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#and it's disgusting. they don't care who they hurt as long as they get more power
starfxkr · 12 hours
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I need needy JJ like I'm talking whining whimpering just overstimulating himself to the point his cock HURTS he's not even doing it for reader anymore he just can't get enough of her warm wet cunt
⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆。✩⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆。✩⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆。✩⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆。✩⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆。✩
"just-just one more. one more and i'm done i promise." jj had been saying "one more' for who knows how long, at this point you think the only way he'd pull out was if he collapsed from exhaustion.
but he showed no signs of stopping, you were long past the point of cumming, right now you were nothing more than a warm, wet hole for him to fuck--it was disgusting, a mix of both your cum was leaking out of you despite his best efforts to keep you stuffed but it was just so much. a creamy ring circled the base of his cock and dripped down his balls, some of it even smeared up to his navel from how he'd been grinding against you.
"papa i can't it hurts." you complained as best as you could but his body had you trapped.
he groaned and you felt him twitching inside you, somehow still dribbling little streams of cum, "don't care if it hurts, you just gotta give me one more."
any protest is quickly quashed by his lips on yours as he uses the little strength he has to fuck into you a little faster, stroking your overly sensitive clit making you squeal and thrash under him.
"there you go." jj huffs against your open mouth as your cunt gives him pitiful little squeezes, your body fighting between trying to push him out and suck him in closer.
you lay whimpering in discomfort, hoping he's finally done.
"i think you got one more left in ya."
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daz4i · 9 months
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bro i hate my country's politicians so much it's unreal
#i truly and sincerely hope they all die in a fire i am not even slightly joking#they promote violence and encourage an even deeper split between the people. bc it helps them#and it's disgusting. they don't care who they hurt as long as they get more power#actually they DO care who they hurt. they WANT to hurt people!! that's how they get more right wing voters!!!!!#they openly and proudly announce they want palestinians dead and out of their homes and it's sickening#(the fact this is WHY people vote them is even more sickening. they fact they were allowed to get this far is awful)#in addition to that they ofc want the lgbt community dead and they actively hurt women's rights bc how can they not :^)#i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here#sorry for talking politics. i try to avoid it but everyone on social media is talking about it. i'm so tired i hope we all explode fr#actually i'm not done i really need to vent lol#it really feels like there's no hope. the fact it keeps happening. and it gets worse every election cycle#and it's all bc fucking netanyahu is trying to avoid going to jail :^) i hope he dies today right now actually#for years everyone on the left jokes abt moving to another country but now it's becoming literally real#many people already HAVE left the country!!!!! like how fucked up is that!!!!!! that's how bad things are here!!!!!!#there's been rallies and protests for months now. i think nearly half a year at this point bc i remember it started in the winter#but obviously it doesn't do jack shit. bc why would it. if none of the right wing politicians literally get murdered -#- there is no real threat to them and so they have no actual reason to care. i sincerely think someone should take one for the team -#- and kill one of them lol i truly think this is the only solution at this point.#not to mention many of them are literally just. gross people. you hear them talk and can tell they have no experience in politics#they're all violent and constantly yell and this is how they appeal to the other violent people here#which is also why i think violence is the only way they'll understand. but alas if the left becomes violent we will be hated even more#ignoring the fact they have been violent this whole time yeah? they literally try to RUN OVER PROTESTERS#do you see why i have no hope here. do you see why i hate this so much. how can one be optimistic about this. everything sucks
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macabrevampire · 10 days
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chat i might be mentally ill ( ↖ guy that's suffered tremendously his entire life and is only getting worse)
#txt#long ass vent ahead in tags; read at your own risk <3#being a person who can't function and can't socialize and hasn't been able to find a job is awful :D#i feel like i'm the most worthless scum on earth. why can't i work. i know i'm unsettling and can't talk normally#i want to work; i want to socialize#i want to be human#but everything i say is wrong; everything i do doesn't amount to anything#my ocd and anxiety and depression are fucking killing me daily. the compulsions get worse and i get more depressed#i can't function day-to-day; i struggle to get out of bed#the world is dirty and no matter how much i clean it doesn't get cleaner#i'm in so much fucking pain. it doesn't cease; i wake up and it's always something new. today the headache. tomorrow the stomach ache#next my back hurts almost as if a piano had fallen on it#my legs ache; my wrists writhe#the pain in my chest is unbearable; it feels as if my finger had been twisted unnaturally#dizziness overtakes me; it's hard to breathe; i can't think#the brain fog and dizziness and compulsions are killing me i think#disregard the pain for a moment; every single thing i do is interrupted by the evil voice in my head telling me that if i don't set things-#in the correct order then someone i love dearly will die a most excruciating death and it'll be my fault#how am i supposed to ignore those compulsions?#most of mine are centered around death or the vague ''something bad will happen to x person''#and my skin crawls at the smallest dirty things#and everyone in this house is so fucking dirty. no one cares to clean after themselves which leaves it to me-#and it makes me permanently filthy; my skin writhes i can FEEL the layer of disgusting filth just sitting there and no matter how much-#i wash and wash and wash- it doesn't cease. it's still there. you're still dirty; the shower isn't clean enough; the soap doesn't wash well#enough. i just want it to be over#and the stress from my life is making it worse#i need a job but i'm painfully mentally ill and i don't understand social cues and i'm fucking semi-verbal to boot#< i struggle with speaking. point blank period. no one accommodates those of us who can't or have a hard time speaking#whatever man i have GOT to kill myself. the only option i have
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luveline · 8 months
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WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer
ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k
Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 
But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 
You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 
"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 
For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 
Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 
Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 
"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 
Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 
"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 
"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 
"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 
Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 
"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.
You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.
Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 
"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 
Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 
"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 
Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 
You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.
"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 
It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 
Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 
"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 
Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 
"Partner?" Derek asks. 
It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 
You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.
"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 
"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 
"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 
"What took me so long?" you ask.
"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 
"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 
Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"
"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 
Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 
Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"
You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."
Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 
Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 
"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.
"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.
"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 
You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 
"You cannot keep bringing that up." 
"Why not?" 
Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 
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leviscolwill · 7 months
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adore
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pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader
summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]
contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?
note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶
now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...
"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."
"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."
your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.
the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.
when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.
"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.
"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.
"i'm-"
"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.
"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.
"is that your boyfriend?"
"ummm, no he's my-"
"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.
"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.
"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.
"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.
"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.
"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.
"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.
the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.
immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.
even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.
"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.
"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.
you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.
thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.
you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.
you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.
you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.
"is it gonna hurt?"
"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.
"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.
you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.
"you're so pretty..."
if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.
"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.
"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.
you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.
"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.
"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.
you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.
he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.
once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.
you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.
"no thanks, i'm not hungry."
"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.
"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.
you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.
but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.
"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.
"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.
"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.
you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.
"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."
you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.
"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?
he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?
"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?
"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?
"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.
"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.
if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.
once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.
you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.
when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.
jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.
you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.
after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.
it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.
no answer.
there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.
you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.
"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.
"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.
"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"
it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.
but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.
it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.
once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.
let's just keep doing what you did all day
i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened
probably best for us :)
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boiohboii · 8 months
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Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)
Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic
When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life
or
in which we finally get to see the roles reversed
N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it
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Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others
itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!
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Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others
F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.
username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH
username: yn doing God's work
username: yn serving justice
username: that's what we needed
username: hot girl shit
username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her
username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles
username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?
username: another one
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others
itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy
username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?
username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice
username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song
itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚
username: and I oop-
username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!
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Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others
itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️
username: FINALLY!!
username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose
username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️
itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.
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Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others
F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.
username: good for her
username: charles is so lucky
username: I love how she always stands up for him
username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.
username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.
username: this shit was so heartbreaking man
username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim
username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it
username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒
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3K notes · View notes
nisuna · 3 months
Note
Need more yuuji smut!!
So hear me out-
bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.
Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff
Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3
⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this
TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji
~2,8k words~
<3masterlist<3
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--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------
Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.
It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.
"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.
"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.
"Yuji, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.
"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"
"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."
"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.
"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.
"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.
"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."
You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.
He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"
"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.
"Want me to carry you?"
"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.
"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."
"Okay."
After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.
Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.
------
You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.
"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.
"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."
"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"
"All day actually...", you confessed.
His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.
After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."
"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Can we cuddle too?"
"We can do whatever you need."
That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"
"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."
"But I'm sure, I really want this-"
"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."
You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.
You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.
After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.
"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.
"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.
"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."
You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.
"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.
"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.
"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.
"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.
"Nope."
"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.
"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."
That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.
"You're practically drooling."
"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.
"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.
"Can I touch you?"
"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"
His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.
"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.
"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.
"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.
"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.
"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.
"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."
Before he could leave you, you stopped him.
"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.
"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.
Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.
He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.
"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."
"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.
"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."
You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.
Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.
"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."
So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.
The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.
"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."
If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.
"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.
Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.
When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.
Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.
"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."
"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.
You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.
"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."
You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.
Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.
--------
If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah
Hope to see you all very soon<3
523 notes · View notes
sweets4dolls · 3 months
Note
What about some angst with bunny? As val can be really mean, has he ever yelled at bunny? Like ugly yelling, and she's all scared think he's gonna hurt her, to the point vox has to get in the middle.
𝒸𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎
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pairings: valentino + bunny!fem!reader, vox + bunny!fem!reader
content warnings: toxic relationship, yelling, mean val, gets softer towards the end, verbal abuse, hypnosis (not on reader), not proofread
notes: i've been waiting for angst,! ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ also I have a lot of requests so im super sry that im kinda slow I promise im trying to get to everyone! <3
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it all started after you had come back after going out, after getting mocked by some of val's girls who decided to pick at you, calling you names, not that you had done anything to them. it really wasn't your fault, you had never done anything to them - they were mainly jealous about how well val treated you, not to mention that you also received attention from vox as well.
so as you rode the elevator back up to your room, you let your pretty head dote on their words, thinking about how right they were - you didn't really deserve this life, you hadn't done much to get it, had you? your arms wrap around your frame as the familiar prick of rising tears settles in your darling eyes, sighing as the elevator doors open so you can walk to your room and calm yourself down.
so when you go into your room, you lean against your vanity that was scattered with beauty products and little trinkets valentino and vox had gotten for you, your tender face in your hands as you try to calm yourself, not noticing that valentino had walked up behind you and wrapped two of his long arms around you, another going to mess with your hair as he presses his clothed bulge into your back.
"not right now val" you mumble as ears droop over your face, not looking at him as one of his hands messes with the top of your skirt.
"don't worry, conejito, I can make you feel better," he says with a smile, not really caring that your upset, just wanting to turn those tears from earlier into tears from choking on his dick.
"please, I said not now!" you cry as you push him off, making him look at you with surprised eyes, saying nothing for a few moments. his baby bunny, talking back? you look at him, nearly trembling as he stays silent, before he opens his mouth, hissing one more time "it doesn't matter what you say, does it?" before you push him off once more as he pushes you onto the bed.
after that, he's screaming at you, your frankness of how you rejected him sending him into a fury as he stalks around the room, spitting horrid insults at you.
"after all I've done for you! you stupid, dumb little baby!" he screams in your face, making warm tears flow from your pretty eyes.
"I-i'm sorry val, what they s-said hurt my feelings and j-just," you start, gripping a plush bunny he had given to you on your bed as he stalks over to you, looming above your cowering figure.
"do I look like I give a fuck? it doesn't matter what you want, when I found you, you were just a disgusting little creature and I took you in, giving you everything you could want!" he says with teeth bared as he gestures around the room full of items that had been bought for you. "and this is the thanks I get?" he starts and finishes picking up random items and smashing them on the floor and throwing them against the wall.
still wailing about how you've rejected him, he rips the bunny from your hands, ripping it down the middle, smiling as you cry even harder, your pretty head in between your knocking knees as he throws it back to you in pieces.
vox, who had decided to check in on you, opens the door to find the whole mess of a scene - you, cowering and shaking on the bed, covered in your glossy tears as your tail twitched frantically, and val who was screaming his heart out at you.
seeing his poor and scared little bun, vox steps in before valentino lay a hand on you, coming over to you and covering your floppy ears in a sort of protective fashion, giving val a look.
