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#i hate all the senseless killings
paellegere · 1 month
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it is utterly miserable for a mediocre show to have a really good plot or make god tier parallels or connections because you're like well this show isn't good and the writing is flimsy and there are so many holes and bland storylines, but they paralleled the season finale to an earlier season finale and then made the weight of that decision foundational to the next season so now my every waking thought is consumed by it
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royalberryriku · 6 months
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Just hearing now about Israel and, upon such, have some thoughts but I also recognise I'm not the most educated in the history of the matter nor know enough to have a strong opinion.
I will say, however, that it seems that the governments and those in power are to blame on both sides while I'm always seeing innocent people, civilians, suffer for power hungry governments.
Too many innocent Palestinian civilians have died, too many innocent Israeli civilians have died. And it's always the governments doing the killing, the driving people from their homes, the bombing, the kidnappings; the atrocities.
War is poison, nationalism only serves those in power.
So much death in the name of patriotism and nationalism, and for what? Because a one rich man wants more land over another rich man's land, both of which are inhabited by neither just regular folk who die either way because the rich men in question don't care who lives there, just who owns it? Or perhaps they do, perhaps that's the whole problem; because they're so caught up over who's Palestinian or Israeli that they don't realise both are fucking dying because they want to kill so badly.
Just... who's this war even for? Two greedy and bloodthirsty people who aren't the ones dying and having their homes destroyed? Two leaders who are harming their own citizens in the name of nationalism? It's true, I don't understand the cultural significance of these places, who's ancestors are "rightfully" from where and whose ancestors have said what. I don't know and it's not my place to say. But I do know that nationalism, ownership of land and pride isn't worth the price that's being paid in blood. It's the civilians being killed I can't stand, and there's lists and lists of Palestinians who are dying and who've been killed and Israelis are dying and have been killed. And none of them, of either side, should have had to die.
It's just nothing but sad and senseless, and the rest of the world can only watch helpless as those in power squabble with not the slightest guilt of how their own citizens die from their greed and desire for each other's land. And for what? Scorched dirt filled with each other's blood? A land with no one left to occupy it because you're fighting each other by butchering anyone who lives on that land?
I don't know how to solve this conflict, but I can say with confidence that the citizens aren't to be killed for the sake of those in power who can't see past their own ambitions. I do think that both leaders are criminally corrupt to allow such bloodshed and brutality, to let citizens pay the price of their respective leader's desire for land. Land is land. When both countries are nothing but giant bloodstains, land won't matter because there won't be anyone to inhabit them. It's ridiculously idiot of these leaders to place their pride ahead of their people.
Again, perhaps I'm wrong, I don't know what others do and I'm just some young adult who lives far from this reality. I don't have the information to judge off of and all I have is the attempts to understand with what I have. But I do have the common sense to say that this bloodshed is wrong and senseless, and that the leaders must surely be corrupt to not have the slightest care for the people being killed, even in their own nation, while strangers look own and have more compassion for their own people.
It all makes me sad, angry and endlessly grieve for those who suffer for those in power who don't care for the suffering of those outside their pristine windows.
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selamat-linting · 10 months
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y/n reader fantasies are a little embarrassing. i admit it. but, my fantasy of becoming tony montana's personal enemy that he always beats up by hand but never kill despite us being opposites in ideology and career is different i swear!!!
#scarface liveblogging#if youre curious here is x reader fanfic lore with him#i met him when he's a dishwasher. we talk and be super close friends. but then turns out im a union man trying to get him to join#so he beats me almost to death#but he still calls me asking me to join his drug business when he's succesful#saying i could be like manny and i could get all the power without being a commie#but yknow. im a union man whose friends are ruined because of cocaine. so i say no and beat him up this time#he's angry but couldnt bring himself to kill me#so he tries to stay away. but we keep crossing paths because he's a business and a drug lord#while im in a union and is trying to build something to reduce the cocaine epidemic#so we have semi regular hate dates where we meet in a random spot and beat each other senseless both physically and verbally#the winner gets to rob the pockets and wallets of the loser#we had sex once or twice#whenever he gets too stressed and paranoid he calls me to a neutral place. i wouldnt go to the fancy places he likes#im the only clear cut enemy he has. so he kept asking me why im the way i am. and i do the same. trying to understand ourselves by#examining our opposites. of course this conversation is filled with hostility and insults#we'll get each other so worked up one of us would punch each other. the other would start to leave#but one of use would pull back#and the fighting would turn into a full on make out session#we would have super violent dubiously safe sex#he wll give me an std
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paperultra · 6 months
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hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
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“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
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cyanide-crepe · 1 year
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"I could fix him" but as in taking the custody of him and putting his legal guardians in prison.
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jaylaxies · 7 months
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ARIAARIAARIAAAAA HAVE YOU SEEN THISS
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSL7vJc3J/
GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS 💭 - 🎉
OMG I HAVE and here:
tw: stalking, drugs, blackmailing, gambling, guns, smut
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stalker!hee who pretends to be the nerd in your class, always watching you from a distance simply because he can’t get enough of you, you’re too pretty for anyone else to have and that’s how he learns the way to your heart, getting information about the smallest things such as your favourite drink so when he finally talks to you, he can manipulate you into thinking that he’s the perfect guy for you, knowing everything there is about you, him being wild in bed and having a big cock is only a bonus.
drug dealer!jay who’s always present at all your frat parties with whatever a person would need to feel out of this world, yet that’s not what you crave, you want love, you don’t wish to feel alone in this world and so, you try drugs in an empty balcony, but you request jay to accompany you for the same. he’s habitual to it, and he finds you cute with your mumbling, but once you both get high out of your mind, heat kicks in and soon, you’re on top of jay, kissing the life out of him while riding his cock, which feels a thousand times better while smoking.
blackmailer!jake who’s also your ex and possessive beyond what you’d consider normal. the breakup was messy, he was controlling your life and you were against it, but he had ruined everything for you. nothing felt good after him, no one fucked you as good as him till the day you get a text from him, hoping that it’ll be an apology but he ends up blackmailing you with the crime you had committed and buried deep in your memory. what he wants in return? you. it’s an easy bargain with you missing his touch and him doing anything and everything to have his cock in you again.
street racer!sunghoon who’s all the money in this world and yet nothing gives him the thrill like racing does, and that’s why he finds himself back there each week, until one day he spots you. he hardly pays attention to anyone, and he almost missed you since your clothes fit right in, but he doesn’t like how you’re clinging on to his rival heeseung. that would have been enough for him to stop thinking about you but that wasn’t the case when he made most out of the line bet with him—that he’ll have a night with you if he wins, which he did. but you’re fierce, you hate how they treated you as a bet, and without your knowledge at that. but that doesn’t stop you from fighting back, and fighting with sunghoon doesn’t end well, one minute you’re fighting, the other you’re under him, begging for more as he fucks you senseless on his silk sheets.
gambler!sunoo who cannot stop getting back to the gambling hub each night. the reason? you. he doesn’t like how you wear that smirk of yours, clad in the tightest clothes while playing strip poker, somehow always winning and never having to go beyond removing your top. sunoo never plays with your group, always observing from a distance until he finally caves in and plays with you, eyes on you, not caring about the ones around. he plays effortlessly, being the best player you had ever came across, a gasp left your mouth when you were left in nothing but your panties but he stops you from removing them, eyes dark, “leave them on, it’s only for me to see,” he’d whisper, and yes, you can’t deny him and find yourself following him back to a hotel.
mafia!jungwon who never had any other motive in life but to kill his rival as a revenge for his family, but right on the day of his final plan, things went south and you (who happened to be at the same restaurant) got hurt. of course jungwon completed his mission but leaving a girl injured would be way out of line even for him, and you had also seen their faces behind the masks while holding guns, which is why they couldn’t let you run away, which is why you found yourself in their secret building, trying your best to get away, but jungwon wasn’t having any of it. he snapped, pinning you against the wall and warning you, but you took this as an opportunity to kiss him, turning it into something deeper as you let him fuck his pent up frustrations into you. the sex was good but you wanted out, running away when he was sleeping, not knowing that he’ll come to get you again.
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finntheehumaneater · 3 months
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I owe you a black eye and two kisses
(Part two)
Now on Ao3
playlist | pinboard TW: drugs, swearing
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Steve knew this was a bad idea. He knew it, and yet there he was, doing it anyway. His hands were shaking, and he was pretty sure he was still bleeding somewhere, but he sat patiently at the picnic table behind Hawkins High, waiting for the dealer to show up.
And honestly? Drugs wouldn't fix his situation. If anything, they would probably make it worse. But he just wanted to get back to that floaty-feeling he had felt with Robin a few days ago—to get rid of the feeling that he wasn't safe, because the people who hurt him were gone, and he was fine.
He should be fine, but he wasn't.
And he had a headache, just to top it all off.
He pressed his face into his hands, hating the way That his still-raw skin stung at the contact, but he didn't have the energy to lift his head up. He had felt on the verge of passing out for hours, and he was probably some kind of fucked up, again. But how would he know?
After starcourt, he had pushed the paramedics away—insisting that they check on everyone else, first, leaving him to sit in the back of an ambulance alone— his bruised-up Knees dangling over the edge of the vehicle, a blanket wrapped around his shoulder.
He hadn't needed it. He should have given it to someone else.
He could have gotten himself killed by refusing medical help like that. But that's who he's supposed to be, right? The self-sacrificing hero who puts others before himself—always making sure that everyone else is okay and comfortable before he limps off to go and tend to his own wounds in solitude.
