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whatitshouldvebeen · 7 months

Note

“…stops the moment being with you is more difficult than it worth…” ((this is from your post a couple days ago))

Imagine a timid, broken reader trying to win back Johnny’s affection. He’s abusive but to her its still affection he gives and she can’t live without him. She has attached herself to this killer.

“If it will make you happy… you can hit me… you can pull my hair.. or choke me… I’ll even make you feel good… just don’t stay mad…please”

Johnny Slaughter x Reader

Contains: extreme abuse, gas lighting, and the unhealthiest relationship known to man

Too Much Trouble

In the dimly lit room, Johnny's return was heralded by waves of pure hate that seemed to radiate off him.

"You stupid fucking bitch," Johnny snarled, his silhouette looming menacingly in the doorway, hands clenched into fists.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed, collapsing to your knees with hands clasped in front of you, a desperate plea for mercy echoing in your voice, a prayer to a merciless, vindictive God.

He stood there, a simmering rage evident as his fists clenched and unfurled.

"Johnny, please don't stay mad," you pleaded, bowing your head submissively. "I'll do anything. You can hit me, choke me, or do whatever you want to me. I am so, so sorry."

"You're sorry, huh? How many fucking times have I heard that bullshit?" His open palm met your cheek with a resounding slap, reducing you to grovel at his feet, tears streaming down your face, your cheek ablaze with red.

"I don't need your permission to beat you, you little rat fuck."

"You're right, I'm sorry," you muttered, nodding erratically.

"You're gonna be sorry. This time, I'm not holding back."

His kick landed squarely in your stomach, the force sending you sprawling onto the floor, clutching your abdomen in agony.

The illusion shattered again. The happy façade crumbled, the façade you could pretend was your reality when Johnny was pleased with you, when you were perfect.

He had expected you to pack him a meal when he went out to "work," criticizing you for forgetting his snack for a week. You leaped up, ran to the kitchen, and returned with the snack, only to face his wrath.

"Just like you to be a full-blown fucking retard. Can't listen for one goddamn minute. If I wanted you to go get me a fucking snack right this second, I woulda said to do it," he complained.

"I didn't realize you'd been without one for so long, so I felt bad and wanted to fix it. I shouldn't have worried about it right now, and I'm sorry," you said, attempting to de-escalate the situation.

"Can't go a fucking week without making me explain some basic shit to you. If you thought I cared about the fucking snack, maybe ask if you should go pack it instead of running off?" he berated.

You ducked your head. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"You ain't sorry. If you were, you'd learn a goddamn thing without me needing to tell you a hundred fuckin' times," he growled.

Truthfully, you were amazed he wasn't beating you already. You peeked up at him. "I swear I'll try to ask you if something is bothering you rather than trying to fix it right away," you said, hoping it would appease him. His glare deepened.

"Always with the promises. The swears. 'Oh, I won't do it again, Johnny!'," he mocked.

You started to tremble. "I don't know what to say," you said, struggling to hold his cold gaze.

"If I gotta tell you what to say, it won't make a difference. Why the fuck do I waste my time trynna teach you any goddamn thing? You're useless, lazy, spineless, and pathetic," he spat before leaving the room and locking the door.

Alone, you curled up on the bed, replaying the event in your mind, wondering why he hadn't hit you this time. Maybe you weren't even worth correcting anymore. Maybe you were more trouble than you were worth.

The thought hit you like a sack of bricks. You clutched the sheets, sobbing, desperate to be enough, to be worth keeping.

A timid voice from outside the locked door interrupted your thoughts. "Mommy? Are you okay?"

"Honey, I'm okay. Go to grandma's house, alright?" you said, masking the pain in your voice.

"Mommy needs rest?" they asked innocently.

You smiled through the pain. "Yeah, honey, mommy needs rest. Go on to grandma, baby. I love you."

As their little footsteps padded down the hall, you lay in silence, trying to hold onto the scent of him in the sheets. For almost a month, things had been good. You could almost believe Johnny loved you.

If you had any self-preservation, you'd plan an escape or consider self-defense. But you're stuck, desperately trying to think of what you can do or say to make him happy, knowing deep down there's nothing. With him not having touched you, you feared he had grown tired of tormenting you.

So, as you clutched your aching stomach after he kicked you, part of you was relieved. If he was bothering to correct you, maybe he was still going to keep you.

"I fucking hate you," he declared, kicking you over. "I wish you'd die."

His words cut deep as he grabbed your hair, a blade scraping under your chin. "One little slit is all it'd take to be rid of you. To spare me and our kid from growing up with a shit-for-brains mom."

You said nothing, tears and snot falling onto the floor. Johnny looked disgusted.

"You got nothin' to say? Maybe I should cut out your tongue," he sneered, tilting the blade to nick your skin.

"Baby, please, I-" you started. His eyes narrowed, bloodlust evident.

"Say one more goddamn word. Give me an excuse. I'm dying for you to let me be rid of you," he hissed, eyes filled with hate. "God, it'd make me feel so good to kill you. I can feel the tension leavin' my body just thinking about it. Honestly, I'd probably cum the moment I saw the light die in your dull eyes."

Appalled and mortified, you said nothing. You needed him. He was all you had. You stayed silent as he unleashed his frustration on you, beating you within an inch of your life. When he got tired or bored with it, he left without another word.

You lay on the floor in a pool of blood, body shattered, eyes too bruised to see, but alive. A broken smile crept across your face. He still wanted you. You weren't yet more trouble than you were worth.

#johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre game #tcm game #texas chainsaw game #tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #tw abuse #abusiveboyfriend

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gigglegirlhappy · 7 months

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(3/23/23)

Frontiers’s story had a big impact on me. Sage’s whole dynamic with Eggman struck a chord with me. Eggman slowly starting to see Sage as less of a creation and more of a daughter, occurring in tandem with Sage discovering and learning how to navigate her new feelings, that hit really close to home for me.

The original ending, before the Final Horizon update, brought me to tears. We’ve seen Eggman’s creations get destroyed so many times, but we’ve never seen what it feels like on Eggman’s side of things, especially when it comes to someone as close to his heart as Sage. Those thirty seconds of silence as he stared at the stars, slowly coming to realize that Sage would never come home, never get to know her brothers, never be a family… I actively felt my heart sink for Eggman.

And if that wasn’t enough, “Dear Father,” a song Sage sings to her father, telling him just how much she loved him, and how much she wished she could come home and be a family, plays right after. My heart broke for them both, that scene hit me like a sack of bricks. I was bawling like a child for a long time, which is very unlike me.

I drew this before Final Horizon came out, so I didn’t know how it would affect Sage’s fate. I just wanted to see them all happy together (though Metal Sonic’s chronic resting bitch face makes him look permanently pissed off lmao). It’s funny how life works, because the added context of Final Horizon finally made this image a reality.

Final Horizon’s ending also made me cry like a baby, to be frank, though for a different reason. Instead of that scene with Robotnik staring at the stars alone in deafening silence, we get to see him have a tender moment with Sage. We get to see Sage smile in delight at the thought of finally being able to go home and be a family. We get to hear them talk to each other, be proud of each other, be relieved that it’s over, and glad that they can be a family together.

And then “I’m With You” plays.

While “Dear Father” was, in essence, Sage’s last words to Eggman, expressing her devotion and regret at not being able to come home safe, “I’m With You” is the exact opposite. Sage is no longer wishing for a family she will never meet. She can rejoice in the fact that she’s finally coming home, she has a family, and she’ll finally be able to meet them.

