Are You Still Taking Requests For Kenny (Were The Millers)?

are you still taking requests for Kenny (We’re The Millers)?

Of course! He's baby😊

Hole In One - Bobby Jones

I have brain rot. Why Didn't They Ask Evans? was amazing, Will did a fantastic job as Bobby and a fantastic job at making me horny

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, and major fluff

2.4K Words🤙🏻

~~~~~~~~~~

Walking along the steep cliffs and hills of your local golf course, you held in a deep annoyed sigh as you attempted to keep up with your boyfriend and long time best friend, Bobby, as he walked ahead of you with much more energy than you had. He had somehow convinced you that golfing would be a good date, even though you didn’t care much for the sport and you weren’t the best at it.

“Come on, love, we’re almost there!” Bobby called out.

You rolled your eyes, why a golf course was at the top of a cliff, you’d never understand; having to walk to get to each of the holes was strenuous enough. “We couldn’t have, I don’t know, gone to the cinema or something that didn’t require working out? Dracula’s Daughter just came out, I think.”

“Sitting inside of a dark theater for an hour, when it’s such a beautiful day? And you know I don’t fancy horror films, it makes me sweat.”

“Well, I’m about to start sweating walking up this godforsaken hill.” You snarked, a light blush coming to your face as Bobby gave you a playful warning glare at your attitude. This definitely wasn’t that kind of date, but it was hard to ignore the sudden throbbing at the apex of your thighs; and the polo shirt that hugged Bobby’s torso perfectly, showing off his muscular build, wasn’t exactly alleviating the problem. “Why couldn’t you have a passion for a different sport, like football? I can play football better than golf. I’d rather kick a ball with my feet than hit one with a heavy club.”

Bobby cackled. “I can’t imagine you playing football.”

“My dad was fond of it, taught me everything he knows. Put me in a pair of trousers and I’ll be able to best any man.”

“You do that enough already.” He smirked handsomely, giving you a chaste kiss on your temple. If he kept doing stuff like that you might just have to take him right on the golf field. Seeing his muscles flex as he swung his golf club, god, you could feel yourself soaking your undergarments. You flinched when he snapped his fingers in front of your face to snap you out of your trance, his amused face causing you to scowl slightly. “Enjoying the view, darling?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You huffed, trying to come off more teasing but it was clear you were too flustered to do anything much less flirt.

“It’s your turn. Hey, if you ever make a hole in one swing, I might just let you best me at football.” He whispered in your ear as he handed you your club, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You scoffed. “Let me? You couldn’t beat me even if you tried.” You snatched the club out of his hands a little too harshly, smirking when Bobby gave you a surprised but amused expression.

It seemed easy enough, just swing and hit the ball. Couldn’t be that hard, right? Well, you were quickly disproven by how much the ball went in the wrong direction you wanted it to go. Instead of going straight like you wanted, it swayed to the left. You hoped it was just the wind. You would just have to try again.  You huffed as you swung your club and completely missed the ball, only managing to violently remove a clump of grass and dirt. You bit your lip when you heard Bobby snickering behind your back, definitely watching you fail at such a simple game with an amused grin on his stupidly handsome face. “This is impossible. How do you make it look so easy?” You whined, lightly stomping your foot like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

"Here," Bobby sighed, walking over to you, "let me help you." 

Situating himself behind you, you tried not to shiver as his hands slowly traveled down your arms until they positioned themselves to cover your own, grasping gently. You could feel goosebumps rise all over your body as you felt his steady breathing on your neck, looking over your shoulder with ease. "Now, you'll need to pivot your right foot as you swing, like this-" He pushed your right heel out with his own foot, guiding your arms and body to twist with him as he made you swing the club. "It's simple really, just takes technique and practice." And he pulled away all too soon, his warmth leaving your back as he took a few steps back and motioned for you to try it without his help.

After having him so close to you, you were surprised you were even standing straight. How were you supposed to focus now? The feeling of his pelvis brushed up against your ass still echoed in your mind and you found yourself wanting to feel that again, and even more. Though you tried your best and swung, the club connected with the ball but your swing was too weak, the white urethane rolling down the grassy hill. “Well, that was a…start.” Bobby chuckled.

“Oh, shut it, Jones.” You quipped, quickly making your way down the hill to find your ball, not looking back just to see his mocking smile. “I don’t think I’ll be getting you to play football any time soon, at the rate I’m going.”

“Ah, it’s okay. It’s practically impossible to make a hole in one at the course, what with the steep hills and such. Maybe I should’ve started you in the beginner’s course.”

You scowled once more. “Isn’t that for children?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

After finding the ball, you dreaded making a fool of yourself more than you already had, so you decided to do what you do best: flustering your boyfriend. “Can you guide me one more time? Just so I don’t accidentally hit the ball into the ocean.” You chuckled, hiding a mischievous smirk as he took the bait. Always such a gentleman. You took a deep breath as he moved to stand right behind you and resumed the same position he had you in previously, your heart pounding, hoping that he won’t reject your advances.

You heard Bobby inhale sharply as you wiggled your hips against his pelvis, his grip on your hands tightening. “What do you think you’re doing, darling?” He asked darkly, the tone in his voice that dropped a couple octaves went straight to your core. You said nothing as you responded to his question with another wiggle of your hips, pushing back harder against him. “And here I thought you genuinely wanted me to help you.” He grunted.

