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ceilidho · 2 days

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prompt: construction worker ghost and his elementary school teacher neighbour who made the poor decision to start feeding him (nsfw, 2k) [based on this old ask] [on ao3 here]

They say not to feed wild animals.

It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench.

You know this. So you really don’t know what possessed you to leave a cooler full of sandwiches on your neighbour’s doormat before turning in for the night.

He wakes up preternaturally early and leaves every morning around four-thirty or five o’clock on the dot. Sometimes in the fog of sleep, you wake to hear the door to the apartment beside yours crack open and slam shut, and then the sound of lumbering footsteps down the hall towards the staircase before that door opens and slams shut too.

He never comes home before four o’clock at the earliest. That’s around when you come home from work as well, meaning that you sometimes catch him at the door, him covered in grime and reeking of old sweat while you come flouncing down the hall in whatever colourful dress you’d donned that morning, inevitably paint-splattered by the end of the day. Always something appropriate to wear at an elementary school but colourful enough to keep the kids’ eyes and attention on you.

You’ve caught his name in half-whispered conversations with the property manager, but aside from that, all you know about Simon Riley is that he works in construction. He certainly looks the part: big, calloused hands with blunt, dirt-caked nails and cut up fingers, knuckles always swollen and thick. Body all strength and brawn. Hard hat tucked under his armpit and decorated with countless stickers from old job sites, the same way his forearm is covered in tattoos.

You’ve even passed by his current job site once or twice—some new condo complex going up by the canal that’s forced you and hundreds of other commuters to leave an extra thirty minutes early to account for the road closures. You pointedly don’t bring that up in conversation though. That would just be rude.

At least it would be something to talk about though.

It’s not like the two of you talk. You’re not close by any means. Though you moved in a few months ago, you haven’t had much luck mustering up the confidence to squeak out more than a hi to him in passing. When he grunts back something approximating a hello, it’s all you can do not to break your key in the lock when you hurry into your apartment and slam the door shut behind you, heart beating frantically in your chest.

It’s humiliating. You’re a grown woman and you’ve talked to plenty of men before. You’ve dated plenty of men before. Just because this one speaks in monosyllables and stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn and your palms grow sweaty doesn’t change anything. Just because this one is built like a redwood with wrists thick enough that you’d need both hands to wrap around doesn’t make him any different than any other person.

And yet, when Simon asks you for your name on a rainy June afternoon after you’ve come in after him for a change only to find him sifting through letters at the mailbox, you garble out something that sounds nothing like your name before scurrying up the stairs to your flat.

It’s humiliating. It’s humid outside and your dress is sticking to all the wrong places (namely, your nipples and the inside of your thighs when the skirt swishes between your legs with each stride) and now you’ve made an ass of yourself in front of the only hot guy in your building. There are serial arsonists with more charm than you.

So maybe the sandwiches are an apology letter or an olive branch. Or maybe it just makes your heart race to think of Simon opening up the cooler and finding four wax paper-wrapped sandwiches tucked neatly over ice packs.

All you know is that when you step out of your apartment the next morning, the cooler is empty on your doormat, the lid propped open. He must have taken them with him.

You smile. A job well done. Apology served fresh, with cucumber slices in the middle.

The problem starts when you don’t leave him another cooler full of sandwiches on his doormat the next day.

You didn’t consider that he might think you’d make it a habit. Perhaps that’s partially on you for not leaving a note on the cooler the first time to explain that it was just a one-off; just a way to apologize for being less than chipper around him. But instead of shrugging it off, you come home after a long day to find him standing right outside your apartment, arms crossed over his chest, thick biceps straining against his sweat-stained shirt.

“Open the door,” Simon commands, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you. He jerks his head towards your door when you just frown, not following. “Been starving here waiting for you to show up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re at a loss for words, never mind that your whole job involves talking. He leaves you speechless though.

Simon doesn’t move when you step close enough to unlock the door. You try to keep your body angled away so as not to brush up against him, but it’s inevitable. He doesn’t move when the door opens either, forcing you to squeeze by him.

He goes straight to the kitchen and drags a chair out, letting it scrape across the floor like men always do before taking a seat. You follow after him nervously, apprehensive at having a man in your space. Not just a man, but Simon Riley. It feels sacrilege—not like he has no right being in your space, but you can’t imagine him here, sitting at your tiny dining room table like he comes over for dinner every Sunday.

When he catches you standing under the archway to the kitchen just staring at him, he barks, “Well?”

That has you scurrying over to the fridge to pull out the cold cuts and pickled red onions. There’s a loaf of bread already on the counter, the bag twisted and tucked underneath because you had to leave in a rush this morning. You don’t know half of what you pile on the sandwiches, but whatever you serve him must satisfy him because Simon digs in with gusto, finishing the plate off in only a few bites while you wash the cutlery in the sink. You watch him out of the corner of your eye the whole while.

He leaves not too long after that, only a light warning for you to not miss tomorrow’s lunch before heading back over to his own apartment. You don’t even get a word in edgewise.

It becomes something of a routine after that and not one you have any control over. Every night before bed, you leave him a cooler full of sandwiches and other things like cut up fruit or slices of cheese on his doormat, and every afternoon you rock up to him waiting on your doorstep, demanding to be let in.

He takes to giving you a wet kiss before he leaves, all tongue and his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. When you try to cover his mouth with your hand, he nips at your fingers until you move them and let him slip you some tongue.

The day you make him a casserole for supper, he bends you over the back of your couch and eats you out. Simon eats like a man starving, glutting himself on the wetness between your legs, licking even over the furl of your asshole and chuckling under his breath when you squeal and flail, your toes just brushing against the floor.

In the aftermath, you sit panting in his lap while he eats. He gets up only briefly to get the bowl of strawberries and cream you left chilling in the fridge before lifting you up and putting you right back in his lap. You stare bleary-eyed when he holds a finger covered in cream up to your lips.

“Clean me up, pet,” he says, then watches you with half-lidded eyes while you lick his finger clean.

He makes you suck his fingers too, to keep things even. He does it when you’re angled half off the bed, thick digits stuffed down your throat until your eyes leak big, fat tears that he licks away, hungry for those too. The man is always hungry, always keen to fill his belly.

The arrangement continues on long enough to become normal, even routine. Simon shows up at your door every day after work waiting to be fed, and then makes you come a couple times before he leaves, a little thank you to repay you for the food. He never really says all that much when he comes around, not a conversationalist of a man. His preference is to eat, fuck, and leave, which you’re happy to accommodate, still too tongue-tied yourself to broach a real conversation.

That’s all before he starts helping himself to your bed for a quick nap after a big supper. Then for naps that turn into a full night’s sleep, snoring like a chainsaw under the covers with you tucked under his arm, naked breasts pressed against his side, keeping you awake most of the night until you pass out somewhere around one A.M.