"val, stop it," he says calmly as val seethes, holding another perfume bottle he was about to smash. "the ungrateful bitch was-" he starts pointedly before vox cuts him off, using hypnosis to make him lay off "we can talk about it later, okay?" he says with that odd ring in his voice, making valentino let out a noise of annoyance before setting down the perfume and stalking out of the room, leaving you and vox alone.
you cry as vox put you onto his lap, stroking your ears and tail as you whimper, "sh, its okay bun, don't worry," he coos softly as liquid tears blur your vision and you babble to him in broken sentences about the whole thing.
"m' so sorry"
997 notes · View notes
itsmearia01 · 3 months
Text
Past Love || Prolog
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Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Itadori's best friend! F! Reader
A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. (btw, here Sukuna is considered as king and you considered as the queen) And there are some OCs that I added to add more drama. Hope you like it!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1
Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.
Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.
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(Y/N) (L/N) or now known as Ryomen Sukuna's wife. That night was a wedding between you and Sukuna. Your father, who is the only parent you have now, is the figure behind all of this. It all started with him make you engaged to hundred year old demon when you were 12 years old. And now you are 18 years old, which means it's time to get married.
Many important people come, make you have to smile throughout the event. And when it all ends, that night you ended up at your bedroom alone. You reflect on all the things happened.
They think you're happy, they all think you love him. All this time you have to act like you can't live without Sukuna. You have to act like you love him. No, of course you don't love him. You admit he's quite hot, but he's not your type. You don't like mean, psychopathic men. You like gentle and loving men.
Your father always forced you to be obsessive with Sukuna and act like you love him. So you always hurting women who tease him because your father told you to. But you can't do much if Sukuna wants those women. So you are the antagonist.
You're 100% sure he's with one of his mistresses now. As the first wife of Ryomen Sukuna, everyone is sorry for you because he likes to sleep with other women. But you don't mind it, you don't care. But THEY CARE, those who think you love him.
"What should I say to your majesty?"
You hear the waiters talking behind the wall, you start to focus on listening.
"Did lord Sukuna slept with his lover?" Ask someone you recognize as your personal guard now. "Yes. I have to immediately bring this dinner to queen (Y/N)."
Not long after the conversation ended, your bedroom door was opened. "excuse me queen, this is your dinner." He said while put down the tray of your dinner. "Thank you, did he slept with his mistress?" you ask.
The butler raised his head, looking at you with pitying eyes. "I-That's right, Your Highness." he answered nervously. You sighed and told him to leave. Before leaving the room, he look at you with pity once again.
Several months passed, nothing special. He always looks at you disgusted, because he also thinks you're obsessed with him. When you meet Sukuna, he always with his concubines and those concubines always grin at you.
You have to be patient, this is for your family.
That day, he suddenly call you and everyone to the great hall. He was with a woman as usual, but something was different.
"I want to make this women, as my first wife." He said. Everyone was shocked. Because if he wants to make that woman his first wife, it means that she will replace your position. You saw the woman smiling innocently, but you can see her grin.
Because Sukuna wanted to make that woman his first wife, all support for you disappeared and turned to that woman. After your father investigated the woman named Yurika Sato, a illegitimate daughter of a lowly noble who went bankrupt.
The thing that made he attracted to her was because of her innocence. Sukuna really likes innocent women and really hates rude women like you. And just as you'd think, Sukuna will eventually replace you and take Yurika as his first wife.
But you realize this is your chance to escape. You tell your father that you will run away and he agrees. Just in time for the wedding between Sukuna and Yurika, you packed up your things and leave a farewell note. Finally, after everything Sukuna did to you from betrayal, his harsh words, and other acts of cruelty that you received from him, you are finally free.
You and your father still communicating by letter and he bought you a house that is not big but still very nice. Now you live in a village and sell cakes you make by yourself.
Until one day something special happens in your life. At that time you were walking around in the market suddenly you hit bye someone and fell. When you look at that person it was a tall handsome man.
"Sorry, I'm really sorry." He says. Reaching out his hand to help you up. And that's when you were get to know to him. It was strange that an aristocratic family name was used by a commoner like him. You were suspicious, but you were a person who believed easily when he said that he completely unrelated to nobles, he happened to share the same last name.
He work as a doctor in this village.
Months have passed and now you know him better, you start developed romantic feelings for each other.
One day he proposed to you and you happily accepted. It's been a month since you were married and you read a letter from your father explaining that the capital in chaos. There are so many evil curses attacking everything around.
You want to go there, but hampered by your body feeling unwell. You keep feeling nauseous and vomiting, your menstruation hasn't come since a month ago. You finally checked secretly with other doctors in the village. Unfortunately, it took a few days to find out.
Three days have passed and there is still no news about the results. Due to getting another letter from your father and worrying about him, you finally decide to go to the capital that day without your husband knowing.
But you don't realize that will be where it ends. You didn't find your father at your family's residence, and you immediately went to Sukuna's residence. You find your father fighting a curse and behind him is Sukuna. When your father neglects to help the others, sukuna who somehow looks very weak is attacked by a special grade curse.
Time went fast, you ran trying to protect Sukuna's body and in the end the curse attack hit your stomach. You lay down weakly and heard screams of your father, Sukuna, and your husband who somehow were there. You see them approaching you and screaming for someone to heal you. And what surprised you the most was when your husband shouted, "SHE'S PREGNANT!"
It's too late. You was already unconscious and fell asleep forever.
_____
"HAH- HAH- HAH."
You wake up from your sleep, the dream is again in your mind. You quickly looked at the time and realized that you would be late for school. You hurry up and get ready for school. Go downstairs and find your father and sibling eating in the dining room.
You grabbed a loaf and rushed out of the house ignoring your father's screams telling you to come back.
And this is your life now, (Y/N) (L/N) the only one daughter of a rich family which has one of the most successful companies in the world.
On the way to school, you keep imagining the dreams you've had every day since you were 12 years old until now. No matter how much you deny it, You know that it's not just a dream but an incident that happened in the past. Maybe it was your past life.
To be continued
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A/N : Hello! This is the end of the prologue, once again English is not my first language, btw your family won't be featured much in the next chapters, so it's okay if you don't have any siblings to imagine in the story. Sorry if there are any wrong words. I feel it's too long for prolog, so I'm sorry but hope you like this story and waiting for the first chapter! Banners credit to @cafekitsune !
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
Text
Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Get Her Back 4/4 (Word count 7.3 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
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The knife still juts from the table.
She touches it often, fondles the handle like it's her lover.
Days pass, and König escapes her stare with raised shoulders and poorly disguised hurt in his eyes. She feels his eyes on her every single time she's not looking.
He breaks into her room every night, but she never wakes up to his presence. The only thing that tells her the man's been there are the fresh flowers on her table next to the knife.
He brings her flowers every morning, just like he promised, and she keeps the blade there to remind him that he's still in her heart. It's like a silent conversation, and it stabs her stomach full of pain.
On the fourth day, he returns her panties. They're covered in dried cum, and at first, it makes her feel disgusted. Then her heart flutters, a warm feeling settles deep inside her stomach when she imagines him jerking himself off to her underwear amidst his knives, with despair and longing coating the air.
For anyone else, it might be a chilling thing to wake up to: to open eyes to the sight of a brutal tactical knife, freshly picked forget-me-nots and some cum-stained lace. But for her, it's a loving attempt to remind her who she belongs to. It's also a sign that the man is trying to let her go and finally obey her wishes to be left alone.
And she doesn't want to be left alone.
He promised she would never be alone.
On the fifth day, there's no flowers, there's nothing. She starts her day with a horrible, awful bawl. Then she puts on a black dress. It makes her look odd, like she's in mourning, but it also gives her… power, somehow. Even if it's another cute kind of cotton babydoll dress, it makes her look more austere.
“König, wait.”
She chases him down this time: runs to his retreating form that stops the instant she calls his name. He’s tense when she walks the last steps to him and hugs him from behind. The familiar scent of tea tree and gasoline and sweat and guns bring a visceral memory of madness to her mind. It’s an ambrosia of crude virility, and she's missed him, God, that she's missed him.
It's also safety. Because no matter what anyone says, he is the only one who knows her, sees her, sees right into her core, her very soul.
He slowly places a hand on hers, the arms that embrace his narrow, treelike middle.
"Engel…"
The voice comes out tight and strained. He caresses her hand with hesitation and swallows.
"I'm confused.. I don't know what you want me to do."
"Come with me," she whispers in his back. He has no gear on, and she can feel his abs through the black shirt, the way his shoulder blades flare against her cheek with shallow breaths. "If you want…?"
"Ganz sicher."
She takes him by the hand and guides him to her room. People look at them with pity and dread, and she feels like they’re in high school where people were divided into groups of popular and unpopular.
She knows where she and König would’ve belonged. Where they belonged now…
And she just doesn't care anymore.
When the door to her room shuts behind him, she feels a little tug near her heart. She had nearly forgotten how big König looks inside her little room, the space she has tried to turn into a cozy home even though she doesn't view the base as her home like the soldiers do. It's just a place for her to reside in when she's working.
But he does not fit into a normal society like she does. The base must be the closest thing to a home for him. Not every elite soldier is a lunatic perhaps, but König certainly couldn't find any other job in the modern world that would cater to his needs without sending him behind bars.
But he was supposed to kill only in the field. Only somewhere far, far away.
Why did you do it?
Why…?!
That's what she meant to ask when they're behind closed doors, but something quite different comes out instead.
"Did you miss me…?"
She stands before him, holding her hands in front of her, looking probably quite silly clad in black.
"I've been in hell ever since I left, Engel."
Christ have mercy…
Normal men just didn't talk like that.
"Will you forgive me?" He looks her up and down, but the calm, proud posture, the way he holds his chin high behind that dark shroud tells her he's not used to begging. She has a feeling that this question is asked only because Soap suggested it would be a good idea to apologize for making her so upset.
"It's not me you should be–" She sighs. "Look… That man had a wife. König, I think he had a kid and everything."
His eyes are covered in a veil of disinterest only she can pierce. There's actually so much going on behind that odd, distanced stare. But what’s horrifying is that he clearly doesn’t agree with her on this matter.
"I kill people every week," he declares. "Just not in the break room."
His logic leaves her wordless for a moment. The officer was not an enemy, he was not part of some foreign military, his only crime was that he was in a hurry…
She has barely even opened her mouth to speak before he finally defends himself.
"How do you know his wife is not secretly happy with the news?"
The question is like a bucket of ice dipped in her head. She had prepared herself for almost anything but this. König only tilts his head and narrows his stare.
"Would you want to be wife to that kind of man?"
Her mouth opens on its own; her jaw would fall to the floor if it could do such a thing. His worldview unfolds before her in full, and it should disgust her: but all she feels is an odd thrill in her stomach from realizing this man is not only possessive; he's also fiercely traditional.
"He just spilled some coffee on me," she whispers in soft, tender horror. "He just happened to have a bad day."
"How many times a week did he have a bad day?"
The defense is solid, even if it's preposterous. The man was rude and disrespectful, yes. To everyone, every day, probably continued the abuse at home, too. But he didn't deserve to be killed for it. Still, König doesn't seem to find any fault in his way of thinking.
"I can tell when people are evil," he crosses his arms over his chest as a final note.
Evil…
Evil.
She's left blinking, then she finds her tongue again.
"You can't just… deal punishment like that," she huffs.
"Why not?"
Jesus Christ…
His arms are still over his chest, and he looks… so big, so powerful, like an omnipotent being.
Probably thinks he is.
"Will you go to jail?" She changes the subject because arguing with this kind of man seems futile. Downright hopeless.