“Who says I don’t?” You replied seductively, straightening your spine and turning your head to whisper in his ear. “I just want you to help me in a different way.” You gently bit his earlobe, Bobby’s heavy sigh fanning against your shoulder.

“You know we’re in public, right?”

“Yes, and?”

“You want to risk someone seeing me making love to you?” You gasped when Bobby gripped onto your waist tightly, suddenly turning you around in his hold. “You’d like that, though, wouldn’t you? You want someone to see how cock drunk I make you? Is that it, darling?” You could already feel his erection pressing up against your leg, the knowledge that you could make him so hungry for you so easily made you feel lightheaded, your knees threatening to buckle.

“Yes.” You managed to whisper out breathlessly.

You gasped as Bobby suddenly connected his lips with yours, stealing the breath from your lungs from the feeling of his urgency, how desperate he was to feel all of you and you were just as needy. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass through your skirt, gingerly lifting up the fabric to cup your sex roughly, eliciting a satisfied groan from you. “Oh, darling, if you wanted me this badly you could’ve just said so.” He teased, moving your underwear to the side and running his fingers through your slippery folds, biting his lip at the feeling. “I want to taste you.” He spoke quickly before falling to his knees, his head hiding beneath your skirt.

Finally feeling his mouth connect to your cunt, you had to cover your mouth with one hand to keep yourself from moaning loudly, a moan that would surely echo throughout the cliffs and hills. Bobby kept a firm hand behind your back as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder to get a better angle, making sure you don’t fall over. You squeezed and grabbed at your breasts through your blouse as he lapped at your clit, sucking occasionally and making your eyes roll to the back of your head at the pleasure he was so expertly giving you. “I want you inside me.” You whispered, giggling as his head came out of your skirt, the evidence of your arousal making his lips shine.

You kneeled down to push Bobby on his back, straddling his legs as you undid the buckle of his trousers, pulling them off just enough for his cock to escape their confines. You smirked as Bobby’s eyes glossed over at the sight of you situating yourself over him, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds, grinding your clit on him briefly before finally sinking down on him slowly.

Bobby let out a deep groan as you guided his cock into your pussy, your velvety walls contracting at the intrusion, your slick and his saliva barely being enough to help force in the monstrosity that was his cock. “Fuck-!” You whined as he finally bottomed out, taking deep breaths to try to relax to help your cunt take him better, slowly grinding your hips down on him as he leaned up to kiss your neck. “Ah, fuck, you’re so big.” You giggled, your brows furrowing as the stretch turned pleasurable.

“You feel so amazing, darling.” Bobby moaned, keeping a firm grip on your hips as he laid back against the grass, breathing rapidly as you started to bounce yourself on his dick. You unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your tits out of your bra, the slight breeze making them harden as they came in contact with the air, making you let out a sharp exhale as Bobby leaned up to pinch one with one hand while he licked and sucked on the other.

You couldn’t keep your moans quiet as Bobby’s cock hit all the right places inside you, shocks of pleasure resonating throughout your core and a blush coming to your cheeks as the wind did nothing to hide the sounds that came from your cunt from said pleasure. “Oh, god.” You choked out, a squeal escaping your lips as Bobby took initiative and started to drill into you, both hands having a bruising hold on your hips as his expression contorted into one of focus. All you could do was hold on for the ride, gripping onto his shirt as the intense pleasure kept building and building until you couldn’t even form a single thought in your brain.

The tipping point came when Bobby suddenly rolled you over onto your back, switching places and allowing him to pound into you even harder. “Bobby, fuck-!” You almost screamed, your nails digging into his forearms that were still holding onto your waist. Your brain felt like putty at this point, your orgasm starting to burn through your core, lasting longer than you thought it would. You didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed about how much your pussy was dripping, splashing as Bobby’s dick gave you no mercy, feeling the droplets of your own cum splattering on your skin as well as his.

“So good for me, such a good girl.” You could faintly hear Bobby whisper, the praise going straight to your core even after having such an intense orgasm. His thrusts soon become sloppy and erratic, chasing his own high, using you like a lifeless ragdoll, you certainly felt like one. “Oh heavens, baby, I’m gonna come.” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing and a small droplet of sweat rolling down his neck.

“Ah-!” Bobby grunted, then letting out a breathy moan as his thrusting stilled, a whine of your own escaping your lips as you felt him fill you up with his warm cum. “Oh, Christ.” He exhaled, pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you limply.

You squinted as the sun came out from behind the clouds, a rarity in Wales, and lifted your hand to the sky to try and block the light from your eyes. You chuckled softly as Bobby reached up to grab ahold of your hand, interlocking your fingers. He leaned over and used his head to block out the sun, allowing you a perfect view of his flushed face, pushing your hand back down to the ground and planting a soft kiss on your lips.

You looked at Bobby lovingly as he delicately buttoned up your blouse, placing light kisses on your torso before each button. After pulling his trousers back up, he reached down and helped you on your feet, helping you straighten out your skirt and brushing off any grass that might’ve stuck to it. You gave him one more kiss before smoothing down his hair, his giddy smile making your already wobbly knees threaten to buckle yet again. The love you felt for the man was so all-encompassing you felt your heart was going to burst.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone finds us out.” Bobby snickered.

