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tgcg · 4 months

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candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #this is literally at the image cap i hope you all like it #comix #candid detail

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!

[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]

Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.

“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.

“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.

He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.

“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”

Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”

Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.

“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.

This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”

Steve snorts. Is he okay?

Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”

Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.

And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”

It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.

He couldn’t.

He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.

So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.

But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”

Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.

“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.

Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.

“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”

Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”

“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.

“I guess,” Steve mutters.

“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.

Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.

Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.

“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”

At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.

“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”

But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.

“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”

“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”

“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”

Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”

In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”

Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”

Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.

“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.

And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?

(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)

(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)

“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.

“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Munson presses.

“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.

“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”

“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).

“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”

Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”

“Ah,” Munson says.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”

“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.

Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”

“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”

Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”

“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”

The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”

Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.

“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.

He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.

“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”

That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).

“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.

“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”

“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.

“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”

Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”

“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?

“What?” Steve asks.

“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”

“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”

And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”

“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”

“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”

“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”

Steve blinks at him. “What?”

“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.

It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.

On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.

Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.

“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.

“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”

It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.

“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.

Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.

He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?

Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.

He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.

The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.

After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.

“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.

“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.

When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”

Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.

(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)

“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.

If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.

He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.

“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”

Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”

“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”

“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”

Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”

“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”

“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.

Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”

“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.

His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”

“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.

“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.

“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”

Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.

“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”

Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”

Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.

Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”

Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.

“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.

“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”

Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”

And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.

And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things post s2 AU #stranger things #this one is a bit long just as a heads up; about 4.6k #is it good? I dunno but I had fun writing it and you guys seem interested so here we go!#eddiesteve #solar wrote

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nudityandnerdery · 9 months

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[Image Description: A series of sixteen tweets by John Rogers @jonrog1 that say:

1) A moment at the Teamsters/UPS rally this morning clarified our current struggle with the studio CEO's (among other bosses). Teamsters got a lot of wins, but one of the main sticking points is the pay for the 65% of local UPS workers who are part-time …

2) If you read the SAG-AFTRA demands, a truly STUNNING amount of their points involve protecting background actors, and trying to improve conditions for the 87% of their union who makes less than $26,000 a year.

3) As WGA members know, this is not a strike for the showrunners. We're trying to fix the fact the the current younger generation of writers can't even afford housing and their pathway to advancement has been cut off.

4) Like … folks, I'm fine. There are maybe two proposals in there that affect me. I'm walking in 90% weather and losing over 50% of my income for the year because I want the younger writers to get what I got at this stage of their careers.

5) Our unions and the CEO's and various negotiators have a fundamental cognitive disconnect. Because CEO's types only succeed by FUCKING THEIR PEERS.

6) Zaslav, Iger , those types of execs, etc have never gone without so a fellow exec or a junior exec could thrive. A fellow exec failing is the moment to use your own leverage to advance past them, if not destroy them.

7) Part of it is the money but part of this, I think, is a genuine inability to grasp even the concepts of any labor action. Because it is always other-directed.

8) So many people treat capitalism as part of nature red in tooth and claw, but it's not. It's a human construct. There are different rules you can play by -- but not if you want to win.

9) The greatest gift capitalism ever granted was the ability to validate selfish behavior as a virtue because that's "just what's necessary, I don't make the rules!" (Look ma, it's reification!)

10) This is where I usually point out that Adam Smith wrote that you have to overpay workers to keep your labor force up, and you need to take into account the psychic damage of capitalism to the workers, and that admiring the rich is the greatest source of moral corruption …

11) But I'll stave off that diversion to just land with … this is a discontinuity of attitudes which I think was once breached by the fact that management USED to come from people who loved building their company or their trade, even if they eventually did management shit.

12) Now, even that thin thread of SYMPATHY (Adam Smith joke, get it? People?) is gone. The CEO's are working off a different scorecard, practically and morally. We're not just playing by wildly divergent rules, our lives and careers are DEFINED by those wildly divergent rules.

13) To them, we are IN FACT being "unreasonable", as our behavior does not make sense in their moral framework. They don't think they're being evil, they think they're playing by the actual rules, and we're nuts.

14) There's not great conclusion to this, other than to note that the bit about making writers homeless was described as "cruel but necessary" because they genuinely don't understand the meaning of cruel, because they are always on the other side of the power dynamic.

15) And if they're ever NOT on the top of the power dynamic, they're not suffering, they're dead. They are un-people in their own eyes.

16) These men are not irrational, but they are deranged. This isn't about money, it's about identity. And in a fight about identity … they will set billions on fire.

Because they can always get more money. But they'll never shed the stink of losing to their lessers."

end of image description]

#strike #sag aftra #wga strike #ups strike #john rogers #sag strike

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feralrabidcrow · 3 days

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I'm sure all of us are familiar with what happened to Heavy and Medic in the TF2 comics, particularly, comic #6.

They reunite after spending 6 months apart following the mercenaries being fired. Heavy has been living back in Russia with his family, and Medic has joined the TFC team, which has gone horribly.

Their reunion is in a less than ideal situation as Heavy is interrupting Cheavy from tearing Medic into pieces. Cheavy kills Medic, and Heavy completely loses his shit. He is determined to kill the man who killed his Doktor. To a degree that doesn't seem like avenging a friend, almost more like avenging a partner. Someone he loves deeply.

But then Medic comes back, and Heavy is just... weirdly casual about it. He goes from complete rage mode to "Ah Doktor it is good to have you back." No hug, no tears, just accepts that Medic is alive again. It almost feels like there is an awkwardness between them.

From a logical standpoint, this is just TF2 being TF2. The emotional moments in the comics are often quickly switched to a comedic tone.

But my Red Oktoberfest obsessed brain has latched onto this hard, and I have a headcanon that is now deeply ingrained into my worldview.

Heavy and Medic broke up when the team disbanded.

As much as I like the idea of Heavy and Medic keeping things going long distance and writing letters to each other, it doesn't make much sense to me logically.

This is something I've thought about a lot, to the point where I'm considering writing an angsty little one-shot about it.

I believe that when Gray Mann took control and fired the mercenaries, Heavy and Medic were left in a complicated situation where their interests no longer aligned. Heavy wanted to go back home to Russia and take care of his family. Medic wanted to look for a new job to continue his medical mad science endeavours. No matter what, if they were to stay together, someone would have ended up dissatisfied. After trying and failing to come up with a compromise, they decided the best thing was to go their separate ways.

But it didn't change the fact that they still loved each other. They went on to their new situations, with feelings of lingering regret and wondering what could have happened if they had stayed together.

When they reunite in the comics, this is the first time seeing each other since their painful break-up. They still care deeply for each other, hence Heavy instantly becoming protective of Medic when he sees him in danger. And when Medic dies, he snaps completely. He has thought about this man constantly since returning to Russia, silently hurting over the loss of the only real relationship he ever had. And now that man is dead. Of course he's going to lose it.

But when Medic comes back, he's confronted with the fact that Medic technically isn't his partner anymore, not at this point, anyways. In comes the awkwardness. He isn't sure how to approach this now. He and Medic have barely even spoken to each other at this point, much less talked about their feelings or their break-up.

I like to think shortly after the 6th comic ends, or sometime off-screen, they talk things out, resolve their issues, and maybe even share a lovely little reuniting kiss. But hey, that's just a theory! A game theory!

#tf2 #team fortress #team fortress 2 #tf2 comics #medic tf2 #heavy tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #heavy x medic #medic x heavy #heavymedic #redoktoberfest #red oktoberfest #tf2 red oktoberfest #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction

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strawberrystealer · 1 year

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Bungo Stray Dogs- What I think they’d do if someone kidnapped you

Characters: Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, and Akutagawa

For some reason I think about this a lot sooo why not write about it!

Fyodor-

Angry, upset, annoyed, all of those would be understatements

The pure rage that would fill this mans body once he gets the news-

If he saw like a letter or something thats like “Ayo we got ur bae come get them or they die lmaooo #livelaughlove” But a lot more sinister and stuff he’d go straight there and uhhh

Basically kill everyone there using his ability of course

He’d be so quick about it too, like drop everything he was doing and go straight there

Once he’s at the place in like the span of a few seconds everyone’s already dead and he goes over to you and idk takes off your blind fold or whatever they have on you

He becomes the softest man you’ve ever seen just for that moment cuz he doesn’t know what you’ve been through and he doesn’t want to cause you anymore pain

Once you two get home he’ll run a bath for you or something and stay by your side

He’ll make sure no one ever touches you again, he can’t ever risk losing you.

Nikolai-

I bet he’d be like coming home all cheerful, ready to come mess with you or something and... you’re not on the couch.

Not in your room, the bathroom, anywhere

The smile immediately drops from his face and he gets worried

But then again he probably does this all the time so he texts you and you don’t respond??

Now he’s 10 times more worried than he was before!

Probably not a lot tho cuz he probably knows where you are

If thats the case then he just goes the the location and pays you a lil visit

Knocks on the door like a gentleman ofc

But when they open it-

BOOM

“QUIZ TIME!!! Where’s my lovely little s/o?? Can you guess??” And he looks over and sees you inside the house.

Then he’d immediately kill move the kind gentleman into a burning fire! So sweet ik

He’d get to you and ofc be worried but once he finds out you’re okay he’ll be fine and back to his normal goofy self

Unless you want the more realistic take where he cant stop thinking about it and thinks its his fault for weeks but is also trying to rid himself of emotions so ofc he cant be scared or guilty so he’s constantly battling himself on whether or not its his fault and if you still even like you because he might not have been there just in time to save you.

Sigma-

He’d be so unbelievably worried

He wouldn’t know who did it, why, how, or anything and he’d be just as confused as you probably are

He’d probably have to ask for help, contemplate calling the cops but then realizes hes fr a terrorist he cant do that-

So he asks Fyodor for help and after a bit of pleading Fyodor gives him the location of where you and your abductor are

Once Sigma gets there, with some guns he’s probably scared to use, he sees the man that kidnapped you

Its gonna be like “if you give me ur casino ill give u your s/o” type of shit (super unrealistic but its all I can think of rn)

So obviously ur man isnt having that and shoots him

I mean he had no problem shooting that red haired girl (whatever her name is in the hunting dogs) so he probably wouldn’t have a problem killing some weak guy to get his lover back

Once he gets you safe he’ll keep asking if you’re okay alllll the time just because he’s so scared

“Darling are you sure you’re okay?? He seemed really scary... he didn’t hurt you did he? Do you need any bandages?”

Akutagawa-

He looks completely unfazed

Like he’ll read some letter telling him to come get you or you die and be like “...Ugh not this again”

He will get you though

And he is slightly scared but not really because he knows you’ll be fine once he gets you

When he gets to the place he doesn’t even knock on the door

He just punches a big ass hole in it with his ability and goes through it

Also kills your abductor<3

Once he gets you he’s quiet

He’ll lightly hug you, glad your alive and the drive home will be silent

He’s considering weather he should be all “you’re so weak how’d you even get kidnapped” or “are you okay? ... He didn’t do any physical abuse to you, correct?” But both of them sound weird to him so he’s silent

When you get home he’ll prepare anything you wish

Tea? Dinner? Blankets? Anything, he’ll do for you

He does love you and he was very worried its just he has a poor way of showing it, thats all :)

#fyodor #fyodor x reader #nikolai #nikolai x reader #sigma #sigma x reader #akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #bsd #bsd anime #bungo stray dogs #x reader

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obxsummer · 9 months

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HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

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more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it.

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t.

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party.

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it.

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left.

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often.

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you.

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down.

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock.

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit.

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother.

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him.

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side.

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules.

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you.

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break.

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him.

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said.

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.”

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word.

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you.

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened.

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you.

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about.

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be.

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart.

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest.

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all.