"No," he says with perpetual calm. "Would you want to see me in jail?"
"...No."
He finally unravels his arms and takes a few steps toward her. That swaying lounge is intoxicating and seductive, even when he doesn't mean it as such. It's just the way he walks, but it makes her woozy.
"Engel. You are too… kind for this world."
More odd arguments are laid out before her, more confusion and love and pain. He raises a hand to touch her arm and make his point clear. The weight of him is heavy and adult, his military clothing is in blaring contrast to her tiny, childish dress.
"You don't understand it now, but perhaps someday you will."
The man looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with her. She's a child in his eyes, but something in this lunacy tells her she's dealing with a child, too: a boy who no one ever loved.
"My little angel. Always wearing pretty dresses," he says more softly now.
"I'm not an angel."
"Yes you are," he rules without effort. "And you look good in everything. But you shouldn't wear black."
"Why not…?"
"Because you belong with flowers."
Her heart aches, her eyes prick with burning tears. He's self-aware, that's for sure. He knows what he has done to her, what he is doing to her. And he wishes to spare her from him.
"I thought you liked black," she peeps, her mind and will and defense breaking.
He doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes down her cheek, then cups her chin softly. That same hand must be ironclad when it grips his enemies and brings them to his blade.
"I like this dress," she tries to quarrel, voice shaking.
"And I know a knife that would go perfectly with it."
His eyes are warm. There's even a passing sadness in them. She's relatively sure that he's not talking about butterfly knives any longer – she's almost certain that König hasn't gifted his weapons to any other human being on this earth.
“How about we take off that pretty little dress now, hmm?”
The time for the compulsory explanations is over in his mind, and it’s time for sex. He knows that his exile has ended, that whatever liminal space they walked in for a few days wasn’t enough to rid herself of him. There’s no turning back anymore, and he looks at her with amused hunger when she obeys his suggestion which is, in truth, a command.
Her fingers do not shake anymore as she undresses for him, but a shiver goes through her guts: that stare is a look from beyond. He’s a madman, and falling more in love with her every day, even if the only way he knows how to love is by stabbing people with his cock or his knife.
“Lie down,” he gives her more orders when she stands before him with nothing on.
It’s futile, completely futile to pretend that she doesn’t want this. It’s almost like an act, the way she slowly and demurely obeys his command. In reality, she wants nothing more than to be devoured by him.
He takes his clothes off while she waits for him on the bed like an injured bird. He rips, then throws his gloves off like they have done something naughty, all the while his gaze is fixed on her. She has missed the sight of that faint hair on his abs, missed that broad chest, missed how his muscles bunch even when he gets out of a shirt that weighs practically nothing in his hands.
The long, veined cock flies out from his pants with a demanding bounce that makes her swallow. They form an odd pair on the floor: her little dress and his huge woodland camos. His eyes are surrounded in black paint under the eternal mask, but otherwise, he's the palest man she has ever seen.
Her breasts rise and fall with aroused breaths as he settles himself beside her, naked and blazing. His cock is pure fire when it gets trapped between them, and he's already drooling hot precum on her thigh.
He's gentle, kind of. Slides a hand over her shivering stomach, palms one breast, then takes a nipple between his fingertips and gives her a pinch.
“Did you miss me too?”
The hood makes him look like a hangman, and he’s infuriatingly patient now. She expected him to rail her like a sex toy right after the door was closed.
"Yes."
He releases her, and the callous descends with a gentle, deliberate caress to her waist.
"Then you're the first who ever did."
She just might be the first woman he's gentle with, too, and she cannot help but think if it's because of what she said just before he killed that poor man. If the last piece of the puzzle locked in place when he realized how much she admired him. If her confession also made him stake his claim in the loudest possible way, announcing everyone that he's her protector.
It's not her fault that the man's dead, but she should be ashamed: she's wet already when the murderer's fingers delve further down to meet her folds. He disappears somewhere in her wetness, and her thighs rise and drift apart to give him full access.
And it's always like this: she spreads legs for him with a helpless, longing stare, he takes in what belongs to him with dark, pleased hunger.
He finds her clit in no time, drags his thumb over it, and she gasps. Her breaths come quick now, her nipples are shot to the sky and her back is already arching when he delves down and slides one finger inside. It's long and lean, and her cunt grips him like they have been apart for four weeks instead of four days.
He sighs under the mask, just from her greedy response. She wants to touch him too, but doesn't dare to move when he's looking at her like that. He starts to finger her gently, first with one, then two digits while attending to the tight nub on top. And he's good with a knife, quick with his hands, so what did she expect?
But she’s also sad and mad. Because he definitely knows what he’s doing. And it makes her think…
"Have you had a lot of women..?"
Her question is a mouse's whisper. His fingers halt inside her; they spread her with delicious torture.
"A few," he says. "Back in Austria."
He buries his face in her neck and nuzzles his way to her ear. The bag of darkness is soft and hot, but nothing compared to his heated whisper.
"But they were nothing like you."
He punctuates the declaration by curling the fingers inside her. She bites her lip to stifle a filthy, needy moan. He even grinds his hips against her: that cock is like a heated spear against her soft thigh, and more cum oozes out to trickle down her leg.
"How many men have had you, Engel?"
He doesn't ask: how many men has she had. She may not be his plaything, but she is his possession. In his mind, she belongs to him and only him, no matter who has come before. But the murderous passion with which he waits for her answer makes her flustered, and she bolts her mouth tight in an indication that she will not disclose this information.
"Gut. Don't tell. I would kill them all."
Oh.
Oh…
"Would you like that…?"
"No," she whimpers.
"Yes you would."
“I don’t–I don't want you to–”
“Shh.”
He’s working those fingers smooth and quick, and she’s already leaking on his hand, probably on the bed, too… The room is filled with sighs and whimpers and sobs as he fucks her with slick, wet sounds. She's close the edge in mere minutes, but he won’t let her finish.
Instead, he pulls out just when she's about to tighten around him.
"Why-why did you stop?"
"Angel... Take me in your mouth," he rasps, breathless too despite trying to disguise it. She briefly wonders if this is some sort of a punishment. That perhaps she’s ordered to give him a blowjob just when she’s about to come – after all, she has dared to keep him waiting for days.
But that’s not the case, it seems, as she moves with heavy limbs to fulfill his wish.
"Nein… Other way around. I want to taste you."
The perverse suggestion in the break room turns into a reality as she realizes what he wants to do. Her heart is pounding when she crawls on top of him to meet that leaking cock. How exactly is that thing even going to fit inside her mouth?
A sudden shyness takes her as her thighs are forced into a wide-legged spread from straddling the broadest man on earth. She's exposed to the cold air only for a second before his breath hits her. The shortest shadow of a stubble on that usually clean-shaven chin meets her soaked cunt with hunger.
“Ah… Take it– in your mouth,” he moans orders to her folds, and her cunt clenches immediately, just from hearing that accent and that voice.
She moves to give him a shy lick, sweeps a tongue over that tip to clean him from all that precum. He goes tense under her and breathes heavily when she wraps her hand around him, wraps her mouth around the weeping slit.
He tastes of salt and sin, and the minute she tries to take more of him in, he groans with a dry throat. It's a hot, broken breath that travels straight inside her. It’s too much – the position is far too stimulating, it’s over the top wicked.
And then he starts to lick her. It messes up the blowjob that has barely even started. She knows his hood must be almost completely off, otherwise he wouldn't be able to breathe.
"Take a bit more, Engel," he urges between the long slathers that already sound lewd. There's simply no way to take it fully in, he’s far too long for that. The last thing she wants to do is gag on him. But she does a good enough job, tries to concentrate on breathing through her nose as she goes as deep as she can.
"That's…more like it…"
It’s a relieved notion somewhere behind her before he continues with the agonizingly slow licks. Fat and flat-tongued, the work of a famished man. For someone who's so clumsy with social interaction, he’s infuriatingly good at giving pleasure to women. The tip of his tongue grazes her clit, and causes a muffled moan – her mouth is full of him but she just cannot help herself.
And arms of steel close around her middle the minute she whimpers on his cock. They pull her closer to his face – he wants to hear her make noise, then, and her will to compete arises. She wants to make him moan too. She ups the pace, flattens her tongue on him every time she retreats…
"Where did you learn to–nnh…"
She nearly laughs at his surprise, at their silly little competition. He's shocked, probably jealous too, of her past and the imagined cavalcade of men who may or may not have been inside her mouth before him. She swirls a tongue around the tip every now and then, wraps her lips tight around him, and goes even deeper.
"Verdammte Scheiße.. I'm not going to last long…"
Strong thighs around her power up, and he has stopped licking her altogether: he's just panting in her pussy and holding on to her hips while waiting for the upcoming wave.
"You know what to do, ja?" He pants that question like she doesn't know he's about to shoot a load on her tongue soon.
"Don't make a mess," he shares advice with a sly tone to his voice. "Unless you want to clean after…"
He gives a short laugh as if the joke is funny. As if that's a clever thing to say to a cleaning lady. It makes her grip him harder, and he's close, so close: he's not even moving anymore, everything's just completely rigid under her body and inside her mouth.
"I'm fucking–cumming…"
He spills with a long groan, moans against her cunt, cries inside her with pain. The seed is hot and heavy, it shoots right down her throat even in this position. She does the best she can to not make that mess, but it's hard work when a giant cock pulses in her mouth.
"You're perfect, angel," he sighs behind her, tries to feed more of himself inside her mouth by rolling his hips.
The praise makes her pump and suck him even more, get every last drop out, and a tremble goes through her lover. She has to take support from the bed until the earthquakes recede. His cock is a clean mess after, and she's a mess too: overworked, and shy, and victorious.
They're both left panting: she tries to catch some breath there between his thighs after everything, but she's not allowed to rest and recover. The grip around her middle pulls her back, and a breathless man trying to lick her like it's the end of the world is not only far too much, it's unbearable. She's already overly sensitive and needy from the four days of barren grief.
"It's too much…" She tries to tell him, but he won't listen. If anything, it only spurs him on.
"König, I can't," she wails softly while resting her head on his thigh.
"Yes you can."
A feverish tongue dips inside her as deep as it goes. It forces her legs apart, she spreads herself all over his face completely unwillingly. There's no mercy for her as he flicks a tongue over her clit, plunges a tongue inside her as deep as it goes, returns to the nub again – does it again and again and again like it's some secret code meant to break her.
"You like that, huh?" His rough voice is muffled by her cunt, he sounds both parched and wet.
"Hm? Talk to me," he demands an answer although it should be obvious that she's losing her mind from his treatment.
"Yes," she mewls while being spread so crudely wide for him. "I… I love it…"
"Hah. You sound like a little cat," he laughs, pleased, then gets to it again. She's so close now that she can feel the growing waves. Her thighs are not just shaking, they're trembling.
"So pretty and so wet," he comments between the licking and dipping, voice covered with smoke from all the lust. And he's hard again, too: right next to her face, and she could cry actual tears – what if he plans on fucking her too after this? It's too much, she can't even take this, she can't…
But she does.
Her back starts to arch just before the orgasm. She's not weeping yet, but every noise she makes sounds like she's crying her heart out.
"Slow down, slow–down, please…"
She's a one-woman choir of tight pleas. She tries to muffle them by burying her face somewhere in his thighs and musk. The tongue dips in and out like he's a machine and not a man, and the first wave hits unexpectedly, like a searing, white-hot blade.
"A–ah!"
The climax swallows her, she starts grinding against that face without meaning to. He only laughs and buries his nose and tongue deeper into her slickness. The arms around her hold her like iron bars, his breaths hit her along with his tongue like she's strapped to a torture device.
Her cunt is sloppy, and throbbing, and he is a torturer, licks her even when she's lying on top of him in ruin: a devastated, trembling heap of a woman who's lost everything.
"Stop–König, you need to stop…"
Her weak whispers do nothing. His tongue sweeps her from front to back until she's crying on top of him. Frail fingers try to claw his thighs but grasp nothingness.