“Aw, I didn’t mean to cut the date short.” You smiled regretfully.

“Oh, trust me, you didn’t.” He smirked, taking your hand in his as you both started to walk back to your car together. “It was exciting. If we ever play football for one of our next dates, maybe we could do this again?”

You laughed. “Wow. One new experience and you’re already addicted, huh? Such a delinquent.”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me! You’re the one who tempted me in this first place, not that I’m complaining.” You squealed as he pinched your side teasingly, his grip on your hand not allowing you to recoil against his touch.

“Okay, okay!” You giggled. “Fine. I’m the delinquent. I accept that. But if we do end up playing football, I may not have a choice but to pounce on you if you end up looking as good as you do playing golf.”

“Well, that’s a risk I’ll be willing to take.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby is a power bottom, my opinion cannot be swayed.

AHHHH🥵

What a Brat Gets

Minors DNI 18+

So in the middle of answering my inbox prompts, I have created this filler masterpiece.

Summary: After a long day, you arrive home to a very horny Sebastian. Seb is a brat and really wants the both of you to take it straight to the bedroom, but you have to teach him a lesson in patience first.

AO3 Link -- WHAT A BRAT GETS – Link to my Fic Request Guide

Fandom: Ich Und Kaminski | Me and Kaminski (2015)

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI 18+

Relationships: Sebastian Zöllner x fem!Reader

Tags: Shameless Smut, sub!Sebastian, Femdom, Sebastian is a little brat, Overstimulation, but he loves it, Begging, prostate stimulation

Word Count: 1896

Warnings: no aftercare because I got lazy

You walked in with the groceries, knowing Sebastian would be home already. As you had predicted, the man in question rushed to greet you as you set things down in the kitchen. No sooner had you placed a few things in the fridge than he already started whining.

“Oh schatz, I’ve been needing you all day,” he pouted, putting on his best puppy dog eyes and draping himself over the counter dramatically in an attempt to get your attention. “Bitte, bitte, hurry up so we can play.” You raised a brow at his demands. He knew not to be pushy, especially when you were already focused on a task.

“Sebastian, I know that I told you to be patient and wait until later,” you said firmly, placing the bread in the pantry. “You know the rules.” Oh, he did. The brat just enjoyed breaking them.

“B-but, I need you now!” he cried pitifully, moving himself between you and the fridge, effectively blocking your path. You nearly growled, restraining yourself from giving him the slap across the cheek he so eagerly wanted.

“Kneel. There. Now,” you said, pointing a jabbing finger at the entrance to the kitchen. Sebastian followed the order without question, positioning himself in the spot that you had pointed to and dropping to his knees. He folded his hands neatly behind his back, smirking up at you like the cheeky bastard he was.

“I want you to keep that naughty mouth of yours shut,” you told him. Now, the brat could sit and watch you quietly as you took your sweet time.

To his credit, Sebastian remained obediently silent as you put away the rest of the groceries and started on your dinner. His eyes followed you as you moved about the kitchen, and you were just waiting for him to cave and start begging more.

Soon though, it must have been too much for him to take, because you watched as he started fidgeting on his knees. He let out a pitiful whimper, which almost succeeded in drawing your attention to him.

“Please, I…I need…” he trailed off into another whine, loud and exaggerated. Oh, so desperate. You turned to gaze at him sharply. A slight flush of arousal had risen to his cheeks, and he blinked those big brown puppy dog eyes up at you.

“Hm, last time I remember, naughty boys don’t deserve anything,” you said, refusing to acknowledge him. “And I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Sebastian smirked, opening his mouth to give some snarky reply, but you interrupted him.

“Come here, now,” you ordered, pointing my finger down to the space next to you. “Bad boys like you need supervision. You can wait here until I’m done making dinner.” Sebastian snapped his mouth shut and started to get up, but you stopped him.

“Nah ah! Crawl,” you said insistently. Sebastian blinked once, then he quickly dropped back onto all fours, obediently crawling to your side. Eagerly, he positioned himself next to your leg, almost close enough to rub up against you. Then, he gave you a cocky smirk, as if he had the upper hand here.

To remind him of his place, you rocked your leg roughly against his crotch, catching the brat by surprise and causing him to let out a strangled noise. You were pleased to find that his cock was already straining against his trousers, no doubt causing him a considerable amount of discomfort. But brats didn’t deserve mercy.

“Aw, schatz,” you cooed in false sympathy. Seb swayed against you and smooshed his face against the side of your leg, letting out a desperate whine. You allowed it, because you knew how worked up he was getting. You reached down to pat his head lightly, a mockery of the intimate touch that he was craving.

“There’s a good boy. Now why don’t you sit there as I finish up our meal?” you teased, turning back to finish working on the pasta you had boiling on the stove. This time, Seb remained obediently silent, determined to show you that he could follow instructions at least some of the time. You could tell that he was really struggling, though, because every so often he would fist his hands in the material of your skirt to remind you of his desire.

Soon enough, you had finished with your task, and you pulled away from him so that you could strain the pasta noodles over the sink. Seb whimpered at the loss as you walked away, but he stayed put and watched you as you moved around the kitchen.

You didn’t bother to plate the food, because you had plans for Sebastian before you both would eat dinner. As if sensing your thoughts, you heard Seb whine needily from behind you. To make it worse, when you turned around to rebuke him, you saw that he was palming himself through his trousers. He was gazing up at you with his best bedroom eyes, clearly determined to hurry up the whole process. Oh, naughty. You leaned your hip against the counter, fixing him with a dangerous gaze.

