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#and not try to please straight white men
louisshomesharry · 2 years
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@ anon
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chaoswillcalmusdown · 1 month
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the transphobia wave that sweeps swedish liberals every now and then is truly so. wild. mind boggling.
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if I had a nickel for every book i’ve read in the past year where a grown ass man starts hitting on a 17 year old girl i’d have 2 nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice
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placeinthisworld · 2 years
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Ned fulmer I am so disappointed
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nerdvi · 5 months
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In the wake of the whole james somerton fiasco and inspired by this post, I wanted to share a few of my um, soft signs, like, orange flags to detect when someone is bullshitting you.
First of all, I am on the spectrum which means 1) I tend to take what people say at face value and 2) I have a strong sense of justice which makes me prone to biases, all of which combined means I am at perpetual risk of swallowing the bullshit.
So, what to do about it? You turn on the critical thinking and pay attention.
As one of my favorite youtubers, Hannah Alonzo, likes to say: "consider the source, remember the motive". Who is talking to you?? What do you know about them?? What biases might they have?? How do they interact with your own biases?? Where are they talking from?? Is it anger?? happinness? boredom?? Also, why are they talking to you? Are they trying to sell you something?? Are they trying to convince you and why?? How do they go about the finantial motivation, if present? If you have, in this case, a white cis gay man talking to you as it he has it the worst of the worst in the world, there's probably some exaggeration and you should start to wonder. There's a good chance he's bullshitting you.
How they talk about women and POC No, no, stay with me. There's a rule I had back when I was dating men: Always beware of how they treat their mother. With the exception of extremes like mama's boys and cases of abuse, how a man treats the woman with whom they have that familial bond is a good indicator of how they are going to treat you. Do they berate her? speak ill of her? are aggressive or controlling? do they dismiss her opinions? Same with creators, and by god I tell you, specially cis male creators, queer or otherwise, always always beware of how they speak of women, how they treat women, how they treat POC. Somerton had a weird vendetta against straight women. It went mostly unnoticed. Then, he was dismissive towards lesbians and other queer women and it was once again overlooked. Then he went ahead and made sinophobic content about genres and cultures he knows NOTHING about. Again, it went unchecked. What I am telling you is IT'S NOT NORMAL. Contempt about women and non white-western cultures is not normal and if someone has them as them as an enemy or a scapegoat, they're probably bullshitting you. Take what they say and fact check it, see for yourself.
If at any point in a video or an essay you find yourself thinking "wait, really??" then it's time to fact check. Is it a bit suspicious?? is your logic telling you that's not quite how this works?? Then take to google, my friend, they might be bullshitting you. At worst, you dodge a fake fact, at best, you learn way too much about a topic you were already interested in.
Beware of the lack of nuance. I can not stress this enough. We all love monochrome, but life and societal issues are never black and white. It's just impossible, there's too many factors to consider. If you are being presented situations or anecdotes as absolute truths, you're probably being bullshitted. If it's too good to be true, it is. If it sounds waaay too convenient, it probably is. A good researcher, a serious investigator, will always have some nuance because they have done the work and checked the sources. If someone provides you 1) no nuance and 2) no sources, THEY'RE BULLSHITTING YOU.
These are the ones I can come up with just of the top of my head, I'm sure there's more and please, add them. Remember that naivité isn't a crime, I'm fairly naive and that's made me distrustful, and these are some of the techniques I've found that help me navigate through a world of information without losing myself.
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sukunas-wife · 5 months
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Sealed 1
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Sukuna had been betrayed and sealed away by fellows sourcers.
The last thing you remember was How you pulled him with you, he was just starting to learn his cursed technique. It was as devastating as his fathers technique, but he still didn’t understand how to use it properly, you couldn’t find your husband, where was he, you detached frantically carrying your son out the palace as you ran, the frantic screams of the palace help, where was Uraume you couldn’t find them either.
You’d be a fool to run straight into battle, your own skills weren’t as strong as Sukuna’s but your experience had definitely left you well off, but the Toll of Carrying the frightened Yuji and fighting as freely as you could was draining your Stamina, you could feel how you were being surrounded. Silk kimono torn from battle, you tried to outrun and take cover outside the palace after Sourcerer’s had made it in.
Just as you were going to make your escape you felt the burning against your skin before you saw the red chains dragging you back, holding Yuji to look st you in a panicked rushed voice “Run Yuji, Find Uraume or find My lady in waiting the one who always wears white robes with a black belt. Don’t let anyone catch you and don’t trust anyone until you find either your dads help or mine. Please Go.” He watched as your dug your hand into the ground catching a rock he had tried to burry in the ground long ago, “no! Mommy i don’t wanna leave you come with me.” He didn’t move from your arms as you tried to set him down “Yuji, please.” You managed to set him down holding on to that large rock muscles shaking “I’ll come get you when it’s over but you need to be safe for now.”
His teary eyes tore into your heart and shook your head no with a weak smile “Don’t cry baby” using your free hand to wipe away the un fallen tears, “Promise you’ll come back for me?” “I promise baby, I won’t leave you alone longer than I need to, I’ll be right back.” He held his little hand “Promise me like you do daddy.”
Your heart aching you took his little hand, the giant ghost of chains wrapped around your wrist and his leaving a faint star like mark on his upper fore arm and yours “See I promise, now go!” He nodded and started his run, finally out of site you let go of the rock thrashing as you’d were being dragged grabbing the chain and pulling yourself up, the chain around your ankle had become the weapon once you came face to face with the sourcerer who thought they could so easily dominate you.
🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤
The smell of smoke, your dizzy head on the floor, Sukuna was i front of you at a distance trying to break from all the chains and seals they had used on him. You tried to raise your head only to be kicked back down, causing Sukuna to thrash and yell the chains sounding like they were ready to break
“Su..kuna.” Your weak voice as you caught his eyes he looked at you, raging more when you could barely keep your head up and eyes open, “Yu.. where’s yu-“ the cries of your son forcing you up to turn and scream, the heart breaking cry as your watched a group of men carrying your son by the back of his robes, he kicked cried and screamed and looked at you when he heard your cry, the women there didn’t even flinch when you cried and screamed out hideously, your voice resembling the screams of curses and the cries of Demons. Your sons cries called out “ MOMMY! DADDY!”
“YUJI.” Sukuna’s sharp Yell as he managed to stand in his Chains
“Yuji!” Your voice hoarse as you forced your flesh to burn against the chains so you could move “yuji…” the “Ryomen Sukuna you have-“ your consciousness was in and out over the sounds of your heavy breathing and crying and you didn’t all you could to drag yourself to Yuji,
“As a result you WILL be sealed away, but first to make sure this never happens again, We will also ve sealing your son in the lines of time to assure you never come across him again, you and your supposed wife are far to powerful to risk in the line of time you will both be sealed in your respective manner.