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

#obx3celebration #jj maybank #outer banks x reader #obx3 #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj outer banks #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank imagine #obx x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank series #stc series #routledge!reader #outer banks angst #jj maybank angst #outer banks netflix

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hopelessrromantix · 9 months

Note

Sending a less intense ask now that I know you didn't disappear. How about Miguel x male reader who's cannon event was losing his husband, his worlds Miguel. (Hurt/Comfort)

Or Miguel, who's afraid to hurt the reader bc his fangs/powers/strength/etc. So reader has to show him that they're stronger than they look. (Angst/Fluff, optional Smut)

Or Miguel and reader having a secret relationship, but it's hard to keep it that way when he's so desperate for your attention all of the time (Smut, cough semi-public cough)

These are just some ideas, but there's no pressure to answer any of them. Have a good day :)

Might write your other ideas too, ngl...

Slightly more angst whoops.... sorry?

The first time you met Miguel had been a very long time ago.

It was a glance at first. Just a random man visiting the doctor's area of your lab. Perfectly normal.

Then it was a conversation. Then a date. Then a proposal, and before long you were married and happy.

You were originally working on a biological project, which was the spider that made you the Spiderman of your world. And though Miguel was nervous, he was supportive nonetheless.

Unfortunately, like all your counterparts, your unavoidable canon had resulted in Miguel's death, something you never got over. No matter how long passed, your heart felt just as heavy thinking about your husband.

You'd tried just about everything to get him back, even if he wasn't the same.

Experiments, A.I., anything that came to mind. But it was never him.

Maybe it had destroyed you a bit.

Maybe you spent too long torturing yourself in your head, trying to cover any sense of loss with the humor so traditional of a spider.

And maybe, just maybe, you missed him more than you could handle.

It wasn't until you swung face first into an anomaly (literally, a wall had basically materialized in front of you) that your life changed again.

Before you could blink, a man in a dark suit had been tackled to the ground. He was forming stone walls around him, attempting to stand back up.

Judging by the large stature of the man behind him, that wasn't happening.

The suit drew your attention first. It looked weirdly like the one Miguel had helped you make years before. Not the same, but close.

Several other people were with him, each one with different but similar outfits.

"Uhhh should I be fighting you guys, or…?" You questioned, looking over the group. You were prepared for a fight, but they seemed too calm to be villains like those you usually fought.

The tall man looked over to you, nodding to a woman next to him, dressed in all red.

"No, but we owe you an explanation."

And they gave you one, explaining that you weren't really as unique as you thought, but in a much more fulfilling way. You were one of many, many universes out there.

They showed you HQ, a place full of slightly different variations of yourself.

And with that, you had one single question.

Is he out there somewhere too?

After that moment the tour was a blur. Your mind was too caught up in running over the ways to ask if you could find your husband. Even just seeing him from a distance. Anything would do.

"Hey, big guy?"

The man in front of you seemed unimpressed, even in the dim light of his workspace.

"What's the rule on going to see people in other universes? Like, you came to my world so shit wouldn't go sideways if I visited someone, would it?"

It wasn't the first time Miguel had been asked that, of course. They all lost someone, of course they'd ask to see them again. The only issue was breaking the fabric of reality. And the fact that Uncles, Aunts, and anyone else really was dead in most worlds.

"No you cannot see dead loved ones."

His mask faded away, a serious look on his face. "We all have canon events…"

He was talking. You knew he was talking.

But his eyes were so tired.

It had been a long time since you'd seen him, but he looked so much less… alive.

But you'd take any version of alive.

You couldn't hear anything he said. You were too busy studying every feature on his face, watching him carefully.

"Miguel?"

He paused. "We know each other on your Earth?"

"We don't on yours?" You asked with a twinge of sadness in your voice, wishing a parallel you could've been happy with him.

"Uh, yeah, hi, I was planning to step in a little sooner but, uh, whoops."

The flash of a woman floating in the air next to Miguel stopped you. Layla, as Spid- Miguel had introduced her earlier.

"Layla I'm in the mid-"

"Shockingly it's more important than whatever you're saying," she huffed. "In Y/n's world he joined the research team that eventually made the spider that bit him, in Miguel's world Y/n had joined a completely different company. You two didn't meet the same way in your worlds."

"Okay?" Miguel questioned, opening his mouth to continue complaining about Layla interrupting.

"Yeah, but on Y/n's Earth-"

"We're married. You… you saved the lives of a family and died in the process."

You could see his heart break for you. For most people, the shift in expression would be nothing. In fact, it was very well hidden. But you knew him.

And he knew loss more than most. And though he didn't know you, he knew what you felt.

Layla flashed away, leaving the two of you in the low light of Miguel's office.

"I'm sorry."

He was so much more broken than you remembered.

"I got to see you, that's all I wanted." You smiled, looking over his features with a sense of calm you hadn't felt since Miguel's death.

"Would you wanna take another walk? Maybe I could show you around my world." You suggested. You'd be happy just seeing him, you really would. But you'd be even happier spending time with him.

"You understand that-"

"It's not like you'd have to go back to my world forever. And I would've stayed alone there anyway, I doubt I would be wrecking some happy future life, Miguel."

His eyes narrowed. "But you-"

"You don't know me, it's okay. I'm not asking you to do anything. Hell even this is enough for me. Just talking to you, for any length of time"

"You aren't hearing m-"

"Losing you was the worst day of my life." He quieted a bit, letting you speak. "We all have canon events right? I'm sure you understand how much it hurt, then."

You took a breath. This was more overwhelming than you expected it to be, which was saying something.

"You don't know me, Miguel,.and technically I don't know you either. But we got along pretty well in my world? At least consider being my friend?" You asked, a hopeful look on your face as you stared at the much more tired version of your husband.

"Please, Miguel?"

He stared at you a minute, his eyes softer than they were a minute before. He glanced down at your hand before looking back up at your face.

"You should leave, Y/n."

Your hand dropped slowly as you tried not to let your heart break again.

And you listened.

#secret admirer #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x reader #miguel x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv

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rottenpumpkin13 · 9 months

Note

What was Zack's most elaborate and oddly complex prank he somehow managed to pull on the Firsts?

The Pregnancy Prank

[Zack and Cissnei are at Zack's apartment. Cissnei is calling Angeal from her phone because he doesn't have her number saved and he won't recognize her voice]

[The phone is ringing. Zack is silently laughing]

[Angeal picks up]

Angeal: Hello?

Cissnei: Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Zackary Fair?

Angeal: ....No?

Cissnei: This is the number I was given under the name Zackary Fair.

[There's a pause. Cissnei signaling for Zack to stop laughing]

Angeal: Who am I speaking to?

Cissnei: This is Bethany Waters from Midgar Parental Planning. Miss Aerith Gainsborough had her ultrasound this afternoon and asked us to call you about the results.

[There's an even bigger pause. Heavy breathing is heard on the other line. This time Cissnei has to cover her mouth to keep herself from laughing. Zack is silently losing it]

Angeal: Is this—what did he—I mean, what is this about? Genesis, take this I'm about to throw up.

[There's shuffling from the other end. Zack and Cissnei are both dying]

Genesis: Hello? Who is—Angeal are you having a panic attack!? Hi, who is this?

Cissnei: Good afternoon. I'm Bethany Waters from Midgar Parental Planning. Am I speaking to Zackary Fair?

Genesis: By the goddess you're kidding me. Oh shit. Oh shit. Fuck me. You're kidding.

[Cissnei miraculously keeps a poker face. Zack is on the floor clutching his stomach. There's a third voice on the other end that sounds like Sephiroth. He's asking what's going on]

Cissnei: Sir? Sir, who am I speaking to?

Genesis: Shit! Uh...uh... I'm Zack's uncle. I'll relay the message to him. What does this pertain—Sephiroth, Angeal has turned blue—what does this pertain to?

Cissnei: Aerith Gainsborough's ultrasound results.

Genesis: HE KNOCKED HER UP

[Cissnei once again slaps her hand over her mouth. Zack is red in the face from trying to keep himself quiet. Genesis is still screaming on the other end while a garbled commotion is heard]

Genesis: SHE'S PREGNANT. HE'S A KID. SHE'S A KID. WE'RE ALL GONNA GET SUED TO BY THE COMPANY—ANGEAL! SEPHIROTH, HE PASSED OUT—*shuffling sounds*—I'M GOING TO SET HIS ASS ON FIRE—*shuffling sounds*—IRRESPONSIBLE—*shuffling and the sound of Angeal crying*—I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!

[Zack is crying with laughter. Cissnei is taking several deep breaths to keep herself calm. There's more shuffling and then someone else picks up the phone]

Sephiroth: Hello? This is Zackary Fair speaking.

Cissnei: Great! I'm calling to give you Miss Gainsborough's ultrasound results.

Sephiroth: Alright. What's the diagnosis?

[Genesis's voice is heard in the background: "IT'S A BABY NOT A DISEASE YOU DIMWIT! PUT IT ON SPEAKER!"]

Cissnei: She found out she's having triplets.

Sephiroth: Alright.

Genesis: HOW DID HE MANAGE THAT!??

Angeal: *crying noises*

Cissnei: It'll be three boys.

Sephiroth: Alright.

Genesis: SEPHIROTH HE PASSED OUT AGAIN.

Cissnei: Congratulations!

Sephiroth: Alright.

Cissnei: She's also asked us to relay a message regarding the baby's names.

Sephiroth: Alright.

Cissnei: It reads here she's thinking of naming them Angeal, Sephiroth and Genesis.

Sephiroth: Alright. One moment please.

[There's another huge pause. Then the sound of something heavy falling is heard, Genesis screaming, followed by the phone falling on the ground. Genesis's muffled voice comes on]

Genesis: Hello? Hi, Bethany, dear? I have to go. Two grown men are passed out on my kitchen floor and I still have a teenager to find and maim. Do you mind calling back later? Thanks.

[The line goes dead]

#ffvii #ff7 #genesis rhapsodos #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #angeal hewley #ffvii crisis core #ff7r #zack fair #final fantasy #ff #final fantasy vii #ff7 aerith #aerith gainsborough #cissnei #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy vii remake #soldier pranks

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namis-gf · 3 months

Note

Hii can I get Robin x Reader, where Robin wakes up from a nightmare and reader comforts her? I'd imagine it's set after Enies Lobby

ANON ILY THIS IS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing cause robin is best girl ever and hurt/comfort is my jam

summary: fem!reader and robin sharing a bed for the first time after everything that went down in water 7/enies lobby. for context, reader worked for sir crocodile in alabasta and robin took her along when she boarded the merry (but she was unaware of robin working with the government)

word count: 812 words / 0.8k

cw: none!

there are three beds now, in the girls' cabin on the sunny. you aren't sure if you're relieved or disappointed. the shipwright luffy picked - franky is his name, you think - had done a headcount of every member of the crew before getting to work.

the gulf between each bed feels even larger at night. for the first few nights back at sea, you can hear soft, heart-wrenching noises from across the room. your heart sinks into your stomach from the guilt, making you almost nauseous, but you can't work up the courage to get up and check on her.

robin had lied to you.

yes, you know she'd done it for the greater good. yes, you know she didn't mean any harm by keeping you in the dark. but nico robin has been by your side for as long as you can remember, on the sea and in the scorching sands of alabasta. she was there in your worst and weakest moments, and you cherish her. part of you wishfully thought that she too, felt as though she could confide in you just as equally.

she's crying again tonight. robin has always had issues with sleep, though she used to be much more cryptic and closed off about the origin of the problem. sometimes, back in your homeland, she would crawl into your bed after night-watch. never touching you directly, but her presence was warm and comforting.

you get to your feet and slip past a sleeping nami, heading toward the bed farthest from the door and shrouded in darkness. by the time you attempt to make an awkward approach, she is already awake and silently watching.