“You think you can get away with this, Sebastian. But naughty boys deserve punishment. And you have been a very naughty boy.” You pointed a finger in the direction of the bedroom, not coming closer to him to give him the relief he was craving.

“Go sit yourself down in the bedroom,” you ordered. “You know how. I expect this to happen in less than a minute.” Sebastian’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet. You quickly grabbed a dish towel and wound it up before swatting his ass with it, the towel making a satisfying snap against his backside. Seb yelped and stopped to turn and give you a dirty smirk, opening his mouth to make a teasing remark.

“Forty-five seconds,” you told him instead, giving him a stern look. Sebastian took the hint and immediately left the kitchen. You could hear his footsteps padding against the floor as he hurried to the bedroom, no doubt stripping his clothes off along the way.

After precisely one minute, you made your way to the bedroom. As usual, Sebastian was splayed out on the bed. He had draped himself dramatically against the pillows like he was some kind of sex god, and the shit-eating grin on his face was absolutely devious. You raised a brow, not enjoying his attitude.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you asked, surprised he wasn’t talking your ear off with snarky remarks yet. His smirk said enough, and he knew it.

You climbed atop the bed. Sebastian grinned, thinking he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Ah, you couldn’t resist,” he jeered, but he quickly fell silent as you continued climbing up towards his head. Getting yourself comfortable, you knelt above his face.

“Perfect. Now, hurry up and make that mouth of yours useful. I’m not waiting all day,” you said, acting impatient. If he could be impatient with you, then you could be with him.

Seb just smirked and stuck his head underneath the skirt of your dress. He hooked his thumbs in the lacy fabric of your underwear, but you quickly grabbed his wrists to stop him.

“Nah ah, only good boys get to take this off,” you rebuked. “But you’ve only been naughty today.” You smiled at his pitiful groan of frustration. However, Sebastian was never one to turn down a challenge, and he eagerly went to work.

His mouth was a wonder, even if he was a bit aggressive and impatient. You kept one hand in his hair, giving it slight tugs to guide him, or to pull sharply when he got too impatient with his technique. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, and he would tug on the lacy underwear in just the right way to provide even more stimulation.

“Sebastian, I don’t have all day,” you said, barely managing to say the words without gasping. You tugged aggressively at his hair, making him groan as he worked against you. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself getting close, and Sebastian’s own needy noises weren’t helping.

“Fuck, Sebastian, your mouth is so good when it’s not talking crap,” you said, grinding down against his face. Sebastian moaned, pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take much longer until you were shuddering your release, your hands tangling in his hair as you let out a groan.

However, you didn’t give him or myself much time to recover. Sebastian was still cleaning you up with little kitten licks when you shifted off of him. His face was a mess, glistening with all of his hard work, and he blinked over at you in dazed confusion.

You reached over into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the lube, spreading the gel liberally over your fingers as you crawled down between his legs. Sebastian immediately realized your intention and spread his knees wider, allowing easier access to his ass. You grinned.

“Such a slut for this, aren’t you?” you teased, already working your finger into him. Sebastian moaned, somehow managing to keep eye contact with you.

“Stop teasing,” he groaned breathlessly. Hm. He was still able to be a brat even when he was on his back with your fingers in his ass. You smirked deviously.

“Oh, what was that? I’m sorry, I don’t speak brat,” you said, shoving two fingers into his ass. Sebastian whined loudly and fisted his hands in the sheets.

“Please, please, c-can I touch myself?” he panted desperately. The poor boy was leaking all over his tummy, his arousal neglected and pressed against his belly. You just shook your head, eyeing him innocently.

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Only good boys get to touch themselves.” Grinning mischievously, you curled your finger against his prostate, hearing him practically wail in overstimulated delight. Tears were forming in his eyes, and you cooed as you continued to press against the sensitive spot.

“Aw, look at you. Earlier you couldn’t wait for me to play with you, but now it’s too much,” you purred, hearing him moan. You still refused to touch his erection, and Sebastian let out another wail as you leaned down to nip at his thigh. He was practically crying now, but he was loving every second of this.

“I can’t tell, Sebastian. Are those crocodile tears, or are they real?” you teased, listening to his pitiful whines as you worked your finger in him. “You can put on a show for everyone else, but not with me.” You finally caved and grasped his erection, giving it a firm stroke. The unholy noise Sebastian made was like music to your ears.

“Sebastian, you’re a brat. But you’re my brat,” you said, placing a gentle kiss on his sweat-slick skin. That was enough to push him over the edge, and suddenly Sebastian was spilling all over your hand. He came hard, nearly sobbing his relief as he let out a cry of pleasure.

You coaxed him through the shuddering aftershocks, watching as his body trembled, and you leaned up to kiss away the tears from his cheeks. Sebastian tangled his hands in your hair, cradling your head gently as he was at a loss for words. You smiled.

“Well, darling…that’s what a brat gets.”

Maniacal Me - Helmut Zemo

Alright so, this is something I wrote. Not gonna say why cause that's my fuckin' business. But if you're even the slightest bit squeamish, absolutely skip this one cause it's the darkest thing I've even written in my life so...yeah

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING, mentions of sexual assault, roofies, Dark!Zemo (but not towards Reader), revenge, extreme violence and graphic descriptions of torture, stalking, drugging, castration, and sounding as a form of torture