When he finally relents, he does it with another laugh. Then he gives her a last lick: a total bully, snorts a chuckle when a tremble goes through her entire body from just that single, fat sweep.
"Mmm. That was good. Right?"
"M–mh…"
There are tears in her eyes, but not one comes out. Her pussy throbs and winks with the aftershocks, and his hand moves up and down her back like she's that little cat.
"You're mean," she sobs. Complains.
"Heh… you didn't like it?"
"I did," she sniffs, and his hand moves to caress her thigh.
"I know you did. I know you. Everything about you."
He sounds merciful at last, pats her leg softly.
"Come here. I'll take care of you."
When she turns and crawls back to him, his mask is fully in place. He receives her with open arms and speaks more softly than ever.
"I have to take care of you after. Isn't that so?"
"Yes…"
She holds onto him, because he's the only thing that's solid in her world at this point. His aftercare is the most tender thing she has ever known: her hair is being caressed gently, the tension in her neck and back is soothed with long, loving strokes. He buries his mask in her hair and inhales her after-sex scent like it's a whole offering of incense.
"Angel. You feel like… like it's my birthday."
His statement brings another round of tears to her eyes. Instinct tells her that birthdays might've been the only happy days of the year for this man.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
He sounds worried when she's so quiet and timid again. Her heart settles slowly into a warm pool of love, she presses herself against him with fervor, and he squeezes her in turn like she's the most perfect birthday present ever.
"No."
I really needed that.
I need you…
"I will never let you go again," he promises. "Never. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispers. "I don't– I don't want you to go."
"Little one. I'm so glad I found you."
He takes her palm and uses it to brush away the hood from his lips. The violent edge is always taken away after sex, and the devouring is gentle, the passion is blunt. His kiss is soft; sweet.
"König…" She's raw and bare in his arms, her adoration reflects back to her from his blues. "Why did you pick me?"
"You're the one who picked me, Engel. I just answered your call."
He takes in the effect this truth has on her, then takes her breath away with another kiss. A small giggle erupts in the lazy afternoon as he threatens to crush her with a bear hug. Her hand steals its way further under the mask: she meets smooth skin and a collection of even smoother bumps.
"Why can't I see your face..?"
"It's not a pretty sight," he sighs. "Father liked to cut me when I was little."
The laziness leaves her body that very instant. The man is detached, distant: as if he's sharing something trivial, the city he grew up in or his favorite subject in school.
She doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror, but what he says next sends even more ice down her spine.
"Now I cut those who are evil."
Everything starts to make perfect sense.
Why he was bullied at school, why people fear him. Why disrespectful, cruel men deserve to be knifed and why women and wives are angels. Why he wears a mask.
It's not sound reasoning, but it is a strategy, perhaps. Survival… A defense mechanism.
And offense is the best defense…
She had been right: this man is incurable, only in ways she could never have guessed.
Afterwards, he shows her his knives.
His room is full of them: combat knives, throwing knives, bowie knives, daggers, bayonets, balisongs, two machetes, a kukri, knives she doesn't even have a name for… There's swords and sticks and a riot shield. There's only one bed, nothing more, not even a nightstand.
And the room is also full of guns.
Assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, handguns; there's scopes, tripods, gloves, gas masks, a ghillie suit, pouches, plate carrier vests, magazines, grenades, even a launcher.
The room is filled with violence.
And she didn't know what she expected.
Some "Hot Gun Babes" wall calendar and a few pocket knives? That he would play by the rules and keep weapons and gear where they were stored instead of in his fucking room?
He gives her his third gift that pairs well with her black dress, or any dress, for that matter. Another knife, but not the kind he kills people with, nor the flimsy kind used for entertainment purposes.
She receives an automatic switchblade, simple but pretty. The double-edged blade looks almost feminine, the way it curves into a sharp, dainty tip. The handle is made of sturdy, polished wood; it's incredibly beautiful and so dark it's nearly black. The knife is only a threat when it's flicked open: all in all a piece that isn’t what it seems.
"Hier. Good little blade. Would take it wherever I go."
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, Engel."
She kisses him after his gift. She kisses the white scar on his jaw, lifts the mask a bit more, and he doesn't stop her. He doesn't stop her, not even when she finds more keloid cuts and kisses them too.
And he's… simply a man.
There's a human under all that darkness.
It's not a pretty sight, perhaps, but for those scars, she couldn't love him more.
"You're not afraid of me," he sounds surprised when she takes in the violence done to his face with tenderness in her gaze.
"No."
He's speechless. The barricade covering his eyes is permanently broken, and she can see him, all of him.
She falls to her knees and opens his pants, gives the man another round of love. He looks at her with pain and pleasure; a pale, adoring god. Strokes her hair gently while she gets drunk on him like a succubus, wants him to spill that white on her face and all over her pretty black dress.
"Cum on my face, König."
She looks at him with angel eyes while saliva and drool make a rope from her mouth to his throbbing cock. But there is nothing left of the celestial, nothing more than a sweet, fallen angel, and a safe space just for her and him.
"Please…?"
Ruin me.
He hesitates a few seconds, then grabs his cock in an iron fist like it's heavy artillery.
"Whatever my angel wants, she shall have."
. . . . . .
He brings her flowers every morning and fucks her every night.
Sometimes he catches her when she's outside in the sun, reading a book or watching the clouds. He carries her off to the woods and takes her against a tree like they're the first man and woman on the earth after tasting the forbidden apple. They share a few hushed laughs and more than a few desperate kisses under the hood, then he brings her back to earth, straightens her dress like a gentleman before leaving to have a date with death.
He takes her out to eat sometimes, takes her to the shooting range. Calls her his little Wildkatze when she takes a liking to one of his shotguns. He takes her hand when they stroll through the grass and sings an old love song from his homeland. He has a beautiful voice, especially when he forgets he's in company. Or perhaps she's just special like that…
They share a secret language in the base. Whenever he sees her, he draws his knife and throws it in the air ("I miss you") or twirls it around ("The things I will do to you tonight…"). Sometimes, he just places a hand on the handle of the cruel blade. That stands for 'You're mine'.
It's the closest thing to I love you before either of them have spoken the actual words. Or then it's the closest thing to I love you he's capable of.
She gives him a small smile in return, puts a hand in her pocket and fondles the gift she carries everywhere she goes. He knows it's a nod to his secret messages. It stands for 'You're my everything'.
She keeps the switchblade with her even when she's wearing a dress after work. Red this time, the color of passion.
She wants to surprise him: König always comes to her before nightfall, but this time, she wants to go and visit him. She wants him to take her in the middle of black steel and acrid gunpowder while she's dressed in blood.
"Be a darling and fix me a cup of coffee, will you?"
She's stopped by Phillip Graves of all people. Another man who has never paid her any attention. Apparently, red cloth is the same thing for evil men as it is for the enraged animals in bullfighting shows.
She does stop, but she doesn't obey his wishes. She just stares him down like he's filth: another thing she thought she could never do.
I'm not your coffee girl.
"C'mon honey. I've had a bad day." The man only seems to feed off from her silent scorn: like it's some dark game they're playing now. "You could make it so much better."
For fuck's sake…
Here is a man who disrespects everything about her: her position as a cleaner, her value as a woman, her rank as a shy being who is too kind for this world. She's simply a doll who doesn't know how to kill, who doesn't know how to say no. This man however, won't take no for an answer.
"I'm not here to serve coffee," she says with pure ice.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. And I'm off duty, too."
"Thought we could have a little chat, you and I."
"Why?"
"You seem like an interesting woman."
He seems pleased with the fact that for some reason, she's still here, that he has her attention. Thinks he's winning her over with some yucky flirting.
"And wearing a red dress like that…" He tsks, as if it's a crime for a woman to wear red. "Red can drive a man crazy, darling."
She understands why she has been invisible to everyone except König up until this point.
Because deep down, she knows if she would carry herself in full, show herself to the world as the woman she truly is, she would instantly attract love, and power, and hunger, and lust.
"I'm going to go now, sir."
"Tell you what. You serve me that coffee and I'll let you go."
She catches sadism in that stare. And to think she had always found Graves to be somewhat… arrogant, perhaps, but not cruel. The man obviously has a Napoleon complex, but he was not supposed to be sadistic.
How wrong she has been.
She knows she could just get out of the situation by filling that mug the bastard can't fill himself because of some stupid need to have a powerplay moment with an innocent little girl who happens to wear red.
But she doesn't want to. König would have ripped this guy's head off by now.
"I'm off duty," she repeats.
Fuck these men who are always looking for a plaything.
Graves rises from the chair. She's both cold and sweaty by the time he has taken a step, two, three.
But men are a bit stupid sometimes.
They think dresses don't have pockets.
When he takes the fourth and last step, with joy-tinged cruelty in his eyes, she flicks the knife out and open, and simply stabs him in the supposed direction of the organ called heart.
It feels thrilling, pure power: to sink that knife there and catch a man – a soldier of all people – unawares.
So this is what it feels like…
The hurt in his stare doesn't necessarily come from pain, but from the realization that he has made a huge miscalculation.
He looks down at the small knife that will be the end of him, then at her, the woman he thought was just a simple, shy cleaner he could bully into submission.
"You fucking–bitch," he gasps. Weakly.
By the time she pulls the knife out and stabs him again, she's somewhere far away. It hits him in the stomach, and he still doesn't do anything about it, and that's the moment she finds pity, and mercy, and horror.
She turns and stumbles, then runs from the room, unsure if the thump on the floor behind her is real or imagined.
"You fucking whore…!"
The shout is real enough though, and she runs, runs, with a sharp little knife in her hand for what seems like an eternity. That flight is a prolonged medieval torture moment that ends in front of König's door.
Her titan is as calm as ever when he opens the door, and tilts his head when he sees she's breathing fast.
"I think I killed Phillip Graves," she informs with eyes wide.
He blinks, then immediately looks at her hand, the knife, the blood. She goes to him, lifts a hand to his shirt in a desperate attempt to find support. There's not even that much blood. She thought killing would be much messier.
König said it would be messy.
"I… He…"
Her hands won't even shake. All her senses are blown wide and sharp, she sees everything, hears everything, but her hands won't shake.
Is she a psychopath?
"I killed Phillip Graves," she repeats, looks at his chest, clutches at the knife, clutches at his shirt.
The door behind her closes, and König takes hold of her shoulders with warm, warm hands.
"Well done, Engel," he says with such joy, such unbound pride that it snaps her back into reality.
Her jaw starts to tremble, her teeth clatter, she raises her eyes to him…
"He… He wanted coffee, and to talk, and he liked my dress, and–"
"Did he touch you?"
He asks it like it's far more important than what she has just done. She has to shuffle through her memory, but she finds no recalling of Graves laying a single finger on her.
"No."
He was about to. Right?
He was. He threatened me–
"Don't shed tears for him," König says as he looks down at her with mesmerized awe and infatuation. "I can promise you he doesn't deserve them."
Then he hugs her, squeezes her and just holds her, and she's still holding on to the murder weapon.
What will everyone say? What will my friends say?
"My little angel is good with a knife," the titan laughs proudly somewhere high above her.
People have killed each other since the dawn of time.
These things happen.
I'm not the first murderer on this planet.
"My poor little… He was a bad man, Engel. I promise you that."
It's not a big deal. He was a killer too.
He could've died in the field…
"I'm going to jail," she whispers on his shirt. She wants to let go of the knife, but fears it might hurt him or her when it falls.
And she remembers she's not dealing with normal people.
"They will kill me for this," she says with distant realization.
"No they won't," he strokes her hair like she's the best pet he has ever had. "I will take the blame. It was my knife, ja?"
She pushes herself away to look at him, then nods slowly. Her jaw just won't stop trembling.
"Good girl," he pulls her against him again, so fondly that it forces out a whimper.
"Mh."