And that's what he was doing. Tending to his own wounds. By buying drugs, of course, like any reasonable person would do. Besides, getting high was always more fun for him after serious head-trauma. He knew the risks, and he liked them.
He and Robin would have to find a new job, too.
Family Video was hiring soon, though, he had seen an ad for it in the newspaper this morning. He'd have to talk to Robin about that. But, then again, he’d probably end up vetoing the option, since he really didn't want to work for Keith.
A voice startled him from his thoughts —a teasing "Well, well, if it ish't Steve Harrington"—and he panicked, his body flinching into itself on its own, back curled like that would protect him from any kind of harm. He could still be beaten senseless like that, though, he knew from experience.
Steve forced himself to straighten, taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the way that the pounding in his head only got worse after the sudden movement.
He didn't turn as Eddie Munson made his way to The other side of the picnic table, sitting down and placing his small, metal lunchbox between them.
“Munson,” Steve muttered, Kkeeping his head ducked, his eyes glued to a spot of lichen growing out of the wood of the table, desperately hoping that the hair falling over his forehead would help hide his battered-up face better. 
“Harrington,” Eddie said back, but the cockines and teasing in his voice faltered slightly. "Shit, man, what happened to you?"
Steve shook his head, trying to turn away, but Eddie must have leaned over the table, because there was a thumb pressed to his chin, bringing his face up—the tip of it just brushing his bottom lip for a moment. It didn't move away when he winced and tugged back slightly, his skin burning at the contact. “Steve. What happened?"
Steve moved his eyes up to meet Eddie’s, and he had never felt more exposed in a t-shirt and jeans than he did now, what with the way Eddie was looking at him. It was Robin's Madonna t-shirt, and even though she only wore baggy things, really, it was still a bit tight on him, pushing up against his stomach a bit. But he had borrowed it because it was soft and cotton, the kind of fabric that didn't make him feel like he'd need to peel off his skin to be comfortable again after wearing it.
"Starcourt, " Steve managed, kind of loving the way that Eddie's thumb pressed against his skin a bit harder, his index finger hooked under Steve's chin to keep him in place. "M'okay."
Eddie narrowed his eyes, looking Steve over again, and Steve could feel his face flush as Eddie ran a finger down Steve’s bruised cheek and sighed. “Huh. Alright, then. Glad you’re okay.”
Steve nodded and watched as Eddie opened the box, looking at Steve expectantly, because of course he was waiting for Steve to tell him what he wanted, but Steve was feeling unsure, now. Did he really need to get high? That didn’t seem like it would help with his headache. He had really only done this once, and he felt horrible afterwards.
“I—I can’t do this,” He choked out, hating the way that his eyes stung, his hands gripping at his arms as he looked away, because he was tired. He was tired, that was it. Definitely. His fingers dug into his skin a bit harder, and he managed to get out an, “I’m sorry,” when he heard Eddie sigh and the box close.
“It’s okay,” Eddie whispered, his voice softer and less demanding than before. “Do you need anything? A ride home? You look kind of pale, sweetheart.”
“I don’t…I’m fine. You probably—you don’t need to do that,” Steve sniffed, wiping his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Eddie, but he really couldn’t help it.
“At least let me walk you to your car?”
“I didn’t bring it. I—I walked here. Needed some fresh air, I guess…”
He looked back at Eddie, and Eddie looked him over once more, getting up and looking at Steve expectantly again. “Well, if you think I’m going to let you walk for half-an-hour like this, then you’re wrong. Let’s go, I’ll drive you home.”
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EDIT: since this is getting so much attention, I would also just like to say that if you guys like my writing, I have more of it here ❤️
(I might make a part two of this and post it if people are interested, but I’m putting this here so that you guys can bug me about finishing this if you’d like :D)
I did not read this over. So sorry for any mistakes.
Title from this song
I hope you enjoyed my 11PM shitty writing, and reblogs and comments are appreciated!! ⭐️
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bloompompom · 2 months
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Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT
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for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...
✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only
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Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 
If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 
“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 
The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 
The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 
The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 
You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.
He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”
If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 
Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 
The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 
You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 
It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?
Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.
In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.
“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”
“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.
Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 
“That’s you, not me.” 
“Only because of you.”
Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.
“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.
Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”
“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.
She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 
Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 
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After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 
But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 
He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 
So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 
“Hey.”
Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”
He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 
You bristled. “What do you want?”
He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”
“No, you can’t.”
Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”
You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.
“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 
“Who said anything about olives?”
It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.
You sidestepped him to leave. 
Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 
“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”
Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 
“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”
That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 
“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”
You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”
On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.
What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 
Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.
Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 
“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 
“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”
The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.
“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”
As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 
“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.
You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.
You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 
The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 
You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 
After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 
Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.
What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 
Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.
Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.
Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 
Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 
Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 
You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.
You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 
Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?
Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 
It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?
“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”
You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”
You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.
“Something like that.”
If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 
Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 
“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”
Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 
You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”
You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 
“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”
He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 
You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 
“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.
Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”
He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”
You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.
“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”
“Still do,” you muttered. 
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 
No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 
A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”
Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.
You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 
The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 
At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 
“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.
When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 
Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 
Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.
You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 
Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 
When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 
He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.
Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 
He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.
His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 
Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 
Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.
You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 
His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 
“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”
Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.
“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.
“You asked.”
You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 
You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 
You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.
The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 
You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 
Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.
A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 
“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 
Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 
He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 
Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.
Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.
Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.
With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 
You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.
“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.
Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.
You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 
Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 
You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 
More. You needed more.
You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”
A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 
“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”
You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.
You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”
You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.
He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.
“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 
Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.
You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.
But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.
“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.
Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 
He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 
He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.
You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 
You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 
Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.
Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.
You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 
You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 
“I can’t hear you.”
He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 
You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 
“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 
You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.
Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.
Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.
“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”
The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 
“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”
The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 
Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”
Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.
“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”
“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 
Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.
His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 
If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.
You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.
Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”
“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.
You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”
There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.
“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 
There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”
“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”
You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”
He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”
You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.
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as always, thank you for reading ♡
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lily-radiance · 2 months
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Hazbin Hotel idea
- Fallen-Angel reader(Fem) x Alastor
The reader is doubting Heaven's actions and decides to take a trip to Hell to see for herself.
- Disagrees with the idea of senseless carnage but understands life is not so simple and split in two.
- Charlie, of course, takes her in, although she does not know the reader is an angel. The reader at first doubts the redemption idea but begins to see the vision.
- Reader is not a fan of Lucifer for many reasons, but mainly because he "betrayed" Heaven, and his relationship with Lilith/Charlie is strained.
- Imagine Hell's greatest Dad, but instead of y'know the whole dad part, Lucifer and Alastor are trying to make you pick a side.
- Alastor, chaotic as usual, tries to get the reader to accept being fallen and doesn't want her to go back. She tells him about her 'predicament' before anyone else, and you better believe he wants to fight the angels for you. He tells Charlie and the others about everything because he knows you won't do it yourself. You obviously get mad. Like big mad.
- In your spiral, he sees your wings at their total capacity, and your shaken demeanor has them changing from white to black at a high rate.
- Vox and Valentino get the terrible idea to hold you for ransom against Alastor and Angel Dust, and they do not go unpunished. Vox makes several derogatory comments about your "holier than thou image," Alastor won't let him get away with it. When it comes to you, he has no problem with your lineage, and honestly, he finds it charming that an angel of all creatures would fall for him.
One of your wings gets injured, and unsurprisingly, it happens to be one of the only angelic wings left. (Say the top and bottom wings on each side are black while the middle two are white?) You used to dye your wings to hide your angelic nature, but with an injury present, it is the least of your concerns. Alastor refuses to let you fly while in recovery, and he has to deal with your pouting. When you do heal, he's still weary, always accompanying you in case you need a helping hand.
"Al, I can fly on my own! Look, my wing is healed!"
"No."
"C'mon, just one lap around the hotel!"
"No."
- Husk thinks you're pretty chill company and likes to vent when you have nothing to do. Sure, he can't say much about Alastor without fearing for his soul, but when he can, the conversations are never dull. If you make him laugh, you'll never let him forget it.
- Angel and Nifty constantly tease you about your infatuation with a particular radio demon. Don't expect any worthwhile advice, even if it means no harm. Charlie really wants to see you and Al together, but she might need to be reminded about boundaries.
- Angel Dust once tried to hit on you to see what would happen and nearly got thrown into next week.
- When he says "Good Girl" to Charlie, you can't help but blush and be a little jealous. He isn't afraid to use the phrase to fluster you on purpose, although you would prefer he not.
- If you wear makeup/do your nails, he will be fascinated. He doesn't say anything because once, he spooked you and made you jump, ruining it. The next hour was spent with him memorizing every detail of your designs in case of another mistake. If he scares you again, it's his job to redo everything. Except for mascara. Never mascara.
- Chess and poker games when the staff has downtime. He will use his shadows to help you cheat, but only if he's not playing with you. Husk knows but says nothing.
- If you're listening to music with earbuds, he will occasionally slow the signal so he can bother you. At first, you were annoyed, but realized it was his odd way of communication. Plus, he still hates technology. (You will purposely play "Video Killed The Radio Star" to get him back.)
"Would you kindly stop playing that infernal song, my dear?"
"Not until you stop interrupting my music."
- The Egg Bois love you, that's no surprise. They always ask about you when being watched by Alastor. The radio demon has come to accept the many questions by now, but the first time, he wanted to spit out his coffee. You think fondly of the memory, occasionally bringing it up to lighten the mood.
"Are you and Mom fighting?"