Forced to watch as Sourcerer’s circled yuji ignoring his cries and please, ignores your screeches and tears as your son looked at you one last time with teary red eyes and red cheeks, “Daddy.. Mommy.”
Your heart shattered and screamed thrashing around when your son was gone completely. The prison realm was opened around you, and you turned to Sukuna who was surround, the chants around him as they started to seal him one by one, you locked eyes with him, your words “I love you.” His face just as he managed to say it back he was gone. Your head hanging low as you stared at the box “any last words cursed woman.” You shook your head “no words just this.” In a last minute attempt you forced out all of your cursed energy in one solid push, everyone fell, you fell weak, the man informe of your who had almost been severed managed out a choked “close.” the prison realm closing forcing you in
There you sat in the prison realm on a throne of skeletons begging to reach up and touch you. You were tired but there was no doubt in your mind now you had all the time in this work your cursed technique would be sharpened until the day you would make your escape.
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penny00dreadful · 1 year
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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️
We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!
AO3 link for those asking! 🖤
Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.
That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.
The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.
Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.
And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.
If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.
But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.
Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.
The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.
A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.
Her people.
Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.
The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.
“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.
The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.
“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”
The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”
“Eddie, what-”
Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.
“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”
Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.
Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.
“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”
“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.
“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”
“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”
“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”
“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”
“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 
“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.
Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.
“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.
“Oh shit. This is your friend?”
Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“He’s… he’s really pretty.”
That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”
“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”
Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”
Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”
“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve��s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.
“Okay.”
“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”
“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.
“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”
“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”
“Inklings? Is that the place?”
Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”
“No way.”
“Way.”
Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.
“Is it far?”
“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”
“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?
“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.
“Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.
“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 
“I think… I think I just want to get home.”
“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 
He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 
This fucking guy.
He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.
“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”
“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.
“Likewise.”
“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.
“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”
“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.
She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.
“Shall we?”
Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.
"So."
"So."
"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"
“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”
“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”
“Agreed.”
“Is it because of a bad ex?”
Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.
Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.
“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”
Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.
Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.
He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.
“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.
“Yeah, sure.”
They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.
She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”
Robin, where are you?
Are you okay?
I’m on the way.
Please be okay.
Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.
“Robbie.”
Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”
“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”
“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”
“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.
“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.
Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’
Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’
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gigabyte-flare · 1 year
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Insatiable (Part 1)
Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee
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“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”
You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.
Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.
Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in. 
Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”
Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.
You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”
You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.
“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”
“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.
“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak. 
“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”
His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.
“How are you feeling, Leon?”
Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”
“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice. 
You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman. 
“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”
“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”
He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”
“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”
“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”
You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.
Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you. 
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“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”
“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk. 
“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”
“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.
“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”
“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”
“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”
The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.
“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”
“Which is…?”
Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”
“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”
“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”
You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”
“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you. 
You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.
“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.
You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”
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How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?
But then you came, awakening something in him.
Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.
God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.
You came back to me, baby, where you belong…
“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder. 
With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.
Curse these fucking chains…
“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.
“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.
He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”
Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”
His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.
You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him. 
“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”
Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”
“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”
“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”
“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.
“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.” “I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”
You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”
“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.
“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”
Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.
You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.
“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.
You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.
“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”
Part 2
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waspredteeth · 2 months
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the thing about Damian, especially pre-Robin, is that you have to straddle a line between child and cult assassin. He’s a nuanced character, you can’t dumb him down or simplify him. (On that note: PLEASE stop calling him feral! It’s pretty racist!)
You cannot make other characters be nice and understanding to him from the start like Dick or Tim or Jason. You cannot make them treat him like a toddler below his actual age.
You also cannot make him a irredeemable psychopath who exists only to hurt Tim and sow conflict. Because that’s just straight up not true. Fanon.
Writing Damian needs to be a balance between these, and he needs this nuance to be interesting.
If everyone treats him softly, then there’s no point for Damian’s personality as it is. He is rude and arrogant and abrasive for a reason. You could argue that he’s spoiled, but he’s also a child who was ripped from a culture he knew and thrust into the arms of a white family who don’t understand him and don’t make the effort to actually teach him their views. He’s rude and angry because there is no place for him there, not until Robin, and even then he is still subject to their judgements. If everyone treats him with kid gloves, then his attitude comes without justification and doesn’t make sense.
Please remember that when Damian first appeared in comics, everyone except Talia disliked him. Bruce wasn’t sure what to do with him, but he also was quick to scream obedience. From Dick’s inner monologue in Resurrection of Ras al Ghul and his very early interactions in Batman and Robin, he didn’t like the kid and thought him a burden to bear in the place of Bruce. Tim never once gave him mercy after the first meeting. His inner monologue and actions all speak of hate and teenage angst - some justified, some way out of line.
Damian’s anger is then reasonably apparent. He doesn’t fit in. He can’t. But he doesn’t seek violence. He doesn’t try to murder everyone in their sleep like some people think. It’s shocking that fanon’s interpretation of him is a boy who goes for the throat in every interaction. He’s snippy, but in every single comic I’ve read he’s never tried to fight someone without a justification. If he was an X-Men level telepath, then I’d argue that his actions would become worse if he really knew what people thought of him at first glance.
If you’re a child that knows he is hated, then you lash out. You test boundaries. You see what will make them exile you, hurt you. You are a brown boy surrounded by a white city in a culture that you don’t understand. You cannot see your mother again. They hate her. You cannot express yourself in a world that expects the worst. You are shackled by expectation and judgement. They won’t let you be, but they won’t let you go.
You are stuck.
And in this, you will always be.
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xxsabitoxx · 9 months
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Competition | 15k Special
Sanemi x Giyu x AFAB Reader
Warnings: MxMxF threesome, pussy eating, raw fucking, 69-ing, 69-ing while fucking, come eating, creampies, squirting, the usual
A/N: Alright here's the first 15k 3sum special! Up next is Sato/Sugu~
Word Count: 2.8k
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You weren’t sure how you ended up in the position you were in now, but you were fairly certain it wasn’t your fault. Though, the two men you were pressed between would likely beg to differ.  Drinks with the two men turned into talking, which turned into flirting, which also turned into bitching with one another before finally you were dragged back to Sanemi’s home. Something about settling “who's better” once and for all. “Oh fuck…” Your head fell back against a muscular shoulder as the man situated between your thighs brought you your third orgasm. 
“Giyu… please e-ease up!” you gasped, hips bucking upwards and into his face rather than away from it. He didn’t answer of course, mouth far too preoccupied with lapping at your cunt. “Don’t stop, Tomioka. I want her to be nice and sloppy when I impale her on my dick.” You gasped, nails digging roughly into the muscular thighs that caged you. It was a dead lock position, you couldn’t get away from either man if you wanted to… not that you would want to in the first place. 