Just as you suspected, Simon gets up at around four or five to be at the jobsite on time, but at your place, he gets up a bit earlier to help himself to breakfast. He doesn't even bother waking you up, just turns you over onto your tummy and spreads your legs before sinking his dick into where you're still stretched out from the night before. If you wake up or squirm, he just leans down and murmurs, “S'alright, pet…just need a pick me up before work. Go back to sleep, you’re okay,” and ruts between your thighs until he comes inside you and leaves you all wet in bed with one last messy kiss to your temple.

The door slams shut on his way out.

Because you feed him, he keeps coming back. The workday passes in a blur: attendance, a spelling test, recess, maths in the afternoon, and then you’re driving home in the same daze that has you slamming on the brakes before rear ending an old woman who stopped two cars behind the truck at the redlight ahead.

You’re home earlier than him for a change, so you unlock the door quickly while there’s still a chance to avoid him. No such luck. When Simon turns up, he pounds on the door until you let him in. And you do.

It’s a wonder you haven’t come apart at the seams, horny and pent up after this morning. You were too sleepy to come after all, rode hard and put away wet. Still, you flit nervously around the apartment, looking everywhere but at him.

He always smells rich after working all day in the sun, like sweat and dirt. It's not a particularly nice smell, but it still kind of gets you going. He goes for a shower and then collapses on the couch after, beckoning you over to you crawl into his lap and grind yourself on his thigh because he knows of course. Simon can probably smell it on you, the ache. He shushes you when you whine about it, big hands fitting around your hips and pressing you down until your clit rubs deliciously against the muscle of his thigh and your head goes cloudy, cheek mushed against the pillow of his chest.

When you come, Simon tips your chin up with his knuckle and murmurs, “Knickers off, love. Haven’t got my fill.”

He feeds you your own slick from his fingers when he kneels on the floor in front of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders. Your fingers scratch helplessly over shorn blond hair, buzzed almost to the scalp. It’s prickly under your fingertips.

Simon’s a messy eater. Your slick dribbles down his lips and glistens on his chin. It makes the blood roar under your skin, feverishly hot.

“Please, Simon,” you whine, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “It hurts.”

You feel his lips quirk up against the folds of your pussy, the flat of his tongue running up the seam and flicking over your clit. He chuckles when your hips jerk. “Greedy aren’t you, pet? Didn’t even say thank you for getting on my knees.”

“You didn’t make me come!”

His voice borders on mocking when he coos, “Poor little thing. It’s gonna be a lot longer ‘til she gets to come if you don’t say thank you.”

Your brain goes staticy, fingers twitching on his scalp. His words echo back in your head. It’s rubbish, is what it is. All this time and he’s never said thank you once for the countless meals you’ve fed him. Indignation bubbles up in you, rising to the surface like fat on the cream, and you raise a hand to rub the tears from your eyes, a harsh rebuke on the tip of your tongue.

The protest dies on your lips when he meets your gaze. It’s hungrier than anything you’ve ever seen. Whatever animal lives under his skin stares back at you with black eyes, drool leaking from its jowls. It’s mindless, intent only on slaking its hunger. Filling its empty belly. And it is not afraid of you anymore. It knows you’ll feed it until it’s full. It knows you won’t let it go hungry anymore.

So, always leery of the bigger animal in the room, you mumble out a chest-thick, “Thank you,” and shiver when he grins.

There’s a reason they tell you not to feed strays. They often come back for more.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley/reader

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shotmrmiller · 2 days

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Not a dog, but a rat pt.II

2,3k nsfw mdni

This is home now.

The stale odor of sweat that once assaulted your senses is now familiar. The biting tang of iron no longer constricts your throat with its pungency. The dim lights that flicker overhead, bathing both spectators and fighters in a sickly glow doesn't leave you lightheaded anymore.

It's a constant. Adaptation is the first word that comes to mind— a process that's helped you survive in this new environment— but then Simon turns his attention to you from across the room.

He sits on a bench, a solitary figure amidst the chaos of this rowdy place. His knuckles are wrapped in tape and has got white buds in his ears— the way he channels his focus, a barrier between him and everything else. His stare is heavy, thick with an emotion you can't, or won't, name. But you can feel it. It pricks at your nerve endings, like tiny claws. It stirs within your chest, sending your heart aflutter with anticipation, tinged with a hint of fear. A wave of heat washes over you, blooming in your cheeks and warming your stomach; an admission.

Acceptance.

You break away from his intense gaze with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth.

This is your reality.

The fighters, the brawls, the dirty money, the blood— it's no longer just Simon's world. It's yours too. It's crusted beneath your fingernails and stuffed inside the pull-out couch you sleep on.

(Day number: ??? of begging Simon to buy you a proper mattress since he won't get a flat of his own)

It's waking every morning to soothe battered skin, fix broken noses, and ice black eyes.

Home— something brushes the tip of your ear, getting your attention— sweet...

home.

"What's a kleine maus like you doing in a gritty place like this?" His voice cuts through the cacophony of sounds that resound in the pit. A giant among men. Pallid skin, sinewy muscle taut over bone. A network of blue rivers runs through his arm, visible under the light as he reaches out to coil a lock of your hair around his long finger that resembles bare branches in winter.

"Katze got your tongue?" His grin sends a shiver up your spine. It lacks the warmth of life as if someone carved it out of frost-bitten marble. Fissure-like scars stretch across his face, bisecting a thick brow. Jagged lines of silver on his gaunt cheeks, the corner of his mouth and chin.

And one scar runs from the base of his aquiline nose— a thin, rosy mark, strangely delicate looking— down to his thin upper lip. The result of a congenital defect. Human. Unlike his eyes: a cold, stark blue devoid of light.

Your instincts scream, to run, to flee but deep-seated fear has you paralyzed, like gnarled roots snaking around your ankles, gripping tight, holding you captive. An even smaller part of your mind tells you that it'd be futile. There's no escaping this predator.

His eyes narrow a whit, the corners of his inhumane smile dropping. Anxiety has your thoughts in a Gordian knot— unease twisting and looping in the pit of your belly. You can feel the beginning pricks of pain on your scalp, the strands of hair he's got a hold of being pulled taut, stretched like a bridge.

Tears well up in your eyes unbidden.

"If you won't talk, then you'll sing." A threat. You're a marionette in his hands, and he's about to jerk the strings.

A gloved hand shoots out like a coiled snake, encircling his wrist, the leather groaning under the strain of his iron grip. "I'd let go o' her if I were you."

The grip on your hair slackens, relief flowing through you, thick and palpable. John stands in front of you with squared, broad shoulders and a set jaw— a shield between the stranger and you. It doesn't matter, however, because the stranger's towering stature is surreal, dwarfing even John's considerable height.

"König. Where is your handler? Wretched mongrels like you ought to remain leashed." John spits out, his facial hair contorting as he sneers. Your hand tentatively seeks his and you draw a shuddering breath when the comforting warmth of his presence seeps through the fabric of his gloves and melts into your clammy skin.

