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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months

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Regret

Pairing: DarkTom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Lying is a flaw that Tom doesn’t appreciate.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Dedicating this to @insectgf cause she's Tom's no.1 fan 😋

You nervously wring your hands as you peer around, eyes searching for movement near the dimly lit dungeon entrance.

The way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You've been waiting for just over half an hour, anxiety building up and infesting your thoughts while you hold vigil in hopes of finding Tom.

You should have never behaved like that. An act of pure stupidity and recklessness, that’s what it was.

Going to Hogsmeade in the company of a few girls of your dorm.

It was a rare occasion, something you never did before, and you had only relented after much begging and convincing from the girls. A dumb decision – one that led to a dreadful aftermath.

You should’ve known better. All of your joyful chatter and laughter at The Three Broomsticks immediately ceasing once you spotted the distinct lean figure of Tom seated in a distant table, surrounded by his friends, his brown-eyes fixed on you.

No surprise or shock in his gaze, only cold anger irradiating from his handsome features.

Something almost comprehensible given how you had explicitly told him you’d be spending all afternoon in your dorm, offering the poor excuse of a headache.

And now here you are. Scared, shaking like a leaf, waiting for the chance to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

You're so pathetic.

The time drags by, and you lose track, feeling as if you’ve been waiting for an eternity. But your efforts pay off when the door opens, revealing Tom.

Your heart leaps at the sight and fear clouds your mind when he offers you nothing but a quick murderous scowl that immediately turns into one of composed indifference before walking away past you, barely acknowledging your presence.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he walks with long strides through the empty corridors.

“Tom?”

“Tom…please.”

The boy ignores your numerous calls, but you keep your hasty pace even when it has you short breathed as Tom quickly charges through the stairways and halls.

“Tom, just listen to me.”

“And why should I listen to anything you spew out of that filthy mouth of yours?" his snarl scares you as he suddenly turns. "It appears that lies and deception is all I can expect from you.”

You wince, barely opening your lips before Tom walks away, choosing to stare blankly at a wall.

The confusion in your mind dissipates as a large door materializes on the door and only then you realize that you’ve reached the 7th floor.

The Room of Requirement.

You hesitate for a moment but proceed to follow Tom as he opens the door with a loud bang. Your existence remains ignored and you take a few small steps inside the room, unsure of how to bring Tom’s attention.

“Tom?”

For a moment, the possibility of Tom disregarding you again was present, and you fearfully awaited as the seconds went by without a proper reaction from Tom.

He inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before he relaxed.

But when he finally turned to face you, you almost wished he hadn’t.

The venom that darkened his face had your heart faltering, his eyes narrowing into thin slits that held nothing but anger and frustration. He almost looked like a snake.

You felt yourself turning smaller at the sight, suddenly unsure of how to speak.

“I-“

“Trust is a rather curious thing.” he says with his voice oddly serene, “An invisible yet very powerful bond, one that defines the nature of one’s relationship. That’s how I perceive it.”

“So, tell me. How many times?”

You look at him, confused.

“Tom-“

“How many times did you break my trust?” he repeats himself, brows contorting with annoyance, “How many times did you sneak behind my back to meet up with those filthy mudbloods?”

“I- Only this time.” you tearfully admit, lowering your gaze to the floor as Tom angrily hisses something in that strange snake language of his. “I swear, Tom. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Just this once? And why should I believe your unreliable words? You seem to be very determined in breaking my trust, so tell me why should I consider any of what you say to be true?”

Your lips shake when you bring yourself to look at Tom, tears burning in your eyes.

“But, …” a minuscule sob cuts you off, much to Tom’s irritation, “it is true. It was only this once, Tom, I swear on my life! I never lied to you before, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom, I really am!”

The intent with which he examines your pitiful face sets you on edge, heart plummeting against your ribs as you don’t dare to say a word.

“Prove it.”

“Prove wha-“

“Prove me that you won’t repeat this act of disloyalty. Assure me how sorry you are.” the way his eyes glint with a new cruel motivation has a shudder running down your body, aware that nothing good will come out of his proposition.

“Perform the Cruciatus Curse. On yourself.” his lips curl at your bewilderment, clearly enjoying taunting you.

This time, the tears overflow and slide down on your face pitifully and you look at Tom, silently begging him with your eyes.

But there’s no empathy in his face. Only a vile purpose.

“Go on, do it.” he takes a step forward, his tone borderline threatening despite how lightly he speaks. “You can either punish yourself or I’ll do it for you.”

“Because I assure you that in the end, you will suffer.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere tom riddle #dark tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #dark tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #imagine tom riddle #tom riddle x female reader #yandere x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere scenarios #tw: yandere #tw.dark content #tw: toxic relationships

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟗 — 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✦ kinktober day 19 — dumbification feat. al-haitham : childe : ayato : zhongli x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: nsfw : dumbification : !!! both parties are consenting !!! : calling you dumb, pathetic, stupid but in a cute way

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

"shh, this is okay, you're okay." you could perceive al-haitham's warm breath coating the shell of your ear, his rough lips tracing over your sensitive skin before sucking down on your earlobe. "we're not done yet, you know that, right?" the obvious feeling of a self-satisfied smirk playing across his rosy lips was somehow turning you on further, your already fucked out state perceiving new heights.

your mouth widened upon trying to say something, anything, yet nothing of importance was coming out, only short babbles and incoherent sentences of pure filth. You adored whenever al-haitham wouldn't hold back, whenever he'd claim you like that, fucking you silly until you felt like an empty shell, only filled with his cock that hit all the right spots deep inside you. Your cunt was aching, sucking him in as his hips grinded themselves into you, his pelvis rubbing hard against your clit which caused you to squeal out, eyes scrunched shut with your back arching into him.

"my stupid little baby, have i fucked you dumb already?" you're nodding frantically, a faint line of drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth as your lips slightly carved up into a tiny smile. "how much I love seeing you like that." his eyes closed suddenly and his mouth fell open, a guttural groan coming right out of his throat as he felt you squeeze around his girth. It's the most expressive he's been all night with you, his usual collected demeanor slowly falling apart and it's your fault alone, a little current of self satisfaction ringing over you.

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

how thankful you were that childe always took such good care of you, his lips twitching up into a smirk upon seeing you unravel against him. You felt so full, his cock fully sheathed in your tight cunt before slowly beginning to rut himself in. You tried your best to spread your legs wider, anything for ajax to be more efficient in fucking your brains out.

there was drool running from past the corners of your lips, enhancing the already lewd expression on your face, "how beautiful you look like that." ajax had a self satisfied smirk on his face resembling a man who knew he was in power, who knew he could do just how he pleased. "beautiful, but pathetic." his words turning into a moan as he grinded himself in another winkle to reach deeper into your cunt. You're crying out his name, legs flying up in the air to wrap around his body tighter, spine arching into his passionate touches.

your make-up was splotched on your face, mascara runny with your lashes sticking together, a sinful masterpiece in childe's eyes, one that needed to be engraved in his mind forever. He was tasting his orgasm on his tongue already, dreaming of staining your sensitive walls with his warm cum before finally reaching his desired climax upon hearing you groan out incoherent words. Childe threw his head back, feeling how you sucked him in, tightening around his girth and archons, how he adored fucking you dumb like that.

✦ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

ayato's grip was hard on your hips, your behind pushed up in the air while your face was shoved into the soft pillows. You could feel his hand pressing against the back of your head while rutting his cock forward into your heat, your pussy splitting open with every thrust. "fuck, angel, you're getting messier." his voice husky and playful, with innocent undertones that you very much knew weren't sincere.

your hardened nipples were rubbing against the bedsheets with every snap forward of his hips, only adding to the already unbearable pleasure you experienced. "more." you're crying out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze unable to escape, the ache in between your legs growing within minutes. Ayato was surprised you still were able to voice anything by the brute force he was fucking you into the mattress. "yeah?" he smirked, his sexual confidence radiating through the room as your body shivered around his hold.

"spread your legs wider then." his commanding tone was deep, hoarse and guttural, coming from deep inside his throat as you whined at his simple command. You were trying your best, shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches while it was becoming harder to breathe from the way ayato was pushing you into the mattress. "good." your blood was boiling, ayato twirled his fingers in your hair, suddenly thrusting forward to push his cock deeper down your sobbing cunt, catching you off guard. "my dumb little baby, is that what you wanted?" you weren't responding, unable to do so, really. Yet by the way you were desperately clenching around his girth, was enough of an answer to him.

✦ 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

the pleasure you were encountering because of zhongli made your head feel dizzy and heavy, your vision blurred with your own tears as you scrunched your eyes shut to get rid of them. You swallowed thickly as you fluttered your eyes open again, meeting his gaze in between your legs. Zhongli was licking his lips, his lustful expression making it difficult for you to remain silent, whining at his touches.

his eyes were never leaving your sobbing cunt, your folds glistering with both your juices and his spit as he dove back in, lapping up everything you gave him. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, loosing control over your own body as your hands tangled into his unruly hair. "it seems you like that." his voice eliciting soft whimpers from you, you could hear a groan coming out of his throat upon hearing you moan his name, over and over again.

"have you already reached your limits?" you desperately tried to shake your head, to tell him that you were fine and could still take it, could take him. Zhongli pulled away his tongue for a second, staring at your wet core, "I'll continue then." he teased, sliding a finger past your folds before spitting on your cunt, moving his tongue around again to get you even wetter, eyes rolling back as your legs got tighter around his head. He had you were he wanted you, even though zhongli wouldn't admit it, always hiding his real intentions with poems and riddles, he was quite possessive towards you, only ever showing it to you like that.

kinktober masterlist.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

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sehodreams · 3 months

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Forgiving others is easy, forgiving yourself not that much

Summary: Anton tried to take care of you in an unconventional way, putting you first into a helpless position. However, what he should've expected is for you to realize his intentions and to ruin his plans, but did you really ruin them at the end?

TW and tags: porn with plot (?), kind of dubcon (he tried to get her drunk but ends being the drunk one), all consentual at the end, pinning (from Anton), mentions of bullying at work place, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, no protection, tries of forced drinking, jealous Anton, kind of stalker!Anton, dark-ish, don't know how to decribe.

WC: 5.1k

Comment: to be honest I tried to write a porn without plot but it came out kind of weird, it changed so much while I wrote it I don't know what the hell happened in the process, but it's still most porn than story. I haven't posted anything lately because I write and delete them, but i finished this one so let's be happy I didn't toss it aside. Kind of dark so if you don't like this kind of content PLEASE JUST DON'T READ.

"Please, let me see your boobs, please" he was asking but he couldn't even wait for you to answer before his hand played with the fabric of your blouse trying to take it out of your tight skirt, you thought about just letting him have what he wanted, but did he deserve it? Not really.

He had tried to get you drunk at the dinner you had moments ago and had ended being the drunk one, so pathetic you couldn't help but dryly laugh out of second-hand embarrassment.

It was a team dinner so you couldn't reject the invitation, and the way he kept pouring and pouring shots of alcohol and passed them to you was suspicious, so you kept accepting them in front of everyone but tossing them to the plant next to you at the end of the table when he didn't stare at you with those wide expectant eyes. To everyone it looked like a cute hoobae trying to humor his superior, you were in charge of him because no one else wanted the heavy task of teaching the intern, and he reminded you of your first days there, inexperienced and scared, so you accepted him with grace and treated him with the care and a patience you wished you had received when you started.

At first you found it difficult to guide someone, you were used to always being alone, even with difficult tasks, but he made it bearable, always accepting advice from you, never questioning your decisions, and following your steps like a new born baby duck, and you found kind of endearing how he always made sure to stay and say thank you at the end of the day doesn’t matter how hard it was. Still, you couldn't deny how at the same time you always perceived a weird vibe from him, your eyes met his when you felt observed and he somehow knew when you needed something, if you were craving something sweet he miraculously bought extra dessert, if you murmured around how you wanted a coffee he would appear with your cup in seconds and if in the middle of a call you wanted to write something down he would gladly give you a page of his work at hand. He sometimes frightened you, but not in a bad way, so you tried to think he was just a young boy doing his best, however now that you confirmed he was human trash, you were disappointed in how you had wasted so much of your time into someone like him.

It was so sad, he was a sweet young boy just starting his first corporate job and he had so much potential, he always listened to you and offered his help with whatever you were doing, yes he was a bit awkward and shy, sometimes not daring to look directly at you in the eyes when you talked to him or stuttering when you surprised him with a question, but he still seemed honest and like a good kid, so you never expected him to try such a dirty move like that one, trying to get a girl drunk to do god knows what to her? You never punished him when he made a mistake at work, but right now you weren't at work, and he completely deserved it.

"Why should I?" You asked, slapping his hand away from you.

His cheeks were flushed and he was slurring his words, not even addressing you properly like his senior, forgetting the formalities and his usual self, he maintained eye contact as much as he could, trying to defy you for denying his wish. He did it until he realized you wouldn't break down under his gaze, even if he was bigger and stronger, you weren't scared of him at all, he could easily hurt you with his hands, he could push you to the floor right there in his apartment entrance and take you how he wanted, but you knew he wouldn't, how could the boy that always treated you like a goddess suddenly treat you like a mere mortal being? In the office he would follow you and take anything you had on your hands, like stacks of papers, boxes or even insignificant stuff like coffee cups, saying how he should carry them instead, if you said you were thirsty he would run to get a cold bottle of water from the vending machine, and when you tried to pay him back he would never accept it, "how could I? sunbaenim, I already owe you so much", he served you to the point you were sure that if you asked him, he would drop to his knees and pray your name every morning before work.

Perhaps that's why even when he tried to do such a sick thing, something so despicable that should definitely scare you away enough to not talk to him ever again, much deserving of a report to headquarters, after all the memories of you two together ran through your mind, you were there with him, in his house, letting him talk to you as if you were equals after helping him arrive safely to his house.

After some time his eyes went to the floor, he was moving from side to side, too intoxicated to keep his position, and when he almost tripped over his own feet, you grabbed his hands with yours, helping him stay still, pulling him slightly closer to you.

You can't deny that for a moment you were hesitant, even if he didn't, the possibility of him forcing himself on you was there, you thought a lot about it when you called the cab to his house after almost everyone had left when you went to the bathroom. You don't know if they tried to take him too and leave you alone in the restaurant, it wouldn't be the first time, but he had stayed to wait for you and take care of the bill with your boss credit card, only smiling at your direction when you asked him where everyone was, "don't know, but I'm here for you".

You could've left him in the cab and go home, all your instincts screamed to do that, that he was dangerous, he had obviously tried to put you in disadvantage to get something from you, the quantity of alcohol he had tried to force on you was almost unhealthy, and he did everything with his innocent face, fooling everyone except you.

However, the worst part was that he had been so obvious with his intentions you knew deep down that he had never done something like that before, you just had to look at his reddish cheeks and his dumb grin, his hand holding yours and stopping you from leaving him alone in the cab, to move that soft spot you had for him after taking him under your wing all those weeks.

You don't know why you wanted to go with him, even with that thrilled sensation of him maybe hurting you, you wanted to go, your mind too curious of what would happen for your body to listen any coherent thought about leaving.

"Sunbaenim, come with me, I'll take you home" he said not even looking at you, eyes closed and his hand holding tight yours. The driver looked behind for a second, if the roles were reversed, you were sure he'd have called the cops the minute you hoped in, but when he saw you, a soft girl with a serious expression looking out for her intoxicated coworker, he didn't care anymore.

"Please make sure he doesn't throw up inside" was the only thing he said and then drove in complete silence until you arrived to his building. When you paid the driver didn't look at you twice before he left you behind with the tall boy hugging your side and smelling your hair, you saw the yellow color of the cab far away and thought one last time to leave him and go home, but he was so happy next to you, giggling whenever your eyes met his, that you decided to see what were his intentions. After all, they said drunk people and kids never lied.

"Tell me the truth, what did you plan to do to me? And don't you dare lie Lee Chanyoung" you looked up to him, finding his eyes under the limp lights of his place. The shadow of the light above him made his face darker, his fingers played with yours and before he could talk, he stumbled over one of the numerous pairs of shoes on the floor, pushing you to the wall behind you with his whole body but not letting the impact affect you, quickly putting a hand behind your head and the other on your waist.

Almost embracing you, he stayed there, and closing his eyes, his nose breathed in the aroma of your hair again, "I-I wanted... I just wanted to take care of you, I wasn't gonna do anything, I just wanted you to depend on me once" he confessed in a whisper, but you couldn't believe him, just take care of you? How could he even try to put you in such helpless position? What if his or anyone else’s intentions were different? He couldn't even stop himself now, pressing your body with his and taking in all the sensations he could steal from you without taking off your clothes.

You tried to push him away but he was too heavy for you, so you only pressed your hands on his shoulders, almost clawing your fingers over the navy knitted cardigan he started to wear after you said it was your favorite color by mistake, "I can't believe you Anton, and why like this? Why couldn't you do it differently? Why would you want to do such a cheap move? You have no idea in what danger you could’ve put me through."

When you said his name some of his senses came back to him, he left a few inches of space between you two and a sad frown appeared on his pretty face, bringing the boy you used to know back, showing how sorry he was for overstepping into your precious space.

"I-I don't know, I just wanted to show you that you also can lean on me, I thought that it was impossible for you to let me get closer, you never let anyone learn more about you, you push everyone away and only talk about work stuff... I know I don't deserve you, but I wanted you, I want you, I want you all for me and I want to be the only one for you, I didn't know what else to do."

His tears started to drop one by one while he talked, his hand searching for you again but not daring to touch you afraid of disgusting you more after showing how wretched he really was.

You made him look into your eyes before he talked again, "It's the first time you do this?" You asked, holding his cheeks and cleaning the tears that slid down.

"Of course it is" he grasped his hands over yours, asking for compassion from you, his eyes almost looked honest, and after you nodded, accepting his words, he went and pressed his forehead in the space of your neck, getting dizzy with the smell of your perfume and all the alcohol that stayed in both of you after your dinner not long ago, "I've never wanted someone this much before... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried it, but you're just so high up there, you looked unreachable" his hands moved to your hips, you hugged his neck and let him get wasted with your presence, he used more strength into his grasp and you felt his fingers painfully try to penetrate your clothes and touch your skin, but instead of telling him to stop you opened your legs to receive him, "...and I felt unworthy of you, I know I am, but please, let me show you how useful I could be, how much I can serve you"

You felt his boner under his fitted grey pants, it tried to sink into you under all his layers, but it couldn't even reach you thanks to your skirt limiting his movements.