~~~~~~~~~~

Zemo's mouth upturned into a fond smile as he heard the front door to his house open and close, signaling that you were finally back from your night out.

Zemo marked his place in the book he was reading, sitting up from the couch to greet you as you made your way deeper into the home, slightly furrowing his brows as you barely even noticed him walked towards you, only looking up at him as he spoke up, "How was your night, Liebe?" He asked softly, instantly noticing how you were stumbling in your heels.

Your gaze was distant as you replied, "Good. It was good. I'm just...really tired." You chuckled weakly just barely slurring your words, leaning up against the wall of the foyer to remove your heels, sighing as your feet were finally free.

"My, how much did you drink?" Zemo asked in amusement.

You shrugged. "Only like, a few shots...and a beer, I think."

"Huh..." He hummed in thought, "You don't usually get wasted from that little. Here, let me help you to bed." And as he got close to hold on to your waist, that's when he smelled it; another man's seed. His heart rate quickened immensely as you soon fell limp in his arms, soft snores escaping your mouth, fear filling his senses.

Zemo's eyes started to fill with angry tears as he undressed you from your outfit, seeing bruises in the shape of fingerprints scattered along your thighs, bite marks along your collarbone, and a small trace of blood along your inner thighs. He felt sick as rage placed itself in the pit of his stomach, slowly growing and rising up into his throat until he had no choice but to let it out. He yelled out in pain, punching the first thing that he saw; a mirror, hearing it shatter and cut into his fist, but he didn't feel it. All he felt was pure, searing hot anger.

Zemo stayed by your side all night, well into the late morning, anxious for you to wake. He had cleaned himself up, and the broken glass that littered the floor, the last thing he wanted was for you to worry about him. Your soft sleepy sighs made him perk up, on high alert as you slowly sat up in bed, stretching your arms and squinting your eyes as the sunlight hit your face. "Hey..." You smiled sleepily, Zemo's presence instantly comforting you.

"How are you feeling?" He asked cautiously.

You weren't entirely sure. You had a slight ache in between your legs and your legs were sore, but that could've just been because you pushed yourself to dance along with every song that came on the club stereo; but as for the ache, you had no memory of what could've caused that, unless... "Did we have sex last night?"

Zemo's eyes were downcast, his hands balled up into fists, but he was determined to keep his face neutral. "Do you remember anything from last night?"

You tried thinking back; you remembered meeting your friends and having a good time, you remembered taking those shots, but somewhere during the night, it started to become a blur. The last thing you remember was sipping on that beer...eyes slightly widening as you realized, short flashes of memories in your eyes, remembering a man. He was trying to flirt with you, but you paid him no mind. You don't remember seeing him at all after rejecting him, but then how come the memories flashing in your eyes where ones of him?

You felt Zemo grab ahold of your hand as you started to cry, his so soft, warming your cold one, his brows furrowed and a deep frown adorning his face. "Liebling..." He whispered so softly, you could barely hear him. "What did he look like?" He asked, a more stern tone to his voice, his eyes glossed over.

You slightly shook your head, trying to remember his face causing you physical and emotional pain. "I can't...I-"

"It's okay. Take your time."

You tried your best to describe the man from last night, your voice trembling terribly as you recounting all the bits and pieces that were coming back to you. You recalled him telling you his name, but only his first. But with the description paired along with the one name, Zemo had all the information he needed to know to find this monster. "I wish I was there to protect you, I'm so sorry that I wasn't. But I promise, I'll make sure that this never happens again. Ever."

Zemo shifted in his seat impatiently, his eyes trained on the front entrance of the club like he was hypnotized. And he was, in a way. So focused that it almost felt like he was.