- When you get into disagreements, expect a few dozen bouquets of white roses in your room. He's terrible at expressing emotions other than murderous intent, and Charlie does what she can to help. You're both stubborn, but it gets too exhausting to keep up the act, and eventually, someone has to cave. (Charlie isn't afraid to wear her horns when confronting him, and if he tries to avoid apologizing, Lucifer will make a daily phone call to annoy him.)
"Hey asshole, talk to your girlfriend, it's upsetting my daughter. Also, you suck."
- Regarding the Extermination day, you try your best to fight the Angelic invasion but struggle. Alastor is stuck between keeping you and the Hotel safe. When Adam nearly beats him, you don't know he's alive, but his reappearance at the new and improved hotel is a welcome sight. He's a little rattled that he almost died, but seeing you safe is enough to keep him going. He might be a tad crazier, but you love him to pieces anyway as you run up and hug him. Typically, he despises physical contact, but coming from you, he doesn't mind, even going so far as to hug you back.
"I assure you that I'm alright, mon cher."
"Are you sure, Al, because that was a difficult fight. Wait—your voice!"
The radio demon takes a moment to realize that without his staff, his voice is clearer than before.
"Oh, you must mean the radio feedback is gone. Yes, I suppose you've never heard my regular voice. I had forgotten what it sounded like. How is it?
"It sounds lovely. I couldn't imagine a better fit."
"I should return the compliment; that is what a proper gentleman does. Your wings look lovely as ever, (Y/N)."
You look over your shoulder to see the feathers no longer entirely black, but back to their ivory shade. A few straggled feathers remain, but you don't mind, overjoyed.
In the middle of your undeniably cute interaction, the rest of the staff is watching. It isn't until Husk interrupts with "get a room" that you two get the hint.
Bonus:
Ruffle this tall disaster's hair. He might complain, but he loves it.
Are you feeling extra crazy? Boop him. Just boop the nose. He will do the same to you.
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beetlejuicyy · 14 days
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╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯
Yearning | Shinazugawa Sanemi x reader
Summary: you get very horny after your first mission with Sanemi
Warnings: !nsfw! smut with some plot
Word count: 8,216
Read it on AO3
Notes: I needed to get this out of my system after watching the movie
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The most annoying thing about you was that you were friends with Tomioka Giyuu, Sanemi thought as he stole glimpses at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't stand that guy. The way he looked upon others was always from a superior point of view. The way he talked, rarely and unbothered, was always a favor for anyone who could hear him. You were the same, somewhat worse. On top of all of Tomioka Giyuu's flaws, when you would open your mouth to talk daggers seemed to stab him. You were brutally honest when provoked by him and almost too sure of your own strength. The big difference, however, was that Shinazugawa Sanemi wanted to kill Tomioka for his attitude, while he wanted to fuck you out of it.
He never really knew how to talk to you. Granted, he would never act based on his feelings or let them show in any way. He admired you for your strength as well as your beauty. While he did respect you as one of his fellow Hashira, his eyes would always slip down your body, too weak to resist the way your uniform fit on your curves, the soft skin of your exposed neck or your long hair that always smelled like summer flowers. He would soon fight with himself to stop staring at you, afraid that someone might notice. He would always find moments when he was sure no one was looking, not even you, to see from the distance how bad your injuries were after a mission and he would try to find out if you were fine from the people at the infirmary. But he would never tell you. You rarely ran into each other because of countless missions back to back, both of you being Hashira. You worked on your own most of the time, backed up by lower ranked demon slayers or alongside Tomioka on tougher missions, simply because you got along very well. You and Shinazugawa met occasionally in training, although rather seldom, and during the official meetings at the Ubuyashiki manor. He felt the need to get closer to you, but he didn't have the means to do so. So he resorted to what he knew best, attacking Tomioka indirectly, knowing that you won't miss the chance to step in and try to outsmart him with another witty remark. Most of the words exchanged between the two of you were on a passive-aggressive tone and he was certain that his feelings, buried deep inside his heart, were concealed by the well-known rivalry.
Although he noticed this method was effective in getting your attention, Shinazugawa didn't know exactly to what extent you enjoyed this type of bickering. You too found him annoying. Sometimes he would talk more than needed and he had too good of an opinion about himself. He was cold and senseless sometimes, too focused on the details to be able to see the bigger picture. He wasn’t exactly the nicest person you could stumble upon, but he wasn’t a bad person either. Shinazugawa was hard to approach, intimidating and challenging but most of all you loved getting him angry. Tomioka didn't need anyone stepping up for him, and you didn't do it for your friend's sake anyway. You simply enjoyed to hear Shinazugawa's raspy voice grow in volume and see the anger in his eyes whenever he would feel intimidated, belittled or dismissed. He was hot, you thought one day, appalled, as he ran after Giyuu almost attacking him physically, if it hadn't been for the other Hashira. But you never let it show. You were sure he hated you as much as he hated your friend. You had to be a veritable masochist to have a crush on a guy like him.
Now, despite your reputation as arch enemies, you had been sent on a mission together. It was almost strange to see how well the two of you got along, especially on the battlefield, when you weren't pressured to hide the obvious from other people. You soon noticed that, contrary to his unfriendly nature, Shinazugawa paid a lot of attention to you, conveyed in small gestures.
"Look, the owner said his wife is a healer." He said in the softest voice you ever heard him talk, offering you a small bottle filled with a herbal mixture. You had travelled for a couple of days by that time and stopped at an inn on your way to grab something to eat. When you looked at him questioningly, he looked the other way. "You have been in pain since this morning." And indeed you were feeling some discomfort, altough you never said a word about it, because, before being a demon slayer, you were a woman with a natural body cycle. Maybe he really was a gentleman, although you would have never guessed it, you thought on multiple occasions. Then again, you would remember how everyone saw him and you shook the thought off your mind.
The demon you were after was hard to track. It took a couple of weeks to find its whereabouts, plenty of time for you and Shinazugawa to get comfortable around each other. He was actually sweet, you found yourself thinking as he did his best to maintain a conversation. You liked the sound of his laugh, although it was closer to a low giggle, whenever you tried to crack a joke. You’ve never heard it before but it made your heart flutter a little. Even the silence started to feel comfortable. After a couple of days of trying to find different topics to talk about, you learned a lot about him, although it was only trivial aspects of his life. By now, simply exchanging looks was enough to understand each other.
The fight too place near a small village hidden in the mountains. It was a powerful demon, even though both of you were two of the strongest demon slayers. Shinazugawa’s injuries were worse than yours and he almost lost consciousness by the end of the battle, but you took care of him until the morning, when the people from the village came. They were beyond grateful to you so, in exchange for your services, the head of the village offered to have you stay at the onsen until you regained enough strength for travelling back home.
***
Usually, after a fight, you would sleep like a baby. It was the deepest and most restful sleep that allowed your body to heal properly. No dreams to keep your mind busy, no need to wake up thirsty or any other reason could compromise the sweet moment of relaxation after driving your body to its maximum strength. But this time was different. Maybe because you had spent so much time with Shinazugawa, or maybe those few hours until sunrise while you tended to his injuries were to be blamed. But you had a wet dream. You woke up, confused and well aware of the fact that you were wet. You could still remember all the details, all the positions you imagined yourself in, the way his voice sounded in your ears while grunting and moaning your name, his white hair wet sticking to the back of his neck and his forehead because of sweat, sounds of skin slapping against skin, his palm pressed open just below your navel as he thrusted into you- No. You shook your head, trying to get it out of your mind. You had a crush on him, yes. You found him attractive, yes. You occasionally had dirty thoughts about him. But this was getting out of hand. The worst, still, was that the dream didn’t even help with anything, it only made you aware of how attracted you were to him, how horny he made you feel. It was because you spent so much time together, for sure. Also, the adrenaline of the battle could have this type of side effects in the body often. You could lie to yourself as much as you wanted, but you had never experienced it with anyone else before, you knew that. Now that you were thinking about it, it was around two weeks or so since he gave you that painkiller for your period.
You were ovulating.
The realization left you feeling even more helpless. In any other case, you could hope to fight it, hide it, ignore it. But now, aware of your hormones going crazy inside your body for a few days, you could do nothing about it. It made you feel helpless. The thought of fucking Shinazugawa couldn’t leave your mind. Come to think about it, he was very kind to you these past few weeks. He couldn’t… No. Or maybe there was a small chance he did? Small gestures, kind words, playful and easy going behaviour, all these things were the total opposite of what you expected of him. Could he like you?
***
Despite the blood, sweat and dirt covering your body after fighting a demon, you still smelled like the flowers in summer. Yes, now that his nose was barely touching your shoulder he could fell that it wasn’t only in your hair, the soft and sweet smell was everywhere on your body. Sanemi desperately wanted to open his eyes to see you, but he was too exhausted. The warmth of your body covered him like a thin blanket and he found it in himself to force his hand to grab you by the sleeve. But there was no sleeve because he felt the warm skin of your arm and almost heard the soft coo of your voice when you told him to stay still. Using the last drop of strength that he had, his eyes were obliged to open, even faintly between lashes, to witness your body leaning over his. Above your waist, your body was covered only in your undergarments, hence your bare arm that he was still clinging to. If he hadn’t been covered in blood you could probably see his skin turn to a shade of red, as the silky skin of your chest was only inches away from his face.