"i missed you," you whisper quietly, extending the olive branch.

before you can try and come up with something else to say, two hands brusquely push against your back. the motion sends you falling forwards, a familiar laugh and the scent of flowers awaiting. she pulls you close, your face red red red from embarrassment.

"it was about time you came to check on me," robin hums, an errant hand summoned by the devil fruit's magic combing through your hair. "one would almost think you were angry."

"i'm not angry," you grumble. "i was worried. for a smartypants, you've been making real stupid decisions of late. that new captain must be a bad influence."

"it wasn't stupid," she replies, sounding lost in thought. "i did what i had to do. if it came down to it, i was ready to go."

"that's the fucking problem! you convinced yourself you were ready, and-"

"i wanted to live, yes."

"well thank god," you huff indignantly, rolling over so you can face her properly. "i would've been pissed if you dragged me all this way just to go and die like a loser."

she chuckles again, the sound music to your ears. "what was it, mr. 0 used to say all the time? right, yes. we don't lose."

"and die winners?" you finish the familiar saying, "he was always so full of shit. the hell does that even mean? If you're dead, you lose. game over."

robin's breath seems to be evening out, and the throes of sleep are working to snare you too. but you came here for a reason, and you won't just let her ignore the problem any longer. "what were you dreaming about?"

"oh, i don't know," she says, flippant. if you could make out her face in the dark, you're sure she'd be smiling at your imminent frustration. "i never really remember my dreams."

“ever?" you echo disbelievingly, "that's nuts. just yesterday i woke up from an awful nightmare about the captain trying to boil my hair like spaghetti."

"sounds yummy," she presses close to you, now, and her two real arms circle around your shoulders. "but i'm afraid my dreams are top secret, frontier agent miss thursday."

"don't pull that garbage rank on me! you know i'm worth more than... eleventh," you say the last word with enough distaste that robin starts giggling again.

"no offence," robin says, in the voice that means she's about to be totally mean. "but i think your former rank had more to do with uh- how do i put it- your tendency to dispose of your partners."

“it's not my fault he was a dummy and couldn't defend himself," you argue back, mostly for the fun of it. "i really think they underestimated my grand potential."

"well that's why i took you with me, of course," she soothes, and you laugh a little yourself at the insincerity. "i'm serious though, i sleep better with you around. so you are hereby forbidden to leave."

"aye," you snort, raising a wobbly arm in mock salute. nico robin may be a total mystery, but you were raised persistent. and persist you fucking will, until she lets you into her heart.

#one piece #one piece x reader #nico robin x reader #nico robin #requests open #fem!reader #nico robin x fem!reader #baroque works

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mschimdt · 10 months

Text

Truth or dare

quaritch x recom reader

summary: you were put into the recom team as a therapist and a medic, you were also a marine, you get invited to play a game of truth or dare randomly with the rest of the recoms, not thinking anything of it and not knowing where it was gonna lead you

warnings: teasing, knife play, rough quaritch, sub reader, punishments, dares, embarassment, just pure filth so beware minors ❗��NOT PROOF READ❗️

LOTS AND LOTS OF TYPOS THAT IM TOO LAZY TO FIX

note: this is super shitty and rushed because my accounts dead and the story doesnt make sense

you were recently added to the recom team in an avatar body, you were their therapist and medic, but you also joined wars because you used to be a marine.

you heard ur name being called over the loud speakers, it was ardmors calling you somewhere, probably another therapy session for one of the recoms because theyre losing their sanity, the only one that seemed somewhat stable was quaritch

infact it was a therapy lesson, you expected it to be lyle or mansk because they were the most unstable ones out of the group and they came to your office randomly to talk about things that are bothering them , you made your way to your office, opening the door expecting lyle or mansk, but to your surprise, it was quaritch?

hes never been in your office once, you stood still for a few seconds after opening the door, you came back to your senses and closed the door, the rusty hinges making a squeaking sound

"hey" you said, pulling your chair to sit down, you open the book where you put upcoming sessions, and infact quaritch was there, how didnt you notice before?

"okay so, tell me whats been bothering you" you say, in a stable tone

"nothin's botherin me i was forced to come here" he says, leaning lightly on the chair, arms crossed against his chest and his legs open

"theres no way nothings been bothering you, you just came back from that war with sully and you experienced some things.." you say

eventually after convincing him, he eventually spilled the things that were bothering him, you also got to know more about him during that session, ylu and quaritch were already friends, not quite but you waved to eachother and greeted eachother

you also played gamenighgs together every thursday, so you could say you were friends. but you got to know him more today

after that jaw dropping session, you went to your room, changed and sat in bed, it was thursday, aka gamenight day

after a long nap, you got up getting dressed in shorts, keeping your shirt on, not that it mattered what you wore becausr everyone would just meet up in whatever they eere wearing head to the mess hall, you were a few minutes late

you walked through the halls, opening your tab to check if you had any messages from anyone

you reached the mess hall, they were already playing something, seated on the floor with a bottle in the middle, the moment you saw the bottle you hesitated going back because you knew its either a kissing game or some dirty ass game of truth or dare, most likely lyles idea

you made up your mind, continuing your walk to the empty area in the messhall, "hey, move a bit? i wanna join" you say, they stared up at you

they moved and you sat across from lyle, you noticed quaritch was sitting on a table on the other side of the mess hall, across from ja, looked like they were playing poker. the bottle spun, you noticed Z-dog barsly had any clothes on and lyle had shoes taped to his head, mansk wasnt wearing a shitt which was very unusual and prager and the rest had red handprints on their faces

"soooo what we playing?" you say "truth or dare, whos gonma spin it?" lyle answers

z dog grabs the bottle and spins it, it landed on prager and mansk, prager asked and mansk answered

"truth or dare masnkkk" he said, in a high pitched voice to mock mansk "truth, gotta save myself from whatever demonic shit you were planning"

prager asked his question, it was a really dumb one

you spun the bottle this time, it landed on you and lyle, lyle asked and you answered

"truth or dare Y/N" "dare" you said, awaiting the most likely humiliating dare you were gonna get

"sit next to quaritch n touch him somewhere your not supposed to, if u dont do it youve gotta pay up, 50 dollars!"

"ugh fuck you lyle! i wont be pahing 50 dollars to youe broke ass" you put your hand on the floor, pusshing yourself upwards to stand up, yoy stared in quaritchs direction

you walked over to the table where he was sitting with ja, both focused on the game they were playing, you sat nect to quaritch, way too close for your liking, your thighs were just a few inches away from touching

you leaned your hand on the table leaning your head on it

you noticed your friends staring at you with wide smiles on their faces looking like theyre about to burst out laughing

you position your other hand to sit against quaritchs thigh

you lift your hand, setting it on quaritchs thigh

quaritch turmed around to face you, he didnt even notice you sit nect to him because of how focusrd he was and he went back to playing the game, you got uo and left heading back to your friends

you played for almost 15 minutes after that, alot of humiliating dares coming through

finally, everyone left, the only people left were you, lyle, quaritch, ja, and z dog in the room, you stopped plahing truth or dare because you were only 3 players

you said bye, and started walking the way to your room, you jeard footsteps behind yoy as you approached the door, and then you felt a harsh tug at your hair, you felt yourself being pushed back against a tall broad figure

"what do ya' think ya' were doin huh?"

he said, you recognised quaritchs voice "sorry sir..? i dont quite get what you mean" you said, inoccently asif what you did never happened

"i heard you n the others playing a game of truth n dare huh? you know?" he said, letting go of your hair inorder for you to face him

"o-oh that? it was just a silly dare, i promise it wont happen again sir" you said staring at the ground, you should have just payed those 50 dollars

"theres no it wont happen again now kid, unlock your door ive seen the way you look at me" he was correct, you have stared at him a few times admiring him but it was never something serious ,right?

while you were unlocking the door, quaritch said something "ya know that therapy session we had? none of those things were botherin me as much as ya were, knowing that we couldnt have eachother because of this syupid mission, hell its the entire purpose of our life now! we were revived to fight"

you didnt reply, opening your door and lettinf quaritch in, not expecting what he was going to do

as soon as you locked the door, you felt yourself being lifted up only to be harshly throws across your bed, quaritch grabbing you by your hair again, lifting you up and laying your lower half across his lap

"ya may not like this but ion reslly give a shit"

before you could even respond, your shorts were pulled down and, a hard smack was delivered to your ass

you let out a whimper, not expecting him to full on smack your ass??

"thas what you get for listening to those bastards you filthy little slut huh?"

"yes.." you say

"yes what?" he says before delivering another harsh smack on your ass

"yes.. s-sir..?"

"good girl" he says, pulling you up by ypur shoulders, laying you down on the bed gently, which surprised you because ylu thought he was gonna throw you again

you didnt notice him pull out a knofe from his pocket, in an instant, his pocket knife was on your neck, leaving little cuts

you couldnt do anything, your hands were restrained above your head

you could also see quaritch clearly getting hard by the obvious bludge in his pants, it looked like he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through

he pressed his knife ahainst your soft flesh again going a bit deeper, you hiss and you try to get away from his grip only to find his hand meeting your face at what looked like the speed of light, leaving a red mark on your face

"stay silent, or else there wont be a reward" there was a reward? you didnt expect there to be a reward especially by how cruel colonel is

after a few more cuts across your entire body, he stopped setting his knife on your nightstand

"i think ya did well enough" he says

the heat in between your legs burning, spilling with your slick, you were only wearing panties, still in your tshirt

he pressed his hand against your clothed cunt, your panties basically dripping wet at this point

"looks like ya enjoyed it?" you nod

he fingered your clothed cunt, emitting a few moans from you, not silencing you this time

"p-please" you say, you were fed up with his teasing, it was too much

"please what? whatcha want me to do" he says, with a shit eating grin on his face, a grin you wouldnt see even if he killed sully

"please.. touch me?" you say unsure of what you want him to do you just wanted to feel your orgasm

"where" he says, and youve had enough, you grab your panties yo pull them down, tired of his teasing 'for fucks sake' you mumble

"eager i see? here let me-" he says, the moment your panties where on the floor, he grabbed both your thighs splitting them apart

bringing his fingers toward your cunt, circiling the sensetive bud, which was enough to rip a few moans from you

he unexpectedly slipped both of his fingers inside of you at once, making you let out the loudest moan yet, he continues circiling your clit while thrusting both his fingers inside of you

"i-im. g-gonna-" then it stopped, he pulled his fingers out of you "not yet sweetheart, only place youll be cumming is on my cock" he says i. a deep raspy voice

you were flipped onto your stomache ass in the air, you heard metal clinking which you could guess was quaritchs belt coming undone

and soon enough, you felt his cock brush up against your ass, he grabbed it by his hand leading it down to your slick folds, moving it up and down "mmh"

his tip pressed up against your enterance, slowly pushing his length inside of you, you were in a navi body but he was still too big

half his lemgth was pushrd inside of you, stretching your "virgin" walls wider than theyre even been stretched

you werent a virgin in the past, its just that youve never done something like this in this body

quaritch looked down, his braid falling onto his chest, his eyes widened an idea popping in his head

"ya wanna do that thing? the navi thing?" you nodded, too cockdrunk already to even respond, let alone think straight

you frlt your braid being pulled, pink tendrils looking for something to lash onto

you felt the nerves tpuch against something right before you felt a rush of adrenaline in your body, your vision turning white, feeling everything quaritch was feeling

you let out a soft whimper "move" you said, eager for release

he startrd moving softly, each time he bottomed out he touched your cervix, shooting a rush of pleasure accross your body eachtime he touched it, it felt even better because you could feel everything he was feeling

soon enough, he was rutting into you like there was no tommorow, groans emitting from his throat while soft whimpers and moans came out of your mouth

"im gonna cu-" "go ahea-d" a slight crack in his voice, you camr your orgasm shooting across your body, you sae stars for a few seconds, quaritch helping you ride out your high

you felt a warm and sticky substance shoot into your cunt, quaritch loosing rythm of his thrusts, he thrusted into you a few more times, before finally bottoming out

sweat trickling across his and your body, the tsaheylu camr undone, a few seconds after that, quaritch pulled out of you, a thick rope of cunt connecting his cock to your cunt

you collapsed onto your bed, too cockdrunk to process things, by the time quaritch cleaned you up, you were already fast asleep, only to soon be joined by quaritch cuddling eachother to sleep, he never seemed like a cuddly type of guy but i guess i was wrong

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

comment to be added to my taglist and please repost and like :))

#avatar #avatar miles quaritch #mansk x reader #avatar mansk #colonel miles quaritch #recom mansk #atwow #avatar the way of water #recom x reader #atwow smut #quaritch x reader #quaritch imagine #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch x reader #avatar atwow #avatar colonel

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rustonyourfingers · 3 months

Text

I officially lost it, cattonquick invaded my brain, send help (pls don't, I want them to live in my brain forever tee hee).