He watched as various people walked in and out of the double doors, laughing and smiling or some clearly too drunk to walk in a straight line. But then, he finally spotted him, the waste of a human being that assaulted you. He was finally leaving the club, a random's arm around his shoulder, head swaying side to side and barely standing on her own two feet. Fuck, he was doing it again, not even two days after you. Oh, Zemo was going to enjoy this.

Getting out of his car, Zemo closely trailed behind your assailant, following him into a dark alleyway. His expression darkened as he saw the man feeling up the woman in his arms, kissing on her neck as she weakly pushed against him, her eyes involuntarily fluttering open and closed, in and out of consciousness.

With heavy steps, Zemo stormed over to the man, grabbing onto his shoulder and pushing him off the drugged woman, the force so powerful that he stumbled over and fell on his ass on the damp concrete. Zemo quickly called over Oeznik, giving him the go ahead to tranquilize the fallen man. "Put her up in a nice hotel room, a suite, if it's available. Make sure no harm comes to her." He ordered sternly, helping her over to the parked limo and gently placing her in the backseat.

"Are you sure you don't need any more help, sir?" The elderly man asked.

"No, thank you. I'm quite capable of handling this trash by myself." As the limo drove off, Zemo turned to look down at the now unconscious man, smirking darkly. "You're gonna wish you had never been born."

Unlike how gentle he was with the woman, Zemo handled the man roughly, dragging him by one of his ankles. Hogtying his limbs, he forcefully stuffed him in the trunk of his car, subtly admiring the way the body contorted unnaturally to fit in such a small, confined space. He would definitely be sore when he woke up, but that'll be nothing compared to what Zemo had planned.

Zemo watched with an amused smirk as the man finally came into consciousness, his expression twisting into that of extreme discomfort. Upon seeing Zemo sitting comfortably in a seat in front of him, casually sipping on a glass of whiskey, his eyes frantically looked at his surroundings. He was chained up to a wooden torture cross, the wood old and splintering, digging into the man's back through his clothes. "Hey man, who the fuck are you? Where the hell am I?" The man asked angrily, only noticing his restraints as he tried to pull on them, his eyes slowly growing in fear and his breaths turning into heavy pants.

Zemo chuckled darkly. "Now, now, you're in no position to ask me questions, and so rudely as well. As you can probably tell, unless you're as stupid as you look."

"Please, just, where am I?" He almost begged.

Zemo narrowed his eyes as he deliberated his approach, but decided to entertain the man first. "We're in one of my warehouses, just on the outskirts of Riga."

"What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" Zemo snickered, giving the chained up man the most condescending look he could've possibly mustered. "What I want, is to know why you go around drugging woman?" The man's eyes widened comically, starting to shake his head until Zemo backhanded him, his head snapping to the side briefly. "Don't you dare play coy, I saw you last night."

"Dude, you don't understand. She was into me, she was flirting with me all night. She wanted it."

"Oh, did she now? Then how come she could barely even stand as you walked her out of that club?" The man stayed silent, Zemo nodding and pacing back and forth in front of him. "Lucky I was there when I was, but unfortunately, I couldn't protect all the other woman you must've done the exact same thing to. You're already a fucking scumbag, but you made the grave mistake of choosing one certain person as one of your victims, who just so happens, belongs to me. Two nights ago, you singled out a woman with her group of friends. She was wearing a dark blue dress, her hair done up perfectly, she was so beautiful. You tried flirting with her, but you couldn't take the fuckin' hint. So you spiked her drink when she wasn't looking...you raped her...and now, you're gonna die because of it."

The man quickly shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally seemed to grasp the severity of the situation, the skin his wrist rubbing raw as he kept trying to fight against the restraints. "No, man, please, it was an accident. A mistake, I promise!"

Zemo nodded as he started laying out his surgical tools on a metal tray that sat on a wooden table, situating the tray to sit right next to the wooden cross. "You accidently roofied her?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry! I'm...messed up. I know that. I was abused as a kid, man, I need therapy. I'll get help, I promise, just please don't kill me!" The man started to sob, mucus trailing down his face along with his thick tears, the pungent smell of urine permeating the air as he pissed himself out of fear once he saw the various terrifying looking instruments Zemo set up on a table.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet." Zemo held up one of his tools towards the ceiling lights, a slight smile coming to his face as the light hitting the metal made it glow. "I'm gonna take my time with you first. We're going to have fun."

Zemo placed on his thin rubber gloves. It was honestly the worst part, the starchiness of the material grating against his skin, but it put it out of his mind as he had a job to do. "So, how should we start, hm?" He taunted, looking the man up and down, hoping that he felt just as helpless as his victims. "I have some ideas, but I'd be open to hear some of your opinions, I am fair after all." The man just kept crying weakly, still trying to pull on his chains. "No suggestions then? Alright, fine. Good thing I have a well developed imagination."

Zemo started to feel a giddy feeling in his chest as he picked up a pair of pliers, the metal covered with dark brown leftover blood, rusting from the lack of use. He hadn't done this in a long time, he hoped he hadn't lost his touch. That would've been embarrassing.

Shrugging off his heavy coat and rolling up the sleeves of his dark purple sweater, he went to work.

