#the rage is absolutely feral and violent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kittykattropicanna · 4 months

Note

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!!

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3 I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone.

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends.

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage.

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly.

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well.

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be.

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence.

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment.

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour.

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt.

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful.

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary….

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do.

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like.

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up.

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load.

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years Sentence ends: Year and a half Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak.

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android.

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out.

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him…..

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter.

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed.

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key.

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man.

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter.

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle!

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :(

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)”

And of course you did!! He asked so politely!

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body.

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible.

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:(

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise.

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

574 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 7 days

Text

That Thing I Like

Masterlist Here

Word count: 2,100+

Synopsis: You are ships counselor to the Polar Tang. For the past four days, you had been called into Law’s office over the Den-Den transponder speakers. The crew assumes you two had began a relationship, but what actually occurs is far more intimate than any romantic encounter.

Themes: Law x gn!reader, platonic yearning for more, crying, angst, swearing, hurt with comfort, processing grief, professionalism and duty getting in the way.

Notes: @feral-artistry said she wanted some comforting Law. Man needs a hug. Go comfort your captain, he needs you. I hope you enjoy your gift!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity

Written with two songs in mind: Lora Lai Lo - Patty Gurdy, Baby Mine - Sharon Rooney

Fingertips brushing with the tanned pages of your novel, focussing on the cleverly articulated poetry depicted on the pages. You began blindly reaching in front of you, your index finger meeting with the ceramic edge of your rapidly cooling teacup.

Your eyes continued to mull the same sentence over and over again, the masterful penmanship scorching into your memory as you rose your cup to your lips. Halting, you narrowed your eyes on the final two words of the sentence: “My boy.” You spoke aloud those words in a hushed whisper, brow knit and focussed.

Finally raising the teacup to your lips, you choked on the fluid within. Where you expected to taste the bitter tang and subtle sweetness of liquorice tea, your palate was assaulted immediately by the overwhelming flavor of seawater.

“Damn it, Shachi!” you immediately yelled, placing down the cup loudly on your saucer. A loud gaggle of laughter had your eyes burning with a violent rage over the spine of your novel. The redhead smirked at you, his brother in arms, Penguin, clutching his own chest alongside grasping Shachi’s bicep.

“I couldn't not!” he confessed between cackles, “It was right there!” You shook your head at him, rising to your feet and readied yourself to berate your fellow Heart-Pirate crewman, only for the drone of your Captain to spark over the Den-Den speakers.

“Ships’ Counselor, to my office,” your anger immediately cooled, huffing away your exasperation with a puff of breath.

“Saved by the captain, as per usual, Orka,” you snarled at him. His smirk only widened as you shook off the flavor of seasoned water with a shrug of your shoulders and a rotation of your neck.

“Ooooh, Counselor to the Captain’s office,” Penguin taunted you with a higher pitch to his regular drone, “How many times does that make this week, hm Shach?”

“That makes the fourth day in a row, Pen,” Shachi taunted back. You placed your marker within the pages of your novel and tucked it within your satchel. Shaking your head at the both of them, you eyed them off cautiously.

“Four days of not so secret, secret meetings,” Penguin continued in his teasing tone, “What do you get up to in there? Want to share with your two bestest friends?”

“After that little stunt?” you quipped at him, gesturing to the ceramic teacup, “Absolutely not."

“It was just a little switch-e-roo,” Shachi chuckled, “A little switch up to make things interesting.”

“I will get you back for that little switch up, boys,” you threaten them with narrowed eyes and a wide smirk, “When you least expect it, I'll enact my revenge.” The seriousness in your tone had both men on edge beneath your icy tone.

“Jokes on you,” Penguin snarled your name in a hushed whisper, “I'm always on edge.”

“A terrible coping strategy, Pen,” you remark with a soft chuckle, “When you're ready to work through that, make an appointment with me, okay?” He hummed a soft acknowledgement at your comment, both men watching as you turned to make your way through the Polar Tang.

As you left the common area and wove your body down the hall, Shachi turned to Penguin and bumped his shoulder against his.

“You reckon Cap and Sel are a little friendly?” he asked his dark-haired crewmate.

“More than that, I think,” Penguin smirked in return, scrunching his nose up, “Why else would he call ‘em into the office so much?”

Both men looked at one another with a small shrug before returning to their own recreational activities in the mess hall, leaving thoughts of romantic dalliance between you and Law alone while their hobbies occupy them.

As soon as you knock, your practiced routine for the last few days has your momentum carrying you to the desk Law remained sat behind.

“Counselor,” Law addressed you with a soft nod.

“Captain,” you mirrored his expression with a nod of your own. Your soft, melancholy smile rose up to your lips.

“I need you to do that thing I like,” he confessed with an even tone. You shook your head, your brows furrowed to a low frown.

“Captain,” you begin, shaking your head, “This is the fourth day in a row that you've-.”

“-I need it,” he spoke over you, a small growl in his tone, “I need you to do it again.” You sighed in response, weaving your way over to his position behind the desk.

He swivelled his chair, his knees parted and hands gripping the denim over his thighs. His teeth clenched behind his tightly clamped lips, his brow deepening in a frown of his own.

“Are you certain?” you asked him, reaching out and smoothing your hands over his shoulders before cupping his chin beneath your fingertips.

“I know it's a request not common in your training,” he confessed, his inked fingertips tentatively and soothingly brushing over your own, “And it's well out of your job description and comfort zone. But I need you to do this for me.”

You smile softly at him, his eyelids falling into a cresent shape with his small smile. His hat lay askew on his desk, his documents all neatly compiled in a catalogued heap beside him.

“Alright, Captain,” you smiled at your captain, turning your hands and capturing his within your digits, “Let's go do that thing you like.”

You led Law by the hands, tugging at his wrists and slowly moved yourself to a seated position over the suade sofa in his office, patting the empty space beside you to indicate for Law to sit.

Immediately, he fell in a heaped mess beside you. His head hit your thighs, his face hidden against your stomach as your hands gently began caressing his hair. He lay himself down, tucking his lanky legs against his chest as you began the routine you had been practicing for the past four days.

“My boy, dry your eyes,” you sung melodically to him, your voice not professional by any means, but well enough to carry the simple melody. He immediately became transported back into a memory.

“Tomorrow will soar, as the dove flies,” you massaged his scalp, hands soothing over the unruly strands. He tucked his head further against your stomach, using your body as a shield to muffle any uncharacteristic whimpers from falling from his lips.

“You are loved from your head to your toes,” you continued, your own emotions almost betraying you as you felt his shoulders shuddering, “May my words spread light over woes.”

“For you are my best boy,” you repeated your lilted chorus, “My only boy.”

As your words hung thick in the air, you attempted to ignore the dampened streaks of fresh, hot tears soaking through your shirt. You knew Law needed to linger in this space, process this state of grief and use you as a lightning rod to draw in his thundering strike of raw emotion.

For the past four days, he needed a space to linger in his grief. When you noticed him making simple mistakes navigating the Polar Tang through still waters, you immediately set an appointment up with him to talk through it. It took you the first month to get him to open up, the following two to reassure him that nothing ever said here would leave.

It only took two months after that one to have him process his childhood with you there as an ear, a council and a guide to usher him through. You had become friends through this, sometimes using the opportunity to discuss hobbies and jokes. But lately, he would use your time together to remember all those lost to him.

For the past four days, that focus was on his mother.

After clutching against you within this state of vulnerability for several, you chose not to make a sound. Disguising your breath by taking lengthy inhales and exhales, your heart soared, and relief washed over you when you felt your captain match your intentional breaths.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your naval, withdrawing his face from your body and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You've done well,” you acknowledged him, withdrawing your hands from his hair as he moved to sit upright, “Less time than the last few sessions we've done this together.”

He hummed, his heart feeling lighter and less overcome beneath the strangling waves of oppressed sorrow. His eyes were red and glossy, the streaks of tears now drying on his cheeks.

“Do you want to talk about it this time, or do you want to leave it?” you offered him, feeling his bare grief still lingering, “We've spoken so much about Dressrosa, Corazon and Doflamingo. Do you want to tell me why this melody means so much to you?”

He sighed, his tattooed fingers drawing over his eyes as he scraped them over his cheeks and down to his whiskered chin.

“My mother sang that song to me every night,” he confessed in a voice just above a whisper, “She would change the lyrics for my sister when it was her turn. I would often catch her humming it when she thought nobody was around.”

You nodded along, ushering him to continue with your eyes supporting his release of pent up emotion.

“I was a child when my whole country perished with the poisoning, or the extermination,” he continued, a wave in his voice causing him to gulp back a dry lump forming, “I don't think I had the opportunity to process this before, and now that her birthday is coming up-...”

“...You miss them,” your hands subconsciously sought out his knee, giving the cap a gentle squeeze in acknowledging his emotions, “And there is nothing wrong with experiencing the gravity of such a loss well after experiencing it. You've been through so much, Captain.”

His hand reached down to cup yours over his knee, his head shaking a soft denial to your words.

“You likely think me weak,” he confessed with a dark smile, “You have the ability to dismiss me from duty and take command, should you no longer see me fit to lead.”

“For experiencing human emotions?” you quirk your brow up, a soft smile elevating to your lips, “Hardly a valid reason for mutiny, sir.”

He chuckled at your answer, his rare smile once again drawing over his face. The moment of the memory had left him once more, his mind now fully present beside you. Your smile was one he had seen a thousand times before, but this particular one penetrated his cold heart and swelled it with an engulfing warmth.

“I appreciate you so much, Counselor,” he admitted, his body moving against its will in a hypnotic trance as his forehead met with your own, “I will be forever grateful that Bepo convinced me that our crew needed one.”

“For what it's worth,” you whisper, closing your eyes and lingering against him, “I think you are an excellent captain,” you used your thumb to brush against his knuckles, “Your parents, your sister, your country, and Rosinante would be proud of the man you've become.”

Lingering against each other, Law fought back the urge flooding his chest to release more of his stress physically. He wanted to lunge forward and press himself against you, cry into you and show his appreciation with embracing you.

But he remembered who he was, where he was, who you were, and who you were to him. You were an equal, a colleague, a friend, and someone who acts as both therapist and deepest confidant to him as your superior.

He could never betray that to seek out a physical dalliance, no matter how much his body screamed at him to clutch against you.

You were plagued with a similar plight, desperately wanting to join your lips with Law’s and demonstrate how safe, secure, and loved he is with you. To become a person far greater than a mere colleague to him.

These past few months had drawn you both close - but these past few days had propelled you even closer. You could never betray your station and your standing as his confidante and counselor.

As the night lingered on, you both opted to remain like this for several moments: enjoying the soft, emotional touch and the world you had carved out behind the safety of the office door. Both yearning and craving the touch to deepen between you, like a swelling rush of water behind a rapidly caving dam wall.

You just needed one more, simple push before that wall would shatter for you to give into this craving. But stubourness, duty and your minds often stood in the way of you both giving in to he desires your heart screamed for.

#one piece #x reader #trafalgar law #Trafalgar Law x reader #op law #law x reader #law x you #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #op law x reader

198 notes · View notes

mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

Text

✨Tear You Apart Part 1: You’re Mine✨

Series Masterlist

My first dark! Joel fic and I think I’m obsessed. I plunged into this head on and got major inspiration from the vampire scene in Saltburn and Little Red Riding Hood. This is filthy and I absolutely love it! There might be a part 2 for this! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts 🖤

“The wolves prey upon the lambs in the darkness of the night, but the blood stains remain upon the stones in the valley until the dawn comes, and the sun reveals the crime to all.” - Kahlil Gibran

- Summary: Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

- Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

- Word Count: 9,718

- Tags: Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Songs: “Change” and “Rosemary” by Deftones

The wind tears through the frigid night of Jackson, banging its haunted whispers against the side of the little wooden house. It screams in warning beware, beware. He’s coming. A glaring caution sign from the ghosts of the forest. They scream your name, shrieking and bellowing from the soil below as they make their way above the cold, vacant dirt, floating their way to your doorstep. Clawing, knocking, warning you that he’s close. Get out, leave. He’s near, he’s near. Run.

You want to run, want to sprint out of bed and run as far as you can, but you can’t. He’ll find you, stalk you till he hunts down your scent and discovers you hiding. You pray that he won’t, but he will. He always finds you. And when he does he takes and takes until you have nothing left, feeding his anger and bitter soul, using your body to escape whatever hell he had been through in the past.

You know he’s lost something special, something close to him. You can see it in the wrinkles that encase his forehead. See it in the dark brown flecks of his tired eyes. See it in the way he carries himself, worn and tattered like the old leather boots on his feet. Can feel it when he crowds your body as he lays over you in the middle of the night. Can feel it on his calloused fingers as he bleeds you dry from the inside, hollowing you out and sucking your lifeless soul and taking it as his own.

You never know what he’s lost, can never figure out what it was that was stolen from him. He doesn’t talk about it, will never let you in even though you beg him to. But you can feel the pain, the absolute agony that holds close to his cold heart. It’s whatever he’s lost that drives his rage, his desire for retribution. And it’s that loss that feeds his desire to take, destroy everything in his winding path. That’s why he comes, always at night, always at the dead blackness of night. He comes crawling to you, needing a way to soothe his scorching temper, needing a way to bury the agony of it all.