He didn't wait long thought, this Anton had no patience at all, and he hastily lifted your skirt almost all the way up, his nails scratching your tights and running them instead of carefully taking the nylon fabric off like you usually did.

"I'm sorry" he apologized still on your neck, rutting his member into your now visible black underwear. He caught a glimpse of them, they weren’t your prettiest pair, rather simple and bland, but he still was awed by them and how they covered what he had imagined so many nights before, and soon he was rutting against them again, ‘’I’m so sorry’’, he was ashamed of how much he ached for you.

"It's okay Anton, you don't have to apologize anymore" your fingers hooked on his long hair, strings of it settling under your grip, and trying to calm down the rush he was in, you murmured that sentence softly next to his ear. You could hear his heart beating inside his chest and he gulped loudly after you called his name with so much tenderness.

"I'm sorry" he repeated, feeling so undeserving of the benevolence you were gifting him, you always did so much for him, you weren't afraid of giving him all your knowledge at work, you defended him whenever he made a mistake and others tried to make him feel beneath them, judging his inexperience as a lack of intelligence, you were the most merciful person he had ever met, forgiving even the repugnant intentions he had tonight.

He pressed his lips on your throat, trying to claim possession over you, he was never going to let anyone else take you from him, he had been feeling desperate those days after one of your coworkers had gotten closer to you, he couldn't help but follow you with his eyes whenever you walked around, and recently, if he wasn't next to you, that guy would be on your side, setting off an alarm inside his head.

It was unusual to see anyone other than him treat you with the respect you deserved, Anton didn't understand why almost everyone hated you, but they did. You always did your best and outperformed your tasks, if the boss said he wanted you to finish a report for next week you'd have it ready in three days, if others asked you for a favor you'd immediately accept and leave your own work aside to help them, if an emergency appeared you'd instantly share solutions, you were the best employee and coworker anyone could wish, and they still treated you like a plague, sending you to meaningless errands and giving you the problematic clients.

His leather belt pushed up your blouse, and the buckle hooked with the silky fabric, scraping it and slightly hurting your skin in the process. "Wait- Anton" you tried to stop him from tearing up your favorite blouse but his mind was too hazy to hear you, humping his erection on your panties with his brutal force, you couldn't do anything to stop him.

When you were at work he didn't dare to ask for a single thing from you, not even a glass of water, when you offered to buy his coffee he shyly rejected you, trying to buy you one instead, but now with the little help of the alcohol he showed his true colors, that greedy side that wasn't scared of demanding what he wanted from you and taking it before you could give him permission.

He kept apologizing between thrusts, you felt your panties get wet with your arousal and his tip clumsily striking your clit, although it felt good, you weren't sure how much of it your poor clothes could take, so you decided to do what you had to do for him to cease.

"Anton, can you touch me here?" You asked, moving his hands to your chest and letting him knead your skin under your cups. He eagerly nodded, finally directing his attention to another thing that wasn't the pleasure your cunt gave him.

He didn't waste any time taking your blouse off, he did it with such an urge he didn't care your cuffs were still buttoned and that your hair ended like a mess after he pulled it over your head, his hands searched for the back of your bra and tossed it aside the minute he deciphered how to unhook it.

He admired you for a good minute, your skin reflected the light the two of you were under and when you tried to fix your hair he saw your chest moving in unison with your hands, the creamy flesh called for him to take a bite and he immediately indulged himself on it, so soft under his mouth his eyes almost rolled back and his cock sent an agonizing throb to the pitch of his abdomen, needing to sink into you as soon as he could, he moaned of satisfaction.

You liked the sensation of his mouth and his hands over your buds, but it was obvious not as much as him, he seemed to be desperate to get more of you, his teeth would find your nipples and slightly bite them to then follow with his tongue caressing the same spots, like a soothe after the affliction, pressing the flat of his tongue again and again.

He stayed like that for a long time, admiring your chest with devotion in an uncomfortable position, since you took off your high heels he was even taller now, and his whole upper body was bending to meet your chest. You tried to help him a little and stay on your tip toes but the stir he caused on your insides didn't let you think much about it, only passing your fingers over his hair and closing your eyes to not get lost in the sight of the big, gorgeous boy obsessed with you.

He ran one of his hands from your chest to your mound, and before you could tell him to not go so far, limits unclear between you two in that moment, and your mind repeating how it wasn't okay, he sneaked it inside your underwear and immediately found your clit with his fingers, pressing his wrist with enough delicacy and strength to push your ass to the wall and circle the little nerve at the same time. Still, your mind couldn't stop the thoughts, he was too drunk and you were in charge of him, you as the senior between had to put a stop before the two of you made a mistake, because that's what you were making, an enormous mistake that you wouldn't know how to fix.

You could fix almost everything, you never stopped if an obstacle presented, you handled the worst clients with grace and easily solved emergencies, but you had realized that people weren't as easy as you thought, giving them what they wanted wasn't necessarily always the answer, sometimes you had to give them what they needed it even if they didn't like the result, and right there what Anton needed was a mature adult telling him to stop and to reflect on his actions that day, because what he did was completely wrong, and you shouldn't condone his actions letting him take what he wanted from you without consequences.

This was real life, and the real world wasn’t as forgiving as you.

But fuck it felt good, and you were just human too, to have someone show so much adoration towards you made you weak, because you were used to giving everything of you, and it was the first time you met someone willing to do the same with you.

His mouth left your chest and went up to your neck, leaving marks that would show the next day and you'd have to hide before work with makeup, you were trying to remember if you had your pouch in your bag when his finger slipped inside you, making you whimper of surprise while he chuckled on your neck. He started with just his middle finger, testing how much he could push you. Your slick made everything so easy for him he thought about just putting it in, you were so ready you'd take him without problem and he couldn't wait for you to drip all over his cock, which was throbbing inside his boxers with each thought.

However, there was something he needed even more before he did that, he went to his knees and slid down your panties and the ruined pantyhose, admiring the naked skin of your thighs that slowly showed up in front of him, "please spread your legs" he asked, grabbing your creamy thighs and loving the way your flesh melted under his grip. Your plumpness somehow comforted him, and he gave a small pampering peck to each thigh before he pressed his lips over your tummy, making you open to him and his care, allowing yourself to enjoy his treatment for just a second, like you told yourself in your head, it would be just a second. No one had been so sweet, even if sometimes rough, with you, and you felt yourself falling deeper into his void, too swayed to deny him anything when he spoiled you like that.

He started with slow licks, making out with your clit and pushing your legs open with his hands. Your hips bucked into his face, and with eyes close with force, your palms tried to hold you against the wall, the torture of his tongue lapping your wetness making you tremble in your place.

More than groans, you heard whimpers and moans coming from his mouth, sobering thanks to your juices but not in his right mind still, he had more control over himself, but that only meant he was more conscious of his leaking dick needing you, and how painfully untouched he had been all the time he was next to you, craving for your attention on him and only him.

You pulled his hair with force when his tongue started to poke your entrance and his nose buried in your lips, you couldn't bear with the overwhelming feeling and pushed him away, a bit afraid of hurting him but not able to consider before doing it. He looked up to you, scared of being too much for you, but he couldn't contain himself, he wanted all of you. "That's enough Anton", he shook his head in disagreement, it wasn't even close to satisfy his thirst, and with your hands hurting his scalp he dived in again, with more eagerness and decision, he drank you until you finished pouring everything out, your moans like music to his ears, he wanted to receive anything you had to give him.

When your legs stopped trembling beside his head, he finally stood up again, staring down at your crumbled body, he helped you stay on your feet with a smile. When you looked up to him you saw his shinny face, all the way from the tip of his nose to his chin, and he wasn't ashamed of disgusted with your fluids all over his face, he even seemed elated to have your mess there, making you feel guilty of being so weak against pleasure.

You couldn't believe what just happened, you let him touch you, and you felt disturbed with your lack of willpower to put a stop to what was happening in the youngest's apartment.

"I should go" you thought loudly. He panicked and grabbed your face with both hands just like you had done before when he was spiraling in his drunken state.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, caressing your red cheeks and watching your teary eyes, his heart wrenching inside his chest with the idea of having hurt you, he hadn't meant to, he knew he was being greedy, he had tried to do something terrible to you before he came back to his senses, but he was just terrified of losing you, and now it seemed the same thing was about to happen, so close to him and your mind still trying to run away.

"I shouldn't do this Anton, you don't even have a steady position in the company, I'm older, I'm your superior, and what you did was so wrong, but I should be the mature person here and put a stop to it, yet I'm here just accepting you, it's so fucking sick what we're doing" your tears were streaming down and he felt bad for having put you in such a difficult position.

"I'm sorry, I'll always be sorry for what I tried to do today, I don't know what went through my mind, but please don't torment yourself, you didn't do anything wrong, it's all on me, I'm the one who's sick, just be angry with me, I can take it, but what I can't take is you in pain, please forgive me" he started shedding tears too, fat tears escaping his eyes with a concerned expression.

His shoulders were trembling with his sobs and you felt a revolting feeling in your stomach, a nauseous sensation mixed with sorrow and guilt.

"Let's forget this happened Anton, this never happened, okay?" You tried to convince him but he denied, he didn't want to pretend anything, he couldn't lose you like that, having you so close, his dream was no longer to have a good job and a normal life, nothing of that mattered if you weren't by his side, his goal had changed from serving society to serving you, and he couldn't just yield like that. "While I'm here, I'm no longer your superior, I'm no longer your coworker, we're just two people together, two people that are meeting for the first time, okay?"

His world suddenly was illuminated by your grace again, exhilarating in joy, he nodded until his cries stopped, kissing both your hands with adoration, swearing inside his mind to never hurt you like that ever again, and that the only tears he could ever let come from your eyes would be of pleasure and happiness. "Thank you, thank you" he repeated with every kiss on your knuckles and then over the back of both your hands. He had taken a liking to kissing every spot of your body, and he was hoping to soon have you over his bedsheets to adore you even more.

But for now, he picked up where he left, he went to your lips and kissed you with his whole sincerity, crushing your mouth with his. His kiss was breathtaking, making you dizzy but finally relieved of finding an answer to the problem there, even if it had to do with you forgiving him and forgetting what the two of you were outside that apartment, you could take it, because it wasn't what any of you wanted, but what both of you needed.

"Can I put it in?" He asked and you nodded. He, in his euphoria, pulled down his pants and his underwear to let his length free. He was so excited he lifted you with his arms without showing any struggle and then pressed his tip over your entrance, letting your body fall and take him with a single motion.

You tried to get him back in his senses scratching his shoulder blade "Anton-" every thrust of his hips would push the next word back into your throat, and talking between moans it took you a while to say, "I'm too heavy... Put me down", you cried when his pelvis instead of stopping moved harder against you, the clasp of skins echoing around you two and making you the drunk one now.

He denied, "it's okay, I can do it" he continued, you felt your tears dropping and falling over his skin, the intensity of your insides being demolished so easily by the young one left you under his mercy, taking it and hoping you wouldn't get addicted to a pleasure like that one so fast.

He stopped for a second, lifting you even more with his arms, making you bounce and accommodating you against the smooth surface of his wall, strong arms holding both your trembling legs and hard breathing next to your ear, you couldn't hear exactly what he whispered when his cock stayed inside and throbbed, your cries were louder than you expected when he started his pace again and you could only understand something along the lines so gorgeous, but you didn't know if you heard him right or not so you didn't answer, concentrating all your thoughts into holding yourself around his neck to not fall. His shaft punched exactly a spot that made your eyes flutter and you sobbed when he ruthlessly kept striking it, he only needed to hear your first moan to know what he had just found, "feels good?" He asked and kissed your neck. You cried an affirmation in response, a yes so broken he felt proud of himself for making you feel that good, not daring to stop his movements, with the only purpose of comforting you like he had been wishing for so long when the people in the office shoot daggers at you regardless of what you did. If you were good no one would praise you, if you praised others they would say you weren't honest, and he was sure that, if you ever did a mistake, everyone would condemn you, and every time that happened he just wanted to grab your hand and tell you I'm right here, doing whatever he could to help you think about something else while giving you all the praises he wished he could say out loud. "You deserve it, you deserve it all" his lips found yours and feeling your insides tightening around him he messily fucked you with everything he had, making you hop over his length while the back of your thighs slapped his skin. When you were cumming you bit his shoulder and he hissed of pain but continued with his motion and came with much pleasure inside you a couple of thrusts later, gladly letting you hurt him if you needed to, because for him you could do whatever you wanted with his body, and he would always forgive you, just like you forgave him moments ago, teaching him how even an inferior being like him could earn your mercy, so why would such a kind existence not deserve it back? He would praise you and adore you as much as you required, and he'd teach you how to accept him without doubt ever again.

#riize x plus size reader #riize smut #anton smut #riize x reader #anton x reader

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (9)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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He woke up feeling such a terrible pain in his head and throughout his body that he wondered if he was just dying. He lifted his eyelid with difficulty, feeling the sunlight streaming into his chamber, burning his face, everything around him was spinning slightly, his image blurred.

He was completely alone.

He swallowed loudly at the mere memory of the crazy fantasies that he had dreamt through the night.

That his wife's sister had come to him to suck his cock.

That his mother had come to him, but when he woke, it was not she who embraced him.

It was his wife.

He stared at her then in disbelief, terrified, angry, and thirsty all at once, still completely drunk.

He simply threw himself on the bed with her and fucked her.

In this dream, however, she wasn't lying beneath him frightened, waiting for his orders. She was kissing him greedily, her soft, warm hands all over his body, her sweet voice struggling to say his name each time the thrust of his hips open her wide on his cock.

He asked her to stop, sensing that she was arousing something in him that he didn't want to feel.

The hot sensation that was spilling over his chest.

He felt embarrassed that he could behave like that in front of a woman in such an intimate moment, to show his weakness, his helplessness and suffering that no one but him had access to.

He squeezed his eye shut, sighing quietly.

It was only a dream.

He rose slowly and only then realised, surprised, that he was not wearing his shirt. He glanced down and saw that his breeches were untied, his heart in his throat, pounding in his chest so hard as if it was about to tear him apart.

No.

He stood up, walking over to his chair and saw that there was bedding lying on it, which he was sure that he hadn't brought there, next to him on the small table stood an empty cup and jug. He squeezed his eye shut, trying to breathe calmly, covered his face with his hands and knelt down, trying with all his might not to scream.

No. No. No.

FUCK!

He thought with bitter anger that she would surely tell this story at court, that she would brag to the other ladies how she had seduced the crippled One-Eyed Prince, how she had listened to him cry for his mother, how he had even begged her when he came inside her.

That he was pathetic.

That he was not a man, but a boy.

A child.

He decided that he would not speak to her, would not summon her to him this night, or any night in the future, until he was sure she was still bleeding.

He would not trust her.

He ate his morning meal alone, devastated, bitter and disappointed with his attitude. He thought that it was pathetic for any young woman to be able to bring him to such a state after two nights and decided that he needed to start controlling himself.

How he was perceived was more important to him than his own pleasure.

What he feared the most was that she would come to him, that she would ask questions, thinking that he wanted to answer her.

That they would now be friends, whispering sweetly their secrets in each other's ears, cuddling tenderly at bedtime.

He felt sick at the thought and put the rest of the grapes that he had just eaten back on his plate.

She did not visit him that day, or any day after.

She bid farewell to her family in his company, but they did not say a word to each other; he saw that she glanced at him, but he did not reciprocate her look.

He stared murderously at her sister, Floris, thinking that if it hadn't been for her and her stupid idea, nothing would have happened. He pressed his lips together at the sight of her brother, kissing her forehead again.

Even though she didn't reciprocate his affectionate touch, all tense, knowing that he was watching them, he felt furious anyway.

As her loved ones set off in their retinue, he turned away and returned to his chamber, paying no attention to her.

From then on, for several days, apart from polite courtesies at the supper in the presence of his family, they did not exchange a word with each other. His wife didn't seem to mind; she spoke a lot with his sister, Helaena, and it was to her that she paid the most attention.

He tried to see a twitch of amusement or pity in her eyes, evidence that deep down she was mocking him, but he saw nothing of the sort and was frustrated by this fact.

He wanted to classify her unequivocally, but he couldn't.

She never did what he would have expected her to do, and this made him feel miserable in her company.

He was exerting himself more than usual during his morning training sessions with Ser Criston Cole. They always practised at sunrise, when only servants walked around, because he was frustrated by the constant stares of the onlookers, their eternal assessment of his behaviour and movements.

It made it impossible for him to concentrate.

However, he could not hide his surprise when his wife came out to them one day when they were just beginning their warm-up in the empty courtyard.

What immediately caught his attention was that she was wearing something completely different from her usual attire.

Just as she had been when he had first seen her in Storm's End.

She was dressed in a tight, embroidered corset, hugging her waist wonderfully, with a buff, linen shirt underneath and well-fitting black breeches on her legs, her hair combed into braid.

She bowed to him and moved on, ignoring the involuntary stares from him and Criston.

He felt frustration at the thought that she was up to something again.

He watched her carefully as she approached a wooden table on which various melee weapons lay. She leaned over him and began to pick up swords of various lengths, as if she was checking something, he chuckled low under his breath, shaking his head impatiently, turning the hilt of his sword in his hand.

"Can I help you with something, my lady?" Criston Cole asked, slightly amused and intrigued, clearly wanting to understand what she was doing.

His wife looked a them surprised, she held in her hands a sword shorter and smaller than his, designed for fighting for younger boys.

"No need, Ser Criston." She said lightly and turned the sword several times in her hand with a lightness that left them both stunned. She approached them slowly, an unforced, warm, excited smile on her face.

"May I join you?" She asked cheerfully. He couldn't resist himself and laughed out loud, Cole gave him one reproving look.

"Is this some kind of joke, sweet wife?" He sneered, throwing her an impatient look.

He thought that she wanted to make a fool of him again, to humiliate him also in such a sphere as hand-to-hand combat which was his strongest point, his trump card.

She, however, looked at him surprised and confused, apparently for some reason not expecting such an obvious reaction. She swallowed quietly, casting a pleading glance in Criston's direction. He seemed intrigued.

He rolled his eye, furious, running the blade of his sword across the sand with rage as he began to ask her questions.

"Who taught you to fight, my lady?" He asked, folding his hands behind him, looking at her with a calm smile. She was clearly pleased that his response was different from her husband's.

"My brother and my father." She said with satisfaction.

He threw them a glance over his shoulder and saw that Criston had raised his sword and stepped back, apparently wanting to give her a chance. He pressed his lips together at this sight and wanted to say something on the verge of exploding with fury, but Criston forestalled him.

