#🥀 anon

[eyesxxyou]

imagine hobie js fingering fem/ftm!loser reader

listen ik the idea is plain but think ab it with his rings

he loves the way they begin to shine a bit more once he’s nearly knuckle deep inside of reader

and when they climax all over the cool metal

EEEHEHAHEHHEHAHAJEKLELWPWPPEPEPE IM EVIL

🥀

He loves comes to you when his rings need a bit of shining. "The rings are lookin' a bit dull, luv. Min' helpin' me out shinin' 'em?" You immediately know what that means. He obviously cleans them with soap and water before hand, makes sure they're as clean as possible to reduce the risk of you getting an infection.

Hobie sits your naked body in his lap, back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder, and parts your legs. He rubs your pussy a little, to coat his fingers and get you wet enough to take them. He starts with one, easing it down to the ring until the cold metal sits flush with your cunt and you shiver.

He adds one more, maybe two if he can work you open enough. Hobie fingers you nice and slow, "tryna get a real good shine on 'em, huh?" Your sweet, little hole tries to suck him in. "Greedy, aren'cha?" He says while massaging the little soft spot where your sweet spot lies.

Hobie fingers you until you're creaming on his fingers, wetness dripping down his knuckles, making a mess. His rings are more than shined enough but he keeps going because he can.

[artificialbreezy]

AHHH MAYBE SUM SMUTTY NOAH TEXTS?????? MMMM I WILL EAT THAT SHI UP 😭🫶🏻

-🥀

👀 i’m screaming over here, i hope you are too

[lovelaetter]

“save me rosé in a frustrated marriage with a boring husband who wants to have fun in life again, save me 😢” you and that anon might have cooked…

imagine hér starting an affair with you because of how frustrating the boring sex life she has with her husband gets; so tired of faking her orgasms and him not being able to fuck her properly :(

you come into the picture and quite literally change her life. her just being so timid trying new things she couldn’t do with her husband, letting you use her because it just feels “so good”. you who obviously doesn’t resist, even though you should because she’s your boss and you could lose your job, but when she looks at you so naively and so desperate to cum with hér doe eyes, you physically can’t stop your desires.

you take such good care of her, but i’m obsessed w being so rough with her—GOD. groping, manhandling, dumbifying her? damn near breaking her in half. taunting her at every chance you get and saying something silly like “why don’t you answer the phone, baby?” when her stupid husband calls while you give her orgasm after orgasm, leaving her (and her office) a mess, sometimes leading to her passing out, your suit and her bare thighs covered in her slick.

just wanna shove her pretty face and pin her naked against the floor to ceiling windows of her big ass office while you take her from the back, telling her that you’re “showing the whole city how good you are for me,” while she’s reduced to sobs and mewls.

you are so mean to hér but she wouldn’t change a thing about it because the sex is too good 😌 but she swears her husband is a good man and would never hurt him! she swears!

(extra thought: g!p you threatening to fuck a baby in her just to spite her husband bc you’re a little shit. plus leaving hickeys in the most inconvenient spots for her to hide)

🥀, who will be taking a long needed break from the rosé brainrot and reconnect with nature after this <3

anon, i don’t have anything to add to this like… the SIZE of your brain !!

the bit about getting her pregnant specifically is making me spiral, thinking about her begging for you to not cum inside her and at same time wrapping her legs around you to not let you go and having to deal with your cum sliding down her thighs after, scared because her skirt is not that long and she thinks everyone can see the mess between her legs :(

[fatuismooches]

Dottore being jealous over plushies is real >:)

Imagine: reader gets so fed up with Dottore refusing to sleep and spending nights in front of his researches and experiments that you have no option, but to make... *dramatic drumroll* Plushttore! Smol plushie that's exactly like him!!

After 100 years just a few days his body finally gives up and he goes to bed, wanting to cuddle you-- only to see you happily cuddling his plushie?? Why would you do that when original is right here :<

So, no, he's not responsible for disappearance of that plushie.. definitely. Most likely.

But seeing your sad, puppy eyes he supposes he can return it, only if you promise you'll love the original more than it

Reader eventually makes plushies of all Dottore's segments. They're so cute!!