Shinazugawa turned around on the futon for the hundredth time. He had been awake for a while now. When he woke up, his body sore and his mind cloudy, the first thing he noticed was that the material around his arm resembled his own uniform. He quickly remembered getting stabbed there, it probably was the deepest wound on his body. So that’s why you were undressed, Shinazugawa thought. Indeed, he hadn’t been hallucinating. You used your own shirt to improvise a tight bandage on his arm in order to reduce blood loss.
Not long after he woke, a girl working at the onsen brought him water and a tray with food. He didn’t have an appetite but munched on it anyway, knowing it will help him build back his strength.
“How is she?” He asked the girl while she was pushing the door closed as she exited theb room.
“Your colleague?” He nodded. He didn’t like the word colleague, it was too formal and too cold for what he wanted you to be. At the same time, he didn’t know how to refer to you. “She’s still asleep, I believe. Thanks to her first aid skills your body is quicker to recover than expected.” Part of him was relieved now that someone confirmed your safety. The last thing he remembered was defeating the demon together, but collapsing to the ground shortly after, losing control over his worn out body. Glimpses of you flashed in Shinazugawa’s memory chaotically. However, your clothes as his bandage was proof enough that they were not just a product of his imagination.
“I need to change these bandages. Bring me some?” The girl bowed and left quickly. She probably had a lot of work to attend to or rather she was scared of him to some extent.
When the girl came back she was not alone but accompanied by the owner of the onsen, whose face Shinazugawa didn’t remember since he was already unconscious when the villagers arrived, and another man who seemed to be a doctor.
“I can handle it myself.” He quickly dismissed them when, after offering his gratitude once again for killing the demon, the owner suggested that the young girl would help him wash up while the doctor checked up on his body. No additional pleas were allowed. The girl left a basin with fresh water and a basket of clean bandages and ointment by the futon and they left the room.
More than anything, Shianzugawa wanted silence. But he couldn’t have it. Now that the mission was fulfilled, there was nothing else to keep his mind busy and distract him from you. Moreover, you would be leaving soon. He loved having you all to himself. And you seemed to like it too, he would think sometimes. You were not as irritating as before and, to his surprise, all the things he found difficult about you turned into qualities that he appreciated. It was only Tomioka’s fault, he mumbled to himself. What he most afraid of was that, once you would be back home, you would go back to spending time with that bastard. All this time you shared would be forgotten and everything would go back to normal.
“Shinazugawa? You’re awake?” Shinazugawa’s bared back was turned to the door as you opened it carefully. He was sitting on the floor, checking some minor wounds. He turned around to look at you, his breath stuck in his throat as he noticed you were wearing only a thin robe loosely tied around the waist. It exposed your chest to a degree he’s never witnessed, granted that your uniform was always buttoned up and covering your breasts entirely.
“Y-yeah.” He quickly found his voice and shifted on the futon, turning to face you. He was only wearing a pair of clean pants. The upper side of his body was covered in bruises or bandages and he was barefoot. “Good job on the mission.” He blurted out, without even thinking about it. He felt pressured to talk, thinking that conversation would distract you from noticing the effect your attire had on him. But you started walking towards him and, with every step, he felt his heart beat faster and faster. His expression was stern and seemingly uninterested, but his eyes alone travelled from your bared calves along the line of your legs until they were completely hidden by the robe, high enough that he expected to see the colour of your panties with every step you took. You didn’t have anything underneath that robe, it was obvious from the way the lose knot around your waist could come undone any minute, from the generous amount of chest that was exposed, from the way one of your sleeves was hanging lower than the other, almost revealing your bare shoulder. Shinazugawa was thirsty. He felt his lips part without control in an awed expression as you crouched down next to him and placed your palm on his forehead. He was thirsty, but water could never quench the kind of thirst he had.
“I was afraid you would catch an infection with all those open wounds. You seem fine.” It was embarrassing how difficult he found it to swallow his own saliva.
“I’m perfectly fine.” He pushed your hand away gently. If you touched him for one more second, he was afraid his heart would burst. He couldn’t look away from you though. There was something about you he had never seen before. And it wasn’t only the way your nipples poked against the thin material of the robe you were wearing, although it was a very compelling sight.
“We're at an onsen. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.” You said standing up. He would take advantage of you, Shinazugawa though but tried to control himself, given that the bulge growing bigger in his pants couldn’t be controlled. “I just can’t find any towels in my room.” You complained looking around his room. It was such a stupid excuse. Of course there were no towels, they would be by the water, not in every room, so you could grab them on your way. But it was the only idea you could come up with, having your mind clouded by the excitement you felt in your lower belly when you thought about Shinazugawa. It was even harder to act normal when you saw him, shirtless, messy white hair, the muscles on his back flexing as he turned to face you.
“I think you can find them there.” He answered. You turned around on your heels, biting your lip. He looked so good. Your fingers itched to touch all of his scars, on his arms and chest and abdomen and go even lower.
“Why don’t you come with me?” You blurted out.
“We would be in different areas anyway.” He replied. It made sense, usually there were separate spaces for men and women. But that wasn’t enough reason for you, especially not after seeing him in that state. You needed him very badly. At this point, you didn’t even bother to think if the feeling was mutual or if you were making a fool of yourself. You would do anything to ride Shinazugawa’s cock.
“Oh, come on.” Your voice was louder and higher in pitch than you expected. “The building is empty, save the guy at the reception. We’re the only people here.” The idea of getting in the hot water with you left Shinazugawa speechless. He could only imagine what was hiding under that robe and you were giving him the chance to find out.
***
You got in first while he turned around to give you some privacy until your body was covered in the cloudy water. It was great for your tired bodies, soaking in thermal water. But you weren’t here for that. You didn’t even feel the difference in temperature, since your body was already burning with lust.
“Hey, don’t look.” He said, embarrassed, when you gestured for him to come in. You playfully covered your eyes like a child, though peeking between your fingers to see Shinazugawa as he was getting undressed, catching a glimpse of his already hard dick. You quickly moved your fingers to cover your eyes, so he wouldn’t know. But the sight had already done irreversible damage to your mind. He couldn’t help but constantly think about the fact that you were naked under that water. So he tried to keep a decent distance between the two of you, not too big to become awkward but not too small so you couldn’t accidentally touch him and notice his dick was painfully hard. But you would always close the distance between the two of you. You would shift your position all the time, showing him something or pretending you didn’t hear what he was saying. When you moved, the water level would shift with you, revealing more or less of your round breasts, but never all of it.
“It looks so much better.” You said, getting the closest your ever got to him, as you gently touched his arm where you had bandaged it the night before.
“Sleep helps a lot.” He said, aware of the fact that, if you moved one inch closer, you would feel his dick against your belly.
“I tried my best so you wouldn’t get another scar.” You continued in a low, seductive voice that you didn’t know you possessed. Your fingers ran along Shinazugawa’s scarred skin, from his muscular arm up to his shoulder, brushing against his bony clavicle. “You already have so many.” He let out a hot breath as your fingers continued their way on his chest where two long scars crossed each other in an x shape. “But I always thought they’re hot.” Your touch moved even lower, on the scar that was travelling along his abdomen. By now, your hand was already underwater.
“Y/n…” Shinazugawa breathed out your name, almost moaning it. It was torture to him. You could at least say what you wanted from him, straight to his face, without killing him second by second with ghostly touches and promiscuous words. “What are you doing?”
You looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes hungry with lust. It was unbearable for him.
“What do you think I’m doing?” The sarcasm lingering in your languid voice reminded him of all the arguments you usually had. Shinazugawa grabbed you by the chin carefully but firmly enough to force your head back to look up at him. You never thought his rough hands damaged by countless fights with demons could be this gentle.
“I think you’re being desperate.” His lips moved dangerously close to yours, though never touching, as he leaned his face towards yours. “And I’m running out of patience.” His eyes were so demanding that your hand rested just above his navel, not daring to go lower as long as he was forcing you to look at him.
“I could see that.” You mouthed back, obviously referring to his erection.
“Then do something about it.” He muttered between his teeth. You didn’t need anything more. Pressing your body against his, you kissed him roughly and he let you get whatever you wanted for a while. It was almost amusing to Shinazugawa, to see how hungrily your lips pressed against his, how desperate your tongue was to circle with his. The pressure of your flesh against his dick didn’t provide the friction he needed, but it was promising enough. Your hands were all over his body, craving to have no inch left untouched. He grabbed you by the hips, holding you still as you were already standing on your tippy toes to be able to kiss him. Shinazugawa had lost count to how many fantasies he had imagined in his head before, but he was sure he never dared to dream you would be this hungry for him. Your lips soon left his and moved down to leave wet trails on his jaw and along his neck, biting and sucking. You heard him hiss in pain a few times, which only made you even more aroused. Every sound that was coming out of his mouth was so hot, so stimulating that it only made you even more desperate for him.
Shinazugawa let you do as you pleased for a while. After all, it was extremely satisfying to him to have you all over himself. He might have gotten bored though, because one of his hands grabbed you by the hair and forcefully pulled your face away from him. You whined in pain and frustration.
“You’re such a needy whore.” Your lips were swollen and your eyes darkened as you looked back at him. He let go of your hair as he kissed you, arms circled around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. This time, he was in control and you had no way of regaining dominance as his tongue roughly pushed against your lips, forcing its way inside your mouth. Your breasts were tightly pressed against his chest and you felt the desperate need for friction between your legs. But Shinazugawa’s hands moved down your back, grabbing your ass, fingers digging painfully deep into your flesh. You whimpered against his mouth, but not because of the pain. He had you paralysed now. You couldn’t move your hips against him anymore.