"Strike me." He said encouragingly.

His wife bent slightly on her feet, stepping half sideways to him and swung, the blade slamming against the blade with a loud clang of steel. Criston deflected her strike with ease.

"Good. Don't stand so stiff on your feets. Again."

His wife immediately applied his advice and began to push against him with a fierceness that apparently surprised Criston himself.

Watching her he thought, frustrated, that she really knew how to wield a sword and although she didn't do it even partly as well as he did, he couldn't help but admit to himself that it was impressive.

He didn't know how he felt about that thought.

"Come here." He commanded, turning his sword impatiently in his hand.

Criston and she stopped, breathing a little faster, heated from the sudden exertion. His wife approached him slowly, scared and curious at the same time.

He thought that he would knock this ideas out of her head, show her what a real duel was, so that she wouldn't think she could match a man.

He threw himself at her suddenly, swinging his sword, and she barely managed to jump away before his cut, surprised. His sword cut the air with such speed that she didn't even have a chance to swing, neither of them having a shield to defend themselves.

He knew that he could cause her harm, but he decided that she wanted it herself.

Their swords finally collided with a loud clunk of steel, she struggled to push him away and swung, cutting with her sword so that now it was he who had to dodge.

He thought with amusement that she knew the basics, but easily forgot the essentials.

He heard her squeak quietly as he suddenly tripped her leg and she fell heavily to the ground, her sword falling out of her hand.

Criston stirred uneasily at this sight but said nothing, all tense.

His wife, however, was not too concerned about the incident. She hissed quietly and rose, brushing off her breeches from the sand and dust, gripping the hilt of her sword again.

He stared at her, thinking that he was losing his patience, fearing that he was about to really do something to her.

He rushed against her again, this time even more aggressively than before, with each clash of their blades their breaths getting faster and louder. He wanted to slash at her again, but this time she jumped back, taking advantage of his inattention, swinging quickly.

Their swords clashed loudly and they wrestled for a moment, but he managed to push her sword away with such force that it fell out of her hand. He grabbed violently by the hair and pulled her close, their faces almost touching, her hot breath and scent teasing his nostrils.

"You like making a spectacle of yourself, don't you?" He hissed, walking with her step by step, forcing her to move backwards. She swallowed loudly, looking at him in shock, breathing heavily.

She said nothing.

He looked at her sweaty skin, hot from exertion, her flushed cheeks, her hair stuck to her face.

She looked exactly as she did when he saw her for the first time.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He muttered with unintentional pain that he tried to hide.

She looked at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, trying to understand him, her lips parted in accelerated breathing, her cheeks pink from exertion.

Or from something else.

He felt his manhood swell slightly in his breeches at the thought.

"Answer me." He growled, clenching his fingers tighter in her hair, impatient, trying to hide his arousal from her and from himself.

He heard how Criston Cole, anxious, wanted to step in already, moving towards them.

"I wanted to spend a little more time with my husband. Forgive me, I'll never do it again." She whispered, lowering her gaze, defeated.

"Stay back." He said coolly to Cole who stopped in mid-step.

He looked at her face, searching for anything that would allow him to conclude that she was lying or pretending, to be exactly like her worthless sisters, but there was something in her gaze, something tender from which he felt a burning sense of shame.

He knew full well that he had been neglecting her for weeks.

He had left her alone in a place completely foreign to her.

She hadn't told anyone about what had happened between them.

She didn't even mention it.

He leaned against her ear, feeling his heart pounding hard.

"Go to my chamber."

He saw her look up at him, terrified and surprised at the same time. He let her go, and she swallowed loudly, moving slowly towards the keep, glancing at him over her shoulder. Criston approached him, looking at him with condemnation.

"Is it appropriate for you to treat your wife so brutally, my prince? It's early, no one saw any of this anyway." He said, but he threw him one furious look.

"Don't try to interfere between me and my wife ever again."

Cole pursed his lips at the tone of his voice, knowing him well, understanding how easy it was to arouse his anger. However, he also knew that properly spoken and chosen arguments could calm him down.

"I've been watching her for a month, my prince. She's a cheerful, wise, bright girl, smart enough not to impose herself on you. Everyone waits patiently only up to a certain point; after that, she will neither fear nor love you. You will be indifferent to her." He said calmly as he ran his fingers through his hair, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"I don't care." He said too angrily and too quickly for Cole to believe him.

He stared at him over his shoulder in fury, his jaw clenched so tight that he thought it would snap.

He hated when Criston lectured him like a child.

He'd told him once not to forget himself, but that didn't deter him.

He couldn't confide in any other man.

He pursed his lips, swallowing softly, turning his sword, its blade resting on the ground, spinning in his hand.

"She's too unpredictable to me." He said finally, looking away in shame. Criston chuckled lightly at his words, which made him look up at him quickly with gaze full of frustration and embarrassment.

"If you wanted a predictable wife, why didn't you pick one of her calm, well-mannered sisters, trained to be everything you desire?" He asked, unable to hide the smirk that appeared on his mouth when he saw the grimace on his face, as if he had caught him in something that he was ashamed of.

He looked down, unsure of what to say, and squeezed his eye shut, letting out a silent curse, clamping his fingers on the base of his nose. Criston sighed, shaking his head.

"I am ready, my prince." He said, turning his sword in his hand, indicating with a nod that they could continue their duel.

He finished his training faster, knowing that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on it anyway.

She jumped up on the bed as he walked into his chamber, clearly terrified that she had upset him again. He looked at her with a blank stare for a moment, wondering if he was sure he wanted to do this.

She tried to do her best to please him, but he was a living fire.

Fire could not be tamed.

"Come with me." He said lowly, turning away, without even looking at her reaction. He heard her move behind him, trying to catch up with him.

He turned into one of the narrow corridors of the fortress, then ran down the stone stairs hearing the sound of her quick footsteps behind him. They walked down until they emerged into cold, chilly cellars, torches lit all around them.

At last they reached the main hall, in the middle of which stood a huge candlestick, on top of which were placed small burning candles, already partially burnt out.

Above them a gigantic, terrifying skull of Balerion.

He looked at her over his shoulder and saw that she was glancing around, shocked.

Apparently this place had made the same impression on her as when his father had first shown it to him.

It was the first and the last time for them to do something together, like father and son.

The king told him of his ancestors, of Balerion, Aegon and his conquests, of old Valyria. He was enthralled, and asked him often to tell him about it again one day, but never afterwards did his father find the time or strength to do so.

From then on, he came here alone.

Although he prayed with his mother in the Great Sept, accompanying her every week, here, in the underground, he prayed for things that he could not entrust to the Seven Gods. He hid these desires from them, this dark, empty side of his heart.

He prayed that his whore half-sister had burned alive in the Vhagar's fire.

He prayed that he could make Luke put out his own eye, to give it as a gift to his mother.

He prayed that Aegon would drown in his own vomit someday.

He prayed that he would become a king.

He could not explain to himself why he had actually taken her there. After she told him that she only wanted to spend time in his presence he realised that he had not allowed her to get to know himself in any way, treating her only as an object to give him an heir.

He felt remorse.

He knew that he had not treated her the way she deserved. For her patience and devotion any other husband would showering her with kisses and flowers, gifts and warm confessions of affection.

But not him.

He knew that he would never be this kind of husband to her.

He wanted to give her something in return, like when his father the king had given him a substitute of fatherhood in that one moment.

He took two candles in his hands and lit them from the already burning flames, then placed them in front of him.

One for him, one for her.

For his wife.

She stood beside him, watching him with fascination, he liked the fact that she didn't ask any questions.

She knew that he had taken her to a place that was sacred to him and she respected that.

"I pray here every day." He said indifferently, pulling out the burnt candles, tossing them into a special basket underneath.

He cared for this place as if he were its priest.

His temple of Fire and Blood.

He saw her look up at him, surprised, for a moment it seemed to him that she was analysing his words.

She stepped around him, walking slowly towards the centre of the hall, raising her head high in the air, as if she wanted to get a closer look at the skull of the largest dragon that had ever walked the earth. He swallowed loudly as she knelt down, placing her hands on her lap and bowed her head humbly.

She was praying.

She was praying in his sanctuary, his most sacred place.

His wife.

He approached her from behind, breathing quietly, feeling her flinch when his hand tightened on her shoulder as he pushed and forced her to lie on the cold stone floor on her back. Her lips parted in shock as his fingers slid down to tying his breeches, he swallowed loudly when she did the same, clearly understanding what he wanted to do.

They both panted loudly as he knelt in front of her, drawing her hips closer to him, pulling the material of her black trousers off her, leaving her ungodly naked from the waist down. He spread the material of his breeches to the sides, releasing his erection, giving himself a few encouraging squeezes at the root, looking at her in disbelief.

What was he doing?

He leaned in at last, placing one of his hands beside her head for balance, the other guiding the fat head of his cock against her tight slit, pushing against her, opening her wide with her moan of exertion. He sighed hearing her whimper as he forced his way into her fleshy, hot interior with an impatient thrust of his hips.

She was wet.

This discovery made him start pounding into her at once, as thirsty as she was after so long of intimate abstinence, their panting and quiet, tentative moans echoing loudly throughout the hall.

"Forgive me." He whispered helplessly, his thrusts greedy, hungry from the lack of their closeness.

He wasn't sure what he was apologising for.

Maybe for taking her in such a place, subjecting her to discomfort, for how he treated her, for his brutality, his ruthlessness, his coldness.

"Forgive me. I can't do it any other way." He panted, speeding up, gripping her hips in his hands, rooting into her with wet slaps of his thighs hitting against her buttocks, feeling like he was about to burst into tears.

He felt weak.

"I know." She whispered tenderly, entwining her hand in his hair, pressing his forehead to hers, brushing her wet, soft lips against his, trailing them over his skin, just as she had then, that night, her hot breath enveloping his face.

He stared at her helplessly, marvelling anew at the warmth of her insides, her tight, fleshy walls that clenched on him again and again, sucking him inside with a loud click of her wetness.

"Forgive me." He almost sobbed, clenching his eyes, trying to catch air in his lungs, feeling as if he was suffocating.

He felt her small hands embrace him, pressing him tighter against her, her fingers clenched on his back, their bodies entwined in a passionate, sticky embrace, the thrusts of his hips slamming into her quickly and brutally with lewd slaps.

"Just fill me, my sweet husband." She hummed into his ear and he let out a deep, low, helpless groan, her words surging through him like a wave, making him come hard inside her, hearing and seeing nothing for a moment, submerged in his own, almost painful pleasure.

He felt her core clench on his cock in fulfillment as he rocked his hips inside her for a moment longer, they were both panting loudly, pressed against each other.

He thought despairingly that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't take it anymore.

He snuggled his face into her neck and let the tears run down his cheek; he made no sound, his body convulsed, trying to find an outlet for his emotions, his frustration, his fear, his loneliness. She felt, terrified, that something was happening to him, his warm moisture run down the skin of her neck.

She stroked his hair, embracing him with her arms, saying nothing, terrified of his condition.

He felt as if something inside him had died.

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umbrify · 10 months

Note

hello i saw u tagged jimmy solidarity on that "free my man he did none of that. he did a bunch of other shit though" post and i am incredibly compelled by the implications here. please may i have an essay on the subject

YOU MAY.

Okay so we’re gonna be specifically talking about Empires SMP Season 2 Jimmy (henceforth, Jimmy,) and the way he conducts himself, how those actions reflect on him, versus how he sees himself (and how the fandom sees him in turn). Welcome to my Ted Talk.

The most important thing to understand about Jimmy is that he lies. He lies about everything, and convinces himself that his lie is true to the point where he really thinks it is. Take, for example, a moment in Sausage’s episode 41 [full exchange from 9:10 - 19:37] where Jimmy kills Sausage, and then when Sausage, followed by fWhip, return to Tumble Town to discuss the murder, Jimmy blatantly lies about the altercation to fWhip, claiming “[Sausage] came over, and he assaulted me, fWhip!” Jimmy insists that it was Sausage who physically started it, despite that being completely untrue. Jimmy then goes on to deny having killed Sausage Sausage at all, sounding affronted at the idea and demanding to see the player head that drops on death. fWhip asks how many levels Sausage has, which is none, and Jimmy claims that Sausage must have used all his experience. Jimmy denies and lies, and when fWhip goes looking for Sausage’s things, finding them in Jimmy’s storage, Jimmy acts shocked, saying “I think I’m being set up! […] I’m gonna leave this conversation, you do what you gotta do, but I don’t think I’m the bad guy here.” As if Jimmy didn’t explicitly kill Sausage moments ago!! As if it isn’t his fault!!!

And the problem here, the core problem, is that so many people just… believe him. They take Jimmy’s words at face value and assume that he’s always a reliable narrator in his own stories, despite the fact that it couldn’t be further from the case. The issue is less that people assign New and Different problems to Jimmy, more that they strip him of any wrongdoing at all, making him out to be some sad little pathetic wet cat who didn’t deserve it. And— don’t get me wrong, he is extremely sad, but he also did it to himself.

I think one of the more interesting ways to illustrate this, is to talk about the way Jimmy perceives himself. From the start of the season, he always insists on being called “The Sheriff.” He’s not Jimmy, he’s The Sheriff, and throughout the season, he can be seen constantly insisting upon and chasing after that title. He wants respect— or, his version of respect. What he really wants is a yes man. This difference can very clearly be seen in the way he treats the two deputies he had throughout the season.

When fWhip was the deputy, it’s because he wanted to be. He sought Jimmy out because he wanted to be Jimmy’s right hand man, and Jimmy let him. fWhip consistently referred to Jimmy as The Sheriff, upholding Jimmy’s version of the laws as best he could. And, there really is something to be said about the fact that fWhip, as a goblin, inherently didn’t understand the concept of arbitrary laws, or that sort of morality at all, and was only one, upholding it because he cared about Jimmy, but two, treating the laws as Jimmy treated them— i.e, making a shrine for that which Jimmy made a church for, but that’s a whole separate essay that I want to write at some point. Either way, he was good to Jimmy, though their time together was short. He made Jimmy a home away from home in Gobland [fWhip episode 8 timestamp 20:28] and helped Jimmy win the court trial by serving as his lawyer in the case against Joel [Trial best seen in Jimmy’s episode 10 starts at 3:03]. After fWhip was fired, he went around Tumble Town noting down a bunch of “laws” that Jimmy was breaking. I wrote a whole post about this set of interactions already [here] but the short version is this: In fWhip’s episode 12 [5:54], he goes around and marks down all the laws that he’s saying Jimmy is breaking around Tumble Town. […] Of the seven instances that fWhip writes down, SIX of them almost directly relate to Jimmy not taking good care of himself or his empire. To me, it almost reads more like he cares about Jimmy, and is worried about him.

All this to say, that fWhip didn’t Respect The Sheriff as much as he Cared About Jimmy. And that’s an important distinction— he cared about Jimmy, the person. He had this whole veneer of respecting the laws— laws that he didn’t really understand— because he cared about Jimmy. And Jimmy fired him for a prank— one that wasn’t specifically targeted or malicious— because he saw that as Disrespecting The Sheriff. He didn’t want someone who Cared About Jimmy, he wanted someone who Respected The Sheriff. And fWhip wasn’t that.

Enter Scar.

During the Hermitcraft crossover, Scar started gunning for the position as deputy because he wanted the shiny deputy badge. That was it, that was the reason, and Scar acted accordingly. Everything was about acting like he Respected The Sheriff, even when he was blatantly breaking one of the core laws, wearing another player’s hat— both the sheriff hat [Jimmy episode 19 4:07] as well as trading away a sheriff hat, and being seen wearing one of Scott’s Chromia hats [Jimmy episode 22 14:27]. In this episode, Scar backhandedly compliments Jimmy, “oh, you’re just a… cute big guy, aren’t you?” to which Jimmy seems uncertain, asking “I’m real big, right?” to which Scar says he is. Jimmy then asks him about the Chromia hat Scar wears, and Scar tells him that he traded one of the sheriff hats to Scott. Jimmy gets upset at Scar, but before he can get properly mad, Scar distracts him by showing off a new section of Tumble Town that he made. Scar wears the mask of respect for just long enough to get the badge. When Jimmy gives him the badge, he says he has something else that he wants to give Scar as well. “I have found something real special for you, real special.” Scar says “I already got something special, this badge.” Jimmy says “you mean our friendship?” Which Scar dubiously agrees to. This is the last time Jimmy sees Scar before the hermits leave— Scar got what he wanted, and that was all. And yet, Jimmy hired him, because Scar put on the show. Scar was his yes man, Scar Respected The Sheriff, even if he didn’t Care About Jimmy.

He does it to himself, Jimmy does. He pushes away anyone that tries to care about him as a person, and surrounds himself with people that will be his yes men, his little sidekicks, anyone that holds the sheriff title in high regard. It’s why he takes so well to the Old Sheriff, who treats the sheriff title with the same reverence that he does, respecting the title of sheriff without actually respecting Jimmy much at all.

The thing about Jimmy is that he causes his own problems, and they’re all his fault. Yes he is crushingly lonely, and filled with self hatred, but he actively surrounds himself with it. It’s not that people are just inherently mean to him, he is almost asking them to be, by pushing away anyone that seems to care about him as a person.

I think, as my final note here, I wanna bring up a moment from Jimmy’s finale, episode 38. He and the Old sheriff, as they’re making their way to the Nether portal, discuss how fWhip only ever referred to himself as goblin fWhip, never as king. Jimmy says “I don’t think he ever held himself to the regard of being a king, and that— d’you know what? That sucks. He was my deputy for a while, he didn’t really think much of himself, I’m not gonna lie” [9:19]. I just find it interesting, that Jimmy says that it sucks how fWhip never called himself king— a title ostensibly higher than sheriff— and that fWhip was only a deputy. As if he thinks that fWhip could’ve been king, perhaps was worthy of the title, and just never took it— that he sees the taking of a title such as that to be so important, when for fWhip, it never was. I dunno, I just think there’s something to that. I think it says something about Jimmy and about the importance he places on titles that don’t really matter.

Jimmy ran away, in the end. He and the Old Sheriff ran far away from everything they ever knew. fWhip stayed, choosing to live out his days happily in the empire he helped to found. fWhip never took the title of king. Jimmy thinks he should’ve.

Isn’t that something?