"Horangi?" He cocks his head, sunken eyes flashing to yours. A faint whimper escapes your tightly sealed lips and an amused look dances across his features. "Around looking for you, I imagine. I am not my inhaber's keeper." The mocking lilt in his gravelly tone doesn't go unnoticed. John's hand tightens around yours. "Besides. I was merely," he pauses, licking the front of his crooked teeth, "meeting her acquaintance. Ja, Fräulein?"

Your heart races, pounding against your ribcage as he addresses you, but John remains the immovable object. "Don't." His voice is a barely contained growl. "I won't be tellin' you again."

The authority in John's words is unignorable. It wipes the remnants of König's mirth off his face. There's a shift in the air then, electricity prickling at your nerves, raising the hair on the back of your neck. A storm is brewing. Your shoulders tighten, as does your hand, awaiting the impending crack of thunder.

"Boss." Just like that, the singular word cuts through the thickened atmosphere, lightening the oppressive tension between them two. "Problem?"

Simon comes to stand next to John, shoulder to shoulder. Reinforcing the wall you're hidden behind.

John sucks his teeth. "I don't think so. König?" It's not a question.

"Nein. No problem." Your eyes are lowered to the mud-slick floor as he leaves. You counted 14 littered betting slips.

John's grip loosens around your hand, leaning in to murmur something into Simon's ear before turning to you. "Gotta be careful 'round these types. Best stick with one of us, eh?" Another not a question.

It doesn't take much to guess what exactly he told him, not with that wild glint in his eye that he's currently looking at you with. It burns with ferocity, untamed and fervent. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and swiftly lifts you over his shoulder and carves a path through the drunken onlookers, ignoring the stares and taunting cat whistles as he heads towards the locker room.

The door slams against the wall as he kicks it open, the sound reverberating through the room. placing you down on one of the benches roughly, making you grimace at the jolt of brief pain that shoots up your back on impact.

"Simon!" His long strides already have him rounding the corner towards the showers, out of sight. "Arsehole. Tossing me around like some—" you startle when he suddenly reappears, the rest of the sentence sinking into your stomach, his face twisted with rage.

"Where'd he touch you?" He demands, casting a dark shadow over you as he looms.

His arrogant tone snaps the wisp-thin thread of patience you dangled from. "Listen, Ghost, I—" Your words are cut short as his large hand wraps around the underside of your jaw, fingers dimpling your cheeks with an unforgiving grip.

"No lip from you. Not right now." His command is final. Powerless in his hold, you can only gaze up at him with eyes wide with incredulity and a slightly puckered mouth.

"'M no' askin' again. Did he touch you here?" His other hand grazes the side of your head, featherlight, by your ear.

A nod.

"Wha' about 'ere?" Fingertips trail lines of intimacy from your cheek straight down to the column of your neck, lingering by your fluttering pulse.

A shake.

"'S good. I'd be obligated to erase 'is touch with my own. Isn't tha' right, pet? Only I get to touch you. Eh?" He rumbles, his words laced with a proprietary edge that tangle around your spine.

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw. The implication is clear. It's a claim, a brand on your flesh, a line drawn in the sand no one will ever dare cross.

Exclusive.

You made your choice long ago; it only took you this long to come to terms with it. It's bittersweet as it goes down your throat.

A slow nod.

"Good girl." His hand falls away from your face as he leans in. "Now remind me. Where else he touch ya?" Possessive. Intense. All-consuming.

Your eyes flick to the door with no lock and he gets your wordless message. "Kyle's on standby. No one's allowed t'see you like this but me."

The bench creaks under the shift of weight as he sits on it. His hands, firm and assertive, pull you across the wooden surface with ease, draping your legs over his own.

"Talk to me or I leave you here," his gaze drags down from the smooth skin of your neck down the swell of your chest, to your clothed sex. It's like an oil spill, spreading unchecked, leaving behind a slick residue of heat. "Wantin'. I can smell it fr'm 'ere."

Ironic how he barely says a word any other time, but apparently will chat up a storm during this poor excuse of foreplay.

"He—," you choke out, "he didn't touch me anywhere else."

Simon looks at you through half-lidded eyes as his steady hand disappears beneath the fabric of your shirt. "Didn't touch ya here?" His fingers teasingly follow the curve of your bare breast. You shake your head mutedly.

"No? How about 'ere?" The pad of his thumb brushes against your stiffened peak, swirling it once, twice. You clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Another shake.

He pinches it lightly before rolling it between his thumb and index. "'S good." He moves down to just below your navel, the whisper of contact trailing fire on your tender flesh. "I know he didn't touch 'ere."

No, he didn't. Neither has Simon, until now.

"Nor here." He unbuttons the front of your jeans and grabs the pull of your zipper, the clicking of the metal teeth like the ticking of a clock, counting down to what's about to happen. The damp air in the showers is thick with anticipation. His eyes never leave yours, pinning you in place like a butterfly on display, as he curls his fingers around the waistband of both your jeans and knickers.

You only get a moment's pause, to stop this train in its tracks but it's fleeting, like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

He pulls down, taking everything off of one leg completely and letting it bunch up around the other, pooling at your ankle. He exhales a sharp, ragged breath.

"I'd fuck you, but this isn't the place f'r it." Simon spits on his fingers and lightly drags them along your folds, lathering your cunt with his makeshift lube.

You gasp sharply when he catches your pearl, flicking it gently with a tip of his finger. Your back arches at the startling sensation. "Should've let me see this pretty pussy months ago, pet. Would've made your life and mine a hell of a lot easier."

He continues moving his hand along your wet heat, a torturously slow drag that kindles the fire in your belly, the occasional swirl of your pearl stoking it expertly.

"Barely doin' a thing 'nd you're already drippin' onto the bench." You don't look between your legs, refuse to actually, because you know that there's a puddle of arousal pooling beneath you. You can feel it; slick. slippery. warm.

Simon sinks a finger into you, down to the knuckle and oh, that pinprick of pain that sinks its sharp teeth around the pleasure he's built up is exquisite.

"Fuck," he groans, reflexively bucking his hips up into nothing. "Little prick ex of yours also had a tiny cock. Bloody tight." His impossibly long finger brushes over the rough patch of skin, somewhere you can never reach on your own, stealing the breath from your lungs. "I'll 'ave to stretch ya open," he adds a second finger, this time the burn flares. It doesn't stop until it's all the way in, where the ache finally fades, only leaving behind a residual warmth that throbs gently in the aftermath. "I'll make my cock fit." The usual deep timbre of his voice sounds rougher, huskier. Heady arousal barely restrained.

Another graze over your sweet spot, and this time, a high-pitched mewl spills from your lips. "Tha' it?" He hits it with pinpoint accuracy, over and over again, until your cunt begins to squelch lewdly; an obscene, sticky sound that somehow bounces off the grimy tile walls.

"Gonna cum f'me?" Your core constricts, vise-like around him, muscles tensing tight. Teasing, taunting, against the push and pull of his thick fingers, caught between surrender and defiance. But his rhythm insists and persists.

