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its3nvy · 5 months

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"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;)

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

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Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you.

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed.

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy.

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails.

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes.

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve.

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat.

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers.

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form.

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you.

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice.

“Whatever you want, doll.”

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin.

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body.

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch. He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this.

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock.

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you.

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away.

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb.

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest. With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william bonney #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #wear the hat ride the cowboy #save a horse ride a cowboy

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muteddreamssilentscreams · 1 year

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Sophie Potrykus liked my instagram comment 🤩

#queer ascension is imminent #chaos brain

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yanderenightmare · 7 months

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Meaner callous Gojo with cursed spirit darling pleeease :(

Gojo Satoru

TW: slight NSFW, noncon/dubcon, blood/gore, death of curses, abduction and captivity, mentions of previously maltreated captives and their deaths

gn reader

“Huh? I didn’t see you.” The man with the white hair said casually, holding a drippy head by the scruff of their scalp – having torn it clean off the body that now lay gushing in a pool of its own sticky red insides. Still warm but lifeless.

You’d been hiding amongst the other remains. Your mind struggling to cope with the chaos surrounding you, so lost that the thought of running away hadn’t even had the time to surface yet – having left you wading around in the blood and guts aimlessly – soaked through and through with death and chilled to your own weary brittle bones.

The end was imminent, and you couldn’t wrap any of your thoughts together to either accept or deny it.

He dropped the head in his fist with an unceremonious splash and took long strides – in front of you sooner than you could bat an eye, much less crawl away or decide if you were going to try and fight him off before it was too late – before he had his long fingers curled around your throat, lifting you up off your feet.

“No wonder~” He laughed. “You’re so weak; I couldn’t sense your cursed energy at all~”

He was frivolous while you cacked for air, kicking your feet beneath you, trying to pry his hand from your neck with such weak effort it was pitiful to watch.

And yet he remained unfazed by the pathetic struggle, only offering a slant of his head while eyeing you up and down – his orbs going from a stark neon to a simple sky blue as he released his technique. Holding you up simply with his own sheer strength.

“Hm…” He hummed then, tilting his head to the other side, now with a thoughtful pout on his lips. He brought his other hand up to rub his chin as though he was debating something. “Be a shame to kill you, really…”

You remained gasping for breath as he mused – but only for another short moment until you felt him pause in his squeezing, loosening the chokehold right before your head could squish free from the rest of your body.

“You’ll make such a pretty new trophy.”

He was smiling, but it was far from kind – though he let go of your throat entirely, letting you drop to your hands and knees, spluttering with coughs – staring at your own reflection in the crimson bath beneath you. Able to spot how terribly panicked you looked before you felt him loop an arm around your stomach – lifting you, then beaming the two of you away.

You’re still in shock when you’re dropped to a different floor someplace else only a moment later – and though the marble is much colder than the blood you’d been sitting in prior, it isn’t the reason you’re shaking. Rather, it’s the recurring flashes of fellow curses being leveled like trampled grapes – in the dozens by a single sorcerer who hadn’t even broken a sweat. One who’d bore a smile the entire time.

“Come on now, pretty curse-” The man dismissed, seemingly completely disconnected from the turmoil of your trauma. “Say hie to your new home~”

This time he grabbed you by your tunic, holding it by the neck as he dragged you along further into the room with him until he sat down on a plush sofa there – pulling you into his lap to straddle him.

You didn’t resist – you didn’t do anything – shell-shocked into a plaint stillness while struggling to accept the truth behind all the stickiness that had your skin coated and shivering with growing cold.

His face was also splattered with different shades – some red, some blue, some purple. You wonder what shade yours was with a tremble in your throat as he reached out to thumb your chin, angling it as he got in close with his lips tugged in a grin.

“The last pet I kept ended up dying of hunger. It didn’t behave right, so I had to starve it.” He revealed – bright eyes gleaming – rendering you further scrambled in thought, unable to grasp what he was saying or that he was even talking to you.

You just blinked blankly in return.

“Can you talk? Or are you an even weaker curse than I thought?” He asked then – cocking his head down and sideways – leering up at you with an eerie twinkle that made you tense with a small whimper.

You hiccupped, lip quivering – suddenly reeled back to reality by the bite of his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Uhm- I…” Your voice was weak in your throat, breaking before it amounted to much more, feeling so thin under his heavy gaze while he peered at you without blinking. “I talk…” was all you were able to squeak out in the end.