"Come here," he coos while already holding her so impossibly close. He's surprisingly good at this: at comforting her. Or then it simply feels uncommonly good to have someone sturdy to hang on to while her life and identity are falling apart.
"I'm not sure if he's dead," she whispers when the embrace lingers on. König breaks the hug immediately.
"You didn't confirm the kill?"
She must look like a shy cleaner again, because his resolve is stone cold and solid.
"Engel, I will go and finish it. Where is he?"
She tells, because he would find out anyway. He would start a manhunt and cause even more ruckus.
But when his hand reaches the doorknob, when he's already about to go and finish her crime on top of taking the full blame for it, he turns.
"Do I have your permission?"
Her jaw slowly stops trembling, and a soft sweetness spreads through her heart. The elite soldier, the mass murderer, asks for her permission.
She is more than just special…
"Yes," she whispers, and he gives her a curt nod before storming out the door.
And he's not living in the 21st century.
Instead, he walks in the world of gladiators, rages in a blood-drunk arena, lives in a time where killing was the norm. He solves problems with physical force: it's just that simple. There is no complex society, there are no rules other than the rules of the heart and the loins.
Anyone who disrespects her will get the blade, anyone who might take her away from him will make him do whatever is in his power to prevent it.
And he has the ultimate power: the power of violence.
He comes back surprisingly clean: only a tiny speckle of blood on his camos and some vivid-colored grime on his hands.
"Done."
She nods with solemn silence. She's done, too. Done with everything, because everything's gone. No matter how high the sun is, she will walk in darkness from now on.
"I believe you Engel. He swore he didn't touch you."
And God.
She might be special, but a dying enemy's, a man's word is more worth to him than hers. As if she would try to protect Graves from his wrath by lying.
And Graves wasn't even dead…
But he is now. Probably tortured too to get the truth out about not soiling her with his paws.
"Did anyone see you..?"
"No. But they will know it was me."
It's another gift to her. Another murder. And her purity, intact, in exchange for a compliment, a testimony of his character during a lazy coffee break. For a few kisses on his scars of abuse. For letting him fuck her like a beast.
Her gifts are burning tears, soft flesh and tight little cries…
His gifts are cold, black steel, hot, white cum and a stream of crimson blood.
"Thank you…"
"I would do anything for you." He bows his head, a little nod to inform her that he is hers to command. "Anything you want, just ask."
She's at home in hell, filled with guns and knives and a fallen god. She knows he will take her again tonight, just like he has done every night in the past weeks. In every position imaginable, grunting, howling, panting, laughing how sweet she is, asking if she likes what he is doing to her. She has always whispered yes through tears of hot joy.
Sometimes, they come together and their gazes lock, and it feels like drifting into a starless space with him. He strokes her hair and coats her with whispers of love before they fall asleep. They always curl up together in the cover of womblike darkness, with soft little smiles on their faces, safe from all evil.
"Can you keep me safe…?"
It's a sad little question, but she doesn't feel weak. She knows he is lost in her too: especially when she's wearing a dress the color of blood, especially when she looks at him like he's her God.
"Please keep me safe."
He comes to her carefully, answers her summons. She's pulled into a familiar embrace, and she doesn't even think about Graves anymore: she thinks about whether König will take her on the bed that smells of acid sweat or on the wall next to the gun rack.
"Always, Engel. I promise."
She holds the most powerful weapon in her tiny little hand. A dark, fallen titan who has risen from the depths of the earth to pledge himself to her, body and soul, while her innocent little dresses flutter in the wind and make everyone believe she's a victim. But she doesn't feel sorry.
Because it's just like he said.
They belong together, she and him.
🖤 🖤 🖤
Taglist:
@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls
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fr4nk-1e · 1 month
Text
"Just Toji."
who would have said that Toji would find comfort in you, his neglected servant?
warnings: abuse, malnutrition, slavery? (reader is bought by zenin clan), Toji being Toji and treating you harsh but having his own way to show he cares, english is not my mother language so feel free to correct me!
words ≈ 1.6k
(i know toji got his scar when he was a kid but this oneshot is not settled in any time so the timeline is up to your imagination)
the trope of being toji's servat got inspired from a bot on c.ai but because the app has problems rn i'm not able to find it and can't credit who created the bot because i don't remember the username either, but i'll put the credits here when i'll finally find the bot🥹
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"Master Toji, your breakfast is ready." knocking at his door, you call out for him. Not hearing any response, you knock again. "Master Toji?"
"Go away." he grumbles, not even bothering to get out of bed. You sigh and open the door to his room, walking in with a teapot which you set on the nightstand. He doesn't even look at you, his face buried in the covers when he speaks again. "I said go away."
"I'm afraid I can't ignore your father's orders." you say, opening the curtains to let some light into his room, getting a grunt out of Toji as he feels the warmth of the sun on his skin.
"Shouldn't you be listening to me?" his tone is harsh and raspy. He shifts on the bed to lie on his back and puts his arm over his eyes." "You're my servant."
"That is true, I am assigned to serve you at the moment, however..." walking to his wardrobe, you take out a clean kimono for him and put on the chair next to his futon. "...your father... he is my boss, he is the one who bought me and... you know..."
"Yeah... I know." he mumbles, his tone softens, showing that he understands. His hand reaches for a mug and he takes a sip of the tea you brought, his eyebrows knitting together at the pulsating pain that went through the wound on the corner of his lips. "That damn old man."
As he sits up, you notice small drops of sweat going down his temples and neck which shine in the sunlight. You also notice his worn-out expression and that he generally isn't in a good shape. His muscules are twitching slightly - it gave you a feeling that he must still feel shaken up, also his pillow is wet. You realize he must had the same nightmare again about the day when his father threw him into a pit full of curses but you know it's a sensitive topic for him.
"Does it still hurt?" you ask, looking at the wound he has from that day.
"Nah... only a bit." he answers, trying to sound tough. "Nothing I can't handle."
You nod, deciding not to pry any further and take the empty mug and teapot.
"Like I said, your breakfast is ready. Do you want me to bring it here or..."
"Of course." he snaps, sounding a bit more harsh than he wanted to. "I'm not leaving this room today. They can kiss my ass, I don't care."
They means his father and other members of the clan that can't go a single day without insulting him for not having cursed energy, calling him useless or threatening him with curses just for fun. Sometimes they even release a living curse to attack him, just for fun. They rarely hide their cruelness and you understand why he's so disgusted in them that he can't even say their names.
You just nod at his response and walk to the door. "I understand. I'll be right back then."
As you leave, Toji lets out a long, heavy sigh. Relationship between you two was... unusual. And a bit tense but t at the same time, quite comforting for both of you. He, unwanted by his own clan, abused and treated like shit. You, also unwanted by your own clan, sold off to someone else, used, abused and also treated like shit. He doesn't like to admit it but he finds comfort in the similiarity of the misery of your lifes. Even if he doesn't like this feeling, he feels connected to you because you're the only one person who truly understands him... and also the only one person who doesn't hate him.
You come back a few minutes later with a bruise on your face. Toji tries to act like he doesn't care but he can't help but feel concerned.
"What the hell happened to your face?" the tone of his voice is harsh but there is a bit softness in it.
"I... I broke a glass." you didn't need to add anything else because you both understand what that means. Breaking something means punishment. Even if it was just an accident. Both of you could experience it on your own skins many, many times. Way too many.
He just nods at your words and takes the tray from you with his breakfast. But he doesn't eat, he just stares at it blankly. Then he looks at you. His eyes wander on your skinny hands and arms... sharp jawline... thin collarbones... Then his gaze meets yours. He looks worried but also... angry.
"When was the last time you ate?"
Your eyebrows rise and embarassed smile appear on your face at his sudden question. You gulp nervously before answering. "M-Master Toji, you don't need to worry about it..."
"When was the last time you ate?" he repeats his question, his tone harsher than before.
"Two days ago..."
Your answer is quiet, hoping he won't hear you. But he hears you loud and clear. He grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit next to him. Then he gives you half of his food.
"Eat."
"M-Master Toji, it's you-"
"Eat." he sounds angry. Or it's better to say... frustrated.
"But-"
"You're my servant. It's an order." he gives you a cold glare, but deep in his expression you can see concern. "Eat."
You sigh and give in. As you start eating, he starts eating too, looking at you all the time to make sure you're getting all important nutritions you need. His sight doesn't leave the space to argue, so even if you feel extremely embarassed, you eat all of the food he gave you. But there is no words in the world that could express how grateful you feel.
As you finish eating, he focuses on the bruise on your face again.
"Come closer."
With a sigh, you lean closer, letting him have better view of the bruise. Being this close, he could see dried tear stains that were still on your face. His thumb rubs gently over the bruise, trying not to cause you any more pain.
"Does it hurt?" he asks.
"Not rea-"
"Don't lie."
"...It does."
After that, Toji does something you thought he would never do. His hand find it's way to the back of your head and brings you closer to his chest, trapping you in a gentle embrance. As you freeze, a bit shocked by his move, he rubs your head gently with his fingers, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I hate being treated like shit but... seeing you hurt..." he pauses for a moment. "I hate that even more."
"Master Toji, please don't worry about me... I'm really oka-"
"No. You're not." his tone sounds frustrated again. He pulls you even tighter against himself. You can feel that he can't contain his own emotions. "Stop lying to me, god damn it... I know you're not okay. I know how servants are treated, especially the one who are bought... like you."
You sigh, letting yourself lean against him, relaxing a bit.
"I got used to this." you mumble.
"You shouldn't." his tone is in between harsh and soft. "This isn't right. You shouldn't get used to this." you pull away, just enough to look into his eyes.
"Just like you shouldn't let your clan treat you like this only because you can't use cursed energy."
Something snap inside of him as you said that. As if it was something he needed to hear. Not something he didn't know about, but something he needed to hear from someone else to really believe this... to understand that he can take action.
"You're right. You're damn right." he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. He seems mad at himself for agreeing to be abused... even if he couldn't do anything about it. He seems even more frustrated for letting you be treated the same way. After a moment of silence he looks at you with something you never saw in him before. A desire. "Let's get out of here."
"Wh-What...?" you stutter, confused and a bit shocked by his words.
"Let's run away. Together. You and me." his eyes show pure determination. "We deserve better, Y/N."
His words leave you stunned and cause you to hold your breath for a second. You stare at him with your mouth oppened before speaking. "M-Master Toji, I-I..."
"No more Master." he interrupts you. "Just Toji."
"Alright, Toji..." you gulp nervously, fighting your thoughts. "Are you sure about this? What if they start looking for us?"
"I'm strong." as for confirmation to his words, he squeezes you tighter in his embrace. "I can protect you." his determinated gaze help you realize that he is serious about this. That it is really happening and it is real - even if it feels unreal. "Please, Y/N. I won't do this alone. I don't wanna leave you here."
"I don't know..." your hesistation is understandable. If they'd find out about Toji's escape he would maybe get thrown into a pit full of curses again but you... you have the right to fear the worst. "What if they..."
"They won't kill you." his hand rest on your head again in protective manner and strokes your hair gently. "I told you, I'll protect you. I won't let them get their hands on you. I promise."
The hesistation and fear are still there but Toji's determination helps your desire to be free overcome these feelings. You trust him and his rage. Besides, he's right. Both of you deserve better. And just like he won't do it without you, you are not be able to do it without him. It's both of you or endless suffering.
"Alright... You're right. Let's get out of here, togehter. You and me. Y/N and just Toji."
i didn't forget about my other works!! i'm going through hard time lately and i need some more time to work on them, i hope you're not getting too impatient🥹
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 11 days
Text
Part two to my mean Eddie X popular reader fic.
Minors shoo. More angst and Eddie being a meanie.
💌
You ignored Eddie for the next few days, anytime he tried to get your attention you wouldn't let on that you noticed. His words still rang in your head and you couldn't ignore how badly they had hurt you.
