#rip me apart you maniacs (loving) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adventuringblind · 1 month

Text

Pieces From You

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt-comfort

Summary: Carlos catches fleeting moments of pain through his mating bond. When he finds her being cut open, Carlos has to act fast and choose between revenge and saving the girl he loves.

Warnings: Blood, Ghouls eat people and is a major plot point, gore, Jos Verstappen's A+ parenting, abuse, anxiety, hospitals, mentions of sexual things, Landoscar being chaotic, protective big brother Max

Notes: For 🏍, I loved getting to write for my ghoul boys again, so I really hope you like it! T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like he was planning to run around the paddock like a maniac. It was the last thing he wanted to have on his agenda for today. However, the tie between him and his mate has him searching for her.

Whatever is causing her this pain needs to be eliminated. Carlos is doing his best to keep himself steady as he searches. He has a feeling he already knows what's happening. Or, at the very least, has an idea.

Max's baby sister had been on the unfortunate end of not receiving whatever gene makes them ghoul. Despite being pureblooded and the rest of her family having it. An anomaly that's made her different; a black sheep in her own home. That being said, Max has always been obnoxiously protective of her despite their fathers wants.

Carlos had seen the scars and bite marks. He'd seen the way she'd offered herself up on a silver platter when Max first introduced them all those years ago. It was customary for her, apparently, to let ghouls take a piece of her body. It hurt knowing even her father has taken bites out of her. Most likely, that’s what is happening now despite the fact she has his bonding venom seeping through her veins.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize the what was happening between them. That the mating call was there. Max was just a protective batard that wouldn’t let him anywhere near her until he proved himself. Which - considering her situation - made Carlos feel a little better.

Max had tried his best; he’s still trying his best. The piece of horn Max burned off for her rests against her neck. Carlos’ joined beside his while they were dating. He discovered how bad it hurts to lose a piece of the bone. Yeah, it’ll grow back, but in the moment he was a blubbering mess and she was the one holding his hand.

With two horn pieces and a scarred over bonding mark, this shouldn’t be happening anymore. Nobody should be laying a finger on her; on his mate.

Carlos makes his way to the Redbull garage. He’d spent the last hour in debrief and already searched all of his. If she’s not there, then she’s probably around Max. Or was trying to be around him and got separated. Worse - max could be the source of her pain. Prince of the ghouls or not, he won’t hesitate to rip him apart if that’s the case.

He dives into the Redbull garage and follows his nose. Not the best of his species but it works. It’s his ears that work better and as he turns a corner, he finds he doesn’t need his nose anymore. Carlos can hear her wailing for either himself or Max. the latter must not be around if he’s not already fighting whoever has the audacity to try and hurt Carlos’ lover.

He slides around the corner and snarls at the, ironically, human offender. She's wailing at the man, trying to shove him off but failing despite her best efforts. It doesn't help this guy has gravity on his side with a knee in her chest. He's carving out pieces of her, slowly and methodically.

The red on the floor and the tang of metal burning his nose. He has to do everything in his willpower not to make a show of it. If he risks himself, he can't help her.

He settles for dragging the man backwards, wrestling the knife away from him. "Funny, I thought humans didn't eat people." Carlos tosses the struggling body to the side and makes for the girl on the floor.

"Pretty bite mark on her neck, wouldn't you say?" The cocky smile on the mans face nearly sends Carlos into a frenzy. "Figured I should show her what's gonna happen eventually."

"Ah yes, hurt the innocent because that's how to win them to your side." This time - he does abandon the original plan and flashes his elongated canines at him. Carlos' eyes darken when the man shrinks backwards and hauls ass in the other direction. Carlos will deal with him later.

With nothing else around to try and stop the bleeding, Carlos sheds his own shirt and wraps it around the gaping wound in her. He should not be able to see that much of the under part of her skin.

"I tried to get him off-"

"I know, you did so well amor. Just keep your eyes on me now, yeah?"

He pulls out his phone and rings Lando. He silently pleads that the Brit picks up because there is no way Carlos is going to get into emergency with her like this. Not when it's standard to test everyone who walks through the doors.

"Hola~ You've reached Lando!"

"Need you in the Redbull garage."

Carlos can hear Lando's chipper mood fade away. "Everything alright?"

"Need your human self to get her to emergency. Also, bring Oscar with you." The girl underneath him whines as he tries to keep pressure on the wound.

"And why would you need my mate for considering he can't get into emergency either?"

"Well - I'm going to need him to stop me and Max from doing anything stupid."

Carlos and Max are pacing the floor. He feels like he's explained the situation to the Dutch a hundred time now and he's still not computing.

"But he was human?"

Oscar knocks his head against the door. A smart move, considering it's the only exit. "He was proving a point."

"It was the wrong one," Max huffs and crosses his arms. Twenty-six now and Max still has the ability to look like Carlos' seventeen year old teammate who pouted when his voice cracked. His sister had been younger then and Max wouldn't let her near the track; not until she was an adult. Even then it was a pain.

His phone rings with Lando's contact. The Facetime call makes him hope that he'll get to see his girl awake.

Lando's face fills the screen, a little smile on his face. "I figured you would want proof of life." He pans the camera over to her and the blinking heart monitor and her blinking eyes. She tries to smile at him, but it's lopsided. "Her arm is pretty messed up and they are getting ready for surgery, but she'll be alright."

Carlos' heart settles a bit. He won't be able to calm completely until she is back in his arms. It helps know that she is at least okay and breathing.

Max throws himself in front of Carlos’ phone screen. “Thanks for being with her Lando.”

“I can’t have my emotional support tribe human dying on me! I would die with the three of you all alone! Oscar could dick me down for days and I still would be stressed!”

“Are you saying my dick isn’t good enough?” Max and Carlos turn to look at Oscar as Lando is now blushing furiously on the phone screen.

“That’s not - you know that’s not what I meant!”

There is nothing more terrifying than Oscar's calm expression with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Uh-huh, nice try. If you can walk tomorrow, then you're not walking anywhere until you can't do it without stumbling."

There is a slurred laugh of Carlos' love echoes through the speakers of the phone. "Maybe Lando will be in here with me."

Carlos can't help but lose it. All he wants is to wrap her up in his arms. Let Lando try to outrun Oscar and laugh when he's limping to the airport and can't sit right on Max's jet.

Really, he just wants her.

"When will the surgery be done?"

"They are estimating late tonight, depending. Might be faster than that."

Carlos looks at Max and Oscar. "I think we have time to do some hunting, wouldn't you say?"

He receives a couple of smirks in return.

She cracks her eyes open, disoriented, and groggy. Her arm hurts, and the memory of being pinned hits her harder than ever.

She sits up in a hurry, franticly looking to see if she's alone. Lando appears in the corner of her eye and gently pushes her back down. "You're alright now. Doctors got you all patched up." He smiles at her gently despite the hesitancy in his eyes.

"Where's Carlos?" Her voice is in shambles and makes her cringe.

Lando keeps a hand on her bicep. "He's with Max and Oscar. Want to see if he'll pick up?"

She nods her head yes, excited to see her savior. Though her plans are foiled when her doctor cones in. Her eyes widen at seeing the male, not the same one, but similar to her attacker.

She stays small and quiet as he goes about his work, checking her charts. He leans down to listen to her heart and whispers. "I saw the mark, don't worry, I'm one of them. I know how to get your mate in here if you would like?"

Both her and Lando are nodding frantically. The waiting is miserable, but they pass the time with light conversation and cartoons.

The doctor comes back in with the three ghouls in tow. They are chatting away like nothing is the matter. He does another once over if her vitals before leaving them to their own devices.

As in, she drags Carlos into the bed with her. He takes the side that has her good arm and cradles her injured arm gently. He gently runs his fingers along the bandages. "He's gone now. You won't ever have to worry about him again."

She peers up into his eyes. "Why's that?"

The three ghouls share a look, and Lando gives Oscar a skeptical glare. "What did you three do?"

"Revenge tastes delicious sometimes." Max giggles and winks at her. To most it be unsettling. To her, it brings a sense of comfort.

Later into the night, when the other three boys are asleep, she lays away on Carlos' chest. He's been trying to get her to sleep for an hour now, but there is an unsettling anxiety after today's events. There are too many possibilities.

"Sleep, mi amor. I can feel you thinking too much."

"I'm scared... it's not just my dad anymore. I thought I would be able to flash my mating mark and be safe. It's the humans, too, though. Am I... am I like them now? If I'm not giving myself to solve the problem, then am I adding to it?" It feels to say it aloud. All those heavy thoughts finally lifted off her chest.

Carlos continues his soothing motion on her head. He tucks her closer to his chest. "You never have been and never will be a problem. It's others who fight amongst themselves over mindless disagreements and differing opinions. You are someone who can understand us. You don't intend on hurting anyone." She can feel his love for her radiating through her veins as he continues. "What happened today wasn't your fault. That was someone else being cruel because they were scared."

"You are my everything, Carlos. I just want to help."

"You help me by being alive; by being yourself. A fighter who isn't afraid to throw herself in front of an apex predator if it means protecting them."

Carlos looks at her with adoration in his eyes. He cups her face gently, fingers brushing over the bite mark on her clavicle as he moves upward.

"I couldn't have chosen anyone better. You are perfect, and in time, I think you're going to make this world a better place."

With the need for reassurance her mind was craving now sated, she rests peacefully. Immune to the world around her and safe in Carlos' arms. It's a good feeling to know that he's not just protecting her; she's doing the same for him.

... Even if it isn't always the outcome she wanted.

125 notes · View notes

toysrguts · 3 months

Text

MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!

thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^

•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once

•half asian (his mom is chinese)

•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned

•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it

•bpd representation 💯💯💯

•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)

•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on

•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on

•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window

•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money

•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me

•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby

•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it

•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie

•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)

•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection

•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm

•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up

•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)

•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank

•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him

•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)

•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups

•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand

•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it

•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted

•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there

•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket

•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks

•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with

•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)

184 notes · View notes

anticapitalistclown · 1 year

Note

can I request some lookism boys reacting to reader sleeping with plushies?

You can choose the characters but please add james lee 🥺

I love your writings!

sure!

James Lee, Jake Kim, Gun and Taesoo Ma reacting to reader sleeping with plushies

James

The pink haired man was staring at your favorite plushie while he had you sitting in front of him, you invited him over and now you both were talking in your bed about your sleeping manias; you told him that you need that exact plushie he has been holding for a while to sleep and that you hug it every night.

A bit of jealousy flooded in James as he still had the plushie in his hands "I wanna rip his arm apart" he spitted, you jumped on him to rescue your plushie "don't hurt fluffy!" you cried. James looked at you astonished "fluffy" he repeated the name, fluffy was for James a rival now, a really powerful one.

Jake

You obligated Jake to take a rest, you were afraid his body will crumble after all he's been through, so you drag him to sleep in your bed.

"here you can sleep all you want, I'll make sure none annoys you", you pushed the man in your bed "so aggressive, we didn't even had a date gosh" he said jokingly "I would want you to meet my parents first" he continued "oh for real?" you pushed him in you bed again "nah, nevermind" he finally gave up and accommodated in your bed, his eyes inspecting your bedroom and you, who was placing a plushie in the bed with so much care, much more care than with him actually.

"a favorite plushie?" he broke the silence again, you knew that if you don't reply Jake will still keep talking and not sleeping "yeah, I can't sleep without mr. bubbles" you tossed the plushie to him "it's comforting to sleep with him" Jake grabbed the plushie "thanks for helping y/n sleep every night mr. bubbles".

Gun

"what's this? a rat?" Gun asked holding your plushie, you gave him an offended look "can't you see it's a bear?" you went to save your plushie from Gun failing at it "this thing is so ugly" he kept talking about your plushie "you ugly" you jumped on top of Gun trying to get buttons back "I need buttons to sleep" Gun raised his hand higher with buttons, you where trapped by his other arm "beg for it" he demanded "you really like to be begged you maniac" Gun's hold was stronger "please Gun" you gave up, the man was smiling at you "not enough" you whined "please don't get buttons away from me" once Gun noticed you were starting to get worried, that he gave you buttons back "so childish sleeping with a plushie" you hugged buttons, your body still under Gun's hold "thank you Gun" "whatever"

Taesoo

You were really excited, you reached that stage in the relationship where you can leave your stuff to your partner's house so you can stay with them as long as you need, your toothbrush, some clothes, meds where in Taesoo's place, even your most important object, your plushie, it was the one Taesoo got for you in a date, the first present actually and since then that you couldn't sleep any single night without it.

Taesoo joined bed a little more later, he hugged you from behind, always being the big spoon, his calloused hand roamed your body it was once he reached your arms that he felt something in between them, he took your plushie from you making you whine, Taesoo inspected the tiny brown bear, a smile in his face, it was the same one he got you when you where still getting to know each other, he actually got the plushie on a fight, after crashing someone's head against a claw machine minutes before going on a date with you.

You took your plushie from him "my taetae, I need him to sleep" Taesoo kissed your forehead, he was actually proud that you where so attached to the plushie he gave you.

#lookism x reader #lookism #jake kim #kim gimyung #james lee #lee jaehoon #taesoo ma #ma taesoo #park jong gun #gun lookism #jong gun

829 notes · View notes

daisiescomelate · 2 months

Text

Sukuna's vessel: the scapegoat

Sukuna's vessel: the series

Part 1 (you are here) - Part 2 - Part 3 (not yet) - Part 4 (not yet)

Go to masterlist of fics

Summary: Reader was forced to become Sukuna's vessel and it's not looking like it will work out. For the first time you see Sukuna anxious, afraid that the weight of his soul might overwhelm and dissipate your own if they don't find an alternative vessel on time.