“Oh- good. I was afraid you couldn’t understand me. But I see~ you’re just in shock ‘cause I obliterated all your friends.” His smile widened, and you paled even more in light of it.

Swallowing thickly. Now with the numbness of the shock finally dying down, you were allowed to process your fear more entirely – resulting in tears welling and running down your cheeks in quick rivulets – breaths picking up speed until they tripped into each other on their way free.

“Oh- don’t cry~” He chuckled, watching you break down – your swiveled eyes looking at your blood-soaked hands, trembling at the sight.

He ran his hand up from your chin to cup your face, his smile tugged into a toothy smirk – amused by your meltdown – and even happier when your eyes snapped to return his, glistening with fear and the blitz of panic.

“Be a good little curse for me, and I won’t hurt you like I did the others.” He offered suggestively, planting his forehead against yours while getting lost in that beautiful look riddling your face.

Completely relaxed and comfortable – flirty as he rubbed the small of your back almost soothingly, gliding up slowly beneath the fabric of your tunic. He used no pressure – being featherlight with fine fingertips – as though in mockery of how he’d easily reached in and torn hearts out of ribcages only a moment earlier.

You swallowed again. Feeling caged by the serene blue staring back at you.

“How… how do I do that?” You asked him timidly, and he marveled at how human you looked – chewing your bloated lip with such pretty misty eyes peeled at him.

You weren’t much of a curse at all, he thought with another laugh – licking his teeth at how obediently you sat in wait on his lap – more like a little animal than anything else – wounded in the hands of its hunter.

“Follow my lead.” He answered your question hotly, his eyes glinting with something playful but equally sick and sadistic as he stroked your lips with his blood-stained fingers – eagerly watching your little nose twitch at the scent while he pushed two of the digits onto the wet bed of your tongue. “Can you do that, pretty curse?”

You offered only an uneasy whimper, tasting the cursed blood with cinched brows.

It visibly aroused him, making his lips tug at the corners – leveling you with his keen stare as though daring you to do anything but submissively lick the fingers clean.

There’s always been something very sweetly satisfying about forcing a curse to please him. Due to them being purely selfish in nature, it becomes torture in and of itself to make them serve anyone other than themselves.

But strange as it was, observing you, he couldn’t decide if it pained you the same way he’d come to recognize after breaking his many previous pets…

Maybe you’re just a little slow on the uptake. You do seem a little confused, as though his cruelty has you asking yourself why at every turn instead of making you feel the normal rage that most curses fall instinctively to. They all always look at him with such searing hatred, but you’re just… he can’t exactly place the expression as you allow his fingers to rest on your tongue.

Suppose… well… you look as though you’re getting a little shy.

It's a funny thing to witness in a curse. It would have been normal if it were chagrin, but it doesn’t really have that temper to it.

“Wow~ I didn’t know curses could be this humble~” He drawled then, still playing with the wet warmth of your plushy tongue. “Most of you put up a fight- too proud to understand your own good.” He squinted his eyes, finding it more and more strange how you hadn’t tried to bite him yet – even as he split his digits like a scissor and traced the points of your teeth. “Guess you’re just better at knowing your place, huh?”

He withdrew from your mouth and dropped the hand to your collar – dancing the pale spit-slicken digits there as though to remind your throat of its former grip around it.

You flinched when he pulled you onto his bulge; breath caught in your throat and kept there as he pressed his smile onto your lips in a kiss.

His chest rumbled with something guttural, sighing into your mouth with rowdy hunger.

You fumbled, taken aback – but he followed until you accepted it. Then his hand ran further up your back, lifting your shirt on the way.

“Up with your hands~” He guided, and you, though trembling and confused, listened all the same – raising your arms so he could pull the article off over your head. “Good curse~” He purred – right before laying his tongue out flat on your newly exposed skin, licking along the blood stains on your chest.

You’d probably cringe if it didn’t horrify you first. How he moaned at the taste and strengthened his hold, grinding up into you with his hips – pressing you down against himself.

Lifting his head, he attacked your lips again and you allowed it, tasting the blood left on both your tongues as he pushed his inside along yours – exploring your mouth with sounds so hungry they made you whimper in return.