You bob your head stupidly, a jerky up and down. The room around you is spinning, arousal the wine that trickles through your system, usual sharpened edges blurring.

You're lost, but sure.

"Let me have it, then." Your thighs quiver atop his, trying to squeeze together, to keep him right there, right there, there—

All you ever have to do is ask him, pet.

There's a snap, a feeling of something giving way, and your mind floods white.

All you've ever got to do is ask.

It takes you a bit to come back to earth from the dizzying heights you were launched to. The buzzing in your mind, your ears, beneath your skin, begins to quiet. Vivid turns muted, colors and sounds dull.

Simon quickly lowers his joggers, just enough to take himself out and tugs his painfully hardened cock a couple of times, an unsteady twist of his wrist and he lets out a groan behind grit teeth as he comes. Warmth coats your puffy cunt, dribbling down your thighs and onto the bench.

When Simon leads you out of the locker room, Kyle looks at the both of you with a solemn expression on his face. His stance is rigid, the lines of his body drawn taut. It sets you on edge.

"Ghost," he nods. "Johnny's fightin' the big freak that had his paws all over your girl. Tried to talkin' him out o' it, but you know better than anyone how he is."

You know Johnny can handle his own. Always has. But this time, it feels different. Inevitable. Why?

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #simon riley

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qcomicsy · 10 hours

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Old Deadpool comics are so fun because it's like having this weird close friend group where people kind of all know each other but don't really know each other. Or even like each other that much.

Like Wade has a kind-of-who-knows-at-this-point "Best" friend tech guy who kind of tolerates him and he tolerates that used to be Peter's college classmate. He almost took a gig from Osborn but actually was Bullseye fucking with him in revenge while dressed up in a Clint old suit. He got on a mission with Black Widow. He got beef with Avengers clones to a point the avengers themselves got to be involved. They don't like him he doesn't like them so they both agree to be civil to do the damn mission so everyone can go their own way. He's having a middle age crisis where he kind of wants to quit being a mercenary but he doesn't know yet who the fuck else he could be and all the reasons pointing up to be a hero are wrong and distorted in his own egoistic views.

A hit monkey want to fuckin kill him. The hit monkey doesn't know he's immortal. The hit-monkey never saw him personally but somehow set him up to get his jaw sucker punched by Spider-Man. Which results in the worst team ever for both of them. I sweat to god except from fucking Old man Logan, I've never seen Wade so stressed in working with someone. And while this whole shit storm works, Wade keeps bullshitting about Peter's life being so fucking easy and loved by the public and Peter has to stay there and listen to it. They bump into each other on the subway out of costume and Peter hates him on sight.

Wade doesn't want to be there and the first opportunity to bail on Spider-Man he takes it and Spider-Man on the other hand learns that Deadpool is immortal and kind of gets "Okay what if we let you get shot" and Wade is so offended he starts calling him names.

Wade goes to bother X-Men, X-men tells him to fuck off. Wade considers blowing up X-Men for full two panels. X-Men sends Domino who's kind of one of Wade's friend to fuck with Deadpool, we're convinced by two pages he beat the shit out of her, just to show up on the next pages that he actually made her fall over a bunch of pancakes.

It's so messy, it's so fucking funny because it's not "oh it's this BIG THING" and this "BIG TEAM UP" it's like they're on the same city, they have similar jobs of course they're going to bump on each other.

#Deadpool #q rambles #Deadpool 2008 #aalso is very early 2008 so unfortunately it has a lot of bullshit it's auch a fucking shame Deadpool writers #are to busy trying to reinvent him or making the 7th fourth wall breaking joke and brining concepts that have no fucking sense to his canno #instead of just taking the good stuf and old background characters and make something good out of it #I only forgive Mx Wong for actually writing him in an endeared way but if I could nuke the monster's arc bullshit of his cannon I'd so do i #I'd so do it #HE'S JUST A GUY #HE'S JUST A MERCENARY #LET HIM BE A MERCENARY #FUCK SAKE #“oh kind of the monsters–” I'm taking your pen I am taking your pen right now I al breaking your computer WHO THE FUCK got this idea from #the kind of rejected X-Men kind of fucked around and find out random mercenary of new york city and canada #and whatever else place that pays the best

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beansricejc · 2 days

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coworkers with benefits [jw x f!reader blurb]

cw: mentions of blood, implied v!olence, cursing, spice

john and you were accidentally assigned the same job, by the whoever the hell has the money to do so.

and unfortunately for John- you have a way better in since he isn’t a pretty woman in a bottle girl outfit. champagne in hand, tiny denim shorts that have everyone turning their heads. the cropped shirt that accentuate your pushed up tits.

when you walk past him you barely notice the predator in the flashing lights. his wolf like eyes planted on you, and only you. your history with John is complicated. too much to go into detail about.

let’s just say he’s memorized the taste of your cunt.

you curse to yourself when you see his outline on the dance floor, walking a bit quicker to the VIP lounge. you’ve planted a gun under the coffee table of the lounge, and everything is going to plan.

five minutes into you being behind those velvet curtains, you reach beneath the table. your small hand pats around quickly, eyes widening when the thought occurs to you. someone’s found and taken your gun.

but who?!

one of the men you’re contracted to kill shouts at you in some sort of language, probably European.

bang, bang, bang.

your body instinctively tucks and rolls, ducking behind the couch as all of the men in the lounge fall dead. one is fairly close to you as the pool of blood inches its way over to your feet.

“you can come out now.” john’s voice echoes out, you’re hating the fact that he stole this job from under you. grunting - you stand up, glaring across the room at the hitman in his freshly pressed black suit.

“seriously? did you take my gu-“

“yeah. i did. around 8 this morning.” he interrupts, flashing you a shit eating smirk while sauntering over to your scantily clad self. you huff out in annoyance, his hand grabbing your chin to force you to look up at his striking form. the face of death peering over you.

you’re good at your profession. you’ll just never be him.

“i think you owe me.”

“what?!”

your throat is sore while you blabber out his name. after being throat fucked for about ten minutes on the couch, you’re now filling yourself with john’s deliciously sized cock. thighs at work as you bounce, he groans and bites your shoulder as he watches his dick disappear in and out of your weeping cunt.

your bare legs chafe against his expensive dress pants, letting out a cry of pain and bliss from his love bite. john’s sharp teeth draws the smallest bit of blood, although he makes up for it by giving your soft flesh some suction with his chapped lips. that will definitely result in a hickey tomorrow.

no one has even come in to check on the lounge from the gunshots because of how damn loud it is, due to the DJ insistent on breaking the noise ordinance in the city. that’s perfectly fine with you two. neither of you know how to keep your damn mouths shut while you fuck like rabid animals.

his rough hands paw at your hips, assisting you in slamming down onto his length. ensuring your walls are able to swallow every damn inch of him. a string of curse words and whimpers fall from your mouth, along with some drool that dribbles onto his dress shirt. (which is now soaked in sweat).

his cock twitches, and your cunt squeezes it half to death. the burning in your core becomes unbearable. john’s right hand switches from your hip to your clit. much to your embarrassment, he knows your pussy like the back of his hand. 2 of his calloused fingers massage that needy nub of yours, sending you over the edge within seconds.

your climax hits you like a truck, your body overcome with a feeling of euphoria as he continues to thrust his cock up into you. your vision even goes dark as the overstimulation gets to you.