***
You didn’t know how you got out of the water, briefly patted your bodies dry with some towels and put on robes to cover yourselves in case an employee would see you on the hallway. You only remembered Shinazugawa’s tight grip on your hand as he dragged you after him, rushing back to his room. He slammed the sliding door open and allowed you to step in first. You barely let him closed the door, your hands already pulling at his robe that was already undone. He pushed you against the wall, cornering you. There was nowhere to run, his large body covered yours with ease. In a totally unexpected gesture, he brushed his fingers through your damp hair, as if trying to make sure you were really there with him.
You were taken aback by this change in pace and atmosphere. But he hissed in pain and only now did you become aware of the fact that you had been too focused on your own needs, to such an extent that made you forget his body wasn't in such a good condition as your own.
"Shinazugawa?" You called out his name as you gently sat with him on the floor. He snorted at the formal way his surname sounded out of your mouth. The same mouth that was so ready to swallow him whole a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, we can stop if you can't-"
"No!" He quickly dismissed the idea. After years of hidden feelings and wet dreams he was so close to having you. He would not lose the chance.
"But your body is-" You tried brushing the white strands of hair out of his face to see him and your fingers felt the uneven texture of the scar on his forehead.
Shinazugawa didn't bother arguing with you. He simply kissed you again, slower this time, more sensual and intimate. It felt as if the roughness and hunger from before were only the outer layer to something deeper that he wanted to convey to you and you let him have his own pace, although the heat between your legs was aching. He seemed to know that, because he grabbed your hand and guided it down between your legs. You instinctively spread them open, anticipating. Guided by his hand, your fingers slowly rubbed circles against your clit and you moaned against his mouth.
"Touch yourself for me." He said. For a moment, you thought that he meant for you to please yourself because he wasn't able to. But, as he pulled away from you and placed his palms behind him on the wooden floor, leaning back to see you better, you noticed that the brief moment of vulnerability was gone from his eyes. He was demanding, exactly as he sounded. His robe was covering only his arms and shoulders as it fell down at his sides and spilled on the floor, undone, his bared body fully exposed to your eyes. Your eyes took in the sight, with great attention to his throbbing cock that seemed to invite you to touch it. At first, you found it akward and embarrasing, especially feeling the pressure of his eyes watching your every move, eager not to miss one bit of it. But you've done it many times before, you've touched yourself with him on your mind so many times. On top of that, his presence quickly changed from an impediment to a huge turn on. You saw the way he licked his lips as he watched you, flinching at every sound you let out. More than anything you were desperate for his dick that was proudly sticking hard against his lower abdomen like a prize you could get only if you passed this test. So you continued to stimulate yourself.
Shinazugawa was fascinated by you. He was under some kind of spell, eyes focused on your body, taking in every bit of detail. How wet you were becoming, the small mole on your inner left thigh, your exposed neck as your head fell back in pleasure. He touched himself too, placing his palm at the base of his cock, stroking it faintly in order to relieve some of of the tension in his entire body. As much as he couldn't wait to fuck you, something else inside him took even more pleasure from witnessing your filthiest, most sexual self. And you were doing it just for him.
"Say my name. My own name." Shinazugawa's command covered the sound of your mewls. You've done that before as well. Alone, in your room, while everybody slept, you would moan his name as you masturbated. His name, not his surname that you asdressed each other by, the name you couldn't call him by out loud.
"Sanemi." You moaned. You always thought his name was moanable.
"Fuck." He breathed out, as your voice found its way inside his body, driving him closer to orgasm. "Say it again."
"Sanemi." You obliged. With eyes half open you saw him touching himself as well.
"Again." He grunted.
"Sanemi I'm-"
"Don't cum." He warned, figuring out from the way your voice cracked that you were close. You gently hit your head against the wall in frustration, forcing your hand away from your throbbing clit. You were so close. When you looked back at him, he was already sitting on the futon, gesturing for you to come next to him. With shaky legs, you crawled on all fours towards him. He greeted you with another wet kiss, his hand cupping one of your breasts, his thumb running circles around your nipple.
"I want to ride you." You pleaded against his lips.
"Only if you ask nicely." He grinned. Although he was composed and teasing, the way you were so straight forward about your desires made his head spin in exicitement. You gently pushed your palms against his muscular chest and he lightly fell with his back against the futon.
"It wasn't a question." You said as you straddled him.
Shinazugawa watched as you climbed on top of him, biting his lower lip in satisfaction whe he felt your soft plushy tighs press against his hips. He put both his hands under his head, looking at the curves of your body on top of him, at the way your hair was falling over your shoulders, covering only small parts of your breasts. From the first moment he saw you, he felt attracted to your body. But now that he was witnessing it completely naked, in all its beauty, he was sure you had to be a goddess.
He allowed you to do whatever you pleased with him. At first, you only rubbed your folds against his dick lightly, rocking your hips in a slow back and forth motion on top of him. He could feel that you were dripping wet, your juices covering him all over. You placed one hand on his chest for support as you picked up the pace, your cunt finally getting the friction it needed for so long. Shinazugawa moaned in response, stimulated by your movements. The sound was so beautiful to your ears. You were determined to make him more vocal. And you did, as a grunt from deep inside his throat came out when you slowly slided his cock inside your welcoming walls. You took your time, adjusting to his girth. Your eyes were glued to his face, trying to memorize as much of his expression as possible. Lips parted, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed, white hair spilling on the futon like a halo around his head. Your first moves were painfully slow for him. The muscles on his arms were tensed and he seemed like he was putting a lot of effort into keeping his hands to himself and not thursting into you as hard and fast as he needed. But the look of ecstasy on your face as your rolled your hips gradually faster, your breasts bouncing with every move, wet sloppy sounds filling the room in a rapid rhythm and your moans, god especially your loud moans as you used his body to please yourself, all of these were making Shinazugawa feel more than satisfied.
Soon, he had to grab you by the hips because, in your desperation to feel him as deep as possible inside, your movements became chaotic and violent, losing pace and balance. He held you in place, his fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips. Supporting yourself on one arm securely placed on his chest, you managed to find his hand and pushed it back towards your ass. His large hands moved to your back as you guided him, grabbing your ass and pushing your body even more against his cock. The sharp sound of his palm slapping your ass as you bouced up and down his dick echoed in the room, sending a flash of pleasure right to your core and your head fell back in pure pleasure. You moaned loudly, probably the loudest so far, and he felt the consequences of it as your walls tightened around him.
"That's right you're so fucking loud." He said and he slapped your ass again, obtaining the same chain of reactions from you.
Sweat was dripping all over your body and you were running out of breath, but the way his cock felt inside you was addictive. Your hand moved to your clit, feeling like the stimulation wasn't enough to drive you to your orgasm, but Shinazugawa's hand pushed yours away. He laid his palm flat against your belly, pushing against your flesh as his thumb found your clit and provided the additional stimulation you needed. There was a puddle of your fluids forming around the base of his cock, as your hips rose and fell on top of him over and over again. Shinazugawa knew better than spilling his seed inside you. Instead, he concentrated on driving you to your high, noticing how your whole body tightened around him, your muscled tensed and eyes tightly shut, all your senses focused on the way his cock rubbed against your walls hitting your sweet spot over and over and over.
Your moans turned into whimpers and then into uneven breaths as you got closer to the edge. But there was one missing thing to get you there. Intuitively and out of pure erotic instinct, Shinazugawa's hand reached your neck, grabging it between his thumb and index finger, putting enough pressure for you to feel lightly choked. You looked down at him despite your blurry vision, his eyes already locked on yours. You gasped for air while your hips slammed against his uncontrollably. His thumb stimulated your clit and your vision whitened as you finally came, your moan reveberating in the room covering the sound of your bodies. You pressed your hips one last time against his body, taking his lenght as deep as it could go, as you chased every last drop of that numbing pleasure that spread trough every nerve in your body making your legs shake. Your heart was beating at a rapid pace to the brink of failing inside your chest as you removed yourself from him, falling on your back next to him.
With the weight and warmth of your body gone, Shinazugawa took it upon himself to reach his own orgasm. His cock was covered in your juices mixed with precum as he wrapped his fingers around it. He turned to look at you, finding the most arousing sight. Your chest was moving up and down as your lungs filled with air and released it, your brests jiggling slightly with every move. You were covered glistening in sweat, legs still pressed together to find every last bit that was left of that sweet high you had reached. On your hips he could see the marks of his fingers turning purple. But the expression on your face, that was the most rewarding thing for him. Furrowed brows, lips slightly parted, hair sticking to tour temples as you let out soft whimpers. All of this because of his cock. He came quick enough, groaning with his eyes closed, your ravished image still impregnated in his mind.
But it was just the beginning. Although releasing his seed eased some of the tension built up in his body, Shinazugawa was nowhere near done with you. Soon enough you felt his heavy weight over your worn out body and opened your eyes in surprised to look at him, towering over you. His cock was laying on your belly, his balls rounded full with arousal ghosting above your skin.
"I hope you've had your fun." He said, "It's my turn now." The look in his eyes was so animalistic as he spoke, you felt your insides twist in satisfying ache as arousal was building up inside you once again.
You cupped his face with both your hands as you kissed him, hungry for his lips, for his touch, for his throbbing cock again inside you. He groaned against your mouth, one hand finding your breast and grabbing it harshly, the soft plush flesh of it squeezed in his rough hand. You whined in response and then he slapped it, gaining an even louder cry of pain from you. Your legs desperately found his waist and tried to get a hold of them, but he pulled away from you, grabbing you by the thighs and forcing you to turn around on the futon, face down, as he ripped the robe you still had on away from your body. His palm hit your bare ass lightly and you quickly understood the command, rising your hips from the floor and up in the air, supporting your weight on your knees.