-🥀, waiting for my Arlie plushie to come

SOBBINGGGG!!! You know, you think yourself a pretty patient person, after all, you have to be when you're dating the one and only Doctor but, there are times when even your patience wears out. No matter how much you try and beg to convince him just to spend even a mere hour sleeping with you, he won't budge! You've pulled out every tactic in the book, nothing is working. Fine then! While you're grumpily cuddling your blankets and pillows, still a bit empty from the lack of warmth that should be coming from your husband who's supposed to be right next to you... you get a grand idea! If you don't have a Dottore, just make a mini one! The idea is fantastic, you'll be able to cuddle it 24/7, it'll be so cute and you'll be able to squish its cheeks all the time.

Meanwhile, Dottore is left wondering why all of a sudden you stopped bothering him for hugs and cuddles. Admittedly it bothers him more than he wants and after a bunch of failed experiments, he gives in and goes to find you. Only to see... an imposter taking his rightful place next to you. A plushie, of all things. At first, he actually finds it a bit amusing. Were you so desperate that you needed to make this thing to satisfy your longing for him? Very funny, dear, now move it aside so he can cuddle you. But you're still cuddling it even though he's right here? Are you serious right now?? Why would you settle for an inanimate copy when he's right here? I find this so funny because Dottore knows he is a possessive man, but he will never admit it if he's jealous, especially not over a damn plushie of all things. Well, this is his punishment for ignoring you, his darling lover for so long! >:(

Yes, Dottore is a plushie stealer. Actually, he's a stealer in general, he steals anything that occupies too much of your attention whenever he wants it. Like, when he's not around go ahead and indulge!! But when he's all grouchy and in need of attention, whatever is drawing your focus away from him will be confiscated (he will return it when he's satisfied by you)

All the segments' plushies are organized on your bed every day and it's super cute. You also made a plushie of yourself for Dottore as well for him to keep! (He admires your handiwork but claims that such things are not for him... yea sure he keeps the thing on his desk and sometimes gives the plushie deathly squeezes when he's bored.)

[darkbluekies]

"He will find a permanent marker and write his name all over your face shoulders, back, arms, stomach and legs."

...

Or he could just bite me......biting works 👉👈

....I'm going to be washing this off forever, aren't I? ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

🥀

Earlier ask

He stands up, walking out of the room, up the stairs. He finds you sitting in bed with a grin on your face and a book in your hand.

"Fun little stunt you did", he says, closing the door. "My turn."

"I'm not letting you borrow my lipstick", you say.

He smirks. "No need."

You blink. "What?"

In a matter of seconds, you feel his teeth against your skin, not enough to cause any actual pain, but for you to flinch. You grab his shoulders, trying to push him off.

"Hey!" you protest. "That's not fair! That hurts!"

"Oh yeah?" Silas scoffs with a smile, looking up at you tauntingly. "Hurts? I don't believe that."

"Don't bite me. It leaves marks."

"What about the lipstick stain then? Didn't that leave a mark? Hm? Stay still now and let me practice my art."

You can't help but scoff and smile. You'll win round 2 though, and that time you won't use lipstick ... you'll dip your hands into ink and cover his body with your hand marks.

And he'll use a knife.

[heartdiluc]

ALHAITHAM x amab reader

requested from 🥀anon!! feral alhaitham behaving the way he did when he set off the divine knowledge capsule

cw: explicit nsfw, dubcon, degradation, anal penetration, dacryphilia, no plot, rough, unprotected sex, hair pulling, ooc alhaitham (extra mean lol)

[⚠️] read dni info and warnings before proceeding

alhaitham keeps his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing down to make you arch your back. he keeps you still while he’s forcing his thick cock into your hole. you can’t help but gasp at the feeling. you let out a choked sob of Alhaitham’s name before

��don’t tell me you’re crying already,” alhaitham scoffs. he brings his hand down to hold your face and tilt it up to force you to look at him. alhaitham, always curt and sparing of words, only muttered out a “pathetic” while holding back from laughing at your teary eyes and flushed face.

he lets go of your face, instead bringing his hand to hold your wrists together behind your back. he’s fucking you hard into his mattress. all of his vile words and the way his cock hits so deep and brushes against your prostate with each thrust are nearly enough to push you over the edge. your cock twitches at the feeling of your climax approaching; this of course catches alhaitham’s attention. “such a fucking slut.. you’re seriously getting off on this?” alhaitham taunts before bringing his hand to your hard and leaking cock.

“alhaitham—! fuck please haitham…” you whimper out without thinking. he titters before muttering out, “go ahead and cum for me like a good little slut..”

and without anymore encouragement, you let go, spurting cum onto your stomach and bedsheets as you scream alhaitham’s name.