#umbrify answers #ilexdiapason #thank you so much for this ask. i spent 3 hours drafting this response #I love empires. btw.#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #empires jimmy

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risuola · 7 months

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I LOVE THE WAY IT HURTS — F. READER x FUSHIGURO TOJI, who adores the way your long nails break through his skin

One thing you learned during your long-term affair with Toji is that he perceives pain as something arousing. The adrenaline rush of stinging sensation, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue – those things send signals straight to his cock. You, on the other hand, are more than happy to scratch his body red.

cw: smut, marking, scratching, biting, pussy eating, handjob, blood kink if you squint, bruises, brief aftercare, reader discretion is advised — 2,5k words

masterlist

Filthy. That’s what you’d call your relationship with Toji. You were not together and frankly, you really didn’t know all that much about him. Apart from his body, of course, but thing with Toji is – his body is already a lot. You began hooking up with him long time ago, it will be two years now, and for the first time it happened accidentally, really. You were once out in a club, he was there too and whilst both being drunk you ended up in a motel, fucking the alcohol out of your systems and turned out, it was absolutely amazing, so you kept meeting up.

If someone saw you with him, they would absolutely consider you insane, and you wouldn’t exactly try to prove them any wrong. You just looked funny next to Fushiguro – a man over 6 foot tall and nothing but raw, hard muscle. His body sculpted to perfection, impressively muscular held just as much power as it looked like; a stature of a greek god next to you looked just giant. Sometimes you wondered if you’d survive if he once decided to really go rough on you and although the thought was tempting, you were not brave enough to provoke him to this point.

Your petite size, compared to him, was one of Toji’s favorite things in you. There was never that much talking about your personal lives during your sex meetings, your affair was purely based on physical touch and chasing highs, so he was always hyperfocused on everything revolving around your body, your looks, the sounds you made. The way he was able to bend and break you with ease, man handling you however he pleased always turned him on at the very thought of it, but there was one thing, that made his dick hard even quicker. It was all of the marks you were leaving on him.

Just like right now. Your nails were digging into his broad shoulders, leaving long, angry red marks all over his skin while he was above you; his large form completely overpowering you with every harsh, ruthless thrust his hips were aiming at your soaked pussy. The grip you had on him, one that was meant to stabilize you underneath the sheer strength of his pistons, was hard enough to bruise as your fingertips dug into his flesh with everything you had in your sore muscles. You couldn’t think clearly, you couldn’t think at all to be honest, there were just white spots of pleasure disrupting the godly sight of him above you and what was racing inside your veins definitely wasn’t blood at this point – it was pure ecstasy and adrenaline. You were moaning pathetically every time he buried his teeth into your soft tissues, leaving red signatures of himself wherever he felt like it, and he sucked some spots onto your plush skin, further making a point of you being his own, even if that was only for that night, until he’ll have you again next time.

Toji was a lot to take but the struggle tasted so sweet. He was big, way too big for you to fit, but you wanted him anyway, and every time he was stretching you so impossibly pushing his girth into you felt like that was it, like that was the time when he finally rips you in half. He often praised you, although there was a thick underlining of mocking in the way words were slipping over his tongue – he was telling you how well your little pussy takes him and how it’ll never learn his size.

“Fuck, you’re always so fucking tight,” he groaned from his place on top of you, pressing your thighs to your chest and sucking a red spot to your calf to ground himself from the sensation of your walls squeezing the life out of him. He kept you folded in half with your legs over his muscular shoulders and your hips angled in a way that gave him way too much freedom in ruining you time after time. All of his length was rolling in and out of you from the tip to the very bottom with every slam of his pelvis; he was hitting all of the sweet spots inside your velvety walls each time he dragged himself out and pushed back in. His heavy balls, full for the second time were hitting your ass; the slapping sound completing the already playing melody of heavy pants, loud growls and moans and absolute, wet filth that was happening between your legs.

“T-toji–“ you gasped, squeezing his biceps even harder, feeling a thread inside your stomach dangerously close to snapping. Searing heat was rushing through your entire body, a flood of hot lava washing over you as your brain was slowly turning into an incoherent flurry. You felt your third orgasm pooling low below your belly, it was already in the process of overtaking you, it was too much, he was too much and yet, you couldn’t get enough of him. Every time you met with him, you were utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the act, but then, it was leaving you with hunger for the next time. The marks that your body wore for days after him made sure you couldn’t forget about him too quickly, some of the bruises even saw him twice.

Fushiguro grinned, taking full advantage of his strong body and quickly switching positions. He was now kneeling, his thighs spread apart as he was keeping you up on his cock, your knees still securely hooked over his shoulders. You held onto him for dear life as he made you bounce on him with ease as if you weighted nothing more than a feather. The impact of every move made you see stars, you were lost in him, your mind threatening to never get back from the place of absolute lust and pleasure.

“Gonna take my load like a good girl, yeah?”, he groaned, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. A sound absolutely stripped of any meaning left your throat, a whiny confirmation of your neediness as you grabbed a handful of his black, soft hair. Toji pushed into you few times more, spiraling into his own release and his mind went blank for a moment when the metallic taste of blood spread over his tongue – a crimson evidence of how harshly he bit down onto your lower lip, drawing red from it.

Your legs fell down from his shoulders and you grabbed onto the man tightly. The warmth overflowed you as soon as it was sprayed over your squelching walls, droplets of white hot running down your thighs and to the base of Toji’s cock, connecting with the creamy ring you left on him. His skin was covered in red long scratch marks, a sting already evident but it did nothing but arouse him even more.

You’ve known Fushiguro long enough to know he found a lot of pleasure in pain. Every bite or slash you left on him he took as a prize, it drove him insane. He loved the taste of your blood, the sweet iron melting over his tongue like the most luxurious candy and he loved the taste of you. He loved it to the point it wasn’t a surprise that once you were back on the bed, he was already down, tracing wet kisses along your stomach and straight between your legs.

Your body shivered; sharp jolts of electricity shot from your core as Toji’s tongue pressed flat over your oversensitive, still throbbing clit. You cried out his name, grabbing a handful of his dark locks but instead of pushing him away, your hands pulled him closer and there was no need to invite him further. Your thighs squeezed his head harshly as he was eating you out like it was the first meal he’s got in his life, slurping on the filthy mixture of your juices and his seed, licking and sucking at your swollen tissues and rendering you absolutely unable of any brain functions.

Toji’s strong arm kept your legs open, he was purring into your pussy, quickly getting drunk by the sweet, addictive taste of you. You were his favorite girl, his one and only affair and not because he was so faithful to you. No one could even compare to the way you took him, to the way you perfectly pleased his taste buds, to what you were doing to his own body. He was a lot but you wanted it all.

“Oh my god–“ you whined, cumming all over again, for the nth time feeling your body fall apart underneath his touch and Toji took everything you had like he needed it to stay alive. Sloppily he was licking you through your high, absorbing the heavy trembling of your thighs against his head, the clenching of your hole over his tongue, the jumpiness that resulted from absolute overstimulation.

Satisfied, Fushiguro fell onto the bed next to you, and even out of breath, you were automatically drawn to him, finding your place next to his broad, spotted by countless hickeys chest. He pulled you closer, kissing your lips with hunger and you melted into him; your tongue immediately engaging in a fiery tango with his own. The mixture of tastes made you whimper and although you were sore and exhausted, you still wanted to please him.

Toji purred into the kiss, feeling your warm hand wrapping around his shaft; your dainty fingers barely enveloping his girth, but the way you pumped him was expert. You knew him long enough to know everything that brings him to the edge of pleasure, you were able to render that tower of a man into a moaning mess just with your hands and you loved to abuse that power, because usually it was you who was lost in the feeling to the point of losing the ability of forming words.

You moved your lips lower, peppering the kisses all over his neck and chest, while working your hand up and down his length. You listened to his breath hissing every time you twisted your grip around him, quickly making him rock hard once again and flexing in your grasp. His large hand smoothed over your head and back, sending shivers through your body as he run his fingers down your spine.

“Just like that,” he breathed out; his cock leaking already, reddened tip glistening with white and you picked up the pace a little bit. You could hear how his heart was racing below his ribcage, how his breath became uneven, and you could see how his rock-hard abs were flexing. Every time your nails grazed along the very prominent veins that run along his cock, low, gravelly groans were escaping his throat.

When he cummed, just slightly shaking underneath you, you smiled in victory – satisfied by your achievement of making him so pliable even if just for a moment. The white, hot seed spread over your hand and you raised your head up from his chest, lowering yourself enough to finish the job with your mouth. Slowly pumping him through his high, you licked everything he gave clean, murmuring softly at the salty taste spreading over your mouth.

After that, you two finally were meaning to rest. Buried in his strong body, you allowed your muscles to relax underneath the gentle swipes of his hand over your arm and back. He traced the shapes only he knew what meant all over your delicate skin and you hid into him completely, shamelessly stealing his warmth, trying to force away the thoughts of how it would be to have the entirety of him, not only his body from time to time. You knew him for so long and yet you had no idea who he was as a human – you never really shared much about your personal lives. Was he in relationship and had a child? You had no idea. He might have as well be a paid assassin and you wouldn’t tell, but sometimes you wished to know more about him.

Sometimes visions of just sharing lunch with him invaded your mind. You wanted to cook his favorite meals for him and give him back massages when he overworks himself at the gym. You wanted to brush his hair with your fingers just casually, not only when you have his head between your thighs. You sometimes wondered if that would be too out of place for you to initiate any kind of non-sexual activity with him. You had no idea and no wish to test it out. That day was odd enough, because usually you would just set up a date and time and just meet to fuck. But that day it happened a little differently – you needed a new bed, and it just came in the morning, so you asked Fushiguro if he’d be willing to help you with the montage of it since you really had no one to ask for it and also, you had no place to sleep on. Asking for favors were against the unspoken rules of your affair, but he agreed without second thought, and yes, he not only put the bed all together, but also decided to give it a test while at it. If you were to be sleeping in there, it seemed only natural that he checked its endurance, so you’ll be safe in here.

“So, what’s the rating for my new bed?”, you joked softly, keeping your eyes closed and your head on his chest.

“Not bad, it’s still in one piece,” Toji chuckled, squeezing your shoulder just slightly. “Quite comfy as well.”

“Isn’t it? I needed an upgrade.”

“Desperately. Your old one was miserable, really.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so miserable if not for your strength, Toji,” you accused with fake seriousness in your voice, and his body shook once again with the gentle laughter.

“If a bed cannot take some fucking, what is that even for then,” he asked and you smiled at the point he made.

“Maybe that’s true.”

And then, there was another silence hanging in the air, but it was comfortable. You were resting, dancing on the edge between staying awake and falling asleep and Toji… Toji was there because he wanted to stay. He could have already dress up and leave, but why would he do that when he can just stay with you? Truth is, he also enjoyed time spend with you and for the longest time he contemplated about just asking you out. That day, encouraged by the fact that you asked him for help, he decided to just go for it.

“Wanna go out tomorrow to grab some lunch?”, he asked, his tone as casual as it was physically possible but right underneath your ear, his heart just skipped a beat.

“Sure,” you replied, sounding calm and collected, but underneath his hand, he could feel how for just a moment you tensed. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

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animehouse-moe · 8 months

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I Miss The Case Study of Vanitas Because Sex

Okay, please forgive me for the clickbait-y title, but I just had to take it. The whiplash is too fun to me. Anyways, yes, I miss The Case Study of Vanitas (both as an anime and manga, since we've not gotten vol 10 in English yet) because of sex. Not the act in and of itself, but the appeal, the tension, the experience. Animanga isn't nearly as sexless as North American media, but it presents its own unique challenges and issues. So, if you don't mind, please humor my little foray into an attempt to explain the decoupling of fan service and sex appeal, with The Case Study of Vanitas as a medium.

⚠️Warning: I've done my best to keep it spoiler free, but by nature there is mild spoilers in regards to characters and certain interactions.⚠️

Is The Case Study of Vanitas about sex? Well, obviously not, no, it's about vampires. But as much as it's about vampires, it's also about despair, hope, penance and revenge, and the intricacies of the human condition. It just happens to feature vampires as the selling point. And I believe therein lies the best explanation of Vanitas: it's not about sex, but rather contains those aspects as a part of the people that exist in its world.

Fanservice has become a rather perverted term. Rather than appealing to a broad range of applications, fanservice tends to exclusively apply to displays that are sexual in nature (most typically in regards to catering to male audiences). In that way it's not particularly awful in how the term itself has shifted, but the use of fanservice is borderline pathetic in most series. A gaudy display of body parts, it hangs on excessive scale and movement to catch the eyes of touch starved individuals. I don't need a ballooned bosom besetting my vision before bobbing about in a baroque display for all too long. That's not the point.

But what is the point? Well, I've prattled on long enough so here's an example.

A look in the eyes, the right lighting. Even simple posing. Sex appeal is not limited to explicit displays of sexuality, but is rather the personification of both the character's intent as well as their external perception.

There are so many moments in this series that are in no way explicitly sexual, but can easily be perceived to have sex appeal or sexual tension.

But then, how would that appeal not feel weakened? It's a good question, honestly, and an important one to ask. When you display the chest of an underaged girl enough times, it won't elate the audience enough to be perceived as "good". It's a universal issue with storytelling, so how does Vanitas get around it?

My answer (and perhaps not the only answer) is how this appeal and tension is derived. I had sort of said it earlier, but didn't really explain. Its source is the very nature of the characters and world. It is not an external force exposing these facets, but the machinations of the plot and its pieces themselves.

Have a look at this example here. Vampires are hot, right? Their power, broody nature, and the concept of the unknown have played into their eroticism and appeal since time immemorial (seriously, look up Carmilla). Vanitas pounces on that concept and immediately plays into it. We don't get blood sucking every episode and every second, no. But we get it enough to provide variation, it appears at the right time to provide another layer to the nature of the story and characters.

Anyways, the example. Lord Ruthven and Noe. Two vampires, engaging in something strictly non-sexual. He is simply biting Noe. But the posing, the nature of the layout. It presents tension. It presents Ruthven's ownership and commanding nature of Noe in this moment. Domination and subjugation.

Even more is this sequence. The commanding nature that presents a clear power dynamic. The phrasing. It absolutely exudes sexual tension. But nothing of the sort is apparent in the actual interaction.

So what's the deal here. I know I had spoken on how characters themselves can convey tension and appeal without explicit intent to do so, but how can circumstance and interaction play into it as well?

Another lovely question. What comprises the act of sex? What are the pieces that elate, entice, and encourage someone? Well, aside from the answer that it's down to the individual, there's a few core pieces. The "top and bottom" dynamic is certainly the one that appears the most when dealing with pairs. Another, while a bit unseemly and slightly (?) taboo is the concept of fear and violence. Of course, I don't mean in any serious context, but the concept is how those things make you feel, and that they stem from that similar power dynamic. Perhaps that's the best word to describe it with: power dynamic. It's all about how two characters interact with each other, where they stand in relation to one another. The above image is the perfect example of that, and the following is how to build on it.

Vanitas and Jeanne, an incredible combination born not out of a mutual desire for the other, but the sheer interest of one and the needs of another. It's a one sided love spurred on by the actions of one that encourages the other to let loose. It creates the interesting dynamic of a power bottom that remains refreshing alongside the other relationships that exist in the story.

So here's a clip of that dynamic.

The way the camera and characters hang on each moment, the way the layouts aim to both obstruct but also apply razor focus. The voice acting. All of it, every single moments provides for that tension and appeal, and it extends past the act of sucking blood and into the souls of the characters themselves. A terrible plead that spills from blood stained lips, a promise that comes from the origin of that crimson.

This "sex appeal" and "sexual tension" is not something manufactured, but the absolute core of these characters. The act of domination, the incredible an undesired need of a substance, the mental fractures eroding at the ego of a person. All of these moments stem from the very souls of the characters and bubble up to the surface in these forms of expression. Where words will not do, actions speak in their place.

Also, Vanitas moaning. Yes please. The greatest benefit to this series is the fact that it's willing to lean into the men as well. This is not "just" for the guys (and lesbians), no. This is for everyone, but especially those that enjoy a side of insanity and toxicity to their romance.

So that brings us to the end. Vanitas is not "about" sex, Vanitas is sex and is the purest way to deliver on fan service while providing sexual tension and appeal. It's subtle, subdued, infrequent and benign. It does not bend to the desires of the viewer, but rather stems from those of the characters. And so many series need to take note. "Lucky Lecher" and perversely excessive displays have no home in my heart when there are far more artistic and desirable sequences that can be produced.

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screeblees · 9 months

Text

Yandere ! Loser x Bully ! Reader Headcanons

Yandere ! Loser is Male and Bully ! Reader is Gender Neutral

Omg???? After my last two posts I’ve gained over 40 followers???

Welcome and I hope you enjoy Yandere ! Loser!!

Also thought I’d let people know before they started reading that Reader is gender neutral since I saw a few posts about it :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy<33

❥ Yandere ! Loser who is first noticed by Bully ! Reader.

❥Yandere ! Loser who comes to the conclusion that Bully ! Reader has a thing for the cute quiet type and has developed a crush on him.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who in return for your perceived crush, becomes obsessed tenfold. He must show that your feelings are not unrequited, after all!

❥ Yandere ! Loser who had spent the majority of his life being alienated from his peers and overlooked by everyone despite his hard earned grades and now practically bathes in your attention (in comparison, at least).

❥ Yandere ! Loser who finds it hard to conceal his excitement when you’re rough with him; shoving him back, grabbing the collar of his shirt, kicking him, slapping him! It just feels too good… And don’t get him started on your degrading words, he might just break!

❥ Yandere ! Loser who feels his knees become weak, back shivering and a heat lighting in their lower stomach when you shove, pin or cage him against a wall or locker in an attempt to intimidate him. Your face being so close to his, allowing him to breathe the same air as you, nothing about the position is helping him retain himself. In fact, he suspects he may even drool sometimes when your threats are especially descriptive. He’s just so pathetic and desperate for you!!

❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves spending hours upon hours worshipping every blessing (read: injury or bruise) you generously bestow upon him, taking pictures with his polaroid camera and noting on the back where and when and most importantly how he received each one.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves visiting your home at night with his camera in hand, capturing you at your most peaceful - a state they would never see at school - and watching you wind down and relax after a school day. Every photo is plastered upon his bedroom walls, his favourite ones being closest to his bed. Sometimes he’s treated to a show late at night when you think no one else is around and all Yandere ! Loser can do is take pictures and drool into the hand covering his mouth. Those photos go in a special box under his bed.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves stalking your social media, making fake accounts to scroll and comment and know all your connections; your family, friends, potential admirers and those you admire. Along with downloading and printing any photos of you for his walls, stalking where you’ve been and where you’re going.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who constantly daydreams all about you, everything about you. Drooling over his fantasies of how life’ll go once the two of you graduate and are together forever without any classmates, teachers or parents to get in the way.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who gets jealous when you touch anyone but him, are mean to anyone but him, talk to anyone but him, look at anyone but him. What right do they have to your attention? No one but him deserves your affections.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who despite his scrawny, weak appearance, is rather cunning and knows how to fight dirty. He catches whoever attempted to steal you away from him by surprise and swiftly cut their throat, ridding the world of them quickly.