Sooo, that Oliver tried to kill himself in the maze instead of Felix fic? Absolutely yes, in the works, hopefully, the first chapter will come out this weekend (sorry for the delay, I'm a very slow writer nowadays).

But I already planned out other cattonquick fics, bc focusing on one is too hard, so here are other ideas I'm currently working on! Bc I really, really, really need to share them with someone, or I will lose my mind, I swear.

1. Oxford days, Felix pov – For the first time, instead of hanging out in Felix's room, they're in Oliver's. They're supposed to be studying, but Felix being Felix decides to snoop around instead. Oliver is clearly bothered by that - tries to tell Felix they should study, he should stop, really, they need this essay finished by friday, but when Felix notices that Ollie is simply nervous, he gets even more curious. And here it is - hidden on the highest shelf of the wardrobe, something that is unmistakably a dildo. And isn't that interesting - Oliver is blushing and can't face him; so ofc Felix takes it out and pushes. Teases Oliver, until he's so red, Felix is concerned he'll implode. But the irony is, his first thought isn't even that Ollie likes to take it up the ass, no - but when he realizes that that's why Oliver was so embarrassed, the thought finds home in his mind and stays.

And now Felix can't stop thinking about it: Oliver on his bed, ass up, pumping the dildo in and out, with a blissed out expression. In that vision Oliver moans a name: Felix, Felix, Felix, over and over, and over again, and that's weird, because Felix isn't gay. He's not homophobic, and if Oliver is gay, that's fine, but he is not. Definitely.

So he puts the dildo back where it was hidden and decides to never tease Oliver about it ever again.

But of course that's not the end of it. Bc here Felix is, having the time of his life during some sort of a party, dancing with Ollie, laughing with him as they always do, when the chosen girl for the night not only tells him she's not intrested, she also suggests he should go back to his boyfriend and flirt with him, instead of taking time of some random girls when it is clear nothing will come out of it.

But Ollie is not his boyfriend, how could she even think that! So ofc now he's horny and frustrated, bc his plans for the night just got wrecked; he drinks instead and gets back to his room with his arm around Ollie.

And behind closed doors, the thoughts of Ollie, on his knees, come back. Felix is horny and confused, and Ollie looks especially pretty that night, and in his drunken state sleeping with him seems like a wonderful idea. And they do. And then they actually sleep. And then in the morning Felix is back to panicking and repeating that he is straight, this didn't mean anything, he'll get right back to fucking girls, thank you very much.

And the rest of the fic is these two idiots figuring their shit out. Bc drama and misunderstandings are my jam.

2. Jealous Felix - I think we all agree that scene between Farleigh and Oliver was very hot, but what if, what if Felix catches Oliver sneaking out and later leaving Farleigh's room? What if he spent the whole evening watching the two of them, laying on that couch together, heads so close they were almost kissing? And he's furious, even more so than when he thought Oliver was after Venetia - bc why Farleigh, when Felix was right there?

So yes, he watched Oliver all night and yes, he followed him, when he heard the door to his room open. And yes, he waited for him to leave Farleigh's room and was moments from barging in there and stopping whatever it was that was happening.

And now Oliver needs to explain - and Felix needs to claim what's his, bc if Oliver ever thought he belonged to anyone else, he was dead wrong.

3. A classic Oliver didn't lie fic - bc I need Felix to be the one groveling and apologizing more than I need air. The absolute tragedy of him confronting the poor not in stories, but in real life: of seing all that ruination, all the dirt, and pain, and vomit covering the streets. Smelling the piss, seeing people going through trash. Realizing, for the first time, that this is what Oliver's life looked like before he came to Oxford. This is what he woke up to, every day for as long as he could remember.

Just chef's kiss! My angst loving heart craves it more than anything.

So, that's it for now! I have more ideas lurking in the depths of my mind, but I'm trying not to indulge them. For now. ;)

#cattonquick #fic ideas #saltburn #saltburn spoilers #just thinking about these two #what else is new #i need someone to come kick me in the ass #bc writing all of these is taking way too long #send help #oliver x felix #felix catton #oliver quick

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queenof-curses · 1 year

Text

Kishibe: Paying the Price

Captain Kishibe is right, you'll never be strong enough to kill the Devil that murdered your family. You need to sign a Contract with a Devil fast, but you don't know any that are willing.

Good thing Captain Kishibe is more than willing to help you out, for a price…

Kishibe x Fem!Reader

wc: 3.5k

send me a tip: Ko-Fi

Minors DNI! Explicit Sex, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Cunnilingus, Office Sex, Teacher-Student relationship, Age-gap, a little dark, & NOT beta read!

“Decent work today, thanks to me. You’d be dead if I weren’t here, Kid…”

The older man sighs before taking a swig from his flask.

Whiskey, probably… you thought.

He was right though. If Kishibe weren’t there to check up on you during your mission, that Devil probably would’ve killed you. His next words pull you from your self-reflections,

“If you had train as I taught you, you wouldn’t be in a mess on every fucking mission.” He comments. “You have to take my advice, or you’ll never see your next birthday.”

Captain or not, the old man always seemed to pester you about not having any deals yet with a Devil. Your training up to this point with Kishibe has strictly been physical and strategic, and you were starting to feel the consequences of it all.

You joined Public Safety shortly after your family had been killed by a top Devil, being placed in Tokyo’s Special Division 4, under Captain Kishibe because of your smart and quick thinking. Now though, you wonder if that was a mistake…

You didn’t want to sell a part of yourself to a disgusting Devil, but how do you expect to get any stronger? Maybe the Captain was right after all…

Taking a moment to think it out, you finally decide to take a stance. You have to lose some, to win some- right?

You look up at Kishibe, his eyes slightly hooded and glossy (a state he was always in due to the job + alcohol), waiting for your response.

“I’ll do it.” you firmly decided.

He looks at you confused and you roll your eyes.

“Do what?” He asks.

“I’ll make a contract with a Devil… to get stronger. To kill the one responsible for my family’s murder.” You announce it to him.

You sounded so sure of yourself, a tone that Kishibe realized he hadn’t ever heard from you before. It perked him up a bit from his clouded mind.

He was quite proud, then, seeing you so confident. It was so different from the first day he took you into his division. He knew you were going to be great. But you should know- it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Alright,” he says. “And who do you plan on making a deal with?”

*Silence*

You look at him and think about all the Devils you know that would sign a contract with you… coming up empty. They were all dead!

The old man laughs out loud at that, “You don’t even know any one?!” he asks, incredulous.

“Uhhh… no…” is all you could respond with.

“Well shit Kid,” he pauses to think, scratching the rough stubble on his face. “You’re lucky I like you, I’ve got someone just in mind. But..”

He looks you up and down, eyes slowly raking over your body.

You shuffled under his gaze, adjusting your tight suit. Suddenly, you feel like your tie was choking you. Unable to keep cool under his stare, you feel your face flush red.

“But what?” you hesitantly ask.

“But!” He grins… “you’re gonna have to pay for the contact.”

What, just exactly, is up the Captain’s sleeve?

“H-How?”

“I think you know how.” He moves to leave, calling one last line over his shoulder before leaving you. “My office. 10 o’clock tonight. Wear something easy to remove.”

He doesn’t wait for your response before walking out, leaving you with a shocked expression and a wet spot in your panties.

—

Walking up to the Captain’s office was something you were used to, just not in this context. You were hesitant to come, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were also excited and nervous.

You needed this contact; needed to be strong.

For my family, you think before knocking three times.

*knock knock knock*

“Captain? It’s me…”

“Come in, and close the door behind you.”

You were excitable as you entered.

It was no secret that Kishibe enjoyed his fair share of Alcohol, Devil Hunting, and Women. You just never thought he would find you attractive. He was so much older than you, so much wiser and experienced. Why would you even entertain the idea that he would be interested? Surely this isn’t what you were planning for, right?

Walking into his office, you shut the door softly. Stopping just in front of it, you look at the older man waiting.

Kishibe stood in front of his large, oak desk. His long trench coat was off for once, sitting on the coat rack at the edge of the room. He was wearing the usual uniform of a Devil Hunter, a slim black tie and dress pants. The tight white dress shirt accentuated his muscles, giving his regularly rugged look a more defined stance. His jaw was tense, you could tell even from where you stood.

He’d been waiting for your arrival, and it sent tingles of excitement to your lower parts.

The only light was a desk lamp, illuminating the man from behind and basking his silhouette in a soft yellow glow. The rest of the room was dark; the only occupants being the two of you.

You weren’t sure what to do next, so you stood your ground waiting for further instruction from the man. Your fingers brush against the hem of the short dress you decided to wear. It felt odd to be in this room without your suit and tie on, weapons discarded in the locker room of the building.

You felt exposed in the dress, remembering that your only other articles of clothing were your panties and shoes. A dress this short and tight didn’t have room for a bra, unfortunately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

He watched you play with the short hem, enjoying the visible shyness that crept up your neck. Kishibe was glad you followed instructions, and he admired the tiny playful dress you picked for tonight. He appreciated how your little nipples budded against the thin fabric, and his mouth watered as he thought about sucking on your tits.

Despite his lustful mind, he knew you looked good. The kind of good, he thought, that a girl would choose to go out for a date in.

That wasn’t the plan he had for you tonight, however.

No, tonight he was going to have what he’s been waiting for since the very first time you stepped into this office. He wasn’t a patient man, and he was ready to get started.

He calls your name out loud, his voice making you jump.

“Y-yes, Captain?”

“Come closer, let’s see the pretty little dress you’re wearing.”

You walk towards him, dropping your hands as you make your way over to where he’s leaning against the desk.

Once you’re within arms reach, he grabs you.

Gasping, you suddenly find yourself engulfed in his scent. Cologne and a slight whiskey scent… He smells familiar, you can’t put your finger on it, though. Kind of like home… but do you even remember what home smelled like?

You expect the man to hug you. However, you seem to be wrong.

Your Captain reaches behind your head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling you towards his shoulder. He tilted your chin up towards his face with his other hand, putting you in a helpless position under him.

A thumb comes to caress your jaw as he hummed in admiration, looking deep into your eyes.

“You know, Kid… I know a lot of Devils. I could make you the strongest member of Division 4. You could finally kill the one that murdered your family. But… it’s gonna cost ya. Are you willing to pay?” He asks you.

You spend a moment to think, though you knew your mind was already made up. You’d do anything to kill the Devil that went after your kin. Revenge was your only priority, but was having sex with your Captain something you’d be willing to do?