Your back was pressed snuggly to Sanemi’s front, his arms wrapped around you just under your armpits, toying with your breasts every so often but he was too enthralled watching Giyu eat you out. Sanemi’s legs caged you in, pressing to your hips tightly while Giyu had your legs thrown over his shoulders. He had been settled between your legs for who knows how long now, nipping, sucking, and licking your cunt until you couldn’t see straight.
“Sanemi please, do something to me.” You whined, nearly delirious from the pleasure Giyu was providing you. The white haired man, who had been so damn cocky, was leaving you hanging because of how much he enjoyed seeing Giyu eat your pussy like it was his last meal. “Do something to you? Huh, Tomioka mustn't be doing a good job if you’re still thinking about me.” He drawled proudly, calloused fingers rising to roll your perked nipples between them.
You yelped, hips bucking into Giyu’s face as he continued to lap up every drip of arousal that you offered. It only took a second for his hands to find your abdomen, pushing you down and forcing you back into submission without saying a single word. “Fuck almighty…” Sanemi sneered, watching as Giyu’s nails dug into your thighs to keep you still. “...I bet I could fuck you stupid right now, sweetheart, and he’d still have his head buried down there… pussy drunk bastard.” 
Sanemi couldn’t deny the way his cock was twitching, pressed snuggly to the warmth of your back and getting some friction each time your hips bucked upwards. Still, it wasn’t enough, especially when Giyu was slurping and grunting so loudly he was making him believe your pussy was a five course meal. Nothing seemed to deter the ravenette between your thighs, not even Sanemi’s typical smart ass remarks. “Giyu.. fuck you’re gonna make me cum again…” 
He only grunted, blue eyes flickering up to meet yours. The look on your face was enough to have Giyu rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that was throbbing dully between his thighs. Giyu’s eyes met Sanemi’s next, a look of fucked-out bliss passing over his navy irises, as if taunting Sanemi. The other man didn’t really appreciate that, the spike in his annoyance manifesting physically as he kneaded your breasts. 
You cried out, the added stimulation throwing you over the edge for a fourth time as your thighs quivered. You could feel it now, how wet the sheets were just below where your ass pressed into them. Drool mixed with arousal created quite the unfortunate mess, though none of you really seemed to mind it. “Alright, fucking ease up you prick.” Sanemi scolded Giyu as tears began to leak out of your eyes, far too gone to actually say it for yourself. Giyu finally gave in, parting from your cunt with a shiny mouth and chin. 
Giyu pushed up, surveying the damage to the sheets as Sanemi manoeuvred himself out from behind you. “Don’t even think about it.” Sanemi practically growled as Giyu moved to crawl over you, eyes meeting in a heated stare as if he couldn’t believe Sanemi thought he could order him around. “I just made her cum four times, Shinazugawa. I don’t think you have any room to talk.” Sanemi huffed out an unamused laugh, grabbing a fistful of Giyu’s hair before roughly yanking. 
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking too like that, Tomioka?” You watched them, holding yourself up on your elbows as both men stared at each other. Their faces were inches apart, despite the position he was in, Giyu still looked pretty defiant. “I’m talking to you, Shinazugawa. Once you make her cum four times, you can try and act like we’re equals.” He spat, not backing down as Sanemi gripped his hair a little tighter. Instead of saying something in return, Sanemi smashed his lips to Giyu’s. You gasped, watching as Sanemi’s tongue pushed past Giyu’s lips. 
Before Giyu even got a chance to properly respond, Sanemi was pulling away. “She tastes fucking sweet and you were hogging her.” Giyu only smirked, one that faded quickly when Sanemi pushed him away. “It’s your turn to sit and fucking watch.” Giyu couldn’t fight that, moving to the other side of the bed to give Sanemi plenty of space for whatever it is he wanted to do. He stood at the side of the mattress, smiling gently at you. “Do you think you could get on your hands and knees in front of me, honey?” The nickname made you squirm, nodding to do as he asked. 
You crawled across the mattress, turning yourself to face Giyu as you got on your hands and knees. Sanemi smirked, uttering a soft “good girl” as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Tomioka made a fucking mess of you, I can go right in.” You whined out a yes, not interested in anymore foreplay when your cunt was practically throbbing with the need to be filled. You had prepared yourself for him to be rough, instead, he pressed into you slowly. 
You moaned as the dull head of his cock impaled itself in your cunt, pushing further until you enveloped it completely. He stayed still, panting softly as your walls suctioned and spasmed around the little bit of him that was inside. Giyu had to admit that Sanemi had far more self control than him, he wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back if the roles were reversed. Sanemi gave you another second before pushing more of himself in, watching you pull at the sheets until they were taut under your grasp. “Good, you’re doing so good.” 
It didn’t hurt, Giyu had truly made a mess of you, it was too wet between your thighs to hurt. There was, however, the familiar stretch, an achy feeling as Sanemi pushed more of himself inside of you. “Oh…” you whined, unable to stop your hips from jerking away from him. “Don’t try to run from me, sweetheart.” He cooed, pulling you back to him with one swift motion. It pulled the air from your lungs, pleasure ebbing through your veins as he pushed himself inside. 
Inch by inch, Sanemi could feel everything, the way your cunt clenched tightly around him before trying to push him back out, if you weren’t suffocating him so tightly, he would have chuckled. “Fuck… yeah you wouldn’t have lasted five seconds inside of her, Tomioka.” He wanted to sound cocky but his voice came out strained, forehead creasing as he bottomed out. “You sure about that, Shinazugawa? You look like you’re seconds away from blowing your load.”
Sanemi tilted his head just a bit, eyes roaming over the way Giyu was gripping his cock tightly. He would have made a remark about the way Giyu’s precum was already leaking over his fist if you didn’t clench around him.All he could muster was a quiet groan of “fuck off” as he tried to calm his breathing and not make a fool of himself by coming too fast. You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to wait as you started to try and fuck yourself on him.
 It took a fraction of a second for Sanemi’s hands to find your hips, gripping them so tightly to keep you from moving that it genuinely hurt. “Oh fuck…” you hissed, relishing in the pain as your walls squeezed him tightly. “S-shit sorry I did-ha-didn’t mean to.” he let go almost immediately, shaky hands rubbing the skin he had hurt tenderly. You relaxed, head pressing into the mattress lazily as a shiver passed over you. “Mmm s’alright.” you slurred softly, any ounce of resistance or burn was gone, all that was left was throbbing need. 
“I need you to move, Nemi.” You couldn’t get his whole name out, settling for the cuter nickname instead. A low gasp left him, the self restraint he had was wearing dangerously thin. “You sure?” he choked out, hips already drawing back slightly before rocking back into you. You nodded, moaning out a quiet “please” as he took the initiative and started rutting into you, head falling back as he relished in the drag of his cock through your velvety walls. Giyu watched, lips parted as his fist started moving up and down his length in time with Sanemi’s thrusts. 