“that’s it, let it happen.” his grumbly voice praises you. “there you go. shit- i should jeopardize your missions more often.”

yeah don’t ask- i threw this together in 20 min

#john wick #keanu reeves #jw #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu #john wick imagine #don’t mind me

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subfootboii · 17 hours

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"You're literally a faggot, what do your mean you're not into feet? Other faggots will do anything to be in your place. I don't think you have much of a choice roomie. You either submit to me as my foot faggot and serve me as I command, or you got the fuck out of here. You haven't paid your rent in two months, and you can't keep a job for one week. You're a loser and a failure. A faggot. If I have to be the only man in this house than you should my loyal faggot. What's your choice?"

It was a tough choice. He was right you weren't working or able to keep any job you find. You're spending everyday gooning over men and porn while he works to covers the expanses.

"Your right. I'm a faggot. But... look at how filthy your soles are. Why should I lick them? I beg you anything else."

"Listen to me you stupid gooner. You could clean this house twice every day instead of jerking off to porn, so my filthy feet are a result of you being a loser. From now on you'll goon to me only. I want you to spend every single second I'm home pumping while you look at me and my feet. I'll make you love my feet. As for when I'm at work you'll be locked and tasked to clean the house and prepare dinner. Clear?"

"Clear..."

"Great. Now my feet. One hour. I need them shining."

You got to your knees and the aura of his feet hit your nose. It wasn't intense but it made you gag. You stuck your tongue and started licking his soles. They warm with dried sweat covering them and dirt stuck to them.

"Good fag. See you don't need to be into feet to lick them. All it takes us to be a gooner faggot. Now take that dick of yours out and pump it for me."

You followed his commands and started jerking off and licking his feet harder than before.

"Yeah that's a good boy. Don't you dare cum before I allow you to. Just pump and lick."

An hour later you've licked his feet clean and you've been edging for a long time and you can't hold it anymore.

"Good job fag. Now cum all over your body and then go sit on the corner. Use the cum as lube and start jerking off again, and again. Until I go to sleep. Eyes on my feet only fag."

#filthy soles #roommate's feet

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ros3ybabes · 1 day

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🎀 Workout Youtubers

I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!

With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333

🩷 Pilates

Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)

Madeleine Abeid

IsaWelly

Pilatesbodyraven

Lidia Mera

Lottie Murphy

Amanda Blauer

Margaret Elizabeth

Jessica Valant Pilates

Bailey Brown

Dansique Fitness

Flow with Mira

Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)

🩷 Yoga

Yoga with Adriene *

Yoga with Bird

Boho Beuatiful Yoga

🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT

Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)

Blogilates

Pamela Reif *

Madfit *

Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)

Emi Wong

Shirlyn Kim

Vivian Yuan

April Han

growingannanas

growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)

Hinafit

Mish Choi

Sami Clarke

Elenifit

Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)

Caroline Girvan

TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS

Daisy Keech

🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own

Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!

Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.

Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.

3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!

Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.

Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.

🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy

Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice

Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!

Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one

Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho

Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts

Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.

Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.

That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.

hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.

til next time lovelies 🩷

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a-killer-obsession · 2 days

Text

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 14 - Alone, Together - Part 2

Island antics continue. It's time, Killer stans 😏

WC: ~5.5k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

Two chapters today because I am a benevolent god

Days 3 - 5

By day four a routine had settled in place. Killer would wake up first, put his mask back on, and get a fire going. You'd eat the leftover dried boar, then you'd head to the stream to get water, holding it in a large leaf and using your devil fruit to boil and cool it, dysentery was not the vibe. On day three you had successfully woven a fishing trap out of vines and dried grasses, and you set it in the stream, weighed down by stones. It caught a couple of fish, but not enough to entirely satisfy your hunger. You'd gathered some fruit, but there weren't many on the island that either of you recognised and you'd both rather not spend your time on the island shitting your guts out by eating something dodgy. Killer had spent his time tracking down some bamboo and using broken rocks to break it down, breaking it into smaller sections so he could transport water back to the cave. It was easier as well for you to disinfect the water inside the bamboo, many a leaf had been accidentally set fire previously, resulting in several near misses with boiling water. It rained on and off, but thankfully there hadn't been any more harsh storms yet. They were expected though, so the two of you had built somewhat of a lean-to against the cave, in case the rain decided to go horizontal.

In the evenings it had become normal for you to cuddle up against Killer to sleep. Neither of you talked about it, it was just necessary for your survival, given you were still somewhat skin and bones. That's what he told himself anyway every night, when you gave him butterflies by intertwining your fingers and holding them over your heart. He slept without his mask, and out of respect you slept facing away from him. It was always back on before you woke.

Day 6

The air was hot and humid today, and the two of you were sweating bullets. Killer hadn't built a fire this morning, it was too hot anyway. You went to the stream early, desperate to cool off. You'd immediately stripped to your panties and jumped in the second you arrived, and Killer followed suit, more uncomfortable with the scorching heat than the idea of being mostly undressed around you. You both sighed in relief as the cold fresh water enveloped your bodies, washing away the thick layer of sweat. You wished you could float around on your back, but given your devil fruit the best you could do was lay in the shallows. Killer sat in the deeper middle of the stream, trying to avoid looking at your tits which seemed to be trying to float away. Perhaps devil fruits did not affect the breasts, or maybe they just hadn't got the memo.

“Let me wash your hair,” you suggested, bored now that you'd cooled down.

“No”

“But it's all tangled and full of leaves!” You pouted, “come onnnn Kil, I know how much you love your hair. I'll sit behind you and you can take your mask off, you know I won't peek”

He grumbled but you were right, not being able to wash or brush his hair was starting to piss him off, and he couldn't get all the crap out of it on his own without a decent stream of water. “Fine,” he conceded. You squealed gleefully and waded over to him, sitting behind him and starting to pull the twigs and leaves out of his hair while he removed his mask. You carefully finger combed his long blond locks, being a finger comb professional from your time locked up, scissoring your fingers to loosen the tangles. It took a long time, but when you felt his hair was as tidy as you could manage you used one of the bamboo segments to pour water on his head, massaging his scalp to work the sand and salt out of it. He couldn't deny that it felt good, he couldn't remember the last time someone had massaged his head or even threaded their fingers through his hair. It felt almost domestic as you worked your way from top to bottom. When you were done you plaited it into one thick braid to keep it from tangling, and tied it off with a small piece of vine.