The yellow light reflects off his earrings and the sparkle catches your eye…

Kishibe really was a good looking man. You thought about him occasionally, mostly on your lonely nights… And although he was much older than you, he had his shit together.

That is, had his shit together besides the alcohol… and the brutality… and the women….

Okay, so he didn’t really have all his shit together. But he was good looking, fit, and willing to make you stronger. So you decide you need him.

You finally give him his answer.

Looking up at him, you lock your eyes with his before answering, “Yes, Captain…”

His smile stretches from ear to ear at that. He looked down at you and gripped your hair tighter. The pain makes you moan out, a sound he easily found himself wanting to hear more of.

“That’s Master to you, Kid…”

You correct yourself, “Yes Master…”

He grins, “That’s right Kid, and I am about to make you a very happy woman.”

Suddenly, he switches your positions. Flipping you around so that your front now faces his desk, he stands behind you. Using your hair as leverage, he yanks your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

Hot, wet kisses are placed along your neck as Kishibe grinded his (from what you can only assume to be) huge bulge against you. His hips push your dress up, exposing the black panties you decided to wear for the night.

He groans against your neck as you push back against him. It was getting heated at a pace you weren’t used to. But you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying the passion of it all. You suddenly found yourself desperate, it was as if there was an aphrodisiac laced in the air of the room.

“Master…” you cry out, pushing your backside against his front.

Soft kisses were replaced by rough bites that soon decorated the side of your neck. Each hickey that he left was meant as a reminder of each time he thought about taking you just like this.

All those times Kishibe wanted to lay you out on the desk before him and mark what’s his. You were under his division, and he wanted to own you in every single way. All those filthy thoughts of his were finally coming true, and he was about to savor every delicious moment of it.

He lifts the rest of your dress over your hips before bending you over his desk. You brace yourself so as to not knock your head on the wooden table. Kishibe wasn’t messing around, you realize from his forcefulness.

You felt the cool air hit the heat of your pussy as he pulled your panties down to your ankles, exposing you to the room.

“Oh god,” you gasp out, realizing his hot breath was panting right against your core.

He must be on the floor, you realize, and therefore must be staring directly at your exposed pussy.

You try moving away, but firm hands come up to massage your backside.

“Don’t even try, Y/n, I want to see you…” He whispers, holding you in place.

His hands felt rough from all the years of Devil hunting he had behind him; his fingers were scratchy against the softness of your behind. His ruggedness only made you wetter, loving the savage-tendencies you knew this man had.

He brings his thumbs towards your core, using them to spread your lower lips apart.

You moan, knowing that he could see everything like this. You were exposed to your Master completely, and you knew what he saw was a wet hole that desperately needed fucking.

“This-” he starts before swiping his tongue from clit to your asshole, “is all mine… Got it, Kid?”

Another swipe of his tongue has you seeing stars. Your knees were weak, on the verge of collapsing against his face. You knew to answer him before he denied what you so desperately seeked.

“Yes, Master!” you cry out.

Kishibe laughs, knowing he has you exactly how he’s always wanted you. Spreading your lips further, he sticks his tongue into your folds.

You scream and thrash against his face as he tongue-fucks your pussy with vigor, his nose rubbing against that other dangerous place as you leak into his mouth and drip down his chin.

“Oh god, yes!” you beg him, “Please Master!”

He drives you insane as he brings a tumb to circle your clit, making buck against him like an animal in heat. The rough stubble of his chin teased your folds as you ground yourself onto his face.

Stopping for a moment, he slowly circles your clit with his thumb- edging you, but teasing your orgasm from completely unfolding.

“Do you want to cum?” he mocks. “Do you want to cream all over my face?”

“Fuck- yes! Please!”

“Please, what Kid?”

“Please, Master!” You cry.

He responds in a tone that is almost threatening. “Then do it.”

Diving his face back into your cunt, he slurps and sucks your pussy, alternating between fucking your little hole and dancing his hot tongue across your clit.

It’s enough to drive you past the point of teasing. Your orgasm hits you like a train as you squirt all over Kishibe’s face, soaking him and the floor below in your juices. He encourages you to keep going.

“That’s it, Kid- fuck my face.”

You rock back against his tongue, riding out your pleasure as you feel the wetness against the rough stubble on his chin. You grinded against his face, enjoying the way he ate your pussy like a man starved.

He slowly licked you clean as you came to. After a few moments, you seem to slow your hips and come back down to Earth.

You were a wet mess. Sweaty and covered in your own cum, you pant to try and catch your breath. Attempts to collect your thoughts were made. However, you knew this man wasn’t through with you just yet.

Kishibe stands up, keeping his hands firmly on your hips. His grip was firm, almost bruising.

You knew better than to move- he wanted you there and you would do anything to please him at this point.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asks you.

You can hear the buckle of his belt jingle as he undoes the strap. The zipper pull is next, and all of a sudden you feel the hot weight of a giant cock sitting against your bare backside.

The heat of his shaft felt like a brand on your skin, and you wiggled your hips to tease the beast.

*slap*

A painful blow comes to your butt, making you yelp out in pain. He didn’t appreciate your teasing.

*slap slap slap*

Your cheeks were on fire as he delivered blow after blow onto your behind. You groaned and moaned underneath him, waiting for his hits to finally end- not daring to move from your spot.

“Now,” he said after a final eighth blow, “What do you want?”

You cry softly, the cracks of his hand that followed too soon after your ograsm left tears in your eyes.

“W-want you, Master!” you say out to him, keeping your eyes fixated on the wall in front of you.

“Want what from me?” He goads.

He’s teasing you, you realize. The embarrassment of this older man making you beg for him pushed the tears over, falling softly onto the desk below you.

“Want you!! I want your cock- Sir, please!” You manage to cry out, but not before feeling inferior under the wrath of his brutality. You were overwhelmed with pain and pleasure; your mind had thoughts of only one thing: Kishibe’s cock.

“If you insist…”

The tip of his shaft runs up and down your wet folds- he coats himself in your juice before stopping at your clit. Circling your little bundle of nerves, he notices how swollen it's become from your prior orgasm. He can’t wait to have you crying for him.

Kishibe had big plans for his little woman. He was not only going to make you great- but make you his completely. He wanted you drunk on his cock; wanted you to cry out for him every night. From here on out, you would be molded to the shape of his shaft.

Bringing his cock towards your entrance, the older man teases your hole. Pressing his tip in and out, keeping it shallow enough for you to become frustrated.

“Please Master! I need it- I need your cum…” you cry out softly, desperate for stimulation.

You were a mess before him, having no idea what you just signed yourself up for.

“Oi Kid, don’t worry…” He smiles down at you. “You’ll get my load and more…”

His hips slam against yours in one movement, sinking his cock into your cunt all at once.

You scream- It’s too much. You didn’t expect him to go down to the hilt in one thrust.

Kishibe was no small man- his body practically towered over yours, and he had a penis to match. He was huge…

Your cunt stretched around him, filling you up as he pushed against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you cry out, the tears spilling down your cheeks rapidly. “It’s too much! I can’t take it…”

“Oh you can,” he responds to your pleas. “You can and you will.”

His next movements match his demanding tone. He’s swift as he pulls out of your pussy only to sink back in. You continue to cry out for him to slow down...

Suddenly, he shifts and thrusts up. His hips push against that rough part inside of you and have your vision going white.

Your cries quickly turn into moans of pleasure as his shaft rubs against it. He knows he’s just found your sweet spot.

With a smirk, he drives himself up into your cunt. Slamming himself inside of you over and over again. He fucks you on his desk as if you were the last woman in the world.

Soft cries fall from your lips as you mumble about how much you love it, how much you want his cum inside of you.

He barely hears what you’re saying over the slapping sounds of his hips meeting your backside, the squelching sounds of your wet cunt quivering around his hard cock.

“Fuck- Kid, you’re gonna make me fucking cum soon.” He says, not being able to hold back his strength.

He drives into you hard and fast, relishing the way your warm walls welcome his hard shaft. The grip he has on your hips is solid as he sets a brutal pace.

“Fucking do it- please, cum in me! I’ll do anything,” you beg him, reminding him of his original deal. “I’ll do anything please, cum in me- I want to be strong!”

“Oh you’ll be the strongest, Kid…I’ll fucking bathe you in my seed.”

“Fuck… please.. Fill me up, I’ll let you cum as much as you want…”

Your last statement seemed to seal the deal with Kishibe. You rocked back against his thrusting hips, meeting his body with equal excitement and endeavor.

“Shit, I-I’m gonna cum…” he manages to growl out.

His pace begins to get sloppy as he feels himself come undone. With one final thrust, Kishibe buries himself inside of your waiting cunt. He fills you with his seed- coating your insides with hot cum.

Swaying against him, you milk his cock with all that you can. Squeezing around him tightly, you make sure to try and collect every drop he gives you, putting on a show with your hip movements. He filled you deliciously, your insides felt hot and full.

All he can do is groan as you take control- he was completely fucked out and absolutely mesmorized by your little winking asshole below him. He stared down at it as you continued to drain him.

Oh he had plans for that, too. You were to be his in all ways after this.

After a few moments, you feel him remove himself from your body. With his weight gone, you could feel yourself drip in his release and knew he was watching.

Kishibe couldn’t help himself as he found himself on the floor, sitting in the same position that he had been in to eat you out just moments before. With his thumbs once again separating the pussy lips of your swollen cunt, he looked directly into the deepest parts of you. The same parts that his cock was just buried in. He couldn’t help his lewd thoughts as he realized he was getting hard once more.

You let him watch your hole leak onto the floor in submission… You realize that you’d let him do just about anything at this point, loving the way you felt under his demanding gaze.

“Master…” you whisper out, not too sure what you were asking for.

“Shhh…” he says, voice hushed. “I’m about to make you a very strong Devil Hunter.”

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#chainsaw man #kishibe x you #kishibe x reader #Csm #kishibe #chainsaw man smut #queenofcursesfanfic #chainsaw man fanfiction #chainsawman x reader #csm kishibe #captain kishibe #kishibe imagines #kishibe smut #older kishibe #chainsawman anime #csm fanfic

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cressthebest · 30 days

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 1

chapter 1:

1. holy shit i guess we’re starting off with regulus already knowing that sirius chooses james over him.

2. i love that there’s the comment of sirius cackling like a madman on camera at being the victor. great callback to his wanted poster in canon

3. damn not effie having been a victor as well

4. oh shit oh damn. james has plans to make sure reg gets out. and james expects to not make it. this already hurts

5. “Most people don't know when they'll get to hug their parents for the last time. James does.” AHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK THAT HURTS

6. god, sirius having to choose which one he wants to help survive hurts. especially cause he knows it comes down to wanting to survive, not skill.

7. "The games started the moment your name was called, and they don't end until you're dead” AHHHHHH everything hurts already

8. goddd the tension between james, reg, and sirius is just SO MUCH. this is so good

9. god the fact that this time it’s sirius having to say goodbye to regulus and james instead of reg and james having to say goodbye to sirius. just fucking stab me ig

chapter 2:

1. OMG i just got it. the capital is called the hallows in this!! like the deathly hallows! clever author

2. and this reg vs james hatred is gonna turn into a relationship??? i can’t wait to see it

3. OMG IS THE HALLOW GONNA BE A CASTLE LIKE HOGWARTS????

4. OOOOOH I JUST GOT TO THE “i won’t hesitate” LINE!! I SAW ALL YALL TALKING ABOUT THIS. i can’t fucking wait

5. i recognize the name fabian from a different fic 🤔 if someone can tell me, that would be great

6. wait i’m a dumbass. it’s fabian and gideon. the prewett twins 😭😭😭

7. ☹️ he’s taking james glasses and making him wear contacts

8. not james threatening to kill fabian if he cuts his hair 😭😭

9. oh i see how the romance is gonna come in. james laid eyes on reg in his suit and fell head over heels

10. red and green suits like slytherin and gryffindor

11. the immediate reaction reg has to james not having glasses. chefs kiss

12. oh the immediate disgust i felt when realizing that riddle (voldemort) is head of the hallows

13. oh god the death eater masks. i can’t deal with this shit

14. REMUS LUPIN ALERT REMUS LUPIN ALERT OH MY GOD I LITERALLY AM LOSING MY SHIT

15. “When Sirius pours his wine, he pours a lot.” LMAO

#marauders #mwpp #fanfic #ao3 #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #sirius black #remus lupin #crimson rivers #cress’ cr reviews

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xxnghtclls · 7 months

Text

Permission

Chapter 38

(Chapter 37; Chapter 39)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

Dessert

Knock

Fuck.