He’s broken, just like the shattered black military watch he wears on his left wrist. You try to ask him about it, try to graze your fingers over the broken glass, but he growls at you. Gnashing his sharp teeth as he releases the caged up wolf inside him. You know better, but you push back. Let me in, let me in, you scream. But he never does. That just pushes him further, bringing out the beast from within.

He’s coming closer. Almost here, almost here, the ghosts whisper in warning. You can feel him, as if he was already there at your doorstep, as if he was already clawing his fingers into your fragile skin. Tearing you apart piece by piece just the way he likes it.

Your body starts sweating, you toss and turn against the cold sheets that cling to your damp skin. He’s coming, they call. And it’s then that you can feel him as if he’s standing right outside. You can feel the weight of his steps on the cold, snowy ground. You can hear his shaky, quivering breaths as he trudges through the patches of white snow, can feel the warm breath as he blows it out, can reach your shaky fingers out as his breath kisses the sky. You can feel it, can almost taste it as it whips through the wind, landing up against your fogged up bedroom window.

Run. Hide. He’s here, he’s here, the voices warn. But you don’t listen, can’t listen. Joel’s deep voice washes the voices out, makes them flee from your mind. Mine, mine, he screams in your head as he claims you over and over again with his hands. Those big, rough hands that you so desperately want wrapped around you.

You shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t desire it, but you crave him like you’ve never craved anything in your life. He’s like a disease. Festering and invading your body, making you sick with want, with need. Pulling at your insides so much that you can’t ignore it. Can’t ignore the deep ache in between your thighs as you yearn for his touch, for his entire being. And you’re certain that you’re just as fucked in the head as him now.

He makes you sick. Sick with need, with desire. You shouldn’t crave him, shouldn’t want this. Most days he’s unkind, barely speaking, barely able to tolerate his own self. But he gives as much as he takes, and you crave the way he gives. And now you’re just as bad as him, just as selfish and needing as him. Mine, mine, you call in your mind. He’s yours just as much as you are his.

Your eyes open wide as you look at the small clock that hangs on the wall, the hand ticking and ticking as it reaches 1:00am, the time he usually comes after his late night watch shift. Your body quakes from the anticipation of him. You can hear him now. He’s here.

You feel the weight of his heavy feet against the wooden floorboards as he opens the front door, hearing it shriek as it closes behind him with a soft shutter as it knocks against the glass window. He’s coming, he’s coming.

You hear the narrow stairs creak as he climbs up the steep steps. He’s coming for you, coming to claim you, to devour you. He’s like a wolf in the night as he stalks his prey. His dark eyes search for you, your scent hanging in the air as he comes for it, chases it, wanting to taste it. Wanting to rip you to shreds under the weight of his body as he claws and pounces on you. Claiming you as his one and only as he dominates you. But you fully oblige, always surrendering yourself to him completely.

You’re little red riding hood, and he’s the big bad wolf that wants to eat you alive as you spill yourself for him, letting him mark his paws all over you until you can only see the blacks of his eyes as he claims you. My, what large eyes you have. But he’s talking to you as he’s in between your legs, lapping up your flavor as he looks up at you with those dark pits and smiles with his sharp canines glistening in the night. And God, you’re already wet thinking about it, already trembling in the sheets as you wait for him, waiting for him to completely ravage you and destroy you until you’re no more.

You want to touch yourself, want to put an end to that aching throb in your center as slick pools inside you, fighting hard to hold back the urge. He’ll be mad if you don’t wait for him. If he sees you fingering yourself before he gets to you, he’ll be furious. He’s selfish, always so fucking selfish with you. He wants to be the one that makes you feel good, under his conditions. He’s dominating, controlling, wanting your orgasms to come from him and him alone. He’s greedy, but he always gives, feeding into your sweet desires as he revels in your body, in your arousal, in your taste.

You hear the rusty doorknob twist and turn under his grasp, hear the door start to creak open as his dark form clouds against the darkness of the hallway. Take me, take me, you beg in your mind. And you swear he can hear you as he stalks towards you with his massive form.

He’s tired, you can see it in his weathered stare as his dark eyes search for you under the silky sheets. He throws off his tan, heavy coat and tosses it to the side of the room. As he makes his way to you, he pushes up his plaid, green sleeves slowly, exposing thick veins that spiral down his arms, ending in his massive hands. You gulp at the sight, taking in the way his arms flex against his sleeves. They pull and tug so tight that they’re bound to rip at any moment as his bulging muscles encase your nimble body.

He stops at the end of the bed, pulling back the clean sheets as he takes in the sheer nightgown you’re in. His eyes trail over your body as his deep scowl turns into something primal, dominant. “Get up,” he demands as he yanks you up by the wrist and pulls you to a standing position. There’s never such a thing as a hello or hi, beautiful. Only ever demands and commands as he comes for one thing, your body.

He pulls up the wooden chair that sits in the corner of the dark room and places it in the middle of the floor. He looks up at you with the darks of his eyes and curls his index finger, coaxing you to sit in the chair. Your body is hypnotized as you dance your way over to him under a waning spell that puts you at ease.

“Sit,” he says firmly as he pushes you down gently, your back hitting the hard wood as you sit up straighter, preparing yourself to give yourself to him. Your hands fall flat against your thighs as the sheer nightgown barely reaches the tips of your knees. You can feel the cold wind as it blows hard outside your window, can almost taste the white snowflakes that linger on his leather boots.

Your breathing goes ragged as he circles the chair. Circling and circling as he trails a calloused finger over your bare shoulders as he takes you in with his chocolate eyes, inspecting you as he drinks in your features. Your throat goes dry as you watch him stalk around you. He’s a hungry wolf and he’s starving for you.

“Tell me, have you been a good girl today?” His words drag against his teeth as he snarls the words out. He continues to circle, making you audibly gulp at the words that leave his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you answer, your nails digging into the flesh of your aching skin.

“Have you touched yourself today?” he asks as he circles you again, peeling his hands over your arm as you shiver from his rough fingers.

“N-no,” you stutter out, falling over your words. Except you had. You did earlier in the shower, thinking of Joel’s hands, pretending his fingers were yours as you made yourself feel good, spilling yourself all over the tiled floor as you called his name. Joel, Joel.

“You filthy little liar. I know you did. I can smell your arousal all over your fingers.” He grabs your hand tight and pulls it up to his nose as he inhales deeply, his eyes closing as he breathes in your scent. When he opens his eyes up, he takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks slowly, watching you with cold, heavy eyes. Your eyes go wide as you watch him slurp your taste up. A wave of slick runs down the seam of your lacy underwear, and you have to squeeze your legs shut at the growing throb that’s now aching to be touched.

He releases your fingers slowly as you watch him pool his saliva all over you, watching it slide over your hand as he drops it back to your knees with a slapping sound that echoes through the walls of the bedroom. He makes a slow, steady circle around you as he halts right next to you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as he bends and places his hands on his knees, slowly curving his spine as he eyes you with a hard line strewn across his lips. You gulp and sit up straight. You’re in trouble, you know it too.

“I, I didn’t mean to…” you squeak out carefully.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he growls. You automatically go quiet, afraid to interrupt him again. “The next time I find out you pleasured yourself without me, I’m gonna make you fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch, you got that?” he hisses.

Your mouth drops open at the mention of you fucking his fingers yourself, and you have to gulp down a moan at the thought of it. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Repeat it!” he yells, anger seething up in him.

“Yes, I understand,” you say with your eyes low, looking down at your shaking hands.

“Good.”

He skates around and stops in front of you, bending down as he places his rough hands on your knees. “Now, what are we gonna do with you, huh? You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks as he moves your hands away and places his own on the end of your sheer nightgown.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice shaky as he inches your nightgown higher, grazing his calloused fingers over your thighs, feeling that low tingling sensation start in the back of your spine.

“Good. That’s good,” he groans as he pushes your nightgown up higher and higher, climbing up your thighs until no more material is touching your legs. The only thing left is your white lacy underwear that are ruined from how drenched you are.

“Now, tell me. What were ya thinkin’ about in the shower?” he asks as he slowly pushes your thighs apart, trailing his fingers up nice and slow as he teases you, getting you all worked up for him.

“You, I was thinking about you,” you gasp as he pushes your legs even further, causing more slick to build up from the action of his rugged hands.

“Were ya thinkin’ of these fingers curling up inside you as I make you cum? Or maybe my tongue swirling around that pretty pink clit of yours?” he purrs as he glides his fingers against the edges of your lace, almost touching you where you need him as he ghosts over your center.

“Y-yes, both. Please, Joel,” you beg as he teases you again, ghosting over you without so much as a light touch to your aching center.

“Please what?” he asks with his brown eyes growing darker, the edges of his pupils expanding into dark coal.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, licking your lower lip in anticipation. He sees you slide your tongue over your lip and you see his eyes grow sharper, arousal swirling all around his black pupils.

“Well, since you asked nicely.” He glides his fingers through your clothed folds, and you gasp at the feeling of your budding arousal. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” he groans as his chest rises and falls in waves, pulling his fingers away again as you huff in frustration.

He loves to tease you, loves to torture you as he builds you up and then makes you beg for it. He wants to hear it, wants you down on your knees as you plead and moan for him, calling his name as you beg again and again. Touch me, taste me, fuck me.

“Joelllll,” you beg again, dragging the last syllable out as you call his name, needing his fingers on you, needing his tongue, his cock, his everything.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he teases, trailing his fingers over your seams again as he slowly unhooks the material from your hips. He slides the wet material down your legs and disposes of them on the ground, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

He pushes your thighs apart and smooths a thumb over your center as he slides it all the way up, collecting slick as he goes along. You shudder under him as you feel yourself drip on the wooden chair, so turned on that you feel like you could orgasm right at this moment. “Goddamn, you're drenched,” he groans as he takes his thumb in his mouth, sucking all the slick off as he stares into your eyes intensely. And fuck, it’s hot.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and show me exactly what you were doing in the shower. Go on,” he nods at you. “Show me how you touched yourself.” He stands back against the wall and leans on it, crossing his arms and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration, watching as his flexed muscles pull at his plaid shirt. “Any day now,” he says sternly. “Touch yourself. Now,” he growls. You automatically obey and nod up at him.

You gulp saliva down your throat and slowly bring your right hand over your center, gently pressing your fingers to your throbbing clit as you circle yourself, leaning back into the chair as a quiet moan escapes your mouth as you feel the pressure building fast. You’re so close, already so close.

“Eyes on me,” he commands as the low, guttural sound emits around the room.

You pull your head up and lock eyes with him as you focus on your breathy moans, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again. You hear the pulsing blood rush through your ears, feel your body tense as you close in on your orgasm. Almost there, almost.

“Place a finger inside you,” he commands, his voice vibrating through your bones. You obey and slide your middle finger inside as you feel the drenched, tight walls cave around your finger. “Another,” he demands as his eyes go pitch black watching you play with yourself. You slide a second one in and curl them up, hitting the spongy walls that threaten to make you cum.

You let out a loud, aching moan as you curl your fingers again and again while your thumb circles your clit in meticulous circles. Your mouth shapes into an O position as you feel your walls clench around you. You pull out a deep rising orgasm that starts low in your spine and spreads over your heated cunt as you climb higher and higher into bliss.

“Good girl,” he growls as he watches your orgasm wash over you. White, hot heat spreading through your entire body as you ride out your first orgasm, throwing your head back as your eyes roll back into your skull, feeling the wooden chair become soaked with your slick.

You take a moment to come back down to earth, back to where you can breathe again. Feeling your ragged breaths become even as you open your eyes and focus on Joel as he stands in the corner brooding and revelling in your pleasure. He’s breathing fast as his broad chest moves up and down, can practically hear him as his breaths come out choked and fast. He’s turned on, you can see the bulge in the outline of his dark jeans as he takes you in with his eyes, trailing over your center again.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks with a deep voice rasping in the back of his throat.

“Yes, so good,” you breath out tensely. “Want you to make me feel good though,” you beg as you open up your legs for him, feeling his eyes scrape over your soaked outline.

“Oh? Think you learned your lesson?” he asks curiously with a raised brow.

“Yes, promise,” you confirm, already biting your lip at the anticipation of his fingers on you.

“Mmm, alright. Since you did what I asked, I guess you earned a reward.” He stalks toward you, bending down before you as he gets on his knees and brings your legs up over his shoulders, slowly trailing his fingers up your inner thighs as he works you up again, getting you ready for your second orgasm.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soppin’ and drippin’ for me. Want me to make you wetter? Want me to make you see stars?” he purrs as he blows on your center, making you buck your hips up at the breezy feeling as it tickles your most sensitive areas.

“Fuck, yes,” you squirm, begging for his touch.

“Mmm patience, little lamb. Gonna take ya nice and slow. You gonna be a good girl and cum all over my fingers?” he groans as a deep growl escapes his chest.

“Yes, fuck. I’ll be the best girl, your best girl,” you whine out.

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear,” he praises. Before you can respond, he licks a long, slow stripe up your center as you moan out his name.