You were finished but he stayed where he was for a while longer, and you rested your head against his back. If someone had asked either of you what you were doing, you would have given the excuse that you were just avoiding getting out of the cold water, but it wouldn't be the truth, both enjoying the subtle intimacy of sitting close while the stream quietly trickled by.

The fish trap was empty today, so you returned to camp empty handed. Killer had intended on hunting, but a scan of the area with your devil fruit found that the wild pigs had become aware of the two of you and cleared out, and he didn't have the energy to walk far enough to reach them in this heat.

Finally the temperature dropped as the sun started setting, a blessed rain beginning to fall and cool the air around you as you both settled in to sleep.

You rested your back against a tree, you simply couldn't take it anymore, your thighs rubbing together in wanton need. Seeing him almost naked and serene in the stream, playing with his hair while he unknowingly hummed to himself, smelling his musk and feeling his warm arms around you every night. It was too much, you couldn't hold off any longer. You slipped your hand into your panties, holding the tree for support as you circled your clit and bit back moans.

You didn't hear the silent footsteps as they approached, lost in your bliss, and almost screamed as he appeared beside you, replacing your hand with his own. “Let me help you,” he whispered in his usual baritone, his voice coming out more sultry than usual, his breath hot against your neck. He wasn't wearing his mask, and he pressed wet kisses against your jaw as he slid a finger inside you, your legs spreading instinctually for him, craving him. You turned your head to meet him and he answered with a hungry kiss, delving his tongue deep inside your mouth to fight yours.

“Killer~” you whispered.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered back, “you make me fucking crazy”

He pumped you a few more times before turning you around to press your front against the tree. He slid your panties down and pulled his pants away from his straining erection, hiking up your nightie and pressing his cock against your hot wet centre. It slid against your folds and your silk coated his eager cock. “I've waited so long to do this,” he groaned as he slid inside you, filling you completely with his thick length.

Your legs shook as he thrust into you, a pleasant fire spreading through your abdomen with every pump as he took you with a desperate need, just as hungry for you as you were for him.

“Killer, fuck I'm- I'm gonna-”

You woke up panting, spooking Killer who was laying behind you. Unknowingly you had already woken him earlier, your soft whimpers in your sleep making him think you were having a nightmare, before you quietly moaned his name and his eyes had widened. He didn't mean to keep listening, but his cock insisted he did. Your firm grip on his hand and the way you'd unconsciously ground your ass against him in your sleep hadn't helped the situation either.

It was obvious as soon as you came to your senses that he was awake, his breathing was heavier than it should be and you could feel his obvious erection against your ass. You whimpered as you pushed back against him, eliciting a small warning growl from him. You couldn't help it, you were so fucking horny and he was so close to pressing right where you wanted him.

You moved his hand, placing it over your mound, a clear plea for him to touch you. “No,” he told you sternly, attempting to pull it away. You held it firmly, insisting with another whimper.

“Please Kil”

“I can't. We can't”

“Why? I want you, and I know you want me”

“I'm no good for you,” he sighed, “we can't cross that line”

“Can't we just pretend? Just for now,” you asked sadly, “can't I just for once in my miserable life feel what it's like to be wanted?”

His stance faulted as he heard the deep pang of loneliness in your voice. “Turn around,” he sighed.

You were hesitant, but did so anyway, your eyes firmly shut. “You can… look…” he whispered, like he was trying to convince himself as well. You opened just one eye at first, then both, eyes wide as you took in his sharp blue eyes and his handsome features. His lips had a deep cupid's bow and looked stained, like they were usually painted purple and years of lipstick had left a permanent tint. His eyes were framed by thick lashes, and his messily cut bangs fell to his eyebrows. By any account he would be considered beautiful. You let out a soft gasp and stroked his cheek carefully, entirely in disbelief that you were looking at his real face and that this is what he looked like.

“Kil…” you whispered, your eyes flicking between his eyes and his lips.

“Just till we leave the island, okay?” He insisted, “I mean it, I'm no good for you, we're done when we leave here”

You gave him a small nod and he pulled you a little closer, rubbing his nose against yours tenderly before closing his eyes and pressing a soft experimental kiss against your mouth. You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your hands through his hair. You both felt the sudden spark of need and he tilted his head to kiss you deeper, slipping his tongue in your mouth and groaning as you immediately pressed yours against it. He hadn't kissed in years so he was rusty, but you didn't mind, overcome by a desperate desire to taste and feel him.

You draped your leg over his, opening yourself to him, and this time he didn't need the encouragement to run his hand down your front, tugging on your nightie and sliding his hand under the waistband of your panties. You let out a harsh breath as his fingers made first contact with your clit, and he grunted into your mouth at how wet you already were for him, it must have been a very nice dream. You mirrored him, palming him first over his pants before teasing your fingers under the top of his sweatpants and underwear. He groaned as you wrapped your hand around his thick cock, stroking it with an even, firm pressure, focusing on the base. For a moment you both had to stop kissing, your faces pressed into each other's shoulders as you panted at each other's groping.

Suddenly overcome with the need for more, you removed your hand from his pants and pressed both of them against his chest, forcing him onto his back. His hands left your panties only momentarily to pull them off, before you straddled him and he slid a finger deep inside you. Your head fell to his chest in a deep groan and he added a second, pumping you firmly while you kissed and nipped at his neck, tasting his sweat and feeling his fast pulse just under the skin. You pushed his shirt up, forcing him to remove his hand again so he could remove it, before he helped you remove your nightie. You kissed down his bare chest, kitten licking his well defined muscles and breezing your tongue over his nipples as you made your way to his centre. As you got closer you pulled at his pants, bringing them down so you were both naked in the quiet cave, your skin bare against the makeshift mattress beneath you. The dry leaves scratched your skin, but you were both so lost in the heat and arousal that neither paid it any mind.

You enthusiastically took his erection in your hand and ran your tongue up the underside, then twirled it around the head, lapping at the leaking precum. He tried to bite back moans but couldn't help himself when he looked down to find you watching his face keenly, keeping eye contact with him as his cock disappeared into your mouth. It was clear to him immediately that you enjoyed giving, making little moans and whimpers around him as his thick cock stretched your lips to their limit and both of your hands wrapped around the base.

You were impatient though, your pussy clenching around nothing as you thought about how much you wanted him inside you, so you let him go with a pop and crawled back up his body. He shivered as he saw how dark and hungry your eyes were. You straddled him and grinded your bare, wet cunt against his length, and he pulled you down for a desperate kiss.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” He mumbled between heavy breaths.

“More than anything,” you replied, sucking on his neck.

“Let me take care of you then,” he said softly, sliding one hand around your waist and the other around your shoulders, gently tilting you so you lay on your back underneath him. Your legs spread wide open for him, soft whimpers escaping you as your hips raised to try and meet him. “Shh,” he kissed your whimpers away, lining himself up. You moaned quietly as his fat tip pressed against your eager entrance. “If you want to stop just tell me okay?”

