incredibly silent in the room with him. So much so, that you could hear his every breath. The sound of his zipper being pulled down sounds so incredibly loud. “D-Du bist ein k-krankes kleines ding, nicht wahr?” He’s murmuring right as you’re beginning to tug his briefs down his narrow hips, and he’s normally so cold to the touch - but he’s burning up beneath you right now. “C-Come home c-covered in filth and you j-just drop straight to your knees.”

His cock springs free just inches from your face, and you can’t help but gasp softly. You always felt like you had been blessed when it came to what your boyfriend was endowed with. Long, but not enough to hurt. Thick enough to really feel the stretch. Curved just the right amount, with a vein running up the side and flushed pink at the tip. “Schlampe.” Toby mutters under his breath, right as you feel your mouth start to water.

And you know what that word means. Your eyes dart back up to him immediately, face flushing a deep shade of pink - so perfectly complimenting the blood smeared across your skin.

“I’m not.” You murmur softly as your eyebrows scrunch together, but you close a fist around the base of his length anyway. You hear it when his breathing stutters, and you feel it when his cock jumps at the touch.

“I-I’m not convinced.” He snorts, his eyelids drooping as you pull your hand away to spit into your palm, before returning it to him nice and lubed up. He’s so warm in your hand, already so hard you can feel him throb against your palm. His words make your ears burn, because you know that you’re just proving him right as you lean your head down to lick at the tip.

Toby’s eyes flutter, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest as you flatten your tongue against him - lapping up all the salty precum that he had already accumulated. God, he tasted good, he always did. Always left you craving more. “D-Du bist eine d-dreckige schlampe.” You’re circling your lips around the head of his cock. “Ich wusste es.”

He’s being mean and you know it, but it just makes you burn hotter as you sink your mouth down onto his length. The drawl to his voice, low and sultry as he spits germanic insults down at you - you can’t help but moan around him as you try to take in more. He’s bumping against the constrictive muscles of your throat, but you can take him if you really put your mind to it. You’ve done it before.

You’re trying to get your throat to relax, breathing in through your nose and getting comfortable - when you suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head. It’s sticky, smearing blood into your soft hair, and then it’s pushing you down.

Immediately your eyes blow open wide as you’re shoved down onto his cock, your throat burning and hot tears immediately springing to your eyes. You gag around him, fingers flying down to dig into his thighs. Your gaze darts up towards him, equal parts bewildered and frantic as you try and blink back the tears. “You were t-taking too long.” He chuckles, his grin wicked and lacking any semblance of remorse. His fingers curl into a fist in your hair, gripping the strands with enough force to make your scalp burn as he pushes you down further - until your nose is bumping against his pelvis. “You wanted this, baby. D-Don’t forget that.”

You can barely breathe, your throat practically convulsing around him as it tries and fails to adjust to the intrusion. Tears cling to your eyelashes before they’re dripping down and landing against Toby’s skin. “Ich liebe es, wenn du weinst.” Even if you squirmed you couldn’t try and get away, the strength of which he’s pushing you down being something you could only dream to fight against. “D-Du siehst so hübsch aus.”

Then he’s yanking you back upwards until just the tip remains between your lips, giving you a second to take in a few gasping breaths through your nose. You try to fill your lungs as much as you can, but it still doesn’t feel like enough when he pulling you down onto him again.

He keeps like that, grip tight on your hair as he bobs your head up and down on his cock, making you taking him to the base each and every time. Your throat feels raw, your ears are fucking ringing, and you can’t see a damn thing through the tears blurring your vision. He’s merciless with it, only giving you seconds at a time to greedily take in air before he’s filling up your throat again.

And yet somehow, you don’t think you’ve ever gotten wetter. Your pussy is throbbing, soaking through your panties and making the fabric cling to your folds. Rubbing your thighs together isn’t even helping, you’re so worked up that it’s nowhere near enough to placate you.

So, as Toby switches to holding your head in place as he bucks his hips up into your drooling mouth, you snake a hand down between your own legs.

Toby, of course, tracks the movement immediately. “Oh, poor baby.” He drawls, his tone dripping with mockery and oh so cruel. “Pussy’s g-gettin’ wet because I’m t-treating you like a wh-whore?” He huffs out, fucking up into your mouth with more vigour and making you let out a strangled whimper. “Du bist so erbärmlich. It’s c-cute.”

You whine around his cock as your fingers slip into your panties, and you waste no time finding your clit and rubbing tight circles against the slick nub. A moan leaves you immediately, vibrating through Toby’s length. He hisses out a curse, his hips stuttering a little at the sensation.

You looked so lovely. Lips stretched around his cock, drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Tears streaking your blood smeared skin. Your face flushed a pretty pink shade as you touch yourself almost frantically, brows pinched together in pleasure. It was an image that Toby was sure would be burned into the back of his eyelids for a long time to come.

You were just perfect.

His breathing has grown ragged, heavy huffs of breath leaving his lips each time he fucks deep into your throat. With a hand on each side of your head, your hearing is muffled - the echo chamber of your skull filled with nothing but the obscene ‘schlick, schlick’ of his dick dragging against your tongue.

You’re such a mess that it’s pitiful. There’s a growing pool of your liquids accumulating at the base of his cock and dripping between his thighs - your drool, tears, and even a bit of snot from how brutally he’s been treating your poor face. It’s so filthy, as is the slurping sound you make everytime his length leaves your mouth.

Your fingers pick up the pace - faster, more pressure - chasing the heat brewing low in your gut. Your thighs are shaking, knees aching from kneeling against the hardwood flooring, and it’s so good. So good that you can barely even think anymore, your brain reduced to a puddle of thoughtless mush that sloshed around with each buck of his hips.

Your body feels like it’s on fire. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before - just a bundle of desperation and need. Shaking from discomfort with an aching jaw, and yet it’s exactly where you wanted to be.

Then suddenly, you’re yanked off of his cock, which hits his stomach with a wet slap. And you’re blinking up at him, fingers stilling as you silently question him on why on earth he’s stopping. You could keep going for hours if he wanted you to, the aches and pains just something that fuelled your desire even more. “G-Get up here.” He huffs out, reaching down to grab at you before you can even process what he’s said. “Ich muss d-dich spüren.”

Your legs are shaky and sore when you rise, but lucky for you, you’re not standing for long. Toby tugs you onto his lap without hesitation, impatient hands clawing at the fabric of the loose shorts hugging your hips. “Ich werde dich zum Schreien b-bringen.” You shift, making it easier for him to tug the shorts off of you along with your soaked panties. With how he’s being, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just ripped them off if you didn’t. “Ich werde dich z-zum Weinen bringen.”

He slides a hand between your legs, a soft growl rumbling from his chest when he feels just how slick and ready you are for him already. “You’re fuh-fuckin’ dripping.” He hisses out, giving no warning before sliding two fingers (the ones you had already sucked clean) into your leaking cunt. You gasp, your pussy fluttering around the digits at the sudden intrusion - hands flying up to grip at the bloodied fabric of his hoodie.

He’s far from gentle, just like how he warned you he’d be, but at least he was stretching you out a little bit. Pumping his fingers into you, curling them in the way he knows you like. Scissoring them wide, impatiently getting you ready to take him all.

And with how you had already gotten yourself so close, it’s a piece of cake for him to finish the job. You let out a whine, eyes screwing shut as the pads of his fingers rub against your gspot, taking you higher and higher until-

“Toby-“ You moan, your head dropping low to rest against his shoulder, the drying blood feeling cold as it smears against your face. You can feel the knot in your gut tying tighter, and when his thumb comes up to play with your already swollen clit - you know you’re done for. “I can’t- I’m gonna-“

“Y-You gonna cum for me?” He rasps out, just doubling his efforts as your lips part in pleasure. His gaze drops down, catching on the way his thumb smears blood against your folds, and his abandoned cock jumps at the sight. “Wunderschön.” He’s breathless when he speaks, even more so when you start to shake in his hold.

Your hips twitch, thighs tremble, and then you’re melting against him as you cum - pressing your face into his neck as a wave of pleasure washes over you from head to toe. It’s so intense that stars dance behind your eyelids, your breath catching in your throat as you choke out a moan against his skin. “T-That’s it.” Toby murmurs. “Schönes Mädchen.”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering at the loss - but it’s not for long. He grabs you by the waist, tugging you close until you’re positioned right over his leaking cock. “Y-You’re so p-perfect for me.” He murmurs as he reaches down to take hold of himself, swiping the tip through your slick and getting it nice and wet. “Ich liebe dich.”

You know that one too. “I love you more.” You breathe back to him, and then your brows are pinching together as he slowly lowers you down onto him. Even with the small amount of prep he’s given you, it’s still a stretch, making your breathing stutter as you sink down inch by inch - swallowing him up with your sopping wet pussy.

“S-So tight.” He hisses out, grip like a vice on your hips as you take everything he gives you. “F-Fuck, you’re a d-dream.”

You squirm a little once you’re fully seated, your thighs meeting his. He’s pressed right up against your gspot, a constant pressure that sends sparks of pleasure up your spine. He’s so perfect, everything you could ever need and then some. You feel filled to the brim, your walls pulsing around him to the time of your heart beat, eyes glazed over as you raise your head from his neck to look at him.

He smiles. Bloody, crooked, and yet somehow so incredibly charming. Toby gives the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen him produce, as if he wasn’t six inches deep in your blood smeared body. “You look so g-good like this.” He hums, trailing his hands up your sides and bringing your shirt with it, before tugging it off of you completely. Braless, your nipples perk up once they’re exposed to the cold air, and it just makes his grin widen before he’s bringing his palms to your chest.

He kneads the soft flesh, leaving streaks and bloody fingerprints against them, and just like that - he thinks he’s fallen in love all over again. “My girl.” He murmurs as he rolls his hips up, pressing into you more. “My baby.”