Your bottoms were ripped off suddenly, leaving you naked while cold fingers peppered over the fat of your hips until stationing themselves there firmly, carding into the plush and rolling you over his clothed bump. Hissing at the feel, he bit your lip. And while you whined from the sting it left, he tore open his jacket and wrung it off fast, tossing it somewhere behind you.

Beneath it, he revealed a pristine silk button-up – as white and shiny as his hair – looking out of place against the blood splatter on his skin.

“Come on, make yourself useful-” He groaned with heat, nodding suggestively to his chest, taking your hands and placing them close to his throat – again, as though trying to tempt you into doing something stupid.

But you ignore the bait, undoing the buttons instead of throttling his neck – as though the thought didn’t even cross your mind.

He kept you riding his crotch – his mouth going to your chest again, sucking your nipples into his mouth. Making your job hard, where your hands kept stilling with the need to clutch something.

But eventually, all his buttons were done up – opening to a firm torso of chiseled alabaster abs. No scars to prove he’d ever struggled. Just fair skin lacking a single lasting blemish.

“Like what you see?” He snickered lowly, having caught you staring.

You didn’t know what to say, but either way, any words were caught in your throat as he spun you on your back, bearing down on you with his hand returning to your neck.

He’d found it strange, but now he found it worrying. Vision clouded with heat though still trustworthy, he couldn't help but conclude that you weren’t going to fight him at all.

But that just didn’t make any sense.

“What makes you so eager to please, huh?” He asked then, a lilt in his voice as he crept closer – leaning until his bangs brushed your forehead. “What type of curse are you, exactly…”

You pressed your lips together, bowing your head – having dreaded the question.

“It’s embarrassing, I’d rather not say…” You tried, but the sorcerer wouldn’t allow it – holding you captive with his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking.”

You trembled some but had it on your tongue, and then he tightened the fist on your throat and squeezed the truth out of you.

“Weakness...” You finally let slip, feeling the humiliation tickle up your spine – making you goosefleshed where you lay naked beneath the all-powerful six-eyes whose stare only urged for more detail, compelling you to indulge him.

Your lip quivered but then gave in yet again.

“Made from the self-loathing of weaklings whose only method of survival is to manipulate the strong into pitying them.”

The shame of it made you go flushed.

“It’s... the life of a leach.” You balled your little fists and nibbled your lip. “It’s pathetic…”

It took a while for him to accept it – stunned by what a ridiculous type of curse you revealed yourself to be. But then he loosened his grip again like before, humming out a light chuckle he couldn’t help.

“You’re the only one I didn’t kill.” He said then, audibly and visibly finding it very funny.

You blinked, confusion taking your face – once again looking up at him and regretting it, feeling the weight of those severe comet blues rest heavy on you – life-threatening in and of themselves.

“Seems being pathetic saved your life.” He stated – as though in a compliment.

You weren’t sure of its intentions, finding yourself to be so very small lying there beneath him while confessing to being such a lowlife.

“But there’s more to it, isn’t there?” He cocked a brow, leaning in even closer until his nose bumped yours. “You feed off of the strong. Isn't that right, pretty curse?” His voice edged with something smug and something carnal – watching your round eyes hang off his. “You want me. Isn't that right?”

You took a moment but then nodded real pitifully – your lips brushing each other. He could see so clearly now, swirling in your big eyes – how badly you wanted him.

He chuckled under his breath, whispering against your lips, “Behave, and I’ll make sure to keep you well-fed.”

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they-slay-glorious-day · 2 years

Text

Since sperm goes 28 mph at ejaculation, people without high speed vehicles or horses could’ve hit their fastest speed of their life at conception.

Billions of people in human history.

Wild

#shitpost #sorry guys #do you ever just have a thought #shower thoughts #chaos #apology video is imminent

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bunny-yan · 4 months

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Hi i was the anon that Requested the p2 of Yan Hero and it got me thinking....

What would happen If The demon Lord Fell in live with Y/n and took her...BUT the Demon actually cares about her and Gives her freedom As Long as she doesn't escape?

Ngl i just wanna Know what tasman's reactiin would be tbh I hope im not Bothering you sorry!

Thx for reading :)))

Also can i be 💋-Anon?