Rated: Teenage up

Content: Sukuna/Reader, Angst, 2nd person POV, Sukuna uses pet names, nothing really happens but a lot of blood is mention, no plot just hug.

Sukuna's vessel

Urame was out looking for an alternative vessel as they had been doing for the past three weeks. It was just you and the curse inside of you in the tiny, moldy apartment you had broken into to take refuge while avoiding the sorcerers on your tail.

The fingers Urame had collected and the ones you had stolen from the school laid on a drawer close to the door in the living room. Sukuna did not allow you to swallow any more of his fingers, but both you and Urame were aware of the danger they represented as it’s very possible for them to attract unwanted attention and you might have to flee again to avoid being killed by some running curse in the area. You weren’t a particularly good fighter, and Sukuna refused to take over the body –in case you wouldn’t wake up again after– so your only option would be running for your life.

But get up and run for your life didn’t sound like an option for you right now either. You were running a fever with intense muscle cramps that bent your body in half most of the time– sucking the soul of a demon into your body was painful like that. You had been laying on the bed for the past three days, barely eating anything if it weren't for Sukuna forcing you to stand up and drag your feet to the kitchen, where Urame had left meals prepared for you to take during his absence.

The room was spinning, the sheets stuck to your skin, shattered in places where you had ripped the thin clothes after gripping and pulling it with so much force due to the spasms. Trails of tears dried over your cheeks. Every breath was painful and hot, your body felt too hot, too torturously hot, and any light that filtered through the closed curtains was too bright for your tired eyes.

Fuck, it hurts.

Sukuna’s presence was almost tactile, as if you could feel him laying right behind you, whispering words of comfort against your nape. He had been standing behind your own consciousness these past few days, an ever present, powerful weight in the back of your mind. He was not close enough to take over, but his proximity was so that you could feel his growing uneasiness. And fury.

Urame should be back this afternoon. He said he would bring medicine for your pains. You just need to wait for a bit longer.

Sukuna’s presence inside of your body was… heavy, suffocating, dark. The pieces of him wrapped around your very soul, crushing it, persistently trying to suffocate it. It took you a consuming amount of effort not to feel like it would blast your consciousness as mere smithereens of crystal. It took a toll on your flesh as well, as if your blood vessels were filled with a thick, dense oil that made your limbs impossible to lift.

Your mind was a rampage of hate, and rage, and blood thirst– and images, noises, bones snapping, denting, maniac feelings, thrill, tremor, delight, hunger, blood, blood, in your hands, in your face, on your lips, flesh, in the floor, in your teeth, the taste of it in your tongue making you shudder in pleasure. Sukuna’s soul was–

Horrible.

Terrible.

Help.

Why, why, why.

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Yes you can. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, love.

I really can’t. Sukuna– help.

You’re going to be okay, he said, his voice a soft echo in your mind. Your breath hiccupped. Come here with me, love. He invited you back to his domain and you didn’t protest. You craved it, his comfort, Sukuna, who would hold you so candidly, who could recite you poetry, who would protect you from anything. He would fix this, he could fix this, out of all the people in this world…

The breeze that leaked from the window next to the bed ran over your cold sweat making you shiver, but bringing no comfort for the heat regardless. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on Sukuna’s image, red blood waters in a turmoil surrounding a throne of bones, pieces of the people who had walked to a demon with thoughts of revenge, of a world with less evil, but had fallen.

Humiliated, stripped from all their dignity. For his entertainment. Screams and cries, for his amusement.

The ruffle of thick fabric of the curtains quieted down, the fingers of the light air brushing over your skin disappeared, and the sunlight that had caught in your eyes from the afternoon that had been hammering your temples banished. Instead, a different kind of warmth wrapped around you, the weight of two arms pressed around your waist.

“Hello”, a low voice greeted. Sukuna picked up your face with two fingers. Sitting on his lap you supported your head on his shoulder, too heavy to manage the weight on your own. Your hands trembled. Sukuna's laugh, Sukuna's glee at the blood, all that blood. With a choked breath, you sank deeper in his chest, bile threatening to go up your throat. You felt sharp nails on your skull, caring for your hair, moving in slow motions to calm down the worst of your distress.

“It's okay, It's okay”, he said as he took the strands of hair that had stuck to your forehead because of the sweat away from your eyes.

Contained like this, between four arms and the strength of his heartbeat on his chest, you attempted to relax, trusting he would hold the pieces together if your body came to fall apart the way it was threatening to do.

You weren't able to mutter a response, instead answering with a lame whimper.

“You're doing a good job out there, love. You just need to hold on for a little bit longer. You can do that for me, right?” he whispered a kiss away from the back of your ear.

It burns.

“I hate this, Sukuna. Please–”

It was too much, too much, too horrid. The visions, the thirst, the ecstasy of the blood dripping from his fingers to the floor and the bodies, the corpses, the pieces, the screams, they are begging, begging, stop, stop, stop.

“I know, I know.” He murmured and you could feel every word over your skin, a light brush of his lips, “It's okay, Urame is on his way. You'll be alright, you will see. Shh…”

“Make it stop, please”, you cried.

“I will, I will.” He lowered one of the hands over your waist and tucked it under your shirt, gently moving up and down under your clothes over your back. He kissed the lobe of your ear, “I will make it stop, you just need a little more patience. You can do it, sweetheart.”

You jerked with a sob, piercing his skin with your fingernails, drawing out trails of blood over the marks of his forearm. He just kept telling you to wait and wait and wait.

“Shh… Shh…” Sukuna pulled you closer. His fingers moved tenderly over your skin, drawing circles and lines, up and down your arms and shoulders, holding his lips over the crown of your head and rocking you back and forward.

His fault.

It was.

It was all his fault, Sukuna's fault.

For being the monster that he was.

The thing that he was then and the thing he was now.

They were hunting him.

It was him, him.

And all he did, all he killed, all he hurted.

What if you killed him?

If you killed him– would the pain stop? If you just manage to kill him, wouldn't that make you free? If you could just killed him–

“No need to think like that just yet, love”, your mind struggled to make sense of his words, and it took you a moment to understand that you might have said something out loud. “We will see. Don't bother your little mind right now with that sort of thing.”

You needed a solution. You needed something. Because it was only getting worse. There was too much containented in your human, mortal body, pushing from the inside out, tensing your skin, wanting space. Hunting for it, devouring for it. It was going to consume you. If you didn’t cast it out, if you didn’t act first–

But what would it mean to kill Sukuna like this, when most of his fingers had already been used to build this part of his soul that was now inside of you? How many fingers were left? Would they be enough for him to sustain him? Would that form be too weak to last? For how long the shattered pieces of one third of a soul, a fourth of a soul, would be capable of sustaining its form?

“Stop running your mind with useless thoughts.” You felt the sting of teeth over your neck right above your pulse. “Be quiet”, Sukuna said, brushing his lips over the wound before biting again, more carefully this time, moving with a trail of kisses up to your jaw.

He stayed in silence for a moment. The roar of the waves at your feet continued breaking skull against skull into sharp edge pieces that swayed with the waters.

“I know it hurts, love.” He said hiding his face in the space between your shoulder and your neck. “I know”, he repeated, “but I need you to take that agonizing stubbornness of yours and hold on for a little longer.”

Another beat of silence.

“I will be here for you, love.” Kiss. “I will tell you more stories about my time.” Kiss. “I will allow you to bite, scratch, and curse at me all you want.” Kiss. “I will hold you for as long as you need.” Kiss. “I will kiss every tear if that’s what you want.” Kiss.

Every kiss, as soft as Sukuna could never be, dropped over your face, your chest, your hands, palm, fingertips, and melted away the hate, the nightmares. Over every nerve, as if they could truly heal, until he felt you recovered some of your strength and he could hear from you an even breath.

“Don’t fall asleep, you know you can’t do that here. Open your eyes, love.” You fought the weight over your eyelids, Sukuna’s crimson blood eyes looked straight into yours. “There, good job.” He said in a low voice. “It’s okay” he repeated in a whisper, and it was almost so imperceptible you weren’t able to tell anymore if he was speaking to you or to himself.

Sukuna held you closer, with two arms around your waist and another over your tight. His sigh over your skin sent goosebumps over your body. You knew, you could feel it, the boiling anger, the urge to leave his domain –now a prison more than ever– to chase and kill. You knew how worried he was and how uncomfortable it made him feel. How foreign it was for him. And you knew that, as you did, he truly had no hope for what was about to be.

“That’s enough”. He said as he carefully moved you away from him on his lap.

It’s just the longest and most tortuous goodbye.

He cupped your face in his hands and commanded, “Wake up now and go to the kitchen. It’s lunch time already.”

Masterlist - Continue to next part

#fanfiction #fanfic #jjk #sukuna x reader #x reader #gn reader #x you #ryomen sukuna

92 notes · View notes

fruity-mega-coconut69 · 11 months

Text

How Was I Supposed To Know?

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Ghostface!Fem!Reader

[Summary]: You were in a very bad condition after last years killing, and are taken advantage of in a way that is unforgivable. Kind of.

[Warnings]: Angst, swearing, blood, death, bad writing, not proof-read

A/N: Here. It's long-ish, it's bad. Have fun reading.

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

The Ghostface killings of 2022 in Woodsboro was a huge Trauma for you, your girlfriend and you guys’ friends. And, of course, all of you are dealing with it differently. Tara is more distant-she still spends time with you, but as much- and Chad has just kind of turned into a gym-rat, Mindy got herself a girlfriend for emotional support. And you? Oh, you had gone completely crazy. No one has noticed your rather strange behavior, luckily for you.

And so, It wasn’t that hard for Quinn, Ethan and Bailey to lure you into their sick plan of killing your girlfriend and friends. First, you hesitated then, after around two weeks of consideration, you agreed. Never really knowing why, but you did. Of course you love your friends and you love your girlfriend, but you just need some kind of ... .relief. The first couple of months, you were only helping them create their plan of action then, you were there. In the apartment of Jason and Greg. You don’t really have any classes with them, so you haven’t talked with them.

The feeling of your knife ripping Greg’S flesh and tearing his skin was…..relieving. Your knife being pulled out of his chest then pushed back into it. To say that you had your fun while ripping and anatomizing his body, would be an understatement. You had never felt anything like it in your life. It was so indescribable. His blood splashing over your robe and mask.

Then, came Jason. The little game you played with him was exciting. Especially when he got so close to the fridge and slowly opened it, his face turning pale as he saw Greg- Teared into pieces. That’s when you striked and started stabbing him uncontrollably, chuckling as he was gagging on his own blood.

And now, here you are. In an abdomend theater, having arrived with Ethan after you had taken Mindy to the hospital with him. You are currently watching as Tara and Sam yell at Kirby, saying that she is the killer and you couldn’t help but let out a snort at the pathetic thought.

A minute or so later, Bailey came in. Started screaming with his pistol held high. “Kirby, stop! Get away from the girls!”

“What are you doing?” Kirby asked with a shaky voice, panting. Her head was covered in blood, due to how hard you had hit her.

“Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill my daughter?” Bailey shouted as his body shook. You chuckle and grip your knife harder when your eyes settle on Tara. She doesn’t deserve this. None of them do, but…….it is all too much fun.

“Jesus Christ!”Kirby yelled, her hands shakily holding the gun. Then she glances at the Carpenter girls. “Whatever he’s been saying to you, don’t listen to him!” Bailey’s face falls as he looks at her. “He’s probably the killer!”

And that’s when Quinn runs out from behind the curtain and starts going quickly towards them with her hand in the air, knife in it. “Behind you!” Kirby screams then Bailey shoots her and she falls to the ground. Bailey smirks as Quinn settles beside him and the Carpener sister’s gasp and look at them.

“Great job”

You laugh maniacally and run out from behind the curtains with Ethan calmly next to you. Yu, full of energy can’t stand in place as the others talk. “All three of you.” Bailey says.

“You?” Tara asks, betrayed.

“Yeah, of course me. Frankly, I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us.” He mumbles with gritted teeth. You look at the interaction with a smile on your face behind the mask.

“What do you mean ‘us’? “

At that, Ethan huffs and reaches up to take off his mask. “Ta-da!” He giggles. “ Mindy was right.It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. “ He smiles smugly. “ All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha literally named Chad! Fuck, It felt good to kill him. “ The girls just look at him, gasping for air. “ This was your grandmother’s, Sam. Nancy Loomis? “ He points to the mask with his knife. “ Really runs in the fucking family, doesn’t it? “ Then puts down his hand that holds the mask. “ Speaking of family.. My name is not Ethan Landry, is it, Dad? “ He looks at Bailey who smiles at him and laughs.

“Dad?” Your attention is turned to Tara as she speaks and your smile fades slightly, kid of having second thoughts then shaking your head and brushing them away. They laugh then turn around to face you.

You smirk and slowly reach up to take off your mask. When you do, you hear two gasps and smile. “Well, hello there, Carpenters. Heh, surprise! “ You hold up your hands and shake them, giggling. Tara’s eyes fill with tears as she looks into yours, seeing nothing but blackness.

“Y/N?” She gasps out and holds back a sob. “Why? “

All of a sudden, Sam speaks up. “Wait, if it’s you three, that just leaves….” Quinn smirks and turns her head at the older Carpenter, tilting it. “..Mindy?” She sighs and there is a beat of silence-the only sounds that can be heard are the two men snickering- then she slowly takes off her mask too.

“Hey, roomies.” She smirks as she looks at them with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “ Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

Tara scoffs. “Yeah, because you died!”