Calloused palms slide down the expanse of your abdomen, then settling on your hips again and giving a squeeze. You were so soft. So soft, warm, and pretty. And your pussy - so wet and hot around him, your walls clinging to him like they’ve been molded to the shape of his cock. He could drown in you if you’d let him. “Lettin’ me g-get you all buh-bloody.” He drags against your sensitive core as he pulls you upwards, eyes locked on you face - watching each little change of your expression. “Gonna l-let me give you mo-more? I-Ich möchte dich s-schmecken.”

“More, Toby.” You whimper, voice trembling. Whatever he’s willing to give you, you want. Screaming, crying, breathless - you don’t care. You’ll give it all to him.

“D-Du bist reizend.” He breathes out, just seconds before dropping you onto his length. He fills you up again in such a swift movement it nearly knocks the wind out of you completely, but you don’t even have time to catch your breath. The pace he picks up is just as ruthless as the treatment he had given your throat.

Fast snaps of his hips, deep thrusts, fucking up into you like it’s his only mission in life. It feels like he’s punching the moans out of your lungs, hitting so deep on every stroke that it makes your vision blur around the edges. You can do nothing but take it, your cunt drooling all over him as he bounces you on his lap like a doll.

Toby, is absolutely captivated. You are everything right now. Better than his wildest dreams. The most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Mouth dropped open as you cry out and gasp for breath, skin glistening with sweat and streaks of scarlet. Tits bouncing with each thrust, skin rippling in the most enticing way.

He needs to sink his teeth in, and so he does.

With your eyes squeezed shut from pleasure, you don’t even get a warning before he leans forwards and bites down on your neck. Hard.

Immediately, the pain that blossoms from his teeth is something that has your eyes snapping open - momentarily sobering you up and clearing your mind. When he breaks skin, you scream.

A real, genuine, straight from the soul scream. It’s ripped from you, your cunt tightening around him as your whole body tenses up. The feeling of his blunt teeth biting so hard that they tear skin, is something you don’t think you’ll ever forget. It’s a searing pain. The kind that makes your mouth go dry as all the air leaves your lungs.

Instinctively, you reach your hands up to push at his shoulders to free yourself, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he just bites down harder. Toby moans against you with a mouthful of flesh, snapping his hips up into you harder, his grip tight to keep you right where he wanted you. No amount of struggle or pushback was fazing him. He was so drunk on the taste of you, and the sound of your screams, that every protest was falling on deaf ears.

His jaw finally relaxes, and then he’s pulling away - slowly pulling his teeth from the stark puncture wound now standing out against your previously unmarred neck. He watches as the blood pools in the deepest parts of the wound, then beads up before it drips down - down, over your collarbone, across your chest, sliding down the slope of your breast. Fuck, this is so much better than his dreams.

“Toby-“ You cry as fresh tears well up in your eyes - salty and hot, just like the blood staining Toby’s tongue. Your neck was throbbing, and with how he just kept impaling you on his dick over and over despite your cries, you were beginning to feel a little dizzy. It was a lot for your body to handle, maybe too much. But you’d be damned if you backed down now.

Toby looked feral. You catch his gaze and you swear your heart stops. You’ve seen him in the heat of the moment more times than you could count, but never like this. He looked… Deranged. Absolutely intoxicated by you, and fully sinking into that fact. His pupils were blown wide behind drooping lids, lips smeared with your blood as they stretch into a satisfied smile.

“D-Du schmeckst so s-süß.” His right hand slides downwards, meeting your clit once again with ease. Giving you a few, soothing circles. “I-Ich könnte dich l-lebendig essen.”

Toby seats you back on his dick fully, and then your worldview flips. It’s only once your back hits the couch cushions, that you realize he’s picked you up and pinned you down. “Y-You know how puh-pretty you sound when you scream?” He asks as he shimmies off his jeans fully, staying pressed as deep as possible the entire time. “And those t-tears.. Fuck, y-you’re gorgeous.”

He nuzzles against your neck as he gets comfortable between your legs again, putting a pressure against the bite mark that made you wince. It had just started to settle down from a blinding pain to a dull throb, but it feels like he’s reignited it all over again. “Ich glaube, ich ha-habe vorhin gelogen.” With one hand on your stomach and one on your waist, he’s got your trapped beneath him. “Ich möchte d-dich wirklich b-brechen.”

You feel a tongue against your neck as he begins to rock his hips once more. Gentler this time, finally giving your body a chance to relax. Toby laps up the blood from your neck as he fucks you with slow, shallow strokes, muffling his moans against your skin. Your body arches up into him, your chest meeting his, and you’re gasping right next to his ear. It’s the strangest feeling, having his tongue dip into the pits of the wound he had just made, but the sharp sting is almost welcome. It just feels so… Comforting. Intimate.

Like you’ve never been closer.

Toby pulls his head back, fluffy strands of hair falling against his forehead as he watches you from above. You look like a damn work of art, a sight that makes his breath catch. His gaze travels down to focus on the image of your pretty pussy swallowing him up over and over. Stretching around him. Leaving him glistening with slick everytime he pulled out. Then, his eyes lift, and he’s focusing on the blood smearing your stomach and chest. Higher, his eyes trace the shape of the mark he left on you. Finally, they stop at your face - contorted in pleasure and streaked with tears. “Y-You’re so b-beautiful.” He gasps out, nails sinking into your skin as he starts pulling your body back to meet his thrusts.

Your body shifts and slides against the couch cushions, already damp with sweat and blood. He’s got you taking his whole length again, making sure to bury himself to the hilt on every single stroke - his pelvis bumping against your clit. “I love you.” He moans softly to the melody of his skin hitting yours. His voice is so sweet and gentle, just like in the morning. A reminder that he was still the exact same man.

“I-I love you, Toby.” You choke out, just barely getting the words out between gasps and moans. You were nearing another peak. Could feel it brewing and growing hotter with each snap of Toby’s hips. His hands slip down and around to your ass, large palms splaying against each cheek and keeping you nice and spread open while he gets lost in your heat.

You just barely see it through your hazy vision as he leans down once more, but you notice his lips parting. At least this time, you’re getting a bit of a heads-up.

His teeth meet your skin again, this time your shoulder, and he bites down so quick it takes a moment for the pain to even register. But once it does, it’s even worse than the last one. Again, you yelp, crying and squirming beneath him hopelessly as he sinks his canines deeper into your flesh. Right into the muscle, it feels like, when his jaw locks into you harder.

It’s excruciating. A blinding pain that makes your head feel fuzzy. What you were feeling right now, with Toby latched onto your shoulder while he pounded into you, was something you couldn’t quite understand. Did you hate this, or love it? Did you want to push him away, or draw him in closer? Was it pain or pleasure?

The answer to each question, was a resounding ‘I don’t know’.

Your body seemed to decide before your mind did though, because you find yourself reaching up for him with a trembling hand. Into his hair your fingers thread - not tugging or pulling, just cupping the back of his head. Holding him there as he tears at your flesh. You think you would do the exact same thing even if he started pulling meat from bone.

You feel like you’re melding into him, becoming one as the warmth of your blood drips down into his throat. The pain started to do something funny as he released your shoulder before biting down again just a few inches below. It wasn’t distracting from the pleasure anymore, it was heightening it. Two opposites swirling together to form something new and exhilarating.

Toby notices the moment it happens, feeling how you relaxed so sweetly into his brutal hold. His nails bite into your hips, surely leaving scratches and bruises behind - just a few more marks to add to the collection he’s already given you.

“P-Perfect.” He breathes once he pulls back again, mouth smeared with blood and his teeth stained with it. Toby looked like a rabid beast in your eyes, and you were his willing victim. He wasn’t all violence and ferocity though, you could tell as you looked into his eyes through your blurry vision. His gaze was teeming with nothing but love. A tad obsessive, a little warped, but love nonetheless.

It makes your heart swell. “Y-You’re everything t-to me, you know that?” He tells you softly, rolling his hips deeper as he feels your walls start to flutter around him. Your blood drips down his jaw, glinting in the low light of the living room. You don’t think he’s ever looked more handsome.

Without a thought in your mind, you pull him in with the hand you still have placed on the back of his head - pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss. You can taste your own blood, even more so when he slips his tongue past your parted lips with a groan. It’s sloppy and crude, blood and drool smearing against both of your faces as you drink each other in. “Wenn ich ein b-besserer Mann wäre, würde ich d-dich heiraten.” He gasps against you after pulling away minutely, such filthy noises spilling from his lips and falling straight into yours. “Du verdienst alles.”

Your fingers fist into his hair, now gripping hard enough that you know it would hurt him if he could feel it. But he couldn’t, so you just tug harder as his length slides against your convulsing core.

“Toby-“ You cry in an attempt to warn him of your impending release, but he doesn’t even need you to.

“I-I know, baby. I know.” Toby groans, then leaning in just a little closer again to catch your bottom lip between his teeth. You’re expecting it now before he even spilts it with his canines. You can’t even taste it when blood gushes into your mouth, your tastebuds already completely coated in that metallic tang. “G-Give it to me.” He rasps out once he tears his teeth from the supple flesh.

And you do, you give him everything. One hand pulling his hair until his scalp went raw, and the other one clawing at his bicep - you tumble over the edge for the second time in a flurry of gasps and moans. Your legs lock around his hips, squeezing him tight as your cunt just squeezes harder - pulsing around him, sucking him in like you never wanted to let him go.

You didn’t. You could die like this and be a happy woman. “A-Ah, fuck.” Toby groans out, head dropping low as he fucks into you with even more vigour. Chasing his own release while prolonging yours. With stars in your eyes and ears ringing, your body trembles beneath him as his hips begin to stutter.

And you suppose you should’ve predicted what he did next. Right as you feel him start to throb inside you, he reaches for your hand and yanks it from where it had been gripping his shoulder. Toby seizes your wrist, letting out a gravelly moan just before he presses his lips to your forearm.