Hi 💋~ Anon! No need to apologize! You aren’t bothering me at all. I think a traumatized darling would be hesitant to jump into the arms of someone else that could potentially repeat the relationship that they’d been so desperate to escape from, but the Demon King is perfect because they would be able to protect you from the hero unparalleled by anyone else in terms of strength and influence. It also feels nice to go to the one person Tasman regards as an enemy. He’d told you over and over again how he was doing this for the greater good and how he needed to protect you from the big bad Demon King, but it’s hard to believe that when the proclaimed villain treats you better and with more respect than he ever did.

TW: threats and descriptions of violence, mentions physical abuse, language, death threats —

He’d taken his eyes off of you for two seconds. Two fucking seconds.

It wasn’t the smartest idea to bring you to an active battle, especially when his enemy had come to meet him, but he didn’t trust you enough with one of the other members in his party after what happened last time. And he especially didn’t trust you to leave you on your own. That left bringing you along, despite knowing how dangerous it was.

It was why he told you to stick close to him. He needed to be able to protect you at a moment’s notice, so you had to remain by his side.

Why did he trust that you would listen?

Walking across a large expanse of land, he felt an imminent threat of danger, only having enough time to grab you and jump out of the way just as a large shadow swallowed the ground in the exact spot his foot would’ve landed.

“Ambush!” one of his teammates yelled, and the situation descended into chaos just that quickly.

Snarls from demon dogs echoed throughout the field as the party fought to fend them off. They were huge, standing taller than some of the trees that were sparsely located, and they were fast. Despite that, dealing with them was easy, when he didn’t have to fight to protect you as well.

Rudy, the party’s tank was struggling to hold back one of the monsters by himself and Annalise, the party’s healer, and Morrigan, the party’s mage, were pinned by two others. Despite their calls for assistance, Tasman brandsihed his sword, eyes narrowing on the Demon King at the head of the attack.

“The others will protect you if something happens. Stay right here and don’t move.” he told you, locking you with a gaze that promised trouble if you were to disobey. The next moment he disappeared, hurtling forward at an inhuman speed to strike the Demon King.

You weren’t surprised. It wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned you to fight, but it was never easy and always nervewracking to be left so open, so exposed while death and destruction surrounded you. A part of you was screaming to run away from the danger, but the last time you had, you’d almost died, experiencing a pain that you couldn’t begin to describe when your body was almost ripped apart. If Tasman believed he could trust you to be protected as long as you stayed in this one spot, you would stay.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to witness a battle you were helpless to aid or run away from, but it wasn’t long before your resolve began to wane.

At the sound of a low growl, you peeked, regretting it instantly at the sight of a snarling dog, snout dripping with saliva, looking dead at you.

“T-Tasman.”

The dog took a step towards you, ears pulled back as the growling increased. Your eyes were wide, too afraid to look away from the staring contest as your body began to shake in fear. With another step in your direciton, you felt yourself backing away, only to freeze at the phantom pain that shot through you from the last time you’d moved from the spot he placed you.

“Tasman.” you said louder this time.

Another step had your body tensing painfully. You didn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. You were sure you’d die the last time you were attacked and no matter how advanced Tasman’s healing magic was, it didn’t help you forget the way your body felt as if it was being torn apart.

When it crouched, bunching it’s muscle in preparation to lunge, something snapped. “Tasman!” you screamed, sprinting away despite knowing that you wouldn’t be fast enough to get away. You shouldn’t have trusted his words. His party members would be happy if you disappeared, leaving the chance for one of them to mend his broken heart.

You were fucked from the start.

He’d been lost in the heat of the battle. He could hear you calling his name, but he didn’t have time to cater to your delicate sensibilities. However, he could hear the fear bleeding in your tone and his heart dropped when he finally caught a moment to glance towards you.

Face drowning in fear, you ran as one of the monster’s jumped to attack you.

What the fuck were they doing‽

He turned, desperate to get back to you, but an unknown force sent him hurtling away.

You yelled, silently pleading for the goddess to spare you before something appeared. Bumping into whatever it was, you didn’t question it as an arm wrapped around your waist before the two of you were met with impact.

From your ragged breaths, you knew you were still alive. Your body sagged in relief, tears leaking involuntarily from your eyes. Despite how cross you were that he’d put you in danger in the first place, you wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tightly.

“I told you I didn’t want to be here, you asshole.”

After taking a deep breath, you backed away to glare at Tasman before your face went slack in shock.

This… was not Tasman.

Dark pools that lacked irises stared back at you. You, who had just cursed at this inexplicably handsome stranger. You, who still had your arms wrapped around said stranger’s waist.