You didn’t have the strength to keep your head up, letting it fall forward, dangling a bit as you looked down your own body to see Sanemi’s hips meeting your own. His thrusts were deep and fast, making your breast jiggle each time your bodies made contact. “Tomioka, quit fucking your fist and make yourself useful.” That caught your attention, head lifting slightly to look at the man sitting by the headboard. “Useful?” he gasped out, squeezing his length tightly as you moaned.
“Yeah, useful.” Sanemi held his gaze, eyes flickering down to your cunt and back up at Giyu, hips stuttering as he nodded his head a bit. Giyu seemed to catch on, letting himself go to crawl forward. “You want me to…?” He questioned softly, face heating up as slick squelches started to sound each time Sanemi’s hips met your ass. “Don’t make me–ha–spell it out for you.” Giyu could see his lip tremble as he bottomed out again, hips rolling into you slowly now. 
Giyu pulled his attention away from the other man, eyes meeting yours with a lazy grin. “Do you think you have the strength to hold yourself up for a second, baby?” You whined at the name, walls squeezing around Sanemi’s cock. “Oh? She liked that, Tomioka.” Sanemi’s hands held your hips a little tighter, supporting you more as you forced your head upwards “Go ahead.” you smiled at Giyu, butterflies whirling around your stomach as he moved to lay beneath you. You shivered as he bent down, kissing you quickly before eyeing Sanemi. 
You sunk your teeth into your cheek, Sanemi had sheathed himself completely inside of you, watching as Giyu got himself comfortable under your body. Giyu’s breath fanned across your abdomen, earning a shiver as he pushed himself a little more. You knew he was there when his hair tickled your inner thighs. If it weren’t for Sanemi being buried deep inside of you, your thighs would have tried to close. “Fuck… Sanemi start moving.” Giyu breathed out, shocking Sanemi a bit by using his first name. He listened regardless. 
The quick thrusts of Sanemi’s hips grounded you in reality, head turning downward. Giyus cock was inches from your face, tip flushed pink with precum oozing from it. “Ah fuck…” You let your arms relax a bit, weight shifting to lay on Giyu as his hands found your waist. You took the chance, lowering your head to lick along his shaft. Giyu’s mind went blank the moment he felt your tongue, stuttering just a bit as you wrapped your puffy lips around his irritated tip. 
He started placing open mouth kisses along your cunt, brain melting with each pass of your tongue over his slit. Sanemi’s pace had faltered, eyes watching eagerly as you started to go down on Giyu, all the while he was maybe a little too aware of Giyu’s head below him. Giyu’s tongue managed to continue lavishing your clit even as Sanemi held your hips, rutting into you at a new brutal pace. You felt your eyes crossing, squeezing them shut as you moaned around Giyu’s cock
Drool was seeping down your chin, covering his shaft and public bone with your shiny saliva. You lowered your head further, trying to ignore the build up in your gut as you took over half of his length in your mouth. Giyu’s moan vibrated against your cunt, earning a shrill whine from you as your walls clamped down around Sanemi’s cock. He cursed loudly, hips stuttering in their pace because you made it impossible to move for a moment. 
“Gonna fucking cum, aren’t you?” Sanemi’s words were directed at both of you, even though he knew both of your mouths were too preoccupied to even respond. You swallowed around Giyu, earning a strangled cry against your cunt as you felt him start twitching. Reaching forward, you gently cupped his balls, warm and heavy in your hands. For a moment, Giyu swore tears were burning his eyes as the pleasure he felt only intensified. Your mouth was suffocatingly warm, the silky-soft touch of your tongue was almost too much for him. 
And then you went and cupped his balls, massaging them gingerly until his hips were bucking up into you. The sound of your gag was enough to make Sanemi curse, hands gripping you tightly as he pounded into you with such force that your thighs and ass recoiled harshly. Everything was too much, not only for you but for Giyu and Sanemi as well. It took a fraction of a second for Giyu to lose it, cum spilling down your throat in hot, sticky ropes. You flinched, throat relaxing to keep yourself from gagging again as you worked him through his orgasm. 
 The sounds he was making continued to vibrate you. Your own orgasm built up until the dam finally broke, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your head tossed back, letting go of Giyu’s cock in the process. Both men were covered in your release, sticky and wet from the gush of fluid that left you. You cried out, tears streaking your cheeks as Sanemi’s hips thrusted into you, chasing his own release. You couldn’t breath as Giyu’s hands reached under you, pushing on your abdomen, feeling the way Sanemi’s cock dragged in and out of your slippery cunt. 
That was enough for Sanemi, his head falling forward as a silent cry left his lips. Your arms had long since given out, head now resting on Giyu’s thigh as Sanemi pumped you full of his own release. The room was quiet now, full of ragged breathing as you tried to lift yourself enough for Giyu to get out from under you. “Fuck almighty.” Sanemi choked at the sight of Giyu’s ruined appearance. The man was covered in your release, hair and all. You turned your head the best you could to see him, face turning molten hot as you realized what you had done to him. 
“Oh fuck Giyu I’m so sorry…” you tried to move but Sanemi’s hands kept you in place. He wasn’t ready to let you move yet, not even as he was softening instead of you. “Don’t be sorry.” Giyu’s face was bright red, lips swollen from everything he had done to you. “… I kinda like it.” That revelation had all of you looking away from one another. “If that’s the case… I want to try it out for myself.” Sanemi stated boldly, eyes still trailing over Giyu before switching to look at you. 
“You think you could last another round, sweetheart? I wanna try out Tomioka’s position.” All you could do was give a feeble nod, that same throbbing desire building in your gut as you felt Sanemi hardening within you again. He pulled out, creamy release following him. “You really made a mess.” it was an off hand comment as he eyes the shiny ring around his base. “Like you don’t fucking like it sloppy, Shinazugawa.” Giyu snorted, trying his best to not let you know his legs were feeling weak after everything you just did. 
“Woah wait…” you started, sitting on your knees to look back over your shoulder at the two of them. “Don’t I need to tell you who was better? Isn’t that why we ended up here in the first place?” You just wanted to tease them, watching as both men shared a glance. “We’ll worry about that another day, for now just let us fuck you.” Sanemi groaned, moving onto the mattress and nearly collapsing. “Nah…” You chuckled “I think it’s safe to say I am the better one.” Considering both men were feeling like their legs were made of jelly, you were likely right. 
3K notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 5 months
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twin peaks.
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4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog
dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump
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“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 
Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 
“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”
The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.
“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.
“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 
“Really?” Tommy asks. 
“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 
“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 
-
A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 
“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 
“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 
“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”
“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”
“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”
You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.
“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 
“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 
“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 
Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.
“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 
“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 
“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”
“We’ll see.”
-
The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 
Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”
“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.
Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”
“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”
“My new friend?” 
“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.
“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 
“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 
“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 
“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 
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—---you—--
Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 
When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”
“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 
“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 
One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 
Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 
Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 
“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”
“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 
“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.