Teeth break skin again right as you feel him spill inside you. Hot ropes of his release, pulled in deep by your still convulsing body. Even hotter waves of painful pleasure washing over you like he had cast a spell.

His thrusts go lazy, still pumping into you as his spend gushes out around his softening cock - just adding to the mess you’re already coated in. He pulls out of your body first, then tugs his teeth from your arm second.

When he looks back to you, you feel your joints go gooey. His eyes are so warm and satisfied as he parts his lips, holding your gaze as his tongue darts out to lick at your newest wound. It’s comforting in the strangest way, and it’s the sickest form of sweetness when he’s pressing kisses to it just moments later.

He does that for every single one. Peppering kisses against each tooth shaped indentation, lapping at the blood until you’re left (relatively) clean. Raw, red puncture wounds that had already begun to swell, but each kiss makes the throbbing dull.

“S-Sorry.” He murmurs softly, lips brushing against your sensitive skin. “Y-You don’t even ha-have to say it. I know I-I went too far.”

Your body feels like it’s been drained of all of its energy, weak and sore all over, but you still force yourself to shake your head. Your arms feel like they’re made of lead when you lift them, pain rippling from your neck downwards - but you wrap them around him anyway.

“No you didn’t.” You whisper back, with a throat so raw that your voice comes out hoarse. “I’m alright.”

Toby relaxes a little at your gentle reassurance, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and letting out a shaky sigh.

“Y-You sure?” He asks, just to be certain. You were still trembling, muscles sore and stiff as you held him close. “I-If you hate me now, I wouldn’t buh-blame you.”

You let out a short breath through your nose and shake your head again.

“I could never hate you.”

—————————————————————————☆

the toby brainworms were eating me alive so I started writing this and then just kept writing and writing and ended up with 10k words of pure filth

if my invite request ever gets accepted on ao3 I’ll post it there too but for now this is a tumblr exclusive lols

thanks for reading! ♡

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

help me forget. l Joel Miller

Summary: you broke down and Joel was the only one who could help you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex, two dead bodies, mention of blood, Reader has a crisis, Ellie is in it

A/N: did i add something again? i have another exam on saturday and i'm going through a crisis. sorry for the mistakes, i wanted to write it and add it today.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"I'm sure everything's fine. Something just had to stop them."

Joel tore his eyes from the horizon and looked at Ellie, her fingers gripping the railing, her eyes fixed on the distance.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

He didn't want to show her that he was already nervous. Something was tightening painfully in his gut, you should have been back by now.

He didn't like the idea, but you quickly calmed his thoughts. Tommy, Shane, you and a few other men were going on a three-day trip to a nearby town. Supplies needed to be replenished, and the growing school in Jackson would be happy to accept new equipment. 

If Joel had been nervous up until now, he was like a ticking bomb now. Ellie could see he was worried, she felt the same. The whole group should have been back in the morning, it was getting late and there was no sign of you.

"Go home, kid." he muttered "I'll let you know when they get back."

"No way!" Ellie got offended "I'm going to give her a hard time when she finally shows up."

They fell silent again, staring at the spot where the familiar car should have appeared. Minutes passed, the sun was setting, until finally Ellie shouted "They're coming!" and Joel's heart began to beat faster. 

However, when he finally breathed a sigh of relief, he noticed something disturbing in the approaching vehicle. Something bad had happened...

The gate opened and the entire group entered Jackson. Maria stood by Joel, looking out for his brother, soon her face lit up.

"Tommy! Thank God!" she cried, throwing herself into the arms of the man who got out of the car.

He hugged her tightly, but it was Joel who caught his eye. The lump in his throat grew painfully. His gaze swept over the group, searching for a familiar face, the one he was so worried about, the one he needed to see alive.

"We met another group." Tommy said. "We lost two people..."

Joel's legs almost buckled. But he didn't have time to say anything, not even take a breath when another car door opened and he finally saw you. In a few quick steps he was already by your side, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Only when he let go of you did he notice the already dried cut above your eyebrow, some scratch on your cheek, but you were alive.

But something was wrong. Joel sensed it immediately. Your gaze... Something changed in your eyes.

"What happened? Who did we lose?" Maria asked.

Tommy gave two names and everyone fell silent for a moment. Ellie took advantage of this moment to run up to you and hug you tightly.

"You look terrible." she said "But I'm glad you decided to come back."

"I'm fine..." you replied quietly, stroking her hair "I have something for you." you pulled something out of your belt, which turned out to be a comic book in pretty good shape.

"Oh! Cool!"

Joel noticed his brother's gaze, he clearly wanted to say something, but then he looked at you and seemed a bit confused. He understood him.

"Ellie, take her to the clinic. Let someone see her." he said.

"I'm fine." you replied, but Ellie had already grabbed your hand.

"Come on, you'll tell me everything." she said, pulling you towards the clinic building. Only when you were gone did Tommy finally speak up.

"Six, maybe seven men. We ran into them when we were about to leave the city."

"Riders?" Maria asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Possibly. We'll never know. They started shooting at the car, they wanted to scare us first."

"I hit some wreck." Shane walked up to them, he also had a few scratches on his face, but he was fine, he looked at Joel "I hit it pretty hard. That's how she cut her forehead."

Joel nodded. The cut was a small payment for bringing you back alive.

"We got into a fight. It was really bad." Tommy continued, and Maria folded her arms tighter over her chest "I don't know when we lost our men. It all happened so fast..."

"No one blames you, Tommy." Joel spoke up. His brother looked at him sadly.

"One of them surprised me. We fell to the ground, struggling. I thought..." he took a deep breath "I thought I wouldn't come back."

"I took out two of them before I saw what was happening." Shane continued for him, and then your name tumbled from his lips. "Her gun jammed. One of the guys hit her, but she managed somehow. Then she saw Tommy." 

Joel felt his brother wanted to tell him something, something that wasn't very nice.

"She got to me before Shane. It was a second or two." He looked at Maria "She saved my life. If it wasn't for her... That guy had no chance..."

Maria sighed and took her husband in her arms trying to hide her tears.

Shane leaned slightly towards Joel and added quietly "Listen, talk to her. She's barely spoken since then."

"What happened?" Joel asked, feeling his voice tremble.

Walsh sighed. "He got hit in the ribs and in the neck. A few times. But she... Shit, I had to get her off him."

A familiar image appeared before Joel's eyes, he knew what Shane was talking about, he had seen you like this before. That was the moment when you defended Ellie and yourself. He looked towards the clinic with concern.

"Thanks, Shane." He said. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem, man."

Warm steam was coming out of the bathroom, pleasantly warming the bedroom. It was quite late. Ellie hid in her room, engrossed in the comic book you brought her. You, on the other hand, had already taken a shower and, dressed in clean clothes, were combing your still damp hair.

"You must be tired as hell." Joel put a mug of tea on your nightstand.

"Mhm..."

You didn't say much and you barely ate dinner, which worried him, but he thought that maybe once you went to bed you'd feel better. Joel took a quick shower and when he came back to the room he saw that you were already lying under the covers.

Tiredness must have won, because your breathing was already steady and calm. The bed creaked quietly as Joel lay down behind you, hugged you and snuggled into your back, kissing your shoulder. Tomorrow will be a new day. He would talk to you, and you would feel better. For sure.

You weren't in his arms. The space next to him was empty and cold. Joel rubbed his eyes and looked around the dark room. Only after a moment did he notice the faint light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He hesitantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked in a hoarse voice, knocking quietly.

Nothing. Silence. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He knocked again.

"Are you there? Can I come in?"

Something hit the floor and rolled across it. Joel no longer hesitated, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. You were sitting against the wall with your knees pulled up to your chest, your eyes puffy from tears. You had to try to get up, but you clumsily threw the cup with toothbrushes on the floor and it was the one that made the noise.

"Sweetheart..."

He quickly knelt down next to you, took your face in his hands. Your cheeks were wet from tears, single strands of hair stuck to your face.

"How long have you been here? Come back with me, honey..."

"I-I can't come back...." your voice was shaking. Joel didn't understand what you said. His heart was breaking when he looked at you like that. "I can't, I can't Joel."

"Of course you can. I'll help you, you know that. You're not alone in this."

Your eyes were glazed with tears, you took a breath through trembling lips. "I did it again... Again. When I saw this guy on Tommy, he wanted to kill him, and I..."

"And you saved him." Joel interrupted you. "You saved Tommy. You saved my brother's life."

"You didn't see it! There was so much blood everywhere..."

"But I see you! And I know you. You did what you had to."

You stared at him with pity. Joel didn't understand anything. He wasn't there with you, he wasn't you. That moment when you lost control, when you acted on instinct, when your dark side took over, and the knife you had in your hand entered the body of that man smoothly. You woke up feeling like you could feel his warm blood on your hands again. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"I'm not safe, Joel. I'm not safe for you and Ellie." your voice became automatic, as if you were saying a memorized line "What if I do the same to you? I snapped! I snapped and lost control and..."

"You were saving Tommy, for God's sake!" strong hands grabbed your shoulders and Joel gently shook you to come to your senses "When I met you, you were already protecting Ellie. I know you would never hurt her, or me. It's this world, it's brought it all out in you, but it's not the real you."

"Bullshit..."

"Believe me, I'd like to take it all away from you, carry it for you. But I can't. The only thing I can do is be with you, take care of you, love you and..." he stopped as his brain realized what words had left his mouth. He had never said that before. 

God! He couldn't remember the last time he told someone he loved them, maybe in his previous life. He had always been hopeless with feelings, he couldn't name them like some people, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. His body was full of emotions, and you had added a few more that he could barely handle. And now you were staring at him with a mixture of fear and not understanding a word he had said. 

Joel took a deep breath. "I love you." He repeated. "I have loved you for a long time. I should have told you before, not now that you... Fuck." another precious breath. "I love you. And I know what you are. What your head says isn't true, that's not the real you. You shield and protect, baby. You care for others, you love and support. You saved Ellie, me and my brother. You protect our family."