Ripping away, you backed up quickly to bump into something else. Something soft tickled your neck and you felt queasy at the heavy breath that made your hair stand on end. Looking up, your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon dog and when it loosed a terrifying snarl, you found yourself jumping back into the stranger’s arms.

Unfazed, he placed a hand on your back before staring up at the enormous creature.

“Down.” he said, silky voice holding such authority, the beast whined before obeying his master’s order. Looking at the monster now, he resmembled a scolded puppy begging its owner not to be upset. If the puppy had two sets of eyes, a spiked tail, and was big enough to use trees to play fetch.

You looked back to the handsome stranger when he removed his hands from your waist, grabbing your hands to remove the death grip you had on his cloak. Your face was hot in embarrassment, but you mumbled gratitude for saving your life.

“How peculiar.” The stranger cocked his head to the side. “How has a bonded soul sustained such damage?”

You were going to ask him what he meant, but you were pulled into a sudden embrace. Placing a palm up, your eyes widened as the ground cracked from the force of Tasman’s blow against his shield. When the world settled, the man released you once again to face his attacker.

“Lover, get away from him! He’s dangerous!”

You looked at the man who saved you and from the force of Tasman’s words, instinctively you knew.

This was the Demon King.

But he appeared nothing like what you heard. He didn’t have a foreboding presence that promised death and destruction. You didn’t see ghastly horns or grotesque features. He looked human. Normal, even. Nothing like the stories you’d heard growing up.

“Lover!” Tasman snarled, making you jump as you turned to face him. His eyes were wild with panic as his hands pushed against an invisible force. “Come here.”

You felt something shrivel inside of you at the sound of his voice, fear bleeding in your eyes as you began to slowly make your way towards him. Something was telling you that you were going to get in trouble for being rescued by the Demon King.

Tasman visibly relaxed the closer you got, preparing his strength to blow away the barrier the moment you were near, but when you were almost within grabbing distance a hand caught your wrist, halting your forward movement. It wasn’t aggressive and despite the fact that he easily towered over you, his grip was light enough that you felt you could yank your hand away at a moment’s notice. It was funny that you felt no inclination to.

“Fear for the person claiming such an intimate role?”

You looked in their eyes and it surprised you to see concern. Your mouth opened, but you flinched at Tasman’s sharp “Don’t touch-”

“And was this their doing as well?” the Demon King continued, completely unfazed by the anger that cowed you, brought you to heel, and demanded your obedience. He turned your hand to reveal an angry hand-shaped bruise. It was from this morning. You’d attempted to reason that it wasn’t safe for a normal human being to be in an environment with monsters that, even at the weakest level, could kill you. He brushed off your concern, claiming he’d be able to protect you and when you insisted he lost his patience. Grabbing your wrist, he didn’t temper his strength and you felt it might break as he dragged you from the room and down the stairs. Not healing it as a form of punishment for the nasty look you’d given him. He claimed that you might learn to appreciate him if he took away what little he did offer, even if he was also the cause of every miscolored imperfection.

Your silence was enough.

Looking from the bruise around your wrist to the hand that held yours gently, Tasman grit his teeth as he punched at the barrier in anger before attempting to calm down and switching tactics.

“Lover, you don’t know the things he’s done. The village’s he’s destroyed. He is dangerous. Come to me.” he said holding out his hand. When you didn’t move after a moment, his voice sounded choked with desperation to hold back the force, the anger. “Come to me.”

Releasing your hand, you almost felt disappointed. A part of you felt guilty thinking you would no longer be able to use the Demon King’s grip on you as an excuse for not rushing back to Tasman’s side. Something he would be sure to berate you for when you made it back. You didn’t understand why you were making things harder for yourself. You hated the way that sounded, but if you wanted to keep Tasman his happy, kind self, you did what he said. When you wanted to see some of his non-hero like aspects, you did the opposite. And that was what you were doing now. Delaying the inevitable. You didn’t want to imagine the terrifying expression on his face when this man left you to fend for yourself.

‘I would offer asylum, should you be inclined to accept.’ Your head jerked up in surprise at the sound of the voice in your head. ‘Apologies for intruding on your thoughts, but the scenes you projected were hard to ignore. I do not ask you to trust me, but if you’re willing to take the chance to see that I’m not the monster he claims, all I ask is that you take my hand.’