“Kind of didn’t, though.” Quinn turns to look at you and her family. “ It was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train. That sort of thing.”

Bailey sighs and puts his arm around his kids as you stand there with a sick smile on your face. “And I just made sure, I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one.” Sam and Tara just stares .” Little fake blood, a prosthetic. You’d be amazed with what a grieving father can get away with.”

You, Quinn and Ethan split up and go different ways. You make your way behind the girls as the ghostface siblings go on each side. Quinn walks slowly as she speaks. “ I got Stu Macher’s mask. He was my favorite.”

Then, it’s your turn to speak. “Well, I, myself, got Jill Roberts’s mask. She was my favorite.”

You glance at Ethan as he puts his/Nancy’s mask on a mannequin with Nancy’s bloodied coat.

“Nice. That’s number four. That’s three. “Bailey points at you. “That’s number two. “He now points at Quinn. “Which leaves…….” He puts his hand under his jacket and pulls out another mask.” Your father’s” There is a beat of silence as Sam’s and Tara’s angry eyes stare at him. “This is what we’ve been counting down to, Sam “ Sam’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looks at the mask held out in-front of her then glances back at Bailey. “ I'm gonna need you to put it on”

Tara’s breathing picks up as she looks at her sister. You let out a small giggle as a smile makes its way on your face. Your grip on your knife tightens in both excitement and anger. You are angry at your heart. Angry at it for aching whenever you spare even a small glance at Tara.

Sam’s scream snaps you out of your thoughts. “Fuck you!”

Suddenly Ethan leans over the drawer he is leaning against and slices her arm. She gasps and takes a step back along with Tara. You grit your teeth and take a step closer, swinging your arm and slicing the older Carpenter’s other arm.

“Ooh” Ethan lets out teasingly.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Tara screams and looks at Ethan then at you. When your eyes meet, there is a certain hatred in her eyes that you never in your life would’ve thought would be targeted towards you. Her hand holding the brick tightly.

“Oh come on. “

Sam turns back around to face Bailey. “What? What is it? You did this as a family? “

You perk up. “Uh, no. Not exactly. I’m just ... .I'm not in the family. They all are though.”

Ethan and Quinn join you where you stand, their knives painting towards the girls. “They’re still not getting it. “ Ethan shakes his head while smiling.

“I don’t know what you believe. But I didn’t commit those murders in Woodsboro. It wasn’t me!” Sam shakes her head rapidly and you scoff. Even laughing as Bailey speaks with them. Then, your eyes go to your girlfriend. Taking in the way her body is trembling in fear as she pants and listens to your accomplices. You clench your jaw as thoughts about not making it come to your brain. About giving up, turning against your accomplices , killing them and later feeling the warmth of her arms around you again. Even if you have to go to jail. But you shake your head and you focus back on your targets.

You see Quinn take a sudden step ahead from beside you towards Tara. She flinches back and gasps. You swallow and put a smile on your face, trying to shake your previous thoughts away. When you’re successful, you let out a sigh and grin brighter without a hint of pity or sadness in your eyes.

“And you’re a killer. “ You focus once again and see Bailey pointing at Sam. “Just like your father.”

“No, I’m not!”

That makes Quinn shake with anger as she screams” Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother! “ Tears well in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Sam shakes her head.

“You said your brother died in a car accident. “ Tara stares at Quinn.

“No, No, no. You sweet, dumb thing, he died in woodsboro. “Ethan pauses as he swallows while looking at the younger Carpenter. “At the hands of your bitch sister. “ He looks at Sam.

Sam looks around in disbelief as Tara’s mouth opens slightly in shock. “You’re Richie’s family. “ Sam blinks.

You snort. “Well, as I said before, not all of us, but yeah. Go on. “ You see Quinn roll her eyes.

Bailey’s glare hardens as she looks at the sisters. Then he nods rapidly. “ Yeah. “

Ethan takes a deep breath and strikes forwards, pushing his knife into Sam’s shoulder. Tara shouts at him and holds her sister, pushing them to the side.

“Ding-ding-ding! She’s finally starting to get it.” He laughs and grins.. All of you split from your previous position and you circle around them. You laugh as you pretend to strike and they flinch, swinging their arms, still holding the brick blocks. Bailey screams at them.

When there is a beat of silence, Quinn’s knife is pointed at Sam as she takes a step closer. Suddenly, Sam’s eyes darken as she looks at Quinn with hooded eyes.. Quinn raises her eyebrows, pushing her knife closer to Sam’s throat. “There she is. There’s the fucking killer.”

You squeal in excitement and jump up and down. “Who-hoo! Yes!”

Tara turns and looks at Bailey. “Great parenting job, by the way. “Then she looks at you and shakes her head. “I-...why? “

You bite the inside of your cheek as you look into her teary eyes before answering while laughing. “ Well I guess I’m just fucking crazy, bitch! “ You spit.

Quinn realizes what Tara has said and angrily pushes her. Making you huff with a new found anger. “ Shut your whore fucking mouth!”

— —

A minute or two later after Bailey’s monologue, he starts shouting with his gun pointed at Sam. Your face scrunches in disgust as his spit flies everywhere.

“Now, put on the mask. “

Sam takes a deep breath before letting it out. “He was…... .so pathetic. “Tara furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

Bailey shudders. “That’s not true. “

“Yeah, your son,” Sam continues in a small voice. “He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killings” Her words are like a knife to the heart to the detective.

“He was a strong, virile young man!”

Sam now fully faces him and looks him in the eyes. “He was a limp-dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat. '' Sam spits every word out like poison.

“Shut the fuck up!” Quinn screams and strikes, but is stopped by Tara as she swings her arm and punches Quinn in the face with the brick. You take a step back as she falls to the ground. You see Sam punching Bailey then go to Tara, trying to find a safer place. Ethan growls and runs at Kirby, who shot his father.

A minute later, you watch as Sam literally carves him up. Only, your psycho smile has fallen and your arm is limp at your side. Then, your eyes follow her and Tara as they crawl up onto the balcony. But they have to be careful as there are multiple things around so they have to go on the edge. All of a sudden, Tara slips and almost falls, but gets a grip on the railing. You gasp. Then you are snapped out of your dark and depressed thoughts by Bailey’s voice shouting. You huff and shake your head, a little dizzy. Hand once again gripping your knife as you approach your girlfriend hanging.

You stand there with a deep glare but also a big smile-that makes you look terrifying- which drops when you hear Ethan say. “I’ve always wanted to stick something in you, Tara!” Then as they are screaming and Sam is trying to help Tara up-Unsuccessfully- Quinn appears at the door of the balcony. She is smirking while looking at Sam. The next moment, Sam gives Tara something and she jumps, landing between you and Ethan.

Ethan’s knife is plugged into her belly as she lands and she screams, but then suddenly she wings her arm too and a knife is pushed inside Ethan’’s mouth.

Bailey is screaming at you, but you just stare at Tara as she smirks. “Now die a fucking virgin. “ Then pulls her knife out and blood splashes on her face. Tara gets up and turns to you. You take a deep breath.

Come on. This is what you signed up for.

She runs towards you and you duck as she tries to stab you. When you straighten up again, you smirk and run at her. She gasps and steps aside, but not enough so your knife purses into her right arm. Her glare hardens as she looks at you. Tara then runs and catches you off guard as she plugs her knife inside you. You groan and fall to your knees. She twists the knife and you let out a cry and drop your knife. Pulling out the knife and pushing it back in rapidly. When she finishes, she is crying, sobbing then her body collapses.

“Did you ever even love me?!” Tara yells as her bloody hands grip your robe. You choke on your blood and cough it up, a sudden tiredness washing over you.

“More than you could ever fucking imagine. “ You stutter before letting out your last breath and your body goes limp in Tara’S hands.

— —

Almost half an hour later, Tara and Sam are standing outside the theater, a bunch of ambulances and police cars surrounding them. Sam and Kirby are talking while Kirby is slowly taken into an ambulance when Tara lets out a sob and they look at her.

“Hey, what is it? “

“Why her? How ….how could she do this. “ She cries. “And-And why?!”

Sam gives her a sad look. “I don’t know. I……wish she’d talked to us more. Maybe then…we could’ve changed things” Kirby nods as her eyes soften while looking at the younger Carpenter.

Sam’s arms wrap around Tara as she sobs out “ I loved her so much.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #scream franchise #scream fanfic #scream vi #Spotify

387 notes · View notes

pictureinme · 7 months

Text

kinktober day xiv. SEX TAPE – edward 'riddler' nashton

word count: ~500 tags: dirty talk, live-stream, exhibitionism, blindfold/duct tape masterlist | ao3

You lay splayed against Edward’s bed– face down, ass up– with him relentlessly thrusting into you.

“Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you? Feel you all tight around my cock, look at that…”

He wasn’t talking to you persay, he was narrating for all the viewers at home. Edward had a semi-large following in Gotham due to… reasons you couldn’t exactly divulge to your friends. Donned in his green outfit, saran wrap and all, he was currently livestreaming to a steadily growing 250 of his followers his view. He was always the exhibitionist, but he mostly wanted to prove just how powerful he was.

He grabs you by the hair, showing his followers your blindfolded and duct-taped face– all for anonymity, of course, no other reason. Your muffled moans echoed throughout his apartment, and Edward laughed almost maniacally.

“You guys hear that at home? Such a fucking slut I have right here… getting off on all this.”

He forces your head to nod, not like you disagreed anyway. Keeping your head up, he moves the camera away to show as much of the scene as he can: your positioning, his outfit, and his foggy glasses. Your eyes roll back as Edward shoves your head back down into the sheets, the dominance he exudes in this persona is overpowering.

“Oh, baby, guess what? My followers love you,” he practically giggles, his thrusts speeding up. “Well, your cute little pussy, but isn’t that all you are for me anyways?”

You mewl at his words and how his hips stutter when he says them. Edward was beyond close, and you knew he was gonna come on you somewhere– he had to make a spectacle for his adoring fans, didn’t he?

“Knew you’d like that, God, fuck– keep squeezing on me like that, come all over my dick…”

He has you wrapped around his finger, and you feel that familiar unfurling as he commands you to. The duct tape comes partially undone from your mouth, allowing you to breathe freely.

“Fuck, Riddler!”

Edward shudders with a cracked moan as you utter his persona’s name when you come– it was like a dream come true. He quickly pulls out of you and jacks off quickly against your back.

“Gonna come all over you, make you mine–!”

You feel the ropes of his arousal hitting your back suddenly as he moans rather pathetically, the phone’s camera pointed at it the entire time. Edward breathes heavily as the last of his orgasm lands on you, the sight horribly erotic.

He pans the camera toward his masked face, glasses still fogged up, “Thank you all for watching, see you soon!”

Edward’s oddly cheery send-off has you giggling despite the duct tape barrier. You feel his hands begin to caress your behind– the Riddler no longer upfront.

“You okay, baby? Did I go too hard, or–”

Shaking your head, you rip off the duct tape harshly, trying not to wince, “It was… absolutely perfect, Eddie. Thank you.”

#edward nashton x reader #edward nashton smut #paul dano x reader #paul dano smut #kinktober 2023

329 notes · View notes

theragethatisdesire · 10 months

Text

much ado about nothing chapter 4 - plug!eren x reader, 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

hiiiii again!! here to update you on our lovely reader and her darling eren. now that they've finally done the deed, where does it leave them? will the one night only rule stand? time to learn a little more about our eren...i hope you guys love it so much, i had to play around a LOT with this one to get everything set up for the next chapter. pay attention because every detail counts!!

want to get caught up? series masterlist here :)

chapter-specific cws: alcohol, swearing, mentions of smut but no actual smut, crying in the club

“If it proves so, then loving goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.” Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 2)

“I was worried sick! Sick!” Historia cries as you enter your apartment, still wearing Eren’s obnoxious Grill Dad t-shirt. “You never texted me, never told me you were staying over, and…what is that shirt? Ew.”

“It’s what I woke up in. Tragic, I know.” Not a complete lie, if you ignore the part where Eren ripped it off of you immediately upon waking, pulling you into his lap to ride him for the umpteenth time.

“Woke up in? It’s four in the afternoon. Did you forget we have plans with Sasha?”

You nearly smack your forehead– you do have plans, it’s Saturday night, which means you're due at Scout’s. “Shit, yeah, I did forget.”

“Get ready then,” Historia gives you a knowing once-over, “you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Quit flirting with me.”

You drag your tired heap of a body into the shower, wanting nothing more than to lay in your bed for all eternity and kick your feet like a schoolgirl, thinking about last night. You and Eren had stayed up all night. Making burgers on the back porch in your matching t-shirts and underwear had turned into him bending you over the kitchen counter, grading your quizzes had turned into a competition of who could hold out the longest with the other’s head between their legs, the shower had turned into you on your knees, swallowing him down your sore throat. You had talked about everything and nothing until you passed out, wrapped in each other, and woke up only to do the same thing all over again.

Historia is absolutely correct. You do look like you’ve been hit by a truck, and you feel like it too. Your cunt throbs between your legs, fucked raw time and time again, and bruises litter your skin, from your hips to your arms to your collarbones, gifted to you by Eren’s mouth and hands. Your fingers trace absentmindedly along a particularly nasty one on your shoulder, and you shudder.

The hot water feels godsent against your skin until you hear the door creak open. You roll your eyes, brace yourself for the interrogation.

“So?” Historia calls over the water.

“So?”

“Don’t be stupid. How was it?”