“What’s that, little lamb? Couldn’t hear you over your moans,” he teases.

He pulls you lower in the chair as the wood scrapes along your back, feeling his rough hands wrap around your thighs tight. He inhales deeply and then spits on your cunt in a degrading, ravishing way. He takes his thumb and spreads the warm spit over your folds as you writhe under his touch.

“Hold still,” he warns as he presses his other hand on your thigh. You nod up at him and let him continue stroking his thumb up and down you, spreading your wet folds as he gently presses slow circles around your bundle of nerves. You let out a low, drawn out moan as he slips two fingers inside you and flicks his tongue back and forth in slow, lapping circles, so close to bringing you to the heavens again, so close to orgasm already.

One more thrust inside of you and then he’s pulling his fingers out, leaving your clit as he takes his mouth off you and backs up, dropping your legs from his shoulders as he stays straddling in between your legs. Why did he stop? Why did he fucking stop?

“Joel, I need to…I need to…” you whine out. He hushes you with the swipe of his finger to your lips, and you quietly pout as your eyebrows furrow together. Need to cum, need to cum.

“Think you deserve it?” he asks as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue, building you up even more as you beg to cum.

“Yes,” you cry out, your clit throbbing with need, your body sick with desperation to let go.

He chuckles a low laugh and smirks up at you, his dark eyes honing in as the black pits expand around him. He’s cruel, wicked, a devil in disguise as he torments you. He knows what he’s doing, he knows.

Filthy trickster, vicious teaser. Cruel, cruel, cruel, the voices whisper in your mind, filling you with regret and longing as you dig your nails into the wooden chair, feeling your body screaming at you. Let go, let go. Need to cum, need to cum. Joel sees the torment in your needing eyes, sees the way you’re scraping your nails into the wood as you beg him to release you with your watering eyes.

“You know, the female orgasm is a complex thing. I can feel you screaming inside to let go, can see the way you ache for release.” He grunts as he pushes a wet, hot finger inside your mouth, slowly pushing a second in as he slides his fingers further up, feeling your saliva cake around him.

“Suck,” he commands. You do as he says and suck his fingers, feeling your sweet arousal slide down the back of your throat. “Good girl,” he praises, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps his fingers inside your panting mouth.

“It’s just so hot to watch you suck my fingers with your dripping slick all over them,” he says as he bites his lip, sending his fingers further down your throat as you gag and choke on them, seeing his eyes become full black pits as he watches with pleasure. “Such a good girl, choking on my fingers. Wanna see you choke on something else,” he growls as his sharp incisors beam up at you in a smirk as he slowly releases his fingers from your mouth, pulling saliva with him.

You groan at the sight of his disheveled, tousled curls, at the grey patchy beard that encases his face, at the smoldering stare he’s giving you, at that devilish smirk that’s taunting and teasing you in the most torturous way.

“Your mouth. God, your mouth looks so inviting, and your teeth. They’d feel so good closed around my neck,” you whine as you beg him to finish you off, let you cum in peace.

“Mhmm. The better to eat you with, my dear,” he smirks. The little red riding hood quote takes you for a ride as you feel your cunt clench up around nothing, needing a release.

He smirks up at you once more and winks before he dives back into you, his fingers curling up inside as they jab up into your spongy spot, his mouth pulling and sucking your clit into his mouth. You feel the bubbling sensation, feel the waves crashing around you as they pull you under, drowning you in a wave of bliss and white heat as it explodes around you. You scream his name loud and desperate as you feel yourself let go. You clench around his fingers and then release, spilling your slick all over him. But what takes you by surprise is that’s not all.

You feel another orgasm take over as your body crumbles underneath him as he continues licking up your slick, working his fingers up and down you as he draws out more, spilling all of you, taking all of you for himself. Selfish, so selfish. But he builds you up so good that this is the best release you’ve ever experienced, like you’re walking on cloud nine as you feel a squirting sensation take over. Feeling yourself inject him with your slick as it sprays all over the front of his plaid shirt.

“Goddamn!” he yells as he pumps his fingers inside you, slowing his rhythm as he works it all out of you. You feel your legs shake and shutter around him as he holds your thighs open, not letting you close until he’s gotten every last drop out of you. After a few seconds of total bliss, you feel your body relax as there’s no more. That was the most intense orgasm of your life, and you wanted more. Needed him to continue to do that for however long this would go on.

“See what happens when I make you wait, when I tease you,” he smirks. “Makes you feel that much better,” he smiles, a devilish grin taking form on his face.

“You’re a menace, Joel Miller,” you respond out of breath, your eyes glazed over as you look over his aroused face.

“A menace, huh? Is that what I am?” he laughs.

“Yes,” you say carefully.

“Better watch your mouth,” he warns, slowly sliding his hands over your pale skin as he drags over your thighs, ending at your knees.

“What if I don’t?” you mock, wanting to test the waters, wanting to feed his anger. Keep quiet, keep quiet, the voices whisper. But you don’t listen. You never listen, always pushing them aside.

He stays quiet for a moment, but you see his features turning from day to night. He’s furious, his anger fuming inside him as you challenge him. Back down, back down, run, the ghosts scream. But you don’t. You stand your ground, let him rip into you as he takes control. You want him to, you need him to. He’s ruined you like the dead soil that lies in the snowed over dirt outside. He fucking ruined you.

You watch as his eyes turn frigid, his blood running cold as his eyebrows furrow up, his rage conforming to every bone in his hollow body. He’s on you in the next second, his hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes just slightly, not enough to hurt you. He’s warning you, declaring his dominance over you. Telling you that he owns you, controls you.

He hovers in front of your face as his hot breath blows over you, smelling a hint of coffee and whiskey as it surrounds you like a cloud. You could get drunk off his scent, drunk off him. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, little lamb. You know what happens when you open that pretty fuckin’ mouth of yours.” He narrows his eyes as they stare into you like sharp daggers.

He squeezes your neck tighter and you try to open your mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s not to the point of pain. He never goes too far, only gets you close. It feels good, so good the way he’s squeezing, the veins in your neck begging him to put more pressure into it. You’re sick, infected with his poison with the way he mind fucks you into doing anything he says. You're a puppet, and he’s pulling all the strings.

Get out, get out, they scream. He comes to take, he comes to destroy, they warn. But you don’t care. Let him destroy. You want him to, need him to destroy your body. You let him take, let him consume you as he throws you to the wolves. Except he is the wolf, and he is the one that tears you apart piece by fucking piece. A lamb to a wolf’s slaughter.

He ghosts his lips against your ear, slowly biting down on your earlobe as he pulls down sharply. You wince and he lets go slowly. His rough tongue glides up your jawline as he squeezes lightly around your throat, building that sweet pool of arousal up again as he twists your emotions. You can barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore. He’s been so rough with you, has done so many demoralizing things as he takes and takes from you, feeding his hatred and anger from the ghosts of his past. But he makes you feel so good, so fucking good. You can never deny him, can never run from him. You want it, you want it. So you’ll have it, you’ll have him.

“I could just eat you right up,” he purrs as he bites at your lower lip, pulling it back and releasing as it slaps back into place. You feel the sting of his teeth mark your throbbing lip, but it feels so good. So good.

“So do it. Take me,” you beg, choking out the words with his strong hand wrapped around you.

His eyes go black as he smirks up at you, his eyes smoldering into yours. “You asked for it, little lamb. Now c’mere.” He growls as he releases his death grip on your neck and yanks you out of the chair, slamming you into the white wall as he pins your arms above you and shoves the sheer nightgown up your body. He rips it over your head and tosses it to the floor in a heap.

You feel the cold air across your bare skin as his body crowds you, his lips sinking deep into your neck as he bites at the thin flesh. He pulls and tugs and sucks in a needy, aggressive way. You release breathy moans as the pain turns to pleasure, as you fall deep into the wolf’s trap as he claws at you. Taking, taking, taking. He’s rough, insensitive, always taking what he wants, what he craves. But you let him, you always let him.

He rolls your nipples with the pads of his rough thumbs, gathering your breasts as he kneads them together, making you pebble underneath him as he bites at them, leaving marks all over you. He claims, he takes with no regard for you. It’s what he needs, but you need it just as bad now. He’s brought you to ruin again and again, and he’ll continue to take advantage. You’ll let him, you’ll let him.

He glides his tongue back up to the crook of your neck and bites hard as you scream in both pleasure and pain. It’s too much, too much. But you take it, allowing him to have his way with you. He needs it, he needs it.

You feel the edge of his bulge against your leg as his hips dig into you, feel the shape as your body shakes around you. You want it, you need his cock. Your hands are still held against your will above you, so you lift your leg up slowly, skimming the base of him as you feel his large length through his denim. He grabs your leg fast and shoves it down as he grabs your chin and brings your eyes to his level.

“Did I say you could fucking touch me?” he snarls as his jagged teeth shine in the moonlight.

“No…” you whisper scarcely.

“No is right,” he snarls with bared teeth. “You do as I say when I say it. Got it?” he asks as he shoves you up against the wall, keeping his hand planted firmly against your jaw.

“Yes, sir,” you respond with a shaky breath.

“Good girl,” he smirks. “Now, let me teach you a little lesson on how to fucking do as you’re told,” he growls. “Stay,” he commands as he leaves you clinging to the thin wall. He saunters over to the wooden chair and takes a seat as he spreads his legs, palming himself slowly as one hand unlatches his leather belt and drops it to the floor with a clank.

“Get on all fours, now,” he commands as he swiftly unzips his jeans, slowly yanking them to the ground as he kicks off his leather boots and pushes the jeans to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down. You gawk at the size of him, of that massive twitching erection as it plants firmly against his tight stomach, a bead of precum glistening on the swollen tip of him. He’s so fucking pretty sitting there, about to palm himself as he watches you. Something about that brings out the sultry, unruly side of you. You want to taste him, need to feel him inside you.

You’re on all fours, waiting for his commanding call as he allows you to come to him. You need to feel him, need to taste him, need to smell him as his hot arousal encases the air, taking over every logical sense of your brain as he calls to you in your mind. Come out, come out wherever you are, little lamb. Time to come play with the big, bad wolf.

“Crawl,” he growls from the middle of the room, glaring his dark black pits into your soul. You generously oblige as you scrape your nails over the wooden floor, feeling your knees drag behind you as you make your way to him slowly and steadily. You feel your eyes gloss over with pure lust as you stare up at him, watching him pump his hand up and down his large cock, spreading precum all over himself. You gulp at the sight, at the massive length he has on him.

God, he’s so big. So big that when he takes you, he stretches you to your limits. Splitting you in two as he drives into you over and over again. It’s never vanilla, it’s always rough. So very rough. But you like it. Like the way he feels inside you as he claims you, dominates you. You’re mine, all mine, he grits through his teeth as he takes you, digging his nails into your skin as he rips at you, shredding you to pieces.

Take me, take me, you beg through your mind. And you swear he hears you by the way he sits up straighter at full attention and smirks down at you with eyes full of pure lust. And he’s telling you now with his smirk, with his eyes. You’re mine, he growls. And you know it, you know it. His to take.

You grovel over to him, batting your long eyelashes up at him as if that’ll stir the desire in him. You bite your lower lip and flick your tongue across the edge seductively as you smolder for him. Take me, take me, you scream.

The anger builds in him as he snarls down at you and hisses as he continues to pump his large length. The thick veins cascade around his thick cock as shots of precum drip down around him, ending in his coarse, wiry hair. You want to taste him, need to taste him. You’ve never craved anyone like this in your entire life.

He wrapped his twisting vines around your wrists and pulled until he had a forceful hold on you. He dragged you through the pitch black forest and devoured your body, claiming you as his own in the first week he met you. And you were hooked ever since, never being able to say no to him. You could even hear the forest shrieking its warning calls. Run away, leave, get away from the wolf with dark eyes. But you didn’t listen, only hypnotized by the dark, dominant beast of the night.

When you finally reach him and work your way in between his legs, he grabs your jaw with his rough hand and forces you to open as he squeezes you tight. “Tongue out,” he presses and you fully oblige.

You stick your wet tongue out, and he brings the tip of his cock to you as you slowly lap at the end with your tongue. “Fuck,” he groans from deep in his chest as he stares down at you with a snarl. You slowly draw sensual circles with your tongue along his most sensitive spots and lap up precum into your mouth as you generously swallow the salty flavor of him. You smirk up at him as you lap at his tip, giving him your best smoldering eyes that you can.

You watch his eyes turn coal black as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls your eyes up to his. You wince at the pain simmering through your skull as he holds you tight, unable to move an inch from him. “Quit fuckin’ teasin’ me,” he growls as his piercing eyes sear through you like a knife. He pulls your hair tighter and you cry out in pain. “You gonna be a good girl and behave?” he asks with a twinge of anger in his deep voice.

“Mhm,” you nod as he stares his hard eyes into you.

“Better be.” He bares his teeth as he lets his grip drop from you, and you catch yourself on his knees. “Now be a good little lamb and show me how good your mouth fucks,” he growls as he sits back in the wooden chair and scoots his hips up, waiting to be pleasured by you.