"Good girl." He cooed in approval as his hands held you in place.
You were expecting his cock to penetrate you any minute now. Instead, he took his time to take in the view of your waist that curved generously into your hips and ass exposed just for him, as the air of the room felt cold compared to your burning, soaked cunt.
"Sanemi..." You cried out. You couldn't see his face, but the sound your voice whining out his name so pathetically got him even cockier than before and his lips curled in a half grin.
"Hmm?"
"Please..." You felt him so close to you, but not close enough. Your pussy ached for his thick cock but you could't even find some sort of consolation with your ass up, legs unable to come close to each other as his own knees were pushing yours open.
"You're not so bold anymore." You didn't need to see his face, the arrogant tone in his voice said everything you needed to know.
The only thing you could do from that position was push your hips back towards him, in hopes that you'll earn some friction. But his hands stopped you as soon as you moved, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue critically. He leaned over your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair and you felt his cock press against your cunt. It was only a feeble touch but enough to have your eyes roll in stimulation as he pulled you by the hair, forcing you to arch your back.
"If you insist on behaving like a slut I'll treat you like one."
That's exactly what you so desperately wanted and he quickly fulfilled his promise as you felt his dick strech your walls once again. You groaned as he didn't lose any time for you to adjust, instead he just thrust in and out of you with violent and swift movements and you had to place your hands firmly on the futon to resist the force he was pushing into you or else your body would have slipped. But he had full control of your body, one hand on your hips pushing your ass back towards his body as he rammed his dick inside you over and over, the other hand a tight grip on your hair, pulling you towards him. The angle allowed him to hit new and untouched spots inside you, and the stimulation that his aggressive movements provided was numbing all your other senses. You didn't feel the pain in your scalp when he pulled you by the hair, you didn't feel your back aching because of the unnatural way it was bending, you didn't feel the strain on your knees, already overworked from riding him, you didn't feel your arms almost giving up, unable to support your body anymore. You only felt his cock slamming into you, his balls hitting your folds with every move.You could only hear his grunts and pants on top of the wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh relentlessly. Your walls tightened around him as you were slowly getting closer to your second orgasm.
But even though ecstasy was numbing everything else and the only thing you could discern was how good his fat cock felt inside you, your body was bound to break down at some point. And it did, because the hands you used to support the upper half of your body slipped and you fell face down on the pillow. Shinazugawa's reflexes followed suit as his hand let go of your hair and both his muscular arms hugged your waist, holding your body in place while he never stopped pounding into you. Now that he was leaning over your back, arms roughly holding your waist, his face buried in your soft hair, you could clearly hear all the unholy sounds coming out of his mouth close to your ear. He was in pure bliss. Contrary to the wet and sticky state of your bodies and the room that was filled with the smell of sex, your hair still embraced him in a fresh and sweet scent that he had always associated with you. Your fists were grabbing the pillow tightly, toes curling in pure pleasure. You moaned in pain as you felt him sink his teeth into the back of your shoulder, groaning like an animal as his movements became uncontrollable and messy, lacking the rhythm and structure they had before. You desperately forced your hand to move under your belly and up between your legs to help yourself reach your high the second time. Shinazugawa was too far gone, too concentrated on his own plesure and his own instincts to even think about you at this point. He was thrusting inside you brutally, chasing his own orgasm, gutural sounds that resembled an animal more than a human coming out of his throat as his teeth were still sunk into your flesh.
But you came too fast. Because you rushed to touch yourself in addition to his cock stimulating your insides, you reached the second, more violent orgasm. It felt twice as much intense as the first and, if it hadn't been for the pillow that your face was buried into to mute your scream of pleasure, you would have woken up the whole village. Your walls tightened around his cock as you came but he wasn't done yet. Soon, you were overstimulated and crying under him. You couldn't fight back, you couldn't push him away or stop him from fucking your overly sensitive cunt. His whole weight was pushing down on you, his arms holding you immobilized as he used your body as a simple sexual object to get himself off. The pillow soon turned wet with your tears. You didn't even know if he was able to hear your cries over his own grunts.
You knew he was done when he moaned your name as came, his seed spilling on your back. You collapsed alongside him on the futon, his grip around your waist never losening. You felt sore and exhausted and used as you laid on your side with him behind you, hearing his deep breathes as he was starved for air. His arms, still securely wrapped around your waist, pulled you closer as he buried his face in your hair and only now you became aware of how sticky your bodies covered in your mixed juices were. It would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy the sense of safety and calm his warmth gave you. So you remained there, without saying a word, as both of your hearts reached a normal rate and your muscles relaxed, the hazy veil of arousal lifting from both your minds.
"I'm sorry for..." He started but he didn't finish his sentence.
It was fascinating to you how mellow his voice sounded, making it almost impossible to understand that the animalistic sounds from before came out of the same mouth. In response, you gently grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on his knuckles. The same knuckles that yanked your hair, the same unyielding arm that held your body against your will against him, they were so weak and willing to follow your guidance.
"How...was it?" He sheepishly asked. You giggled while playing with his fingers. For some reason both of you still avoided seeing face to face.
"It was breathtaking." You said and felt him relax behind you, smiling reassured of your praise.
Soon enough your naked bodies started getting cold. He sat up even though you whined in protest like a little child. Only now did you dare to turn around and look at him, standing in the middle of the room completely naked, with his back turned to you. As he moved, your eyes followed his tall figure from the rounded calves to his ass and up his muscular back and wide shoulders, speding a bit too much time on the nape of his neck then fell back along the lines of his defined arms and slender fingers. You bit your lip, enjoying the view a little bit too much. If it hadn't been for the soreness and your already weakened body from slaying a demon a day prior you would have definitely gone for a third time.
"Sanemi?" You called out his name and it felt so natural, so domestic, so right that you wondered how you ever called him by his surname all this time.
"Yeah?" He turned his face to you instinctively, revealing his handsome profile.
"Nothing. I was just practicing." He scrunched his nose at you like a child and turned back, biting his lip because the sound of his name out of your lips still made him somewhat nervous. He came back to you with a bowl of water and some clean cloths that were left untouched when he fixed his bandages before. You were still on your back, finding another spot that stinged with pain every time you tried sitting up.
"No, it's fine I can do it myself." You quickly tried to dismiss him when he sat down next to you, drenching the cloth in water and touching your thigh to get your legs spread. It made you very nervous and somewhat embarrassed, having him clean you up.
"Shh." It was the only sound that left his lips, so gentle and so loving that you had to give up resisting.
He cleaned up your body with care and all you could do was simply stand there and look at him in awe. He helped you sit up, made you turn around, checking if there was anything left when he noticed the blueish marks on your hips. He leaned over your body, placing a soft kiss over the bruised skin like an apology. Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched. Butterflies exploded in your stomach and you couldn't take your eyes away from him. He was so handsome, so strikingly beautiful. He seemed to notice that you were staring because he smiled back at you.
"There's another one." You said as you brushed your hair away from your shoulder, turning to the side to show him the marks of his teeth on your skin. You didn't know how it looked but you could feel it swollen and pulsing and you guessed it looked worse than the marks on your hips.
"Ah... I'm sorry for... this." So this is what he wanted to say the first time. As he applied some ointment to your shoulder he couldn't help but notice that sweet flowery scent again.
"Can I ask you something?" He said unsure and you nodded. "I.. I always liked the way you smelled. Is it like a perfume or something?"
"I-I know you like gardenias..." You mumbled sheepishly. It was an old habit that you developed because of him. "I heard Genya talking about it once and I..." He chuckled in response to your voice cracking with embarrassment and you felt your cheeks burning.
"I only like them because they remind me of you."
"We're not very bright, are we?" You said, relieved.
"It is only Tomioka's fault." He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the covers, pulling them over both of your bodies.
"What?"
"If you weren't friends with him maybe you would have been easier to approach." He shrugged.
"Maybe if you wouldn't be so petty and hostile you would have been easier to approach." You spat back. Instead of getting angry like usual, he started laughing. The sound of his honest amused laugh warmed your heart instantly.
"Ah, this really feels like our usual conversations."
***
Tomioka sneezed for the third time in a row. It was beginning to get annoying how his training was interrupted by continuous sneezing. It was probably pollen from the trees.
"Someone must be talking about you." Tanjiro remarked.
╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯
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eyesthecolorofarson · 2 months
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Lower Lifeforms
Someone has broken into The Batcave. They don’t know how, but suddenly two lifeforms were detected in the middle of the Batmobiles runway. Lifeforms, Tim noted, not humans. They all rushed into the cave, and were met with two Damian’s.
They could tell who their Damian was by the Robin costume so not a shapeshifter, but he was wearing a black suit with white gloves, boots and cape with a pulled down hood. His hair took the form of a flame, and his eyes were glowing red. Despite this his facial features were identical to Damian’s, even the scowl directed at them looked to be pulled right off of Damian’s face.
He heard Jason shout and turned to see a girl, also identical to Damian and more so with the other one, fighting Jason and Dick at the same time. She was wearing a suit similar to the other, just the top was cropped and half was white and the other half black. Tim joined the fray, but they were quickly defeated. Ice was wrapped around their arms and legs, and Damian was already iced to the floor. The girl whooped and jumped over them playfully.