Sage can finally be a part of a family.

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dameronscopilot · 2 years

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you’ve given us dating Poe. dating Poe NSFW. jealous Poe.

I speak for the people when I say we need husband Poe headcanons.

Say no more, anon 🧡

Husband Poe Dameron

Poe Dameron x f!reader

When the Resistance returns to Ajan Kloss to celebrate the defeat of the First Order, Poe Dameron can barely contain the shaking of his hands and the frantic beating of his heart as his eyes desperately scan the horizon for the arrival of your X-wing.

After you touch down, you’re hardly able to begin climbing down from the starfighter before Poe’s hands are at your waist, pulling you tightly into his waiting arms. You can’t tell if the salt on your lips is from your tears or his as he kisses you fiercely, joyously, frantically.

There had been far too many close calls during that battle. During every battle. Poe runs his hands up and down your sides, kisses your cheeks, breathes in your familiar scent—if only to give himself further proof that you’ve both truly made it out of this alive once and for all.

And with that realization, he can’t wait another moment. Another second. The words bubble up in his chest and fall from his lips with more conviction than anything he’s ever said in his life. “Marry me.”

You take his hand and drag him into the woods, away from the din of the celebrations, and he says it again and again as he pushes you up against a tree. As he drags his lips along the curve of your jaw. As buttons are tugged and clothing becomes scarce. As he holds you tightly while you come apart.

And when you whisper, “Yes, yes, yes,” against his lips, into his curls, along his collarbone, Poe wants nothing more than to call you his wife now. Always. For the rest of his days.

Poe recites his vows to you later that evening after making love to you again under a canopy of stars. And as you fold yourself into him, fingers laced together, legs tangled, the beating of your heart responding to his in kind, you think that you’d gladly fight a thousand more grueling wars and dangerous, never-ending battles as long as you ended up here with him.

The wedding is planned quickly; it’s an intimate, understated affair. It’s perfect. But admittedly, the day is a blur, because all you can remember is the choked sob that leaves Poe’s lips when you approach the altar (and again when he finally removes his mother’s wedding ring from the chain around his neck and slides it onto your finger).

Poe knows his Rebel pilot mother would have loved you, and he's told you just as much time and time again. In the months after your wedding, you eventually come to him with a surprise. Though Poe's personal belongings dwindled down to few during his time with the Resistance, he's always kept a piece of steel that came from Shara Bey's X-wing with him. When part of it accidentally breaks off one day, the solution hits you like a sack of bricks—you have it made into a ring to replace the nondescript one you'd both hurriedly sought out for him in the days before the wedding. (Poe's absolutely beyond words when you give it to him.)

While you and Poe both are too dedicated and entangled in the Resistance to simply up and disappear in the aftermath of the war, when you're not busy helping with the continued efforts to restore the galaxy, your free time is spent building the home the two of you will eventually settle down in on a lush, quiet moon.

Poe goes out of his way to source the most beautiful, exotic plants to fill your garden with.

After the first time that he brings you home flowers and watches fondly as you prune them and carefully place them in a vase on the kitchen table, he makes a habit of doing it all the time.

The Resistance's starfighter squadrons still remain active, which means Poe takes advantage of every chance he gets to yell over the comms with a whoop, "That's my wife!" any time you pull off any sort of flashy maneuver in your X-wing.

Poe needs to excuse himself for a minute the day that he notices you've carefully painted 'DAMERON' in Aurebesh on the side of your flight helmet.

Poe Dameron has always looked at you like you personally hung every single star in the sky just for him, and even the brightest, most brilliant of suns would be hard pressed to rival the light behind his eyes and blistering heat that ignites in his gut every damn time he remembers that you're his.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» POE DAMERON MASTERLIST » OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST

#Poe Dameron headcanons #Poe Dameron fanfiction #Poe Dameron imagines #Poe Dameron #Star Wars fanfiction #Star Wars fanfic #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars headcanons #Poe Dameron x reader #Oscar Isaac fanfiction #dee writes

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punsmaster69 · 5 months

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16/DEC/20XX

𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘬.

i hit the floor like a sack of bricks.

this time, of my own volition.

i pushed myself upright, choosing to ignore where my head had apparently been this whole time.

rolled onto my side (landing on the floor) to stop my phone's ringtone from waking tori.

i quietly stepped into her bathroom to muffle the sound,

" 'sup?"

"Are you..."

before i realized i'd enabled my camera in my barely-awake stupor.

"...At Toriel's?"

a "shit." stumbled out of my mouth as i slapped my hand over the camera. i let my hand drop a second after, as this was now pointless.

alphys snorted at my reaction.

"Sooooooo?"

with the intonation of someone trying to elicit more information.

"you first. you called me."

"My reason was 𝘸𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘺𝘺𝘺 more boring than whatever's going on here."

"So you're spending the night?"

"Tell me about that."

"tell me why you called, first."

"I was just gonna ask if the device was working properly."

"seems to be."

i tried not to linger on the memory of what was happening seconds prior to it going off yesterday.

"Anyway. What are you two up to?"

"Having fun with your 'sleepover'?"

"don't put air quotes on it. sleeping's been most of the activity."

she raised an eyebrow.

"nothing else to it."

"So did this just happen or did you plan a sleepover?"

"kinda just went from magic demonstration to this."

"you already heard about how undyne's went, right?"

"pretty tiring."

"ended up conking out here instead."

"And you just decided to stay?"

"yep. she's got a real comfortable couch, y'know."

"I'm sure that's the only reason. Mhm."

"sofa's just that nice."

"say, how'd you immediately know i wasn't just in my room or something?"

"I know you sleep in boxers. Currently, you're fully clothed, so I knew you weren't home."

"You're most certainly not 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦."

"fair point."

"anyway. i'm gonna go back to this couch sleepover."

"seeya, nerd."

"Tell me more about it later!!"

"nope."

——

quietly returning to the living room, i checked to see if she was still asleep.

tori was hugging the pillow i'd not ended up using for more than a few hours last night.

i tiptoed to the kitchen with one goal in mind:

eggs.

eggs are something that even a shabby cook like me can (hopefully) do.

ideally, they'll be omelettes.

really, they're probably ending up scrambled.

——

didn't hear her get close, finally noticing she was awake when she put her hands on my shoulders.

her face met mine when i looked up.

"Good morning, Sans."

"mornin'."

"you like cheese in your omelettes?"

"I do."

she looked at the pan.

"...That is an omelette?"

"sorry."

"𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦-in' you down with my cooking skills, here."

"I do not mind. Omelette or no, it will be 𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘴-tra special coming from you."

"do you have tortillas? could make 'em into wraps instead."

"Oh! We should, somewhere."

"I have bacon bits we can throw in as well!"

"bacon bits?"

"now we're talkin'."

"you're really a lady after my own heart."

out of the corner of my eye, it looked like a surprised expression flickered across her face, but immediately disappeared.

"Thank you for making breakfast. This is very sweet of you."

"consider it payback for yesterday's."

'sweet' isn't something i usually get called.

can't say i hated it at all.

——

instead of being able to focus on what we're watching, my mind is concentrated on tori.

she's running her fingers along my joints, taking everything in; such that you'd think she'd never felt another hand before.

a part of me wants to pull my hand back, say it's too much for me.

but the stronger part of me doesn't want it to end at all.

something that's so distracting for me isn't seeming to pull her attention away to the same extent.

she's normal about this.

i should be too.