“Can it wait for Scout’s? I’m going to have to say it all over again to Sasha, anyway.” You’re playing coy; really, you could talk about your night for hours. How he held you, how all the rumors were true, how cute he looked grilling for you. Hours.

“Fine,” Historia sighs dramatically, “most of it can. At least tell me if the rumors are true or not. I’ve literally been dying to know, and Ymir won’t hypothesize with me.”

You poke your head out through the curtain, grinning like a maniac. “It’s huge.”

“Like, objectively huge?”

“Like, bigger-than-I’ve-ever-seen-outside-of-porn huge.”

“So it was good?” Historia returns your half-crazed smile, only making your own grow.

“So good.”

“Aaah!” Historia squeals, reaching through the curtain to grab your hand excitedly. “I literally have to hear everything. Every. Single. Thing. Hurry up and get ready, Sasha’s off at 5:30.”

You do hurry, flying out the door with wet hair, nothing more than a tinted moisturizer on your face and Historia on your arm, skipping and giggling the whole way to Scout’s like schoolgirls. Sasha greets you with stale peanuts and a round of drinks, something fruity and horrible like most of Sasha’s choices, but you’re too excited to comment on it, settling on your stool with a long sip. Just as you’re about to bring up your night, the details fizzing on your tongue like sweet champagne, Sasha leans over Historia to grin at you.

“Guess who got laid last night?” Sasha crows, pointing her fingers at herself. Historia and you both glance at each other, frowning in confusion.

“Wait, what? Who did you hook up with?” Historia tilts her head.

Sasha bites her lips and wiggles her eyebrows. “Hitch. Didn’t you two meet her at Eren’s? She’s like, so gorgeous.”

“What?” You and Historia shriek simultaneously, drinks forgotten.

“You didn’t even tell us–”

“When did you get her number–”

“She’s a lesb–”

“Okay, okay, chill,” Sasha laughs, holding her hands out in front of her, “I got her number the other day from Connie, and yes, she’s bi. Huge win for the gays, if you ask me.”

“Is it anything? Or just, like, a one-night stand?” You venture, voicing your own concern without realizing it. Sasha swats her hand through the air.

“One night for sure,” she says, “you know me, I’m like a tumbleweed. Just blowing on through, and onto the next.”

You visibly flinch. Just blowing on through, and onto the next. That was what you were doing, right? And Eren, too. You slurp the rest of your fruity drink down, flagging Levi over for a beer more to your taste. Historia’s got a pair of pitying eyes trained on you– fuck, it’s annoying how she can practically read your mind– but you don’t care. Drowning your sorrows before they can begin is a perfectly acceptable option in your mind.

“Um…I know someone else that got laid last night,” Historia ventures, smiling encouragingly at you.

“Finally!” Sasha pumps her fist obnoxiously. “Eren?”

Your face warms. “Yeah.”

“How was it?” Sasha’s practically squealing, ignoring the side eye that the Captain shoots her. “Is it really that big?”

“Um,” you hesitate, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Yes,” Historia’s eyes sparkle, “tell her!”

“Well,” your smile grows a little with her encouragement, “the rumors are true. It’s huge, and he was like–”

“I knew it!” Sasha jeers. Levi walks over, shooting her a glare.

“Be quiet,” you push her lightly, “I was saying, he was like, the best fuck I’ve ever had, hands down. I mean, literally all night and all morning. Oh, and it was so embarrassing, when he was cooking breakfast–”

Sasha interrupts you with a frown. “Breakfast? You slept over?”

You return her knitted-brow expression. “Well, yeah. Is something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just weird,” Sasha mulls her words over before spilling, “Hitch and I got to gossiping, and he just…well, I don’t want to kill your vibe, but from everything Hitch said, he seems like a one-and-done kind of guy.”

“It’s still just a one night stand. I don’t think it matters all that much that I slept over.” You shrug, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach. That was what you had agreed upon with yourself, one and done, and it should be music to your ears that Eren’s to eventually fade out of your life now that you’ve gotten the sex out of the way, but it’s just not relieving you like it should.

“And he made you breakfast?”

“Well, he tried. We sort of got…occupied and burnt everything,” you flush, “but he did make some kickass burgers the night before, so no harm no foul.”

Sasha and Historia exchange a look, one you don’t understand, and one you’re not sure you want to pick apart.

“I mean, knowing Eren, that’s crazy. When he was hooking up with Amy back in the day, he would like, summon her in the middle of the night and call her Uber home before she could even get her panties back on,” Sasha laughs to herself, seemingly unaware of the stunned expression all over your face.

You know his history, and yet it still surprises you that the Eren with the silly t-shirts, the Eren that had insisted on grading your students’ quizzes with a pink glitter pen, the Eren that had debated anime lore with you until the wee hours of the morning was the same Eren that Sasha was describing.

“To be fair, he’s only like that because of Breeze,” Historia points out, “he’s not a total asshole.”

“Breeze?” You ran through the mental list of people you knew that were associated with Eren, but you had never heard a Breeze in the mix. You hated her name already, so manic-pixie-dream-girl that your brain was already doing you the favor of painting a picture of her. Beautiful, artsy, effortlessly cool. Blech.

“His ex,” Sasha explains, “apparently he was so in love with her back in college, like beyond in love, buy-a-ring kind of in love.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “what does that have to do with anything?”

Sasha raises her eyebrows as if it should have been obvious. “Breeze dumping him is what started his whole ‘womanizer’ thing. Apparently she really did a number on him. Like, that’s why he pumps and dumps like crazy. If I had a dollar for every girl I’ve heard of that cried over Eren, I could afford to tip Levi until he actually liked me.”

What the hell? You can feel your face contort in annoyance, trying to mask the way the idea of Eren just adding you to the notches in his bedpost hurts something small and already wounded deep in your chest, but Historia beats you to the chase.

“Don’t say it like that,” Historia nudges Sasha meaningfully, “you’re going to ruin it for her.”

“I’m not, if you would let me finish. Hitch just told me not to let you get your feelings hurt when he kicked you out, but I guess we don’t have to worry about that. You must have something magic in between your legs.” Sasha pinches your thigh with a crude smile. You swat her away, irritated.

“How would Hitch even know–”

“Okay, be serious here,” Historia cuts you off with an eye roll, “you two were all over each other when we went to Armin’s little pregame. Anyone with eyes would know you two were going to fuck each other silly at some point.”

“It’s not like we went out to a candlelit dinner or anything,” you scoff, “it was literally just sex.”

Sasha offers you a sheepish half-smile. “No, I know I just…I told her about your history with that kind of stuff. She was worried.”

“God, Sasha, why would you do that?” You rub your hands over your face miserably. “That’s so embarrassing. What if she tells Eren and he thinks I’m going to, like, fall all over myself just because we hooked up?”

“It just came up!”

“No point in denying it, especially not after Luke.” Historia looks at you pointedly, knowing the weight that that particular name held. You sort of want to smack her, but you haven’t heard his name in so long that you’re frozen. “But it sounds like it was fun, I think you needed it. A little TLC, if you will.”

Your heart thuds in a way it hasn’t in months, in a way it shouldn’t. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. It was late, it was just easier to fall asleep there, it wasn’t some fucking rom-com.”

“Mhm,” Historia eyes you, sipping her drink. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious. I was dead after everything was said and done. I didn’t even realize I was asleep until I woke up.” Again, not a complete lie. Not exactly, at least. You decide to omit that Eren had brushed your hair softly with his fingers, pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, whispered a goodnight against your skin, woken you up with his head between your legs and his fingers threaded through yours. Those moments feel better nestled in your consciousness, just for you.

“What, did he wear you out?” Sasha smiles evilly at you. The excitement crops back up in your chest– you realize you haven’t even gotten into half of the antics of the night before.

“Honestly, it was so good that I–” you’re cut off by a familiar weight slinging around your shoulders. Shit.

“Talking about my burgers, right?” Eren’s materialized out of nowhere, smirking at you. Your face burns bright red.

Historia grins wickedly. “Yeah, she was telling us all about your burgers.”

“Stor!” You smack at her, embarrassed.

Eren ignores your chagrin, studying you until a little smile curls his mouth. “You look pretty.”

It’s simple, but it makes your stomach do a backflip. You need to get away from him, get away from what he’s already doing to you, but to your own disappointment, you know you’ll sit firmly on this barstool as long as he stands beside you. “I literally got out of the shower and came straight here.”

“So?” Eren smiles wider, thumbing at your lip. “Pretty.”

“What are you even doing here? Stalking me now?”

“Of course,” Eren shrugs, reaching over the bar to grab his beer from Levi’s ice well, a habit you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, “didn’t get a chance to murder you last night, so I’m here to finish the job.”

You’re confused until Historia pipes up. “Not funny, Jaeger. She wasn’t answering her phone!”

Eren scoffs. “Texting someone to ask if they’ve murdered your friend isn’t really a great game plan if you think she’s getting stabbed to death.”

“You did what?” You turn on your friend, eyes blazing.

“I was just checking,” Historia shrugs, unbothered, “he could be some psycho.”

“He’s not some psycho,” you roll your eyes at her, “haven’t you known each other for like, five years?”

“Are you sure?” Eren leans in, voice low and hot against the shell of your ear just like it had been last night as he pounded into you. The memory makes your chest tighten. “Might do all sorts of awful things to you if you’re not careful.”

“Don’t be a menace,” you muster up enough composure to shove him back away from your face, laughing lightly as if he hadn’t just made you weak in the knees.

“Can’t promise anything,” Eren chuckles, sipping his beer, “Armin and Connie will be here any minute, so it’ll go one of two ways. Either I’m babysitting Connie, or I’m going to make an ass of myself. Guess we’re rolling the dice.”

“You’re not working tonight?”

“Sort of,” Eren shrugs, “just a couple guys coming in, so I actually might have fun for once.”

“For once,” you repeat, letting a wicked smile tug at your lips. “Didn’t have fun last night?”

“I think you know exactly how much fun I had last night,” Eren digs his thumb into the bruise at the junction of your neck and shoulder, like he’d memorized exactly where he’d marked you. God knows he had seen you naked enough times to have the opportunity.

“A-Armin!” You choke out a greeting, relieved to see your mutual friend approaching before you completely lose the remaining self-control you have and tackle Eren in the middle of the bar. “Hi! It’s good to see you.”

“What’s it been, six hours now?” Armin smirks at you knowingly. You nearly cover your face in shame. Eren has an open-door policy with his closest friends, something you discovered this morning when Armin had strolled into the kitchen to find you sitting on the kitchen counter in nothing but a t-shirt and your panties, Eren between your legs and kissing you passionately amidst the smell of burning toast.

“She slept over?” Connie’s approached now, eyebrows raised as if Armin had just suggested that you’d run a marathon this morning. Maybe Sasha’s tidbit of gossip did hold some weight. Something flutters in your stomach, something you need to drown with a long swig of beer. “What, did you buy her flowers, too?”

“Mind your fucking business, dude,” Eren spits at him, unusually terse.

“Minding my business,” Connie holds his hands up defensively, eyes wide.

“Are you always this crabby, or are you just on your period?” you ask Eren, smiling up at him good-naturedly.

“Just don’t want them giving you any shit,” Eren shrugs, points at Historia and Sasha, “you’ve got these two for that.”

“They’ve been working overtime, trust me.” You narrow your eyes at Historia and Sasha, who widen their eyes innocently. Eren’s phone buzzes on the counter; he scowls when he checks it.

“Yo, get a load of this asshole,” he calls to Armin, “not walking with that much on me. Come to the Kappa house. What does this guy think I am, fucking UberEats?”

“He buys a lot, though,” Armin says thoughtfully, pausing in his conversation with Sasha to amble over and take a closer look at Eren’s phone.

“Yeah bro, I wouldn’t be saying ‘no’ to the dude dropping $1,500 every two weeks,” Connie agrees, nodding behind his beer. Eren groans.

“You think I should go?”

“Probably,” Armin smiles regretfully, patting Eren’s back, “but it’s around the corner, won’t even take you ten minutes.”

“I’ll come with you, if you want,” Connie says, noticing that Levi’s pointedly ignoring his efforts to order a drink.

Eren glares at Armin, slides his gaze over to you. “I’m sorry this keeps happening, do you mind? I’ll be back in five.”

“Don’t stress on my account,” you laugh, “get to work, you.”

“Five minutes,” Eren promises, abandoning his drink and heading for the door, muttering and swearing under his breath. That leaves you with Armin, who you can’t help but feel guilty around after the incident earlier today.

“So,” you let a deep breath fill your lungs, looking at Armin sheepishly, “I’m sorry about this morning. Obviously we weren’t expecting company.”

Armin waves you off, chuckling. “Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t be the first time me or Eren walked in on each other in a compromising position.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

“My lips are sealed,” Armin mimes locking his mouth with a key, “although…”

“What?”

“I can’t say I’ve walked in on anything quite so…domestic recently,” he grins. You frown, wishing more than anything that everyone would stop playing into this idea that you and Eren had a “thing” going on. Sure, he gave you butterflies and cooked you breakfast and all of the shit that people that had a “thing” together did, but it’s been one night, and you know you need to hold your horses before you drop your glass heart all over the sidewalk again.

“I wasn’t aware that one night stands were so serious these days,” you grumble into your beer. Armin laughs again, rubbing your shoulder.

“I’m just teasing you. Eren’s just…not the type to do breakfast in the morning, so you must be something special.”

You’re only capable of a wavering smile in return, already feeling the raw plucking of your overactive heartstrings in your chest. You knew this would happen if you took a chance on him, knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t help yourself, and now it’s biting you in the ass.