If all you were to him was just sex then he could use his own hand to get his pleasures, or find some other girl who would fall for his charms. Though the thought of Eddie being with anyone else makes you feel physically sick.
After all the weeks you had been together you still didn't mean anything to him? Fuck you were so stupid to think that maybe just maybe Eddie would have feelings for you.
Steve has been your friend for a long time so when he notices your mood this morning while driving you and robin to school he did his best to cheer you up.
Fuck how could you not want a guy like Steve? He was sweet, kind and would treat you like a princess. Not like something he was ashamed of.
Was that what was wrong with Eddie? Was he ashamed of you because you were from the dark side and he was against everything you and your friends were?
Noticing your mood dip again, Steve pulls you into a hug and kisses your hair gently. "Whoever's making you sad is not worth it honey" you nod and feel your lip wobble but firmly decide that Eddie is not worth crying over again.
You kiss Steve on the cheek then head into school with Robin. She goes to chat with her friends in band practice so you're left alone. That's when Eddie approaches you, his brown eyes flashing with annoyance.
"That's who you've been ignoring me for? Steve?" He asks looking disgusted and you glare at him. He was not going to say shit about Steve right now.
"He's my friend asshole. I wish I was interested in him because he's kind and sweet to me. Unlike you" Eddie scowls and shakes his head.
"Why are you so pissy? We agreed this was just sex" your heart clenches and you find the courage to get the words out.
"Well I don't want just sex okay, I want more and you...you don't. So why are we even doing this, maybe we shouldn't" Something flickers in Eddie's eyes before the mask goes up completely.
"Fine by me princess" he doesn't even seem like he cares and it breaks your heart. "Fine" you whisper and then straighten up and walk away from him.
Walk away and don't look back, even if your heart is breaking.
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smuthospital · 7 months
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⭐️Yandere Kylar x Reader⭐️
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Premise: You're a streamer, and your biggest fan really really likes you
Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, gn reader
Minors DNI
Bright lights flash in your eyes, your fingers rapidly bashing buttons on your keyboard, your other hand furiously clicking your mouse. You whine as your character suddenly falls to the ground, dead.
"Ok, guys! Ok, I get it! I know I'm not that good at this game! No need to tease me!" You laugh. Inside, you're a bit peeved. These stinky bastards aren't here for your gameplay so they better shut up. Shut up and enjoy their eye candy. You're currently streaming an online first-person shooter. You made your little hobby into a little side hustle not too long ago. Guys love watching hot people play games and it's proven to be profitable. "I'm cute? Well thank you, Mr. Husband!" This guy is a regular. Gotta give him those shout-outs he practically pays for.
As much as it hurts to deal with these weirdos, It helps with expenses. You've even seen Robins username pop in and out quickly, probably hoping you didn't see. At first, you were uncomfortable with acting all sweet for your audience, but you warmed up to the idea when it started staving off your bastard Landlord at the orphanage you live in, Bailey. You play games dressed sexy, say sweet dumb things and the money comes pouring in.
These poor, lonely guys send you money in hopes you'll give them a crumb of attention, and you do. Sometimes, you say their names. You don't exactly care that you're taking their money at all. It's a gift! It's not like you forced them to give you money, nor did you even ask. They just want a chance to get in your pants and you're not gonna stop them from dreaming. You can't count the number of times people in the chat have asked if you have an onlyfans.
You'd never, of course, date one of these pigs. You imagine your viewers are stinky, slimy, greasy and would cum in their pants at just seeing you in person. Their whole body is probably sticky to the touch and shower maybe once a month they probably have piss filled mountain dew bottles on the floor next to their pc and shit stains on their seat. You're pretty sure a few guys in the comments are jerking off as you stream this very second.
A few times, you've received ominous messages in the comments from different users, almost threatening you for some ridiculous problem they have with you. How you play, what you're wearing, or just your face, so you make sure to always hide your location and are very vague about your personal life. You're used to them being weird, saying things about what they'd do to you if they were alone with yo- Just have to learn to ignore it. You calm yourself down.
"Well, that's enough for today, I'm getting sleepy! It was nice playing with you today. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, love you!" You blow a kiss at the camera. You see people commenting their 'i love you too's and whining about how you could stay a bit longer' in the chat before you disconnect. You made $540 from that two-hour stream. You received most of it from the same person. Mr.Husband. Not one minute after closing the stream, you get a message. You thought you disabled direct messages? You notice that it's to your personal account that's open on another tab from an unnamed account. No bio, no profile picture.
New user: Hey
New user: Do you want to meet up sometime? For coffee?
You: Who's this?
New user: I'm Kylar. You can get to know me when we get coffee.
You: Uh no? How the fuck do you know me?
New user: I love your streams, pretty. Drop the fucking attitude before you piss me off. I knew you'd be more of a bitch off-camera. You just look too good to be good hearted. You have to be taught obedience. You're lucky I care about you so much.
You: Keep your tiny prick away from me. I never want to see you in my presence. Disgusting. Ugly pig. Do me a favor and never ever leave your dirty cave. Go fuck yourself
New user: Wanna watch?
*New user has now been blocked*
You stand up and walk away from your computer. how the fuck did he find your actual account? You don't even have your real name anywhere. You start to undress, not noticing your computer's camera has flicked on again.
In a dark room, a man fists his massive cock slowly, eyes trailing up and down his obsession through the screen. His mind is filled with all the things he wants to do to a little cock tease like you. Ruin you, break you, crush you under his weight, teach you a lesson for whoring yourself out. A cute treat like you should have better manners "Pig...tiny prick. Ah, (y/n) I can't let you just say those things to your husband." he watches as you slide your underwear down, eyes zeroing in on the crevice between your thighs as you bend over. He shudders as hot baby batter coats his chest and thighs, continuing to roll down his cock in fat globs.
Two days later, you're walking back home from a late shift at the cafe. You plan to stream when you get home.
Something is watching you.
Cold sweat dribbles down the back of your neck. You shiver, the cold night air doing nothing to calm you. You can feel eyes drilling holes into your back. You picked up your pace, your eyes darting all around. Who is it? What do they want? You think you can hear footsteps not far away. They're getting closer. You break into a sprint and make it to Danube street before you're tackled to the ground. All air is pushed from your lungs, depleting you of oxygen. You do your best to fight against your unseen attacker, but they're far too strong. You try to scream, but only a wheeze comes out. The man roughly picks you up like a sack of potatoes under his arm and carries you into a mansion nearby.
He walked down a flight of stairs and threw you to the ground. You tried to scramble away, but he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him. You get a look at his face in the dim light. He's handsome, but his expression strikes fear in your heart. Fury is the only word you can think of to describe it. You scream and flail your limbs wildly, trying to get him the fuck off of you. You hear a crack and before you realize what happened, your cheek is burning. "Shut." Smack "The." Smack "Fuck." Smack "Up." He's seething by the end. Your head was knocked back into the ground by the last hit. A dribble of blood runs down your nose, your cheeks completely red and moderately swollen. You're no longer trying to fight him, head far too foggy to do anything but lay there in pain.
"I'm sorry, baby." He huffs, calming down a bit. "Don't fight me and that won't have to happen again." He wiped at the blood on your face with his thumb, cradling your cheek. A blush creeps over his face along with a deranged smile as he stares down at you with his unblinking eyes. "You're just so perfect. Everything." You feel a bulge forming atop you where he's straddled. He pants heavily as he looks you up and down. Hot tears slip down your swollen cheeks at the realization that you can't get yourself out of this one.
You lie completely still as he palms his crotch in front of you. "I...I'm kylar...you said I have a small prick, (Y/n)... That wasn't very nice. You should say things like that to your husband." You stare at him in awe...it's..the guy from the chat. did he find you? He's crazy. He's insane. He's gonna kill you. Your chest heaves up and down uncontrollably. You feel blood rushing to your ears, feeling the most fear you've ever felt in your entire life. He takes notice of your panic attack and tries to calm you. "H-hey! Shhh, it's ok, just breathe!" You don't hear a word he's saying and thrash wildly again. Your legs kick underneath him, but his body doesn't budge an inch.
You freeze when you feel his lips smash onto yours. He grabs your wrists in one hand above your head, effectively immobilizing you. It feels like he's trying to eat you, no longer caring about your little tantrum. "Just stay still." He mutters as his large hands roam up and down your body like he's waited his life for this moment. You feel his ever growing bulge rub against your stomach. He grabs your hands before you could try to fight him again.
"...You know...I've been giving you my good money, (Y/n). All because I knew how hard it was to live on your own. But now you're here with me. You'll be my personal house whore." You feel his breath hit your cheek. "Please...let me go. I didn't do anything to you!" You're full on sobbing at this point and to your horror, you feel his cock twitch against you.
"Oh fuck! Keep crying for me like that, baby." He's clawing your pants. Your eyes dart around the room for anything that can help you, but your blood runs cold when you just see hundreds of photos of you plastered all over his walls, some even on his ceiling. You hear a loud tear. This animal ripped your pants and underwear in the process of ridding them from your body.
You're a shaking mess as he cups your sex in his hand. "K-Kylar, please!" You cry, trying to appeal to his humanity. He groans, a little wet spot of pre cum appears on his crotch. "Say my name again." He demanded. His fingers rim around your hole, threatening to dive in. You quiver at the feeling. He unzipped his pants and you feel something impossibly large, heavy and hot slam onto your stomach with a thud.
He releases you momentarily and moves himself lower on your body, his head between your legs. His arms circle around your thighs in a vice grip. He takes a strong whiff and lets out a moan. You feel his tongue slide up and down your sex as his fingers plat around with your hole before dipping half a finger in. You're too dry, it hurts! You whine and struggle, uncomfortable. His finger dips all the way in, uncaring for your pleasure. You scream as he continues to thrust his finger inside you as his mouth engulfs your sex. He removes his finger and lifts himself off you. You sigh in relief.
That relief dies as you feel his meaty cock push at your hole. He begins to push in, but your hole resists. It's too big. He lets out a sound of annoyance before spitting on his hand and rubbing the liquid up and down his cock. It does little to help aid in his entrance. "This may hurt a bit…a lot actually." He wicked grin stretches across his face before he rears his hips back and forces his cock through. You let out a blood curdling scream he rips through your insides. He's only halfway in, your walls desperately trying to push him back out. He holds onto your waist and pulls you into him, bottoming out. You feel like you're bleeding, but you're too afraid to look down.
You can hardly breathe. His cock feels like it's in your stomach. Your body twitches, hot tears slipping past the corners of your eyes as you wheeze out please for mercy. He only looks down at you in awe at your beauty. "Oh, you're so cute like this! I knew you could take it! I know it hurts now, but just give it time." His thumb rubs at your tears. There's nothing you can do to get out of this. You feel completely helpless.He pulls himself out, and slowly goes back in, groaning. "Fuck, you're so tight" he grunts. You close your eyes and hear a flash. Your eyes snap open to see he's holding a camera. A blinding light fills your vision along with a 'click'. This sick fuck.
You let out an involuntary moan when he shoves himself into you at just the right angle. He presses himself deep inside you, holding himself there, his cock hugging your sweet spot. "Ah (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!" He chants your name like a mantra at each thrust, but you can barely hear him. All you can do is feel him. Hurt hurts so bad but feels equally as good.
You can't help but let little sounds of pain and pleasure spill from your lips as his hips ram into yours. You look up to see his eyes are completely rolled back. His lips press wet kisses to your cheek. You feel a knot start to build in your lower stomach without your consent and you feel yourself lift onto cloud nine. "Oh (Y/n), cum for me! Cum for your husband!" He moans. You feel shame and pleasure wash over you as you do just that. You clench around him, his breath hitches in his throat at the feeling. He slams into you harder and harder. The over stimulation is killing you now. It's too much!
You think he might break something inside you, you think his dick might knock your brain out of your skull with how hard he's pounding. You feel like your organs will never be the same. "Gonna get you pregnant, gonna breed you again and again. Gonna have my babies. We'll be great parents!" His muttering awakens what's left of the fight in you. "Ah! N-no, stop! I-I can't!" His hand slams over your mouth, his bottomless green eyes staring directly into yours. He lifts your legs up and puts them over his shoulders in a tight mating press.