Your brain must have analyzed his words for a long moment, because you were staring at him completely stunned. Only after a long moment of silence did you speak. "You can't love me, Joel. You're wrong..."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, smiling. "If I'm truly certain of anything in life, it's what I feel, sweetheart."

"But-"

"There's no 'but' here. I know perfectly well what I am, but I also know what I've become since you've been with me. And I care about you, so please, come back to bed with me."

His words must have finally reached you, because you gave in to him and got up from the floor. Joel led you back to the bed, and after a moment you were lying in his arms again. The warmth emanating from his body was pleasant, you felt safe and good. His fingers gently stroked your shoulder, and his chest rose with a steady breath. Hundreds of thoughts were racing through your head.

"Will you help me forget?"

"What?" he asked, a little surprised by your quiet question.

"Help me forget, please, Joel. I know you can..."

So he did what you asked him to do. He slowly took off your shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin tenderly. He felt under his fingers the scar you had on your side, he kissed that place too. The panties you were wearing also landed on the floor. You clumsily reached for the edge of his shirt. 

Joel's broad shoulders and chest were something you adored, but at that moment he didn't give you time to admire him. His lips found yours, kissing you tenderly, his tongue slipped inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. The next thoughts flew out of your head, one after another. 

The tenderness with which he touched and caressed you was extraordinary, and at the same time delicate. If you hadn't asked him to help you forget, he would probably have given himself more time, but in that case you couldn't wait. He spread your thighs with his knee and settled between them.

"I don't want it to hurt..."

"It won't. And even if it does, I don't care."

You took his cock at the base, stroked it and rubbed the head against your entrance a few times. Joel closed his eyes, sighing quietly. With one, not even strong, movement of his hips, he pushed the tip into you, and you closed your eyelids. Warm walls wrapped around him tightly as he went deeper and deeper. Until the very end. Delicate hands stroked his shoulders as he tried to get used to this feeling. You had made love so many times, but every time Joel felt delight when he entered you.

Finally, he lifted himself up on his forearms and looked at your face, the face he loved so much, the face he was afraid to lose.

"I love you so fucking much." he said quietly.

You smiled. "I love you too, more than you can imagine."

He started moving. One thrust after another, your quiet moans filled his ears, your nails dug into his shoulders and back. But Joel didn't stop, if you wanted to forget he wanted to help you with that. 

And he didn't stop until you fell apart in his arms, until you arched in the pleasure he gave you. Every shiver you made, every sigh - it all felt like a declaration of love. Love you were a symbol of.

And when you fell asleep exhausted in his arms, he stroked your soft skin for a while longer, kissed your forehead, drew from your warm body. He repeated to himself that no matter what happened he would do everything to keep you safe, because he couldn't lose another loved one. And you were his whole life.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[eph3merall]

dealer!chris x innocent!bff!reader hcs 🦌

dealer!chris . . . who always has a part of his mind thinking about you. what are you up to? classes? work? friends? hangouts? he'll text you and pretend to not care much, but deep down he just doesn't want to admit how much he worries over this girl who is just his friend.

innocent!bff!reader . . . loves and adores all things autumn. her clothes are fall staples that include lots of denim and earthy tones. so whenever she's hanging out with chris and sees something to add to her closet or keep as a trinket or decoration, she'll look up to chris with pretty lil' eyes and how could he deny her? sometimes he'll purposefully look away and shove her away from the store because she keeps burning a hole through his pocket.

dealer!chris . . . despises situations where innocent!bff!reader roped into his 'job'. there are shady people buying some strong shit from him, and he knows matt would also screw him over if innocent!bff!reader got harmed because of him. matt sees you as a best friend, someone he needs to protect because his brother is a little fucking stupid sometimes. dealer!chris always tries avoiding problems when it seems as if you're gonna get involved with any of his deals.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who's had a boyfriend or two before. she's just never had sex, and once she told chris he was laughing at her and giggling with his eyes all red. 'fuckin'... you're jokin', right kid?' and when she tells chris she's dated less than five people he's laughing harder. gosh, what an asshole.

dealer!chris . . . always carries a lighter with a printed cat photo on it that innocent!bff!reader glued/taped onto it. keeps a picture of her in his wallet as well—a polaroid of her awhile back in the winter, running into the horizon as snow fell around her frame. he could hear the giggles she made just by looking at the photo.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who has severe nosebleeds once every few months or so. it'll get so bad to the point she's crying because she thinks she's gonna die—with chris grumbling all annoyed with his hand fisting her hair so it doesnt get caked in blood. sometimes hes high and just stares at times while she yells at him to get her a hairtie or to grab ahold of most of her hair.

dealer!chris . . . who's, again, literally just an asshole to everyone. you're barely an exception. one second he'll be laughing with you and once he's with a buyer or some of his friends, he'll act like you're some dirt on his shoe. plus he's just plain ol' mean. wont take bullshit from anyone, not even his brothers. matt pisses him off more than nick does. but of course, they're his brothers. so he isnt.. that mean.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who grew up sheltered from everything in life. her parents are overprotective and she's their only child—only serving to make them more anxious when she's out. met chris through nick since the two were in a class together. something clicked and they've been hanging out ever since, usually in groups. chris and his friends are nott a good influence on her. but her mother doesn't have to know, does she?

dealer!chris . . . lovess cute coupley things. he just won't ever admit it to anyone he knows, not even his brothers if they ask or jab at him. secretly, he loves it when innocent!bff!reader hugs him tight or brushes her fingers across his skin. but he'll always stick to his go-to response—a scoff and he's pushing her away, muttering some shit like 'god, fuckin'.. annoying as hell always touchin' me.'

innocent!bff!reader . . . tries getting herself off with her fingers for the first time in awhilee since meeting chris because he just makes her feel so weird. all hot and bothered and it's gotten so overwhelming that humping her pillow alone in her dorm room isn't enough, so she's sliding her fingers inside her cunt slowly and mewling all softly in the privacy of her dorm room. she doesn't even realize that she secretly wants chris to see her like this.

dealer!chris . . . fucks with girls left and right. a new chick at each party that he sells some drugs to, and, if they're pretty enough.. he'll let them suck his dick or something. hey, he got to cum down some pretty brunette's throat and got a fat stack of cash? win-win. but when he met innocent!bff! reader... she went to house parties with him sometimes. which resulted in him not getting to fuck a girl's throat-which also resulted in dealer!chris fucking his own fist at night with the thought of you in his head.

—

©eph3merall 2024

[annievrse]

the sled problem

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: thinking about alabasta where there's no room for matsuge to carry you, so zoro puts you on the sled with chopper (feat. a lot of reader x crew too!). w/c: 1.1k c/w: zoro refers to reader as 'my girl' & 'girlfriend', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than zoro. a/n: thanks everyone for voting! here is bf!zoro.

"My turn!" Luffy exclaims, feet dragging through the sand. You eye him wearily as it seems he used the last of his energy to make it known that he was to take your place on the sled. You wince when he stumbles, the last of the water hanging by a rope around his neck.

"No way, moron," Zoro grunts behind you. "My girl and Chopper only."

Next to Luffy, Usopp lets out a noise of disagreement, his body weight relying on the walking stick in his hand. "Surely she can walk— Ouch!"

Chopper's weak giggle cuts the thick air beside you, and you look to where the sharpshooter lays motionless in the orange sand. Glancing back, you see Zoro's fist lowering back to his side.

"Stop complaining," Nami says, adjusting the scarf on her head. "We'll be there soon."

"You're on the back of a camel," Usopp splutters as he gets to his feet. Matsuge grunts in dismissal, and Nami pretends not to hear her crewmate and turns to face the horizon.

"Let me on!" Luffy attempts to yell, staggering toward the swordsman. "C'mon, Chopper, you're an animal fit for the desert."

The reindeer shakes his head and clasps his arms around your bicep. "No way, you try having a fur coat in his heat."

Usopp giggles, though he eyes the waterskin that hangs against Luffy's chest instead of the medic. "I'll cut it off you if you'd like—"

A collective gasp sounds through the group; this time, you kick your leg out to trip him over, realising too late that he was speaking about the water and not Chopper.

Zoro chokes out a cackle at the thump of his crewmate against the sand. "Atta girl."

Usopp makes no move to get up. He lays there, delirious, until Sanji grips the back of his shirt and tugs him along. "Idiot."

The only sound is the wind and the crunch of shoes in the desert. Sighing, you start to feel bad for the others when you see them struggling to stay upright, so, you shuffle Chopper over so you can get up.

"'Ro," You say, turning to face his back. Zoro stops and looks at you with his brows furrowed. "Here, Luffy—"

The group groans as you stand, dusting the sand from your clothes.

Zoro shakes his head and scoffs. "I'm not pulling that moron. Sit back down."

With pleading eyes, you shove your captain toward the sled, carefully avoiding Chopper. "Just pull him; I'll walk with you for a while."

Zoro grumbles and suddenly jolts the sled, so Luffy slides off. "Oops."

"Please, Ro," You say, touching his forearm. "Just until I get tired."

"Yeah, just until she gets tired," Luffy mumbles, heaving himself onto the sled. "Which will be never."

Zoro glares at you, but the look is too familiar for you to take it harshly. Then, he starts walking again, purposefully making a face of discomfort.

"Thanks, baby," you smile, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

"Aw, baby, that's so cute," Usopp mumbles, his face just inches off the ground thanks to Sanji's grip. "Zoro, baby, my baby—"

Sanji rolls his eyes, drops him, and keeps walking. "Do you ever shut up?"

You glance back at him, but Zoro nudges you with his shoulder. "He'll catch up."

Sighing, you stop and walk back to Usopp. Zoro knows what you'll make him do, but god knows he’ll always do what you tell him.

You try your best to help the sniper to his feet, muttering that he won't have to walk anymore, giving Usopp the energy to run to the sled. So much for feeling bad for him...