❥ Yandere ! Loser who sighs dreamily at the sight of you putting another bully in their place for trying to take your Loser. Right in the middle of him completing one of the many tasks you give him, too. They’ll be dead by midnight but he can gleefully enjoy your violence in peace for now, with a perfect view too. You might as well make your relationship with him official at this point as you’ve made it clear he’s off limits to everyone else!

❥ Yandere ! Loser who believes it to be clear to everyone around that he is yours and you are his. And he’s right, many have noticed the strange interactions between the two of you and have all collectively agreed not to get involved. Even if you aren’t fully aware, he’ll fix that soon enough…

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year

Note

Hey, hope you're doing well. Idk how to to do this cause I haven't ever made a request but I saw your requests are open (if I'm not mistaken, if I am sorry to bother), but what do you think about a Oneshot from Grace's POV. Her thinking Tommy will still be inlove with her but he's moved on and she's perceiving everything between them.

Its okay if you can't but I'm curious. Love you're writing.

Hey Love,

Thanks for waiting so long. Hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Grace being Grace

“A martini please” She batted her eyelashes enjoying running up a tab that was going to be paid for by someone else. After some research, she was happy to find that Tommy Shelby would be attending this club, and the stars aligned in her favor as her husband was tied up at a work thing. Normally he was gone for most of the night and even if he got home early, his feelings were soon to be irrelevant to her.

Grace wanted two things. Tommy Shelby, and his children. Her current marriage had proved that there was only one man for her and he was a half hour late to this club. She could get whatever she wanted with him now, whispers of his name and accomplishments were reaching as far as America. He was slowly taking over like she knew he would deep down.

Now all she needed was a baby and her spot next to him would be cemented. This wasn't going to be a difficult task knowing how broken he was when she found him, he was unlikely to be recovered from her departure from his life.

In this red dress, he was bound to be all over her. She took a large sip of her martini.

A large group entered the club and she knew immediately that it must be the Shelbys. They never did classy as well as they thought they did.

She sat looking at her drink on the bar, she wanted him to find her.

There were lots of laughs and cheers over the music. Arthur came over and asked the bartender for bottles of whiskey for the table.

“Big celebration tonight, boy!” He boomed completely oblivious to her presence. He took the bottles out of view and she wondered what they were so happy about.

The night dragged on and finally, she allowed herself a peak at the corner of the club. It was dim and the music was loud but still, she could see him there with a woman tucked under his arm.

He was leaning back with a cigarette in his hand, the other resting on your shoulder. You weren't anything remarkable. Looking at John’s wife sitting next to you it was obvious the woman helped you with your makeup. Your dress was nice but not anything like hers. Certainly too plain for such a club or event.

Pathetic.

Tommy would notice soon enough and make his way over. Then she would have the pleasure of watching you crumble under the unavoidable weight of his lack of loyalty. She gave a coy smile at the thought and lit a cigarette.

You weren't a threat in the slightest so she turned to face the family, leaning back on the bar. She kept her posture loose and inviting, waiting for his eyes to find her.

Instead, he let out a laugh at something you’d said. He pulled your face close to his and placed a kiss to the top of your head. Esme picked up your hand and was whispering something to you that made your cheeks go crimson. Obviously, you’d embarrassed yourself so badly that even Tommy was laughing at the girl.

You shook your head and then Esme was pulling you out of your booth and onto the dance floor. She watched with curiosity. Why would you dance with her and not Tommy?

You both laughed loudly as you danced around in the crowd. You both looked ridiculous but Tommy had his gaze on you as he and John talked about something. After the song ended you both piled into the table. Climbing back into the booth, Tommy’s hands prevented you from moving past him. Keeping you there on his lap.

Tommy raised the bottle.

“To the world's best accountant!” He said loudly and the family let out a big cheer.

You and Esme were clearly drunk as the woman poured whiskey into your open mouth right from the bottle. More laughs erupted.

She’d had enough waiting but that’s when Polly caught her eye. The woman stared at her with a cocky glare that put her off. The only way to get Tommy’s attention would be to go over there and talk to him. Clearly, he hadn’t seen her sitting here.

Polly turned her attention to Tommy and mouthed her name. She watched to see his body language change. The way you would slip from his grasp. How he would walk over here and leave with her on his arm.

But he didn't move. His eyes went back to your face listening to what sounded like a story about an exam. Just waiting for the story to be over, then he would come.

Time dragged on, another martini.

You got up from his lap and he stood up, his hand finding your low back and guiding you toward the balconies. This would be as good as it gets.

Grace got up from the bar and made her way to the balcony.

_________________________________________________________

You stood there looking up at Tommy, his eyes were so proud. Weeks of studying and worrying and yet you passed all your university classes. You delighted in his attention as the cold air wrapped around you.

The balcony door opened to show, who Esme had whispered was Tommy’s Ex. Pale yellow hair, and a glossy red dress. She was older than you in more ways than one. She looked like she was carrying a great burden.

“Tommy can we talk.” Her Irish accent was soft and her words thick with sadness. You almost felt sorry for her, you would have if she hadn't betrayed the family and fucked Tommy up so badly.

“Sure.” He said cooly, his hand on your waist tightened to keep you in place at his side.

“Alone?”

“Nah, she’s my better half. What can we help you with?”

“I’ll be in London for a while. I thought maybe we could talk about what happened, things are complicated right now -” She let her words trail off and you knew in your gut this was some type of act.

“I would invite you for dinner but we’re leaving on a trip tomorrow. Such bad timing.” You said politely. She never looked at you, even when you spoke. Her eyes were fixated on him in a way that made you want to throw her over the balcony.

“Pity,” Tommy said. “Enjoy your time in London.”

She looked even more defeated, a large contrast to the glare she was giving you from across the club all night. She handed Tommy a piece of paper before leaving, giving him a nod.

“The fuck was that about?” you whispered. You took the paper and opened it. All it had was her accommodations in London.

“Ah.” She expected him to drop me off at home before falling back into her arms.

“Do I need to worry?” You said in a coy tone.

“Not in the slightest.” He said pulling you into an embrace. Esme and John came out with eyes full of questions. You gave the paper to Esme.

“What is she expecting a foursome?” She made a sound of disgust before crumpling the paper and leaving it in the ashtray.

As you drank and partied to celebrate your success, you knew she was back in her room pacing. The faith in her ability to hold Tommy down wearing away hour by hour.

#tommy x reader #Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #Tommy shelby request #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #grace shelby

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

Text

The Immortal’s Feelings

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader feat. Silver

💛 Word Count: 0,7k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!***

I’m not a psychology student, but I think it’s interesting how (forced) transformation can affect human psyche. Then again, my depiction won’t be perfect considering I’m someone with neutral feelings nearly all the time (at least enough until some people close to me call me emotionless lmao).

“Why did you become a knight, Silver?”

You sipped the tea calmly and gracefully; an act that was enough to make the majority of people here acknowledged you as their queen, but never enough to make them accept you. At least, all those tedious lessons about table manners paid off somewhat.

“Because I want to repay my father and His Majesty’s kindness.”

“I see.” you mused, putting down the cup on the saucer with a soft clink. “So, I guess no matter what I do, you’ll always be loyal to him, huh…”

Silver gripped his knees.

“You are the queen, so I’ll still obey your orders.”

“Anyone can obey me, but not everyone can be loyal to me. That’s probably the first thing I’ve learned since my… coronation.”

You hated that word. It sounded too noble, too posh, too heavy. As if it was something you should be honored with, rejoiced over. It might be better to rule over the people who hated you rather than live among them, but it didn’t make the experience any less unpleasant.

“I won’t lie and say that what he did was right, but fairies tend to love intensely.”

“And humans love freedom. They need it, even. But, at the end of the day, I’m just an artificial fae, aren’t I?” you sneered. “Even humanity feels alien to me now, like a concept too abstract for me to understand.”

The last part came out more as a heartfelt confession than a bitter remark. Sometimes you woke up and felt a deep hollowness inside your chest, as if someone had ripped your heart out and left you as a husk. Or a robot, because you were still functional. Yes, you did your duty as a queen and a wife; a routine that was as normal as sleeping and eating now. There were times when you experienced any kind of emotion too, and you quickly forgot the reason behind it. Why were you happy? Why were you sad? It didn’t make any sense. Your brain had overpowered your body at this point, and what was left of your heart was used to accommodate the petty offense over an insult, perceived or not.

Back then, you would’ve called it embarrassing. Nobody should be sensitive enough to attack someone just because they forgot to greet you. But now, you’d made great use of Malleus by ordering him to publicly humiliate the offender. Something still caught you from committing a worst act, though, and you weren’t sure whether you should be relieved or not. Whether it was your lingering humanity or the warnings you’d gotten from people who deemed themselves important enough to not embarrass yourself.

And yet, Malleus was happy. Proud, even. Although you’d learned it was much better to use him than defy him, anger would resurface and remind you that asking for his help was similar to needing him. Then, memories of him forcing you to marry him and transforming you into a pathetic, subpar version of himself would spark all the forgotten feelings, only for them to disappear when you tried so hard to remember why you hated Malleus in the first place.

It was a confusing event all around, and your husband, with his limited knowledge of human psyche and the effect of your transformation, chalked it up to ‘mood swing’. Still, it did change your attitude to everyone else and led them to look at you the same way they looked at Malleus; with fear, and probably less respect.

After all, you were nothing without him.

But then, you spotted Silver helping his sparring partner from the ground and remembered that humanity was about helping each other. At least, that was what you thought, until you heard his explanation.

“… I have nothing to say, Your Majesty.” Silver admitted shamefully.

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Of course, you don’t. You’re just a human raised by faes. You know about humanity as much as I do.” You waved your hand dismissively. “Now, leave. I want to be alone right now.”

You heard the chair scrape against the stone masonry, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge his respectful bow. It was only after he went inside the castle, did you open your eyes and peer down through the balcony.

A few mortal servants and knights scattered here and there, and you wondered whether you could sway this minority group to join your side with your experiences as a former human.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #yandere twst #female reader #malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #silver #twst silver

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resident-gay-bitch · 7 months

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a steddie modern au idea that i probably won’t write because i just Don’t have the time or energy for another wip but i’m putting it out here so i remember it, and if anyone wants to write this or gets inspired Please tag me so i can read it <3

okay so imagine this right, rockstar eddie & popstar steve - on complete opposite ends of the music spectrum, forcibly brought together by their label to collaborate on an album!!

read more under the cut :)

( i basically wore the fic lol )

okay, eddie’s in his band right with CC, and they’ve come so far and are doing so well in the metal industry. eddie’s made quite the reputation for himself as the loud, bash, pushy, stuck up, bitchy rockstar who makes his own rules, parties fucking hard, and is a certified sex symbol across the globe.

once on stage, playing out under the stars, a bat flew down onto stage and it was freaking gareth out so eddie Caught it with his hands and held it up simba style, named it ozzy, sent it back off into the night sky and dubbed the bat the bands - and eddie’s own - personal mascot. this was way earlier on in their career so metal snobs started calling him an ozzy osbourne wannabe - the prissy Princess of Darkness. untill he started making way and then the name stuck and one time eddie came out onstage in full pink princess dress and crown and played their gnarliest show yet.

steve harrington though? he’s an angel. the youngsters drool over him and have pictures of soft sweaters and stawberry lipglossed steve on their walls, middle aged women look at him and wished their husbands could be the kind soul that the world knows him to be. the “men” call him a queer and pathetic, and when people ask steve about it in interviews he just smiles and shrugs and says in his soft voice “if that’s how they want to perceive me, that’s okay. i know who i am, i’m just steve. why should we spread hate when we can just be nice?”

girls from highschool started posting about their own experiences with the soft boy sensation that is steve, saying he was the kindest boy they’ve ever dated, he brings girls flowers and kisses them on the doorstep and Holds Their Hands during sex. gen z start calling him a “king 💅” whenever Anything comes out about steve because he just Can’t do anything wrong, and eventually he gets dubbed the King of Pop.

eddie munson is best friends and living with five time gold medalist olympian chrissy cunningham, the gymnast young girls look up too. they’re often speculated to be dating, and half the world thinks they’re actually married concidering they have a cat together, often wear matching outfits when out, and hold hands when walking around. one time eddie was captured giving her a forehead kiss when standing in line for smoothies. but concidering eddie is also seen leaving venues with girls under his arm, and chrissy following behind him with a couple of guys, the rest of the world says they can’t be. who knows, maybe their open or polly, it’s the twenty first century everybody! (but in truth eddie’s walking with chrissy’s hookups under his arms, and chrissy’s chatting away with the guys eddie plans on ruining for the night, and they’ll swap once sage inside the trailer)

steve has a house right next door to up and coming actress robin buckley, and they took down the fence between their homes and built a corridor combining them. they’re as close as chrissy and eddie seem to be, but after robin was seen making out with one of her female costars at a red carpet after party, and wearing a lesbian flag pin on her jacket in paparazzi pics, those rumours have died significantly.

chrissy cunningham is in love with steve harrington, she thinks he’s the perfect man, “if i had to date a guy, eddie, it would be that one and that one Only. i’ll excuse the penis if he looks at me with those pretty boy eyes.” she has posters of him on her wall, listens to his music on the regular, and eddie knows way more about him than he’d like to admit. not that he pays much attention, just when chrissy plays his latest single on an endless loop and quotes things he says on the daily, a guys gonna pick up on stuff.

robins little sister, max, who by platonic-soulmate-law, is steve’s little sister is Obsessed with CC. she listens to them all the time, along with a bunch of other metal and punk bands, and has a poster of him shredding on her wall. her boyfriend lucas gets jealous about it all the time and even took to learning one of his solos on steve’s guitar.

the thing is, though, eddie and steve are perceived the way they are because their label actually Sucks and they’re signed in for too many more years to find a way out.

queer aligations got shot around about Everyone in CC. people think they all fuck guys, people think they all fuck eachother, people think so many things and the label twists and turns those stories to make them “acceptable”.

the thing is though, they’re all so fucking gay… and they all have fucked eachother. eddie and gareth were boyfriends back in highschool, jeff and grant have been together for the last couple of years and they’re talking marriage. they’ve all hooked up with eachother separately, they’ve all gotten together for a few foursomes, they’ve all gangbanged a bunch of groupies of Multiple genders together, so eddie Knows where the rumours come from. he wants to be out, hates hiding, thinks it’s stupid and backwards and Who Cares if they loose a few followers? those aren’t the kinds of people eddie wants listening to his music anyway.

it’s only when gareth settled down with his new wife and popped out kid number one that the rumours about him started to die out… even though, before the kid came around, gareth and his wife would sleep with eddie, jeff, and grant like… all the time.

the only queer speculations about steve are the ones coming from the “alpha males” and younger queer boys that connect with him and want someone like steve to look up too and say “he’s queer too, we’re the same, and it’s okay”. but his label hasn’t given steve a voice… like at all. he got signed because of his gorgeous voice and soft lyrics about losing love and being alone, and being conflicted in your sexuality, and then they signed him and his contract states that he’s Not allowed to write Any of his own lyrics. not a single one of his own songs have been published, to this day.

the label tried to restrict eddie like that too, saying his lyrics were too controversial, but CC refuses to be fake. they agreed to only write songs about death and drugs and sex and satan and blah blah blah metal. eddie’s never really published much from the heart, but he sneaks metaphors in there all the time, that only hardcore fans can pick up on.

the labels getting bored of steve. it’s just the same music, the same tours, the same questions in every interview. he’s Boring them. it’s only a small amount of time before the world gets bored of him too, plus, it’s not like he’ll stay this pretty forever. they want to discard him - he’s locked in by contract though, has to release one more album and tour before they can be done with him.

and then grant dies. it’s a horrible accident, car crash, some drunk driver t-boned him and flipped his car off the road. it Breaks jeff. it breaks all of them, but mostly jeff. he’s distraught, turns to drugs, ODs and it’s then that gareth and eddie send him to rehab.

there’s no corroded coffin without grant, the band breaks up. the three of them Won’t play stadium tours and write albums together without him, and- “are you fucking CRAZY? of course we’re not Replacing him, get a fucking grip.”

it takes Months for any of them to get to a point where they can be seen in society again. it’s then that the label says they Have to bring one more album an to the table. but they’re willing to drop CC if eddie goes solo. he’s the face of the band anyway, the voice, “he’s who the women want, guys.”

eddie agrees, because he’s legally obligated too. and he writes the most dumbfuck album anyone’s ever heard. it’s all preschool-esque lyrics and about farm animals and potty training and it’s also just fucking Gay - like there’s one song that just goes on and on an on about some guys ballsack. he records a demo to go with them, has his guitar perfectly out of tune and sings so terribly his voice cracks, if singing is what you can actually call it. the label gets So fucking mad at him.

so here they are, newly solo artist eddie munson, the fucking prick, stuckup rockstar, entitled rich as Princess of Darkness, and steve harrington, the sweet soft boy turned boring, King of Pop; both locked in for another album, and tour, and Useless.

they’re going to Lose the label money at this rate.

so they try something. something that will bring in Buckets.