You’re quick to appease him. You wrap a hand around his thick cock and slide your hand up and down, spreading precum all around his length, and then you take him in your mouth. You work him nice and slow as you bob up and down, up and down, gathering spit all over his cock. He moans a deep, sated sound out of his throat as he watches you with hollowed out black eyes.

You continue flicking your tongue and sucking his thick, substantial length as you work up and down to please him. You can tell he’s right on the edge of release by the way he’s clenching his jaw and breathing out ragged, concentrated moans. But he won’t end there, not tonight. He’ll push your boundaries, he always does.

As you pull back to his tip, he reaches down and grabs your hair hard and thrusts up into your mouth. He brings your head forward and forces you down as his large length hits the back of your throat, making your eyes start to water from the action. He doesn’t let up, he just keeps thrusting harder and faster as he mouth fucks you forcefully.

You choke and gag on him as he hits the back of your throat over and over again. Your mouth is a swimming pool of saliva as it drips down your chin, caking his cock with slick drool. You feel like you're drowning and can’t breathe underneath him, but he keeps going. He’s almost there, almost there. Need to breathe, need to breathe. Your eyes water as tears spill down your crimson cheeks and fall to the cold floor. He’s pushing you, always pushing you to your limits as he pushes past them. He loves when you choke on him, loves to hear the gargled, gagging sounds as your throat constricts around him. And when you look into his black eyes and see the way he bares his sharp teeth down at you, you know you made him feel good.

“You look so goddamn pretty choking on me, little lamb. Feels so fucking good when you deep throat me, when I fuck your mouth with my cock,” he moans as he pushes you deeper, nearly suffocating you under the weight of his massive cock that’s coated in drool. “Now you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow for me,” he commands as he thrusts inside you.

You can’t take much more. You’re out of breath and you’re digging into his thighs as you continue to take him, barely able to hold on anymore. You see him clench his jaw again, his breath speeding up as he groans curses out of his mouth. He’s there, he’s there. His dark eyes roll back as he holds your head in place and releases his load all through the back of your throat. You feel the white, hot liquid slide down your throat as you swallow the salty taste of him.

“Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls as he finishes releasing himself in you. You watch his body go slack against the back of the chair as he breathes hot, whimpered moans from deep within his chest. He drops his hand from the back of your head, and you pull back, finally able to breathe again. You catch your breath and cough as you choke on more saliva and cum. You brace your hands on the cool floor and sink your nails into the wood, getting a grip on reality again as your body comes back to earth. Your voice is so shaky, so raspy as you wipe the drool from your chin and swipe the tears from your eyes.

He takes, he takes, the voices whisper. But you let him take, you let him ravage you as much as he wants. Don’t give in, don’t listen to the beast. But you do, you always do. The beast has claimed you as his, and little lambs always listen to their master.

The shrieking wind blows against your window, warning you of the beast that lies inside. Warning you that there’s danger near, and it’s lurking. That danger sits in your wooden chair, revitalizing himself before he crowds your body over the bed. He’s not done with you just yet. He needs to feed, needs to devour the entirety of you. He needs to destroy every last part of you as he claims you for himself over and over again.

He slowly pushes himself out of the wooden chair and grabs your arm, pulling you up from the cold floor as he grasps you tight. “On the bed,” he commands as he bares his teeth and pulls you over to the queen sized bed. He pushes you down as you fall on your back into the cool, satiny sheets.

He slowly unbuttons his plaid shirt as he stalks toward you with dark eyes that look like they want to devour you whole. When he gets to the last button, he pulls off the shirt and drops it to the floor, leaving him completely bare. He’s so goddamn handsome that it hurts to even stare for too long.

His broad shoulders and thick arms make it hard to breathe. His bulging veins that spider down his arms and cover his massive hands makes you want to whine in need. His tousled curls and brown flecked eyes make you want to come undone just from one look. They’re hypnotizing, spellbinding. And if you look close enough, you swear you can see the flash of yellow in his eyes as he stalks toward you, ready to pounce as he comes in for the kill.

Run, go now before it’s too late, the voices warn. The wolf comes to steal, the wolf comes to kill, they shriek. Let him, you whisper to the voices. You’re his to take. You want him to take. Take me, take me, you beg. And he will, he always does.

You feel the mattress shift underneath you as he drags his body over the edge of the bed, slowly crawling on top of you as his massive form hangs over you. His eyes are black pits as they stare at you, tempting you to come into the darkness as he drags you down again and again. Your eyes go wide and your pulse races in your neck as you stare up at the man made of nightmares.

“What’s the matter, little lamb? Scared of the big bad wolf?” he asks as he smirks down at you, his eyes pooled with darkness.

“No, I’m not scared,” you whisper out as you gulp down your fears.

“Then why can I smell the fear on you?” he smiles, his teeth like white, jagged razors.

“I’m not scared of you. No. I’m scared you’ll run off into the night and never come back.” Your voice comes out meek, breathy. Why the fuck did you just say that? His smile drops from his face and his eyebrows knit together. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, can’t tell what he’ll do. Don’t go, don’t go, you whisper. You need him. You need him.

His jaw flexes and relaxes as you see his waning features in the moonlight. He grazes his calloused fingers over your jaw slowly and comes to cup your chin as he pulls your eyes up to his. “You don’t have to worry about that, little lamb. Even if I run, I always come back. You’re mine and mine alone. Tell me who you belong to,” he growls possessively, making you desperate for his touch. You need him, you need him.

“You. I belong to you. I’m yours,” you gasp out, not able to hold on much longer. Touch me, taste me, devour me.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises.

Before you can comprehend what happens, he crashes his lips down to yours and devours you. Sucking, biting, kissing your throbbing lips as he shoves his tongue in your mouth and glides his rough tongue against yours. He swirls and swirls, filling up your senses with the taste of him. He tastes so fucking good, you could get lost in his whiskey taste, needing to drown in it until it fills up your lungs completely.

When he releases from your mouth, he cages his arms around your shoulders and crowds your body with his. “Little lamb, little lamb. What pretty eyes you have,” he purrs as he slowly pushes your legs apart with his knees, spreading you wide open for him to take. You bite your lip at the gentle praise and feel yourself become wet with arousal at the sight of him spreading you.

He lowers his head to your neck and licks a stripe up the side, right in the sensitive crevice of your neck. “And you taste so fucking good, I just love eating you up,” he groans as he bites down on your most sensitive nerve ending in your neck. You moan at the sharp, hot sensation as a wave of slick runs down your inner thigh.

He trails his hand slowly down your center, starting at your chin, gliding down your sternum, sliding over your abdomen, and ending at your wet, hot center. He spreads your soft folds and draws tight, slow circles around your clit as you hear the sloshing noises from your arousal.

“Joel,” you moan out, whining as it takes you under a sea of hypnotic pleasure. “Take me. Please, take me,” you beg.

“That’s right, little lamb. Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight,” he praises through your thick cloud of pleasure. “Gonna fuck you now, little lamb. Gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he says with bared teeth.

“Please,” you beg as he takes his thumb off your clit and pulls you down further in the bed, angling your hips up as he wraps your legs tight around his back.

“You’re mine, little lamb. Mine,” he growls as he plunges his thick cock in you, spreading you wide and splitting you in two as you moan out in pleasure.

He keeps his strides steady and slow, quickly picking up the pace as he fucks up into you over and over again. Driving your moans out of you as he bottoms out inside you, pounding over and over again against your tight walls. He throws your legs over his shoulders and digs his nails into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, repeatedly hitting the soft, spongy area inside you over and over again. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much. You whine out as you moan his name over and over again. So good, it feels so good. You can feel the pressure building, feel your orgasm about to take form as your walls flutter against his cock.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, little lamb. Feels so fuckin’ good. Let go for me, want you to come for me. Tell me who fuckin’ makes you feel good. Tell me who you fuckin’ belong to,” he growls as he fucks inside you harder, pressing the pad of his calloused thumb against your throbbing bundle of nerves as he circles and circles, drawing that sweet orgasm out of you.

You feel the tingling sensation wash over your head, down your spine, and ending at your aching cunt as your toes curl around him. You keep your eyes trained on him as you’re barely able to keep them open. You feel your mouth drop open wide as you let out a loud moan that’s meant for Joel.

“You. I belong to you, Joel.” You scream out his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling your walls clench up around him and then release white slick all over his cock as he continues to thrust up inside you, as he continues to circle your pulsing clit. White, hot heat spills through you as you completely lose yourself to him. Your body feels staticky as your mind goes fuzzy and your brain fogs over, only thinking of the man with dark eyes that takes you over completely.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls as he leans over your body and hovers over you, driving his thick cock in and out, in and out. Bottoming out so many times that you see stars. He’s there, he’s almost there, he’s about to cum. Four more thrusts and his body tenses up, his black pupils expanding as he throws his head back and clenches his jaw. He spills his seed inside of you as you feel the sticky cum coat your walls. He claims you, he claims you, and you love it, can never get enough. Mine, mine, mine, he growls possessively. And you’re his, you’re all his.

He slowly pulls out of you as you feel his seed drip down your inner thighs. “Did so good for me, little lamb. So good,” he praises as he cleans the mess from your thighs, wiping away the evidence that he had been there. He collapses next to you in bed and pulls you to him as he wraps his strong arms around you, crushing you to his chest. It feels good, this feels good.

He always leaves right after he finishes, never stays to comfort or hold you. He’s selfish, mean, but tonight he holds you. He holds you. He stays. You don’t say anything about it, don’t ask him why he stays because he’ll just get up and leave, leaving you empty and alone.

You feel the heavy weight he holds close to him, feel the heartbreak he carries with him day after day, can feel the cold glass of the broken watch grazing against your back. But you don’t ask, don’t chance it. You feel the loss cover him, feel his anger seething somewhere underneath his calm demeanor. It’s there just waiting to pounce, waiting to lash out at whatever stands in front of him.

He’s the wolf that stalks Jackson, the wolf that terrorizes the forest, the wolf that haunts the whispering ghosts that lie buried in the cold, dead ground. He goes around destroying, rampaging, slaughtering in the thick of the night. He’s a menace that looks for anything he can sink his teeth into and bleed dry. He’s a looming threat over every area he enters, threatening to destroy and kill. He takes, he takes. Again and again. But that’s what wolves do. They hunt and they take and they dominate while their prey cower before them, just waiting for the kill.

Joel is a wolf. A reckless, vengeful, powerful wolf. He loves to devour, loves to control, loves to dominate you. But he also gives, never letting you go starving for his touch. He always comes at the dead of night, always pulls you from your deep sleep to tumble around with the wolf in the sheets.

He’s like a melodic, captivating melody that hypnotizes you, calling you into the forest night after night with his deep howl. You always go, never ignoring the call that’s meant for you and you alone. And when you go, the ghosts reach for you from under the dirt and try to pull you away, warning you of what you’re about to face. But you ignore them, stepping over their graves as if they were never there. You go, you always go. Never betraying the lonely wolf with the sad, dark eyes.

It’s now while he holds you tight in his arms that you realize maybe you were meant to find him. He’s broken, a lone wolf that walks the hollow streets of Jackson just trying to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting. And when you showed up a few months ago, it's like a little light turned on inside him when it was all around black before you came.

You see him now for what he really is. He’s not all bad, not all teeth and claws. He yearns to break free from his wolf form, begging to run free with the rest of the pack instead of being cast out like he is. You see it in his wrinkled forehead, in his jaw that repeatedly clenches and relaxes, in his dark brown eyes that hollow out when you stare into them.

He’s so close, so close that you smell his mahogany forest scent that clings to him as it pulls you in, intoxicating you into a relaxed state. He stares at you with those dark eyes, his chest breathing in and out in shallow waves. You try something new, feeling brave all of a sudden. You slowly reach out your hand and brush it through his tousled curls, gently moving away a dark piece that falls against the side of his face. He doesn’t move, doesn’t lash out at you like a wild animal. He stays calm, just staring at you with a soft expression. His eyes change to a chocolate brown instead of the deep black pits he usually has. And then he surprises you by reaching his hand up slowly to your face, hesitating at the gentleness of himself. He trails his calloused fingers over your cheek, as light as a feather as he takes in your tranquil features.

He changes, he changes, the voices call. No more teeth, no more slaughter, they chant louder. A quiet victory to the ghosts that haunt the forest.

And just like that, you have tamed the wolf, controlling all his pent up rage, giving him the restitution he needed all along. You can see it in his big brown eyes, how he looks at you as if you saw him for the first time when no one else did. When no one else could give him what he needed. He needed someone that could understand all the hurt and loss he had been through. You’ve lost, you’ve died a thousand times through grief, but you found your way again through him. The hungry wolf that you were searching for all along.

And so the lost, scared lamb found herself in the face of the big, bad wolf. He came to destroy, to take, and to use. But you found a way to tame the claws, to tame the gnashing teeth. Somehow you controlled the beast, showing him that he truly wasn’t alone. Never leave, never leave, you call to him in your mind. And it’s like he can hear your thoughts because he drags his thumb lightly down your jawline and responds.

“I’ll stay, little lamb. I’ll stay,” he whispers. And he does, he does.