——

"Is something on your mind?"

"kinda think i should get a shower too, but i don't have any spare clothes with me."

"You could ask if Papyrus will bring some."

"nah, don't wanna make him come all the way over here again just for that."

"guess i can just wear the same clothes."

"Would lending you something of mine work instead?"

"shirts are probably the only thing of yours that'll fit me."

"I could wash your current clothes along with my laundry."

"i'd have to hang out in your bathroom 'till it's done."

"Would you be comfortable if I were to give you a large shirt to wear in the meantime?"

"just shirt?"

"A very large one."

"don't know how i feel about bare-bones-in' it down there."

"I do not think you'll fit into any of 𝘮𝘺 underwear..."

she gave a playful smirk.

"You're open to try."

"should i put on a bra, too?"

ended up just going with the shirt.

lame, i know.

——

"It fits a bit like a dress, does it not?"

the shirt stopped just barely at the top of my knees.

"shortest one you've put me in so far."

"I could go get a real dress."

"nnnope."

"i'm good."

"You would look good."

"sorry, but we'll have to play fashion doll some other time."

"i've got a couch to go sit my bare ass on."

she cackled.

"Out of anyone, I suppose I would much prefer it be a skeleton doing that."

"really though, i'm gonna go put a towel on under this."

"Alright. The wash is started, so it shouldn't be too long."

——

sitting next to each other is suddenly very precarious, as i am apparently the king of overreacting.

i accidentally bumped my leg against hers, and flinched like i had been shocked from it.

i need pants.

——

thirty minutes left on the wash.

getting a shower here made me realize that i'm somehow staying another night already, without even a second thought.

"......."

"i should go home, right?"

"No!"

"...It is late, already."

"You may as well spend the rest of the night."

"Please, do stay with me."

"...ok."

——

is it odd to say i sleep better here than my own bed?

#undertale #journal #sans #toriel #soriel #sans x toriel #alphys #toriel x sans

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definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear · 5 months

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Hiii, i love how you write, my sugestion is simply that you write whatever you like but that you go nuts with the prompts, Whats the worst, most heart wrenching series of whumpy events that could leave a character looking like mashed potatoes? Go and make It a reality !!^^

hi!! So sorry for making you wait. Life has hit me like a sack of bricks lately and I’ve been super busy.

of course I can write you something, I just can’t guarantee that it will be substantial as I surprisingly do t have many ideas :(

Here goes:

-a whumpee locked in a cell, they are positive caretaker will come for them, they thrash and scream and shout at Whumper that they will regret this, that caretaker is coming for them and they-

until one day, whumper doesn’t come to their cell for they’re regular session, two days pass, three. Their water is running low, they’re hungry and cold. The cell is lonely and dark, so whumpee sleeps. They don’t know how long they’ve been sleeping when they hear a noise. Whumper stands at the door to the cell, a big wooden crate in front of them.

“good morning. Sorry I’ve been away so long. I brought you a gift though! Let’s open it up shall we?” Whumpee, exhausted beyond belief barely registers whumpers words

once the box is opened, whumper leaves whumpee all alone with the mystery present. They slowly crawl towards it. As they peer inside, they see a very familiar fabric, the fabric of caretakers favorite coat, being worn by none other than caretaker.Whumpee’s heart begins to race. They reach their hand it to touch caretakers hand. It’s ice cold. Whumpee then realizes caretaker isn’t breathing. They reel back, bile rising in their throat.

No, no, no, no, no.

this can’t be happening, caretaker was supposed to come save them. This is just a nightmare. This isn’t possible.

a high, animalistic scream erupts from whumpee’s throat as tears stream down their face.

they scream and cry for hours, no one to comfort them but the lifeless body of their protecter.

Alright, there you go anon! Thanks for the ask!!

#whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump #whump blog #defiant whumpee #whump scenario #Tw death #tw puke #kinda #let me know if I missed anything #And if you see any spelling mistakes #no you didnt

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night-ace · 2 years

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more than perfect

obi-wan kenobi x gn!reader

summary: reader is left devastated after a mission gone wrong. obi-wan takes it upon himself to comfort them and ends up staying over for the night, leading to an unexpected confession.

type: fluff

warnings: symptoms of an anxiety attack/mental breakdown, slight self-deprecation, use of petnames, hurt/comfort, obi-wan being the kindest person ever

words: 3k

The mission was supposed to be simple. Infiltrate a Federation base, steal some information and leave. It was supposed to be simple, safe and easy. Hence why the Council had left you, a recently knighted Jedi, in charge.

'You're well trained', 'you'll make a good leader', the Council had said. And you had put all your doubts and anxieties away, believing the words of the Masters you've grown to trust so much.

And at first, everything was going surprisingly well. You got inside the base unnoticed, found the information you needed fast and got out just as quickly. But of course, life is never this easy.

Hundreds of battle droids have surrounded your ship and your two teammates are obviously struggling to keep them out. You run as fast as you can, dodging lasers and robots in the process. But it's not until you step on the ship that you hear him.

"Don't leave me!"

You hear a scream. It's the Jedi that got in the base with you, someone from the Order, someone you have trained with, someone you would even consider a friend. He's stuck under fallen debris, enemy battle droids are all around him and he's vitally injured, that much is clear.

You turn, your hand finding your lightsaber, and you're ready to run towards him when someone's arm catches you, preventing you from moving. The other two Jedi that accompanied you to this mission stand behind you, terror plastered on their faces.

"We've got to go. There's no time."

You look at them in disbelief as they try to rush you inside the aircraft. Your eyes are locked on the man outside. There's blood everywhere, yet the droids are still shooting at him. He needs your help. You can't just leave him here, right?

"They're shooting our engines. If we don't leave now none of us is going to make it!"

The weight of the situation hits you like a sack of bricks. You're the leader of this mission. You have to make the call. The mission is complete, you did what you came to do. Now, you have to give up a man's life in hopes of saving yours.

You freeze.

—

Everything that happens afterwards is a blur. You only snap out of it when you feel the ship land and all engines shut off. You pull the hood of your robe over your head and rush down the aircraft and onto the landing platform.

Not even bothering to glance at the people waiting on the platform or turn to the familiar voice calling your name, you rush to your room and shut the door.

You quickly change out of your Jedi apparel and throw your lightsaber somewhere in the room. You shut off your comm-link, trying to get rid of everything that can currently remind you of the mission.

You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek. Whatever happened, happened. No point crying about it now. You tell yourself, but it’s not enough to stop the wave of emotions that’s building up in your mind.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes and your body starts to shake involuntarily. But you try your best to keep your composure, even though you know that you're alone, because that's what a Jedi should do, right?

But then you hear someone knock on your door and you can feel a familiar presence standing on the other side.

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?"

It's Obi-Wan, you realize.

"Open? Please? I can sense you in there, you know."

"Just– leave Obi-wan," You pause to take a shaky breath before continuing, "I need to be alone."

The truth is that being alone is the furthest thing from what you actually need. 'I need you' you want to say, 'I feel awful and I need you to take care of me'.

Obi-wan doesn't leave. Instead he sighs softly and, almost like reading your mind, says,

"(Y/N), I know you're not feeling well. Please let me in. Let me help you."

Hearing this makes you reach for the door handle, yet you don’t open immediately, second-thoughts rushing to the front of your mind. ‘What will he think if he sees me like this?’, you ponder for a moment, but all negative thoughts flee when you hear him call your name again. He wants to comfort you, help you, make you feel better. The softness of his voice and the sweetness of his words make that much obvious. And who are you to decline him?