You jump, not expecting to hear someone knocking at the door, especially not in this particular moment. Sukuna, however, grabs your hand before it can slip away and presses his arm against your back.

No way out. He’s got you in his hold.

And he chuckles, amused by your cute way of stressing out, while you wiggle in his hold like a fish on dry ground, not wanting to be seen like this. The door slides open and you hold your breath. Staring at your fingers pressed into his grip, you hear a maid walking slowly into the room with a cart.

Goddamn his dinner. I forgot.

His nails scratch softly against the small of your back, while your face is pressed against the side of his chest. A bit too harsh for your taste, he’s making it hard for you to breathe.

You manage to peek to the maid and you see Akiko, walking with her head held low, like she’s supposed to. Relief spreads in your gut, remembering her words and enjoyment about you and your King, making you lose your tension a bit.

However, the shy feeling in your chest is still there. Especially when he holds you like that.

She pauses for a second after she placed the cart right in front of the small tea table. Kneeling down, she collects the ceramics and puts the table onto the lower level of the cart, ready to be taken back to the kitchen in the morning. She leaves the bowl with the apples next to Sukuna’s prepared plates and you like to think she left them for you, before she turns around and walks back and out of the door, with the now cold teapot and cups in her arms.

“Tidy.” he comments as soon she’s out.

“Lemmego.” you mumble against his skin and he huffs, before he loosens his grip on you and you sit up, sighing out the anxiety.

After a moment his lips find your right shoulder.

“Why so nervous?” he whispers. “You said you want to be my Queen. Then start acting like one.”

Your heart drops and your face looses it’s colour, as his words vibrate against your skin.

Did he really mean it?

“No one is allowed to look until I say so. You of all people should remember that.” he continues.

You feel his red eyes stare at the side of your cheek, as he kisses your shoulder. His voice and words so dear and soft, you want to melt.

“I felt vulnerable.” you admit, trying to keep focus after what he just said. “Shy…”

He huffs softly against your skin, the warm air from his nose gives you goosebumps.

“…because I’m naked, lying in your arms… my hand playing with yours.” a blush rises to our face. “It felt intimate and…” you hesitate.

“Mhh?”

“… romantic.” your cheeks are cooking.

He chuckles, before he bites your shoulder and you flinch. Sukuna leans in and his lips brush against your ear.

“Cute.” he whispers with a smirk.

You turn to him and frown at him questioningly.

“You never feel vulnerable, do you?” you say, making him grin playfully, while shrugging his shoulders.

“No weakness, no fears.” you continue, while you watch him. His eyes lock with yours again, his eyebrow cocks at your words.

And he stares.

Your heart skips a beat, making you almost crumble under the weight of his gaze.

Shit.

“Oh!” you exclaim, putting an overacted expression on your face. “What if it’s me?” you dramatically put your right hand on your heart, notice how he frowns at you with amusement and soft eyes. You try your best to overplay this situation, hoping that your heart will survive any hint from him that you are, in fact, his one and only.

“What if I get hurt? What if someone stabs me to death?” you continue your dramatic act and let yourself fall back onto the sheets, putting the back of your left hand on your forehead. “Will the great Ryomen Sukuna avenge my soul?”

In the corner of your eye, you see Sukuna leaning over to you, while you continue.

“Will the King of Curses mourn my dead and lifeless body? The body of the woman he lov-“

“If you only knew.” he cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks tightly, his face hovering close over yours and you realise that your attempt to overact just made the situation worse. Heart is beating heavily against your ribcage, as you look with big eyes into his smirking face.

“Knew what?” a voiceless whisper escapes your throat.

His smirk grows and he chuckles darkly, before he kisses the tip of your nose and loosens the grip on your cheeks. You try to focus, after what he just said, as he gets up, but your eyes get lost in the way his ass moves with every step he takes, while he walks over to the cart.

And you get up as well, watch him take the first bite of something human, as you approach him. You let your fingers brush against his buttcheeks, feeling his soft skin and fine hairs beneath your fingertips, as you walk past his back, making your way to the bowl of apples. Reaching for one of them, his deep voice suddenly hits your ears.

“Eat with me.”

His request makes you smile, as you’re about to bite into the fruit.

“Of course, my Ki-“ your words get stuck in your throat, as you look over to him and see him offering you a piece of meat.

Not a finger. Not the heart. Just a slap of meat. Like a steak.

Your lip is trembling, unsure how to react or what to say. Looking from the meat in his hands, back up to his eyes, you see his honest face, his eyebrow risen in expectation, as he bites off a chunk of another piece.

“Is this how your Queen would act? Eat with you?” you ask him.

A sinister grin spreads on his face as he continues to chew, his eyes start glowing. Sukuna swallows and cocks his eyebrow.

“Maybe.” he hisses.

You blink, looking back to the slap of meat in his hands.

Bloody. Red colour staining his fingers.

You lean in and sniff.

It smells how you would imagine a raw, bloody piece of meat to smell like. Inedible.

“Do you know who it is?” you ask, not leaning back.

“No.” he answers. “Do you care?”

His fingers softly squeeze against the meat, more juices are being pressed out by his force.

“No.” you answer truthfully, hypnotised by his fingers. It’s been a while since you ate something decent and it’s showing. Having you even considering to bite into this piece of human meat is something you wouldn’t do otherwise.

Just go into the kitchen.

Eat the apple.

Crack.

Sukuna bites into a finger, his hand still holding the meat under your nose.

It doesn’t look like it’s… human.

Eat the apple…

You blink.

…or be his Queen.

Your stomach rumbles, saliva pools in your mouth. Sukuna watches you, calm, chewing, while you open your mouth and let your teeth close around a tiny edge. He stops chewing, his stare so intently. You look up to him and rip the piece off. His lip twitches in excitement, before the mouth on his stomach opens and swallows the remaining piece.

And you chew.

The tiny piece doesn’t taste much different than blood. The texture not much different than regular meat.

But it’s not about the meat. It’s about the step you took.

For him.

The devotion.

The Queen and her King.

You swallow.

Disgusting.

Evil.

Your insides churn, before your attention is brought back to Sukuna, whose bloody fingers wrap around your chin and he leans in quicker than you can react. His lips meet yours, his tongue slides into your mouth, licks over your tongue, tasting and savouring you. His motions calm and tender, it makes your knees weak. He purrs, while he breaks the kiss.

“Mhmmm. This taste on your tongue.” he mumbles, his voice vibrates against your lips. “Raw.”

“Please don’t get used to it, my King.” you whisper earnestly into his eyes and they grow soft, wrinkles paint into his skin.

I love you.

His eyebrow twitches at your thought and you can’t help to think that he looks so in love with you as well, so happy that you’re there with him in his chambers. Your heart flutters.

Sukuna straightens his back again and you notice his fleshy cocks in front of you. Veins protruding, pumping blood slow and steady. Looking delicious. And you’re salivating again, staring.

“Still hungry?” he whispers.

“Yes.” a voiceless whisper, before you rip your eyes off his dicks to look up to his face, seeing him about to bite into the next finger, while his bottom left eye keeps watching you.

Crack.

“And I see you are, too.” you add. “So it’s true. That insatiable hunger of yours.”

He chuckles, before he swallows.

“Maybe you have it, too.” his voice so arrogant, as he turns back to you. “I can basically see the spit pooling in your mouth.”

Your eyes fall back down to his ever growing cocks.

“How can I not?” you whisper with a smirk on your face, making him chuckle.

Sukuna leans back down to you and places a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Be careful not to bite.” your King hisses into your ear, before he turns and walks back to the bed. Eyes glue themselves to his ass, as he walks, only being ripped off of it, as he lets himself drop onto the soft surface. A carnally desire sparks in your mind and you rush after him, hopping onto the bed.

“Turn around.” you order with a nudge of your head.

Sukuna frowns at your sudden command, before a smirk crawls back on his lips. You cock your eyebrow in expectation, while he just stares at you, not moving an inch.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” you say sternly, hoping he won’t be mad.

His lip twitches, as his smirk fades and his eyes grow dark. Your King leans forward, close to your face.

“Watch that little mouth.” he threatens with a voice that’s not threatening at all, not for you at least, before he turns around and lays on his stomach, crossing his upper arms in front of him, while his bottom arms just rest next to him.

You smirk in victory, while climbing onto his ass, straddling it, before leaning forward.

“Watch it? Gonna make you feel it.” you whisper hungrily into his ear. “…my King.” you add, before placing a kiss onto his left shoulder, earning a deep grumble from his chest.

“Gonna make you feel my lips and teeth and tongue.” you hiss against his neck.

His head turns a little, his bottom left eye staring at you. You notice and place a kiss on his cheek, before you lean back again, feeling his plush buttocks against your cunt.

And you take in the sight, his pretty back in front of you, his stare in the corner of your eye, not knowing whats coming next. Your eyes wander from the back of his neck, over his tattoos, to his shoulders. The way his four arms split from his body fascinates you.

Beautiful.

You watch the curve of his back, how muscular he is, until your eyes stop right in front of you, at the crack of his ass.

“My King?” you say softly, before looking back up to his face.

“What is it?” he grumbles and you suppress a grin. He sounds so lost and impatient.

“You’re beautiful.” you answer honestly, making him snort.

“You climbed onto my ass just to tell me that?” he says, as he rises his head and looks questioningly at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t act like you don’t like me saying that.” you tease. “I know it’s honey in your ears.”

He cocks his eyebrow at you and you bore your eyes into his, knowing you are right. Sukuna eyes you up and down, before the corners of his mouth twitch in a suppressed smirk, before he lays back down, burying his face back into his arms.

You lean forward and kiss the back of his neck, his hairs tickling against your nose.

“I know you love me saying that.” you breathe, your voice so smooth. “And I know you love it’s me saying that.”

He purrs at your words, his breath elevating, getting deeper.

Yes. He loves it.

“My Love.” you whisper, before you start to place kisses down his spine, notice the little fine hairs on his stand up, as you do so.

Your hands trace down his sides so tenderly, while you arrive at the small of his back. Lips find the dimples right above his butt crack, kissing them softly. His purrs grow more intense.

Left. Right.

Fingers dig into his hips, before you go lower. Your lips find the soft skin of his left butt cheek. Kissing it, it entices another purr from his chest. Going over to the other cheek.

Another kiss. Another purr.

You lean back, only to take in the sight in front of you. His ass is so pretty, soft and…

Slap!

“Oy!” he grumbles from beneath his arms.

“Oops.” you imitate him, making yourself chuckle.

He smacks his lips in annoyance, before you lean in and take a gentle bite. His hips twitches in response and you hear a muffled hiss coming from his face. No complains.

Alright.

You dive in, kneading, kissing and biting and licking his cheeks, feeling the soft tissue move underneath your fingers, lips and teeth and tongue.

And he groans softly at your actions, his gentle noises making you so happy.