With your mind wandering into a terribly nostalgic state, you have half a mind to up and leave, especially when Armin wanders back over to Sasha to continue whatever fervent conversation they were having about Game of Thrones. Historia bringing Luke up sure didn’t help to quell the horrible twisting in your stomach; even hearing his name makes the hair on your arms stand up. You can feel the ghost of a shark tooth necklace dangling over you, digging into the back of your head as a pair of arms wrap around you. A booming laugh, sky-blue eyes…

Historia seems to be able to gather as much based on the look on your face, leaning over and placing a sympathetic hand on your arm.

“Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have brought Luke up.” Your words lack the venom you want to unleash, sagging under the weight of your heavy heart. Historia nods understandingly.

“I know. It was so long ago, I didn’t know if it was still bugging you.”

“It’s not bugging me, I just wish that he…” you rub at your eyes, not even entirely sure of what you wish of him. Your admission comes out quiet, wounded. “I wish it had never happened.”

“But that’s why you need to move on,” Historia insists, rubbing your shoulder, “to get over someone, you have to get under someone else. That’s like, the rule of breakups.”

“It wasn’t a breakup, we weren’t even dating.” You feel guilty, in a way, for dragging down the mood. You’d run in here, all sunshine and aching legs, ready for a fun night of recounting every nasty detail of your time with Eren, and you hate how just the thought of Luke can pull you right back between your own bedsheets, curled around a carton of ice cream and surrounded by used tissues.

“Hey,” Historia lowers her voice, “just because he was too stupid to throw a label on it doesn’t mean it wasn’t real, okay?”

“It’s ridiculous that I’m still this hung up on him, though. Like, it’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic, but you’re not giving yourself a chance. You had your little fling with Floch—which again, yuck—and now you need to start opening your heart instead of your legs.”

“Poetic, Stor.”

“You’re not the only one who has a way with words,” Historia grins proudly.

“I just don’t even know where to start,” you admit, feeling a dangerous pressure behind your eyes. Fuck, you aren’t doing this, are you? Crying in Scouts over a guy that hasn’t even spoken to you in six months?

“Eren might be a good place to–”

“No,” you snap, “don’t even start with that, okay? Eren and I just met, and it was a one night thing anyway. Besides, it’s…it’s too soon. I’m just not ready to date again.”

“You are,” Historia insists, “you just don’t want to let go of him yet.”

Jesus, you are doing this. You go to respond and cut yourself off with a sniffle, wiping desperately underneath your eyes to mediate the salty tears threatening to slide down your cheeks.

The master of perfect timing today, Eren appears in the doorway, searching the room and locking his eyes on you. You can see the different emotions flicker across his face: happy to confused to concerned. Damn it. You duck behind Historia, grabbing her purse out of her lap and digging around for tissues.

“What happened?” Eren’s behind you, rubbing a large hand between your shoulder blades. You want to bolt for the bathroom and come back out refreshed as if nothing ever happened, but something tells you Eren won’t be so easily shaken off.

“Eren,” Historia sighs, snatching her purse back from you and finding a pack of tissues quickly, handing you one, “I don’t think this is the best time–”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing,” you dab at your tears, “Historia was just telling me about her…her dead grandma, and I got a little emotional, that’s all.”

Eren cocks an eyebrow at Historia, who’s glaring at you. “Dead grandma, huh?”

“They were very close,” Historia lies effortlessly, giving you a sharp pinch of punishment on your thigh.

“I’m buying a round,” Connie nods determinedly, flagging down Levi, much to the barkeep’s dismay, “no crying over dead grandmas tonight. We’re having fun, damn it.”

Historia pales. “I don’t know if that’s–”

“Tequila,” you cut her off, “thanks.”

Connie nods at you, so unusually solemn that you almost feel bad for your little white lie. “When my grandma died, I was a wreck. I’ve got you.”

“Nana’s not even dead!” Historia whispers urgently in your ear, still shooting daggers at you.

“I panicked!” You whisper-shout back, eyes wide. Historia rolls her eyes and grumbles something, but nods along.

“Tequila again?” Eren makes a face, slipping his arm around your waist– fuck, you really wish he’d stop touching you so casually, as if it wasn’t enough to spark a fire in your core– and reaching over the bar for a new beer.

“Well…grandmas are a very sensitive topic for me, so yes, tequila.” You can’t hide the snark in your voice, but you’re not sure where it’s coming from. Eren frowns, removes his arm from you.

“I was just worried, sorry if I overstepped.”

You throw your shot back, shaking your head at the taste. Your hands scramble around for the lime that you set on the bar, Eren chuckling beside you despite himself. Once you’ve collected yourself, feeling the haze of the liquor hit you like a truck, you face him.

“You didn’t overstep,” you sigh, “I just…you know when a bad memory pops up in your mind, and you can’t really get it out, and then all your feelings just start coming out and you can’t– okay, I sound crazy, but I swear I’m not. Maybe it’s just like, a girl thing or something.”

To your surprise, Eren doesn’t look absolutely horrified at your haywire emotions. He only nods, looking at you thoughtfully. It occurs to you that he’s beginning to realize that you are not, in fact, crying over Historia’s very-much-alive grandmother.

“Actually, yeah, I do understand. It’s the worst.” Something about the earnest tone in his voice soothes you, makes you drop your shoulders from where they’re hunched and tense. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Positive. Can we just pretend that I’m not crying at the bar for no reason like a crazy person?”

Eren laughs and nods, mercifully deciding not to press you any further, redirecting your attention to where Connie and Sasha are now pelting each other with peanuts. The night ambles on, jokes are exchanged, more shots are taken, and before you know it, it’s reached near eleven. You check your watch and groan; in a little more than seven hours, you’ll be waking up at what’s seemingly the ass-crack of dawn to make a fresh weekly syllabus for the rising English experts of America. A hefty sigh leaves you as you set your phone down, recline back into Eren’s chest where he’s got both arms tossed around your shoulders.

“What is it?” Eren murmurs, nibbling on your ear. You swallow the swell of arousal rising in your throat; that little voice in the back of your head reminding you of your just one night! rule grows quieter.

“I need to wake up early,” you admit, playing with his fingers, “need to leave.”

“We can leave,” Eren doesn’t move from his position, placing a kiss behind your ear that sends goosebumps running up and down your arms, “‘m ready if you are.”

“Leave alone,” you chuckle, finally breaking free of his grip to spin on your barstool and face him. He’s pouting, a little furrow between his brows and a sad glint to his eyes. You have to consciously stop yourself from pulling his face down to yours, pressing your lips to his.

“Alone?”

“I have work to do in the morning.” You’re nervously chewing on your bottom lip, showing your own dishonesty. In truth, you don’t care what time you have to limp over to the library, but you fucked him just last night. And this morning. And over lunch this afternoon. Are you really so insatiable that you can’t follow your one-night-only rule, have to break your fast this soon?

“Even better,” Eren grins, “wasn’t I helpful last night?”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “not exactly.”

“Guess you’ll have to teach me, then.”

“I…” you trail off, how can you even begin to say “no” to a guy this gorgeous?

“You?” Eren cocks an eyebrow.

“I’m not really looking for anything right now.” Blue eyes. Red lips. The shark tooth necklace. It’s a bad response, too vague and too assuming, but it’s all you can come up with.

“Me neither,” Eren shrugs, something unreadable flickering over his features, “but we have fun together. Doesn’t have to be anything serious.”

"I'm not saying it does," god, you are so bad at this, "casual hookups just aren't the best thing for me."

"If we're going to stick a label on it," Eren muses, swirling the beer in his bottle around, "why not friends? With some...benefits?"

"Are we friends?"

"Are we not?"

You’re about to offer another feeble excuse, ignoring the way your heart cracks a little in your chest, when Eren’s phone buzzes on the bar. His eyes flit over to it, and something strange happens. Eren’s cool confidence slides right off of him, a look of…what? Bewilderment? Panic? Something comes across his face, something shaking and fragile and hurt. He snatches his phone off of the bar, angling it so you can’t see, staring at it intently.

“Eren?” you venture, raising a hand to grab his arm in concern, but thinking better of it, and shrinking away. “You okay?”

Eren blinks at you, like he can’t quite remember who you are. “What?”

“Are you okay? You seem…shaken.”

“Yeah, m’fine,” he shrugs you off, pain glittering behind his eyes.

“But you–”

“Said I’m fine.” Eren’s voice is harsh, close to a bark. You visibly flinch, a frown contorting your face. You don’t know him well, but even you can tell that this isn’t like him.

“Okay,” you say, quiet and wounded. An awkward silence settles between you both; you need to leave, but you’re unsure of how to make your move after that. It doesn’t necessarily seem like he wants your company anymore, but the idea of leaving him there so upset isn’t appealing either.

“You ready?” Historia’s voice, dripping with drunkenness, floats over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, waiting for something, anything that might betray what’s going on in his head. Eren’s still staring at his phone, but when you voice your approval to Historia, he turns.

“Leaving?”

“Guess so.” You throw a thumb over your shoulder to where Sasha’s practically falling out of her barstool, demanding a piggy-back ride home from Connie. Eren sighs, something weighted and hefty.

“Sorry I’m being weird, it’s just–”

“We don’t need to talk about it. I get it.” You force a smile onto your face. Maybe you won’t be sleeping with Eren anytime soon, but against all odds, you already care about him, that damned too-big heart of yours thumping sadly in your chest at the defeated expression on his face.

“C’mere.” Eren tugs you to him, hugging you tighter than he ever has. You feel his lips crushing into the part in your hair, as if you’re something precious to him, something valuable. It makes your knees weak, makes alarm bells ring in your head. “I’ll tell you someday, alright? Just…not now.”

You nod against his chest, a watery, wet feeling gathering behind your ribs. “Okay. Only if you want to.”

When Eren pulls out of the embrace, he’s smiling again, light and breezy as if nothing had happened. “You strike me as a good listener.”

“Guilty as charged.”

"See?" Eren offers a small smile. "Friends."

You're so relieved to see that little smile grace his features that you can't argue the point with him any further. You smile back. "Friends."

“Get home safe, okay?”

"I always do. Stop worrying so much," you swipe playfully at his shoulder. It’s been a dizzying night, but the unwavering stability that Eren’s presence offers still grounds you, eases the butterflies in your stomach.

“Never.” Eren waves you off with a wink, and you collect your friends, heading for the exit. When you toss one last look over your shoulder, expecting to meet his playful gaze, you only find Eren frowning at his phone screen, peeling the label off of his beer bottle. Friends.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger series #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk series #aot series #aot fanfic #eren jaeger fanfic #eren jaeger fanfiction #much ado about nothing

220 notes · View notes

gamie99 · 3 months

Text

The toilets are the funniest little expressive bastards and I love em for it

This entire sequence is fucking hysterical to me. DJ Toilet's confident and cocky (and very surprising!) return as he faces down the Titans, followed immediately by his overwhelming distress at the realization that he and his new kickass setup are going to get ripped apart. I honestly felt so bad for him here LMFAOO

AND THEN THE POOR DUDE IS JUST SCREAMING UP THERE BEFORE HE'S YEETED 5 MILES AWAY BY THE ASTRO TOILET. I'M DEAD AAKSJBGDKFKFDHGJDKF

Meanwhile, our new Astro friend here is expressive in a totally different sense. Unlike the vast majority of toilets, who are loud feral maniacs with crazed smiles warped to G-Mod levels of insanity, this new guy is serious, quiet, and most importantly, calm. Like, freakishly calm. He has the most normal human-like facial expressions I've ever seen plastered onto a Skibidi. And he keeps these normal-looking human expressions the entire time he's facing off against the Titans.

Even his creepy "bye fuckers >;)" smile, which is the most Skibidi-looking he's been this episode, pales in comparison to the average sadistic grin you see on your everyday toilet.

In conclusion: the toilets are both hilarious and creepy and DaFuq is scarily good at animating facial expressions. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

#skibidi toilet

71 notes · View notes

criticallyacclaimedstranger · 6 months

Text

Into It [werewolf!Frankie x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet f!reader)

Warnings: Frankie is a werewolf (but not really), corn maze, jump scares, Benny is a clown in more ways than one (and a bit of an arse tbh), public sex, unprotected piv sex, Frankie has a knot on his dick and believe you me it goes inside you, you like it rough, dirty talk, a bit of praise (him to her), creampie, implied cum eating and cunnilingus.

Summary: You are lost in a corn maze where ghosts and ghouls roam, and you are being chased by a werewolf named Frankie...

Words: 3,489

The moon hangs low and when a few clouds obscure it, your eyes strain to see the path before you. The wind sweeps through the corn stalks, and the hushed rustling of the leaves makes the small hairs at the back of your neck stand. It's so quiet, apart from that faint sound, but you know that you're not alone, you've seen the glowing eyes and dark shapes, heard the quick footsteps disappear around a corner.

Getting into this corn maze was a bad idea, you knew it from the start. What harm would it do, you had thought. All the harm, you now realize. You could die here. You could get jumped, you could...

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when a caped figure appears before you and stares at you through the dark, before dismissing you and slipping away in another direction. Your red cape isn't warm enough, and you suddenly feel chilled to the bone. You want to go home, away from all this danger, get warm and comfortable and not lost in a goddamn corn maze, like you are now. Screams behind you put you on edge, and two witches run past, cackling like maniacs. Witches are nothing to be afraid of: you know there are worse things in here. You follow the witches, but by the time you turn the same corner, they're already gone. More screaming is heard in the distance, chilling screams of fear. You walk faster, almost start jogging, turning a corner and finding it a dead end. A howl close by sends chills down your spine.