You open the door.

Obi-wan smiles when he sees you, a genuinely affectionate smile that makes you feel warm inside. He steps in, closing the door behind him and you fall in his arms, desperate to feel the comfort he provides. His hands find their way around your body and he holds you close, one hand on your side, the other on your back.

The moment your tired body feels the warmth of his hug, every emotion you had been bottling up during the ride home spills out. You shake your head, letting tears run down your face, and you sob uncontrollably on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“I’m– I’m sorry,” You choke between ragged breaths, “I’m so sorry”

You’re not sure what exactly it is you’re apologizing for. But whether it’s the guilt and grief caused by the mission, the fear of potential repercussions, you feeling bad for making Obi-wan see you in this state or something else entirely, doesn't matter now.

Because Obi-wan is patient with you like he always is. He guides you towards your bed, letting both of you fall on the comfortable mattress. He takes off his robe, gently placing it around your shaking shoulders and you tug at the fabric, bringing it closer to your body. It smells like cedarwood and vanilla, it smells like Obi-wan, and his scent alone is enough to send away all intrusive thoughts that occupy your mind.

You’re engulfed by his smell, his warmth, his touch. He raises one arm to rub soothing circles on your back and that’s when his actions finally overwhelm you. His genuine worry, his unconditional care, it’s all too loving, too much. Your sobs come to a stop but you can’t look at him, not yet.

A shaky exhale escapes your lips and it immediately catches Obi-wan’s attention. He uses his free hand to cup your face, turning your head towards him and urging you to meet his eyes. When you do, you smile. You smile because you’re thankful. Thankful to have someone like him in your life, someone who cares about you to this extent. You smile because this has made you realize how truly important he is to you, how kind and caring and loving Obi-wan is, and how much you want to hug him and kiss him and love him properly.

Obi-wan is all you can see and feel and think about. And it feels more than perfect.

“Feel better?” He asks, voice barely a whisper, as to not startle you.

You nod, snuggling closer to his warm body. You take his hand in yours, placing it on your cheek again and holding it there, before speaking. “Thank you, Obi”

“Anytime, dear.”

The sudden use of the pet name makes you get butterflies in your stomach. It sounds so perfect coming from him and the only thing you can think about is how much you want to hear it again.

The tender moment doesn't last long before you feel him move under you. It seems like he is trying to get up, yet his movements are slow and careful, a sign he doesn’t really want to leave. “Wait,” You say, reaching for his sleeve and tugging at it, making him turn towards you.

“Can you stay? Please?” You question delicately, not wanting to make him feel obligated to spend the night with you.

Obi-wan hesitates. 'I shouldn’t,’ he thinks. ’The Jedi code prohibits affection, attraction, love. If I stay, I'm afraid I might not be able to resist my feelings. Holding (Y/N) like this, having them welcome my touch this way it’s– It’s already too much.‘

He closes his eyes, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘But after feeling this, I don’t think I want to resist them. I know I shouldn't give in, I must honor the code but– I don’t think I can live my life ignoring these feelings when I know how good surrendering to them feels.’

Obi-wan knows why affection is not allowed in a Jedi’s life. He understands the risks and dangers. But he can’t help the way he feels for you. He has loved you ever since you were Padawans and he tried to ignore his feelings– he really did, but it’s becoming more and more difficult. He can’t keep ignoring the way he feels when your hands accidentally brush against his, or when you talk to him about something you’re passionate about and your eyes light up. During missions he finds himself constantly glancing at you, making sure you’re safe, and he can’t help but want to spend more and more time with you when you return to the temple.

Of course, he doesn’t let these feelings get in the way of his duties. He has learned to live with them, balance them, and he makes sure to mask them whenever another Jedi is present. But deep down he knows he loves you, he needs you. And now he realizes that you need him too. You want him to stay over, you’re willing to risk a lot just for his company and maybe– just maybe, you two could forget the Jedi Code. Just for tonight. Just for a little bit.

“I’d love to.” Obi-wan smiles.

He lies beside you again and you take the chance to snuggle up against him. Obi-wan feels you burying your head in the crook of his neck and he circles an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. He uses the Force to lift a blanket off your bed and lets it fall over the both of you. You sigh at the warmth and Obi-wan presses his lips against your forehead delicately, leaving a light kiss behind.

You gather all the energy you have left in your sleepy state to mumble a ‘Good night, Obi’, and you feel him move closer, leaning his head on yours.

“Good night, dear.” He whispers.

And he falls asleep soon after, drifting off to the most peaceful sleep he has ever had.

—

"Hey."

You feel a hand shake you gently, a soothing touch waking you up. You know you should open your eyes, but you're far too comfortable and warm to care. You mumble something incoherent before turning, nuzzling your head closer to the pillow under you.

Except it isn't a pillow, you realize when it starts moving. You open one eyelid in confusion, gazing at the man under you. ‘It's not a pillow, it's Obi-Wan’, you realize, ‘and I’ve been sleeping on top of him’.

Your heart speeds up in realization and you can feel your stomach flutter. You stare at him, feeling heat immediately rise to your cheeks. He looks at you in confusion and lets his hand fall from your back.

"Did I overstep? I'm sorry. It's just– we fell asleep like this, I didn't want to move and risk waking you up." He says apologetically in response to your reaction.

"No, no. It's okay- It's more than okay, actually,"

You smile shyly, averting your eyes away from him—meeting his eyes again right now would surely make you melt.

Fragments of last night flood your mind. You broke down in his arms and he helped you, he comforted you like nobody has before. You can still feel the warmth of his cloak on your body and smell his soothing scent through the fabric. But it's stronger now, of course it is, he is holding you. Your face is inches from his chest and his arms are tightly wrapped around you.

According to the code this is wrong. Attachment is forbidden for a Jedi. But if that's the case, then why does it feel so right?

You stare at him, admiring him. Heat rises to your cheeks at the way he looks at you. He looks concerned, yet he’s still so inviting, so charming. His tongue quickly darts over his lips before he speaks and that action alone has you feeling weak.

“Are you okay?”

"Yeah, yeah. I just-" You let out a breathy laugh, "I haven't felt this happy in too long."

Obi-wan is taken aback by your confession. He’s surprised, in a good way, and he smiles. He runs his hand through his hair and, maker, does he look good. His hair is ruffled, loose strands frame his face and his beard is slightly messy. But he looks so effortlessly handsome, so damn attractive.

You decide to speak up again, taking the chance to thank him for everything he did for you yesterday.

"After the mission I- I didn't know what to do. I just felt awful y'know? I felt lost, and lonely. But then you came. And you helped me so much, Obi-wan,"

Speaking so truthfully, so open, it feels weird. A Jedi never talks about their feelings like this, and it's not something you're used to. But it's Obi-wan you're talking to, and you want to make him understand how much you appreciate him.

"I want to thank you. And not just for yesterday. You're always so good to me, Obi, and, I don't know, I guess I just want you to know that I'm truly grateful."

“You don’t have to thank me,” He says with a smile, “I really care about you, (Y/N).”

You nod in response and can’t help the smile that plays at your lips. When your eyes meet again, you can clearly see that he’s holding back from saying something. You tilt your head and hum, encouraging him to speak up.

"Do you want to talk about the mission?" Obi-wan asks, giving you time to answer without pressuring you.

You take a deep breath before speaking.