You lower your head, making your tongue slip in between his thighs, feeling his perineum and his balls squeezed between his legs. Gently licking the area, you feel a shudder coming over him.

Another hiss. Another groan.

Oh he likes that.

You move further up, exchange your tongue with your fingers and continue to brush them tenderly against the area, over his balls to his perineum and back, while you let your tongue slowly move to the crack, feeling the edge of his hole.

Only one.

You decide not to tease him for it, not wanting him to stop you in your tracks and possibly throwing you out of your chambers. Instead, you circle it with the tip of your tongue, while still stroking the skin between his legs. An open mouthed groan fills the room, while you continue.

Circle. Circle.

His hips start moving slowly, rubbing his needy dicks across the mattress below you. Your face is buried into his ass, while you keep licking and then you dip in.

“Fuck.” he groans into his pillow, as he keeps rubbing himself onto the mattress, causing him to simultaneously fuck himself onto your tongue. Sukuna’s left leg shifts, lifting off his weight from his swollen cocks and you’re quick to slip your left hand underneath his hips. They’re so hard and pulsating against your hand, it makes you moan against his hole. Sticky fluid sticks against your fingers, as you brush over his tips and you start to feel your walls swelling up as well. He purrs and groans so loud, keeps rubbing himself against your hand, the mattress and your tongue, until he grows impatient.

“Get off!” he orders from under his arms, making you remove your tongue from his hole and raise your head. Hissing at the loss of friction against his hole, he turns around and quickly leans forward, kneeling in front of you, grabs your face and kisses you harshly.

“I need your throat.” he mouths so needy against your lips, while he grabs a fistful of your hair with his upper right hand. “Deep and tight.”

You can’t do anything, but to moan at his rough actions and words, your mind already high from his behaviour and the arousal felt between you two, as he harshly pushes your head down.

Having his cocks already aligned with his bottom left hand, you let yourself being pushed easily onto his bottom one.

And you take it, happily, pushing it as deep as you can inside of your throat.

His meat fills you up and you love it, taking it so hungrily, sucking sloppily on his cock, making him moan, so deep and guttural, his noises letting you know that he loves how you treat him. You moan back, letting your voice vibrate against his sensitive and needy tip deep inside your throat, while he let’s his hand rest on the back of your head.

“Aghh, taking me so well, so deep.” he hisses. “Y/n.” he moans and you feel like you could cum untouched, hearing the way he says your name in such a praising manner.

“Treating and sucking me so nice and good, like a Queen should.” he continues and you feel, as if your juices start could start dripping onto the sheets any moment.

So wet. Just hearing his words.

You whine against his dick, dig your nails into his thighs, while he pumps the upper dick himself.

“Maybe I should truly make me yours, make you my Queen.” he grunts in pleasure, completely lost in your throat, before pushing your head down even more, making his words follow a long open mouthed moan.

Tears pool in your eyes, as you hear his words and as you try your best not to gag. However, hearing him being in a bliss like this and using you to his liking, it makes you feel so wanted by the man you love.

And right now, that’s all you need.

You notice that his left upper arm is moving over your body, before you feel his palm and his tongue against your oozing cunt. The badly needed touch against your plush and sensitive folds makes you moan so loud against the cock inside your throat, makes him moan with you.

Sukuna yanks your head back up, your mouth loses his dick and you look at him with teary eyes, tongue lolling out, as a string of spit still connects you to him.

And he continues to lick your cunt with his hand, making you tremble in his hold, making you dig your nails deeper into his thighs, as he drowns in the sight of you. His almost black eyes stare at you, his mouth open slightly, almost drooling, as he tastes you with his hand and fucks you with his tongue.

And you moan into his eyes, your body being curved almost unnaturally from the position he’s putting you in. He’s hovering over you, so tall, forcing you to look up into his face, holding your head in your neck by your hair, while he pushes simultaneously against your cunt.

God.

You love him so much and what he does to you. This evil curse of a man, this calamity that took your heart and makes you eat. You love him. So much and dearly, you could never be without him again. And you hope he thinks the same about you.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum on his tongue, the arousal that has been increasing over the course of the last hour, makes it so easy, as his wet muscle keeps fucking and fucking and you keep clenching and clenching, until you snap. Crying your orgasm into his eyes, while painting your own face red from pleasure and love, you shake in his hold, while he just watches you come undone.

You’re not done moaning and twitching from your orgasm, as he roughly pushes your head back down onto his upper cock and starts thrusting a few times into your mouth.

And if feels like you could cum again. You continue suck him so deep and wet, the feeling when he hits the back of your throat drives you crazy.

“Lil‘ slut.” he grunts breathless, as he stops. “Getting wet all over again.”

You hum, but your mind is blank, while he says his words and starts to lick the new juices from your hole. Mindlessly, you take his bottom cock into your left hand and start smearing his precum and your spit all over his tip, while massaging its underside occasionally. Sukuna’s breaths are getting shaky, you feel his thighs and stomach tensing up, the more and more you suck and touch and massage. His moans are becoming louder and louder, until he suddenly pushes you off his dick and pushes himself up on his knees, his dicks now being right above your face, as he pumps them aggressively with both of his left hands.

And you look at him from below, his hand still in your hair. You’re so ready for his cum, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him. Your eyes meet one last time, before his breaths grow so fast, shaking so hard, before he starts singing his release into the room. His head briefly falls back into his neck, as beautiful, raspy, jittering moans and grunts fill your ear, while he fills your mouth and face with his cum. It feels warm and tingly against your skin. He looks back at you, not wanting to miss the sight, while his hands keeps pumping and squeezing, slow and steady, not keeping a single drop inside his dicks.

Sukuna calms down and you swallow, making him huff at the sight of your decorated face.

“Look at you.” he says in a soft voice, watching your for a moment, before he grabs your face in both of his upper hands and leans down.

To your surprise, you feel his tongue against your skin, as he starts licking off his cum. It doesn’t take long, until his right hand moves to your jaw and pushes his fingers at your cheeks, making you open your mouth.

And he spits. Spits his own cum back into your mouth.

“Swallow.” he orders in a deep voice.

You press your thighs together and comply, closing your mouth and swallow his fluids, a mix of spit and his cum. He watches you with half lidded eyes, satisfied with your actions, while you stare back.

I’m his.

“I love you.” you whisper, while looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

Sukuna’s lip twitches softly and he gently squints his eyes, as soon as he hears your words. He opens his mouth, as if he wants to answer. But, he pauses, stares at you so intently and after a moment, all you get is a squeeze on your heart.

“Say it.” you whisper and you can’t help to think, that he looks a bit like he was caught.

“Say what?” he smirks and you know he’s playing again.

“Asshole.” you pout and his smirk grows, before he starts to chuckle and gently pats your cheek twice.

“Asshole.” Sukuna repeats in his most mocking tone, before he leans back and lets himself slump into his pillows. You watch him cross his upper pair of hands behind his head, a satisfied smirk on his face, as he closes his eyes.

After crawling up to him, you force yourself back into his bottom left arm. Making yourself comfortable, you lean your face against his chest and let your fingers gently brush against his used dicks, while they grow soft again. He purrs softly, while your fingers touch him and you let them wander further down to his balls, cupping them.

They feel so soft.

Suddenly they contract and you look up to your Kings face, only to see him even more satisfied, purring louder, smirk grows wider.

“Continue.” he purrs.

You’re confused, but you continue and watch him in fascination. He seems like he’s like pudding in your hand, relaxing and enjoying your touch so much, like a dog that’s getting his tummy rubs.

Speaking of tummy.

A growl rumbles through yours and you are again reminded, that you didn’t eat something decent in a while. Sukuna peeks through his upper left eye at you and you look back to him.

You blush, before removing your hand from his balls and use it to press his cheek against your lips.

“I’ll be right back, my Love.” you whisper, before you get up and dressed and out of his room.

#permission #permission chapters #true form sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna x you #true form sukuna x reader #fanfiction #slowburn #romance

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bisexual-horror-fan · 5 months

Text

Do-Over-December 8th. Threesome. "Share And Share Alike." Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Ray Valentine X AFAB! Reader.

SO! I know this is two days late but fuck it, I had some IRL shit going on pertaining to my current shitty job not giving a single fuck about my personal safety, so shit got nuts. On we go with Kinky December 's do over. Anyway, so this is the first thing I wrote with both Chuck and Tiff a while before I even started Through The Heart Is The Only Way, it was fun coming back to it and fixing it up! I hope you all enjoy it!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.4K (Old Length.3.1K) Warnings: Public Sex. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Blood. Violence. Murder. Vaginal Fingering. Cunnilingus. Dirty Talk. Teasing. Rough Oral Sex. Blow Job. Vaginal Sex. Strap-On Sex. Sex Toys. Threesome. Smoking. Chucky Is A Bastard, Tiff Is An Angel, What Else Is New?

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How the three of you met was quite unusual. It was most assuredly not a traditional meet-cute that lead you to getting to know them.

You were working late one night which was strange enough as it was, you normally are not one to do the closing shift, it was a long and hard day, retail work was so damn tedious and tiring. You were almost out of here though, about to pack up and leave, the mall you worked at was almost totally empty by this point, the cleaning tonight ran long after your hectic day. Cleaning like this was not even a usual task, but the dedicated cleaner called out sick, so you had to step up. You were just returning something to the back and grabbing your shit, you would be out of here. No one else was around, or so you thought.

You were walking across the tiled floor, the back of the house finally in sight, and you started to lose your footing, something wet underneath your shoes making you slip, your arms flying out, steadying yourself quickly, you managed to avoid falling, a close call. You breathed a sigh of relief at your near miss and looked down to see-

Blood.

Your mouth feels dry, your brows furrow, and you are shocked. It was unmistakable. Thick and syrupy and deep red, near black, the smell of iron hits as you looked around and could hear something, you weren’t actually as alone as you initially thought. You swallowed thickly, and your eyes flicked to the door nearby.

You could leave.

Just run and go home and forget you ever saw this-

Eyes back down and you cursed under your breath. Your shoes were in the blood, you’d track footprints, how would you explain yourself? A deep breath as you thought for a moment.

And then you decided to say fuck it and see if you could find the source. Not the smartest of ideas, but you didn’t have many options. The phone was in the backroom, you couldn’t call for help, and you’d try to be quiet. You proceeded forward carefully and quietly until you found just what you were looking for-but not what you expected to see at all.

There was a body, the source of the blood, yes, but there was something that was much more eye-catching in this aisle. Seems whoever did this wasn’t alone. Now, on an average day? You laying your eyes on this couple would have made you stare but catching them like this? You stopped dead and couldn’t move, transfixed by this couple a few feet away, thus far unaware of your presence.

They were both a little bloody and, as it seems, currently having what looks to be very passionate and intense sex against the shelves in this aisle, mere feet away from this poor victim.

The woman of the couple was fucking gorgeous, blond hair and dark lipstick and killer make up, dark clothes with a gothic kind of vibe with undeniable style, skirt hiked up and a heel on one of the lower shelves. She had her hands on the man, one fisted in his long red hair and the other gripping the back of his jacket, fuck, even her manicure looked perfect. And while she was something to marvel at, you were still drawn to the man currently drawing those sounds from her, hushed, but you could still hear them in the deathly quiet store.

One hand under her thigh, holding her leg up, the other one of the shelves near her head, what you figured was the murder weapon, a bloody knife still clenched in his fist as he fucked into her. He was still mostly dressed, pants barely pulled down enough to get inside of her, his jacket still on, obviously both needing each other right then, and you were unbelievably into the sight of them together.

Her head lolled back, the most delicious sounding moan crossing her lips as her head now rested against one of the shelves and her eyes that were previously closed open, and she caught sight of you. You should have hid a little better. The two of you made eye contact, and you contemplated running, she tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and said, “Chucky-we aren’t alone.”