He hits your special spot and your eyes roll back. He can reach far deeper like this. He slams into you with one final thrust, pressing into you with his full weight. You can't breathe. The over stimulation finally comes for you and you cum all over his cock again. You feel his cock twitch before unloading what seems to be an endless supply of semen into you. You can almost hear the wet sound of him cumming inside you. Your lower stomach rises by the sheer volume of cum produced. You wonder if he used to be a bull at Remy's farm or something. That thought quickly vanishes along with your whole mind as your brain is unable to produce anymore thoughts.
With a satisfied sigh, he pulls his slipping wet cock out of you, a rush of lightly pink cum following after, quickly stopping when he plugs you up with a small plug. His cock isn't even fully soft. You pray he doesn't decide he wants a round two. "That wasn't so bad, now was it? You were crying for nothing." He pants. He kisses your temple before picking you up by your waist, once again like a sack of potatoes in one arm. He walks over to a mattress on the floor and drops you on it, your body softly bouncing on top before settling in a heap. He had a mattress the whole time and still fucked you on the cold, dirty cement floor!? You hear a click and see he's chained your right angle to the wall. He smiles at you and pevks you on the lips the way a husband would before leaving to work. His mood did a 180. He's so very cheerful, his handsome face cheerfully grinning down at you like you're a cute little kitten.
"You did really well today, (Y/n), my love. I'll be back tomorrow. You won't get dinner tonight because you fought me so much, but you'll learn to behave. I want to treat you better, so please be good for me. Goodnight." With that, your new 'husband' stands up to his full height and walks upstairs, leaving you in the cold pitch darkness of the basement.
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blackopals-world · 5 months
Text
Malleus: What are you thinking about?
Noble!Yuu:...my father.
Malleus: the one you...
Noble!Yuu: no...my real father. The one who truly raised me.
Malleus: You've never talked about him.
Noble!Yuu: He was...not human. Not fea either. Humans called him a beast or a demon.
Malleus: What was he?
Noble!Yuu: A king, and a father. The only being that took pity on me, a child left to die. He found me after I was left tied up and locked in a chest.
Malleus: He must have been a kind soul.
Noble!Yuu: He was actually quite cold but he was kind. He didn't claim me as his but he protected me within his castle walls. I surrounded by beings like him who followed his commands. After they threatened me he'd cut their heads off instantly.
Malleus: So that's where you get it from.
Noble!Yuu: Yes, it was the law of beasts there. And I lived by it. That's how I was named my father's heir.
Malleus: Was he really that cold? He still seems to care for you.
Noble!Yuu: Father was very loving and sweet. He just didn't know how to show it. It was my human mother...my true mother that helped him open up.
Malleus: A beast and a human together? How romantic.
Noble!Yuu: beast...that word always made it sound like he was some grotesque animal. You'd be shocked how he actually appeared.
Malleus: Oh? Describe him then.
Noble!Yuu: Father was...ethereal. The humans always said he only looked beautiful to tempt them into his bed and trick innocent children into trusting him so he could eat them. Father was always disgusted by that claim, be hated humans, and said children her annoying. But as far as eating humans...I think he did.
Malleus: He ate people? You could have eaten you!
Noble!Yuu: He didn't just go around earing innocent people. However, when human warriors attacked us he'd kill them. One time a man injured mother in battle which was difficult already. Father lost control and transformed. He bit the man's head off.
Malleus: An absolutely understandable reaction.
Noble!Yuu: Right! Finally, someone who understands. Protecting your mate and family is the most important thing. Mother did similar things when people tried to hurt me.
Malleus: But she was a human.
Noble!Yuu: Mother chose to become like Father. To give up part of her humanity. They will be together now for as long as they live.
Malleus:You can do that! Can you tell me how?!
Noble!Yuu: You couldn't do it. Fea don't have that ability. But someday soon it will be my turn. The demonic blood will be in my veins. Once I discard my weak human side I will be the future ruler of the kingdom.
Malleus: I like your human side. I don't want you to change.
Noble!Yuu: You sound like my mother. I have lived my life as a human but I have a demon's heart. That's where I belong.
Malleus: Will that make you happy?
Noble!Yuu: Yes, more than anything. I've wanted this since the day I was saved.
Malleus: Then I'll support you.
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pink-key · 4 months
Note
How would Toby be with a romantic partner if he ever entered a relationship (like would he be toxic/romantic/etc??)
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This will be long, buckle up, as I want to tackle multiple questions.
This is an x y/n headcanons visual thing.
Warning: Terrible writing. Might be slightly dark. Very very long
Firstly, all depends on the closeness you have with Toby.
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🍨 Plaything
🍰 Congratulations, you got him interested in you. Maybe it's your overly humorous reaction to him running after you, while he was chaotically swinging his hatchets. Maybe you had a drastically different reaction to his previous victims.
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🍰 Either way, he loves tormenting you; his morals are either absent or corrupt. He likes to scare you, looking into your window to your room at night, laughing and rambling nonsense once you notice him (doesn't matter which floor you live on; he can climb). He can inflict some minor or not so pain on you, especially during his episodes, from randomly swinging his weapons in anger or excitement to pushing you around. There is no particular aim in that; he just feels like it, or his mind is fogged by voices and emotions.
🍰 Contrary to popular belief, he isn't shy, he isn't easily embarrassed. He is loud, obnoxious; he will make his opinions known to you; he will comment on anything you do or any of your clothes, personal belongings, even your family. He is here to have fun, not to worry about your feelings. As long as you entertain him, he will keep you alive, driving you to madness.
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🍰 He can and will find you anywhere, will make you look like an insane person to other people. He is good at hiding and is skilled at hurting physically and emotionally from a distance (throwing a rock in the head, displacing objects in the room to make one paranoid, etc.). A 2-meter-tall stalker running around with two axes after you? You're hilarious, y/n!
Coincidentally, his boss doesn't order him to kill you; maybe you don't disturb his work much, after all, he doesn't visit you all the time (his life doesn't revolve around you). Just the least when you expect him.
🍰Telling him he is disgusting or commenting his mental issues will result in an instant end, unless he would want to play a chasing game in the forest with you before that.
🍰 If you have an S/O, he will mock you for choosing such a pitiful person as a partner. Just hope he won't involve your S/O in your little games. He doesn't care about your personal life, but he sure knows how dear this relationship is to you.
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🍨 "We are buddies, r-right?"
🍰 You somehow managed to survive his attacks, random outbursts, mood swings, threats and, for some reason, decided to befriend him.
Honestly, being his friend is the healthiest you can get and keep bits of your private space at the same time.
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🍰 He, despite being insane, brainwashed, and amnesiac, starts to see you more than just an amusement park attraction as a cute little pet, not really an equal. Your relationship is a bit more than him having a blast using physical or mental torture on you. Your presence and personality are also fun, who knew?!
🍰 Maybe, would EVEN feel a slight parody of pity for you. Especially if you tell him your sad stories of your life. He is terrible at comforting, but if the stars align right, he can play his favorite cassettes to you with cheery songs or try to make jokes, but don't expect that to happen every time. Maybe a pat on the head would happen, usually, he would tell you to stop being sad as there are worse things to cry about.
🍰 He teases you and pranks you a lot. Doesn't matter what state you are in.
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🍰 His idea of friendship is a bit twisted. You won't mind that he will destroy your belongings if he finds them annoying, right? You are friends! Friends don't hold grudges against each other! Or if he would hurt your family members or friends because they said or did something that triggered his aggression, right? Friends forgive each other! You don't mind sharing everything with him, from food to information, because friends don't keep secrets from each other!
🍰 There is a good part to this relationship. He is kinder to you. Perhaps, would bring you a cute little trinket or object stained in blood. Friends make gifts for each other! He would appreciate it if you would give him something. Be careful what you give him, as he interprets your gifts in his own way. New hoodie? Are you implying his tastes are bad? Are you mocking him?
🍰 This is also where you can shape your friendship into a seemingly normal one. Food is a safe option. Learn what he likes to convey to him that you care about him. The man needs kindness deep inside. It will confuse him; he might get angry at you, at the world without understanding why, but the long-term result is worth the risk.
🍰 If you are in danger, he might save you. Although you will bear the guilt of some hooligans being either deadly hurt or dead.
🍰 He is also more open to you. You can hold small conversations with him, discussing music, for example. However, if he is in one of his episodes or even just mood swings, he can snap, shout at you or just be mad at you for an unknown reason, while rambling something incomprehensible and leave you alone for a week or more. Violence isn't completely off the table either.
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🍰 If you have an S/O (or just hangs out with friends), He can get jealous because you don't pay attention to him at that exact moment. He isn't always jealous, just sometimes. If he is in a terrible mood, might even hurt your S/O, he isn't shy at that stage to involve anyone in the mess. He can complain about your S/O. It's not advised to dispute him, as he can get angry at you. You are his friend! Why are you fighting him?
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🍨 Obsessive
🍰 After a lot of talking, gifts and, if you were bold enough, light friendly physical touch, he is feeling smitten by you.
🍰 You notice weird signs of attention from him, he makes some sort of romantic gestures, but it comes off as creepy to you. For instance, he thought a fur coat is what you would like, but he didn't realise you need to work on the fur instead of giving it bloody to you.
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🍰 He doesn't understand himself, his voices aren't helping him either, he is feeling hate then sickly love from one second to another. If he thinks too much about that, he twitches and tics more than usual, especially in your presence. He is more distant; he doesn't respond to you. He just sits there, shifting his eyes without focusing on anything, occasionally roughly turning to one of his auditory hallucinations.
🍰 You don't understand his ramblings or whispers, and now they are more disjointed than ever. He avoids you for a few months or even more. It worries you more than him being around you, as you're used to his presence by now. Who knows, maybe he got bored with you and just contemplates how brightly he could end your life.
🍰 He can't run from his feelings forever. As a snow during summer, he busts into your house and just dumps all his thoughts on you—just an incomprehensible jumble. You won't understand it right away until he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you into an embrace, then pushes you away, twitching, staring into your soul, waiting for your response. He doesn't say, but he already knows how you feel, even if he lies to himself. He is attentive and sensitive to human emotions, and he reads body language quite well.
🍰 You have a choice. If you deny his love, either one of things will happen. You die because he feels like it. You don't like him, if he kills you, he kills his feelings for you at the same time. Yet, there is a slim chance he can just forcefully make you like him, can lead to kidnapping, but you won't love him that way either, he would realize that, that's not right, and you are also dead in this scenario.
🍰 If you lie and accept his feelings, you won't last long, either. He notices all the slight restless movements around him, your discomfort, the way you look at him. He hates liars, so it's best to be honest and die quickly rather than slowly.
🍰 If you have a strong, twisted friendship and you learn how to talk to him, how to act when he is difficult to interact with, and you just find him with his bouquet of disorders and trauma charming in his own way, then you don't need to say much to him.
🍰 He doesn't know anything about relationships. He can come off as toxic, as his jealousy flies from low to high in a matter of moments. He is still a snappy, angry, insane serial killer, he just now sometimes apologizes if he was too rude to you. More gifts too, woo-hoo!
🍰 He is obsessive, but that also depends on a lot of circumstances. He wants to be around you as much as possible. Just your presence gives him some sort of emotional bliss when his thoughts are a bit less loud than usual. At the same time, his thoughts are chaotic and get under his skin, and he can disappear for some time. Or one of your words can trigger him; he can be violent or distant.
🍰 Dates with him are attempts to replicate what he sees in movies. He watched whatever old VHS he found in abandoned cabins or houses in the woods, so it's pretty vanilla and traditional, dare I say: eating ice cream together, watching movies, slowly dancing to some old music. He uses old pickup lines too if he feels particularly spicy.