"I- I let a man die, Obi-wan." You pause, averting your eyes to the floor and swallowing the lump in your throat. "I thought I could be a good leader, but I'm not. I'm a failure."

"You're not a failure, darling." Obi-wan looks at you sympathetically, "You're smart, and brave, and so, so capable.” He pauses. “Not everything goes according to plan and that's okay. What happened– It's unfortunate. But it's not your fault. I'm sure you did the best you could."

"How can you know?" You snap at him, "I'm- I messed this up. I did. And someone died because of me. You weren't there Kenobi, so how can you know?"

Obi-wan looks at you like the answer to your question is the most obvious thing in the world. He tilts his head and takes your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You return the gesture, squeezing his hand back lightly, and his lips turn upwards when he feels it.

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again. He takes a deep breath, exhaling with a light awkward laugh that indicates it's hard for him to find the right words.

"Because I love you."

He smiles again and his grin causes his eyes to crinkle and light up. Your eyes are glued to his, only darting down to his lips for a moment when he licks them quickly. You stare at him in complete disbelief, not having processed that Obi-wan— the man you've been harboring feelings for for years, the poster boy of the Jedi order that puts the Code above all else, he just confessed to you.

"I love you, (Y/N). And I can’t ignore my feelings any longer."

Your eyes are still wide, mouth half-open and body rising in temperature. You want to respond, to hug him, kiss him, do something. But you can't talk, can't move. Your body feels stuck.

Obi-wan takes your silence as rejection. He looks away embarrassed, yet decides to speak up again.

"You don't have to reciprocate, I just– I needed you to know."

You force yourself to snap out of whatever trance you've fallen into. You blink a few times, making sure that this is real, that this is actually happening.

And you move closer, letting your lips linger inches away from his own just for a second before pressing them against his. Your mouths meet in a loving, delicate kiss and Obi-wan cups your face with his free hand, holding you close.

The need for air forces you to part but it's not long before you're tasting each other again. His tongue licks your bottom lip, asking for permission, and you open, letting him freely explore the insides of your mouth. You let out a soft moan at the contact and Obi-wan seems more than pleased by your reaction. His beard tickles you a little and you raise a hand to cup the side of his face, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“I love you too, Obi-wan,” You admit, letting your forehead rest against his.

He wraps his arms around you again and you rest your head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. No more words need to be said. As you lie there with Obi-wan, it seems like the order, the code, the whole galaxy fade away. It’s just you and him, and it’s more than perfect.

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#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi x reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan fic

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oliverthedectective · 9 months

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Chapter One:

~Not Stanley~

Trigger Warnings: This story holds elements of both existential, psychological, and other horror elements. Especially in the beginning of the story. This includes feelings of dysphoria, memory loss, dread, and physical and psychological pain. Please be aware of this and stop now if you can not handle these potential topics at this time. Please take care of yourself! Your health is more important than my silly little story.

Reminder: This is not a completed chapter! Just a little sneak peak posted with the intent to get some feedback! This is an ongoing story.

“This is a story about a man named Stanley.”

I groggily thought about how weird it was to hear such a voice as a blaring headache forced my eyes to tighten even furthur. Even still I forced my eyes to open, quickly blocking the bright lights out of my eyes with a hand to my forehead. I squinted as I waited for my eyes to re-adjust, feeling rather confused, the lights in my room had never been this bright before. My bleary eyes finally widened as I noticed an out of place computer that was certainly not mine, considering it was one that would normally be seen in office sitcoms set in the 90’s..

My head snapped from side to side of the office space in an attempt to get my bearings. As my eyes landed on a deciding factor of my situation I found my feet subconsciously taking a few steps backwards, my heels knocking into the back of the wheely chair which caused me to almost stumble down. I had just narrowly avoided falling back by catching myself with a decisive grip on the desk besides me. The fall inducing lettering continued to stare into my soul with its bright yellow coloring, if it wasn’t for its placement, then it would’ve held little to no significance. As it stood, the four hundred and twenty seven was the number of a man named Stanley, and showed me exactly where I had ended up.

The Stanley Parable. A hit game created and written by the developers Davey Wreden and William Pugh. A story about Stanley and the many paths he could take within these closed walls, but I was not Stanley. Taking a glance down at my hands, the world seemed to swirl around me as I made an awful discovery. My hands were no longer my own, they were distorted, twisted and utterly perverted from their original form. I snapped my head over to the computer rushing over and slamming my, well someone's hands, upon the desktop, the phone and stacked papers rattling at the impact. I stared desperately into the blank screen that only held a bright green blinking cursor, only to see a face filled with horror stare back at me, as I reached my hand out I saw the movement reflected back at me. My facial expression sank as the realization hit me like a sack of bricks. I was Stanley.

I gasped softly backing up, a hand taking hold of the side of my skull as I struggled to comprehend the situation I found myself in. Logically this could all be chalked up to a dream, a nightmare, if not for the feeling of my head beneath my fingertips and the ragged breaths escaping from me at an uneven pace. Through rough breaths I glanced around for an out, a way to leave, an open door. The solution was found through an open door on my left which opened up to the familiar sight of the office’s of Stanley’s missing co-workers. As I gripped the door handle with Stanley’s hands, the cooling sensation of the knob rained down my veins, causing a shiver to run up my spine. I had never considered myself a coward per say, although this was certainly a time for a change. I thought as I slammed the door closed in front of me.

As Stanley’s hand still gripped the handle, I closed my eyes and considered my actions, I had just trapped myself into one of the quickest endings of the game. The so-called Coward ending.

“But Stanley simply couldn’t handle the pressure.” The entirely recognizable voice rang out through the room. “What if he had to make a decision? What if a crucial outcome fell under his responsibility.”

The same voice-lines that I originally looked up and down for within the original game came back to haunt me in some twisted form of wish fulfillment. I turned Stanley’s head up to the ceiling in hope of some acknowledgement, in hopes that maybe, I could be seen.

“He had never been trained for that.” The voice unknowingly continued cruelly. “No, this couldn’t go anywhere except badly.”

These words held a haunting reality that I may have to face within the coming moments, for truly, I had no idea of the potential outcomes of my actions. This could end up being the decision that causes my ultimate death. I shivered as fear crept up my spine as I realized the horrible decision I had just done. Locking myself in this room with no escape, no idea what would happen to me if the game reset. With everyone none the wiser of my current predicament.

“The thing to do now, Stanley thought to himself, is to wait.”

No, that’s the last thing I should be doing.

“Nothing will hurt me.”

I don’t know that.

“Nothing will break me.”

It already has.

“In here I can be happy, forever.”

No! Can’t you see?

“I will be happy.”

I’m terrified...

“Stanley waited. Hours passed.” The voice rumbled against my silent pleas.

I hurriedly ran around the room trying to find some way to prevent the inevitable outcome, slamming Stanley’s hands across the keyboard, trying to type something. Say something! But the keys did not respond, no letters showed up on the ever blinking monitor, feeling desperate I ran back over to the closed door. Roughly jiggling the doorknob beneath Stanley’s finger’s, silently saying sorry to Stanley, as I started to ram his shoulder into the door in a desperate attempt to make it budge. It didn’t even make a sound.

“Then days.” A tingling sensation started to form at the back of my skull. “Had years gone by? He no longer had the ability to tell.”

I felt dizzy as I stumbled the world shifting around my eyes, the world started blacking around the edges, as a pressure started pushing down on my chest. Has this room always been this dark? Am I going crazy? I tried to take in a lungful of breaths as breathing became harder and harder to accomplish. I felt my legs give out beneath me as I fell to the ground my hands slayed open upon the carpeted ground.