Fucking God above, her voice.

The man, Chucky apparently, stilled and looked over his shoulder at you, he seemed none too pleased about being interrupted like this if that intense look was anything to go by, could you recall a time you saw eyes more blue than his? Okay, shit, what was wrong with you right now? He looked about ready to pounce and kill you for disturbing this and for catching them post murder and mid-fuck, and you were over here thinking about how fucking good they both looked.

“Seems like we ain’t.” his voice too, yeah, you were in deep trouble.

You were frozen in place still, your mind was racing however, you noticed he clenched that knife tighter, and that beautiful blonde woman looked almost excited and urged him on, “Do it.”

You knew it was do-or-die time, you said quickly, before he could make a move,“I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone!”

A scoff and stifled laughter, your heart is hammering as he rolled his eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed, he spoke first, “Oh never heard that one before right, Tiff?”

That wasn’t a good sign. They were both using their names in front of you, uncensored, obviously unconcerned about you identifying them, their intention to kill you is crystal clear.

“Oh yeah, never, ever heard that one. Real original.” He said is so sarcastically as her laughter was dying off. You need to implore them, appeal to their humanity if you have any hope of getting out of this. Yet to this day you still weren’t 100% sure where this next part came from, but you said,“I can help cover this up! I’ll help, so if I talk I’ll be in just as much trouble.”

You said it with such conviction. They shared a look, confused, clearly. She spoke first, this time looking back over to you, “Now that’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“Yeah. Now, why would you want to do somethin’ like that?”

It took a lot of guts to be honest, you weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold, you so weren’t normally like this. I mean, who does this? Stumbling upon a couple who just killed someone and instead of any normal reaction, fear or just anything, you were turned on.

Fuck it. You might die tonight, why not lay it all out there? You had nothing to lose.

“Because I…I want in on this-” You gestured vaguely and cleared your throat, “You know?”

It took a moment for the realization to hit, but yeah, they both knew. He smirked and said, “No, I don’t think I know. Why don’t you tell us?”

Fuck.

They made you spell it out.

It’s hard, but you do as they wanted, you tell them in a rush, “This, I want to be with you…Both of you, I-I want it so badly that I’ll help you cover this up, just let me prove myself, prove I’m worth your time and the trouble.”

Oh, they liked you.

Just from that they liked you, but when they had you between them, cemented it. The way you gasped when Tiffany fingered you and the way you trembled and moaned when Chucky had you bent over and gripping one of the shelves still standing in the pool of blood they had spilled was something special. You were hot and fun, and took direction well too.

Disposing a body with three was also easier than when it’s just them. They kept seeing you, and you just kinda slipped into it, they were already together, and you ended up becoming their third.

They filled you in on what happened that night after the fact, some asshole that they had almost taken out, but he managed to run off, he took off into the backdoor of your store, and they had caught him and killed him right there. You realized your co-worker had left the backdoor open earlier when they took the garbage out which gave the two their way in, you normally scolded said co-worker for such carelessness, but now you were thankful they fucked up that night, or you might have never met them.

So that was how you met.

You had been seeing them for months now, you had essentially moved in. Holidays fast approaching, they had been out earlier doing some shopping, you had been as well, fussing trying to figure out what would be the best to get for them but coming up empty thus far. You had got home before them, had started making dinner when they both came in, you heard bags dropped near the door. You had come out of the kitchen to greet them and noticed the pair of them are a little dishevelled, if it was someone else, someone who was not you, who wasn’t used to looking for those signs they might have missed it.

But not you.

You noticed the smudged flecks of blood and the tension, the overall energy, it was always like this when they came home after another kill. It reminded you of how you met. And the other nights they came home after that kind of thing, it made you squirm.

“Hey sweet thing.”

You loved how she said that when Tiffany greeted you walked over to you first, heels clicking on hardwood and her hands on your face, her gloves felt soft and cold as she kissed you. Your hands reaching out and gripped her coat as you tilted up more into the kiss, fuck, it felt good. She pulled away, hands still on your face, and you were looking into her eyes and she asked, “How was your day?”

“Good.” You responded with a soft smile before asking,“Yours?”

“Wonderful. Better to be home.” She was always so sweet to you, so caring, your gaze broke away, and you saw Chucky there taking his scarf and jacket off and hanging them up. From the body language you could tell just where this was going, you looked back to Tiffany, and she said, “Go to the bedroom, we’ll be in a minute. Okay?”

You didn’t need to be told twice. A quick nod and her hands left you as you scurried off to the bedroom.

Sitting on the bed, waiting like this. It always got to you. It was always intense when they came home after a kill. You didn’t like knowing all the details, but you couldn’t help being curious about it, if you asked they would tell you, but you didn’t always ask.

Curiosity got the better of you tonight.

Soon you were pressed between the two of them, not in a dissimilar fashion to how you were that first night and so many others afterwards. Tiffany was behind you, leaning against the headboard, her fingertips tracing lightly over exposed skin, and you had your back to her chest as your pants were being pulled off by Chucky. You could go on and on about Tiffany’s beauty, but there was something about him that couldn’t be ignored either. Something about the look in his eyes or how he spoke to you, his hair, maybe it was all of it that made him so attractive to you? A deep breath from you before you asked quietly, “How’d it go this time?”

You knew they hadn’t planned on doing anything like that when they went out today, but sometimes things just happened, it was supposed to just be shopping, not slashing more than just prices. They loved to tell you, Chucky in particular liked it, he liked it best when you asked during these times, clothes being stripped away as they touched you. He liked how much you squirmed, almost ashamed by how much you wanted to hear about it while they did this.

Holiday shopping could always get crazy, some asshole pissed Chuck off, not like that was hard to do, and it was easy enough to get him into an alley and of course he had his knife on him and that was that. You had been stripped by this point, re-positioned, on your knees, Tiffany still leaning into your back, whispering in your ear as her hand was between your legs, touching you softly, fingers stroking through your folds, “Always get so wet when we tell you about it.”

“Mmm they must really like it.” Chucky mused.

They both liked to tease you about how into this you were and that always made it worse, made you want to hide your face and your head dipped down and Chucky didn’t like that. Grabbed by your hair, head forced back up making you look at him in the eyes and he asked, “Do you like it?”

Tiffany stopped touching you causing you to whine, she kissed your temple and she said low, “C’mon, if you want more, you gotta answer him.”

You squirmed and Tiffany slipped her other hand around to palm one of your breasts as encouragement, you forced it out, saying, “Yes I-I like it.”

That was what he wanted to hear, it made him smirk, so smug and self-satisfied, he kept gripping your hair as he pulled you down, you had one hand around him, had been stroking him while they had told you about it, and now he wanted more. You wanted to give and give as much as they gave to you, your mouth opening and tongue running over the head of his cock as you kept looking up at him, and Tiffany resumed touching you. Once you slipped his head past your lips he sucked a harsh inhale through his teeth and as Tiffany’s skilled fingers circled your clit you moaned against him and fuck, it all just felt right.

Being shared by them was fucking amazing. You loved the dynamic of it all. Particularly for moments like this.

You had been going at your own pace but good ol’ Chuck had gotten tired of that, pulling you towards him with his hand still on your head and his hips thrusting forward into your mouth, being rough and taking his pleasure how he wanted it from you, Tiffany touching you and being so sweet and soft, encouraging. “You take it so well, sweetheart, look at you.”

One hand stroking down your back gently as she had two fingers fucking in and out of you, one particularly hard thrust into your mouth made you gag a little and that made Tiff click her tongue disapprovingly and speak up, “Why are you always so rough with them?”

A laugh from him, another thrust, harder, another gag from you and he responded, “What? They like it! Don’tcha?”

A hard pull on your hair, another thrust that made your eyes roll back, and you clenched down on Tiffany’s fingers with a nod. You did love it, adored the dichotomy of the two of them being with you at once, “See?”

The look on his face, once again, smug as hell, a shit eating grin, he knew the effect he could have on you, how much him being so hard on you while Tiffany showed you such softness and affection, got to you. He could feel it in every look and action, every single touch and movement.

You swear you could feel Tiffany roll her eyes behind you, her thumb rubbed over your clit as her fingers curled inside of you, making you whine all over again as she said, “Asshole.”

You weren’t sure why, but you loved how they talked to each other, the light kind of teasing they did, banter and name-calling, sometimes a little too harsh, yet you could tell the undeniable love under the surface.

Such a mess by this point, drool running down your chin from the throat fucking, hair messier from how Chucky had been holding it, deep purple lipstick marks left over your skin from Tiffany kissing you. There was mess on your thighs, shaking, already very needy.

“She ready?”

You were. She asked, “Mmm you want it sweetie?” You nodded once, mouth still stuffed full of cock, and that is how you ended up now.

This right here was one of your favourites. On your hands and knees, getting fucked, strong hands on your hips, pulling you back onto him as your face was buried between your girlfriend’s thighs. Tiffany loved how hard you tried, it was difficult to maintain a good rhythm when you were being split open on his cock like this, but you were getting better and better at it. How you moaned against her dripping pussy was hot as Hell for her, not to mention how fun it was to watch you struggle to continue to please her, your tongue slipping up through her folds and over her twitching clit.

I mean, it was easy to see why you loved it so much, she tasted amazing and every sigh and moan you could pull from her sounded nothing short of divine. Tiffany was insanely talented with her own mouth and fingers, you only hoped you could give back half of what she did to you.

It was impossible to get over how lucky you felt, how spoiled you were, you had every single thing you could ever want. You were truly endlessly grateful.

“Look so fuckin’ good.” Of course Chucky wasn’t going to complain about the view, his two favourite people in his life, spread in front of them, buried to the hilt in you as your hands were on Tiffany’s outer thighs as you shivered and moaned and ate her out.

“Mmmf the best.” Tiffany confirmed, her praise meant the world to you, looking up to her, tongue running over her clit again with another moan, and it was so arousing to you that you clenched down again drawing a moan from the man behind you.

It always seemed to work out like that, it was easy for the three of you, all feeding off of each other, it often happened, someone doing something to someone else and the reaction it pulled adding to it, making it hotter, made it feel better. And so it went.

It usually played out like this, Chucky would love to have you first, make you a mess, almost forcing you to cum for him, pulling you over that edge like it was some kind of race. You would be left sore and well stretched, he was rough as always, and after he had cum inside you, he would watch as Tiffany had you. He would relax totally amused, cigarette in hand as Tiffany would play with you, much softer and sweeter, she wouldn’t be rough as you helped prep the strap-on, not like it needed much when your pussy was stuffed with cum.

“Such a good mouth.” She praised, and she would gently pull you away, your mouth sliding off of the strap-on with a wet and audible pop, and she would lie you down and kiss you so sweetly as she lined up and filled you.

Your thighs on either side of her hips as she was on top of you, and she would make you cum too of course, the build slow and gentle and damn intense in a different kind of way, and she’d be praising you all along the way.

Or it would be that way until Chucky had enough of just watching and got his hands into the toy box. Having her fuck you while he would use a vibrator on you was nearly too much to handle and they both knew it, the way you would squirm and twitch was too good to pass up, and the way it would make Tiffany lose control just a little bit and get a tad rougher was more than welcome.

You knew the dinner preparations you had started earlier would be no good, there was no way they were close to done with you. You could always order in later, you supposed.

It was truly a blessing and a curse having two partners, it usually meant no rest for you, one could take it easy until the other was ready for more, not to mention when they were both using you at once.

Both of them had such presence and had such strong personalities, they seemed to fight often but again when it came to you?

Sharing came easy.

#Charles Lee Ray x reader #Tiffany Ray Valentine x reader #poly!Chiffany x reader #BHF writing #Slasher x reader #Do-Over-Decemeber.

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