Lifting his hand, you looked at the enticing offer.

Looking between his hand and you, your gaze focused on whatever the bastard offered, Tasman felt dread and a newfound sense of desperation to get you back. “Lover, don’t. He’ll kill you. He’ll devour your soul and give your body to his underlings to do with as they please. Don’t do this. Don’t-”

You thought about what Tasman said. About how dangerous this person was. If you took his hand there was a chance you were subjecting yourself to a worse fate than what you had with your hero. A chance that he simply wanted the gullible human to follow him back to his domain before he took his time devouring his easy prey.

You thought about him destroying villages and for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty as you thought, So what?

The Demon King destroyed villages. The same villages that Tasman threatened to destroy, to rampage if you didn’t come out from hiding after finally managing to escape. The same villages that turned a blind eye when you were kidnapped from your mundane life. The same villages that were complicit in your imprisonment if it meant they would be protected from the big, bad Demon King. The same Demon King that was offering you a chance to escape from all of this. You could be walking into a trap, but you didn’t care. If he devoured your soul it wouldn’t return to the awful cycle you were stuck in and eaten, it would find peace.

You wanted to laugh at the incredulity of the situation. At the hopelessness that drove you to this point.

Fuck those villages.

From the look in your eyes, Tasman knew what you were going to do. He began banging on the barrier with all his might, summoning every ounce of strength as his face contorted into ugly rage.

“Lover!” he snarled, howling with rage when you placed your hand in the Demon King’s. He pounded the barrier, cracking it bit by bit as he hurled threats to you and the Demon King. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

“Maybe one day, but not today, child. Use this time to reflect on the actions that led to this outcome.” With a hand around your waist, you looked at Tasman, at the rage you never knew he could possess, at the terrifyingly possessive look that had you stepping back into the Demon King.

“I’ll find you, lover.” he said with a terrifying calm. “And when I do-”

You didn’t get a chance to hear what he was going to say. One moment you were on the battlefield, the next you were swallowed by shadows that brought you to the edge of a serene forest.

Releasing you, the Demon King quickly wrapped his arms around again when your legs threatened to give out from underneath you.

“Thank you,” you said, voice trembling with emotion you couldn’t begin to describe. Were you afraid because of Tasman’s threat? Grateful that you would get even a moment away from him? Scared of what the Demon king planned to do to you? There was too much to consider and you didn’t have enough time to process everything that had happened up until this point.

“No need.” he said, surprising you as he cupped your face in his his hands. The warmth from his hands lulled you into a false sense of calm and when he came closer, you panicked. Was he going to kiss you? Was that a requirement to devour your soul‽

Shutting your eyes tight, you assumed something was wrong when he placed his forehead against yours, but after a quick chant and a warm sensation on your forehead, he released you, leaving you reeling in what just happened.

“The mark I’ve bestowed will help the creatures in this territory recognize you as one of us. All I ask is that you do not harm them.”

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say.

You didn’t know what he had planned, but once again you were frozen in shock when a small smile appeared on his face.

“Peculiar human. A kiss would only be the first step.”

Your mouth dropped open, but if he noticed the stupor he placed you in, he didn’t say. Walking forward, he called behind, “Come along. I will show you the room that is meant to be yours and allow you to explore to your single heart’s content.”

Without a word or a sense of hesitation, you followed.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere hero #yandere hero x reader

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jcoleemic · 4 months

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am i making you feel sick? - L. Castellan

summary: when percy arrives in the infirmary in critical condition from a scorpion sting, you find out who was behind it all

warnings: book spoilers, betrayal, angst, that's literally it

side note: kinda got the inspo from the song, bc the whole betrayal of it all "am i making you feel sick?" kinda gagged me tbh and this idea was then conjured up so... i hope this isn't trash lol

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

you sat in the hermes cabin for close to an hour now, having no clue where your boyfriend was. he'd been m.i.a. the whole day, and even when you had asked chris about his whereabouts, you'd come up empty handed.

the soft blue plaid of his sheets brought you comfort as you traced the yellow lines that ran vertically down the expanse of his comforter. they smelled of luke's cologne, warm and soft yet masculine, it matched his personality perfectly.