“don’t think you’re getting off that easy.. i’m not quite finished with you yet”

[purity-in-blood]

On Your Knees For Salvation

Minors don’t interact! This is 18+ and I beg of you to heed the warnings

Notes-I got a very, very carried away but this was such a blast to write! There were so many routes I could go with this particular scene. Either way I really hope you like it! If there’s anything else you’d want me to write based on the shooting don’t hesitate to send it in.

Tate Langdon x female reader

Trigger warnings: Heavy mention of school shooting, mention of religion (derogatory), foul language, forced worship, superiority/God complex, authoritative kink, dacryphilia, degradation, choking, biting, rape/non-con, loss of virginity, voyeurism, blood kink, gun play, slight knife play, throat fucking, boot worship, dumbification

Tate Langdon walked through the halls of Westfield with practically a bounce in his step. He knew all too well the stares he’s currently getting will soon transform into terror once it’s the right time. For the past 6 weeks he’s fantasized about this very moment and played around with every scenario imaginable. In his mind, this will kickstart a revolution that’ll help purify the world plagued with sinners and a controlling government. Today is one Tate wholeheartedly looked forward to—a cool autumn day that’s perfect for hiding a gun under a trenchcoat, worn many times already with this uniform.

He began shooting in one of the hallways closest to the cafeteria so they didn’t have a clear exit from there. With each shot he relished in the way there’s always a different reaction—a scream, cursing, trying to keep running which only prompted a second bullet to enter. Tate deliberately steps on a wounded student while moving through the carnage, he noticed them crawling and thought to place a boot onto their back, keeping them in place. He took aim at their neck before pulling the trigger even as they tried pleading. The blood splatter wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest, he sucked in a breath and continued walking as the sight and smell of crimson threatened to overwhelm him. Pools of blood, binders and parts of flesh were scattered as well in a way that all seemed like a horror movie set. He violently kicked at a binder in his way and send papers all over, laughing at how everything so easy fell into place. This was only the start of his wrath on those he deemed unclean. Tate had this hunch you’d be hiding studying in the library today so that’s his next destination. There’s no rush after all.

Today I was with my one of best friends, Stephanie, studying for some upcoming English test we forgot about last night. The session together went smoothly until there was this strange popping noise. It made studying far more difficult once tension spread throughout the room an hour later.

I heard what was happening before realizing the dire situation as the entire school ran through the hallway. Screaming was soon accompanied by gunshots which immediately sent me into fight or flight as a student burst through the door. Everyone turned their head as he barricaded it with one of the heavy chairs. I recognize him, Kevin, a childhood friend I’m close with to this day.

“Somebody’s shooting up the school! He’s just shooting people.”

It was like the air had been absorbed from my lungs. My first thought is to run toward him and check if he’s been shot. There’s a noticeable amount of blood on his shirt and skin, black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. But thankfully there didn’t seem to be any visible flesh wounds.

“Do….do you know who it is?”

I fidgeted with the pendant at my neck, the only symbol of my faith that’s on me at all times. I don’t go to services regularly but that didn’t mean I was banned from praying. I’m pleading to our Lord to protect us from the shooter. Silently begging for this nightmare to end as quickly as it started. I hoped against all odds someone heard.

“I-I don’t know. I couldn’t get a good look at his face. He just…shot Mark Kingston right in front of me, blew his brains out.”

The description alone made my stomach churn but it couldn’t compare to what Kevin must’ve seen. He then grabbed my arm as Stephanie joined us behind the very last row of bookshelves. If need be, we might have a chance at scrambling for the tables closest to our current spot.

The three of us held our breath as each shot rang louder and the barricade rattled violently. Over and over the shooter tried to enter. Every kick was with more vigor than the last, making the hair on my neck stand on end. At last, the chair is sent across the room with such force—smashing into the librarian's desk and scattering everything on it to the ground—that everyone cried out before silence settled once more.

The door slowly opens and we get a full view of the shooter. He’s in all black, holding a shotgun in both hands but the thing that chills me to the bone is the cheerful tune he’s whistling. It’s one I’ve heard multiple times in the hallway enough to where I could whistle it myself from memory. I would’ve found it endearing but now it’s as if death taunts us.