“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 
Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 
“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”
-. . .-
Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 
Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 
“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 
You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 
“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 
You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  
“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”
Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 
“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.
“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel
“NO,” Joel barks. 
-
Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”
You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 
You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 
“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 
You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 
“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 
You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 
-
Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 
“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 
You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 
He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.
Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.
“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.
 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 
You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper
“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 
“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”
Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 
“Wait,” you whisper.”
“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 
You shake your head no. 
“Good,” he whispers. 
Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 
“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 
“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 
Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 
“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 
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---a few weeks later—
"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.
"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.
"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."
"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.
"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 
"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"
He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."
You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  
"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 
"Oh yeah?"
Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 
"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."
"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 
You look away shyly.
"What's got you all flustered?" 
"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 
Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."
"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 
"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."
You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 
Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 
Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 
“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”
“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 
“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 
"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 
----
When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 
“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 
“You were serious?” you ask. 
“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 
Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 
Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 
Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 
You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 
“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 
“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 
Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”
“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 
-
In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”
You nod and smile. 
“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 
Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 
With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 
You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 
“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 
“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 
You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”
You nod, “Yeah.” 
“He’s ready too.”
Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 
“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.
“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 
“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 
Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 
You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”
“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”
You whimper and nod. 
“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 
“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 
Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 
“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 
Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 
“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.
You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 
===
Thank you for reading!
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ashyllum · 25 days
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I am so on board with Yan Sunday physically punishing/disciplining his spouse.
In public spaces he’ll squeeze your arm so tight that it aches from the lack of blood circulation. Or he’ll dig his nails into your thigh under the table to shut you up. But that’s only if he’s really really mad. Otherwise he’ll just give you a look (to others it just looks like his neutral, polite smile— but you know better).
He has a horse crop that he regularly uses. Paddles, canes, small whips, etc. He doesn’t use his hands to hit but he does use them to grab you and yank you around. A tight hand in your hair— pulling so hard that your scalp burns. Or to grab you by the jaw to make you face him. Or to shove your head into a wall and press your face against it until it’s sore (though he prefers not to leave any marks on your face).
It’s all to set you straight. Stop resisting him, stop talking to other men, stop trying to run off, stop behaving so poorly in public— you’re his partner and you represent him now, as well as The Family. If you just listened— just gave in and accepted his teachings and his affections— then he wouldn’t have to punish you like this.
And for poor reader it’s torture. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells every second of the day, bending over backwards to please him, even when he isn’t around his servants are perched somewhere out of sight and watching you. You become terrified of stepping out of line, even the smallest mistake leaves you shaking like a leaf at the thought of punishment. It really fucks you up. It almost feels like you regress mentally, you freeze up and tears immediately prick at your eyes, you begin to tremble and your lips quiver but no sounds come out. If you do this freeze response in public, Sunday apologizes to the people and excuses the both of you (writes it off as a panic attack or a sudden flare up of illness, and that he must attend to you. His guests are moved by his devotion); and your heart sinks because you know what’ll happen once you’re both alone and you want to run but there are people watching and it’ll only make Sunday more upset. The closer you get to your room the more violent your trembling becomes. You might stumble as a result but Sunday is already two steps ahead of you and he wrings his hand around your arm and drags you along.
You can babble out apologies and beg for forgiveness but it doesn’t matter— he’s already shoving you into the room and locking the door—
It’s excruciatingly painful, and he deals out punishment with unrelenting resolve. He’ll have you bend over the bed while he deals out the blows. If you try to block them with your hands he’ll tie them up— and if you continue to resist he’ll completely restrain you. It’s hard and fast and he makes you count. It’s humiliating and painful— like a white hot iron lashing against your skin. He doesn’t mind the sobbing but when you start screaming he winds his hand into your hair and shoves your face into the the bed to muffle it. On really really bad days (usually after an escape attempt) he’ll whip you until your skin splits under the cane.
Then afterwards he’ll kick your feet apart and screw you— the writhing of your body and your sobs from earlier really got him worked up. And as it’s still punishment he doesn’t really try to make it good for you. It feels like a nail being hammered into you, sharp— but the pain is still duller than the whipping. Nonetheless your body still reacts, and it jerks away from his erratic thrusts but he yanks at your hair and pulls you back onto him. You try to just let it happen but it hurts— and your body seizes up from the painful intrusion.
Sunday will be in your ear throughout all of this— telling you how you deserve it, how he loves you, how you broke his heart when he came home and you were gone, how he’ll make you into something better, how good you feel, how he doesn’t want you to leave— he won’t allow it. He tells you that he’ll forgive you for this slight, that is if you accept what it takes to earn it.
Once everything’s over, you’re completely shattered. Everything’s blurry and your ears are ringing and you can barely making out the fuzzy colors in your vision— or anything in your surroundings for that matter. Sunday pets your head (hair matted and tangled from sweat and his constant pulling), his hands are gentle and loving. It takes you a while to finally come back, but Sunday is patient. He coos at you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head and your damp cheeks, tells you that you did such a wonderful job enduring everything, and that he hopes you’ll be better after this so he doesn’t have to do it again. Tells you that he loves you.
He welcomes you when you finally sob into his lap and blubber our apologies and promises that you’ll never leave again. You’re so tired, it hurts to move, it feels like you’ve been gutted of everything you have. Sunday embraces you, and he is so incredibly tender with you afterwards. The affection and softness is addicting, and you can’t help but allow yourself to fall into it after all the pain.
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OMG ANON!!! you're speaking my language and your writing is so so divine!!
But, one, Sunday definitely got the mom glare, that makes you squirm, and he will give you that Pavlovian dog treatment, training you, breaking you. You're his little side project he take pleasure in cultivating.
After all, he's merely your shepherd, training his naughty sheep.
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campbell-rose · 6 months
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Alastor Redesign
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Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted. 
Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue. 
I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic. 
If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows. 
I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol. 
Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
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No Need To Ask
Chapter Nine - Duty As A Mafia Wife
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
Warnings: Mrs Sainz makes a sort of comment about the readers weight so be warned for that, smut under the *** (skip if you're uncomfortable), kind of forced sex (in the sense Y/N knows she has to do it, instead of actually wanting to - there isn't no consent though), unprotected sex
2K words
Series Masterlist
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The reception was held at Carlos’ impressive house. While the wedding had been happening, the reception was being set up. With long tables full of candles on the golfing green and vases on marble pillars full of colourful flowers.
The usual table had been removed from just outside of the kitchen and live music sat there instead. They were only booked for the first two hours of the reception, with a stereo system ready to take over.
The white car left from the church with Y/N and Carlos in the back. They didn’t kiss at the ceremony, not with how hard Y/N was trying not to cry. She should have run, she thought as soon as the car pulled away from the church. But running wasn’t possible, not when you had at least twenty two of the most powerful men in the world under one roof, not when they all had at least one gun hidden on them.