"You need to learn to ignore them," Sanji says, plucking the cigarette between his lips. "Let the moss head drag you through the dunes. He clearly wants to."

You look back and slow down to match his steps, smiling at Sanji's attempt at being nice to your boyfriend. "It's the least I can do."

The cook begins to counter your lame argument but stops short when he sees Zoro waiting for you ahead: his captain, the sharpshooter, and the reindeer piled on the wooden sand sled.

"I'm doing all this for you, and you ditch me for the cook."

You can feel Sanji roll his eyes beside you. Laughing, you quicken your steps to catch up to the swordsman.

"Jealous?"

Zoro scoffs and readjusts his grip on the ropes. "Of him? I'd rather die."

There's a sigh behind you, and then Sanji speeds past you, hands clasped before him as he asks Nami if she needs anything.

Zoro knocks your shoulder with his bicep, bringing you back to the man beside you. He's a man of very few words, but you know what he's trying to say. Quit teasing me.

Rolling your eyes, you giggle. "Stop flirting, we're in the desert."

"Seriously?"

You shrug and glance at the boys on the sled, your sweet expression turning to irritation when you see them sitting cross-legged, whispering animatedly while Chopper lies half-delirious from heat stroke. “Seriously?”

“Yeah? I just asked that—“

You stop walking and hit an oblivious Luffy upside the head when he passes. Your captain tumbles onto the sand, Usopp following soon after with expletives falling from his lips.

Huffing, you reclaim your place next to Chopper. "Manipulative idiots."

“You got that right,” Chopper mumbles. You shake your head and watch as the pair stumble back to their feet and start complaining again.

"Why?" Usopp cries. "Zoro control your girlfriend; she's mean."

Zoro laughs deeply, like a warning. "Usopp, I swear to god, if I hear your voice one more time, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

"Sorry," Usopp mumbles to you. "Sorry, Zoro."

"Damn right," your boyfriend states. "And Luffy?"

Your captain's head raises, face screwed in anticipation of what the swordsman had for him.

"Give her the water."

"But—"

"Now, moron!"

You go to counter Zoro's demand, insisting that it is fine, but Luffy hastily rips the rope from his neck and stretches his rubber arm to drop the waterskin in your lap.

"Thanks, Luffy."

His only response is a whiny grumble.

"Here, Chop," You unscrew the lid and push the bottle towards the reindeer. "Drink."

Chopper lifts his head weakly. "No, that's yours."

Rolling your eyes, you shove it further into his tiny chest. "Zoro won't curse you for drinking it, I promise."

Nodding, Chopper takes the waterskin between his hooves and sips.

"Hey, no fair! Why do she and the reindeer get water, and we don't?"

Zoro stops dead in his tracks and drops the rope to the sled. "Usopp."

A terrified scream echoes through the barren desert, and then Zoro rounds the sled and tackles the sharpshooter to the ground.

Nami groans from the front of the group. "Can't we have a normal trip for once?"

Vivi's soft voice follows. "Doesn't look like it."

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Zoro, please! I'm not meant for combat!"

"Shut it, asshole," Zoro sighs. "You speak to my girl like that again? See what happens." 

[cheriecoke]

Morning sex with Nanami would be so nice. He's still a little groggy but his morning wood demands attention so he fingers you a little before sliding in with a groan. He peppers your face and neck with loving little kisses before sucking a mark into your neck. Tells you how good you are with a little smile. So affectionate and soft.

SOBBING ! you are so right about this omg :( i want him so bad its actually unfair

contents. morning sex, soft kento, fingering, unprotected sex, 600 words, hmm this is not that good i’m so sorry 😔

you wake to soft fingers between your thighs, grazing the sensitive skin there. the sun is just peeking above the horizon, light filtering through the window.

"kento?" you ask quietly, your voice still hoarse from misuse. his fingers are cold against your warm skin.

he hums into your neck, breathing into the space just above your shoulder blades. a finger swipes over your panties, and already, you can feel the wetness pooling there. it doesn't take much for kento to get you worked up, not this early in the morning.

"sorry, didn't want to wake you yet, but..." kento begins in a raspy, low voice, not wasting much time before he pushes your panties to the side, dipping one finger into your folds. "i need you, sweetheart."

you can feel his hardness against you thigh, straining against his boxer shorts. your eyes flutter shut again lazily, and you breath softly as kento slips another finger inside of you, scissoring them in and out of you.

"feels good," you say lazily, a burn of desire staring in your chest kento shifts you onto you back, his hands gentle and loving.

he presses kisses all over your face, across your cheeks and the bridge of you nose. something about the tenderness of it turns your cheeks warm, and you grasp at him as his swirls his thumb over your clit. "so beautiful," kento whispers against your cheek.

you don't always feel beautiful, not this early in the morning, but you smile at him anyway, preen under his soft compliment. "want more, ken."

kento's fingers stroke deeper in your cunt, and you moan quietly, arching your back off the bed to press yourself further onto him.

but he doesn't let you cum first, and instead, slips his fingers out of you, tugging off his pants. he's hard and aching, leaking at the tip when he finally presses into you.

you're already so wet from just his fingers, it doesn't take much for him to slide into you, desperate for your touch.

a little gasp leaves you nonetheless, and though his eyes are clouded with lust, it catches his attention, and he slams his hips against yours, just a bit harder.

"god, i love you so much," he says, lacing his fingers with yours against the bed. his deep brown eyes are so soft as he gazes at you, so tender and glossy you feel as if you might cry. "you're so good to me, angel."

"i love you too," you say, as he drags himself out of you slowly, before thrusting deeper inside of you.

the two of you are quiet, listening to each other's heartbeats in the serenity and peace of the early morning. neither of you last long, and when you cum around kento, he spills into you just a few moments later.

he brushes your sweaty hair out of your face, still inside you as his breath grazes your cheeks. your face burns, and you are hot all over. you may have loved kento for years, but he has always made you feel the same sort of adoration as the beginning of your relationship.

"i'm so happy you're mine," you say softly, and you're still so sleepy, you don't really consider the words that leave your mouth.

or the way that kento melts once more, his heart jumping out of your chest at your gentleness.

[beenbaanbuun]

Neighbour w/ song mingi

words - 3.1k

genre - smutty

warnings - fem!reader, afab!reader, neighbour!mingi, mysterious!mingi, drop-out!reader, bitter!reader, wet dreams, masturbation, nicknames (kitty, good girl), i think that’s it

——————————————————————————

Coming home from a night shift is never fun, but its even less so in winter. As if the bone-deep tiredness wasn't already bad enough, now you have to compete with the inescapable chill of the air and the long, dark mornings that seem to drag on for eternity. It feels like months since you’ve actually seen an ounce of sunlight, sleeping through the few short hours that you’re granted around this time of year. Then you wake up again at 4pm, just in time to watch the sun go down beyond the horizon as you cook your breakfast of packet ramen and coffee.

Its a depressing existence, and you’d be the first to admit that, but you cant really afford much else. As a drop-out in a city full of students, you don't really have too many options. Full time jobs favour people with actual qualifications, and the part-time job market is wildly oversaturated by struggling teenagers looking for a way to fuel the various addictions that come hand in hand with being at university. You remember it well; the £16 bottles of Tesco’s own brand vodka that went down about as easy as a fist full of gravel, the weed from a random dealer who passed you his number at 3am while you were sitting drunk on a park bench. Its an expensive life to live, and you don’t blame them for snatching up every single decent part time job your city has to offer.

Not really, anyway. Theres certainly a little resentment there whenever a drunken customer cusses you out for refusing to serve them. Perhaps a little hatred when you’re sent in to handle yet another bar fight between two men twice your size. Definitely a lot of frustration whenever you feel the amused eyes of your neighbour as he watches you sleepily fumble with your keys whenever you return home in the morning. You’ve yet to learn his name since he moved in, and part of you doesn't want to. From the few run-ins youve had with him, you can already say that no amount of resentment or hatred or frustration you feel towards your working situation compares to what you feel for him.

That stupid bleached hair that he lets grow into something akin to a shitty mullet before cropping it short again, that brash voice that you can hear through the thin walls of your apartment as he yells at whatever sport is playing on his tv, those strangely soft eyes that watch you with so much amusement as you stumble around your shared corridor. He gets home about the same time as you after his morning run, and you hate it. You hate him. Cocky, irritating, handsome bastard.

“Someone pissed in your cereal, Kitty?” he pulls you from your thoughts with a quick quip. His shoulder is leaning against the wall on your side of the corridor, almost as if he was waiting for you to arrive home or something. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was; he seems the type to imagine camaraderie where there certainly isn't any. Perhaps he sees you as a friend, despite never having asked you for your name, or your age, or where you work, or anything else about you, for that matter. Maybe he’s lonely.

“I don’t eat cereal,” you scoff as you brush past him to get to your front door. He twists his body to watch you amble past him, your keys already poised in hand, “why would i want to eat cold mush every morning? Its gross.”

He chuckles brightly as if you’ve just told the joke of the century, and you weren’t just complaining about the concept of the nation’s favourite breakfast food. The judgemental glare you shoot in his direction happens just as easy as his laughter.

“It's a metaphor, Kitty,” God, you fucking hate that nickname, “surely work can’t have fried your brain that much.”

He wears a smirk that stretches from ear to ear, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he stares you down. Part of you wishes you could sock him right in his pretty little face, but a smarter part of you knows that the muscles that decorate his body arent just for show. He's like a dog in that sense; no matter how cute and unassuming he makes himself out to be, there's always going to be a part of you that understands what hes capable of. Dogs were once wolves, after all.

Your gaze cant help but flicker to a scar on his cheekbone, and then up to the newer one that sits on his left hand eyebrow. They’re not the type that you get from playing a little too rough as a kid, nor the type thats left over from surgery. They’re purposeful and dangerous and it makes you wonder just what he did to deserve them.