“But the one thing he knew for sure, beyond any doubt, was that if he waited long enough, the answers would come.”

Would they? I wanted to ask but no words would come out, I was just as mute as the original Stanley had been. I closed my eyes as another bout of dizziness overcame me, feeling my stomach churn at the sensation, my head limply sunk further towards my chest as the Narrator continued his spiel.

“Eventually some day they would arrive.” The words reverberated around the tiny office space. “Soon, very soon now, this will end.”

I felt my body shake in defiance trying to take one more stance, to not give up, to try and stop the ending. I slammed my rolled up fists upon the ground, opening up my mouth in a desperate attempt to scream, to make him realize that I was alive and suffering!... but the sounds never came as the words continued to flow around my brain.

“He will be spoken to.” The words tore into my heart, speaking of my exact desires at this moment. To be seen, really seen, not as the body I had been shoved into… but as me.

I felt my body collapse to the ground fully, curled up in the fetal position of pain, nausea, and fear. The last bits of energy spent in a desperate attempt to reach out to the man who was out of sight, who was just a voice; and yet, was my only hope at survival.

“He will be told what to do.” The voice seemed to spit out, annoyance dripping off of every word.

I begin to wonder what would’ve happened if I just followed, listened to the Narrator’s words, and his story to the true ending. I closed my eyes fiercely trying to fight back against those negative thoughts but they just kept coming like waves up against a tide. If I hadn’t been a coward and tried to get out of the story as soon as possible, would I be looking across the green pastures filled with trees and nature.

“Now it’s just a little bit closer…”

The brief silence was deafening, hearing the soft humming ambiance of the whirling machinery of the office. Unfortunately the only thing coming closer to me was my inevitable death, as I tried to suck in another breath, only to realize I was no longer gaining any oxygen. I wanted to panic, to try and fight, but I no longer had the energy to do so. Leaving my last conscious action to be the tears that poured from these eyes.

“Now it’s even closer!” The Narrator spoke in an almost uncharacteristically excited tone.

~~“Here it comes”~~

The End Is Never The End Is Never The----

#tsp narrator x reader #narrator x reader #fanfic #drabble

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queerofthedagger · 1 month

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there are many things that stayed with me from your fics and Ygraine is one of them. I didn't really give her much thought outside of 'even if it's full of love all the ghost can do is haunt' narrative, but the realization that you gave me that all the ghosts not only were but still are people. and even while haunting she STILL is a person... when I think about her watching arthur drown in guilt that isn't his and being so ANGRY I need 5-7 business days to recover no joke. she's one of my faves now THANK YOU

Oh my god thank you SO much, that's just about the best compliment you could have given me. I find Ygraine such a fascinating character on so many levels and she just has come to sneak into most of my Merlin fics in one way or another; frankly, I don't think you can really Get Arthur as a character without puzzling through his relationship (or rather lack thereof) with his mother.

Also I do need you to know that "even while haunting she STILL is a person" hit me like a sack of bricks. Like!!! YEAH!!!!!!! We talk about her always as Arthur's mother or Uther's wife or or or, but first and foremost she was a person!!! like!!!! aughhh

#answered asks #mona rambles #colsvo #bbcm #ygraine de bois #thank you again this made my days <3

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juicingbeetles · 13 days

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Watched the new Dungeon Meshi and Oh My Lord the argument between Shuro and Laois hit me like a sack of edible bricks. Laois is so autistic, he misses social cues, he doesnt notice ppl dont like him or are annoyed. Theres something so magical about a character like this, he is so me. Growing up I missed social cues and often assumed ppl were my friends despite them implying they didnt want me around or leaving me out. I will ramble about my special interests to general annoyance and mocking, but I wont realize everyone is making fun of me.

People assume maliciousness from Laois but he appears to simply not know he could be percieved that way. He is such a good guy but hes so oblivious and idk but that resonates so much with me.

I did not expect to be attacked in this way while watching the funny monster show

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

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arcticlegend · 2 years

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Dante, Vergil, Nero, V and their SO decide to do the deed in public and being charged with public indecency The DMC guys getting caught (literally!😜 ) with their pants down is hilarious to me 😁 😆.

Finally done!!! Sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy this as much as i do lol

❤️Don't forget to like, reblog, or comment!❤️

*Gasp* Getting... Caught?!!!

🔥(Nsfw)🔥

-Dante-

It’s body fell with an earth shattering thud, one that had you almost losing your balance in the aftershock. Its head had landed with a significantly softer sound that could be described like a giant sack of flour hitting the ground, but meatier. It left you exhausted, staring down at the beast in utter shock that you’d even been able to best it at all. If Dante wasn’t there, you probably wouldn’t have won.

You looked up at him, his shoulders tense as his bloody sword’s dripping was all that could be heard after everything was said and done. It was like a tree had fallen in the forest and returned to silence. When he turned back to you, eyes red, your breath caught in your throat. There was a fiery passion that literally seared within him, threatening to sweep you up in the wave. You could feel the need pooling in your gut as you gazed upon him, loving the rivers of blood that webbed over his skin, streaked over his muscles, blossomed in his clothes. In a similar state, you could also feel the hot stickiness of the demon’s life drying in your hair, thick on your cheeks. The eye contact felt like chains binding you, wrapped around you iron hot and leaving you wanting, needing him.

In only a moment, he was on you, gloved hands gripping your hair with a desperate force as he smashed his lips into yours, hungrily devouring your mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. It was like your lips were something he needed to survive, as if he’d die without his mouth on yours. He tore at your clothes, shucking your pants down before working at his own belt, wanting to be inside of you as soon as humanly possible.

He pressed your face into the cold brick of the building. His rock hard dick sliding over the soft skin of your ass; he groaned deep in is throat as he began to rut against you like an animal.

“Dan-! DANTE!” you cried out, not thinking, mind empty as all you could process was the demanding need in your crotch.

“I got you, baby. Sweet, perfect baby… gonna make you full… gonna make you all mine.”

He shoved deep inside of you, pain and pleasure intermingling within each other as he took what he wanted. It hurt, but something about this side of him aroused you to no end, the pain ebbing in to something burning hot. Hearing his ragged breaths, his desperate whines right in your ear had you falling apart for him.

“Fuck baby, you’re so good. Perfect… Look so good covered in blood. Watching you kill that thing?... Has me so fucking hard for you.”

You keened with pleasure, arching into the wall with each thrust, the scratch of the brick against your nipples only making the blaze ignite hotter within you.

“You did most of it… I- OH GOD~ … I stole your kill.”

He chuckled warmly and pressed his lips to your ear lobe.

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. I let you have it.”

He picked up his pace, pressing you harder into the wall, his hips slapping into your ass. His cock dragged over all the right places, hitting deep inside of you with every pounding. It made the arousal come to a head, made your orgasm just start to build. You weren’t close yet, but you could feel the heat in your stomach begin to twist just right, the feeling of your breath affecting every wave of pleasure crashing over you.

A shriek from behind startled the both of you, Dante pulling away to summon his sword, pointing it straight at the woman covering her face. Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach like a stone in a pond, realizing that this woman had just seen you both fucking while covered in blood.

“So uh… The demon is dealt with. We are… still getting paid, right?”

The next day, there was a knock at the door of Devil May Cry and lets just say that the fine took that paycheck and then some.