Throughout the short journey back to the house, Y/N said nothing. Her breathing was erratic. As soon as the car pulled up at the house she was straight out and through the doors, running up to her room. “Y/N!” She heard as Carlos roar as he walked through the doors behind her.
Y/N didn’t dare turn around. She walked straight into her room and straight over to Oscar. He had fixed himself from last night, changed his suit to something more presentable and had used his fingers to fix his hair (because we all know he doesn’t use a comb). “Y/N,” he gasped as she burst into the room. “You look…”
Beautiful. She looked beautiful. But Oscar couldn’t bring himself to say so once he spied the ring on her finger. It was a simple band, with the Sainz family insignia engraved into the metal. She had gained an engagement ring, too. It was a simple ring with a simple stone, but, if Oscar was to guess, he would have guessed in the thousands.
Suddenly, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I really wish you were there,” she whispered. With all of her makeup and the reception still to go, she had to keep herself presentable, she couldn’t yet cry.
“Y/N, querida, we have our wedding reception to attend!” Carlos shouted, his footsteps so heavy they were audible as he walked up the stairs.
Y/N quickly pulled away from Oscar. She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. As she stepped out of her bedroom she let go of his hand, coming face to face with her husband.
But Carlos wasn’t looking at her. He was looking past her, at Oscar. His jaw ticked as he held his hand out for Y/N. “Come, querida,” he said. “We have guest to entertain.”
Y/N placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be walked down the stairs. She followed him down the stairs and out to the back garden.
A couple of guests had arrived already. Not many of them, only Lando and a few of Carlos’ men. Y/N wanted to run to her brother, but she couldn’t, not with how tight Carlos was holding her hand. “Please,” she whispered, looking at the pool. “I-”
“You are my wife now. You are to be at my side, supporting me,” he said.
Behind him, Oscar watched the whole thing. His jaw was clenched as he watched Carlos pull her over to the table on the golfing green, sitting her in one of the middle seats. He could make a scene, distract everyone so that Y/N could run. But he’d get himself kissed in the process. And then who was going to save Y/N?
Several members of different mafia families came to congratulate Y/N. They introduced themselves all of them remarking that they didn’t know Lando had a sister.
And then it was Lando’s turn. “How you holding up?” He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “What happens if I say no?” She asked him, resting her chin on her hand. “Let me guess, nothing. So, I’m holding up great.
Carlos had gone to speak to the likes of Charles and Max and Vettel (as the head of the Vettel family Sebastian could no longer go by his first name. “Congratulations,” said Vettel as he shook Carlos’ hands. “A mafia marriage takes some work, but soon you’ll find yourself in love with her,” he said with a smile.
Shaking his head, Carlos laughed. “I doubt that,” he muttered, which had Charles rolling his eyes. Charles was a romantic. He couldn’t wait to get married, but he always fucked things up, with his girlfriends either wanting to kill him or dead.
The last people to arrive at the wedding were Carlos’ parents. Mrs Sainz made a beeline for Y/N, pushing Lando out of the way. “It is your wedding day,” she began, “but you mustn’t eat a thing.”
“Huh?”
“You cannot be seen to eat a thing today. You cannot get any mess on your dress or be seen bloating.”
Y/N let out a huff. If this day wasn’t bad enough, now she couldn’t eat. As everybody else sat down to eat, some members of some families made toasts. They stood up, holding their champagne as they said kind words to the couple. After every speech Y/N threw the alcohol back. On her empty stomach, she was bound to get very, very drunk.
After the dinner, some people stood up to dance. “I’m going to speak to your friend, Oscar,” said Carlos as he stood up.
Suddenly, Y/N grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”
But the smile Carlos sent her way was somewhat sweet. “Relax, querida, I just want to thank him for making you feel so comfortable in my home,” he said.
Y/N didn’t see Oscar for the rest of the night. After the band left, Lando pulled her up for a dance, since she hadn’t had a single minute of fun since the wedding began. She was very drunk when Lando got her dancing. She wasn’t caring who saw as she danced around to some of her favourite songs (courtesy of Lando).
***
But then the wedding began to wind down. The guests started to leave, heading back to their respective homes and hotel rooms. Being the last ones stood in their garden, Carlos turned towards Y/N.
He walked over, taking Y/N’s hand. She wordlessly followed him, anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach. This was her duty.
This was her duty as a mafia wife.
Every step she took made her body feel like it was on fire. Carlos didn’t turn left at the top of the stairs towards Y/N’s room. He went right, leading her to the room at the very end of the corridor.
The bed was huge with black sheets and several pillows at the head. There was an armchair shoved into the corner of the room a walk-in closet beside the bed. There was only one bedside table, Y/N realised, between the bed and the walk-in closet. Opposite was an ensuite, black walls that matched the bedroom and a black tub against the back wall.
Carlos shrugged of his suit jacket and undid his bowtie. He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it on the armchair. “Leave your jewellery on,” he said and unbuckled his belt.
“Wait.”
But Carlos didn’t wait. He strode over to Y/N and turned her around, unzipping the back of her dress. Carlos pushed it off of her shoulders, letting it fall. Before it could expose too much of her, Y/N grabbed the bodice, holding it against her chest.
This was her duty as a mafia wife.
Y/N let the dress fall. She let go of the bodice, wrapping arms around her breasts to keep at least a bit of a dignity. Carlos didn’t touch her. He commanded for her to step out of the dress and sit on the bed.
It was very unromantic, but Y/N didn’t expect anything less. She stepped out of her dress, taking a moment to pick it up and drape it over the chair. It was so beautiful, it seemed such a shame to leave it in a crumpled mess on the floor.
She climbed onto the bed, sitting against the pillow as Carlos placed his gun on the bedside table and pulled off his trousers. There were no words as he climbed on top of her and pulled her hands away from her chest, exposing herself before him.
Carlos grew hard. He took her hand and pulled her close, wrapping her fingers around him.
Her breathing was heavy as she sat there, unsure of what to do. So, Carlos guided her. He moved her hand up and down his length, helping to get him hard. It wasn't for pleasure, it was for procreation.
This was her duty as a mafia wife.
As soon as he was ready, Carlos lined himself up. He didn't look Y/N in the eye, not until he felt her hand on his shoulder. "I'm a virgin," she said quickly.
Well, that changed things. With an exasperated sigh, Carlos sat up. He looked down at her, but he still wasn't meeting her eye.
Carlos reached out, his hand gentle against her thigh. Y/N's breath hitched as his fingertips climbed higher, ghosting over her folds. His touch was still gentle as he pressed harder.
Oh, that felt good, actually. Y/N watched him as he pressed on her clit, his thumb moving over the nerve.
She let out a moan, throwing her head back. Carlos took his as his sign to go further, his index finger dipping inside of her.
Y/N writhed about on the bed, letting out a series of moans. Whether Carlos was enjoying it or not, she didn't know. She didn't know that this entire ordeal was a chore for him.