CC and steve harrington are the labels two biggest musicians. they’re constantly fighting to be top of the charts, shooting past eachother with every new album, new single, new tour, new pap photos, new relationship spectacle, each red carpet appearance… evetything. They are who everyone’s obessed with, they are who have the Biggest markets. every woman on the globe has to be obsessed with at least One of them.

why not pool those two fanbases together? get them to collaborate on a song together, the fans will go crazy and it will surely break the charts. the company will get So fucking rich.

but if they can make buckets off one song… than why not a whole album? why not make them Tour together.

which is how eddie and steve find themselves nervously sitting in a recording studio together one afternoon, going through introductions and contracts and provosos with the label and blah blah blah boring rules and legal shit.

eddie’s dreading working with this guy. he’s a total Phonie! King of Pop? who does he think he is, this harry styles wanna be. sure he writes poetic shit about love and making soft love to women, but it’s all so vapid. eddie Knows music, and he knows when lyrics are bullshit. i mean Sure, eddie knows a good handful of his songs on guitar, but that’s Only so he can play them to chrissy because it’s special to her. doesn’t make his music Good - and that’s not even eddie being a snob, he can vibe with pop, taylor swift is a lyrical goddess, he is an all too well girlie and he and chrissy scream the ten minuet version in the car together late at night.

he’s also dreading the clear over kindness. steve’s meant to be this darling angel, and sure that’s why the girls and gays love him so much, but eddie doesn’t think he could Handle someone being so fucking nice up in his face like that because he’ll Know it’s fake. he won’t be able to tell if the guys actually being nice because he actually gets along with eddie, or if he’s being nice because it’s his job.

and steve is dreading working with eddie because eddie is supposed to be one of the Hardest people to work for. he’s stuck up and dickish and Snarky and so fucking confident and a Rockstar for fucks sake. steve is way too tired to deal with a cunt right now - let alone Tour with one.

everything about this meeting and collaboration is Completely under the blanket. the label doesn’t want to announce Anything until they have a good album from them, because they know how hot headed and temperamental eddie is - given the last thing he gave them, which was immediately scrapped.

so they meet, sign a bunch of non disclosures. they’re not even allowed to tell robin and chrissy that they’re Meeting eachother - they do, though, but it doesn’t go past those two.

they’re left alone, once everything is signed. they’ve been standoffish, haven’t said more than ten words to eachother. eddie’s all glares and attitude, steve’s all soft smiles and bats of his eyelids.

they both want to be sick - this is torture.

everything’s signed. everything’s legally a secret. they’re behind closed doors in a recording studio to themselves to “get creative”. and so the masks come down.

turns out, steve is Not nice. three minuets into their alone time, eddie kicks his feet up onto the desk by steve and steve… he picks up a pen and uses it to push eddie’s shoes off the table and away from him with a bitchy glare.

steve’s Bitchy. he’s got bite and he’s So fucking sarcastic. he keeps looking eddie over and scrunching his nose, he keeps making snide comments about eddie’s over sexual behaviour and drug culture. he even goes so far as to insult eddie’s hair, “the eighties called, van halen wants his wig back”.

and eddie’s… we’ll, he’s a little turned on by it.

to the world, steve’s this perfect little soft boy who sings about love and sugar and spice and all things nice, but when there’s a contract saying eddie’s legally obliged to shut his trap about Anything steve related, he lets his true colours show.

and steve? well, once he sends out a Bunch of snarky remarks eddie’s way, he’s realising that eddie’s not reacting the way he’s been conditioned to believe eddie would. he’s expecting mean quips back, jabs at his career and “queerness” and pastel colour pallet, maybe even a meltdown. but eddie just sits there slack jawed and actually.. encouragers steve’s insults and bitchy nature. and eddie’s kinda sweet, when steve tells him to keep his shoes off the table, eddie complies and actually apologises. he even pulls out a random compliment, telling steve he actually has a really nice voice.

and he’s making steve nervous… he’s getting butterflies.

they talk for a little while longer before eddie conducts a plan. they have to go home and listen to each others music and pick a few favourites or memorable things, stuff they think they can get behind mixing with their own style. they need something with Both of their sounds combined.

steve only has a few albums out, so eddie says he’ll listen to them all. corroded coffin though? they have Heaps of music out, so eddie writes down a list of their top albums and some of His favourites from other albums that he thinks steve might be able to get behind.

steve goes home and recruits robin to listen with him, gets max to send through all of her favourites and Why. he writes down a little list with his top five songs and a couple quotes and times where solos fucking rock. by the time he’s done he’s got about an a4 page worth of notes.

eddie goes home and he and chrissy spend the night analysing All of steve’s music. they print out the lyrics to every song and scribble all over them, listing to his two albums, one EP, and a single, on an endless loop. chrissy is Always happy to spend hours talking about Steve Harrington, and eddie is the biggest fucking nerd and loves analysing music and figuring everything about it out. he learns chords, flips some of steve’s songs to make them a little rougher so he can show steve and give him a taste of the stuff they Could create.

steve feels so embarrassed with the lack of shit he’s got when eddie slams down a Folder full of notes. but eddie hurriedly stops steve’s apologising and looks at his notes and Actually awes at them “you like this song? it’s your favourite? i wrote that secretly about my fuck off dad and missing my mamma- you really like it? gosh, not many people do… this is so cool, i can’t believe you listened to it”

eddie starts talking about - and dissecting - steve’s music, telling him things about his lyrics He didn’t actually know. eddie tells him they’re all kinda… vappid. like steve doesn’t sing them with Emotion. they don’t come from the heart, they’re just stories. steve tells him he’s not allowed to write his own stuff, even though he has books full of lyrics at home.

eddie has an entire wall of his house turned into a bookshelf filled with journals for lyrics and writing music, different shelf’s are for different moods and different journals are for different themes.

they start to jam and eddie plays a few of steve’s songs. they figure out some stuff and eddie declares they’re going to make “the most outer worldly album that’s ever graced our mortal plane, king stevie, i can promise you that” - he gives steve a mission. he has to go home and find One song he’s written that he’d like the world to know about, and text pictures of it to eddie - and eddie will make sure it’s label appropriate (if it’s not, he’ll sit down with steve and they’ll tweak it to hide controversial themes behind metaphors) and tell their boss he wrote it so they can put it on the album; steve will sing it of course, and it will come from the heart.

they talk about their experiences over the next few weeks. it’s basically paid fucking therapy. eddie talks about grant, talks about CC, talks about highschool, talks about chrissy. steve talks about robin, talks about highschool, talks about the mall fire he got caught in, he talks about his abuser billy hargrove. eddie opens up about his own abuser, reefer rick, his old supplier. steve opens up about getting cheated on with the first girl he loved. eddie opened up about getting cheated on by reefer. steve opens up about neglectful parents and eddie opens up about his time through the foster system and having a druggie mother and a dad in jail.

that’s what they write music about.

steve finally sends eddie a song. it’s a song about learning to care about yourself. he wrote it when robin stepped into his life, when she conditioned him to gain his self respect back and love himself. it’s about how fucking Important loving yourself - no matter your difference or your experiences may be.

eddie cries when he reads it, he thinks it’s perfect just the way it is. the few undertones of queerness he’s picking up on from deep analysis will go right over the labels heads.

eddie suggests he write a song completely on his own for the album too, one without steve’s imput. then they both have one song that’s completely Theirs. he writes his song about grant, it’s an ode to him, a goodbye, and hidden behind metaphors and poetic tear stained lyrics, it’s about having your true self hidden by masks and flashy cameras and men in tight suits; it’s about jeff, it’s about their love, it’s about the love eddie had for grant, it’s about the love they all had for eachother, it’s about the bandanna they all wear in their back pockets from time to time.

steve reads it and he… he gets it.

he knows eddie’s queer, eddie let it slip the second time they met, when he was talking about another of his songs about the first guy he had sex with. so it’s not a shock to steve to read this kinda shit.

but when eddie’s reading steve’s lyrics, it’s kinda shocking to him. steve hadn’t come out, even though he’s given ample opportunity, hadn’t mentioned anything about men and talked plenty about women, so eddie just fairly assumed he was straight.

on the last day of recording the album, they’re in the studio together. all the backtracks are done and they’re just recording lyrics. they’re both there in the sound booth with headphones on, and eddie’s singing his ode to grant, steve backing up his vocals, but letting eddie take centre stage. eddie cries and takes a good break before they can record steve’s song - steve’s song that they think eddie wrote.

they record steve’s song, eddie eddie backs up his vocals occasionally when asked, but it’s Steve’s song. its litterally titled steve’s song, because eddie felt sick with the idea of Actually taking credit for something steve created. he’s only doing it for legal reasons and because he Needs steve to get his lyrics out into the world. they worked on all the other songs together - the label doesn’t know that - but this is Steve’s. it should have been on his first album.

steve cries whilst singing it, because it comes from the heart. he sings it with raw fucking emotion and.. oh jeez, it makes eddie cry too. steve finished singing and eddie pulls him into a tight hug and whispers to steve so no one else can hear “that’s the best you’ve ever sounded, stevie”.

what they didn’t know was that their manager snapped a photo of their hug and sent it to rolling stone along with an announcement of a new album and upcoming tour.

the internet goes bazerk! “the King of Pop and the Princess of Darkness? what an odd pair… someone write me this fan fiction rn.”

eddie and steve go home that night feeling a little useless. they just spent weeks crammed up in the recording studio together, making music and talking about things they are too scared to tell the world, and now they’re… no where near eachother.

they both sit there in their houses and come to the realisation that they Don’t just think the other is only adorable and totally their type… that maybe they were falling in love and feel kinda empty without eachother.

they start texting, chatting, keeping eachother updated on their lives - mostly on their platonic soulmates. steve prints off a selfie he and eddie took together one night a few drinks in, guitars on their laps, cheesy grins on their faces, and signs it for chrissy - she Freaks Out.

eddie sends over a CC sample hoodie he had lying around that ended up getting discontinued before selling at all, and he signed the spot over the heart with fabric pen for max.

the single drops - steve’s song - and fans go crazy. steve’s fans And eddie’s fans have collectively come together to Scream about it. it reaches top of the charts in under a week. who knew a bunch of teenage girls could be so powerful?

the tour gets announced - tickets sell Fast.

the rest of the album drops and the label hosts a party for it. steve and eddie bring their other half’s and robin and chrissy hit it off immediately, and they start dating at a lesbian pace. steve and eddie get plastered and wake up cuddling - fully clothed, but cuddling - in… chrissy’s bed? they barely even remember going back to eddie’s place, but when they go out to the kitchen they find out that they ended up keeping the party going here - robin and chrissy are curled up together half naked on the couch.

they keep texting. they can’t stay away from eachother. they know the flirting is bad and helpless, but they Can’t Help it. they’re both smitten and falling more and more each day.

the tour starts and there are strict rules they have to oblige by, via steve’s original contact. eddie breaks half of them.

one of the rules happens to be Zero queerness - but that’s the same for eddie’s contract. they’re also both talked too about acting too “gay” on stage, they’re not allowed too. whatever that means.

the tour is fucking amazing. they both love looking out to the crowd and seeing all the different people. there are teenage girls in pastel skirts and sparkly dresses with bedazzled glasses and friendship charm bracelets, there are girls with dark eyeliner and ripped stockings and chunky silver jewlery and an obscene amount of leather, there are boys in lightwash jeans and crop tops, and boys in black ripped jeans and the wrong band tees with jewlery all over their faces, their are middle aged mothers wine drunk, there are older men with goatees, there are father there with their daughters and mothers there with their sons, and So, So many more different people. it makes them both emotional.

after show four of their massive tour, they’re both having a few drinks in eddie’s trailer and listening to music and continuing the game of truth or dare robin and chrissy started before they got distracted and wandered off to steve’s trailer. they get drunker, and gigglier, and closer, and more lose lipped, and steve tells eddie he’s bi, and eddie tells steve he’s the most beautiful (inside and out) man he’s ever met, and they kiss.

they spent the rest of their tour keeping their relationship VERY secret. steve’s trailer is now permanently robin and chrissy’s, and he and eddie share eddie’s. no one suspects a thing, they’re both used to keeping their queer relations under wraps.

they say i love you in the last month of their tour. when they get home, they want to move in together. they’re going to buy their own mansion with all the fucking money this albums made them, and they’re planning what their room will look like, and their kitchen, and their garden, and their future. steve wants kids, always has. eddie’s scared to be a dad, but he thinks he’d like to try with steve, just not for a few more years. they both think marriage is stupid, but they’re also both hopeless romantics who have each pictured and planned their own weddings so they think they might even get married one day. they get matching tattoos, a little crown on eddie’s ribs under his heart for steve, and a tiara in the same place on steve for eddie.

the label asks to sign them both on for a few more albums, another tour. they’re bringing in So much money.

eddie says no, straight away. he’s not letting steve get suffocated by these fuckers anymore. there’s nothing here for him anyway. he’s already working with gareth and jeff on creating their own label, it’s almost up and running.

for steve’s birthday, three nights before the tour ends, eddie tells him he’s now the co-ceo of his own production company, named after grant, to carry on his legacy. eddie slides over a wad of paper and tells steve he wants the first artist they sign to be steve - he works on his own conditions, writes whatever music he wants, sings from the heart, writes them one album and then once that’s done (when steve is Ready for it to be done) they’ll draw up another contract, if that’s what steve wants. steve signs, starts working on his first album right away.

he lies in bed that night with eddie’s head on his chest, and they’re scribbling down lyrics about sex in satin sheets in the dark of a tour trailer, and falling in love.

they perform their last show, and they cry hopelessly.

that’s it. they’re done. their no longer signed to the label, evetythings Over.

eddie’s wearing the tiara steve put on his head on their First show, he’s also wearing leather and stompers and no shirt. steve’s wearing lightwash blue jeans and a flowey shirt made of lace and a crooked crown on top of his perfect hair. they’re both heaving, and crying black mascara and eyeliner tracks down their cheeks, and sweating buckets. but they both think the other is so fucking beautiful and they can’t resist it

it’s not like they’re locked in by the label anymore anyway.

eddie shoved his guitar off and lays it very neatly on the ground before full pelt running for steve and just Kissing him. the crowd goes fucking crazy. they loose their shit and it breaks the media.

“i love you…” eddie pants into his mouth and kisses him again “i love you so fucking much baby”

“i love you too.” steve says and then he swiftly drops to one knee, pulls a ring box out of his pocket and asks eddie to marry him

it’s there in stage, with a the most diverse and random crowd in the world, sweaty and hot and in love, that eddie and steve break history. not only did they Just come out to the world as queer… and dating, they’re also the first famous queer couple to get engaged on stage like this.

so yeah… that’s my “little” fic idea :)

and then they obviously get married and get their mansion or whatever and adopt a kid a few years into the marriage, when eddie feels stable enough to be able to responsibily raise a little gremlin. she’s totally a little menace like eddie, but she’s for sure got his pure sweetness when she’s with people she trusts and loves but holy shit is she steve’s kid, because she’s gotta be more snarky and more bitchy than steve was during their first meeting… and what’s worse is when they gang up on eddie with double bitchy glares.

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darlingeto · 2 years

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Rawdogging this shit while i drink away ghost riley and his fucked life

He loves eating pussy and being called sir gets him frustrated i would know.

Slight veryy slight like if u really squint impact play. Lots of cum eating because im filthy. Like one pet name. Oral both received it kinda. Choking? Technically angry sex? Mutual pinning but shush cause theyre both five year old emotionally. Tell me what i forgot im drunk

Simon ghost Riley x female reader

Lowk the reader is a bit annoying

I tried to make this short ??

Please i wanna hold him on my tits and pat his head i might lose it.

First time he ever touched u was because he had to. He and u were stuck in a hideout with your torso full of deep cuts and scratches from the explosion’s residue metal while u made your way to the car. Your lieutenant stitches your waist in an out of character care. Not that he doesn’t always show care and worry for his team but because he constantly kept repeating how he told u to stay behind him and that it wasn’t a suggestion but an order. Your only response were a huffing laugh that slowly turned to a grunt from the pain of the needle and a short “sorry sir i will follow orders more accordingly next time” which made him turn quiet. Silence that lasted all the way to your next mission a couple of weeks later. This mission being your third with this team.

Second time you feel his hands and grip is again on your waist as he moves u out the way to get to the papers on the desk. Papers which u had presented for a detour to your original route. He towering over the others scans said paper and nods simply walking back to his equipment and ordering the other two in your team to follow the original route to leave u and your lieutenant for the risk of your idea. Although his hands were gone off your waist with urgency because of the turn of your neck and your strangely big eyes looking up at him it burned on your skin for far longer than you’d like to say, feeling bizarrely bashful of such a stupid exaggeration on your end.

The third time was sweet or maybe a touch starving mind like yours perceived it as so when he and soap had been teasing u about how much you’ve grown to create a new and better option for efficiency during the mission and your grumpy remarks earned u a pat in the back while he told u to pour some whiskey for everyone. Normally u would shrug it off, orders not being of your liking especially when not necessary but u found yourself drunken in the span of 15 minutes with the others’ voices muffled except for his while he for once opened that damned mouth and told the others to wake u up. You weren’t asleep but the embarrassing way your head was resting on his shoulder was too much of a stretch to just jolt up and hide into your room. When u hear the jokes however u do it regardless flipping soap’s teasing off and then running face down onto your pillow. Tearing your uniform off with bother and grumpiness. You had now touched him, somehow it felt like you lost some nonexistent bet in your head. It felt pathetic in many levels.

The fourth time was just a day later for u had stayed in bed in the hideout while everyone was doing the morning work out. He came in steadily and called out your name which in response was served a groaning “yes sir” you hear steps from under the covers and he pulls the blanket down just slightly brushing just his finger accidentally onto your lip. You are giving him those big eyes again but now theyre tired and swollen. “Well i have seen a lot but a hangover from just one shot of whiskey is definitely fresh” you manage to roll your eyes and sit up, your eyes avoiding his sharp ones. “Im not hangover sir i just have the flu.” “Sure you do” and then he’s taking off his glove and pressing his palm onto your forehead. You’re stuck between leaning into his cold palm and pushing it off but your eyes shut from the size of his hand coming down em and sigh contented almost leaning your head’s weight fully onto the large palm. Noticing he blinks and then pushes u back down to bed. He leaves quickly and the last thing your sleepy state registers is a “Youre excused to stay in”. Your what u called rest for a minute to regain your composure lasted up till late in the afternoon a bothersome call of your name from soap as he came in making u wince away the drowsiness as he placed a cup on your small desk. “Have some tea for u” “I dont need it, did u guys already have breakfast” “Sleeping beauty thanks to u we had the honor of breakfast and lunch by the lieutenant and believe it or not we are enjoying his tea and you sure should too. His brit really comes out” that seemed to surprise u as u look at the tea. Your throat does feel dry so u might as well. U taste it and its like the thing in his voice sweet with honey but bitter and strong. The cup also doesn’t belong to u. Its his own u note but strongly believe the man in front of u got them switched. That evening u only went out late enough for the only one patrolling to run into you as u were in desperate need of a smoke. And to your luck its the lieutenant. He looks at u and u look at your hand clearing your throat and fixing your back straight. “Thanks for the tea” why are u thanking him. Its only normal for all of u to have tea. “Do u have another one” u look at where he’s looking.. he’s asking for a smoke and u give him yours almost too eagerly and rashly. He takes it bending slightly and his hand comes to push the fabric on his face away as the surprising but somehow attractive view of his dry lips wrap around the cigarette you’re feeling hot again and the fever surely picked up because you find yourself forcing off a smile with a gulp. You quickly busy yourself with lighting another cigarette as he enjoys your first. You both wordlessly smoke away for a minute. Him because silence is only of ghosts nature and u because your mind has been preoccupied with the shape of his lips. His lips touching the spot where yours were. Him not bothering to even comment on technically revealing a feature of his face. You’re confused and feverish so u greet him good night in the most awkward form as u hit your bed again. Not that u get much sleep anyways.