Maybe not all wolves are out to steal, kill, and destroy. Maybe there are wolves that are just lonely, broken, needing to know that someone understands them. Needing to know that they’re truly not alone. Joel is that wolf. He just needed to find you. He needed to find the lamb that wouldn’t run and cower in his presence. He needed a lamb that would stay by his side, that would show him the way out of the dark and into the light. He needed restitution. He needed you. He needed you.

And so he stays, he stays. The lonely, bleeding, broken wolf finding resolve and contentment with the quiet, gentle lamb. He stays.

Tags: @janaispunk @amyispxnk @iamasaddie @ashleymsnodgrass @tuquoquebrute @whxtedreams @fanfictilltheend @burntheedges @cinnamongorll @studioghibelli @pedrostories @blueseastorm @trea-bae

379 notes · View notes

sea-lanterns · 1 year

Text

SWEET DESIRE

synopsis: genshin women who are biters!

featuring: miko, shenhe, rosaria, shinobu

rating: 18+ nsfw (minors dni)

warnings: gn! sub reader, no mentions of s.ex but highly suggestive, biting, licking, blood drinking, marking, possessiveness, jealousy, lots of teeth mention.

art credits: my food seems to be very cute

MIKO

When Miko bites, she bites hard. Her teeth are a lot sharper than a human’s, so whenever she sinks her teeth into your skin, it hurts. (In a good way, but maybe it was just the masochist in you…)

She’s quite rough, too. Very possessive as she often marks you up with her fangs especially. Fox canines are very sharp, yet she uses them on special occasions whenever she gets jealous or particularly frenzied. Just like how dogs get zoomies, Miko gets them too, yet in a very…different way.

You could tell Miko is just itching for a bite when her tail pops out and it’s flicking a lot faster than normal. The tips of her fangs peeking out from her lips, and the nail dents in her arms from squeezing herself too hard. She gets rather excited at the thought of seeing you, and it shows in the form of several, several, varying bites.

There are small bites, like little nibbles as she savors you like the snack you are. These ones are the cute ones, she usually does these to express playfulness and teasing.

Then there are bigger bites, ones that actually leave a dent and cause her to kiss it better when she sees it bruise. Her lipstick framing the bite like it was a piece of valuable artwork, as these ones are the passionate “I love you” ones.

Then, there are the feral bites. The ones where Miko literally opens her jaw to chomp on you as lightly as she can (for this one can make you bleed if she’s too violent) This bite occurs whenever she feels rather jealous or possessive, and she wants to remind you that you are with her and her alone. These ones bruise a lot, and sometimes draw blood when she’s not careful.

But don’t worry…she’ll always lick it better to soothe you <3

SHENHE

Oh, Shenhe is shy, but absolutely unhinged when she wants you to herself. You’re not sure if it’s her rage or powers or what, but Shenhe can be quite the biter when she wants to be.

Now, keep in mind, Shenhe would never purposely hurt you. She loves you way too much to even fathom the thought! However, growing up with the adepti, meant she was taught some very…interesting techniques to show love to her partner… Well, they are quite ancient, so their courting practices can be a little outdated…

Shenhe’s bites are quite strong, yet very stiffly controlled. When she gets a little antsy or just craves more attention from you, she starts grazing your skin with her mouth, making it seem like she was kissing your hand innocently, when really she’s raking the edge of her teeth over your fingers.

You notice right off the bat, she’s looking at you through her lashes with that half-lidded gaze. You could tell that she just wants you right this moment, and if you don’t do something quick she’ll take a chomp out of your neck right there in public. (She hasn’t quite grasped the concept of public displays of affection…)

She’s very quiet when she bites you. Her lips are surprisingly soft (and very cold) whenever they brush against your neck. She’s shy at first, but slowly her movements are more precise. Not just brushing against your skin, but now leaving firm dents in certain spots just how you like it.

If you shiver under her touch, she pauses, comprehends whether that was a pleasant or painful shiver, and resumes when she sees no signs of distress. She’s a gentle girl after all… <3

ROSARIA

Rosaria is mean. When she bites, she means it as a warning or way to keep you in your place. She’s probably the complete opposite of the other girls, as she wants it to hurt. (Sadist Rosaria canon)

Rosaria isn’t one to punish without reason, if she bites you there’s always a good reason why. You were being too whiny? Chomp. You were particularly rude in a response to her? Chomp. You just looked so attractive? Chomp.

This sounds a little…odd, but Rosaria gives me vampire vibes. And by that I mean she bites hard enough to draw blood and licks it. I’m not kidding, you have to have a higher pain tolerance with this woman as she quite literally enjoys the thrill of your pain.

When she punctures a small opening for blood, she holds you still and laps her tongue over the wound to savor the metallic taste. It looks and sounds eerie, but you can’t help but find the action attractive as she always makes sure to hold you tight.

She also bites from behind like a vampire, using her clawed hands to tilt your head back as she leans in quietly to stake her claim. The tips of her metallic nail guards gently scratching at your chin, as you feel a similar prickly sensation of her teeth on your neck.

In the end of it all, Rosaria really just loves you (and your blood, but that’s beside the point). In her eyes, if you’re red all over, it’s a sign of love… Whether it be a blush on your face, or your own blood dripping down her lips…

SHINOBU

Shinobu is so nice. Unfortunately, she has some insanely sharp teeth for a human that she covers up with a mask (personal headcanon). She’s a little self conscious about it, but when she smiles at you without her mask, you can’t help but adore how cute her teeth are.

Shinobu is super careful when she kisses you or bites you. She’s extra gentle since she knows just how soft and sensitive your skin is, so everything she does to you takes time and care.

Her favorite place to bite you is your stomach. Unlike the other girls who usually go for the neck or collarbone, this girl pays some extra attention to your stomach. She honestly just really likes how soft the stomach area is, as the skin there is a lot more pleasant to kiss in her humble opinion.

When she grazes your stomach with her teeth, it tickles a lot. They’re so sharp and pointed yet so gentle as she rakes them over slowly, analyzing your skin for the perfect spot to mark. Once she does however, you’ll know because she stops right above the area and smiles slightly.

Shinobu’s bites are pinchy. They’re small, but wow do you feel the sting sometimes. They’re also extremely warm due to her tongue, as Shinobu has quite the long tongue that she uses to lick your bites raw and soothe the bruising to keep it from swelling. It works majority of the time, and wow does it feel good because she likes dragging it down your stomach to tease you.

In short, Shinobu really takes her time marking you. If anything, the more bites she leaves, the happier she gets. One thing you notice however, is that whenever she bites your stomach, you notice them trailing lower and lower until…

#yae smut #yae miko smut #shenhe smut #rosaria smut #kuki shinobu smut #yae x reader #yae miko x reader #shenhe x reader #rosaria x reader #kuki shinobu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin women x reader

1K notes · View notes

meadow-hearthfire · 3 months

Text

What if trolls go feral when in protective rage?

I just watched the first episode of certain violent gory series (that I'm not sure I should name here because it's not for kids) and it gave me an idea!

By feral, I mean going on all fours (for bipedal trolls), snarling, growling, swatting/swiping, biting, baring teeth, and not speaking many if any words at all?

Can you imagine a parent troll absolutely losing it and going into that violent protective mode when their babies are in danger? Running at breakneck speed and attacking whatever threatens their babies!

Everything else in the troll's mind is overridden by one thing: protect mate, protect babies, protect pack, eliminate/destroy the threat, etc.

That shit doesn't go away until the threat is gone and the troll in protective feral mode is 100% sure about it.

What if it's a trait that Rock Trolls have but is uncommon in Pop Trolls?

What if it was common in Pop Trolls during the Trollstice Era?

I bet Floyd has it! Can you imagine him going on all fours, snarling, growling, and protectively holding his baby close?

Heck! I bet all of BroZone has it from living at the Troll Tree during that era!

#meadow talks #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls headcanons #headcanons #baby fever floyd #dad floyd #dad floyd dory #baby fever floyd dory #parenthood

57 notes · View notes

love-toxin · 10 months

Note

SPOILERS, for those who haven't seen atsv yet

so on the whole thing where we're basically a spider person without any of the powers, it goes over the whole thing where everyone has their canon of loosing someone, but our world broke before we got to live it, BUT! Id imagine that despite all of that we'd have a reason to help miles. Because he knows his dad is going to die and when and can stop it. Obviously us basically going against miguel would, i imagine hurt him immensely, he'd be even more pissed.

Imagine trying to hold him back from chasing after miles, obviously he's much stronger than us so he accidentally moves us out of the way too hard and ends up hurting us and breaking something and doesn't notice till its too late

Also ALSO! Miguel tiddies, i wanna bite em, squeeze em 🫴 and just how feral he was BARK BARK! 🐕🐕

MMMRRHRRGGGGGHGGH........ok......but......

(cws: gn!reader, more spiderverse spoilers, blood, injuries, displaced spider-reader)

Imagine, after that whole chase and Miles managing to get away and enter another dimension, Miguel throws you into one of those baddie-capsules the society uses to send their anomalies back to their own worlds. He's so pissed he can't even look at you--you are the last person he expected to take Miles' side because you know exactly what's going to happen to him, in his mind he thinks you're not doing your job of protecting Miles because you're giving in to this ridiculous fantasy of his. You know exactly what it's like to lose everything you've ever known, just like himself, and in part because of you now Miles is going to have to go through the same thing and potentially cripple the society in the process, affecting thousands of other dimensions with those selfish actions. That's what you're supporting.

So, despite the intended purpose of the capsule, you stay trapped in the society until he can decide what to do with you whilst figuring out this whole situation. But it's when he finally finds the strength to keep himself calm enough to speak to you does he realize what he's done to you.

"What's wrong with your arm? Show me."

"I-It's fine, Miguel, it's just a little sore-"

"Show. Me. Now."

Reluctantly, especially because you still feel the way you do about Miguel and you know where he's coming from, you turn yourself towards him completely so he can see what you've been hiding since the chase--and when he sees what it is, a chill washes over him as he pinpoints the exact moment you sustained that terrible injury, claw marks running deep down your arm and barely covered by a makeshift bandage you pulled from your sleeve.

Right near the end, when he was trying so desperately not to let Miles use the dimension portal, you had run up to him and grabbed his arm to keep him from tearing the very walls of space and time apart. But in his rage, he didn't just shake you off--no, when you wouldn't give up, Miguel had slashed at you in a fit of frantic desperation and sent you tumbling back across the floor, your startled cries and winces of pain finally loosening his hold enough that the kid finally slipped through his fingers.

At the time, he could've spat venom with how angry he was, that fury directed at you when the source of it had disappeared. He never thought he would hurt you though, and it insulted him to his core when Parker had put himself and Mayday between you two as if he was at all a danger to you. He would yell, and he would swear, but he would never hurt you.

But clearly he did. The blood soaking your sleeves proves it, and so does the pallid colour of your face as you look up at him from where you sit, eyes silently pleading with him for help. Him. The man who vowed to protect you from any more hurt and, practically in the same breath, nearly killed you in a violent rage.

"I'm sorry."

When that beautiful smile blossoms across your face at those words, it only sours his spirit even more because he knows with absolute certainty that it's nothing he deserves. He's going to get you help, and help is already on its way to your holding cell, but he can't stay long enough to hear you thank him for it. No matter how much you beg him not to leave, to stay because you want to be comforted by him right now, he just can't even look in your direction and has to block out your voice as he walks away.

At some point, maybe, he might be able to hear you out. But for right now he just has to send other spiders to keep you company, ones that you know and trust, so you at least won't be alone. He knows that's a weak spot of yours despite becoming a strength for him, similar circumstances from both your worlds cultivating different results. He's just got no idea how powerful your words are, and that the longer he goes knowing you're his greatest weakness and avoiding you because of it, the more you're planting seeds of doubt into his society to turn the tables from within. Miguel loves you so much, and even if you're helping to break apart everything he's built, there's undoubtedly going to be a little voice in his heart that sings when he sees you defying him just like he defied everything to bring you here. You're going to force him to eat his own words, and if it's you leading the charge, he might just be inclined to open his mouth a little.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #ellie writes #seafoamfelly #anons

290 notes · View notes

yourlocaltreesimp · 5 months

Note

dang that puppet idea you had and okami's bit gave me shivers! What do you think the chain's individual reactions would be?

These have admittedly been sitting here for a while…. Sorry! Based on this, and this. Hope you enjoy!

TW: mentions Kidnapping, hallucinations and malnourishment, murder, does this qualify as yandere? Putting it here just in case

Also i’m trying out a new format so yeah

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Time

At first he blames the shadow. It’s convenient. It’s easy. He knows that your kidnapping was logically not his fault. There was nothing he could’ve done. He kills without remorse until he finds you. The blood dripping from his blade is the last thing he’s aware of when he finally sees you. He’s more keenly aware of the gnawing guilt as he sees how badly you’ve been treated, clothes ragged and that apathetic thousand yard stare. His heart was ripped from him, leaving him to bleed out slowly, to wither away without you.

Twilight

I mean when I say that he goes feral. Just a smidge if we’re sticking with the not yandere Twi, but hoo boy if he is that is a feral man. He has no care for the bodies he leaves in his wake to finally get back to you and is beyond pissed to see that you’ve been not only harmed, but taunted with the image of you. But that rage falters when you don’t notice them and when you grow sorrowful… he can’t imagine what they’ve done to you so that your very mind is different. But when he gets a hold of that shadow he swears his death will be merciless.