Zemo would start with the man's right hand, wanting to make this as slow as possible, but not induce enough pain that he'd die. No, he had many ideas that he wanted to try and it wouldn't be worth experimenting if his subject was dead, now, would it? He started to smirk as the man made no effort in hiding his fearful whimpers as Zemo started to cut off his clothing with his knife, exposing his pale torso. "Please, I won't tell anyone about this. I'll pay you, just please, let me go." The man cried, clearly, too stupid to realize that nothing he said was going to stop this.

"Do I look like I need or want your money?" Zemo grinned darkly, surprising the man and himself when he jammed his knife in the flesh of his palm, a scream mixed with a sob escaping the man's throat. "Oh, sorry, that's not how I wanted to start this. Usually I have better control over my anger," He pulled the knife out of the man's hand with a grunt, another sob being released as the blood seeped out like a waterfall, dripping copiously onto the concrete floor. "My apologies." He coughed awkwardly, placing the knife onto the table delicately and pushing it away a little, to make sure he wouldn't do something so impulsively again. There was an art to this, Zemo knew that, and he'd be doing a great disservice if he was to rush through this with such carelessness. "Let me make up for my impulsivity."

Zemo reached up slightly so that he could reach the man's wounded hand, situating the previously discarded pliers so that his pinky sat in between the rusty metal, a rush of excitement bubbling in Zemo's veins as the man started to beg for mercy once again, immediately letting out a scream as Zemo slowly closed the pliers, hearing the piercing wet squelching sound as the layers of thin skin start to cut open, then a splintering noise echoing around the empty warehouse as the bones in his finger shattered and breaking until the small digit completely came off, falling to the floor. "Well, that was exhilarating." Zemo laughed breathlessly, picking up the bloodied finger and inspecting it. "One down." He smirked.

A sickening feeling grew in Zemo's stomach as he removed another digit from the man's fingers, not because of the way the bone crunching from the pressure of the instrument echoed around the warehouse; no, it was because some blood managed to splatter on him. He cringed and sighed in frustration, ignoring the screeching noises of pain coming from the man as his index finger dangled off the rest of his hand, barely hanging on by a thin piece of mangled skin. "You got blood on my favorite sweater. Well, at least I can hire someone else to do my laundry. I looked in your wallet and it was like a barren wasteland, no way you could pay for my laundry. I hope the stain can come out, at least. Oh well, I guess I could just buy a new one. God, see what you're putting me through? You could've spared me the waste of having to go shopping if you could've not been actual human garbage for once in your pathetic life."

Situating the rusty pliers on one of the man's toes, he slowly started to squeeze. "This little piggy went to market," Zemo started to sing over the man's painful animalistic wailing, his bones in his toe crushing and splintering inside his skin, hearing the tear as the toe came off completely. Zemo moved to the next one, "This little piggy stayed home." Another one removed. "This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none." Finally getting to his big toe, the one that would be the most struggle to remove, he laughed as the man continued screeching loudly. "And this little piggy went Wee Wee Wee," He sang over the man's screams, almost harmonizing with him, "all the way home!"

The man was dazed, almost falling unconscious from the immense pain he was in, but he was quickly perked up forcefully when Zemo threw cold water onto his person. "No sleeping just yet, sir. We still have much to do. Drink this. Slow." Zemo pushed a bottle of water up to the man's lips, him immediately gulping it down and coughing as it went down the wrong tube briefly. "I told you to drink it slowly. You never listen, huh?"

"Please..." The man choked out weakly, "just kill me..."

Zemo smiled softly, contrasting his dark eyes. "Oh, you can't die just yet. Not when we're having so much fun. Are you not having fun?" He snorted when the man's bottom lip trembled, bursting out into tears yet again. "I attend to savor this. I'm only allowing myself one night so, we have to make it count, yes?"

Slowly twirling a scalpel in his hand, Zemo unbuttoned the man's pants, pulling down his boxers along with the pants. "What're you doing?" The man yelled angrily, getting a sudden second wind as his manhood felt threatened. "I'm not into dudes, you fuckin' psycho!"

"Oh, what? Do you think I actually wanted to rape you? Even I wouldn't stoop to that level, not even for people like you. No..." He smirked, "I have something better planned. I'll ask, do you have any last words for mini you down there?"

The man's eyes widened. "What?" He stuttered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to remove your balls, moron; like the dog that you are." Zemo said nonchalantly.

"No. No, no, please, don't!" The man balled hysterically, trying his hardest to escape his restrains, as if he hadn't try multiple times already and got nowhere.

"What's the problem? It's not like you're gonna have to live with no balls for the rest of your life, cause you're dying tonight, whether you like it or not. Plus, what's that when you've already lost your fingers and toes?" Zemo didn't give the man any time to reply, getting on his knees, duct taping the man's penis out of the way so he could have a better access to the testicles. "I'd say brace yourself, but I don't give a shit."