But this time u cant not note it down to yourself his hand is gripping your wrist as u yell at his face. Yes his uncovered face that is adorned in crimson from a knife that grazed and cut off his skin along with his mask. He was too busy protecting you as an enemy made way across his well, safe eye, thankfully, and it had u fuming. Yes he’s your superior but you do not need protection. Not his not anyones it made u feel so little and useless when you for the first time to see his hell of attractive face but bleeding only because u were incompetent enough for him to lose his concentration. He is gripping your wrist and yelling back. “Soldier watch your mouth. If it weren’t for this cut your throat would’ve been the target.” “ I could’ve protected myself. No. I can.” You try to state but it comes off weak and breathless his eyes shutting u up from the thick air of intimidation as he breathes down at u. Hes mad. In all your months of working with the man u hadn’t encountered his so feared anger. It has your knees weak and your throat dry but u dont want him to own this situation away with it. So u speak up. “What has u so bothered sir if u dont want me fucking up your team its only fair u make a complaint ill be gone just as abruptly as i came” “dont u call me sir while fuckin telling me to give in to what u want” his tone is harsh and just a thin layer between low and desperate and his grip is harsher but u bite back “ you think id wanna leave after seeing your pretty face” its so fast your gasp cuts off as he wraps a hand around your throat and brings your faces closer. “U minx i told u to shut up”.

“And i told u to fuck off because it wont happen” he squeezes down on your airways his cold hand making your heating body shiver. Your eyes dont leave his dark lidded ones and for a moment the whole world disappears. Its only your huffs and his before he presses his lips with an overwhelming passion slamming u onto the desk by your throat causing your mouth to form in an o as he pushes his tongue against yours and you try at squeezing your thighs only to feel his own press to your middle. You’re mewling, your hips shaking slightly and he hovers over your mouth before dragging his teeth tauntingly at where his thumb on your neck is. Moving it to press down your tongue he bites down on the flesh you make the decision to suck on his thumb as the only way to quiet yourself. He lowly oh so lowly groans that u can barely make it out over your own sounds. His hands are everywhere.

Squeezing at your hips, ass, thighs, tits, anything he can reach with his needy urgency. But you find the strength to relish in your own urges hands pressing up his forearm and the other on his torso trying to get his tight shirt off so u can really feel his warm skin. When u cant get it off though you let out a whine that surprises both of you and he looks at u. Same big eyes that u save for such inconvenient moments looking up at him he lets out a low “fuckin hell name” and you whine again because the way your name sounds coming from him while he’s so heated has u rubbing yourself onto his thigh. He taps your cheek enough for your head to sway pathetically as u blush vividly “you sound too lewd for fucks sake” “ take your shirt off . Please” he shuts his eyes covering your mouth head dropping back before kicking your thighs apart with his own pressing his middle to your own. His mouth coming to the side of your head “now you’re behaving? Begging even?” “Fuck god just please i wanna touch u” he rips your shirt open biting at the skin of your plush chest as he tears his own off. You moan when u finally get your hands onto his skin wrapping hands around his neck once you’ve trailed them all the way to his shoulders bringing him down for a kiss. One that lasts for the entire time he needs to get u out of your trousers. He’s speaking in between your suffocating kiss “Wait” “Wait wait wait let me see u” his face is close before he straightens up trailing eyes all over your every curve only to fix at your clothed sticky mess causing his brows to furrow and his jaw to flex. The urge to shut your legs cut off by his waist so u wrap your legs around it pulling him closer “Ghost dont just look please “ “Its either simon or sir for u” he is kneeling down taking your legs over his shoulders biting onto the skin of your inner thighs and u think only briefly about sitting up to ask him not to tease u but your hands fly to your mouth to cover the surprise scream u let out when he licks over your clothed cunt. He pulls your underwear off with a demanding need shoving his face back into your slit lapping up at the juices. He speaks with a broken tone “ oh fuck you taste too good “ he’s biting at your clit before pressing three fingers onto your clenching hole. Your head fall forward as you tap at his shoulders too needy for his dick to be filling u up but he just grabs your hands with his free one holding them in place determined to make u cum on his face. His drinking your every drop and consuming your every sound , he wants to ravish u fully with how your thighs squeeze around his head. His fingers only growing in precision to that spot that makes u cry out just a little louder and dig your nails onto his skin. In far too little minutes youre buckling yourself onto his face biting down onto his glove he shoved into your mouth as u release all over his face twitching with every slight flick of his tongue as he drinks up the aftershocks looking up at u as if to say get your ass off there before smacking u right there and squeezing at the plushy flesh after and u move off the desk as he wastes no time in bending u over that desk and unzipping his pants his length forcing its way between your thighs “i wanna fuck u. Do u wanna fuck me? Hm?” And hes pulling at your jaw making u look up at him as u nod “ Please fuck me Simon “ he kisses u slowly as he starts feeding u his length with a significant self restraint.

Tears prickle at your eyes as u moan taking his hand and placing the fingers that were fuckin u in your mouth and it takes all in him and a bite to your shoulder for him not to pound u out of your skin right then. The desk presses right at the bulge his dick forms in your stomach and u feel dizzy mumbling and bitching about how it hurts too much “Simon no its too big i cant do this its like i can feel it in my throat, fuckin hell look there’s a bulge in my tummy”

Taking his hand and placing it on the bulge u rest your head on his chest looking up shaking your head but he takes his fingers out of your mouth only to cover it fully with his hand and presses down onto the imprint of his dick while starts ramming it inside your tight walls at a bruising pace. If u thought it hurt before now youre drunk off the pain it fills u up so well you whine at the thought of him ever leaving u empty. Digging your fingers on his arm u just give in and helplessly try to reach for his thrusts. He’s kissing at your temple, whispering about how your cunts made for him. “Simon-“ “Im right there with u pretty just let go for me” holding onto his arm u whither, your back arching off his chest as u hide your face onto his neck, taking in his scent as you cum. Your second orgasm not as sweet and far more difficult than the first one just from the size of the man. He leaves no time to breathe “come here on your knees, fuckin hell” hes fisting his dick right at your face and u place your fingers over his wrist taking him in your mouth and onto the back of your throat as u swallow with difficulty causing him to whimper lowly dropping his head back his sweet perfect voice the only thing ringing in your ears as u taste him all over your mouth. He takes it out of your mouth patting your head and rubbing your cheek pulling u up gently onto the desk putting u in his shirt and jacket so u dont get cold from the sweat. You reach for him whining as he cups your face kissing your lips and eyes “U know not to piss me off i assume “ u giggle shaking your head as u kiss his palms hugging him and it makes him freeze up not sure how to react. He hasn’t gotten a hug since.. ever u could say really. He looks down at u and your big eyes are brightly looking right up at him making him kiss u and i mean really kiss u. Youve lost your breath when he pulls away and youre dazed so he helps u onto his back hitting the bathroom.

#simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw #call of duty

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thefiery-phoenix · 8 months

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YANDERE TAEHUN SEONG HEADCANONS (HOW TO FIGHT/ VIRAL HIT)

Words cannot describe how much I simp for this man, like please... it's ILLEGAL to be this fine and cue my unholy screeching fangirling and let's get into this...

Look, he might be an absolute jerk at times but hey, he's YOUR jerk. Which means he will care for you and make sure you're doing okay whether you like it or not. After the death of his friend Do-Un, he wanted nothing to do with feelings and emotions, he perceived them as a waste of time. That was what got his friend killed in the first place anyway, he simply couldn't afford to get attached to someone else after what happened. He remained reserved and introverted, with of course, his usual brash nature and crude insults

Despite his rough and tough exterior, he's not that cruel and heartless to just stand by and watch you get bullied and that's how the two of you met. You were a quiet shy little thing who mostly kept to yourself. Sometimes he liked watching you, even if it was something he'd never admit and a secret he would take to the grave. He finds it annoying how you always stick your nose in some or the other book all the time. He calls you a nerd, although endearingly as surprising as that is. You aren't exempt from his teasing and mockery either but when he sees you get bullied by some of the new transfer students in the class because of the "shitty pathetic excuse of a transfer programme" as termed and worded by Taehun, his gaze hardened and his fists clenched in his hands till they turned white

He hated and despised the way those idiots talked about you, how dare they? He just stormed over and did his usual 1440 kick and sent them spiraling to another dimension altogether. Of course, he wasn't done yet, he kept slapping them repeatedly and spoke "You ever talk shit about them like that again, I'll cut your tongue off and shove it down your bloody throat...", completed with a psychotic maniacal smile which undoubtedly sent shivers and chills down your bullies spines. Everyone knew he'd stick to his word and stay true to what he said and the very next second, they immediately fell at your feet begging you for forgiveness

You're basically untouchable now since you have him protecting you. Anytime someone he doesn't like approaches you, be it a male or female, he just gives them a death stare till they leave since they decided that their life was more important. Will keep calling you a dumbass and idiot at times but, endearingly. He likes it when you get flustered and embarrassed, you look adorable and cute with those bashful expressions of yours. Which will end up in him teasing you even more to get a rise from you

He loves pinning you to the wall and takes great pride in how helpless and powerless you are against him. He smirks when he feels you trying to push him away as he snickers in amusement "You tryna push me away? Feels like a baby kicking me". He will get you to do Taekwando with him because it's a way he can spend more time with you, as much as he's too stubborn to admit it. He starts becoming jealous and possessive of you as time passes and he'll become overbearing. He'll be like a shadow, constantly following you around and when you confront him about it, he'll make it sound so obvious about why he's following you and say that you're too clumsy and naive and can't take care of yourself

He wants you to rely on him. He wants you to cling on to him when you feel scared about something as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him as he tells you he's here for you. He has a heart too you know. As for his fangirls, he doesn't give a damn about them and you know that. He has eyes only for you. You won't be able to escape from him either since he's pretty influential and has a great sense of tracking people down. He will end up kidnapping you at some point when he sees you getting too close to someone else other than him, especially with that Hobin

It's not like you can go to his dad Hansu for help either, he knew about his son's possessive and obsessive tendencies towards you and he's equally possessive of you too. He's just glad his son found someone to be with him. Taehun wouldn't physically abuse you, he never harms someone that he loves but be ready for a lot of arguments though. He hates seeing you cry, he'll just sigh and call you a little crybaby as he pulls you close to him and apologizes softly for making you cry as he gently cradles you. He shows and reveals his soft side only for you

May the gods above have mercy on anyone who dares to mess with even a strand of hair on your head for he will make sure they spend the next few months of their lives strapped to an IV in a hospital. You aren't allowed to go anywhere without him anymore, you're too oblivious and naive, he's worried something might happen. He will get bashful and flustered for a few moments when you compliment his achievements in Taekwando till he tells you to shut it

If he catches you trying to escape, he will be mad but he won't take it out on you. This is where his manipulation tactics come in play, he'll keep messing with those dweebs you call friends till you admit you were in the wrong. He loves it when he kisses you on the lips, your lips are soft as he laces your fingers through his. He also likes it when you run your hands through his hair or just hold his hand, he adores how your hand is compared to his calloused one

All in all, he may be prickly but deep down he loves you. And yes, he has killed for you and will kill for you and perhaps even stalked the living daylights out of you without your knowledge...

#yandere how to fight #yandere how to fight x reader #yandere how to fight manga #yandere how to fight manga characters #yandere how to fight manga characters x reader #yandere viral hit #yandere viral hit characters x reader #yandere taehun seong #yandere taehun seong x reader #yandere taehun seong scenarios #yandere taehun seong oneshots #yandere taehun seong headcanons #yandere taehun seong imagines

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femd-archive · 1 year

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im not sure if your asks are open but can I request the vinsmoke brothers getting overstimmed or edged for hours until they’re shivering and sobbing?something in their ass and cock vibrating or just fingering them till they cry ? i rly wanna just put them in there place, i imagine since they don’t really experience emotions, them being overloaded with pleasure will ruin them so good ❤️

a/n: my asks are always open for thirst and requests! and sure :] i'll try my best to write about them, since i don't like them so much for everything they have done lol

You told ICHIJI that you were too tired to have sex that night, but would help him with his hard on with your hand if he still wants it. He accepted, taking any chance to feel your skin on his.

You lied on his chest, pumping his cock faster and faster, smiling and giggling at the way he whimpered while he squirmed under your touch.

"Do you like it, baby?" you ask with a teasing tone.

"Y-yes baby...don't stop" he demmanded, hugging you closer to him.

In matter of minutes, he camed for the first time in the night. His body relaxed against the matress, heavy breathing as he was trying to recover from his orgasm. Still, you saw that he was still hard, so why not keep helping him.

The yelp he let out mixed with the wet sounds your hand was making around his dick.

"W-what are you doing?!"

"Helping you, of course. I know a strong man like you can give me one more, right Ichiji?" you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

He couldn't even answer you, since his moans interrupted him as you started to play with the head.

In no time you had him cumming again, and once again you asked him for one more.

"Come on baby, be a darling for me and cum again?"

And you did that, again and again and again. You knew Ichiji wouldn´t be able to say no if his pride was on the table. You wanted him to show you how much he can take? He'll show you.

You lost count of how many times you had made him cum. 15? 20? You were having so much fun seeing the pool of cum in his stomach and how the tip have turned redder and redder with the past of time, you thought it even matched his hair colour.

You wouldn't be able to hear him unlees he touched your shoulder like he did, making you turn at him and see his pathetic state.

His glasses had fallen out of his face, revealing you his swollen eyes and the tears that kept flowing out of them; there was a thread of droll in one corner of his mouth that kept open, letting free the most pornographic moans you've ever heard of him.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn't made out what it was.

"What do you say, baby? Use your big boy words for me"

"No more...please! No more" he sobbed, "it hurts...hurts" he mumbled.

"It does?" you ask with a fake pout. "How bad. But I want one more, yeah? And I'll let you rest" you smile at him, leaving a kiss on his tear-stained cheek.

He let out a cry when he fells you move your hand over his swollen dick one again.

NIJI was over the moon when you told him you wanted to try some bondage, running over to the bedroom, already taking of his clothes and jumping in the bed, expecting you to bring on the ropes so he could tie you up.

"Turn around baby" you said, getting on the bed with him and not really waiting for him to turn around to start tying him up.

"Eh?" he could only say, noticing you were already done when he got out of his initial shock.

"There you go. You look so pretty like this" you giggle.

"I thought I was going to tie you up!"

"So what? You don't want me to pamper you?" you fake a pout, looking at him with doe eyes.

After arguing for a bit, he finally gave up. At the end he's still gonna have sex, so what's the big deal?

He saw how wrong he was once you putted a vibrating ring on his dick, locking him up at the same time the vibrations travelled all over his body.

"Take that off now!"

"Mmh? But I just wanna make you feel good babe, lay down and enjoy it" you smile devilish at him.

Niji's head was spinning, forgetting how many times you had already denied him his realase, turning off the vibrations or stopping jacking him off when he was so close to cumming.

"Please..." he begged on a broken voice, making you look at him. His face was covered in tears and some snot, while his strong body was shaking, waiting for the realase he needed.

"You really think you deserve it? You've been acting up in the dinner a few hours ago, and you know I don't like brats, right Niji?"

Oh he knew it, but his stupid pride won't let him apologize to you.

He endured a few hours more like this, finally breaking when you had denied him for maybe the 30th time.

"You would behave for me?"

"I will, I will!" he cried, all his face drenched in tears.

You know he was lying, but that's alright, that means you would have to do this all over again.

YONJI would do whatever you want him to as the simp he is. Want him on all fours for you? Weird, but okay!

"Oh" he exclaimed at feeling your fingers inserting slowly inside him, "a bit cold" he chuckled nervously.

"Relax baby, I'm gonna make you feel real good" your fingers runned through his green hair. "So good that you won't be able to speak" you mumbled, lowkey enough that he didn't even hear it.

And so, you milk him for hours. His body was shaking and wriggling all over the bed, but he stayed still with a simple smack on his ass and your command.

He cried when you pull out your fingers, shaking his ass to you to put them in again.

"My fingers hurt, darling" you explained, not that easily affected with his puppy eyes and the tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Please! I need you...need you so much" he started to babble. He had cum many times, but his cock was aching for another orgasm.

"Well then" you opened the nightstand compartment, taking out a dildo out of his. Yonji's eyes sparkled, "you're gonna ride this instead of my fingers. And since you wanna cum so much, you're not gonna stop until I decided that you have had enough. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am" he answered hurridly, taking the toy out of your hands and sticking it inside him in one go.

He fucked himself with both his hands until his arms started to hurt, then he started to ride it, cumming all over his body and the sheets.

"I-....can't. T-too..." he tried to speak, but he was too fucked out to form any big sentences. There was dry tears marks on his cheek from the many times he cried from the overstimulation.

"Mmh? Can't cum anymore?" you asked with fake compassion on your tone, exagereting a pout when you saw him nod. "Aww, well too bad baby, because I told you that you would stop when I tell you to" you kiss his cheek and leaned closer to his hear to whisper, "and I don't want you to stop"

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honeeslust · 3 months

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Satoru Gojo | you cryin?

🖤 inspo for this comes from that slutty gif of Satoru in the box. I know well all collectively had… thoughts… but couple that with the ‘you cryin’ and yea… lets go!

🖤 WC 4100+

Could you imagine falling in love with someone like Satoru? The man can process anything coming his way faster than it can even be perceived. This is except when it came to falling for you.

That being said, he's not going to baby you into the supernatural three ring circus that is his life. That would be arrogantly irresponsible.

As soon as he knew you weren't going anywhere, he made a point to teach you to fear the dangers of his world as he understood better than anyone the cost of bearing such a burden. One of the first things he made sure you understood was how to be wary of the places that gave off a any kind of bad vibes.

But... it wasn't like you set out for this... but you know what they say about the curious cat...

An uncharacteristically frantic Satoru is losing his mind when you don't make it home at your usual time. It really could've only been about 10 minutes past the time you were due to be home but at the moment, none of his thoughts were logical. Not when he could almost immediately intuit the danger you'd found yourself in.