Wild

He’s absolutely beside himself after you first disappeared, and perhaps they all were. But He couldn’t snap back so readily, no matter what it takes. The others give him a hard time, their stress getting the better of them, but all he remembers is 100 years ago and the constant pressure to be good enough. Twice now he’s been a disappointment. He spirals in on himself when he sees hollowed cheeks and dull eyes that hold no warmth of remembrance. The you in front of him is not enough to ease his worries.

Warriors

One of the most level headed after you first disappeared, making good enough plans until they could find you. But he places all of the blame on himself. He’s supposed to be better than letting comrades be stolen and taken to their deaths. He’s supposed to be a better leader than that. And the consequences bear on him when you do little more than stare at the wall and him to yourself. He’s seen soldiers walk out of war less haunted than how you looked. And to think he was supposed to shield you from the violence.

Hyrule

He lost himself a little in the beginning. He’d become so used to the company, to having you there, that he’s acutely aware of the missing spot. He tries to fool himself into believing you’re there, setting out your bedroll and leaving a spot where you’d usually sit at dinner, but it only serves to make him feel worse. It takes everything in him to restrain himself when he sees you. The barrier shocked him when he tried to reach you and his magic couldn’t get through. He wouldn’t last much longer without you there.

Sky

He’s incredibly quick to resort to isolation. He caves in on himself at the fact that another he’s loved so dearly has been so violently taken away from him and lot to suffer. But the first time around the surface was safe enough, and Zelda had Impa… but you were not given the luxuries of safety and protection. He was going to rescue you if it took everything from him. Because you were his everything. If killing another god is what must be done to get you back then his sword is in hand.

Legend

Yeah he didn’t take this well. He isolates himself out of pure frustration, with both himself, the others and the shadow. And to whatever poor soul gets in his way, I truly am sorry. He downs more bodies than probably reasonable, but it’s methodical. It keeps his focus off of you, what they’ve rendered you down to, the husk you’ve become. He takes so many lives so that yours may be returned to you.

Wind

He tries not to stress, to stay laid back and to glue the group together. He tries to pretend like nothings wrong, because he knows that it’s what you’d want. He knows you wouldn’t want him to worry. But he has half a mind to go off and find you on his own. He already found and saves Aryll, so what’s another Sibling to save? But that determination wilts at how hollow and broken you look, unwilling to acknowledge them as anything more than hallucinations. But he knows you’ll get better soon. You’re tougher than this… right?

Four

He finds a hard time keeping himself together, physically and literally. There’s so many conflicting orders in his mind that it’s difficult to breathe. You used to calm him, to ease his nerves and soothe his mind. But to see how mistreated you were, to see how his carelessness harmed you, that only served to make his already scattered mind shattered.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #link x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe #firreplies #fir’s library

107 notes · View notes

phantasmiafxndom · 1 year

Note

Hello! I really love your writing! Since the kny requests are open, can I request Kny Pet AU hcs for Hantengu's clones (the main 4) ? It's up to you if you want to add nsfw stuff, i don't mind🌸

I've been issued a challenge, I see. XD I really didn't care about these guys until I started really thinking about their characters, but now I'm getting kind of invested...

(Shout-out to @krystalwithakay, who helped with this one~)

. . .

General/Group

• In this setting, the four of them are more like brothers than clones; at the very least, the "original" isn't around anymore. They were too much for their original owner to handle, so they wound up locked away in an overcrowded cage and left to fight over whatever minimal scraps of food and care they received. This did not do their mental states any good— before long, they devolved into constant squabbling and competition, to the point where restraints quickly become necessary to prevent further harm.

• By now, all four of them are half-feral and extremely difficult to handle. Nearly impossible to get close to, they're dangerously aggressive with humans, other demons, and each other; and being kept constantly starved, restrained, and agitated has done absolutely nothing to help that. The concept of a better life is always out of reach, leaving all of them hopeless and miserable.

Sekido

• He's been used in fights before (as one attempt at finding some use for him), and the results are messy. Without enough food and rest to heal properly, Sekido's body is covered in scars and old, poorly healed injuries. The extensive damage results in near-constant pain— and always feeling hurt and threatened only makes him more aggressive. He lashes out like a cornered animal, responding violently to everything because he can only anticipate more pain. A lot of his outward anger is a defensive mechanism.

• All of that rage usually hurts him more than anyone else. Sekido is so tense that it becomes an extra strain on his body; he struggles until he's worn down what little spare energy he had, to begin with, and his unfortunate habit of fighting restraints until he messes up his body too badly to keep going is responsible for a fair amount of his scars. And yet, there's no making himself stop. He's reactive to the point of being unable to control it anymore.

Karaku

• He's been used for sex before, with a very specific condition to keep him from mauling anyone who tries. Karaku has an odd, unintentional reaction to any kind of physical pleasure— his brain all but shuts off completely, leaving him pliant and non-aggressive until the response wears off. Thus, if he's drugged or handled just enough to make him shut down, he's plenty easy to use. The brief respite from misery, even if it means being put through such unpleasant handling, is too much of a temptation for him to care.

• It's easy for him to grow addicted to anything that makes him feel good, even if the aftermath is worse. Karaku has some highly escapist tendencies, where if he gets any chance to stop thinking and feel something other than pain, he gets desperate for it. He knows by now that most humans won't ever offer that sort of thing, though, and is every bit as aggressive and volatile as the other three until some possibility of pleasure arises.

Aizetsu

• In a constant state of misery, he's reached a point of barely being able to do more than lie around and wait for someone to finally decide he's better off dead. By now, Aizetsu doesn't have any hope left for himself (or any of the rest of them), and his naturally pessimistic nature doesn't help that. Crying himself sick only adds to how awful he feels— and he's most often too caught up in his negativity to respond to much of anything. He's the only one who (mostly) stays out of the four's constant fights.

• Aizetsu is prone to semi-accidental self-harm; tearing gashes in his skin from clawing at himself in distress, biting and chewing his fingers until they bleed, and making himself physically ill from sheer stress. However, he's also unconsciously drawn to self-comforting behaviors in any form that he can get. He lacks enough appetite or will to live to make himself fight for whatever scraps they're all given, so his body is weak and wasted away.

Urogi

• He's way too high-strung for his own good, and far too easily overexcited. Urogi is the one who keeps getting his hopes up over every little sign that anything good might happen... and suffering all the more for it when those hopes are inevitably crushed. He's always agitated and fidgety, and tends to pull at his restraints well past the point of blood just because he can't stay still. Thanks to his utter lack of volume control, he's often kept in a sound-triggered shock collar just so he'll be less of an annoyance.

• Urogi's wings were once cut off as a way of trying to make him easier to contain. They grew back soon enough, but his poor living conditions meant that the regrowth didn't happen how it should. He's incapable of flight in his current state, with near-constant pain from the poorly healed limbs. They only become more unbearably uncomfortable when the feathers molt, which is a process awful enough to put even him in a miserable mood.

#Kimetsu no Yaiba #KnY #Hantengu #Sekido #Karaku #Aizetsu #Urogi #Headcanon #Reader #Pet Au

211 notes · View notes

scary-flag · 1 year

Text

People being all "Ed is just an emo babygirl after a breakup, like, who wouldn't act like that???" and yeah I LOVE emo babygirl Ed, but I do not think cutting off someone's toe and feeding it to them is really a sad babygirl action (although you go girlies, he did deserve that)

Jokes aside, though: We are NOT being told anything in specific, and his actions can be interpreted in various ways. Did he go fucking feral, all kraken and shit? Sure, but he also cried when looking at the lighthouse painting later, which tells us he did not really, like, vow to not give in to his emotions again or something.

On the other hand, we ARE explicitly told in canon that Ed is *not* mentally well, and I do not mean it in a bad way. Maybe we, as a fandom, should stop acting like Ed's PTSD and his trauma responses are something bad that we can't work with? Ed has every right to be sad. Ed has every right to be angry. He has every right to be fucking traumatised. And by making him feel those feelings the fanfic writers or fan artists are not necessarily being racist, homophobic or mental-illness-hating. Ed is just human and he has human feelings. People react in all kinds of ways to heartbreak and trauma.

I know we all love babygirl Ed, but keep in mind that woobifying his reaction to Stede leaving him, we are kind of writing off the whole mental health aspect of the character, which, I think, is super important in the show? Going as far as removing this aspect of Ed (and I have seen people who really believe Ed has absolutely zero issues) is kind of building the stupid "we shouldn't talk about mental illness" ableist taboo agenda.

(to read more about masculinity and rage in the context of POC experience, I recommend to dig into what @uselessheretic posts who is definitely better at writing in English than I am and likely more educated on the subject)

There is nothing wrong in wanting a character to be flawed. Flaws make us human

Another point: He is a PIRATE. Most people are not making him violent and angry because he's gay, nor because he's a POC. Most do it because he is a pirate, and if anything, the legendary pirates were generally known to be unhinged. Pirates stabbed people, keelhauled them, burnt whole villages down, traded slaves and r*ped. I know we all love OFMD and our blorbos, but let's not forget who the inspiration behind those characters were. No one does anything wrong by just by saying a pirate character HAS issues with his mental health, anger management or attitude. Some people just give Ed (or Izzy, or Stede, or any character honestly) more of the real-world pirate characteristics.

Yes, it is a comedy show, but in fan works it can become anything - a drama, a horror, a post-apocalyptic sci-fi slasher, whatever the author wants. So I think that people who do not interpret Ed's reaction to the breakup as basically a cutesy american teenager eating ice cream in bed listening to Evanescence are not necessarily wrong and neither do they have bad intentions.

#ofmd meta #our flag means death #ofmd ed #blackbeard #blackbeard meta #sorry for my bad english but i just cant human today #im ill and tired

178 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

Note

I like your writing, can I request Thor, Poseidon, Buddha, Hercules, Jack, Loki, Rudra, Ares, Lu Bu, Shiva, Hermes, and anyone else of your choice with a Female Human Reader, but she tries to asserts her ‘dominance’ by Kabedon them? Reader is like, 4’11-5’0, in other words SHORT (She’s every sweet and kind but because absolutely Feral if someone insults her height, ever she significant other isn’t safe from her ‘wrath’) And despite her size, she’s surprisingly strong (Can carry her significant other bridal style or over her shoulder, no sweat) so it’s a double whammy when she’s pissed and is set loose on the culprit

To others that call her Short Names: Becomes absolutely Feral, will bite, punch, kick and cuss them out using the most violent and dirtiest of profanities

To her Significant Other: Kabedon’s them in anger (All of them), silent treatment, pouty (Jack), eats all their snacks in anger (Buddha), punches them in the face (Lu Bu, Thor, Ares) kicks them in the balls (Loki) and/or death glare (All)

I feel the rage deep within me when I get called out for my height, I’m the shortcake of my family and it’s not fair!!! Especially when my brother is over a foot taller than me!!!

-You were a sweet maiden, petite in stature but the love and warmth you projected to others was almost intimidating.

-You were kind to everyone you met, always giving everyone a chance, even if they’re rude to you first.

-However, like most everyone else, you had that one button, if pushed, you would turn into a different person, almost like a demon, feral and violent.

-You knew you were petite, but you didn’t need others rubbing it in, especially those who were much taller than you.

-Calling you short or telling you short jokes was a quick way to piss you off.

If he does say something ‘short’ related, it’s completely by accident as he doesn’t want to piss you off, as he’s seen you pissed off and doesn’t want that rage directed at him. However, if someone else pisses you off, he’ll grab popcorn and watch you kick some ass.

-Ares, Hermes, Thor, Poseidon, Beelzebub, Lu Bu

Doesn’t do it often, on purpose anyway, if it was an accident you wouldn’t get as pissed off, but when you know he said something on purpose, he would immediately get a chill up his spine as you give him a death glare and hold his hands up, immediately apologizing.

-Ares, Hermes, Poseidon, Hercules, Hades, Nikola, Jack

Teases you often, as he thinks you’re adorable when mad, but usually will only do one or two jokes, stopping when you would leg-sweep him and stand over him, holding him up by his shirt as you threatened to kick his ass or when you kabedon him to the wall, glaring up at him. He knows you can and will beat his ass with no hesitation, as you’ve done it before.

-Ares, Buddha, Rudra, Shiva, Qin Shi Huang, Nikola, Jack

A gremlin, constantly teases you and tells short jokes all the time, just to get a rise out of you, thinking that it’s funny, at least until you start ignoring him, pouting, not giving him any affection or attention, and in Buddha’s case, eating all of his snacks. Then he’s pretty quick to apologize.

-Loki, Buddha, Raiden, Shiva

Has been warned many times and has had his ass beaten many times by your petite, but unusually strong, self. Has not and will not learn. You will be lifted into the air to recreate the Lion King at any given moment. He will put stuff up on the top shelf where you can’t reach. He will get you a step ladder or a chair so you can talk to him eye-to-eye or kneel down on both knees. There is no escape. You are stuck with short jokes for life.