>Vergil<

“Gosh, these have to be the best seats in the house! How in the hell did you get balcony seats?! These have to be so expensive!” he smirked at you, those cute dimples forming in his cheeks. You could see that mischievous look in his eye and knew he was absolutely up to no good.

“The owner of this theatre owed me a favor. I simply cashed in for it. I wanted you to watch this one with me. I thought you’d maybe find it appealing.”

The play so far had been pretty good. It was very dark, but had hopeful moments. It felt a lot like your life with Vergil before, where the two of you had made mistakes and your relationship- his life had almost been the cost. Even in the coldest parts, there was a warmth, the warmth of her presence still guiding the main character through his strife to eventually find her again. Yeah. He knew why you would find it so appealing. You didn’t hesitate to slide your hand into his and gave him a reassuring smile that you did indeed love the play.

In fact, you were so touched by it that you started to feel aroused. It turned you on to know that he loved you this much. There was something in the way he looked at you, how he viewed this play as a reflection of his relationship with you, that made you emotional. If it was true, then you could only tear up as the man sung of his desire for her company, his need to hold her and love her. He sang of his desire to be held and it made you want Vergil inside of you more than anything.

You gave his hand one more squeeze before pulling away to squeeze his thigh instead, drawing a quiet gasp from him. Wasting no time, you kissed his neck, sucking sweet bruises into his skin that you knew would soon disappear. Your leg swung over his lap and you finally took his lips, moving in tandem with the sultry sound of the play’s main actor, crying out in need of the one he loved.

“Verge, I need you… I need you inside me, darling… please,” you whined into his ear as you ground your ass into his lap, rubbing your most intimate parts against his own in a blind heat. Vergil wasn’t one to do these kinds of things in a public setting, rather preferring to keep these private activities in the bedroom or at the least in the house. However, you both were supposed to be the only ones on this balcony seating, so why not? He seemed to have come to that conclusion as well since it didn’t take him very long to undo the buckle of his belt and slide down the zipper of his dark leather pants.

“I have you, love… I’ll give it to you… everything you need.”

He helped you pull down your own pants, rubbing his long fingers over your hole, teasing the entrance before pushing his finger in. Usually, Vergil was very quiet when beginning any intimate moments, but here was different. The setting, the words of the song that played below them, his hot, desperate arousal made his breath hitch right along with yours. He was quick to add fingers, pumping them deep inside you and you ground against him as he did, leaving you a pathetic, mewling mess for him.

“Verge! Verge please… I need you! I want you inside…”

He grinned dangerously through that rose colored cloud of lust, a gaze you knew meant he wanted to tease you. He wanted specifics.

“I am inside of you, my love. Are you wanting something else?”

Fuck, you thought as you desperately rut into his hand.

“I want your cock… I need your cock, Vergil, please!”

Only because you behaved so well for him, he replaced those dexterous fingers with his thick, swollen cock, sliding it so deep within you that you had to cover your mouth, your moan muffled underneath your hand. You couldn’t move as you processed the raw pleasure that quaked through your body at the delicious stretch. Of course, if you weren’t able to start, he would happily pick up the slack. With his hands under your ass, he lifted you effortlessly and dropped you back down onto his dick, making a mouthwatering pace that left you speechless. The only sounds that left you were your pathetic whines that you muffled into his vest.

His lips were parted next to your cheek, hot air fanning over you as his breath had quickened, a sweet grunt slipping through grit teeth had your insides twisting with need.

“Verge, so… fucking good! It’s so deep, love! If you keep this up, I’ll cum soon…”

He whined at your words, his cock twitching and getting hard at the thought of you cumming around him.

“Um… Sir?”

You both froze and you shoved your face deep into his neck, ashamed to have been caught. How in the hell did they know? No one else was supposed to be up here?!

“I’m sorry to… um… interrupt, but this kind of behavior is not allowed in this theater and I must ask you to leave. There are security officers downstairs waiting to speak to you.”

He rolled his eyes and asked the person to leave so they could become decent.

“I’m sorry, Verge… This is all my fault.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at you.

“Don’t worry. You don’t miss much after this scene. I still have connections. We wont be banned from this place long.”

÷Nero÷

Nero sat down beside you, put his cola in the holder, and adjusted to get more comfortable. The wall lights were still on. The giant screen before you played the usual ads at the start of the film and you waited impatiently for the movie to start. He’d been really busy in the past month, not really having time to spend with you as the jobs kept piling on. He promised he’d make it up to you and this was the perfect way to start. You had to plan this movie a week in advance and now that it was finally here, you couldn't he happier.

He gave you that adorable, bashful smile and pressed a buttery piece of popcorn to your lips. After you took it into your mouth, he sealed the loving gesture with a quick peck. You practically swooned over him, his tough guy demeanor that crumbled the moment you smiled at him. You didn’t even need to mention that you found him attractive. He just had that perfect jock body- those broad shoulders, thick arms and muscled back that had you melting into a pool on the floor.

“You’re so cute.” You whispered to him as the lights began to dim, the title of the movie appearing on the screen. The red burned on his cheeks even through the shadow of the dark room and the bright light of the screen.

“Yeah, well, say what you want…” he looked away, finding interest in the neat, folding design of the walls.

“I think I will. After all, big guy, you can’t be the one to have all the fun, hm?”

You squeezed his thigh and slowly dragged your palm higher, brushing over the top of his pants. He shivered at your touch and his fists gripped the armrests with white knuckles. Nero’s eyes met yours, taking up your challenge.

“You’re right. It’d be awfully rude of me to just take everything all to myself, now wouldn’t it?”

You went for his zipper like a moth to flame, pulled down the offending thing. You needed to tug it down and out of the way of your prize. He wore those black boxers, the ones that hugged his toned thighs so deliciously. It wasn’t difficult to free his cock from the confines of those tantalizing boxer shorts and you relished in the sweet hiss that slipped between his clenched teeth when your hand stroked the bare skin of his cock. He was so unbelievably hard. You could feel the veins ripple under your fingers, his cock straining hard with every other stroke. The fact that you were in a theatre with people just a couple rows down only made the sensation better and you knew he loved this. Nero was a troublemaker, though he was shy and wouldn’t really want to get caught, he got a thrill from it.

Nero wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer so he could nuzzle his cheek into your hair, his quickened breaths were warm on your scalp. he occasionally pressed his lips to your temple when your hand treated especially good.

“Babe, your killing me here… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Ah, playing the good boy? Sure.

“Come on, Nero… I want to repay you for all the hard work you do. I want to thank you for taking me out to such a nice movie.”

His breath was caught in his throat when he watched your hand slip over your own crotch to tease yourself in front of him and that…? That made him snap.

He quickly gripped your shirt and stood you up to bend you over the chair in front of you, quietly of course. You didn’t want to get caught so early on in the movie. The sound of his pants hitting the floor was like a bell to a hungry dog, your arousal pooling thick in your gut. He moved for yours like a starved animal, pulling them down over your ass to reveal the sweet hole he was going to ruin.

He teased you with his fingers to stretch you, teeth dug into your shoulder and you had to bite your knuckles to keep quiet.

“Nero! Nero, please!” you whispered as quietly as you could, and hoped the sounds of the movie’s music would overpower your whines. Like the sweet boy he was, he listened and gave into your begging.

“Here it is, babe.”