This was his duty as a future mafia leader.
"Are you ready?" Carlos asked as he pulled his hand away from her.
Y/N nodded. She tried to meet Carlos' eyes as he moved up her body, lining himself up with her centre. Slowly and somewhat gently, Carlos pushed in.
She was tight, tighter than Carlos had ever had before. He listened as she sucked in a sharp breath, stilling his movements.
There was no communication. But at least he was now looking in her eyes. His gorgeous drown eyes were trained on her face, looking for any sign that he could move.
And then she gave it. Carlos moved his hips slowly, thrusting into her.
It was unromantic and over quickly. They weren't having sex for the pleasure of it or trying to prolong the feeling. They were trying to get it done. Carlos grunted as he snapped his hips towards her, jaw clenched.
He spilled his seed inside of her quickly and pulled away, leaving Y/N laying on his bed with a layer of sweat covering her body. She watched as Carlos walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, throwing it at her.
"Once you're done cleaning yourself up, you can return to your room," Carlos said and pushed the bathroom door closed, locking himself inside.
Y/N cleaned herself up. She grabbed her dress and held it close to her chest as she ran through the house, heading towards her own bedroom.
She could still feel his seed inside of her as she dropped her dress onto her bed and grabbed her robe. She looked around her room, but Oscar still hadn't returned.
Y/N took her time in the shower. She ran the loofa over her body, washing the sweat from her skin. She ran the loofa between her legs, washing off what she could. After a good half an hour under the hot water her skin was pruney, but Y/N didn't care
Once done with her shower, Y/N wrapped her towel around her body and headed back to her bedroom. The bedroom she had to herself. The bedroom she didn't share with the man that was now her husband.
Slowly, she got changed into her pyjamas. She climbed under the sheets and cried herself to sleep.
Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie
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the-kr8tor · 5 months
Note
Hello!!! I have simple request if you don’t mind how about drunk Hobie with y/n…I wanna see how you would write their dynamic cause I love your writing <3
Thank you for requesting, lovely! 💛
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, drinking, cw vomit, FLUFF
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
You wake up groggily to the telephone ringing loudly inside your shared bedroom. With one eye open, you blindly reach for the receiver, hand bumping all over the mess that is your bedside table. Bringing the phone to your ear, face squished on the pillow, sleep still clinging to your lashes.
“Hello?” Your voice cracks.
“Y/N? It's Ned” you wake up in a flash, mind already flashing to Hobie or his friends having some sort of emergency during their weekly get together. Is there a fire? Did someone get alcohol poisoning? Is he okay?
“Come get your man. He's gonna get kicked out with how loud the fucker is right now. The owner’s staring daggers at him”
Sure enough, there's a loud booming laughter in the background and what sounds to be glass shattering. Ned's swirling his words together but sober enough to put together a cohesive sentence. But definitely not drunk enough to handle his friends' shenanigans.
“Oh shit! Please hurry, he's telling everyone that he's Spider-Man, what a weirdo.” there's a rustling sound then the phone falls, banging on the wall briefly. There's fast footsteps and a muffled, “Hobie! Christ, that's your third fucking glass!”
There's roaring laughter, and an unmistakable voice. “Who you callin’? The coppers? You're no fun anymore, Neddy”
The dial tone ends and you're already putting on your trainers, taking your keys, wallet and coat. You don't even bother changing out of your pajamas, they look presentable enough, right?
The train ride was awkward. You in your pajamas, hair disheveled, and mismatched socks. Good thing there weren't a lot of commuters this late or the staring would actually get to you. There was an awkward silence when you stepped inside, but with you staring right back at them with your sleep deprived eyes, they looked away immediately.
You practically ran to the white horse pub, the party was in full swing, people with sloshing pints in hand and men drunkenly trying to walk straight. Hugging your coat closer, you tie them closed, scanning the pub for the familiar figure.
Spotting Hobie halfway up the table with Ned trying to drag him off, his laughs would make you giggle if not for him being so inebriated, chugging an entire pint while his other friends cheer him on, banging on tables and guffawing over the already loud pub. A friend you've recognized before joins him on the table, finishing his own pint. Hobie eggs him on with him tipping his friend's pint closer to the man's lips, while chanting: you can do it, mate!
The wood wobbles and you quickly make your way towards him. Ned sighs in relief, you smile apologetically before he changes course for the other friend on the table, almost tackling him off it.
You hold onto his leather jacket in an attempt to balance him. He usually has great balance but you don't completely trust his coordination.
“Hobie!” You yell through the loud chatter of the pub. The owner watches on in your peripheral, “Sorry, Joe! I'll get him home!”
“You better! Your boy's a menace, he's been inciting everyone on his little drinking game”
“Isn't that good? People are buying more booze?”
“Don't push it, love. That's the only reason why I'm not gonna make him pay for the broken glasses”
You wince, “sorry about those” He grunts, waving off.
Tugging at his jacket, you call his name again. Hobie finally looks down, eyes flicking from your hands to your face. You'd expect him to greet you with a smile or even drop down and hug you, instead, he swats your hands away from him, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.
You blink in surprise, bewildered at his actions. “Hey! Hobie!”
“What?” he folds his knees to level with you, his eyes blinking a little too quickly, head tilted, hands on his knees for extra balance.
“What do you mean ‘what’? I'm here to take you home. You're too drunk” you hold his hand, tugging him down on the table.
“And you're too bloody handsy” he flings your hand away. “I'm–” he blinks slowly, trying to get his bearings. “I'm have a girl back home, yeah? Don't” Hobie pokes your forehead.
You get cross eyed, a minute ago you'd thought he was just a little too drunk, the kind of drunk where you're wobbly on your feet, now you know he definitely can't see straight. You decide to play along, just so you can tease him in the morning.
“Oh” you bring your hands on your chest in a mock surprise. “Didn't know that, so sorry”
“No harm, but she–she would…could throw hands if she saw you grope me like that”
Grope? “I wasn't– you know what, tell me more about her. She sounds nice”
Hobie beams at you, a resemblance of what he would usually look like once he sees you in a crowded room. He sits on the table like you just asked a child what his favourite dinosaur is.
“She– she's sooo good to me, y’know” you nod, biting your lip to stop a giddy laugh from escaping. “I told her that I was Spiderman and y’know what she did?!” He excitedly yells, good thing no one here actually believes his drunk ramblings or else the entire pub would know that they're currently drinking with spiderman himself.
“No, what did she do?” you smile, eyes twinkling under the dim lights of the pub.
“She said she loves me! And and” he gestures excitedly. “Supports me! Isn't that fuckin' amazing?!” Hobie sighs longingly. “I miss her, I wish she was here. She'd probably bonk me on the head with how much I've drunk though.” He trails off, his eyes glassy. “I should go home”
“Yeah, you should” you slowly inch closer to him. “Hey, babe?”