He starts from the opposite side of the library but that doesn’t make things any better. Even if we could run for the exit it wasn’t likely we’d make it out alive. He shot Kyle, the lead jock, who curled himself into a ball under a table while begging for his life. Even though I should be looking away my eyes were glued on the horrors unfolding.

There’s another gunshot but clearly the next victim wasn’t dead. Melissa had started crying which only seemed to amuse Tate. He looks down at her with contempt like she was an insect he wished to crush. My hand went to my necklace and I lowered my head in prayer when he finally spoke.

“Quit your bitching! It’s not like I hit a vital organ or anything.”

He then moved onto his new victims, 2 frightened girls who somehow got the same shotgun blast—they were hugging tightly when he fired. The smallest—Cassidy—flew backwards from the impact as the other gasped in pain. He lifted Aileen’s chin with the barrel and her lips parted as if to speak. His other hand went to her cheek to thumb away a tear before lowering close.

“You must understand I’m taking all of you somewhere safe. This isn’t just about revenge. I prepared for this noble war.”

Tate brushed his lips against hers so gently they could be mistaken for lovers despite the circumstances. Luckily for her, the trigger wasn’t pulled and he backed off. Once he’s out of sight Aileen brought her knees up and curled in on herself. Trying to block out everything going on.

Tate resumed whistling as he casually walked among the shelves but we hurried toward the table when he was distracted. Although I was last to move. Stephanie clung to me while I attempted to comfort her and Kevin tried shielding us the best he could.

Somehow, it appears he’s looking for a specific person from how calm he is.

Another crying girl caught his attention and he didn’t hold back—once near her table, Tate kicked a chair and crouched in order to get a direct angle of her. They’re now face to face. Tate’s balancing his weight on the balls of his feet while holding the shotgun level to her heart. She started begging, mentioning a desire to go home as he leaned even closer. Yet again he showed tenderness toward a victim by brushing tears away, cupping her cheek. He’s staring at the girl almost with pity.

“I’m taking you to salvation. Are you ready to be set free?”

She managed to choke out a “Yes”—likely hoping to appease the shooter—which prompted him to lick his lips before firing. There’s a spray of blood and a ragged hole where her heart had been. He cursed under his breath and stepped over her crumpled body, deliberately placing one foot after the other into her open wound. Such a display almost made me gag.

“Oh God. Why is this happening?”

Stephanie whispered close to my ear and I gave her a gentle squeeze. This close, I felt her heart racing against my own chest. There wasn’t an explanation for any of this besides bullying. Or maybe it was something related to his home situation. I knew their household is dysfunctional but I hadn’t once thought of that being the cause of murderous intent.

Simon, the first to be injured, was attempting to call for help. Tate immediately changed direction, leaving bloody footprints as he did so toward the librarian’s desk—nearest to the exit—where the boy lay with his hand crushed underneath a computer.

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

He said it nonchalantly and with a smile like there’s plenty of time to be had. The shotgun is pointed straight at his jaw before the shells rip through him. Blood paints the wall after Simon goes limp and Tate calmly wipes at his face to remove the splatter.

“His face! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Aileen was sobbing hysterically now but is paid no mind. He moved back to the rows of bookshelves and started violently knocking books off in an attempt to scare anyone from their hiding place. The few shots were far closer than expected and we huddled together in the cramped space. Expecting to be shot then and there.

“Pathetic bitch. Get up!”

There's a sound of hurried footsteps and struggling, at first I thought he went over and grabbed Aileen. Until the female spoke. It was one of the injured cheerleaders, Melissa, who I didn’t know all that well but I’m aware of the fact she isn’t afraid of speaking her mind. I both admire that courage and fear for her in this moment.

“That’s enough Tate! You’re not saving anyone by shooting up the school. Honestly, this is the most obvious cry for help I’ve ever seen. I almost feel sorry for you.”

“You think I’ve done enough? I’m just getting started! Well that’s cute, at least I don’t feel the need to vomit after a big meal. I also know you’re the sluttiest cheerleader we have. I’m doing something that should’ve happened a long time ago. You know, I’d make you pleasure me but I have someone…more pure I’ve had my eye on.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when saying that last sentence and it nearly froze my blood. Surely he didn’t mean who I thought. There’s a thud, a gasp from Melissa that almost sounds like choking and then his boots are the only noise heard.

Suddenly, he turned on his heels and it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach when I saw his bloodstained combat boots appear in front of me. Tate Langdon knelt so we’re eye level, it’s disturbing how slowly he did so and the fact his gun is placed over his thighs. Just from body language it was easy to see the enjoyment he got from this.