Without wasting another second, Zemo dug the scalpel into the sensitive flesh, trying to hold back his grin as the man continued to damage his vocal cords, a slight splash of blood landed on Zemo's face. "Haha..." He chuckled dementedly, focusing on his torturous surgery. "Don't worry, I'm almost done here." He said with a faux sympathy. "Aha-!" He exhaled sharply as he finally cut through the last pieces of skin that kept the man's balls attached to the rest of his body, falling in the palm of Zemo's hand. "Would you look at that?" He smiled approvingly, holding up the detached parts up to the man's pale and sweaty face. "I've got you by the balls." He giggled.

"Stop squirming, you're gonna mess up my perfect sutures." Zemo hissed, keeping a steady hand as he sewed up the empty space where the man's testicles used to be. "There, now hopefully, you won't bleed out faster."

Placing a thin metal rod onto an open flame, Zemo looked back at the sweaty broken man with an almost sympathetic smile. "Are you familiar with sounding? It's not too extremely common, but it's supposed to make cumming all the more pleasurable for a man. Unluckily for you, I don't have experience, so it'll be painful, especially when this rod is boiling hot." Zemo went to the almost dead man with the rod in hand. "Now, hold still, or else I might accidently stick it in wrong. Hm, it probably would've been easier if you could get hard. Maybe I should've saved the castration for last...oh well." Zemo grabbed a hold of the man's limp penis, forcefully inserting the rod into his urethra; the deep guttural moans of pain increasing in volume as it turned into sharp earsplitting screams, so loud that Zemo caught some blood seeping out of the man's mouth from his torn up vocal cords, hearing the weak sobs along with the sound of sizzling skin, burning from the inside out.

Zemo examined his work, nodding in approval. "Well, how is it for you?" He asked with a smirk, only to roll his eyes when he saw the man was passed out from the pure pain he was in. "God, so lazy, aren't you? Guess I'll have to wait until you wake up...again." But after an hour, the man didn't wake up and Zemo started to get impatient.

"Hey, wake up, arschloch." Zemo slapped the man's face roughly, only for it to jerk to the side limply. "Oh, come on. Really? You're gonna tap out now?"

Zemo couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as he felt the man's pulse, feeling no throbbing in his neck or wrists. He had more ideas he wanted to test out, and that was kind of annoying, but he was finally dead. A toxic weed plucked from a rose garden, never to destroy such precious flowers ever again...

You were worried for Zemo, he had been gone all night, not replying to your texts or phone calls. You were really praying that nothing bad happened to him, or he wasn't getting himself into any trouble on your behalf. But you were soon proven right in your worry when Zemo came through the front doors, covering in dry blood. "Oh my god, what happened to you?" You cried, running to him and looking him over. "Are you hurt?" You asked frantically, trying to find the source of the bleeding.

Zemo chuckled tiredly. "No, mien Schatz, I'm perfectly okay."

You furrowed your brows, the smell of so much blood making you dizzy. "Then, why are you covered in blood?"

"I found him...your attacker." Your whole body ran cold, finally realizing where all the blood came from. "I gave him what he deserved, and he'll never hurt you or anyone one else ever again. I made sure of it."

"What did you do?" You asked timidly, tears coming to your eyes.

Zemo shook his head slightly, smiling weakly. "It doesn't matter, precious." He reached up to caress your cheek, thumbing away one of your fallen tears. "All you need to know is that you're safe."

"You...you killed him? For me?" You looked at him incredulously, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep in your sobs.

"Of course I did, Liebling. You're the most important thing in my life, and I'd be damned if I let anyone who hurt you walk free. I'd do anything for you, lay down my life if need be. I love you more than life itself."

"I-" You started to shake in his arms, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Zemo kissed your forehead, his hands rubbing up and down your sides gently.

"You made sure you wouldn't get caught, right?"

Zemo snickered. "Who do you take me for, huh? Of course I did. Plus, it's not like anyone is gonna be looking for that barbarian anyway."

"God, I love you so much." You kissed him passionately, tasting the slightest hint of blood on his tongue, but you didn't mind it one bit. Zemo always promised to protect you, lay vengeance at your feet, and he always kept his promises.

~~~~~~~~~~

Don't say I didn't warn you

Yo, to the Anon who requested a Kenny (We're The Millers) imagine! I have an idea of what I wanna write, but it's very angsty one and I want to make sure you're okay with that since you didn't say if you wanted angst. If you don't, that totally okay! I can come up with something else

Ambrosia

(Gally x Reader)

Requested by anon. No need to ask me twice 😉 Come get your smut! I may have been a little too excited to write this lol With good reason. Enjoy!

Warning: NSFW, minors dni

After a long day of working with the builders under the hot sun, straining your muscles while simultaneously trying to avoid a heatstroke, you couldn’t imagine a better reward than this.

A blissful grin adorned your slightly flushed face, a breathy gasp falling from your mouth as a pair of familiar, warm and eager lips bathed your neck in heated kisses. Rough hands that were never anything but gentle with you roamed up and down your figure before stopping at your hips with a languid squeeze.

Gally, your Keeper and devoted boyfriend, was the only reward you needed. You were loosely trapped underneath his large body, still able to escape if you pleased. Not that you had any intention of doing so.

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