“My brain is fine,” you make a point of looking away from the scar above his eye, no longer wanting to dwell on what might of caused it, “not that the state of it is any of your concern.”

He laughs again, his smile cracking his face in two as your annoyance only grows. How is it that he can make you feel so… undermined? With such ease too! Its like every toothy grin is an act of condescension, every comment crawling beneath your skin like beetles. You’ve met plenty of arseholes in your life, and yet theres been no one who angers you quite as much as him.

“I’m just being neighbourly, Kitty–”

“That’s not my name,” you growl out, a thick layer of impatience coating your words.

“Yes, but it suits you,” he says with a shrug, “far better than the one written on the front of your mail, don’t you think?” What business did this man have looking at your mail? You’ve never once paid attention to his, nevermind going as far as to read the name that sits just above the address. You regret it now as you watch the playing field become even more uneven than it already was. Its you against him; the older, stronger, cockier man that knows more about you than you do him. Logic says that this is a game; one that you've already lost.

He says your name, humming it lowly to himself as if its an equation he’s trying to figure out. It sounds good, coming from his mouth, his accented drawl pulling at the letters in a way you’ve never heard before. The vowels get extended and the consonants ring out clear like a bell. It feels like the first time hearing your name, and whilst that might not necessarily be true, it certainly is the first time you’ve liked it. Its the first time its ever felt correct.

You could kick yourself for even thinking something so… pathetic.

“It might not suit me, but it is my name,” you insist as you try to ignore the desperate pitter patter in your chest. Its not a sensation you’re familiar with, especially not when it comes to him. You can only blame it on the romantic dry spell you’ve been facing as of late. Turns out the night shift isn't exactly conducive to meeting new people.

“Sure it is, Kitty,” you grind your teeth against one another, “but what's a nickname between friends, hm?” his teeth glint in the flickering overhead light, flashes of luminance against his pearly white canines. If he truly were a dog, you’d already be running, the look in his eyes telling you exactly whats going to happen if you entertain him for much longer. Like a rodent stuck in the maw of its predator, you can already feel your fate closing in on you. If you don't leave now, you fear he wont ever let you go.

You slip your key into your lock and twist it.

“We’re not friends,” is all you say as you bump your shoulder into the wood to pry it open, quickly slipping inside before locking it behind you.

Theres a chuckle, and a single soft tap against the door.

“We’ll see about that, Kitty.”

——————————————————————————

You sleep strangely.

Despite your mind wandering and your heart rate shifting between erratic and arrhythmic, it doesnt take you long to slip into a dreamland once your head is actually resting on the soft fluff of your pillow. Darkness washes over you like waves lapping at the shore, pulling you further and further into the deep until you’re stuck within the murky abyss of your mind. Fish swim past in the form of dream fragments, very few of them making sense.

Your neighbour grins down at you with a softened gaze, hands flitting around your face as if he cant quite help himself but touch. You feel it so clearly; a finger tip gracing the end of your nose, a warm palm cupping your cheek, minty breaths tickling your skin so perfectly. It feels so natural, which is strange given your regular distaste for the man. And as he pulls his hand away, you can’t help but to chase it. You lean in close; so close that you can almost taste his musk on the tip of your tongue. It feels so real, and while every rational part of you thanks the heavens that it isn't, there's still a tiny voice in the back of your head praying that one day it will be.

And the worst part is, your sleep addled mind doesn’t even try and shut that voice it. It seems to nod along, letting your mind wander further and further until the dreams shifts to you lay on a bed. It’s not your bed, so you conclude that it’s his. You’ve never seen it before, but your mind seems to have conjured up something that works. Dark walls, dark bedsheets, dark furniture, all illuminated by the glow of his laptop which loops an animated screensaver of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn.

Heavy hands paw at your flesh, pushing and pulling at you like you’re a ragdoll. They’re careful, yet firm, putting you in position without pushing too far, or tugging too hard. Its like he’s done this a million times before, and you’d believe it if he had! Everything from his smirk, to the unfounded confidence lets you know that he’s good at this; good at catching women in his trap and fucking them until they belong to him, mind, body, and soul.

And you can deny it if you want, but something tells you that perhaps he has you on a tighter leash than you care admit. Perhaps he already owns your soul, and judging by the way his tongue presses upon your clit in your dream, it’s clear that he already owns your mind. All that’s left for him to take is your body, and would it really be so bad if you gave that to him as well.

If you were awake, you’d be hating yourself for having these thoughts, but you’re not, so you indulge. Your hands fly to his hair and tug on his silky strands like they’re the only things keeping you anchored to earth right now. It’s all too much; far more than you’ve ever felt in a dream before, and before you know it, you’re coming undone. Your heart is hammering, and your eyes are flying open and your own fingers are being drenched in your cum as they stimulate the motion of your neighbours tongue on your clit.

Fuck, you really must’ve been horny if you had to resort to sleep-wanking.

Disgust fills you from top to bottom as you sober up and let sanity rain down on you once more. Your fingers are sticky, but not quite as much as your thighs. Your underwear is seemingly nowhere to be seen, although you don’t doubt that it’s had the same treatment. You feel a mess, both physically and mentally. Seriously! Thirsting over a man you’ve dedicated your last few months to hating? It all feels too surreal to think about.

Yet think about it is all you can do. As you crawl out of bed, you can still feel his breath on your skin, and as you strip with wet sheets and shove them into the wash, you can still practically smell him. The steam that surrounds you in the shower makes your head spin, and its almost like you can’t stop yourself when for the second time that night—although the first time in whisky awake—your fingers find their way dancing over you clit to the thought of him consuming you.

You cum twice, maybe three times before the water turns cold and you’re left shivering and ashamed of yourself. This time it’s worse than when you first woke up, though. You’re conscious, and you willed those images to come into your head. No longer can you give your brain the benefit of the doubt because this time, this is exactly what you wanted, not just some crazy, nightmarish concept you’ve dreamt up.

“Fucking hell~” you growl to yourself as you switch off the water and lean your head against the cold tile. Your fingers are pruned, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower or the constant abuse of your poor clit. Either way, it’s a clear signal that you need to get a grip; get out of the bathroom and remove any thought of that man from your brain. These thoughts aren’t normal, you tell yourself as you wrap a fuzzy towel around your body; you don’t even know the man’s name for heaven's sake!

You make a mental note to check his mail the next time you leave the flat. By the end of the day, you want to know as much about this man as possible. If he’s going to take over your every thought, waking or otherwise, then you at least deserve to know the name of the man that’s ruining your life.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear, right?

There’s a knock on your door; three short taps that almost go unnoticed by you. “Shit—coming!” You yell out as you hurriedly slide some pyjama bottoms over your thighs and a loose hoodie over your head. The towel on your hair remains in place, keeping your wet locks contained and out of your face. It makes you feel a little silly, as you make your way over to the door and crack it open to reveal your neighbour, but then you remember that you’ve painted him as a slut, and so a woman with a towel wrapped around her head probably isn’t too unusual of a sight.

“Kitty,” he says with a sly grin the moment the two of you come face to face. What would happen if you just slammed the door in his face, you wonder? Would it wipe that look off of his face? You doubt it; a man like that is only spurred on by rejection. They’re too full of themselves to understand that not everyone in the world wants to get in his pants.

Fragments of your dream flash through your mind.

Maybe you do want to get in his pants…

“What do you want?” You try and push the thoughts of his tongue on you away as you speak, but you can’t push away the warmth that pools in your stomach as he looks you up and down. His gaze is so brazen as it studies your form, taking extra time to travel over your curves. They’re well hidden by the oversized clothing you don, but with the way he studies you, you almost feel naked.

“Oh, nothing much,” he takes his time in returning his gaze to your face, letting his eyes linger on your chest for a moment or two. You’re almost tempted to cross your arms and cover yourself, but there’s some sick part of your brain that’s enjoying the way he looks at you. It’s the same part that conjured up those dreams, and make you play with yourself in the shower; the same part that’s trying to convince you that lusting this hard over a man you’re supposed to hate is entirely logical. You hate that part of yourself, and yet you don’t dare fight it as it takes control. “I made too much food; I wanted to know if you’d like to come over and have some?”

Immediately, your brain goes blank. Stepping into the apartment of a man you don't really know is a bad idea, right? Sure, he’s your neighbour, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. Your eyes flicker across his scars again, and the burning question of where they came from returns. Your mind wanders to all sorts of dark places, and you try to ignore the way it makes the uncomfortable ache in your stomach deepen. You remember reading somewhere that fear is a powerful aphrodisiac and it’s the only explanation for the wetness that’s gathering between your thighs for the hundredth time today. It has nothing to do with his fluffy hair, or how hot he looks when he wears that condescending expression!

Even you can’t seem to make yourself believe that lie.

“I don’t really know you well enough to go to your apartment,” you try to reason, although you hardly sound stern about it. Your voice is weak, shaky, and there’s plenty of room for push back. With your brain teetering on the edge of too-horny-to-be-logical, you have no doubt that if he were to push too hard, you’d be sat at his dinner table by the end of the night. Perhaps you should just slam your door in his face; it would solve a plethora of issues, including giving you the privacy to fix the one between your legs (again).

“Well, my name is Mingi,” he smiles and you almost collapse to the floor right then and there. The name bounces around in your skull. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. It suits him; you like it; you can imagine moaning it.

“Mingi,” you whisper back to him, and his eyes darken.

“It sounds pretty coming from you, Kitty,” suddenly the nickname doesn’t sound so bad. It shoots a tingle down your spine right to that aching spot between your thighs. You gasp, and he looks at you like you’ve just moaned his name for the entire building to hear. Something tells you that the night is heading in that direction anyway. “So what do you say? Come over?”

And against all your better judgement, you nod.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, you just fucking nod.

“Good girl.”

[connorsui]

Rafayel x wife! Reader || Imagine

"Sunset Love and Baby Kisses"

"I carried you for nine whole months... nine whole months," you teased, holding your baby gently across your chest. Your tone was playfully dramatic as you admired them, their small, round face looking up at you with wide, curious eyes. “And you dare come out looking exactly like your daddy?”