“I’ve got one question for you, doll. Do you believe in God?”

That voice, oh that voice is dripping with a type of gentleness Tate rarely shows to anyone. It made bile further rise in my throat when he jabs at my religion. The answer is as clear as day since he asked what rested at my throat during prom. It’s likely he just wanted to see me squirm.

“No. I-I don’t kno—yes. Yes, I—“

I couldn’t understand why I tried appeasing this demon in human form. Though it seemed he waited for me to say “yes” before yanking me—by the throat—from my friends’ arms. Someone grabbed at my legs and monetarily played tug of war as I thrashed. Trying to get myself out of his iron grip but it proved useless. I begged, kicked and screamed as he dragged me to some tables. But it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why huh?”

He dropped me so I’m flat on my ass. I looked up while Tate reloaded his weapon, placing the shells between his teeth and flashing me a smile. This sadistic, dominant side is one I never imagined a boy like him to have. But maybe you can’t truly know someone until moments like these. He’s quick to cock his gun with a smirk, waiting for my answer.

“Because my parents raised me that way…”

“Why don’t you show me then? Start cleaning my boots. Show your devotion.”

My heart beat like a hummingbird and I was afraid it might burst through my chest. However, if it’s my time to die then so be it.

I sank to my knees in front of him once he leaned onto the table and lifted a boot toward my face. My stomach is in knots as I carefully sweep my tongue over the sole, into each crevice there may be drying blood. Even the leather on its entirety got a nice touch up. I didn’t stop until I knew there’s not a speck of blood or dirt left and I repeated this until Tate’s other boot was like the first. By then, all I could taste is blood and whatever filth was on the bottom. I mutter one last prayer under the disguise of wiping my lips, attempting to scoot back.

He grabbed for the collar of my shirt and hauled me up so my feet dangle inches off the ground. Those dark eyes of his are so dilated that the brown is almost nonexistent. I can even see my reflection in them and it confirms my assumption of being caught by the Devil.

“He won’t be able to save you. I’m right here, I am your God. Aren’t good girls supposed to be on their knees for their savior when praying?”

“Shut up Tate! You don’t know anything about religion and you certainly don’t know mine!”

That’s when I moved faster than he’s able to comprehend, my feet shot out and struck between his legs, that certainly got a reaction of cursing and dropping me once again.

I immediately went for the shotgun, trying to tear it from his grasp but he whipped it upward right when I had the advantage. It struck my jaw with such force teeth rattled and I feared some would fall out. Tears filled my eyes but I stayed defiant, rushing toward him again but this time he landed a blow to my head. Before I knew what happened, I’m dizzily lifting my head to see Tate executing yet another classmate then heading my way. Boots thudding with each step.

His attitude is on full display by kicking a chair forward, sitting right in front of me. I’m muttering prayers once the overwhelming dizziness goes down enough to where I form coherent thought. I gasp and try prying the hand pulling me on my knees but soon realize metal at my temple.

“Hey Kevin. Did you know your little girlfriend is a filthy cock slut? She’s given me blowjobs in the bathroom more than once. Hopefully she didn’t kiss you on the lips afterwards.”

I glanced at Kevin who’s staring at Tate with such rage that if looks could kill, he would be dead already. Tate however, appears rather smug at the reaction and to further prove his point starts undoing his belt. My face paled at the realization and I settled my eyes on the man currently leaned over me. The grip on my hair tightened once I turned my face away, trying to get as much distance as possible.

“Oh don’t tell me. You’re shy to suck me off in front of your boyfriend but not when it’s just us? And here I thought an audience would only arouse you more.”

Tate forced my head downward but even then I wouldn’t allow him entrance. His anger surges and he’s off the chair in a second to push his pants further down. Fully revealing his hardened cock in all its glory. Tate found this situation quite amusing, especially since the girl below him proved unwilling. It only turns him on even more knowing she didn’t want this too.

“Open your mouth, slut. Or would you prefer to have it blown off like his?”

The barrel traces the line tears had gone and stopped right under my chin, in the exact spot where Simon was blown away. I really couldn’t say no or else he’d end my life. Reluctantly, I licked my lips to moisten them, opened my mouth and he immediately slipped inside.

His gun returned to my forehead as a constant reminder that at any moment he could pull the trigger. He’s enjoying every second of this and there wasn’t anything we could do to stop him.