“Great,” he heard Jason mutter, “more demon brats.” The girl paused and turned, as did the boy. They tilted their heads in sync, the boy looking far more annoyed and the girl amused. “‘Demon brat’,” she repeated thoughtfully, “Is that a new slur humans are callin us?” The boy scoffed so much like Damian and walked towards the Batcomputer. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” He turned towards them and glared.
“It’s just as uncreative as the other ones.” He turned back to the Batcomputer and started typing. Ok, Tim thought, let’s recap. There were two kids who looked identical to Damian in the Batcave. These kids were a different species that had interacted with humans before, and all these interactions had been bad enough and gone on long enough that there were human slurs for their species. These Damian-lookalikes wanted information on all the meta laws and extraterrestrial species laws in place on earth, from what he could see the boy looking up on the Batcomputer.
“It’s not! Really it’s not! It’s just that—“ Dick didn’t get to continue. The ice around his arms extended to cover his mouth, stopping just below his nose. The same happened to them. “Hey!” The girl whined, “I wanted to hear what he’d say!” The boy scoffed. “Humans don’t have anything good to say about us, so I don’t understand why you always want to hear them talk.” The girl huffed and went to the boys side.
“It’s history! We can put it in the books ‘humans called us this for this reason, and it meant this’,” she mimed reading from a book, and the boy huffed. “We already know why they call us names. It’s not any important as the other ones.” It was silent as he typed quickly, and more information came up. Earths relationship with the Martians, the Tamaraneans, Kryptonions, magic users and ultraterrestrials. So they were from off planet.
“What if they’re nice?” The girl asked, and the boy sighed. “Have you ever met a nice human?” The girl answered no. “Have you ever heard of a nice human?” The girl thought, then answered no. “Has any human even pretended to be nice to you?” The girl answered no again. “Humans aren’t capable of being what we know as ‘nice’ or ‘kind’; kindness is a form of higher cognitive ability and empathy, something human brains haven’t developed over the hundreds of years they’ve had the chances to. What they instead developed is a higher level of aggression.”
The boy touched screen, and the Batcomputer glitched as something green spread into the boys hand. He pulled his hand away, and turned towards them. The ice around their mouths and Damian melted away, leaving no water behind. “What are you?” Damian hissed, and was easily knocked to the ground. “If you hate us so much, why not kill us?” The boys scoffed and leaned in close.
“Because we are better than you. The only thing humans see as an answer is war, is blood and death. We’re capable of more than the senseless violence you’ve built your societies on.” He stood smoothly and walked down the way they’d appeared. “Da⃠nella,” he called, “let’s go.” Da⃠nella waved and the rest of the ice melted, and they scrambled to follow.
The last they saw of Da⃠nella and the boy they were walking into a bright green portal.
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caesthoffe · 2 months
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An Update on Brianna Ghey
tw // extreme transphobia, hate crime, violent death, death of a child
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If you're unfamiliar with Brianna Ghey, you can read up on the story here or watch this overview. There's been multiple updates, and I wanted to let people know about the most important ones.
On February 4th 2024, the two originally unnamed teenagers— the 16-year-old boy now identified as Eddie Ratcliffe, and 16-year-old girl now identified as Scarlett Jenkinson —have been sentenced to life in prison for the fatal stabbing of Brianna (x).
On the day of her murder, February 11th 2023, Brianna took the No 28 bus at around 2pm to meet up with Jenkinson (who brought Ratcliffe along without Brianna's knowledge). The two led her to a path on Culcheth Linear Park, where she was stabbed to death with a hunting knife (x) that Ratcliffe provided. Although both parties would later blame the other in court, it's important to note that Ratcliffe was the only one with blood found on his clothes. Brianna was stabbed a total of 28 times in her head, neck, chest, and back (x). Not long after, Jenkinson posted this to her snapchat account.
Her murder was premeditated weeks in advance (x), with the pair plotting their attack against Brianna (x), who was anxious and rarely went out alone. They'd previously attempted to kill her before, although those plans ended up failing (x).
Prior to her murder, she'd sent a message to her mother saying "I'm on the bus by myself. I'm scared." To which her mother had replied that she was proud of her attempt at going out alone. Unfortunately, Brianna never got to read that text.
Thousands of text messages have leaked from the two killers, where Ratcliffe misgenders and demeans Brianna, and Jenkinson details her obsession with Brianna.
➡ When Jenkinson sent Ratcliffe some selfies of Brianna, he replied, "Is it a femboy or a tranny?"
➡ After Jenkinson expressed that she thought Brianna was prettier than her, Ratcliffe had said, "Prettier but it's a boy."
➡ Jenkinson had texted him on Whatsapp, "I'm obsessed over someone I know but don't have feelings for them... She's called Brianna... I don't know how to explain. She looks like a girl, she sounds like a girl, she's really pretty." To which Ratcliffe replied, "Tell me what you feel when you interact with it. I don't think you're necessarily in love but I think you're more curious and intrigued by its unnatural nature." (x)
➡ After their initial attempt to kill a different student failed, Jenkinson suggested that they stab Brianna instead. Ratcliffe agreed, saying "Yeah, it'll be easier and I want to see if it will scream like a man or girl."
➡ Jenkinson discussed wanting to take Brianna's "pretty" eyes as trophies, and Ratcliffe said "Really all I want to see is what size dick it had."
➡ During the trial, when asked by the prosecutor why he used the terms "it" instead of "she" for Brianna, he said that it was a "joke" and that he had picked it up from other people.
Despite all of this, Cheshire police are still adamant that Brianna's murder was not motivated by transphobia (x), because "...If it hadn't been Brianna, it would have been one of the other four children on that list." This is further corroborated by Detective Inspector Nigel Parr of Cheshire Constabulary, who led the investigation. Outside the court, he claimed that "this was a senseless murder committed by two teenagers who had an obsession with murder, whose only motivation in killing Brianna was to experience what this would be like." (x)
The headteacher of Birchwood Community High School has claimed that she spoke to Brianna's mom who "confirmed that Brianna was not bullied at Birchwood and always felt well supported by the school," and that Brianna's mother had given her permission to share that (x). This is despite multiple of Brianna's friends, and Brianna herself (x), saying the opposite (x).
The two killers are eligible for parole in 20 and 22 years. I can only hope they atone for the harm they've caused Brianna's family, the trans community, and everyone else affected.
I hope one day we can live in a world where being trans isn't a death sentence. Where major news outlets can report on trans victims with respect (x). Where anti-trans hatred spewed by TERFs and radfems, right wing politicians and conservative talk show hosts no longer hold such an influence in the world.
We will be able to live as ourselves one day. Without fear. I just wish Brianna could be here to see it.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 3 months
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"Oh my god you guys, you are soooo going to hate me, or maybe love me for this....? So.... this guy reached out to me on Instagram and he's a really famous photographer. Apparently he's doing a whole gallery about artistically showing really dramatic and inspiring detransition journeys.... So, trans men going from intelligent, handsome dudes with full beards to basically big-boobed trad wives pregnant with quintuplets, IQs lowered to the 50s. And of course he's cataloguing trans girls going from looking like me to big, macho, muscular men, with full beards, huge cocks..... He said it's OK if I don't want to detrans, a lot of the people he reaches out to have no interest in detransitioning personally, but decide to just to participate in his project. Soooo, don't kill me..... I agreed to join!
I actually have considered detransing off and on in the past, to see what male puberty would feel like, to see my cock get nice and big, and of course every trans girl's biggest fantasy: to cum like a man and shoot a dozen ropes of cum in a row. He showed me his t-girl models. Such gorgeous girls! Huge natural boobs, fat asses, the prettiest faces you can imagine. Most of them had no interest at all in detransitioning and were just flattered by his offer. We get paid, too, which is nice. What finally convinced me is he had a former trans guy message me, this sweet girl who still sounded kinda like a boy from all the T, who looked divine. Super curvy, breasts about as big as mine, full of milk, pregnant with sextuplets, long silky hair, a giggling mess with a huge smile. She teased me, telling me how much more fun I'd have fucking former fake-boys like her than being a girl. She asked me if I ever shoved my cock in a girl's pussy and got her pregnant. Of course I haven't. She teased me about being an impotent fake-girl. That I needed to work out, get muscular, lose my oversized moobs, grow my cock to over a foot long..... embrace being male.
Not going to lie, I jerked off during our exchange and came sooooo hard, for a fake-girl, anyway. I wanna take T and detrans so bad. I wanna get girls pregnant. I need to stop playing dress up and showing off the silly cow-tits I made my poor male body grow. It's time I lose them, bulk up, and become a hairy alpha guy who can lift girls like me right off our feet and fuck us senseless! I need to fuck gorgeous pregnant college girls and get lots of girls pregnant--especially poor misguided fake-boys. It's time I embrace being a man and give up on being such silly imitation of a girl, who gets morning wood and stares at girl's fat titties..... who jerks off ten times a day watching hardcore porn of girls getting put in their place, face-fucked, gang banged, used and abused as girls should be. I'm not some silly fake-girl who jiggles her ridiculous, estrogen-bloated boy-tits at people, hoping to get fucked in the ass by desperate guys. I should be an alpha, mocking fake-girls like me for our pathetic little hard cocks bulging out of our skirts and dresses because pretending to be a girl makes us soooo hard!