Huge, clawed paws land on your waist, a low growl reverberates into your core. You yelp as you get pulled against the wide frame of a werewolf.

"Roarr, I'm going to eat you!"

You break into relieved laughter. "Dammit Frankie!"

Turning around, you see the werewolf with its latex sneer take off its head, revealing a cheekily smiling Frankie with tousled hair underneath.

"Did I scare you?"

"No, but those plastic claws are going to rip my dress!"

He wraps one arm around you, the dark grey fur of his wolf costume warming you immediately.

"Oh, this dress is going to be ripped tonight..."

Unabashedly, he gazes into your cleavage as his paw slides down to your ass. You roll your eyes.

"Slutty Little Red Riding Hood, how tacky isn't that?"

"Terrible tacky," Frankie replies in a way that tells you in no uncertain terms that he is incredibly happy with your mini dress with plunging neckline and short, ruffled skirt. The bodice, laced tightly to push your tits up even more, and thigh high stockings crown your outfit, and Frankie couldn't be happier.

"It's a good thing I'm in this lumpy costume," he murmurs against your cheek. "I'm so hard right now, if anyone saw, they'd think I was a perv."

"You are a perv," you tease him, "but you're my perv."

"Excuse me, Miss Hood," he rumbles, now nipping at your earlobe. "I seem to remember that the conversation about our plans for tonight went in a way that actually points you out as the perv."

You just scoff, then turn your head to allow him access to your neck. He scatters little kisses and love bites all over your skin, pausing only to grunt and curse when you find his stiff shaft and rub it through the tight front of his jeans.

"Little girl," he hisses, "Let's go find grandma's house."

"You don't want me to suck your big bad cock right here...?" you suggest leerily, and Frankie exhales in a hushed Fuck.

"We'll be seen."

"We could find a dark corner."

"Jesus..." His paw caresses the roundness of your buttock, coming to a rest just where you ass meets your thighs, pushing you into him.

"We don't have to - " you start, sensing his hesitation. Frankie may be a beast in bed, but that's in the comfort and privacy of your own home. Laughing and screaming in the distance underscores how public this place is.

"Let's do it," he rules, and you both turn around to try and find a secluded enough spot.

A wild-eyed Pennywise jumps out right in front of you, screeching in a way that shouldn't be humanly possible. You scream, startled and scared at the sudden attack, your blood going ice cold for a moment, panic rising when the clown grabs your arm.

"Knock it the fuck off, Benjamin!"

Frankie shoves the clown away, and it starts to laugh.

"Oh my God, your face!"

You're still shaking, but fear is slowly being replaced by rage.

"Benny, you asshole! You know I hate jump scares and clowns!"

"That's why it worked so well!"

"Not cool," Frankie growls, pulling you into him as if to protect you. "Let's go, baby."

"I'm sorry!" Benny shouts after you when you walk away. Your legs are a little wobbly, but Frankie's warm, secure presence makes you feel better.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just got startled," you reassure him. "It's fine."

"I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. He's too drunk right now."

"You really don't need to, let's just forget about it."

A few monsters and ghouls run past, but now it all feels like adults in costumes to you. A shudder runs through you, and Frankie stops to kiss your head.

"You wanna just get out of this maze, have a mug of hot cider, and then leave?" he suggests. Truth be told, that's an attractive suggestion. You don't feel like blowing him in public anymore.

"That sounds perfect."

Frankie, with his military training, seems to have a mental map of the maze, because he leads you with confidence out of the maze like he's walked it a hundred times before. Just as you exit, you pass by Santi who looks like an East European nobleman, his fake vampire teeth grazing the neck of a young brunette dressed as a slutty Harry Potter character.

The cider warms you up and calms your nerves, and by the time you've finished your mug, you're feeling up for erotic adventures again.

"Can we leave?" you ask Frankie as soon as the mug is empty.

"Home?"

"To our spot."

"Oh. You still wanna - "

"I do."

His velvety gaze rests heavily on your skin when he leads you to his truck.

"Our spot" is outside of town. Off the highway, along a smaller country road, then off on a narrow dirt road with grass growing between the tire tracks. There are fields all around, and smack in the middle of them is a small hill with a huge, old oak. A distant cousin of Frankie’s owns the surrounding fields, and they don't mind you using the land. You and Frankie often come here in the summer when the oak provides shelter from the sun. You've been here in the fall, too, stargazing from the bed of Frankie's truck.

And now you're here to fulfill a fantasy.

Frankie has prepared the truck with blankets and pillows, and even a small string of fairy lights. He's still in his werewolf costume, the paws and head are off, but his torso is still covered by fake fur and a half-torn plaid. As he rolls out the bedding, you walk to the oak to find the carving he put in its bark the first time you came here. You find it immediately, having seen it countless times before. Your initials inside a heart, simple and sappy. You trace the letters with your index finger, and you hear a low growl behind you, so you turn around.

Werewolf Frankie is standing by the truck, eyes fixed on you. Your heart skips a beat when he crouches a little and starts towards you.

"No," you whisper, moving around the trunk of the tree, trying to keep it between the two of you. Frankie, however, is quicker on his feet, and with just a few long leaps, he reaches you and has you caged against the tree.

"Smells good," he grunts, catching your wrists and trapping them against the bark above your head. "Pretty and sweet..."

He nuzzles your neck, the latex nose cold on your skin in the October night air.

"Please," you breathe, and his large paw runs down your leg and settles over your sex. You buck against him, making him chuckle.

"Needy, pretty thing..." His voice, muffled by the mask, has dropped one octave and is delightfully raspy.

He pushes up against you, letting you feel his hardening cock. Your arousal bleeds into your panties and the chilly air immediately chills the wet fabric, but your insides are on fire. You whimper, struggling while also rolling your hips against his, seeking that stiff outline of his cock in his pants.

"You want that, don't you?"

The sound you produce is pitiful and Frankie's low chuckle turns you on even more.

"You'll have it."

He drags you with him to the truck, maneuvering you roughly, yet not without care, to a bent over position.

"Spread your legs."

The cool night air feels even colder on the wet insides of your thighs, and a shiver runs through you when Frankie grinds his erection against your clothed core. The plastic claws aren't sharp, but they still make you hiss when he draws them down your thighs. His denim-clad leg touches your bare one when he kneels between your spread legs, and then his growling wolf face pushes against your pussy. He draws in your scent in loud sniffs, and you moan at how the teeth-baring mouth of the mask feels against you. Shamelessly, you push back, wishing the mask came with a live tongue as well.

Frankie sinks the claws into the flesh of your thighs and rumbles low as he rubs the mask against you. The friction is delectable, and you keen loudly, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, hands fisting into the blanket in front of you. You start to push back, move your hips like when you're riding his face, and that's what you're doing now, too: you're riding his face, the wolf face that he put on for you when you suggested that you'd go to the Halloween event as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, and that he'd ravage you in the back of his truck later. He was game: Frankie was always game for whatever you suggested, even if he was against the more violent expressions of your suggested roleplay, like hunting you down and fucking you on the ground while you screamed for help. Truth be told, after the stunt Benny pulled in the corn maze, this is exactly the right amount of excitement you need. And this mask, with its wrinkled nose and bared teeth, is doing wonders for you pussy, but it's not going to be able to make you cum. For that, you need more direct stimulation.

"Frankie," you keen, "I need more, please, I can't stand it!"

Frankie stops, goddamn him, he stops. You moan out a protest and Frankie snarls at you. He shoves up your skirt, grabs your panties, and tears them off you. The fabric rips and he shoves you forward.

"Get up."

You crawl onto the bed of the truck, shivering with your ass bare in the evening air. The suspension dips momentarily when Frankie gets up behind you, pawing your ass and tracing a claw between the cheeks down to your dripping core. You push back a little, swallowing when you hear him chuckle.

"So eager... so wet... You need a big, stiff dick to fill you up, don't you?"

"Yes," you manage to answer, head light with anticipation. "I need it, please give it to me."

The belt buckle rattles, then the fly zips open. He lets out a low rumble of relief and take a moment to get himself ready. You know what he's doing: he's putting on the sleeve, that latex thing you ordered online and almost shyly presented to him. The werewolf sleeve with a knot at the root, so insignificant when you measure and tried to imagine it before ordering, so huge when you saw it in person and realized that it was supposed to go inside you. Frankie had been skeptical - he was big enough on his own - but he was also curious, and he loved the fire he saw in you when you suggested that he'd fuck you like an animal. That you wanted to try to take the knot.

You're practically drooling now, knowing that you'll get it soon.

Frankie's paw in between your shoulder blades, and he pushes your chest down onto the bedding. His cock drags between your swollen lips, bumping into your clit before the head slips in, teasing you with the promise - or threat - of how well he could fill you, but doesn't just yet. You exhale in a whine, and Frankie replies with a similar, albeit lower moan, before sliding in, all the way up to the knot.

"Fuck," you keen into the blanket that your face is resting against, "fuck, that's good, that feels so good..."

He pulls out slowly and slams into you anew, drawing a shout from you. He then repositions himself, comes off his knees and onto his feet with bent knees into bulldog, and starts to batter you with his stiff cock. Hands on your upper back, he's pressing you down into the blankets, and you bite into the fabric to keep from getting too loud as he thrusts hard into you, again and again. The truck bed creaks and rocks, your bodies make the music of lewd, wet slapping as he assaults your pussy, and you grip the blanket until your knuckles are white.

"So wet and tight," Frankie pants above you, his furry werewolf torso plastered over your back as he rails you mercilessly. "So desperate for my fat cock, you wanted it so badly, didn't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, each thrust into your core stealing away a little bit of your breath and brain. Your chin feels cold, and you realize that you're drooling, but you don't care if you look like a cock-hungry slut because that's what you are and you're loving it.

The knot keeps jamming against your slick opening, but Frankie doesn't seem willing to try to cram it in just yet. Your legs are shaking and giving way underneath you, and you almost slide down onto your stomach, but Frankie pulls you back up.

"Stay on your knees!" he snarls. "Don't you dare lie down!"

You gasp something to let him know you're listening, you're compliant, you'll do anything he tells you to. The plastic claws scratch your thigh, and you brace yourself on the soft warm blankets underneath you to stay on your hands and knees.

"Good girl..."

He moves in you just right, he knows what you want and need, and he's giving it to you.

"I'm a good girl," you keen, and his big paw strokes your back. Your pussy clenches, slick and heat pooling as your body sets into a higher gear.

"You are such a good girl," he confirms, breathless voice muffled behind the mask. "So good for me, taking my big cock like this..."

The praise zaps out your brain, and you start to push back on his thrusts.

"Harder, fuck me harder, I wanna cum!"

He knows just what you do, and when you're wailing out your orgasm, arms and legs shaking, he pushes you down on your stomach, ass still up.

"The knot, the knot, gimme the knot!"

The pressure is nothing like you expected: sharp and agonizing as the knot slowly presses into you. You only realize that you're holding your breath when you hear Frankie murmur "Breathe, sweetness, just breathe, you can do it" behind you, and you exhale with a shrieked Oh my God!

"It'stoo much," Frankie frets, pulling out, but you push back.

"Nonono, do it, I need it, do it, please please please!"

Once again, the mass inches into you, and this time you meet it halfway, jamming your ass against Frankie's hips, swallowing the knot and once again losing your breath at how full you are, full to the point of tearing, a string of Oh my God oh my God oh my God fuck fuck fuck spilling from you as you fist the blankets to hard that your knuckles go white.

Through the searing burn, you start to feel the adrenaline. Fuck, that's big, but you got it. You have it all in you, you're doing it, oh my God that's tight but you got it, even if it burns, you got it, and you start to relax and Frankie moans somewhere near your ear, and you flex your walls around him and he moans again, deliciously.

"Fuck me," you beg, "Frankie, fuck me now, with the knot, fuck me and fill me up, I need you to cum inside me, take me, just fuck me!"

He covers you, the polyester fur warm and itchy as he takes you with slow, almost lazy yet deep rolls of his hips, the knot pushing easier into you now, arms with furry, clawed paws around your shoulders and neck, and when he pushes in one last time to empty himself in your core, your eyes roll back and you sob with relief that it's over.

And still, you never want it to be over.

Frankie is still buried in you, has you buried under him, shielding you from the increasing coolness of the October night. It's not until he carefully inches out of you that you realize just how cold it is, and your whine is a protest both against that, against him pulling out, and an expression of your soreness. Frankie immediately throws a blanket over you, then takes off the werewolf head.

"Goddammit, this thing's cooking me alive!"

You open your eyes and try to focus, finding the werewolf snarling right beside you. A pleasurable shiver runs through you, and then you feel the burning heat of Frankie's breath on your neck.

"Are you okay?"

You can only hum, dazed as you still are. Frankie shoves the werewolf head out of the way and lies down next to you, his face just inches away from yours.

"Talk to me, baby."

"Can't," you mumble throatily, and he chuckles.

"Okay."

In the light of the stars and fairy string lights, you see that his face is red and dripping with sweat, his disheveled curls wet and plastered onto his head. His breathing is still labored, and the puffs of air are hot against you.

It's so fucking sexy.

Your pussy is still throbbing, slick and sloppy as his cum oozes out and stains your thighs. You've never felt so filthy, and you're loving it.

Finally, you draw a deep breath and open your eyes to Frankie's attentive gaze.

"I'm good," you tell him, and are immediately rewarded with a smile.

"You liked it, then?"

"Liked it?" you scoff huskily. "Fuck, Frankie... it's the best sex we ever had."

"Not better than that time we..."

"Okay, not better than that," you smile wryly, knowing what occasion he's referring to. "But top three, definitely."