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🍰 He isn't touchy. He is touchy unless there is a sinister goal in mind or he wants to be annoying. Toby subconsciously associates touch with bullying or violence. You have to teach him to appreciate affection and kindness, and it will take you a lot of time.
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🍰 Eventually, with a lot of pain he adjusts to your taction. He likes to sit next to you, shoulder pressed against yours, while resting his head on your shoulder or head, enjoying peace and silence, while you fidget with his fingers, occasionally placing brief kisses on bruises on his hand. He likes small touches. Once he learns what a surprise hug is, he abuses the life out of it. Be prepared to have mini-heart attacks when he screeches into your ear and hugs you from behind while you return from a small grocery trip back home. Other than that, his level of tactility remains the same.
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🍰 His mask and goggles are also mental protection for him from the world. You notice that he takes them off when he is around you.
🍰 He is weak for compliments..even if he overthinks, in some instances, becomes angry or sad, whatever mood hits at the moment, but deep down he is squealing. He will hint at that in his own way by trying to compliment you. This is also important as at times he feels paranoid you are plotting something against him, so compliment him when you can.
🍰 Small acts, like maybe washing his bloody clothes or sewing them as they have a lot of holes, makes him intensely love you. He just stares at you, you just think he is probably hallucinating something.
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🍰 Movies showed what women truly desire, so he is a gentleman, ..tries to be, so he would bring you flowers that he probably snatched from a nearby garden. Would keep the door for you, all that, his twitching, ticking, can make it unpredictable. If you're slammed by the said door on your side, trust him, he didn't mean it.
🍰 If you see him just lying down and doing nothing for days, don't try to extremely cheer him up or, goodness forbid, say "smile some more." Just be by his side, be patient. He will become cheery again soon.
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🍰 He is jealous, he cares about your attention more than ever. So be careful how you act around your friends, family, or strangers if you want them to be at least alive by the morning.
🍰 His mind can be fogged by rage sometimes, so stay out of his way, he isn't in his head when he is like that.
🍰 Oh, if you have an S/O while he is in this state. No more of that S/O, maybe not you either. If anyone dares to flirt with you, no more of that person, either. You can beg Tobs to just end the lesson with a severe beating but good luck with that. He may switch his unstable bloodthirst onto you if you try too hard.
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If you reach this, thank you for reading this war and peace, hope this all makes a bit of sense lmao.
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vanteguccir · 3 months
Text
Body hurting | Harry Styles
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Harry Styles x Y/N
Summary: Where the hate that Y/N has been receiving on social media gets her on a path that she couldn't come back alone from.
Warning: Eating disorder, dysmorphia, self-hatred, comparison. PLEASE read with caution!!
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N was home alone for the second week in a row, and to say that things were easy would be a big lie. Her days were always the same: Spending hours doing different physical exercises and other hours reading the most horrible comments from Harry's fans.
She could never say they were bad people, after all they loved and cared about Harry, but there was something within the fandom against her, and she wondered if it was because she wasn't famous or because she wasn't thin.
Her heart told her that she shouldn't worry about it, there were sweet people who defended her and always presented proof of how much happier Harry seemed to be when with her, but her mind screamed that it was option two.
Hours of sleep were lost with Y/N ​​in front of the mirror, without any clothes and with her hair tied up, her dark eyes with big bags underneath wandering over every part of her body while her brain made records of absolutely all the negative parts.
To say that she wasn't in agony every time she saw an old article about Harry's exes or comments comparing them all to her was an understatement, she could only feel disgusted with herself and her body, while all her past traumas came back with full strength.
With Harry away it made it easier for her to do her fasting and her long hours of physical exercise, in addition to going days without ingesting anything more than one or two leaves of pure lettuce, and lots of water. The feeling of the cold water running through her body and reaching her empty stomach was pleasurable, and all she could think about was how thin she only felt when her stomach was empty.
And without even realizing it, her best friend became her scale, and her greatest partner became her seamstress' measuring tape. Y/N had even printed out some images of the body models she dreamed of having every day, and pasted each one of them in different corners of the house, especially in the kitchen, with strong messages full of triggers that made her think twice before opening the refrigerator or cupboard.
It wasn't surprising that she had an exaggerated reaction when she was told that Harry would have a week without shows, and that in that week he would return home and, consequently, to her. Y/N wasn't prepared to see him again, or rather, she wasn't thin enough to do so. Her weak legs ran around the house, tearing off all the photos and messages stuck to doors and walls, storing them in a far away place, where he wouldn't find.
She tried to take a long shower and brush her teeth repeatedly to get rid of the smell that she got from the lack of food. And then she felt a little ready for what was to come.
It wasn't long before the sound of the key in the main door was heard and the doorknob turned, the tall, dark figure appearing in the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and a big smile on his face, his emerald green eyes searching for her.
Y/N smiled one of her best smiles and ran to meet him, careful not to throw her full weight against him. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as his large hands encircled her waist, the worry that he would feel the fat on her back regions running through her mind. But what she didn't notice was the confused look on Harry's face as his fingers felt how much smaller she was, and he wondered if she had started some kind of diet.
"I missed you so much, H." Y/N murmured against his shoulder.
"Not as much as I did, lovie. Every day, I just thought about having you with me, encouraging me and loving me, and then rewarding me." Y/N felt her body tense at the mention of the intimacy they both shared, the thought of him seeing her body, even though he had already seen it so many times that he had memorized every detail, made her fear.
"Why don't we take this suitcase to the bedroom and then see what we do?" She interrupted the moment, walking away with a fake smile and taking the suitcase from the taller man's hands, starting to climb the stairs, leaving a confused and worried Harry behind.
××××
Two days had passed, days full of lies on Y/N's part and worry on Harry's part. Y/N skipped breakfast, using the fact that Harry woke up after her as an excuse, saying that she had already eaten breakfast; At lunch she couldn't just lie or make some excuse, so she simply took a spoonful of the food that the brunette cooked with so much love, and spread it across the plate, trying to give the impression of having a full plate; At dinner she simply said that she wasn't hungry and that she lost the habit of eating dinner after Harry went on tour.
The days went on like this, Harry felt confused about the situation, but it didn't seem like he didn't believe it, so a debate raged between whether to bring up the subject or not.
Until one day. Harry woke up with the morning sun shining through the open curtain, which Y/N ​​opened every day, his body was warm from the duvet and Y/N's scent surrounded it, like Saturn's rings.
The man got up and did his routine, going to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and changing, ready to go down to meet his loved one, who was always waiting for him with a big smile, sitting at the kitchen counter with her cell phone in hand and a cup of coffee, which was just for him.
But today was different, as Harry went down the stairs a muffled sound became clearer, until his brain registered that the sound was of crying, with a frown the man quickened his pace and chased the sound, concern settling in his eyes.
It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the fetal position on the main sofa in the room, the cell phone in her right hand while her left hand covered her mouth, trying futilely to stifle the sobs that broke from her throat.
Harry ran closer, kneeling on the floor in front of her seat on the sofa and placing his hands on the girl's knees, stroking them lightly.
"Y/N what happened? Who made you cry like this?" His green eyes migrated from her half-covered face and her cell phone.
"H-Harry-" Her voice broke as the taller man's name came out as a whimper.
"I'm here, baby!" He got closer, wrapping his hands around the smaller girl's shoulders, placing his forehead on the top of Y/N's head, breathing in her scent.
"Harry, I don't think I can do this anymore..." Y/N whispered.
"Do what, my love?"
"Us, Harry." The man moved quickly, astonished by his girl's response.
"Did I do something? It was one of those fake news that I'm cheating on you, wasn't it? Baby, I never-"
"No Harry, no. I know you would never do that! And you didn't do anything, I just..." She sighed and looked into his eyes, feeling guilty when she saw the pain in his emerald orbs. "Look at me, Harry, look at this." She pointed to his body, letting a loud sob out.
"What should I be seeing? Besides a beautiful woman."
Y/N laughed in disbelief, shaking her head and feeling a hint of anger start to rise, it was clear he would say something like that just to please her.
"Harry, I'm looking horrible. I don't have visible ribs or a protruding collarbone, I don't have a thigh gap or hip bones, I don't have thin wrists and I don't have well-marked cheekbones, I don't have pointy shoulders and I don't have a defined jaw... I don't have delicate hands or thin fingers, my waist isn't extremely thin and my breasts are too big. Harry, I'm not perfect and I can't give you what you need."
At this point Y/N was crying a desperate cry, with strong sobs that made her body shake and thick tears that ran down her face. Harry had tears welling up in his eyes as his hands balled into fists in anger at whoever had put these thoughts in his beloved's head.
"Y/N, who made you think like that? How can you deduce what I want?"
"Harry..." She closed her eyes tightly, her mind betraying her by bringing up images of Camille, the girl seemed to be kind, but Y/N couldn't help but feel jealous of her perfect body. "I'm not like them, I'm not like her!"
"Who? Baby, please-"
"I'm not like Camille or like Kendall or like Taylor, and I can't give you the pretty, thin image you need, the media hates me and I've lost count of how many times they've told you that you're blind from being with me, and I can't disagree with that."
Harry shook his head in denial, feeling angry at the media and everything they post and say with the intention of always offending someone.
Y/N continued to sob, and the force her body exerted with the act left her weak, the lack of food began to appear again and her eyes saw stars while her head swam. Harry grabbed her arms quickly, steadying her.
"Baby if you keep crying like that you're going to hurt yourself. Take a deep breath for me, hm? I'll get you a glass of water."
The brunette ran to the kitchen, starting to look for the decorated glass that he knew was the girl's favorite. While opening drawers and cabinets, his green eyes found a piece of paper glued to the front of the bottom shelf, where some industrialized sweets were kept. Harry took the paper and pulled it out, seeing a photo of a body exactly as described by Y/N and a note next to it, his eyes widened at the horrible mentions written there and he tried to get up quickly and return to the room, holding the paper firmly in your hands.
"Y/N what is this?" The brown-haired girl looked up quickly, her greatest fear happening right before her eyes. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "Tell me something, when was the last time you ate anything?" She shook her head, ready to say it was the day before, but Harry interrupted her. "I mean a whole meal with a healthy amount."
Y/N remained silent, her eyes now fixed on the floor covered by the shag carpet, the older man took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He walked over to the smallest one and put the photo in his pants pocket, promising himself to look for others like it deep in the house.
"Y/N this is a serious situation, you can't keep something like this to yourself!" He couldn't help but feel frustration, he felt guilty for feeling like that because he knew that it wasn't Y/N's fault, but with the way that all of that came down, it just made his head confused and upset.
"Harry I'm fine, that was just-"
"Baby I bet you haven't eaten in days, do you think this is healthy, that this will get you somewhere other than a hospital bed? Letting this situation compromise you like this because of other people... That's not good for you. You don't need to have the same body as them, you don't need to have bones showing or a flat stomach to be magnificent. Those pants you're wearing were tight until a few weeks ago, and look at them now, they're baggy..."
Y/N kept her gaze down, her eyes were filling with uncontrollable tears that threatened to flow at any second again, her cheeks were heating up and the force she was exerting to contain the tears was starting to generate an unbearable headache. She knew Harry was right.
"I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me everything is okay. Just look into my eyes."
The girl slowly raised her head, her eyes focusing on Harry's beautiful green ones, which now held so much anguish and worry, a tear escaping from the corner of his right eye made her lower lip tremble. She opened her mouth to state that she was fine and that everything was going to get better, but her voice seemed to trail off for a second.
Her body hurt, her legs were wobbly and her arms were shaking slightly, she felt her head feel heavy. It was a horrible feeling, beyond normal.
"I-I... Harry, I think I need help."
She whispered, her tears flowing freely now with the weight of her words. Harry nodded vigorously, relieved that she understood that this situation was not normal, and promising himself that he would be by her side through the entire process, no matter how long it took.
And that night, after his girlfriend fell asleep, Harry cried.
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