Tate bobs my head along his dick in such a way that each thrust makes me gag. It wasn’t much different from our time in the bathroom but at this moment he didn’t make sure I’m comfortable. Sometimes, Tate would ask if I needed a break or if he should slow down. But this is relentless. My already aching jaw felt as if it might snap at any moment but otherwise I relaxed as much as possible. Every movement of Tate’s hips forced me to take every inch of his thick cock. My tongue moved across shaft to tip, hoping to seem genuine in my effort to please. I felt the barrel slide roughly against my hair as he let out a sigh.

“You go down just like Holy Mary but this time I’m not on a cross. And you won’t be a virgin for much longer, little miss Mary.”

From that insulting comment I dug my fingernails into his thighs hard enough until Tate yanked my head back, getting a better angle that allowed him even deeper. His tip continues hitting the back of my throat with every thrust and I traced each vein with my tongue, fighting the urge to bite him. The only noise in the room was of me sucking him off. No matter the humiliation I kept my eyes on him even as tears distort his face.

I could feel the oncoming orgasm from the way his pace became uneven and it wasn’t long until he shot a load down my throat. After swallowing each drop, he pulled me off and it was a relief having air back in my lungs. The first few breaths I managed were coughs, my throat felt sore and uncomfortable from what occurred.

The fight in me hadn’t vanished so easily.

When Tate glanced arrogantly—for a few minutes too long—at Kevin I grabbed the nearest book and slammed it into his face. It seems I caught him entirely off guard and that mistake is all I needed. He threw his gun on the table and was about to lunge forward.

I suddenly had a burst of confidence, practically throwing myself over the table to grab it before Tate could. I avoided his grasp and backed away, my hands shaking while I lifted the heavy firearm and aimed at his heart.

“My patience is wearing thin. Doll.”

He quickly advanced on me and didn’t hesitate to press his heaving chest against his own weapon. His hand went for the middle then to mine upon seeing my confidence quickly waver, my finger soon slipped from the trigger. God damn it, I wouldn’t be any better than Tate if I did this.

I took in his appearance, bloody-faced from a possibly broken nose and those eyes burned into mine. He’s completely different from the boy I met on my first day of school. The person before me is tuned for the hunt.

“Tate please—“

We’re toe to toe but it’s clear he’s using our height difference to intimidate. I’m pinned between him and the wooden table without a way of escaping. It was my fault after all but either way I had no choice.

“It’s Sir to you. It’s Yes Sir for you! Didn’t your parents raise you to respect authority? I surely hope you don’t behave this way in church.”

I could feel the anger radiating off Tate in waves. He twisted my wrist hard enough I thought I heard bones snap and the gun is ripped from my grasp. It’s discarded immediately and his hands were around my throat in a warning squeeze.

Yet again I tested my diminishing boundaries even as I courted death. Each time my religion is mocked it’s like a physical slap to the face.

“You haven’t the right to be called as such! You’re just acting out in an attempt to gain control of your life when your childhood had none.”

This had been the wrong thing to say.

His free hand went to his belt to produce a switchblade that sliced through my panties. I certainly regret my choice to wear a skirt today, my thighs clenched together in a feeble effort to cover myself from him. I felt fingers trailing up my shaking legs that stopped at the hip. At that, I pressed myself into the table to avoid his icy touch which seemed colder than normal.

“I’m warning you bitch. After I’m finished with you, you’ll wish I had blown your brains out. Why don’t you beg for it? Beg for me to pop your cherry. I mean…I doubt someone like you has experience when it comes to sex.”

Tate’s voice had dropped to a threatening tone and there’s a sudden pulling sensation at my throat. He managed to yank my necklace off and toss it aside even when I caught hold of it momentarily. I couldn’t help the sob that came upon having my religion physically stripped by the Devil. I looked straight at him and said what’s expected past the lump in my throat.

“Ta—Sir. P-please take my virginity. Fuck me like the slut you say I am. I’ll even worship you as…my..my God.”

He slicked his fingers with spit and his own blood and brought them to my cunt after forcing my legs apart. Trying to provide enough wetness. Tate knew it took great effort for those words to slip past my lips so it’s why he entered without hesitation. I cried out from his first thrust that forced my body further into the table, arching my back when a hand slipped under my shirt to harshly fondle my breasts.

“Mmm…am I exciting you already doll? You know, I’ve heard virgins get wet the fastest. It would be terrible for your boyfriend if you’re a lying whore.”