"Really?"

"Frankie... I know you weren't into it from the start but I'm so grateful you decided to give it a try."

You scoot closer and kiss him softly.

"It means so much that you wanted to give this to me."

"I want to make you happy," he whispers against your lips. "And I did like it. You were so fucking hot, baby. When you took the knot, you were... feral. I've never seen you like that."

His hand slides in under the blanket, finding a plump breast straining out of the bodice.

"The costume works for me, too."

His hand travels up your chest, neck, and stops by your cheek, his big thumb dragging over your lips.

"And your lipstick is all smeared out. It's really fucking hot."

You chuckle, flushed from his praise. Frankie kisses you again before letting his lips wander down your cheek and jawline.

"Now that we've done what you're into... can we do the thing that I'm into?"

You bite down on your lower lip, but the giggle still finds its way out.

"Which is?"

Frankie continues to kiss his way down the exposed parts of your body, moving blankets and himself until he's settled between your legs. He collects his spend from around your cunt before pushing it back in with two fingers, lips latching onto your clit.

Your back arches and you see stars, literally, along with the lights strung up on the back of the cabin. The discarded werewolf head grins at you from a corner, and you smile back before your eyes fall shut and you give yourself to pleasure once more.

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #triple frontier fanfic #my fic

84 notes · View notes

ellieluvr420 · 3 months

Text

We meet again, darling pt.11 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

Over the weeks since your chat with Ellie, she felt herself descending into madness. She didn't leave her apartment anymore for fear that you were watching or because she thought she was seeing you everywhere. She didn't talk to anyone outside of work for fear that you were somehow controlling them. She barely slept which was taking a toll on her physically and psychologically. But the worst of it were the nightmares. She had dreamt of you killing just about every loved one she had, dreamt of you killing her. Sometimes she would just dream that you were visiting her in her apartment again. But the dream that made her run to the toilet to throw up everything in her stomach while crying was when she dreamt that she found you, she didn't say anything to you, she just grabbed you and started to kiss you hungrily, like she was trying to devour you, she ripped your clothes off and took you and then you took her and when she looked in the mirror that was conveniently placed by the bed you were both on she was covered in blood, you were too. You were laughing maniacally until you purred: "You're just as bad for wanting me Ellie. The blood's on your hands." She didn't sleep the night after that too terrified to see the scene again. Her co-workers had given her shit for her dishevelled appearance but she honestly didn't care. She just needed the dreams to stop. She had to find you and she had no idea how, the only connection she had to you was Abby.

She had watched Abby grow and prosper for every bit she deteriorated and all she craved was to feel like that. To stop feeling like this. She followed Abby to the bathroom at work one day and with a voice she had never heard leave her lips she begged.

"Abby, please, I need to speak to her but I don't know how to find her."

"Yeah there's a reason for that Ellie."

Ellie still had enough self-respect to give up and turn away but Abby's demeanour had only made her more determined. She found herself sitting in her car outside of Abby's apartment, she had been over once to pick up a file, waiting, hoping you would come. She was almost asleep when she saw your familiar, haunting figure walking into the apartment building. All the sleep in her body was erased with adrenaline as she waited for you to leave once again. She thanked her lucky stars when she saw you leave about an hour later and she still felt high on the rush of getting closer to you as she followed you to wherever you were going. She noticed how dressed up you were as you walked into Abby's but she hadn't realised what this meant for her until she pulled up to a mansion with dozens of cars parked out front. She parked far enough away to not cause suspicion and stalked the rest of the way to the mansion on foot. She found a side door that was open and had to take a second to process what she was actually about to do.

You're enjoying the party dancing with a friend when you feel a tap on the shoulder. You whip round and your face immediately scrunches into a scowl as you see Ellie standing before you. You turn to who you were previously dancing with and tell them you'll find them later. You turn back to Ellie and put your arms around her neck and pull her close. She stands completely stiff until you grab her arms and put them around your waist and whisper: "If you want to leave here with your life I suggest you act casual and dance." She gulped and started to sway with you silently as all the words she had planned to say have completely left her mind.

"When will you detectives learn to stop crashing my parties?" Ellie still makes no attempt to speak, she doesn't even make eye contact with you. You huff and grab her chin to make her look at you and replace your arm round her neck. "Why are you here Ellie?"

"I need to know how you do it.”

"Do what?"

"Everything. You don't exist but you're everywhere. I've looked for some sort of sign of you in every gang related crime going back decades and there's nothing. Even if we brought down your whole operation you would walk away clean. You have Anderson wrapped around your pinkie. You have me-"

"I have you what?" You smirk.

"You're in my head. I don't let people get in my head. I don't want your hush money and I don't believe you'll hurt innocent people like my loved ones." Your face curves into a smile that can only be described as looking like the Cheshire cat. "So I'm calling your bluff. I'm going to ruin you." You slowly move your arms away from her neck and then grab her by the throat and squeeze with all the power you have.

"Call my bluff Ellie. Watch just how bad I can be. You have no idea who you're playing with. Here I thought we could be friends but you just had to ruin it. Leave now and watch your back you little cunt. I'm done playing nice." You spit the words at her and push her back so she staggers. She gives you one final dagger-sharp glare and leaves the way she came in. You stood, frozen for a second as you feel the rage boiling inside you and then you storm over to Richter and grab him by the arm dragging him away from his conversation.

"Woah what's going on?"

"You remember that other cop I told you about?" He nods already looking concerned. "I'm going to kill everyone she loves while she watches and then rip her limb from limb. Get the guys to start rounding up all the people we found addresses on and bringing them to the warehouse. I am fucking done." You storm off before he can say anything else.

"Oh boy." Richter excuses himself and gives instructions to security to have everyone out by midnight as he leaves to his car.

When you saw Abby earlier in the evening you said you would come back to hers after the party but when she hears a knock at the door at 9.30pm she's confused as you said the party finished at midnight. She just assumes you got bored and rushes to the door and flings it open.

"Oh." Abby's heart jumps to her throat as she sees Richter standing at her door.

"Hi Abby, sorry to just stop by like this before we've been formally introduced. Can I come in? It's important."

"Yeah. Of course." She lets him and locks the door behind her, she walks into the living room to see him just standing taking in the room.

"How much has she told you?"

"I know she's your sister."

"You know about my parents?"

"Yeah."

"Good then you know she isn't exactly subtle."

"She said you did it together."

"We did. In no way am I saying I didn't want to, I did. But she masterminded that. She is a lot more dangerous than me. Even having been in the game as long as I have, I still can't hurt people the way she can."

"Yeah she did mention something about that the other night."

"I'm choosing to not address the obvious relationship you are in with my sister because there is a more pressing matter to be dealt with but I hope you don't think I am none the wiser." She gulps at his words but stays quiet. "It seems that officer, Williams I think it is, has royally pissed my sister off. I'm sure I don't have to tell you she has a temper on her and she is planning something quite drastic to get back at her. I want to avoid this as much as I can because I know she has a use for Williams that she hasn't yet divulged to me. I have already made some calls but I need your help getting Williams out of the way so my sister doesn't do something that will draw more attention to us."

"Is she going to kill Ellie?"

"That would be kind of her for the state of anger that she's in."

"Oh."

"You going to help me?"

"Yeah. what do you need?"

#abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #tlou abby #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams

49 notes · View notes

muzansslxt · 1 year

Text

Maniac

Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Warnings: Dubcon, gun play, age gap, abuse, black mail,kidnapping, swearing, degradation and manipulation. Read at your own risk🫠

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Toji was a lot of things, a gambler, a play boy, and an assassin.

But he wasn’t soft, he didn’t have a heart underneath his muscular chest. He didn’t love, and he certainly didn’t care about the fact you were unconscious laying in his back seat.

His dark brooding eyes flicked to the rear view mirror, silently drinking in your figure.

You were young, much younger than him but certainly old enough to be legal.

Shaking his head, he continued to drive to his apartment, he wasn’t sure what to do with you just yet.

You weren’t worth anything dead, he was instructed by his superiors to simply obtain you and use any methods necessary to get you to spill the information about Jujutsu high.

He pulled into a shabby underground parking lot and scanned the area to make sure nobody was out and about before pulling you from the car and slung you over his broad shoulder easily.

You were so light, so small and fragile.

An evil smirk began to form on his handsome face, you would be very easy to break.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

It took you some time, but you finally awoke.

Your head was pounding with an on coming head ache and your mouth felt like cotton.

Looking around, you were quick to realize you were in someone else’s home. The arm chair you were bound to was littered in cigarette burns and what looked like blood.

“You’re awake.” Came a deep voice behind the chair.

The ropes dug into the flesh of your wrists and ankles as you tried to turn, to look at the man.

Toji watched with an amused expression before leaning over the back of the chair and lazily ran a hand gun along your jawline.

“You’re y/n. I’ve heard all about you~ They call you the sorcerers slut you know~” he teased.

You felt your face heat up.

“That’s not true.” You snapped.

Toji raised a brow, he was expecting someone whiny, someone who would cry and break down.

You were different.

Humming, Toji moved so he was in front of you, pulling up a foot stool, he sat down and just smiled arrogantly.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know about that Gojo moron.” He said while moving the gun away from your face and let it hang in his hand.

You glared back at him.

“I know nothing about any of the jujutsu sorcerers, I’m only there to escort the students home safely.”

Toji snorted, his fingers tightening around the gun handle.

“Bullshit.” He chuckled before reaching into his pocket for his phone the photograph he was supplied with for this interrogation.

“I know all about who you spread your legs for~”

Toji pulled his phone out of his back pocket, eyes glued to the screen for a moment before flipping it around for you to see.

You felt your stomach drop.

It was a picture of you, sat on Gojos cock with your head tossed back.

“How did you- who-“ you stuttered as your face reddened.

Toji chuckled at your crimsoned cheeks, he had you right where he needed.

“Not so tough now are you little girl~”

You glare at him with hatred.

“Don’t give me that look~” he cooed before standing up swiftly, “I think you enjoy fucking older men, maybe you can bounce on my cock like you did for Gojo~”

“You pervert! You- You fucking pervert! Go fuck yourself!” You snarled while looking up at him.

His eyes flashed angrily before leaning down and suddenly ripped your shirt off, although you tried to squirm away from his hands, it was useless.

In a split second he already had you naked.

“You have a foul mouth for such a pretty girl~” he hummed while his eyes drank your exposed body in.

You could feel your stomach roll and the burn of shame made your eyes water, yet your body was acting differently, much to your dismay.

Toji purred while looking at your shaved pussy, glistening with your own arousal.

“St-stop staring, god damn it.” You say in a desperate voice, the embarrassment starting to get to you.

“Fine. I’ll take a picture instead, lasts longer right?” He said cooly as he brought his phone out and snapped a few close ups of your soaked cunt.

“No! No! De-“ you were cut off as the barrel of his hand gun was shoved into your mouth.

You could taste the cold metallic metal on your tongue, and whined.

“I’m tired of hearing you complain.” He growled before looking down again between your legs, with how you had been tied to the chair, he could see your spread open pussy.

Smirking Toji pulled the gun from your mouth slowly before letting it trail down your body slowly, the cold metal was almost a relief on your hot skin, but your eyes never left the finger Toji had on the trigger.

You began to cry once the gun crossed your trembling stomach to your twitching clit.

The inescapable thought that at any moment this man could kill you, stayed burned in the back of your mind.

And yet you couldn’t help but gasp through your tears and watched in horror as he slowly rubbed your aching clit in circles with the hand gun.

“You’re pretty wet doll~ Think you can take it?~”

You were about to scream and beg for him not to, but as soon as your mouth opened, Toji slapped a large hand over it as he began to nudge the gun inside of you.

Toji pushed the gun slightly until it started to slide inside your waiting hole, the barrel was burning through the tight rings of your cunt.

A strangled cry left your lips only to be muffled by Tojis palm, your hip’s jerked and writhed, trying to pull away from the crude object inside you.

“Oh relax~ You’re soaking wet right now princess~ I can’t believe you’re gunna cum from a fucking gun.” He laughed, pumping the weapon faster and grinning at the obscene noises it was making.

You sobbed hysterically but arched your back as the tip of the gun started to press and rub against that precious sweet spot, your pussy clamped around the barrel tighter and it was moans leaving your mouth now.

Toji couldn’t believe how easy it was to unwind you.

A cream ring began to form around the end of the barrel, your clit puffy with arousal and the constant clench of your pussy signalled you were undoubtedly close to cumming.

Removing his hand from your lips, Toji plunged the gun one last time against your g spot, your walls were on fire, the knot in your stomach snapped.

“Hah! N-no- Ah!~” Your voice sounded strangled as you whimpered and gasped, your pussy gushed around the gun, costing it in your essence.

“What do you think will happen if this goes public?~” Toji suddenly purred while slowly pulling the gun out and watched your cunt clench and drip in response.

You were so frightened and overwhelmed with pleasure, you didn’t even notice the camera placed on the couch recording.

“Before you start those crocodile tears, I’ll make a deal with you doll face~ Tell me all about Satoru and I’ll delete the video, you can watch me do it too~” he cooed while rubbing your cheek as tears trailed down them silently.

Telling Toji what he wanted would surely get you killed, most likely by Gojo himself, or you could face the humiliation of having your pussy filmed and stuffed with a gun, for everyone to see.

The choice was yours to make…

#jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #daddy toji #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #dilf toji #toji thirst #smut #toji smut

306 notes · View notes

mamm0nsmainwif3 · 1 month

Text

Mortality

Ft:Mc, mammon

Game: obey me shall we date

Tw:character death, disturbing topics

Just please don’t interact if you can’t handle these types of ANGST fics 😭

Gender neutral MC

LESSON 16 SPOILERS

__________________________________

It was just like any other day in the HoL, Lucifer was in his study running through paper after paper.