-LOKI, Raiden

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror buddha #ror loki #ror heracles #ror jack the ripper #ror thor #ror raiden #ror rudra #ror shiva #ror ares #ror hermes #ror qin shi huang #ror tesla

136 notes · View notes

our-death-means-flag · 1 year

Note

izzy hands x reader with enemies to lovers. that’s it. that’s the ask. im so in love w that angy little man

Bonding Under Duress

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader Summary: Stede really wants the crew to get along or at the very least tolerate each other. Unfortunately that includes you and Izzy. So the two of you get sent on an errand for the captains with the actual goal of the two of you getting to know each other. A storm has other plans and you and Izzy learn much more than you wanted to about each other… Warnings: minor descriptions of injury, Izzy being very mean to himself, angst, hurt/comfort

“Absolutely fockin’ not!”

“As much as I hate to agree with that asshole, no.”

For once you and Izzy agreed on something, both of you glaring at each other when you realized.

Stede wilted. You immediately felt the urge to comfort him. “Captain, I’m not trying to question your judgment here, but really, no. There’s no need for this.” You reassured.

Izzy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fockin’ ridiculous…” He grumbled under his breath. “I don’t take orders from you, you posh twat.” He snapped at Stede.

You immediately shot him a deathly glare. “God, you're predictable. Get some new material or just shut the fuck up.”

“Hey now, both of you. I’m not asking.” Stede puffed his chest out a tad. “It’s an order from your captain. I’m not expecting you two to become best friends or anything. All you need to do is go on that island and bring back some peaches! Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours and who knows, you may learn something about each other.” Stede seemed very optimistic.

You sighed, already nodding, well aware of how far Stede was willing to go for an idea like this.

Izzy seemed to be about to protest when Ed leaned in. “An order from both of your captains actually!” He chimed in.

“Edward…” Izzy all but whined.

“Izzy.” Edward echoed, even mockingly copying Izzy’s whiny tone.

You watched as Izzy’s face flushed every shade of red, though whether it was rage or embarrassment or maybe both, you couldn’t tell. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Izzy must have noticed since that seemed to set him off. “Oh fuck off. I’m not going to some stupid fockin’ island to get some stupid fockin’ peaches with this stupid fockin’-

“Bye! See you in a few hours! Have fun, you two!” Ed yelled cheerfully as he was towed away.

You waved while watching Izzy in your peripheral vision. The bastard looked furious. So much so that he was practically vibrating with rage. Then again he had been thrown over Ed’s shoulder like a bag of potatoes and all but dragged here.

“So…” You finally asked, drawing the word out, on guard in case he decided to bite you. “Let’s go find some stupid fockin’ peaches, eh?” You couldn’t manage to mimic Izzy’s voice but if you said so yourself, your ‘fock’ was pretty accurate.

Izzy snarled. “Piss off. We’re not working together. I’m going one way and you go the other.” He turned on his heels and stormed closer to the edge of the forested part of the island. You merely waited. He paused, deep in thought, glanced one way, then the other and then seemingly realized what you already knew.

You, of course, decided to rub it in. “I sure won’t stop you if that’s what you want. But I’d recommend against it. Not only is it against captains’ orders but when was the last time you did any navigating on land?” Izzy seethed and you grinned. “Also I have all the stuff, since rather than acting like a feral dog, I actually packed so… again, all your call of course.”

Izzy very obviously considered running off on his own if just to spite you but instead he turned quickly and stormed up to you. “Fine. You’re right.” He said it like the words burned his throat. “But I swear if you get us lost-“

“Yes, yes, I know, you’ll maim me and/or kill me in some creatively brutal and violent fashion.” You waved a hand dismissively. Deciding to go further you added. “Which you and I both know you won’t do since that’d piss off the captains.” You knew you shouldn’t keep teasing but you enjoyed watching Izzy turn red.

With a seething Izzy following you, you started trekking into the forest. Luckily you’d come prepared and had brought along your wide knife to cut through the foliage. The terrain of the island wasn’t quite the same as the ones you’d been on before but it was close enough.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with you occasionally warning about upcoming hazards in your path. You easily navigated the uneven terrain but Izzy had significantly more difficulty. Probably because he was used to a ship. As much as a ship swaying could mess up your balance, it was not comparable to uneven weird terrain like this.

The first few times you’d chimed in with a “careful” or “watch your step” Izzy had snarled back at you to “Fuck off”. But after nearly falling on his ass a few times, he started to take your warnings more seriously.

(Honestly you deserved sainthood for not laughing until your lungs failed every time he almost fell. Especially since he’d always flail and pinwheel his arms to keep steady. Something made even funnier by the fact that he was unharmed beside his ego.)

Luckily for both Izzy and your composure, you managed to track down the peach tree quickly enough. As you clambered up the tree and gathered up the requested fruit, Izzy stood around looking woefully out of place.

You really were trying to work on Stede’s ridiculous bonding plan but you couldn’t resist and pelted Izzy with a peach. You nailed him dead center in the chest. He jumped clearly not having expected the sudden fruit attack but somehow his reaction time was quick enough to catch the peach as it bounced off his chest. He shot you a glare which you returned with a smile. Izzy tossed the peach in his hand, clearly silently considering throwing it back at you. However you simply motioned with the extra bag you’d brought which was currently full of peaches, making it readily apparent that you would in fact, return fire and that you had much more ammo. He backed off.

You climbed down from the tree and just as you were sorting yourself out…

BONK.

A peach contacted the side of your head. You spun to face Izzy and he had the gall to look confused and innocent despite the fact that he clearly no longer had a peach in hand. You couldn’t help but smirk as you ducked down to pick up the peach and as you were standing up (but before you fully did) you threw it at him.

It just kept going that way as the two of you walked back. The peach being tossed back and forth with varied strength. Whether or not it was possible to break someone’s nose with a peach, Izzy sure as hell was trying to. Hell he’d nearly succeeded throwing the peach so hard you nearly hit yourself in the face with your own hand just from catching it. You on the other hand, had a simpler goal, you wanted to land it on his head. Izzy seemed to assume that you were aiming for his face so his defenses were focused there instead. You were certain you could land it before the two of you made it to the beach but you didn’t get the chance.

You noticed first. Izzy seemed really uncomfortable on land so that’s probably why he missed it. However you’d thought the air felt off all day. But it was only when the first thunder crack pierced the mostly quiet area that you realized that the off-ness you were feeling was the same way you’d feel before a storm.

Izzy had been mid throw when it happened. The peach hit you in the leg and was instantly forgotten as his attention immediately darted towards where you knew the shore was, doubtlessly worrying about Ed. “We have to get to the Revenge.”

Izzy looked genuinely concerned so you didn’t give a snarky answer. “We can’t. There’s no way they can get a dingy out in what’s about to be a storm.” Your words were immediately emphasized when rain started pouring down. “We can’t make it back now. Let’s find somewhere to hunker down and get back when the storm passes.” Izzy still looked moments away from booking it back to the ship. “Ed, Fang, and Ivan are all on that ship. You don’t have to trust anyone else, just trust that they can handle it. Don’t risk making them worry about us on top of managing the ship.”

Izzy cursed under his breath as he visibly struggled with the choice but luckily your logic won him over and you didn’t have to drag him. “Fine.” He hissed the word out harsher than any curse word.

The storm hadn’t been gracious enough to give the two of you any time to talk and the wind and rain was already getting stronger. Despite just having had to talk Izzy out of this exact thing, you couldn’t help but worry about the Revenge. The island was pretty much all tall mountains, you doubted that your crew had gotten much warning. But you had to accept your own logic. They’d handle it. You could trust Ed and Stede to keep the ship safe (admittedly mostly the former).

The wind and rain made traversing the nasty terrain even more difficult than it had been before. The wind knocked you off balance and the rain made the ground slippery. The warm day you’d been having moments ago had vanished, the rain coupled with the wind made you nearly shiver. Despite the cold, you couldn’t run for cover. You had to painstakingly walk carefully to avoid falling.

After you got dangerously close to losing your balance at the edge of a small valley, you decided to reach out a hand to Izzy since you could tell he was struggling. His frantic stumbling was significantly less funny when he was actually in danger. Of course, Izzy didn’t appreciate your offer. You took it as a testament of how much you’d seen Izzy swear that even over the deafening roaring wind, you could tell he was telling you to “Fuck off”.

You could feel the mud under your boots shifting and you were incredibly worried about it giving out in a mudslide so you tried your damndest to move as quickly as possible. You nearly fell when your boot slipped out from under you. If the wind wasn’t so goddamn loud, Izzy might have actually heard your warning. But the sound of your voice was easily overpowered by the wind.

Then the ground gave out from under both of you. You just barely had the time to launch yourself backwards, slamming none too gently into a tree for your troubles. Izzy wasn’t so lucky. You were immediately back on your feet and spotted him lying at the bottom of the small valley.

“Izzy?” You called out as loudly as you could. No reply. He didn’t so much as stir. Even if he hadn’t heard you, you doubted Izzy would just lay on the ground. “Shit.” You mumbled under your breath and quickly as you could, you made your way down, none too gracefully. You were at his side shockingly fast. Izzy was a little banged up but he was breathing thankfully, though it looked like he’d hit his head. He was out cold. “Well, shit.” You mumbled to yourself.

You ducked down and were able to carefully maneuver Izzy into your arms. For such a small man, he was shockingly heavy. But the universe did give you a bit of mercy when you spotted a small cave, looking to be most protected from the storm. You managed to drag the two of you inside. You put both Izzy and the bag of peaches down and dropped down to the ground, exhausted. Even though you were out of the wind in the rain, you were still soaked and you were still freezing. You forced yourself to get back up.

Luckily, the wind blew quite a few sticks further into the cave so you weren’t stuck trying to build a fire with wet tinder. Cold and uncomfortable as you were, it was incredibly difficult to be patient enough to slowly grow the fire but your dedication paid off. Before long You were basking in the warmth of a newly made fine.

You pulled off your overcoat which, while completely soaked, had protected most of your clothes. Izzy had given you shit about it, how a long coat wasn’t practical in the Caribbean (ironic, coming from a man in leather pants and a leather vest).

Despite what you wanted to do you knew you couldn’t just sit by the fire. You had to take care of Izzy as well. You dragged yourself up and knelt down by Izzy. He had a small cut on the back of his head but luckily it didn’t seem to be that bad. You didn’t hesitate to tear off one of your sleeves to wrap it up. You pulled Izzy as close to the fire as you dared but he was still shivering a little. You managed to pull him up so you could start the daunting task of getting him out of his vest and shirt. His vest was pretty easy but his shirt was completely soaked and probably responsible for sapping a lot of his body heat.

As you untied his cravat you noticed the ring around it. You’d spotted the ring before (gotten a pretty close look when Izzy decided he needed to get into your face to yell at you). He always wore it. It was clearly important to him so you didn’t want to just set it aside and risk it getting lost, so instead you slipped it into one of your pockets. At least it would be safe there until Izzy was conscious enough to not lose it.

You had to rest his head on your shoulder so you could wrestle his dead weight out of his shirt. ‘Please don’t wake up right now. Please don’t wake up right now, ‘ you silently begged the universe, because, while you usually followed Stede’s ‘talk it through’ method, that was a conversation that you didn’t want to have. Luckily for once in this dumpster fire of a day, you at least got that and Izzy stayed unconscious.

You definitely did not glance at his chest, taking in the mix of scars and tattoos that you’d never seen before. And it definitely didn’t look incredibly attractive on him. Not at all.Your jacket was dry at that point so you laid it over Izzy as a makeshift blanket. You considered taking his sword since you didn’t want to get stabbed on instinct when he woke up, but you also figured he’d probably feel better if he had it with him.

You crumpled against the opposite wall of the cave and basked in the warmth of the fire. Since you were the only one who was conscious, you had watch duty by default. You glanced at Izzy. Hopefully he’d wake up soon. You doubted you could carry him back to the dingy and leaving him behind so you could get someone to help you made you incredibly nervous.

It was strange to see him so calm. With his face so relaxed and your sleeve wrapped around his head, he looked like a completely different person. You let yourself stare at him for a moment before focusing on something else. Luckily your bag full of peaches was within arm’s reach. Quite a few of them had been crushed or otherwise mangled by the rough journey but you managed to find one that was mostly intact.

At least you had snacks…

---

It wasn’t easy to gauge the passage of time in a cave but you’d have to guess it had been around an hour. You’d had to go grab more twigs and tinder for the fire and the rain seemed to be slowing. That was something at least. Looked like the storm was going to stop soon. Then you’d have to figure out how to get Izzy and yourself back to the Revenge.

Before you could worry about that a low raspy groan caught your attention. Izzy was waking up… He immediately grabbed at his head, hand going for the injury at the back of his head.

“Careful!” You said, more on instinct than anything else.

His eyes immediately darted to you and after a brief moment where he seemed to take in his surroundings, he immediately drew his sword and pointed it at you and skittered away as best he could until his back hit the wall. His whole body seemed shaky and uncertain, the hand holding the sword was trembling.