He pressed into you, your mouth slack as he filled your slick hole, the girth of his cock dragging over your insides with a friction that only served to ignite that damned arousal within you. You thought it would help sate you, but instead it only made you crave more. You needed it harder and faster, needed his cock to fuck you til you couldn’t function. This damned theatre full of people meant that he couldn’t do that, couldn’t pound away at you til you could only babble in pure bliss.

You wanted to say his name, wanted to cry out for him to go faster, but instead he kept that same slow pace, not wanting to attract attention. That might have been too late, you thought as you heard the door to the room close. Whatever. They might have went to the bathroom. Didn’t mean you had been caught yet.

He squeezed your hips, fingertips pressing into your pelvic bone as he rutted into you, the soft sound of his skin against your ass made you pulse around him, the need to cum growing ever so quick, but like most quickies in public, sometimes it just wasn’t meant to be.

You heard the door open again in the center, very back of the theatre and moments after that, Nero was shuddering, dumping his huge load into you. Strangled moans were muffled into the sleeve of his coat as he pressed every shot of cum as deep as he could inside of you. The feeling of him filling you with seed was something that couldn’t be beat. It was a feeling you craved so much that sometimes you didn’t even care about cumming. All you needed was that powerful feeling of knowing you could make this man fall apart at the seems, the feeling of him pumping you full of cum and failing to hold back the sounds of his pleasure as he did so? That was a high all on its own.

“Sir? We need you and your partner to pull up your pants and come with me. We cannot allow this behavior in our facility. Please leave.”

Nero’s face fell to that of absolute horror. He had never been caught doing this kind of thing before, so you could only imagine the inner turmoil your lover was feeling as you both were led away to the lobby of the theatre.

As you both stood outside the theatre waiting for the police officer that was called for public indecency, you started laughing.

“What in the hell are you laughing about? This is serious! Dante and Ver- my father… they’re gonna kill me for this. They’re never gonna let this go.”

You sighed, feeling bad that you had instigated this, having been the one to jerk him in the first place, but wasn’t sorry. You knew he liked it and you told him as much.

“You’d do it again, Nero.”

He tried to be upset, but rolled his eyes and smirked, trying to hide the look of agreement in those eyes.

When you both got out of this, you would do it… again and again.

~V~

He stood beside you as the guitars growled in unison, the drums beat, and the bass rumbled above you. The lead singer’s voice was deep, speaking strongly for the verses and crying out for the chorus. Dark, ragged cries of a cruel and melancholic tale that spun from the his vocals only gave the song more depth. It made you think, sent you on a rollercoaster of emotions with every line, every powerful riff that compelled you to rock your head forward or tap your foot to the unforgettable beat.

He was there beside you, listening to the music, though not getting quite as into it as you were, was definitely intrigued by the poetic verses of each song that played. He had never heard of this band before and though you both didn’t share the same taste in music, he was more than happy to come along and learn more about things you loved. When the concert ended, he held your hand as you excitedly told him about which ones were your favorite, which ones were presented the best. You rambled on about the meanings of each song, how you enjoyed the lights and the pyrotechnics. You could tell by that loving look in his eye that he enjoyed every second.

"You say it was about a child that couldn’t comprehend his emotions…”

You nodded, explaining the story behind the song, about how the boy had watched his sister’s murder and that the boy, being so young, didn’t understand how he felt, so he destroyed the doll she had given him.

“It was delightfully horrifying how he sang it. The pain in his voice sounded nearly real.”

Happiness bubbled in your chest. Not many people usually cared to discuss things you liked whether it be music, movies, anything you loved really… Though your topic of choice was very dark and terrible, you couldn’t help but feel arousal at the thought of him actually caring enough to discuss your interests.

“Yeah! His performances are incredible! He’s very theatric on stage and I’m so happy to have finally seen it in person!”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, bright green eyes full of tender admiration, “I’m happy to have been able to come along with you. This was a delightful experience.”

Fuck, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to have him.

Squeezing his hand back tighter, you tugged him into a nearby alleyway. He was shocked, unsure of what was going on, but you knew that was to change very soon when you dropped to your knees before him. A hand on each hip, you pressed him back into the cold brick and worked the button and zipper of his pants.

“What-! What are you doing?!” he sputtered as you pulled out his half hard cock. Normally you jerked him to full thickness, but this time you just wanted him in your mouth at all costs, not caring if he wasn’t quite there yet. He would be.

His moans were like sweet syrup to your ears, rolling down your spine. It was like kindling, strengthening the fire growing deep in your belly, shooting straight down into your crotch. You sucked his cock, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin on your lips, how your saliva coated him with each time you took him deep in your mouth. You wouldn’t be able to for long, because the harder he got, the longer he got. It was nearly impossible to take all of him in one go unless you planned on holding your breath.

“My love, we shouldn’t do this here. Please lets just get home and we can finish this-!”

One particularly hard suck had his knees buckling, your tongue had swept over him just right and sucked him back in, dragged him over your tongue and the roof of your mouth. His plush lips were parted so perfect as he moaned for you. You wanted to comment on how absolutely wrecked he looked already, but of course your mouth was a little too busy.

Your lower regions ached with every little thrust of his hips, every push of his cock head to the back of your throat. It drove you mad how he stroked his fingers through your hair, feeling the warm metal of the ring on your skin.

“This is so good, darling… so good, but I need to be inside. I want to be inside of you, dearest.”

You take him down your throat as deep as he could go before pulling back with a sweet little pop. He was fucking delectable how he stood above you, staring down. His cheeks were dusted with red, the black locks falling into his eyes, and the gentle stretch of his ribcage with every deep, ragged inhale.

He had you against the wall, facing him, your pants shoved down off one leg, after all, he needed to lift that leg up if he wanted to bury deep inside that tight little hole of yours.

“V! Please hurry, V!”

He pulled had his pants down just under his ass and ground his cock against your crotch, and you savored he sweet friction he gave you and as much as you wanted to him to take his time, you really just needed to feel him deep inside of you.

“V!” you keened, stretching his name out with your desperate moan, wordlessly begging him to please just fuck you, please just shove that perfect cock into your needy little hole.

As if he could read your mind, he complied, pressing the head of his cock in nice and slow. It made you crazy with lust, incinerated your stomach with the mix of pain and blinding white pleasure as he finally filled that emptiness and sated that desperate need. Yes, it sated one need and then awakened another. Now the mission wasn’t to be filled, it was to cum. If he kept up this pace, with this angle, it wouldn’t be long. He had this look on his face, too, one that meant that he wasn’t very far behind.

He pounded into you, his teeth bared, sweat dripping down his forehead. Silky black strands stuck to his slick skin.

“You’re so beautiful… so perfect for me… You pull my strings and make me sing.”

Oh he cant say things like that…

“My sweet dove, bringing me peace with each crash, every wave of pleasure with the beat of your wings.”

You moan as you feel him get harder inside of you. He’s going to cum. The arousal floods your brain, but soon crashes like a plate shattering on the floor.

“You cant do that back here. This is a public place. I’m going to have to ask you to become decent and please follow me.”

It was an officer, a flushed and flustered one at that. You weren’t sure how much she’d seen, but it was enough that she couldn’t even meet your eyes.

V was bright red, looking down at the ground as he buttoned his pants. Shame sunk into your gut, but there was still something else, something even hotter. You were still so fucking turned on that not even getting caught could help you. In fact, it only made it worse.

Luckily, you both only got off with a slap on the hand and a hefty fine for public indecency.

“So… uh… about yesterday…”

He gave you that naughty little smirk and it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt. You had a feeling you’d be doing it again very soon.

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