Mammon was in his bedroom sitting on his couch, counting Grimm and binding any devil points he had.

Leviathan sitting down infront of his computer waiting anxiously for the next “SSR limited ruri-chan!” Figure to go on auction.

Satan was in the library, looking around for a book about healing herbs for one of asmos face masks.

Asmodeus found himself sitting at his vanity, light shining down on his face as he fixed his eyeliner and lightly curled his Lucious hair.

Beelzebub? We all know where he was, Beel was in the kitchen slamming down the whole refrigerator after a long workout at the gym with his friends.

Mc well they- wait? Where is Mc?

Mc was running, hastily up the stairs to meet the beloved demon they have been sneaking to every night, it’s not like they liked him but he was one of their friends. And the thrill of defying Lucifer Lord of pride was way too good to stop!

There they sat, outside the bars of the attic having yet another conversation with the demon.

Wishing to be closer to him, Mc put their all into getting rid of those bars.

And one day, they did! Running up those same steps, to see that same demon, the one they have been seeing for almost a month now!

They were all antsy, trembling with excitement as belphegor opened his strong arms

Mc began to walk to belphegor, opening their arms just as wide, suddenly they were frozen, his hands gripping tightly on their throat as their feet raised from the ground

They gasped for air, they tried to scream, nothing came out but the gurgled sounds of pain.

Once belphegor was sure that they weren’t moving quite as much anymore..he threw them roughly to the ground, kicking them down the stairs letting their body roll to the bottom.

——————————-

Every brother in the house heard the loud maniacal laughter that filled their ears, not only did they recognize that laugh as their younger brother who was supposed to be in the human realm, they heard the thuds as the human laid at the bottom of the stairs

Switching to Mammons pov here! :)

Mammon heard the loud thuds, the maniacal laughter of his little brother.

But thats not all, he felt his humans pact tug for him, were they hurt?

Mammon was so confused, he didn’t know what to do but his first instinct was to get to his human as soon as possible, he ran faster than he’d ever ran before, when he got to the stair room, he saw Mc laying on the ground barely breathing, belphegor was being held back by Beelzebub while Lucifer in a panic was scolding and ordering around his brothers.

Mammons heart dropped in his chest as he stared at them.

Wasn’t he their protector?

And if so..why are they laying across from him half dead, he promised them, he told them that if he couldn’t protect them than they might as well die.

Mammons legs carried him to mc where he scooped their body into his arms

His brothers watched as mammon began to sob and tremble, he felt his heart ripping apart in his chest, he hadn’t cried this hard since Lilith

He held them tightly to his chest

He never meant it when he called it you a stupid human Mc

He didn’t mean it, so please keep your eyes open

Give him another chance to prove himself

He held their hand tightly and watched as their eyes shut, his tears dropping onto their face

…

He had loved them since the beginning

Ever since he laid their eyes on him he didn’t want to admit it but they were the most beautiful/handsome human he had ever laid his eyes on.

He wished he had admitted his love to them sooner

To their face

But now here he is, admitting it to their headstone, resting a bouquet of yellow roses on their grave next to the photo of them that was hung up

Mammon pressed his lips to it gently

He gripped the dirt tightly and lowered his head in respect..

In respect for the human he had loved

In respect for the human that had him kicking his feet and giggling whenever they shot him a text

In respect for the human that reminded him he wasn’t a filthy scum, but a demon lord

In respect for his human.

#obey me #obey me mammon angst #obey me nightbringer #mammon x reader #obey me mammon

37 notes · View notes

saltygilmores · 2 months

Text

Dance Marathon Episode-Part 9-The Bloody Finale. RIP Shane.

Now I know my readers have lost untold hours of sleep pondering the origin of all this Shane is Dead nonsense. Fret no more, my 4-6 regular readers. Fret no more. After her public dumping for the ages, Rory retreats to Money Laundering Bridge, where the soon to be homocidal maniac follows close behind (Shane's current whereabouts are unclear, but he won't let her get too far). A brief, gloomy conversation between Jess and Rory ensues, where it is established that Jess and Rory Like-Like each other and are comitting to not knowing a moment of peace or sexual intercourse for the next 6-8 months. Yippee. So, we are to believe that the thing that needs "taking care of" is presumably, ending his "relationship" with Shane. But a normal, not-murderer person could have said something like "I have to go talk to Shane." Or he would have not said anything to Rory because Shane was not even his girlfriend anyway, so who gives a crap? If we have just established that Rory and Jess have decided to make a go of this thing, it's a given that Shane is history. She's off like a prom dress. So why did he have to say it like that? What, exactly, has to be "taken care of"? You know what kind of people say things like that? People who are in the mob, before they erase someone. (but instead of "sleeping with the fishes", Shane will be sleeping with the swans.) On top of that, why are you using that absolutely bone-chilling tone of voice? And such a creepy Okuh, too. That's an okuh that will make your blood run cold. Also, that creepy way he's staring at Rory, like he's contemplating evil. You can see it in his eyes that the evil gears are turning in his evil brain. How convenient that after he says this Ms. Campbell is never seen or heard from again. RUN SHANE! RUN! Run as fast as your slutty little legs can carry you!

Shane Campbell B. 198? D. 2002 Shane Campbell was born sometime in the mid 80s to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who were those really cool kinda parents who let their daughter have boys in her bedroom and said things like "drinking is okay as long as you do it in the house". Until her untimely death, Ms. Campbell was employed by Stars Hollow Beauty Supply. She prided herself on being gainfully employed and sex-positive and being the creator of new words such as "bloaty". She was educated in the Stars Hollow school system, causing some of her detractors to believe that Ms Campbell did not know how ice was made. She had plans to attend cosmetology school and looked forward to a career in the beauty industry where she would have made more money and met way cooler people and had a lot more sex than other people who went to Yale instead. We will miss her spicy customer service, off the shoulder tops, low rise jeans, and love of tonsil hockey. RIP. I will remember you, will you remember me, don't your let your life pass you by...weep not for the memories... Jess departs the lake to locate his victim and comitt certain felonies and busy himself with cleaning up bodily remains. As she posed no real threat to his relationship with Rory, his motive for Taking Care of Shane remains unclear. He is just a blood thirsty maniac. God forbid a boy finds a hobby, right? He has a long night ahead of him. Rory and Lorelai return to the dance a few moments apart, where Rory's absence has disqualifed them and Kirk wins. Rory cries into Lorelai's arms over the loss of Butthead and the gaining of Jess The Mess. As Kirk circles the gym with his trophy, the Rocky theme song plays, which drowns out Shane's screams of terror from behind the school. With the same superpower that he utilized to abscond with 500 baseballs, Jess manages to drag Shane's lifeless body from the school and back to the lake and feeds her to the swans. The end.

#RIP Shane #we'll miss you queen #until you come back as a Swan and give your killer a rightful beaking #such a go getter #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #they shoot gilmores dont they #tsgdt #jess mariano #jess the killer #in the arms of the angel #may you find some comfort there #shane's obit has to be one of the silliest things ive ever written #at least I crack myself up

22 notes · View notes

enchantedflameandflower · 4 months

Text

Glimmer 27/? Billy Butcher fic

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter (26)

_____

Chapter 27

In the back of his mind, Billy knew that cut would heal in seconds on Addison, but still seeing the blood drip down her fair skin filled him with absolute rage and terror. Fuck every goddamn person on the planet if anything worse happened to her.

This was his fault. He knew it was. He pushed and pushed until he made a person break. If only he had been able to keep her with him…but he was a total cunt.

Billy stood, gripping the back of the chair as he forced himself to watch the video feed on the screen in front of him. He wouldn’t be surprised if the metal frame on the chair splintered right under his hands.

The man leaned closer to Addison again. The slice on her chest sealed closed but blood was dripping down to soak into her tank top. The man smiled at the sight then seemed to say something to Addison that Billy could not hear.

He could tell she was still heavily drugged and she didn’t seem to know what was even happening. She hadn’t even flinched when he cut her and she couldn’t fully open her eyes or hold her head up.

This was emphasized when the fucker tried to get her to look at him and she couldn’t quite do it. He wrapped his fingers around her neck to hold her chin up and drug the tip of his knife down her cheek, then laughed again as more blood ran down her jaw line.

“I want those coordinates now,” Billy roared, picking up the chair and slamming it back down on the ground.

But the next words that came made his blood run cold.

“Are you watching this, Butcher? You watching?” The man flung his arm out, and his knife grazed Addison, a big gash opening on her shoulder.

“Butch-her?” The maniac chuckled. “I just met her! Oh watch this…”

He pushed her tank top aside a little then started to cut into her chest, just over her heart. When he stepped away again it was clear that he had carved a letter ‘B’ and he laughed the loudest yet. Blood dripped down her skin in a macabre pattern, emphasizing the letter.

Billy felt like he’d been tossed in an ocean of ice. This cunt was doing this to hurt him, not her. Just like…

“I have a triangulation,” a voice came from a corner of the CIA room of computers and screens. “I can’t get a lock, it’s bouncing around but I have an area.”

“I want it now!“ Butcher bellowed. If MM hadn’t put his hands on Billy’s shoulders at that exact moment god knows what he would’ve done.

“William -“ Mallory started.

“I don’t give a fuck. We’re going now. I’m going to find this fucking cunt.” It seemed clear it wasn’t a supe and, beyond that, he didn’t give one single fuck. He would rip him apart, limb by limb.

The agent was typing furiously as Billy stalked over to him when suddenly a shrill ring came across the feed and the man answered a cell phone. Everyone in the room froze, watching the screen. When he hung it up he was still grinning and he cut a long stripe down the length of Addison’s arm.

“Well it looks like my fun for tonight is starting to come to an end. A little birdie tells me you’re honing in on me now so I think I’ll skedaddle,” he grinned. “But I’m really a nice guy so I’ll even help you out a bit. And maybe you’ll even learn more about yourself! I thought this might happen so I had a contingency plan ready to go. I have to admit even after everything I’m still curious if you actually love this dirty little supe bint or you’re really just fucking her for kicks so I set up a little experiment for you. I’m gonna give you two addresses. Yes, our little Addi here will be at one,” he cupped his hand around his mouth, “don’t worry I’ll be long gone,” he dropped his hand again, waving his knife around in the other. “But I found a nice girl to keep the other place warm and cozy too. Completely innocent. Young. Hopeful…” he shook his head smiling wide. “You choose.” He listed the two addresses gleefully then held up his hand. “Oh, duh,” he shook he head, “I might’ve, uh, rigged some explosives at both places. Big ones!” He gestured animatedly. “Addi might be able to handle this little knife,” he leaned closer, “but how much shrapnel do you think she can take? Eh,” he shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

And then he was gone, Addison left hanging in the dark.

Billy was already out the door, MM hot on his heels. “Butcher!” He shouted. “Which one we goin’ to first? We only have your car…”

As Billy plowed through the door he almost knocked Frenchie to the cement but Kimiko grabbed his arm.

“Fuckin’ good,” he growled. Maybe they had a chance. “Kimiko, with me, MM go with Frenchie. We’ll take the first place,” he shouted over his shoulder to MM, climbing into his car. Kimiko hopped in the opposite side just as he gunned the engine and they were gone, tires squealing.

*******

Fucking hell… Addison tried to call out but only a whimper escaped. Her head felt like it was stuffed with hot cotton. She gasped, trying to take a deeper breath and shook her head. It had never, ever hurt like this, but she had to get the fuck out of here. She couldn’t remember much but she was pretty sure she heard the word bomb. And Butcher…. Something about Butcher. Oh he was going to be so fucking mad.

Something tickled at her skin and she managed to blink her eyes open. Her shirt was covered in blood…a lot of blood. Holy fuck, what happened? The fucking cunt. She didn’t know who the man was that had been taunting her her but she knew she was going to find him and kill him.

Butcher was right, he’d been right all along, and she’d let her stupid stuck-up, narcissistic, pride get in the way. He was right about her. Maybe he was right about everything.

Tears stung in the back of her eyes but fire flared up from within her. No. She was here, she was alive, and she knew she was stronger than anyone had ever given her credit for, even herself. Addison took another breath and growled, summoning whatever was left of her energy from deep inside. She pulled it up, up through her body and into her arms and she jerked her hands apart. The chains holding her broke, clattering to the floor.

For a moment she thought she was going to collapse but she held steady, forcing herself to breath, to stand, to do this for herself. Somehow she gained her own steadiness and this time tears of utter happiness sprang to her eyes. And then the fire set in again.

She felt like maybe after another minute of building her strength she could find that piece of shit and tear him apart. She was sure he had only just left. When she caught up with him…

Addison took a step and when her footing didn’t falter a sense of strength she’d never felt before welled up inside of her and she felt like she almost had enough fire to run out but she didn’t have to. In the next moment two big arms were wrapping around her.

“Chèrie!”

Addison blinked. MM and Frenchie were standing in front of her, MM holding her up. But only one thought came to mind, and a desperate sob escaped her before she could control it.

“Where’s Billy?!”

_____

Chapter 28

It would mean the whole world to me to get some comments! Anything at all is welcome - your lonely neighborhood fanfic writer <3

#karl urban #billy butcher #fanfic #the boys #karl urban fanfic #the boys fanfic #billy butcher fanfic #karl urban fanfiction #smut #whump #billy butcher smut #billy butcher fanfiction #the boys fanfiction

26 notes · View notes