“Yes, lovie?” Hobie does a double take, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “Lovie!” He tackles you in for a hug. His face snuggling closer to your neck. You rub his back, giggling.
Now you're the one struggling to balance. “I miss you too” you kiss his temple. “Let's go home before you let out anymore of your secrets”
You would have struggled more if you brought him to the tube, luckily enough, you found a cab within five minutes of waiting (and wrangling) with Hobie.
After a round of goodbyes from his equally drunk friends, you finally got him inside the taxi. The driver clicks his tongue at another drunk passenger.
“He better not get sick all over my seats” the driver says gruffly.
“He won't, don't worry” you say with a fake smile.
“I think ‘m gonna be sick.” Hobie opens the car window, letting the cool air in.
“Please don't” you whisper to him, patting his back affectionately whilst you smile at the glaring driver so he doesn't kick you out.
After a car ride that seemed endless and one throw up outside the flat, you're both finally home. Getting him up the stairs was more of a struggle, he wobbled on his feet, almost tumbling off the staircase, if not for you clinging to him he would most definitely fall. Once inside the bedroom, he groans, leaning his entire body on you. Arms enclosed around your shoulders, head lolling to the side.
Hobie drops like a sack of potatoes on the mattress, bringing you down with him. You land on top as he traps you in his embrace.
“You're so good to me” he murmurs against the crown of your head.
“Mm-hmm, so I've been told” you cuddle closer, not minding the smell of alcohol.
“Because it's true” Hobie places a sticky kiss on your head then folding his neck just to reach your temple.
“You're gonna regret this in the morning” you help him in attacking your face by leaning over him, your elbows on the side of his head, fingers scratching his scalp. His hands skim over to your waist, holding you securely.
“I'll never” kiss “ever” kiss “regret” kiss “snogging you”
You laugh from the belly with every peck he leaves on your skin. “I know that, I’m talking about you drinking too much”
Hobie pauses, eyes narrowed from tiredness, lips still pursed together. “Ah that, sorry” he apologizes for his future self even though he would most definitely say it in the morning when you hand him some meds and lots of fluids.
“We'll talk about it once you're sober and without a banging headache. Rest, I'll take care of you” kissing his nose, you leave his side to grab fresh clothes for him to change into.
Before you completely leave, Hobie takes your hand, squeezing it.
“Love you, thank you” You let him bring your knuckles up to his lips, he sighs.
“Love you too, I think you're about to have the worst morning tomorrow” you chuckle, leaning closer to his touch like a planet orbiting its sun.
“With you, it won't be”
“You get cheesy when you're drunk” kissing the tip of his nose, you leave again, turning away, earning a grunt of disapproval from Hobie.
“I hate to see you go but I love watching you leave!” he says with gusto.
You should've brought a video camera with you when you were in the pub.
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etheralsweetheart · 6 months
Text
MK Characters with a breeding kink
Might make a part two (you can write in the comments who else could have this kink) MDNI (Breeding, Pregnancy kink (?), Degradation, Somnophilia)
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Liu Kang ❤️🔥
Look at him. This man would definitely want to have kids, even if he's a god with little time on his hand. He feels dirty whenever he looks at you and the only thing on his mind, is fucking his cum into you. But he can't help it whenever he sees his lover. He enjoys putting his forehead on yours as he's in missionary. Something about this gesture feels so soft and intimate. Sex is impossible for him if there isn't a loving gesture. He hopes to get you pregnant, he just wants to see you carrying his child. "Dear, you're doing so good for me…” He would whisper into your ear while slowly and softly fucking into you. “Such a beauty…”
Bi-Han 💙❄️
Bi-Han is mean. He almost sees you as his personal fleshlight. Just a hole for him to fuck. He doesn't care how worried you are about getting pregnant, he's coming inside. You can't even talk with how hard he's fucking into your already abused hole, how puffy it has gotten from the overstimulation. But even with how sensitive your poor cunt is, it can't stop pulling him in. And whenever you whine and tell him to stop, he just comes with a "Is that so? Because I can feel your pussy milking my cock." He's expecting you to give him a heir. Bi-Han trust you enough to do the job and give him a son. Everytime you guys fuck, he makes sure to cum multiple times inside your cunt. He has to make sure you're completely stuffed with his potent semen.
Kuai Liang 💛🦂
Man has insane baby fever. Whenever he's in a store, he'd stare like five minutes straight at the baby section. He just finds the clothes adorable and hopes to get you pregnant, so he can buy these clothes for his baby. Oftentimes he would ask to start a family and get sad, whenever you felt you weren't ready (idk how, I'd immediately jump on his bones). But whenever you guys have sex, he can't help but think about breeding you. He has this need to fuck his cum deep inside you. He also enjoys after cumming inside you and then watching all his cum oozing out of your poor abused cunt. “You did so good… good night, honey” he says softly while wrapping his strong arms around your body. Please let him breed you, he'd be a great dad trust me
Fujin 🩵🌪️
RAAAA FUJIN. That one interaction between him and Sonya
Fujin: You must like having a daughter
Sonya: Still getting used to the whole idea
Fujin: It is a joy I will never know
But after meeting you, he wants to try and make this reality. You both fell in love and Fujin brought it up one time. When you agree that you are ready to start a family, he gets ecstatic, as well as a feeling in his lower stomach. He was laying on the bed, his long white hair free from the braid. You were riding him, hands gripping his shoulder. Obviously he would never hurt you, but he can't help accidentally leaving little crescent shaped marks on your hips. "My Love... You are so so.. beautiful" He pants out while he fills you up with his cum for the third time. "My Dear... So good just for me..." Fujin groans out. 
Syzoth 💚🦎
The thing with Syzoth is that he isn’t human and that he experiences a breeding season. You’d notice how much bigger he’d make himself whenever there are other men near you. He gets more clingy, you can forget privacy, with him following you everywhere. You’d ask what’s wrong and he’d denied it, as if whatever it was, was shameful to admit. You dropped it. But you can’t ignore these weird changes getting stronger each day. Until one night you woke up when you felt something rubbing against your ass. When you turned to look, you gasped a bit. There was Syzoth, dry humping you, eyes closed and he was biting his lips to keep quiet. “Syzoth..?” You mumble, not even fully conscious. Suddenly his eyes snap open and he looks at you. His eyes looked different, it held a lot more emotion in them. Suddenly he pushes your head back into the pillow. A small yelp escapes your mouth, but Syzoth was already on you. He’s tearing down your pants and without warning pushes his whole length inside you. It stretched you and you can only bury your face in the pillow, as he fucks with no remorse. “Mate… need to breed mate…” he whispers. Then he leaned down, his bare chest touching your back, as he kissed your ear. “I’m… so.. sorry.. Fuck!” He hisses out the last part. You can only moan as he uses your body for the rest of the night.
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