Your baby girl responded with a laugh, her little hands reaching up in a wobbly attempt to grab your face. You couldn’t help but laugh too, your heart filling with a warmth so deep it nearly overwhelmed you.

“Not even a single ounce of me anywhere... no, you just had to come out with blue eyes and all,” you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment as she continued her giggly attempts to capture a strand of your hair. You let out a soft sigh, watching her with an expression somewhere between amusement and awe.

“Gods, you’re even bratty? Did you get anything from me at all? At least show me you got something out of me, will you?”

Your baby answered with an enthusiastic smile, her little hands gripping onto your shirt before leaning forward. Suddenly, she pressed her mouth against your cheek, showering you with slobbery "kisses." You burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy bubbling inside you.

“Okay, okay, maybe you got my love instead,” you said between giggles, wiping the drool from your cheek.

As the laughter faded, you took a moment to breathe in the world around you. The beach stretched out in all directions, the sand soft and warm beneath your feet. The sunset had turned the sky into a brilliant display of color—golden hues melting into pinks, purples, and deep oranges. The waves rolled in lazily, their gentle rhythm lapping against the shore, a soft hum against the peaceful evening. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater, filling the air with freshness as it brushed against your skin.

You held your baby a little closer, feeling her heartbeat thrum softly against your chest. The sun, low on the horizon, cast a soft glow over everything, painting the scene with an almost dreamlike quality. It was a perfect evening, one of those rare moments where everything felt right—just you, your babygirl, and the endless beauty of the world around you.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waves.

“Well, speak of the man himself.”

You turned and saw Rafayel walking towards you, the sunset casting a golden light over his features. His messy hair caught the breeze, and his grin—the same grin you’d seen a million times—was filled with that playful, cocky confidence you loved and sometimes pretended to be annoyed by. His eyes, however, softened the moment they landed on you and the baby, a tenderness lingering there that he reserved just for you.

Rafayel knelt down beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His thumb lingered on your cheek as he looked down at the baby with a smirk.

"What’s this I’m hearing about you being jealous of me?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

You raised an eyebrow, flashing him a mock glare as you adjusted your hold on the baby. “Please. I was just explaining how our child came out looking exactly like you. Nine months of carrying them, and what do I get? Nothing but your child like brattiness and your blue eyes in return."

Rafayel chuckled, a sound that blended into the soft crash of the waves. He leaned down to kiss the top of your baby’s head before glancing up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And? Is that really so bad?” he said, his tone playful but filled with affection.

You rolled your eyes but smiled as the baby reached for his hand, their tiny fingers gripping his with the same tenacity they had moments ago when grabbing your hair. Rafayel’s gaze softened even further as he admired them, the pride and love in his eyes unmistakable.

“I guess you’re right about that,” you said, your smile widening as you watched the two of them together. “But just know, if she grows up with your attitude, you can deal with it.”

Rafayel laughed, the sound rich and lighthearted as he leaned closer, his arm sliding around your shoulders. The three of you sat together as the sun continued its descent, bathing everything in the soft, fading light of the evening.

And in that perfect moment, with the breeze, the sunset, and the gentle rhythm of the waves, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your little family, wrapped in warmth and love, was all you needed.

[mothekko]

Her woman.

Where Ambessa demands your attention after a long trip.

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader Warnings: alcohol drinking, buff reader, reader is implied to be lesbian, slightly sub!ambessa, fluff, no-smut, kisses<3 mwah mwah. Word count: 968.

notes: ambessa my beloved (not just mine but of course my best friend's beloved too), i had this idea yesterday when she cried cause every reader is always the girly girl type, never a big woman with big everything (including her arms 😛), anyway, enjoy reading as I did writing :3 xoxo

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ambessa was not a fragile lady, no. She was far from this. First, she was the type of mercilessly war dog everyone heard about. Her fingers were not as delicate as some women tried to imagine.

Oh, and you knew it. You knew her hands were stronger than any other woman you ever had an affair with. She was delicate, but rough. She was firm and strong, and for God’s sake, you could listen to all the girls and boys in the whole Noxus almost moaning for her, just by seeing her walk on the streets. She didn't pay too much attention, she had her business with you. She came back from war, her fatigue was noticeable in her letters, and you analyzed them perfectly, all of them.

As much as you knew about her weariness, she always asked you for a visit, and how could you deny the woman who gave you your position as high guard in Noxus? The more time passed, your attention was drawn to the dark streets of Noxus, scantily clad women didn't attract you, even though it was the complete opposite for you and they sometimes tried to attach themselves to your belt, along with the axe and sword that were in the hem of your pants and back. The icy wind touched your hair, two braids made by the war general framed your face. It wasn't usual for you to leave your hair loose, but after weeks, or months, without seeing each other, the braids were Ambessa's only request.

You looked across the horizon, all the tents closed and quiet, but that one... that central one, which you knew who was inside; the candles flickering in the air were warming someone. Ambessa was waiting for you. As you approached the place, your muscles tensed in suspicion as you entered the tent. You sighed and Ambessa looked back, a smile from her brightened up her face. A woman like her? Smiling? You're lucky.

“Night, ma’am…” You said, the smell of alcohol around the place was a little too much this time, but well, it’s Ambessa, after all. “Too much to handle this time? Or drinking for fun?”

She didn’t answer you, not like she usually does. She silently invited you to sit next to her, moving the wine bottle to the side on the floor. Cautiously you walked through the tent, until you reached her side, and before you could even sit down, she settled her head on your waist. Her mind was heavy with thoughts.

Ambessa without her usual clothes, smiling, and laying her head on you? Of course something was wrong. But this kind of wrong is not so bad, not at all. At least she was showing some affection. 

“Listen, darling… don’t ask any questions today… I just want you to be good for me.” She said, she doesn’t look drunk. Does she? “These months without you made me so bored, you know…”

You kindly touched her hair, asking yourself what you should do in that situation. 

“Ma’am, you’re not drunk, are you?” You laughed, looking a little closer. You touched her face, checking her eyes, and suddenly, she removed your hand and sighs deeply. 

“You know me too well, sugar. Maybe I should pretend harder next time…” You finally felt like everything was okay, she was lying and that’s all. “Are you gonna sleep here tonight?” she took a sip of wine “Or will I wake up with a boy calling me out for being too sleepy?”

A sigh escaped your lips, a frustrated sigh now. You looked straight at her, sitting by her side. 

“Listen, ma’am, I always told them to send a woman to wake you up, look at me, do I look like someone who likes any kind of boy here?” She shook her head. “That’s what I thought. And, who said you’re too sleepy? These boys around here have no fucking respect for you…”

You pulled the woman closer, holding her tightly. She was warmer than you, obviously because you were outside thirty minutes ago, but still, that makes your heart skip a beat. Again you move your hands to her cheek, and she looks at you with those shining eyes.

“What a beautiful woman I see…” You said. And then, you gently kissed her lips, in a simple way. You used to kiss each other, nothing new. But it was definitely special this time. You felt like it was. Her hands, which had been resting on her thigh, now moved up so that they could rest on your waist. “Won’t you tell me about your…”

She shut you with a finger to your lips, kissing you again calmly, caressing your war scarred face. Your arms, which were a bit stronger than hers, held her against your body, feeling how fast her heart was beating.

“I have to be careful… or you’ll become stronger than me, imagine if they put you in my place?” She made you chuckle softly, moving a hand down to rest on her back.

“You’re making no sense, ma’am. I could never replace you. But I’m happy you noticed…” 

“Well… I always notice, sweetheart.” She gave you a peck on the lips, snuggling into your chest. “You’re my woman, and I know when you get stronger.”

She said it so casually, with her closed eyes as if she was almost asleep; you wouldn’t doubt it. She had just arrived from a long trip after all.

“Your woman…? Mhm… yeah, you’re definitely sleepy. Goodnight, ma’am… I’ll wake you up tomorrow…”

You could hear a “finally” coming from her as she snuggled into your body. You picked her up, taking the woman to the bed, blowing the candles, pulling the blankets over you, finally spooning her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sunsets warm embrace

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, p in v sex, male receiving oral, fingering, unprotected sex

“stop staring at me.” you giggle, pressing your hand against rafes cheek to turn his attention back to the sunset, but he only glances for a second before turning his attention back to you.

you accept his staring, watching the sun sink further into the waves.

“i think my favorite thing about being out on the yacht is always getting to watch the sunrise and sunset on the water.” you hum.

“you're never awake for sunrise.” rafe states, his thumb swiping over your bare shoulder as he keeps you tugged close to his body.

you turn to him with an over dramatic sigh. “it's because you keep me up late every night.”

rafe taking you for a romantic trip on the yacht quickly turned into the two of you spending more time hidden away in the bedroom than actually driving the boat.

“can't help how much i want you.” rafe shrugs, no shame in his voice.

“ill tell you what.��� you turn to rafe, who is still ignoring the sunset to stare at you. “as soon as the sun sets why don't we head below deck?”

rafe smirks, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. all thoughts of finishing watching the sun dip below the horizon flies out of your head. 

you kiss him back, deepening the kiss as you slide even closer on the bunny pad, throwing your leg over his.

“now?” rafe hums out, a satisfied smile on his face knowing he's about to get his way.

“yeah.” you nod. “now.”

rafe picks you up and walks across the cushions, carrying you like you weigh nothing as he descends down the stairs and into the master bedroom.

“god, i want you so bad.” you giggle out, feeling drunk without having a sip of alcohol, it's the effect rafe has on you.

“you're not sick of me?” there's a vulnerability in rafes voice that has you pausing as he sets you down on the bed.