I hope you guys aren't too mad. This photographer really showed me who I'm meant to be. I can't wait to lose these stupid-looking boy-tits and finally become a man! My OnlyFans content will change from topless walking vids, topless public vids, public masturbation vids, and whipping out my phone when men decide to fuck me on public transportation, to me fucking gorgeous curvy girls, impregnating and reminding fake-boys to be good girls, and having my way with fake-girls in public, as I'm so used to, but I'll give them a nice shot of T as I fuck them to help them along to becoming men, too. ❤️"
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rockstvrdotcom · 10 months
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❁ // YANDERE! EYELESS JACK SFW + NSFW HCS
synopsis: ej is sosososoosoososooo inlove with you— literally fell for u the second he saw u and he knew he couldn't let anyone else have you
that jtk yandere hcs request sparked smth in me..
tw/cw: noncon, stalking, kidnapping, ej has multiple tongues lol, begging, overstimulation, rough sex, ej gives u brain 😛, dumbification.. (i think), marking, being tied up, breeding kink
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SFW
- you had caught ej on his mission, you were a heavily trained cia member and were often assigned to serial killers; he was much more stronger than you. he easily overpowered you and knew he couldn't let you go.
- but he didn't want to kill you, he was taken aback by your beauty. he brought you back to the mansion and held you captive, caring for you no matter what profanities you spat at him, or how many times you uselessly throwed punches and scratched his face.
- called you stupid but cute lil pet names— sometimes just straight up called you pet. calls you sweetheart, darling, my love, angel, princess; all of that cute corny stuff.
- loves to see you in his shirts, forces you to wear them even if its just a simple plain black shirt.
- gets furious whenever you mention leaving him or the mansion, or when you mention that you have a life and a boyfriend to go back to. he doesn't tell you he's already killed your boyfriend— and everybody else close to you, he's afraid you'll hate him forever. he screams at you, telling you that all you need is him and nothing else.
- if you ever mention leaving him or ever mention your family, job, or boyfriend; he'll sometimes leave you isolated for days (or something else..) no food nor water, chained up to your shared bed. he shows you how life would really be like if you didn't have in.
- totally accidentally killed your boyfriend, cooked him and fed him to you.. to this day you still have no idea.
- very attentive
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NSFW
- whenever you mention leaving him or mention anything outside of your life with him, he'd typically leave you in a dark room for days with nothing. but on special occasions.. he'll bend you over the bed and fuck you senseless, making you chant his name. he pounds into you until the only thing on your mind is him; and how much you love him.
- loves to make you beg for him during sex. or just anywhere- it makes him so hard when you beg in a whiny voice and look up to him, pleading. (he towers over you).
"fuck... jack, please slow down. it's too much—" he cuts you off by putting his hand around your throat. you can't remember how many times you've orgasmed already. you sobbed; in both pleasure and overstimulation. you feel him throbbing inside of you, and it feels like heaven.
"i won't stop until you admit that you are mine, my love."
- eats you out.. alot. literally almost every day. hes obsessed with the taste of you. your legs are almost always hoisted up onto his shoulders while he uses his tongues to pleasure you in a way you've never felt before.
- his dick is 7 inches dont play w me.
- obsessed with tying you up, also likes to carve, draw or tattoo his name/initials on you; especially on your thighs, ass and sometimes right above or next your pussy. it's his way of showing you that you belong to him— and so does your cunt.
- has a very prominent breeding kink. constantly talks about putting his babies in you so you can't ever leave him.
your hands were tied to the headboard of your guys' bed, the bed creaking; it sounded as if it was about to crack. ej was deep inside of you, grunting and growling like a feral animal. his teeth were sunken into your neck as he endlessly talked about cumming inside of you and you won't ever be able to leave him if you have his kids.
"you'll be the perfect mother, sweetheart." 💗
- loves to fondle with your tits and grip at your thighs. it's his favorite part of your body; he often leaves marks all over them or writes/carves his name onto them.
- during sex, he's either making love to you or fucking you so hard you're unable to walk for days. when you've made him happy or anything else he would typically praise you for, it's as sweet and romantic as it could possibly get. when you've made him upset or angry? your left on the bed with his cum leaking out of your pussy, your legs so unbelievably sore.
- makes you cockwarm him while he's doing 'work'. he loves the feeling of your warm walls around his cock.
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i hope u guys enjoyed this one! tips/writing advice is very appreciated!
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gwiyeounsonyeon · 6 months
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Hate Me? So Do I.
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Pairing: cis!Simon Riley x Male Reader
Summary: Simon is angry and takes it out on his boyfriend
Words: 666😳
Warnings: Depression, drinking, angst? (not too bad)
Notes: sorry it sucks and how short it is, I'm tired and I got back from camping the other day, originally I wasn't going to write anything but I figured that I should if I'm trying to make this a habit. i figure that if I work up quantity over quality while I try to get into the habit of writing and work myself out of writers block then maybe later ill be able to focus on quality
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The weather had been gloomy all day, not for even a moment had the sun shown through the rain-heavy clouds. To say it had put a damper on y/n’s mood was an underestimate, the young man had woken up with an off feeling that followed him around for the rest of the day, not giving him any rest. Simon naturally hated that his sweet loving boyfriend had to feel like this and even more, he hated that there wasn't anything he could do about it.
Simon hated feeling helpless like this, he’d tried to cheer Y/n up but none of his attempts were successful and he was beginning to get restless. Simon’s boyfriend was in their bedroom bundled up in the covers with the lights off, unable to get out of bed. Simon sat on their couch in the living room, staring solemnly out of the window. He knew he should be in there with you but he couldn't do it, It killed him to see you like this, you were so sweet and understanding, and you did so much for him, he should be able to do this for you.
That’s what Simon thought, he was terrified, There was so much he could do and all of it was so easy, but he couldn't make himself get up and face you, so he kept his distance and sat in silence listening for you to make any sounds or call for him or get out of bed. Simon sipped on his whiskey and looked down at the liquid, swirling it around in the glass before deciding ‘fuck it’ and knocking back the whole thing, it burned on the way down, he looked over at the bottle debating on pouring himself more but he hesitated.
He couldn't help thinking he was pathetic, sitting here wallowing and drinking while his boyfriend was in pain. There's a soft thud from the bedroom and Simon's ears perk up to listen, he looks up at the open doorway into their dark bedroom expecting you to finally come out. Minutes pass and nothing happens, Simon sighs and sets the glass down on the coffee table with a harsh thud. The anger building up in his throat wasn't toward you, it never was, but it was using you to make Simon more irritable, angrier, Simon stands up from the couch and saunters into the bedroom, he flips the lights on aggressively and stares down at your covered body.
Simon knows he's not angry at you, not for something like this but in the moment he can't help it. “Are you just going to sleep all day? 5 in the evening” His tone was harsh and cold, There was a small movement from under the covers that Simon recognized as a flinch, he wanted to feel bad but you’re lack of response only worked to fuel his frustration. “Y/n!” Simon knew there was absolutely no need to raise his voice, but he hadn't realized that was what he did until after, You flinch harder, his breath catches in his throat as you finally fold the comforter back to look up at him for the first time that day, your eyes red and cheeks tear-stained.
Simon's heart tugs in his chest “fucking-” His voice is soft, Simon can't believe how fucking stupid he is, he moves in and gets into bed next to his boyfriend and tugs you to his chest regretting his senseless anger. “I'm an idiot Y/n…” He whispers, tucking his face into your hair, You shake your head and turn to clutch onto Simon, not wanting him to blame himself, You press your face into the older chest and inhale his comforting scent. “I shouldn't have yelled… You didn’t deserve that” Simon’s voice is soft, he holds you to his chest and rubs circles into your back soothingly ‘You don't deserve me’ Simon doesn't say it out loud, saying something like that would only cause you more grief.
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Text
I know I've spent a lot of time talking about Colin and violence, but I don't really grasp why people believe him opposed to all violence, rather than specifically senseless brutality and wanton violence.
Colin dislikes that he killed the banana man for no good reason. He bristles at Deli and Karna attacking the Saprophian in the crevasse when there was no threat. He walks away from working alongside Deli because he disagrees specifically with Deli's belief that they can direct the Meat Lands to be aggressive and swift and without consideration for what they are doing, where Colin believed that even then they had to be mindful and retrained in their actions. He avoids attacking the Saprophians in the tunnels.
At the same time, he dedicates himself to fighting the FDA using his skill in arms; it is why he agreed to become a knight, so that he is able to draw his sword in service to this goal without drawing suspicion. He participates in the war; he is more focused on freeing prisoners and turning the tides on desperate battles, but it is still combat. He does not hesitate to attack the first FDA member they see in the tunnels, even when everyone else is cautious.
Colin dislikes harm and brutality and senseless violence, but he is a realist and understands that to get certain things done, you have to break a few eggs. There's a difference between striking with precision to fell those who would mean others harm and striking without disregard for the collateral damage and those bystanders and undeserved you catch in your attack; it is the latter Colin hates, and his actions after the night on the Glucian Road strive for the former.
Colin wants justice, and he wants to defend the people of Calorum without engaging in the sort of brutal acceptance of the collateral damage of bystanders that is so common. He does not give up the sword; he turns his back on believing that innocent blood is a necessary evil.
It's my impression that Colin, yes, would rather he have other skills that are useful, but these are the skills he has. The thing he opposed in the end is senseless, cruel, wanton brutality without being mindful for who else you may run roughshod over in your search for power. He is free to be precise, to choose his targets carefully, to take time to confirm that they are people who mean ill and must be stopped.
His ending is more about the knife carefully applied. To excise the rot with the care and mindfulness necessary to leave and protect the rest of Calorum instead of hacking it away too—and I don't feel that is antithetical to his distaste for careless brutality at all.
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