... Somewhere else

You're bound by your wrists to something sturdy above your head. Your body is so weak you can't even pick your head up enough to make out what it is you're tied to. Even after jerking around with all your might, the chains retaining you hadn't so much as budged.

It was hopeless. And now your murky vision has to be betraying you. Your surroundings were moving in ways it shouldn't.

And was that... a man just now?

Your eyes swept the area around you to find nothing but the dark empty expanse staring back at you. Every ounce of your energy having mysteriously been sapped from your body. Defeated by the onset of fatigue, your head hangs between your shoulders.

Shit Satoru. I fucked up...

Yea. You did sweetheart.

A voice echoes out from somewhere nearby, but every direction you turn in is still just an endless sea of black. Panicked, your words wisp out of you shakily.

Wha-?..who are you?

I'm Mahito...

The disembodied voice calls out to answer you as he figure slowly emerges from the shroud of darkness ahead of you.

Thanks for making this easy for me.

Why the hell am I here Mahito?

Isn't it obvious? Satoru! He'll come running for you. And when he does well... he's no longer gonna be a problem for us.

Your chains rattle against the reinforcement as you struggle to turn away from the foreign hand now clutching your face in a harsh grip. The entity winks at you. His hand is hot on your face, hotter than it should be. It makes your skin crawl and you flinch away in disgust.

Don't fucking touch me.

His lip draws under his annoyingly perfect teeth, as he looks you over pleased with your choice of costume.

Hah! Quite a mouth you got on you little angel. If only I could get locked in here with you, Im sure I could make a devil outta you.

Tch. Ooh. If only. you snide teasing him with a pathetic pout before you spit right in his beautiful face.

Wait. What did he mean...locked ? As in.. inside?

God-fucking-damnit!

Mahito swings his powder blue locks over his shoulder, breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. He smears the wad of saliva from his face to lick it from his finger.

Fuck! Satoru's a lucky one.

You seem like you'd be so much fun.

Ah well. I'm sure you would've made a fine plaything. Its a shame I gotta leave you here now.

Too bad. So sad Mahito. Best be on your way, bitch.

Your body trembles, betraying the evil glare you aim in his direction. What he'd said before was beginning to sink in.

Locked in...

Fuck me!!

Mahito comes closer to you, making you flinch away.

I guess you're right. I'm sure he'll be here soon and I'm not trying to fight him...Even I know my limits.

He stoops in front of you, his bicolored irises flashing in delight as he reaches past your ear to play with the hem of your angel wing. Guess this is goodbye pretty one.

With that, retreats. Vanishing into the shadows leaving you stranded in the dreadfully cold loneliness. The accompanying darkness enclosing you doesn't help your nerves much either.

As if things couldn't get any weirder. A faint blue fog appears before you and seemingly moves toward you. It creeps closer and closer. Moving about unnaturally as it does so. A hand made out of bones materializes out of the cloud and then... more and more of them emerge. Entire skeletons. Swarming in around you until youre body is swallowed whole by the vapor.

...

Y/n......

Y/n. Wakeup.

Hmm? God Satoru what?

Baby. Wake up.

Your eyes flick open and you're ready to slap Satoru for waking you up before the sun when you didn't need to be.

But wait! This wasn't youre room, this wasn't even a place. You were as happy to see Satoru as you were horrified to see that you're still tethered to the chains from before.

You found quite a place to try and have a nap. Sweetheart.

You know I wasn't napping Satoru ... Now can you help!! you say yanking the chains.

Tsk tsk tsk. He admonishes with a shake of his head. I won't lie. This sucks

Yea it does. Help me outta these won't you.

Mmmm.

What do you mean mmm?

I mean... I did try and tell you....

You scoff rolling your eyes hating exactly how right he was. He told you. Time and time again. Halloween is the worst time to be out and about as a newly awakened sorcerer.

Ugh okay. Baby you made your point. You gripe putting on your best pout and jangling your chains in his direction. C'mon. Satoru let me outta this.

I don't think I will. Not until you answer me one thing...Why were you out here alone?

Because I wanted to be. I can handle myself just fine, thank you. You say proudly even though you knew that in your current predicament, you looked at least 2 sizes too small to for the big shit you talked.

Oh you can huh? He exclaims bearing a crooked smile down at you. But did you ever happen to stop and consider what I said about Halloween.

No. I didn't. You lie.

Immediately. You're met with a look of disbelief.

You don't huh...?

He cocks his head to the side. Leaning over you to jostle your chains.

... You comfortable like this sweetheart? He says rubbing the side of your face suggestively.

You roll your eyes. You know I'm not.

So then tell me why? You're a fucking danger magnet. It follows you wherever you go. You know and you pull this shit?.

Satoru recalls the moments he spent panicking when he couldn't get a read on your energy. And that was exactly what they had hoped for when they dangled the chance to save you in front of him. For the second time in his life, hes d walked into a trap.

He kneels on the ground in front of you, and arm draped across his thigh, the other caesses the side of your face. Why would you risk it y/n?

You stare back at him, too stunned by the vulnerable look in his eye to keep your attitude. Does it matter?

The hell are you asking me right now? Yeah y/n it matters to me that you put yourself in danger.

Awwww. Satoruuu. Were you worried? You sing songed out, teasing him.

His ears burned red.

Shut it. But yes. Obviously I was Sweetheart.

Fiiiine. Fine. You say giving him a small smile. But for real Satoru...You taking me outta this or not?

He glances up over your head, sizing up the length of your chains. Yeah. I will...Once I figure this out.

What?

Oh yea. Guess it seems this place was designed to keep me from using my abilities. So we're trapped here until the people out side can figure out how to get us out.

You're kidding!

Nope.

Fuck. Your voice shakes as the panicking kicks in. What in the actual fuck am I supposed to do now? You ask when you notice him looking down at you.

But wait Sweetheart. I can't lie. You look good in this position.

Tsk...Boy! Don't start. Baby you have to get me outta this.

What?....I'm allowed. I mean baby, you had me going crazy. And now well...I feel like I need to take advantage of this interesting little situation we find ourselves in. Gimme a moment to appreciate you like this.

You glare at your boyfriend. No way this angel eyed menace meant that.

No you creep. You're crazy Satoru. Cmon.

You're so annoyed with your boyfriend but there a glint in his eye as he's staring down at you in your vulnerable state. The depth of those ocean eyes could drown you a hundred times over and right now there was a storm brewing behind them. He was truly enjoying the sight of you, twisting so feebly as if you really wanted to deny this could and would happen. This situation was completely fucked. Sure. But damnit if it wasn't the stuff good girls who keep their heads stuck in smutty books would cream over.

No...You're not seriously considering....

Why not? Baby you're so fucking hard headed.

You laugh.. Yeah and...?

A hard head will make for a soft ass. Every. Fucking. Time Sweetheart.

Why did that send a sneaky little quiver right to that spot? Oh right, cause no matter how screwed you might be. It'd be worth it to let Satoru have his way with you. His mean side is his sexiest side.

Now you'd pissed him off. Sure. But Satoru figures why fight about it when you could fuck about it.

I like you like this. All that mouth on you. No where to run off to... Shit. Why didn't I think of this?

Your complexion ripens under his gaze. God. You're loving this aren't you?

You have no idea.

He lowers himself to your eye level, giving you that cocky smile of his but his piercing stare emanates something more than just frustration. Could it have been a little bit of relief you saw in his eye?

Before you could figure it out, he kisses you. Long and hard, his hands encompass your face as if he couldn't let you go. Your cheeks burn in the palm of his hands as his tongue rolls around your mouth, the strokes of his tongue resonating between your legs in repeated pangs pleasure. He breaks away, pressing his fore head against yours.

You make me crazy y/n you know that don't you?

But I thought you liked a challenge Satoru?

Fair enough. But... I don't know..

He skims a finger down the front of your blouse before he pulls his eyes back to meet yours.

... There is only so much a man can take sweetheart.

He tears the thin fabric away with ease making you yelp in response. You stomach tightens, flesh bared and prickling with goosebumps.

But...

Shhh now. I think you like making me like this. He quiets you, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

But Satoru I...

Any aht! Say the truth. It's just us here after all.

You're panting heavily staring at him with wide eyes.

Maybe... You hesitate, drawing your eyes to his lips, still rosy and wet from your kiss. Maybe it's fun to ruffle those perfect feathers of yours a little...

Is that right?

You shrug... Guess I can't help myself.

He slowly begins to reach his hand down to your waist, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as he does so.

The clatter of the chains reminds you where you are and for a moment, you question whether you can do this here.

I didn't mean to get snatched though. You call out in a weak attempt to make up for the stress you considered you might've put him through.

No you didn't... But here we are. Guess there's nothing else we can do except maybe this.

He tucks his fingers into the strap of your lingirie and snaps the tight band against your skin. You shiver, rattling the chains again.

Uh...Shouldn't we use our time more productively Satoru?

Yeah, I'm about to...Let me get these off you.

He tears at the suspenders keeping your wings attached and they fall the the ground. He rips open the white lacey bodice, leaving you in nothing but the tight thigh highs and gstring, and matching body harness up top

He's kneels before you, pressing his body between your legs. His palms brush softly up the sides of your thighs as he asserts himself over your body.

He glares down at you, his hand groping at the tented area of his pants.

I think it's time we make up don't you think.

You bring your foot up to his shoulder and nudge him away with a feeble kick. God, I cannot stand you.

I should be saying that to you.

Whatever.

Excuse me?

He leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

Whatever Sat— the sudden use of his tongue in your favorite spot catches you off guard.

... What was that now sweetheart?

He asks boasting a cheeky grin as he continues to kiss his way further down your body.

His lips halt their movement right at your navel, granting you only a single moment of clarity. Your eyes open to see him giving you a dangerous look.

Now about that apology.

Your eyes opened wide. What apology? I've done nothing wrong.

No? He asks now trailing his fingers along the wet edge of your panties.

I am.

Your sure? He says looping his finger around the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

Yes. I don-- ahhh you cried out tugging against your chains and tossing your head back.

His fingers lazily slip between your folds, effectively putting a stop to the sure tantrum you were about to throw.

He prods your clit with his thumb, biting down on his lip as he regards the pleasure overtaking your features.

I'm listening... He suggests slowly dipping his fingers inside.

Use your words baby. I'm gonna need that apology. C'mon. It's easy. Iiii—

He croons teasingly curling his finger inside and pulsing it right against the spot he knew would have your toes curling in no time.

Your legs squeezed together around his arm making him laugh aloud while adding another finger. He begins to pulse them inside you.

Fuuuck Toru...

Yea I know. Say it baby.

Damnit. He's too good at this.

I'm sorry...fuck baby, right there. You squeel in satisfaction, drool beginning to pool in your mouth as your core twisted tighter.

Hmmm. I'm not convinced.

Why don't you try again?

His fingers are rutting in and out of you.The warm enclosure wrings tight around them until you're spilling forth everything, mewling out how sorry you were.

He sets back onto his legs, looking down appreciatively at his little brat, trussed up and convulsing with pleasure when he gets an idea.

He lifts the hem of his shirt over his head a tosses them to the side. He reaches up somewhere over your head and you feel a yank on the chain. A sudden sound of shrieking metal fills your ears, jarring you back into your body.

Did he just???

Sato-?

You're dragged forward until your wrists are pinned into his chest, leaving you unable to unleash your barrage of verbal assaults at him.

You Fu-— your words are muzzled into his kiss and he groans, tightly grabbing the cusp of your ass in a grip that almost hurt. He punctuates the kiss with a sound smack to your rear.

He unlocks his lips from yours, and pushes against your shoulders, forcing a gasp out from your lips.

Satoru? You begged watching him wind the harsh metal chain around his fist. The metal grated against itself as he clinched it tight, giving the metal a yank until the steel bit down into your flesh.

You say your sorry Sweetheart...? Show me.

He was perfection. His slutty little waistline is accentuated by the way his hip jutted out to the he side. Your eyes dropped to the large print lying across his thigh and as mad as you were, your mouth watered.

He undoes his pants and lets them sag around his waist. He flips his dick out over the top and pumps himself slow.

Get it wet pretty girl... maybe I'll believe you. He says with a flick of your chain.

You bent forward, ass hiked up to his liking so he could palm your cakes like a basketball. You brought the swollen head of his dick between your lips, and moaned over him as his fingertips dug into the right spot of your skin.

Hes impressed his little angel doesn't immediately gag on his cock, hes fascinated even. You're so slutted out for him that you forget that he could've freed you at any moment.

Never mind that youre now trapped in this place with minimal hope of escaping. Your minds put all of that aside to focus on the singular object of your affection and the way he helps you along, hands free, he guides himself in and out of your mouth. Keeping a taut hold on your chain as you bobbed back and forth on your elbows. throating every inch of his cock like a glove.

Are you really sorry ?

Mmnmnnmmmngghgg

Ahh. baby... Teeth!

He shudders feeling your garbled apologies vibrating along the tight corner in the back of your throat where his length was now comfily housed.

Fuck y/n. You can do better than that can't you?

Lemme hear it? You sorry or not?

He's so mean about it. Fuck! it makes you wet. It makes you want to sacrifice your breath just to choke on him more.

His body tenses as all the blood rushes to the same spot. He bucks out of your mouth before he can release into the back of your throat.

You're still not making me think you mean it.

Don't you wanna show me?

I do! I meant it Satoru.

He places his fingers under your chin and presses his thumb against your puffy wet lips.

Yea?

A smile pulls at his lips. He believes you. But hes greedy for more of this. He knew that eventually he could fuck the act right into your hard headed ass.

Mhmmm. Alright. Guess I gotta fuck a proper apology outta you... Don't I?

Turn over!

You're body obeys before you've even registered what's happening. He knees your legs apart, pulling back on the chain to hear the way you yiped out. Somehow he's got you hunched over on your knees, your hands held back by your new leash.

Please Satoru.

Tsk. Oh sweetheart. You know thats not what I wanna hear.

I'm sorry baby...

Your knees are burning from all the time spent on them, but it doesn't matter. Your pussy glistens with your arousal for him and the wet hole is repeatedly clenching in wait. You need him as bad as the air in your lungs, maybe more.

The honored one slaps your ass. hard. The bite brings tears to your eyes.

Ahh. I'm sorry. Satoruu. Fuck.

Manners baby.

SLAP.

Baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Ohh god please. I need to feel you.

Your flesh stings with another sound slap to the other side causing a your walls to clench tight around nothing. Fuck! It aches so good that your toes curl.

He could feel the heat emanating from your body. He could even see the heavy glow of pleasure as it surrounds you. Even in this dark dank place youre golden aura shines bright in his all seeing eye.

He aligns himself and pushes a few prepatory nudges inside you. Tensing his jaw, he grumbles through clenched teeth until he's buried the full extent of himself inside you.

You welcome the stretch with a drawled out moan, thank you.

Thats my girl.... Won't save you though.

The emphasis of his words are punctuated with a sharp thrust forward.

Ssss, starting to feel like you sorry angel. Keep it up and maybe I'll let you out of this. He brags yanking back as he brought his hips back against you ass to make you sink your nails into the terrain beneath you.

He moves back and forth. again and again... Each time plunging deeper until you were squirming away. He's so deep you can taste the blisssul release creeping up on you. Its sweeter than nirvana, the feeling of him colliding somewhere inside that makes you forget what you're even sorry for.

He's bullying your cunt with a brutality you've never felt. He's beside himself, watching his cock disappearing inside you again and again. You're unable to flee from the shock as he's tugging on your new chain leash.

I want to protect you.... you need to let me!

Ok. Yes Satoru yes. You're whining, inching yourself forward for a moment of relief. There's just absolutely no way your body can take the pleasure he's forcing upon you.

Awww baby, quit your running. You wanted this didn't you? You like to ruffle these perfect feathers? Thats what you said right?

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you wail, twitching pathetically as he draws back and returns with a resounding pound that all but knocks your lights out. You're blissfully cock drunk, the wetness leaking down out over the base of his cock.

It's like he's saying it over and over and over.

...love... you...

... protect.... you.

You can't move, you can't think, you can only feel him fucking his frustration right into you.

Let me... baby....Am I understood?

Yes Satoru. Yes.

Lemmie hear you! Say it again!

Satoru—- Please... Ohhh I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, you scream out letting that dick turn you into groveling mess.

Satorus entire body quivers at the sight of your ass clapping against his skin as he picks up the pace.

Are you? I cant hear you.?

Say that shit like you mean it!.... Say it!

He's being mean and he knows it. But he needs you weak. He needs you broken. He needs you to quit putting yourself in harms way because he wouldn't know what to do without you.

everything you put him through resonates with the pleasure hes giving. You're right where he wants you, so his palm slaps harshly across your ass, his continued unmerciful thrusts knocking loose every screw in your brain.

Baby I am. I swear. Im so so so so sorry!

He yanks, dragging you back against him hard. He traps your arms in a tight lock behind your back and slowly rolls his hips to etch himself deeper. Imprisoning you in his arms, he growls lowly in your ear.

I don't believe you.

He forces you back over, this time pushing your chest to the floor. You're vibrating on the brink of an insidious rapture. Skin clapping against skin. Him tuggeong on your leash to to keep that arch the way he likes it. His pace is unrelenting. Like he was dead set on making you feel how crazy you made him.

You beg and you beg feeling the sloppy trails of arousal leak down the inside of your thighs. You'll say anything, do anything, BE anything for him. He has to know that. But still, he's unrelenting.

What's left of your voice creaks out in a whine.

So so so so sorry daddyyyy ohhhhh.

The moniker spills from your lips making him jolt with pleasure, spilling all kinds of his honored elixir into your trembling mess of a cunt. You're so full of him that your entire body spasms.

Daddy huh?

He likes it. It has a ring to he didn't know he needed to hear. Your clenched so tight he cant pull out. Fresh hot tears are running down your face and you look over your shoulder too distraught with your shattering to even speak to him.

He's gasping for the breath he takes. Beyond satisfied with your apologyas he blinks away the stars in his eyes. a wicked grin stretches across his lips when he sees the tears streaming down your face...

Wait!!. he chuckles, curling a portion of the the chain around either of his hands. He snaps the links and pulls your pleasure riddled body to him.

He clutches your chin between his fingers, and grins.

You cryin'??

@littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @biscuitsngravie @crescentmoontsuki @blkkizzat @thecookiebratz @residentfromnowhere @i-literally-cant-with-this @arlerts-angel

#smut oneshot #smutxanime honeeslust #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #jjk season 2 #jjiscenes #gojo satoru x you #satoruxblackreader #satoru x reader #you cryin?

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