“ill never be sick of you rafe.” you answer honestly, placing your hands on his abdomen as you look up at him, making sure he's keeping eye contact. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” rafe never thought he'd say the words to a girl and mean it, but that was before he met you.

you keep your eyes on his face as you tug on the string holding your bikini together, letting it fall away from your chest.

rafe tries and fails to stay looking you in the eye as his tongue comes out to lick across his lip.

your hands return to his abs again but don't stay there for long as they're quickly moving down to tug at the waistband of his swim shorts, pushing them down his hips as his cock springs free.

you pay no attention to rafe kicking them the rest of the way off as you grasp his length.

you stroke him to full hardness, which doesn't take long, before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

you can't give him the full attention you want with your mouth, you need him inside of you too bad, but you need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, the warmth of his skin.

“ohhhhh, baby.” rafe moans out, his hand coming to your hair, but he resists the urge to push you down as you suckle on the head of his cock, flicking your tongue over his slit until you can truly taste him.

you relax your throat and push down, taking in more of his cock until your nose nuzzles against her skin. 

you resist the urge to gag, knowing your throat is constricting around rafes cock and hearing his moans of approval as you attempt to breath through your nose.

you stay down as long as you can before you have to pull off, sputtering and coughing but you wouldn't change a thing, especially seeing the way rafe looks at you.

“take your bottoms off.” he commands.

you lean back and raise your hips, pulling off your bikini bottoms and flinging them over rafes shoulder before you hold your legs up, pointing your toes just as your cheer coach taught you back in high school.

rafe places a hand at your ankle, slowly moving down until he's caressing your hip before moving inward.

rafe smiles at your sticky wetness already covering between your thighs. he wastes no time pressing his finger inside of you, feeling the way you squeeze around him as he pumps it inside of you.

“oh, rafe.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“god, you're soaked.” rafe chuckles. despite how many times he's had you, he'll never get used to how perfect your pussy is for him as his finger moves from your entrance to your clit, rubbing over it to see the way your body physically reacts, the way you clench around nothing.

rafe doesn't leave your cunt empty for long, thrusting forward to bury himself inside of you as you both moan out in unison.

“fuck!” rafe grunts, immediately picking up the pace as he thrusts into you, keeping one hand rubbing at your messy clit while his other arm wraps around your legs, helping you keep them elevated as you're laid on the bed with your hips tugged all the way to the edge.

“shiiiit.” you whine out. “so big.”

you love the way you can tell rafe reacts to your compliment, fucking you harder and spearing in deeper.

“gonna take you out on the yacht more often if it means fucking you all day.” rafe chuckles. 

you barely make it above deck and into the sun like you expected, he spends far too much time taking you in different positions.

fucking you against the hallway or pressed up against the steering wheel, having you ride him in the guest bedroom or cram into the yacht shower to kneel down and suck him off.

the only place on the boat you haven't christened is all the outside areas, exposed to the open sea. you make a mental note to get that done tomorrow.

“acting as if we don't fuck constantly at home.” you laugh, but rafe is right, there's no responsibilities eating away your time and the privacy means no sneaking around.

“can't help that your pussy is so- fucking- perfect-” rafe delivers punishing thrusts as he grunts out the words, making your cunt flutter around his cock.

“can't last.” your body is in a constant state of overstimulation whenever you're around rafe like this, and you're honestly shocked you've lasted this long while he's been pumping his cock into you.

“hold out, baby.” rafe commands. he could have also busted instantly, but he's determined to stretch this out and make it last longer.

you can feel your leg begin to cramp as you keep your feet pointed towards the ceiling, but rafe is pressing so deep into you that you're not willing to put them down.

the slap of his hips against your skin echoes around the room along with your moans and the soft sound of waves lapping against the boat.

you reach one hand up to grasp rafes wrist of the hand helping hold up your legs, needing the physical contact of touching him.

“hold it.” rafe commands, able to tell from the way you're squeezing around him and suddenly silent that you're struggling to not cum, but he's not willing to stop playing with your clit, not when it's covered in your juices and the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

you let out a mangled groan of frustration mixed with a moan of pleasure as he thrusts into you, his cock suddenly growing as a rush comes to the surface.

knowing he's seconds away from bursting, you let go on the wave of your orgasm, body shaking as rafe fucks you through it, your legs falling to either side of him as his hips press forward, body moving over yours as your chests come together.

rafe lodges his cock as deeply as possible as he cums so deep you think it may be right into your womb.

your moans grow louder before slowly subsiding as his finger moves away from your pussy, but his body stays over yours as his cock begins to soften.

“if i wasn't on birth control i would think that you brought me out here to get you pregnant.” you chuckle.

“i think you'd be pregnant with quadruplets the way we've been going at it.” rafe chuckles, looking up at you with a goofy smile and you don't even bother to correct him that that's not how it works.

“i love you.” you cup his cheek, somehow managing to press a sweet and gentle kiss against his lips despite the acts you've just performed.

“wanna fuck out on the bunny pad tomorrow?” rafe asks.

“must you cheapen the moment?” 

“baby, my cock is still inside of you.” rafe laughs.

you hum as he slowly slips out, his cum spilling out but will be left to clean up later as you move further up the bed, knowing the routine by now. rafe is going to hold you and touch you until he's hard again and then fuck you into oblivion again, then repeat, then repeat.

“but seriously, the bunny pad?” rafe questions.

“oh, absolutely.”

[arixella]

Unspoken Words

╰┈➤ pairing: Shanks x female! reader

a/n: send request if you have any <3

summary: After a long and unexpected reunion with Shanks, the two of you share a quiet, intimate moment on the deck of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship, where Shanks finally confesses that, despite all the years and distance, he’s never stopped loving you.

wc: 900

contains: fluff, tiny angst

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as the sea lapped gently against the hull of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship. The sounds of the crew bustled in the background, but up on the deck, away from the ruckus, the air felt still, like the world had paused just for you two.

You hadn't expected to be here—on this ship, with him.

It had been years. Years of wondering, waiting, and hoping that one day you’d see him again. Shanks. The man who had left without a word, disappearing into the vast world, only to reappear like a distant memory brought to life. You had kept the promise you'd made to yourself: to move on. Life had taken you down its own winding roads, yet deep down, a part of you had always carried him with you.

Now, you stood beside him once more. Your heart ached with emotions you couldn’t quite sort out. His fiery red hair caught the light of the fading sun, and that trademark grin played across his lips, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made you wonder just how much time had really passed.

"You’re quieter than I remember," Shanks chuckled, turning his gaze toward you.

You blinked, breaking from your thoughts. "I guess I’m still processing this whole... reunion."

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath. "I didn't expect you to be speechless. Was I that bad of a captain to make you nervous?"

The teasing tone didn’t reach his eyes, though. His grin faltered for a brief second, and you noticed the subtle way his fingers tightened around the railing. He’d always worn that easygoing facade, but the longer you looked at him, the more it became clear—there was something on his mind. Something he hadn't told you all these years.

You took a small step closer, letting the warm evening breeze sweep through your hair. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Shanks laughed softly, a sound you had missed so much. "I know," he admitted. "But... it’s been so long, I wasn’t sure where to start."

You gave him a small, wry smile, your gaze steady on him. "Start with the most important part," you said quietly. "Why did you leave without a word? We didn’t even get a proper goodbye."

His expression shifted, and for a moment, he was silent. He turned his gaze to the horizon, the fiery orange sun reflecting in his eyes. “I wanted to come back. God, I wanted to. But... I didn’t think it was right. I thought you’d be better off without me, that I’d just get in the way of your future."

You were silent, processing his words. “So you left because you thought it was for the best?” you asked, your voice a mix of frustration and sadness.

Shanks nodded, his shoulders tense. "I’ve always been a man who lives in the moment. But I’ve never been good at thinking ahead. Back then, I couldn’t offer you anything solid. I didn’t want to drag you along with my reckless lifestyle... And I hated the idea of you waiting for me, wasting your life on someone who couldn’t promise you anything."

The weight of his words hung between you, but as you watched him—this man who had always been larger than life, full of energy and joy—you saw something that you hadn’t expected: regret.

"I spent all these years thinking about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "Wondering if you hated me, or if you had moved on with someone else. I tried to convince myself that it was better this way. But it’s been... hard. Every damn day, harder than the last."

Your heart clenched as you took a step forward, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Shanks, you don't have to apologize. You did what you thought was best... but I wish you’d known I would've waited for you."

He turned to face you then, his gaze locking onto yours. The playful spark was gone, replaced by an intensity that made your breath hitch. "I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "But I do now."

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the sea and the faint creak of the ship’s wooden planks. Shanks shifted, closing the distance between you, and before you knew it, his hand gently cupped your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of warmth through your chest.

“You’ve always been a part of me, Y/N,” Shanks whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Even when I was a thousand miles away, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you.”

The words hung in the air, as if they were both a confession and a release. A truth he’d kept hidden for far too long. You stared at him, your heart racing, and a bittersweet smile curled on your lips.

"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice trembling slightly.

"You don’t have to say anything," he replied, his grin returning but this time it held a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. "I just wanted you to know... I never stopped loving you."

Your heart swelled, and without another thought, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours, like a long-awaited reunion, and for a moment, the world melted away. The past, the years of separation, the pain—it all faded into the background as you kissed him, letting the emotions that had been hidden for so long wash over you both.

When you pulled back, breathless and with your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “I missed you, Shanks.”

He grinned, his eyes still soft but filled with that familiar spark. "I’m not going anywhere this time."

And for the first time in years, you believed him.

The sun dipped below the horizon, but the warmth between you both remained—quiet, unspoken, and enough to carry you both through whatever the future held.

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[saquesha13]

!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!

Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.

It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.

Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.

So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.

The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.

This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…

Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.

“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.

“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”

“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.

“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.

Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.

“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.

“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.

Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.

“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.

“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.

“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”

“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.

Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?

“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”

Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.

“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.

“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.

“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.

“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.

He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.

“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.

Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.

“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.

It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.

“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”

“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.

Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.

It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.

To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.

But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.

Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.