You nodded and held his shoulders for support, and he kept eye contact with you as he slid inside, scanning your face for any signs of pain. You were too distracted by his beautiful, unfamiliar face and the delicious fullness to feel pain, your pussy giving way immediately like you were made for him. He grunted as he bottomed out, and you let out a harsh breath.

“You okay?” He asked softly, doing his best to hold back from immediately slamming into you at his normal pace. He was completely sunk into you, held so tight by your hot walls, he thought he might die then and there.

“Kil, please~” you whined, trying desperately to move your hips. He groaned at the friction and took the hint. It wasn't lost on him that this was your first real time, so he pumped you slow and deep, letting you just enjoy the feeling of being filled by someone who truly cared for you. Your eyes stayed locked together as he made love to you, your eyes swimming with devotion and adoration as he pushed a stray strand of lilac hair from your face and kissed you deeply.

Your legs wrapped around him, your heels pressing against his ass to encourage him to move faster. He was eager to give your the same rough fuck that he enjoyed with every other woman, but you were special. There was something intense and intimate about being with you, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He was savouring the slow, satisfying pull of your walls on him, increasing his pace only slightly out of unified desperation for more. Your moans synced with his grunts, every heavy thrust making you whine and claw at his back as he moved faster still, chasing your high and his own.

He knew you were close when your nails sunk into his back, leaving deep half moon indents, and your pussy clenched around him. He pumped you harder, forcing you to let go of your coil, and the leaves below you grew wet with your release as you came hard, calling his name like he was the god you worshipped. His name on your sweet lips pulled him over the edge and he released deep inside you, trying his best to keep moving despite how oversensitive he was now, trying to work you through your orgasm til you were sated.

Finally your grip on him loosened, and he helped you carefully lay flat against the leaves again. “Don't pull out yet, please…” you whimpered, holding him close. Years of being used and immediately abandoned weighed heavily on your mind, and he could see that anxiety in your eyes. He rested his weight against you, his head buried in your shoulder, while your fingers massaged his scalp lovingly. You stayed like that for a while, just listening to each other's breaths and enjoying still being connected. He'd never bothered to cockwarm with any of the one night stands he'd had, but right now he felt like a missing puzzle piece inside you, and it felt right, even if it was just to ease your mind.

“I need to pull out now Yin,” he sighed after an age of quiet cuddling, not wanting to remove his soft cock from you either, but his muscles were cramping from trying not to crush you. He slid out slowly, and you whined at the emptiness.

He laid on his side as he usually did to sleep, not bothering to put his clothes back on. The night was fairly warm, he could do without. He pulled you tight against his chest, and you enjoyed the freedom of being able to face him for once as you nuzzled into him, feeling entirely satisfied and fulfilled.

Day 7

The next day when you woke up you were surprised to find Killer still without his mask. He hadn't gotten up before you as he usually would either, instead still laying beside you, counting the small freckles on your face while you slept. Your eyes fluttered open and found his blue ones staring directly at you, and you smiled and kissed him softly, sighing into his mouth as you wrapped around him.

“You're so beautiful,” you sighed, running a tender thumb over his cheek, “I don't understand why you wear the mask”

“I don't like my smile,” he replied sadly.

“Oh,” you ran a finger over his lips, “every smile is beautiful though, Killer, they're a mark of our joy. We should never take that for granted”

He stung his heart to remember that you had probably gone years without smiling, and he felt stupid for hiding his for superficial reasons while you had been suffering. “Is that why you suppress your laugh as well? Sorry, I don't mean to pry, I just want to know you”

“It's an ugly laugh,” he confessed.

“Well, I hope you'll let me hear it some day,” you pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, “I understand though, I have things I hide too. Did you know my visor doesn't need to be tinted like that?”

“Oh?” the admission surprised him.

“I didn't see my eyes affected by the fruit properly till the first mask prototype, and when I looked in the mirror and saw them I ripped it off immediately,” you explained, “I refused to wear it again till they did something to cover them. They're awful”

“I think they're cool,” he mused. It was the truth, since the first time he'd seen them he'd associated them with your bloodlust and raw power, the same things that turned him on that day in the jail cell. Though he could see how a normal person wouldn't make the same association. “And not to be cliché but the pink looks nice with your purple hair”

“Thanks Kil,” you cuddled in to his chest, “most people just say they're gross”

“They're unique to you,” he mused, “and they look like that because you have an incredible power. You should flaunt it”

“Mmm, maybe one day,” you mumbled in to his chest, “maybe when you stop hiding too”

“Guess we'll just have to stay hidden together then,” he cooed.

“Mmm”

It was warm again today, the humidity made worse by the short rainstorm last night, so naturally you both headed to the stream again. Killer carried his mask with him, just in case, but didn't put it back on. His other hand held yours as they walked in comfortable silence, fingers intertwined.

He had no problem being naked in front of you today, the dam had already broken, so for this short while he'd allow himself to let down his guard and enjoy his time with you, before you were both forced back to reality. Today he washed your hair, sitting in the shallows while you laid your head in his lap. He was sure you fell asleep for a while but it was fine, you looked so content and serene as he worked the tangles out of your hair and plaited it like you'd done for him. He admired his own braid while you snoozed in his lap, pulling it to his front and running his hand over it. It was a tender reminder of how much you cared. He hadn't asked you to braid it, but you knew his hair was precious to him so you'd done it to help keep it free of tangles and protect it. It was a small thing, but it gave him butterflies anyway.

“Your smile is pretty, Killer,” you whispered softly. He hadn't even noticed your eyes opening as he'd been musing over his braid, smiling to himself. The smile was replaced with surprise and embarrassment, his cheeks immediately going pink. You faltered at the sudden change in expression and sat up, climbing into his lap to kneel either side of his legs and holding his face gently in your hands. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything,” you kissed the corners of his mouth, “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable baby”

You ran your hand down his braid and admired it, his hair was thick so the braid was decently wide. “I wish my hair grew as thick and lovely as yours”

“That's not the only thick, lovely thing I have,” he smirked, pushing up against you as he pressed your hips down to meet him. You yelped at first at the sudden jostling but started to giggle as you understood the joke.

“I'm well aware!” You laughed, making yourself more comfortable straddling him, letting your ass rest against his thighs.

“You didn't make me uncomfortable,” he said, turning more tender now and kissing along your jaw, then down your neck, “I just wasn't expecting it. I thought you were asleep”

“Mmm, I was,” you purred, tilting your head away from him to give him more access to your neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and scratching his scalp pleasantly. It was easy to tell he hadn't had his head touched in a long time and clearly enjoyed it when you did it. “You make a very comfy pillow”

“Five star accommodations,” he smiled in to your neck and sucked a little harder, making you whine and roll your hips against him, “I appreciate the honest review”

“Kil~” you mumbled as his hands found your hips again and encouraged your to roll against his growing erection, “ahh, fuck~”

“You're so wet already,” he mused, feeling the difference in friction as your slick core rubbed against him, “so wet for me, such a good girl”

You whined at his praises and your hips rolled with careful movements to try and catch his tip, pushing down on to him to bully his cock inside your tight pussy. You were underprepared but you wanted him so bad, and you whimpered at the almost painful stretch as you adjusted.