You held your hands up in slight surrender, not wanting to freak him out any more than you already had. “Well, good morning to you too…” you managed, voice shaking slightly with an awkward chuckle. He stared longer. Not knowing what to do, you cracked a joke to ease the tension. “I know, the one sleeve thing looks great on Ed but it sure looks stupid on me eh?” You motioned with your bare arm for emphasis.

“What the fuck…?” He managed to hiss out, he looked genuinely confused.

You furrowed your brow. “Do you remember what happened?” You weren’t a doctor by any means but memory loss could happen with head injuries.

“I…” Izzy managed. He lowered his sword and clutched at his head. “I fell?” He mused, more to himself before a look of clarity passed over him and he hissed out “stupid fockin Stede Bonnet. Stupid fockin peaches.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, if he was pissed off, then that was back to the status quo for Izzy. “So you definitely remember then. How’s your head?”

“How the hell do you think it is? It fuckin’ hurts.” He snapped at you. He glanced around getting a proper look at your surroundings. “What the fuck happened?”

Glad that he seemed more calm and had stopped pointing a sword at you, you explain what happened: how he’d fell, how you’d dragged him here. When you reached the part where you’d taken his shirt off, he’d immediately looked down and seemingly realized that he was in fact, not wearing a shirt. He pulled your jacket up to cover himself more, looking almost comically like a blushing lady.

“Why the fuck?” He immediately snarled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because it was soaking wet and you were shivering? You would’ve frozen your damn tits off if I hadn’t.”

He looked like he was moments away from snapping at you when he stopped himself and his hand immediately shot to his throat. Before he could say anything you jumped in, well aware of what he was about to ask. “I have it, don’t worry.” You patted the ring in your pocket. Izzy stared at you almost nervously. You probably would’ve teased him at any other time but you could tell he was genuinely concerned, so you didn’t.

You stood slowly and walked around the fire, choreographing your movements as not to take him by surprise. “Here,” you said as you gently placed the ring in his hand. He clutched it tightly to his chest, one hand clutching his ring and the other toying with the fabric of your coat. You sat back down and leaned against the wall of the cave.

You expected Izzy to break the silence with an insult or a sarcastic comment, instead you got a soft, shaky, “Why?”

“You wear that ring all the time. It’s clearly important to you and I didn’t want it to roll away or get lost or something. I-“

“Not the ring.” Izzy interrupted. You raised a brow. “This.” He motioned at himself and the cave around the two of you. “All of this.”

You didn’t expect to somehow get more confused after his explanation. “What do you mean by ‘this’? I mean, sure a cave ain’t all that cozy but it got us out of the storm…. Besides-“

“No!” Izzy snapped, clearly furious. You immediately shut up, not sure what to do. He luckily didn’t raise his sword at you but he leveled a finger pointing at you accusingly. “Why did you do any of this?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what he meant. “Uh, you know that if I’d left you back there, you could’ve died?”

He nodded as you thought he might get it then he spoke again. “You hate me.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were just a given, a fact of the world.

You blinked. The pieces clicked together. “I don’t hate you.” You explained softly. Izzy scoffed, disbelief clear on his face. “No, I’m being honest. I don’t hate you. Granted you can be a fucking asshole. But, I only give you shit because you give my crew shit. I don’t hate you. And even if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t have left you for dead.”

Had he really expected you to just leave him there?

“Wait…” Though, that did raise a concerning question… “Are you telling me that you would have left me?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You’re one of few people on that ship that knows what they’re doing. Besides, even if I wanted to, the crew wouldn’t believe me. Even if it was an accident, they’d all assume I killed you. But they actually like you. Even the captains. You could come back drenched in my blood and they’d still believe whatever you said.” Izzy chuckled humorlessly.

You stared, too stunned to speak. Suddenly, you felt awful about teasing him before. No wonder he was so incredibly hostile if he thought you could murder him and get away with it, that you hated him enough to do it. You buried your face in your hands. “Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” You glanced up to see Izzy was staring at you, confusion clear on his face.

You hesitated, trying to figure out how best to phrase it so it wouldn’t sound patronizing. “I’m so sorry for anything I did that made you feel like you weren’t safe with me. I doubt my words mean much but, I really wasn’t going to do anything more than tease… or hit you with a peach… Sorry about that too.”

His expression only got more confused. You watched as he went from confused to a little scared then immediately to annoyed. “Don’t pretend to care!” He snapped. “If you're planning on lowering my guard for some later attack, it wont work.”

The ‘it won’t work this time’ was implied. Sure, you hadn’t been a pirate all that long, but you certainly knew how awful people could be. You couldn’t help but wonder about Izzy’s scars. Had he gotten any of them from crew members who hated him? Just waiting for a moment of vulnerability to pounce.

Izzy Hands was making far too much sense for you all of a sudden.

“That’s happened before?”

Izzy all but growled at you for that then he actually looked at you. He seemed surprised by whatever he saw. “Of course.” He replied, again his voice matter-of-fact as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.

But you were undeterred. “That may be how some people are… But you’ve made it pretty clear how soft and pathetic the Revenge Crew is.” He didn’t seem convinced. “If I really wanted to do something like that, we literally would not be having this conversation right now!” You emphasized.

“Unless you want something from me.” Izzy snapped immediately.

“Well, I don’t. Not really. You don’t really have to believe me. But I’m not going to hold this over your head. Really, I would've done the exact same thing if anyone else got hurt.”

Izzy stared at you, eyebrow raised. After a long moment, he huffed and broke eye contact. “I can’t understand you…”

You sighed. It seems like the two of you got completely opposite things from this. You could finally understand at least in part why Izzy was like that, while he was completely baffled by you. You were saved from the uncomfortable silence by noticing that the rain had finally subsided. “Ah, the rain’s gone. Finally, we can get back to the ship.”

---

Izzy watched, pensive, as you stood and stretched, grabbing the bag filled with those stupid fockin peaches, carefully putting out the fire and generally cleaning up. He couldn’t help but notice your bare arm, the one whose sleeve was currently wrapped around his head.

“Oh, here!” You tossed him his vest, shirt and cravat. They were all in good condition. You’d clearly taken care to take them off without damaging them. Eager to put all this strangeness behind him, Izzy wrestled his shirt and vest on, keeping an eye on you as he did.

None of this made any sense.

You hated him. He knew that. You’d made it clear from the moment you’d met. You were Bonnet’s first mate, loyal to your captain and protective over your crew. You’d made it no secret that you didn’t like how he did things.

Izzy had been hated before. Of course he had. He had a position that people wanted and he was well aware that he wasn’t all that likable. At least before people had a reason to fear him as well. You didn’t. You had an entire crew behind you and with Edward so wrapped up in Bonnet, Izzy didn’t have anyone to protect him.

Well, except… You, apparently. You, who’d had every opportunity to get rid of him on this stupid trip even before the storm came in.

And yet, here he was. Unharmed. Not only had you not tried anything besides the same teasing as usual, but you’d actually saved him. That alone was completely ridiculous. But you’d done more than that. You’d gone out of your way to take care of him. (His ring felt like it was burning in his hand as he put it back in place.) Even if you weren’t going to kill him solely out of respect for your captains, you wouldn’t have needed to do any more than drag him here. Yet, you’d not only torn your shirt to patch him up, you’d given him your jacket and even taken the time to make sure he didn’t lose his ring, just because you knew it was important to him.

He tried to stand but he was quickly overcome with dizziness and nausea so he stumbled. He braced himself to hit the ground but… Instead he found himself leaning against your chest, your arms wrapped around him.

“Shit! Izzy you okay? Ah, fuck dumb question, sorry. Are you feeling dizzy?” Your voice was still so fucking concerned. No mockery. You gently pulled away, seemingly unphased by the fact that he wasn’t responding to you, still supporting him so he didn’t fall. “You… uh… can hang on to my jacket if you like?” Your words made him realize that he was still desperately clutching your jacket.

He hissed out a “Fuck off” on reflex but… Fuck it. He slipped your jacket on. It didn’t really fit all that well but it was warm.

You smiled. “How about this…” You let him wrap an arm around your shoulder. “I don’t think you should be walking on your own but I sure as hell can’t carry you anymore. For such a tiny man, you’re rather heavy…”

Izzy scoffed. “Not my fucking fault you’re a giant.” He grumbled. There was less bite in his tone than usual but it was absolutely still there.

You smiled at the insult. “I’ll take that as you feeling a bit better. You’re already being a snarky asshole.”

It had been a pain in the ass to clamber back up the hill he’d slipped down. Honestly, Izzy was surprised you managed to clamber down in the middle of the storm and not fall as well.

The walk back was generally quiet only broken by your occasional comment of “careful” or “watch your step” which, Izzy was realizing, you’d done before. He’d assumed that you were being condescending. But now, considering everything else you’d done you must have been genuinely warning him. The more he thought about it the more he realized how you’d never really been that bad. You teased and occasionally the two of you would get into genuine arguments, but you never did anything particularly malicious. And you clearly cared about your crew. You’d check in on everyone (himself included he realized suddenly) after a raid, make sure everyone ate, and, while you were far too lax about it in Izzy’s opinion, you did make sure chores got done.

Hell, considering how much of non-captain Stede fockin’ Bonnet was, Izzy had little doubt in his mind that you’d been mostly running the ship.

You were still soft. Too soft. But, clearly, it was working to some extent.

You were actually making far too much sense for him all of a sudden.

Dammit.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for the two of you to find the beach. The Revenge was visible in the water and even from this distance, Izzy could tell that it was undamaged. A dinghy was also already enroute and its passengers all immediately waved at the two of you once they spotted you.

Edward, impatient as ever, decided he wasn’t going to wait and jumped off the dinghy and waded the last few feet of water before sprinting over to you. “Izzy! Y/N! You two okay? Nasty one that was, huh?” (Any other time, Izzy would have probably chastised him for jumping into the water like that (especially after a storm) but right now, he was just glad to see his captain was safe. )

“Izzy hit his head. Pretty sure it's not that bad but he might have a concussion.” You reported quickly. “Is everyone else all right?”

“Everyone’s fine!” Ed replied.

“The ship?” Izzy asked.

“Fine as well, Iz. No worries.” Edward assured. A pause. “Well… Aside from a few of Stede’s books.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. Of course.

The dinghy ride back was irritating. Roach seemed determined to check Izzy for a concussion right then and there. Though, it seemed that he agreed with you. Izzy would be fine. He’d definitely feel it tomorrow but he’d live.

The moment the two of you set foot on the Revenge, Stede was there. “Oh thank goodness! We were incredibly worried! I’m very sorry about all this! The storm really surprised us.”

Luckily, Izzy’s head had calmed enough that he could pull away from you and lean against the railing instead. He quickly glanced around, the deck was messier than usual but didn’t look all that bad. His attention couldn’t help but drift back to you…

You were giving a quick report of everything (far more professional than Stede Bonnet deserved) before presenting him with the bag full of peaches. Bonnet was quick to announce that everyone was getting some kind of peach dessert that Izzy had never heard of as a reward for making it through a storm. Izzy scoffed. The reward for making it through a storm was being alive.

As Bonnet ran to the chef so he could explain this weird dish, you walked back to Izzy, leaning against the railing next to him. “I can handle everything up here. You should probably lie down.” You explained softly.

“Don’t need to lie down.” Izzy grumbled back.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of having two first mates on a ship if you can’t take a break? I’ll get Captain Ed to drag you if I must.”

“Fine.” Izzy spat. A long pause. Izzy glanced around. Everyone seemed not to be focused on the two of you. “Thank you.” He said quickly.

You smiled. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

“...I’m still going to be a dick.” He confessed.

That actually made you laugh and Izzy couldn’t help but think that he liked that sound. “Duh. I’m not expecting anything to change. And I’m still going to give you shit.”

Izzy chuckled himself and nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You pushed off of the railing and waved goodbye. “Well, I’m off to ask Stede if I can borrow one of his shirts for a bit. See you around!”

“Good luck.” Izzy replied, both of you well aware that you were going to be dragged into Stede’s wardrobe and not return for hours. You chuckled.

Just as expected, the moment you asked, Stede’s face lit up and you were immediately dragged off into his pastel colored hell.

Before Izzy could even take a breather, Ed was all but leaning on his shoulder. “Hi. You’re going to lie down.” His voice held the same force as an order. Izzy sighed, well aware that resistance was futile.

As Izzy was all but dragged back to his cabin, with a promise that someone would go check on him later, Ed decided to talk. “So,” His captain began with a grin that heralded problems. “Nice jacket.” Izzy’s eyes widened as he realized he was still wearing your jacket. “Guess you guys really got to know each other huh?”

“Piss off.” Izzy grumbled but made no move to take your jacket off. “My clothes were wet.”

“Ooh! So they saw you naked too?” Ed teased and Izzy all but short circuited.

“I- Ah… My shirt and vest were wet.” Izzy clarified, somewhat shakily.

Ed merely hummed. Izzy knew him well enough to know he wasn’t done. “So… when's the wedding?”

“Edward.”

A/N: Izzy’s one of my favorite characters so I have to be mean to him. Also, I've gotten a few requests for enemies to lovers with Izzy, so, there will be more coming soon. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

#ofmd x reader #ofmd izzy #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #izzy hands x reader #izzy has all the issues #ofmd #israel hands x reader

206 notes · View notes