an hour bled into another thirty minutes, and by then, you were dozing off. without worrying about being bothered by any of the other kids in the cabin, you snuggled up into his comforter, letting your eyes fall closed. he's just busy today, you told yourself as your breathing fell even. the hermes cabin was a lovely environment to fall asleep in, despite its constant chaos. the warm environment reminded you of your grandparents house, one that you probably wouldn't visit again.

but, just before you could fully drift off, heavy and fast footsteps boomed on the oak floors, startling you up into a seated position. you originally thought that it had finally been luke, but you were wrong. it was chris, instead. "we need you in the infirmary," he spoke breathlessly, yet you could hear the subtle break in his voice. the urgency made your heart jump into your throat, and no words were exchanged as you jumped out of the comfort of luke's bed, following chris.

upon arriving at the infirmary, most of your siblings stood outside. it seemed as though you were the last one there, and you really wondered just how bad it was. your brother marcus was head counselor for your cabin, a year older than you. he was the first person you saw when you barged through the doors, barely holding it for poor chris behind you. "what happened?"

"a scorpion stung percy. annabeth brought him in just ten minutes ago," he said, hanging his head down low. your heart sank at the news of the young demigod being in such imminent danger. "what- how? is he okay?" you felt the bile in your stomach reach your throat. something felt off about this, and you didn't know what but it made goosebumps rise on your skin, yet your hands grew clammy.

marcus nodded, but his eyes grew teary and cloudy before dropping eye contact with you. that didn't help the growing uneasiness in your core. if he wasn't going to give you a straight answer, you pushed past him to go see percy or annabeth, two kids you knew would be straight up with you.

you saw the pale boy laying on a cot, with chiron and annabeth at his side. no other campers, except for a few of your siblings were in the room, so you rushed to percy's side. because he had grown close with luke, he had grown close with you too. he was your unofficial little brother, and the sight of him so sickly made your heart clench.

"hey, perce. how are you feeling?" you asked, bending down to push some of his curls out of his face. his forehead felt hot and sweaty. he just shrugged, not wanting to give much of an answer. "better, but tired."

you nodded, pushing a few more curls away from his face before deciding to let the poor boy rest. looking away from him, you looked at the worrisome faces of annabeth, chiron, and mr. d. everyone was here, but luke. where was luke.

before the question could even leave your mind and out of your lips, chiron put a hand on your shoulder. "come, child. i need to speak with you." he held something of sorrow in his eyes while looking into yours. he shifted his gaze to chris, an unspoken sentence shared between the two of them, that immediately had the boy following you out alongside chiron.

they led you outside of the infirmary and to your cabin, which was a little less than five feet away. their silence was making the pit in your stomach grow larger by the second. you decided then that you couldn't take it any longer, so you spoke up. "what's going on?" your voice wavered more than you would've liked it to, but it got the point across.

you looked from chris to chiron, and noticed tears were falling from chris' face. he looked down at his shoes pitifully, his hands coming up to wipe away the stray tears. that only made some of your own well up in your eyes. "chiron, please."

"the scorpion that attacked percy..." he trailed, "it was luke's. he tried to kill him, and he is the one that stole the masterbolt. he's been working with kronos this whole time."

his words pierced your skin, yet bounced off all at the same time. your immediate reaction was to laugh in disbelief, but your eyes betrayed you as silent tears started to fall. "no, he wouldn't do that, i know him," you argued, watching the way chiron sighed deeply and hung his head low. chris' eyes met yours and you could see the glossy distance in them, making your heart shatter. he pulled you into a hug, much like luke would, and initially you tried to fight him off.

"you're lying," you spewed at chiron, like hot venom coming out of your mouth. "chris, stop crying, get off of me! he's lying, he's lyi-"

it was then that your words caught up in your throat, your limbs going numb at your poor attempt to pry chris' arms off of your body. the sobs that left your throat were those that only happened when you lost a loved one, and in a way you did. "i truly, am, so sorry," chiron whispered, pursing his lips as he watched you cry in chris' arms.

maybe you should've seen this coming. after all, he hated the gods for what they did to their children; sending them off on dangerous quests, never seeing or talking to them. just the pure fact that they ever conceived of their many children that they would just neglect made luke angry.

but out of all this hatred, no matter how much he despised the gods, he was still luke. your ever-loving, sweet boyfriend that wouldn't ever hurt you. so when the realization hit, it hit hard. not your luke, anyone but him. the golden child, the best swordsman at camp.

am i making you feel sick?

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy series #pjo

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