“Hnng, Yin, fuck,” he mumbled in to your neck, “good girl~”

You whined and started to raise yourself on his length, rolling your hips to slide him in and out of you, and it was quickly clicking with him that it was his praise that was making you so impatient. “You like being praised, baby?” He purred, supporting your hips to aid your movements, “you like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Mmm,” you moane, “y-yes”

He pulled your face close so his mouth was at your ear, a new fire sparked knowing the control he had over you now. “Be a good girl for me and bend over a rock sweetheart,” he purred.

You did as you were told immediately, standing and letting his hard cock slip out of you, and bending over one of the large stones at the water's edge. You presented your ass eagerly for him, and he admired your exposed pussy for a moment before grabbing your hips and slamming back into you. You yelped as his heavy thrusts pushed you against the stone, holding it for support as he fucked you considerably harder than yesterday. Your eyes were practically rolling back in your head as the new angle filled you deliciously and left his heavy length pressing hard against your sensitive g-spot.

“Such a good girl for me,” he growled as he thrusted into you, “so tight and wet for me, you take me so well princess”

The nickname made you sparkle and you moaned deep, reaching back to grab his thighs and sink your nails in as he fucked you, “good girl, just like that, hold on tight princess”

He reached his hand around and played with your clit, the other hand groping your tits as he pulled you up to stand flush against him. You moaned unabashedly and he grunted in your ear, every hard thrust making your coils pull tighter.

“Let go sweetheart, cum for me princess,” he moaned, dangerously close to his own climax but not wanting to let himself finish till you'd gotten yours. You screamed as you came hard, the combination of penetration and clit stimulation driving you insane as you shook, Killer groaning deeply and cumming hard inside you at the same time.

You both slumped forward and rested against the rock till he finally pulled out, sitting in the shallow water next to you and pulling you down to sit across his lap. He scattered kisses over your cheeks and nose and forehead and it made you erupt in giggles.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sighed as the kiss attack finally came to an end.

“I know,” he pressed his nose into the top of your head and inhaled your sweet scent, “but this could never work between us, back on the ship”

You sighed sadly and curled up against him. “I don't understand why”

“I'm no good for you, like that,” he explained, “I'm too fucked up. And Kid is always going to be my priority, you deserve someone who can put you first”

“It's not fair,” you mumbled.

“I know, life hasn't ever been fair to you,” he sighed, “but I'll still be around. It's not like I'm disappearing forever. We just can't be… this”

“I know,” you whispered, “I just wish things were different”

“So do I,” he sighed.

Day 12

The next four days passed with a new routine. Killer never put his mask back on, and the monotonous dragging of the day was broken up by love making, clinging to what little time you had left together. On day eight Killer had set out to hunt a little further away, bringing back a large boar that had fed you both well, the dried remains and miscellaneous fruits seeing you through the following days.

Killer had ventured out again today, hoping this was the last time he'd need to hunt. It had already been longer than he thought, and you were both growing anxious. His wandering found him at the shore, somewhere he hadn't ventured since first sinking into the jungle, and he scanned the horizon quickly with a hopeful eye.

It was so small in the distance, he almost missed it. He shielded his eyes from the sun to get a better look. Sure enough, he hadn't mistaken it. It was a ship, no doubt, and while it was too far to make out the jolly roger he swore he saw a flash of red on the sail. He let himself laugh properly for once, relief washing over him that rescue was finally imminent.

He turned tail and sprinted through the jungle, abandoning his spear; he had no need for it now. You had been gathering firewood and stopped in your tracks as you heard his quick approach, wondering at first if a boar was about to attack you before spotting his wild blond hair trailing behind him in the fresh braid you'd put it in this morning.

“They're here!” He shouted, scooping you up and spinning you around in the air, “we're going home!”

You smiled at his unabashed joy but there was a hint of sadness to your expression. Of course you wanted off this island, you wanted real food and a soft bed and a hot shower and you dearly missed Heat. But the ship arriving meant it was time to give up the game you'd been playing. He picked up his helmet to put it on, noticing how you were frozen where he'd put you down, a small frown on your face.

“Yin..” he said softly.

“It's okay Kil, it was always going to end eventually, right?” You forced a smile for him, “let's just go home.” You set off in the direction he'd come from, not daring to look at him, at risk of crying if you did.

He followed behind you somberly, not putting his mask on just yet as he tried to find the words to comfort you. This hurt was his own doing, and he couldn't deny that he was hurting too. The last week had made him realise just how deep his feelings for you ran, but at the end of the day he was still the same scared, insecure man he always had been once he stepped foot back on the ship, and he knew couldn't open up properly to you. You didn't deserve that, you deserved someone who could give you everything, the whole world on a silver platter. He couldn't give that to you. Still, he felt like his heart was shattering, watching you walk towards the ship, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Yin, stop,” he begged, grabbing your wrist delicately. You stopped walking but turned away as he tried to stand in front of you. Your eyes were pricking with tears and it made his heart sting to know it was because of him. He held your cheek gently, forcing you to look at him, before pressing a hard kiss to your lips. He felt your wet tears as they streamed down your face and caught on your lips as he held you there, before finally letting go and pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry Yin, I'm so sorry I can't be what you need”

“It's okay Kil,” you sniffed, pushing him away and forcing another smile for him, “in another life, aye?”

You kept moving and he followed behind you, there was nothing more he could say or do to fix your broken heart now, or his.

You didn't have to spend long sitting in awkward silence on the beach before the Victoria Punk was close enough to drop a small dingy, with Kid, Heat and Wire rowing it to close the rest of the distance to the shore. The two of you met them at the edge of the water, Wire holding the boat in place so the waves couldn't steal it while Kid wrapped his arms around Killer, and Heat enveloped you in an almost crushing hug that lifted you off the ground with a small squeak. He threw you over his shoulder to carry you back to the dingy, “I'm not letting you out of my sight again young lady,” he laughed, giving your ass a small playful smack.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Killer grumbled as Kid finally let him go.

“Main mast came down in the storm,” Kid grumbled, “took the lazy cunts ages to repair it”

“Anyone else go overboard?” He asked.

“Nah, just you two dumbasses,” he laughed, smacking Killer on the back, “come on, we're having a feast tonight, you two look like fucking twigs”

“I was already a twig, thank you very much,” you poked your tongue out at Kid and he smacked you on the head with a flat hand. It was just as well your injury had all this time to heal.

“Yeah and we're still gonna fatten you up eventually,” he roared as he jumped into the dingy, “let's get the fuck out of here, you two smell like shit”

[NEXT CHAPTER] - link soon

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

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