The twisted smile on his face only widened once I truly started to cry. He showed no mercy in taking something we both knew I wished to keep until marriage. I wrapped my arms around his back, clawing at the fabric while my insides ripped at his invasion. It only provided more lubrication as even more blood coats his dick with each harsh snap of his hips. The pace is bruising as Tate buries himself balls deep and soon enough there’s a fire burning in my core. A sensation I tried denying even as this started feeling really good. The hand still at my throat tightened to where I couldn’t get enough air, my vision wavered but his laughter was distinct.

“Tell me, did you ever finger yourself to the thought of me after our sessions? I thought of fucking you like this for quite some time.”

His voice lowers to almost a whisper that’s a strange contrast from the dominant behavior earlier. I managed a nod, tears continue rolling down my cheeks when a moan gave my arousal away quicker than intended.

The pressure momentarily vanished to allow an opportunity to answer.

“Yes Sir. I’ve also imagined what you’d feel like inside me. I often fantasized about it.”

I ran my fingers through his slicked back hair once our foreheads came together in a show of mock intimacy. The sound of skin against skin is so disgustingly exciting, laughter rings in my ears as does the gunshots while he choked the life out of me. His intense, soulless eyes captured my gaze and I knew then he saw everything. My legs shook despite not fully standing which promoted him to slip an arm under my waist. Making it so there’s no distance between us.

Before this situation happened the few of us alive had stifled any noise that might have attracted the shooter. Now I can hear sobbing and prayers all around us. For Tate, this only made him want to fuck her harder and force her to show everyone she’s actually enjoying it.

Tate groaned when my walls clenched around his cock but he didn’t let up on chasing his own orgasm. Unfortunately my first time is mixed with pain and pleasure as my eyes rolled into my head. It feels as if I’m floating when my body suddenly jerks forward but my only thought is to feel him cum. My legs came around his waist when Tate hits a spot that nearly unraveled me.

“Please Sir…”

“Please what? You’ve got to use your words sweetheart.”

His voice is sickeningly gentle. His breath further heats my skin when he laughs into my neck at my desperate tone. Tate shifts our weight so I’m sitting further in his lap, yet another moan escaped at the change of position. The lack of oxygen clouded my mind and to his delight I’m bouncing on his cock like a whore. He’s stretching me to my limit with each thrust that forced his thickness deeper than I thought imaginable. I sharply pulled at Tate’s hair in an attempt to encourage him to speed up the pace.

“Please, please allow me to cum. I need to, Sir. I’m just a vessel to be used by a God such as you.”

“That’s right. Fuck, you’re so tight. You really are a slut after all and an unfaithful Christian. I’ll show you who’s God.”

Those words muttered into my skin are like poison though my body told a different story entirely. Each spot he touched felt ablaze. I felt awful for subtlety moving my hips against the very person who took the lives of our classmates just a few feet away. Tate is by no means a God though continues to act as such. The only authority he has is due to the uniform and gun.

I couldn’t help but consider how good he feels inside, his dick hitting a sweet spot that makes me fasten my legs tighter around him, coaxing him to go even harder.

“I want you to say it. Say ‘You own me Sir. You are my God.’”

Tate’s fully aware he’s being watched fuck her senseless and the fact she’s submitting is almost too good to be true. Another sadistic grin spread across his lips at the thought of what’s to occur when she’s swept to the hospital. At night, he often fantasized about this very moment, raping a girl such as this one before committing suicide. The crying and praying—hers and their classmates—only made him harder. And that she fought back. Tate’s looking into her eyes while she straddles him, her face is flushed and eyes half-lidded with arousal.

“Ah…you..you own me Sir. You are my God.”

My fate was sealed then and there. A few sharp movements were all it took before Tate fully buried himself, blowing his load.

There was only so much he could handle, their foreheads pressed together as her walls started to constrict as if trying to keep him sheathed. Tate admired her briefly, the tear stained face, parted lips, her breath on his tongue and tickling him. She looked absolutely ruined in the most beautiful way.

His cock throbbed and I’m filled to the brim with hot cum that goes deeper than he’s able. I pressed my face into Tate’s neck, nuzzling into him. Whimpering once I felt his blade kiss my flesh. He leaned down and bit my throat hard enough to leave teeth imprints. Soon enough my head lulled onto his shoulder as my consciousness quickly faded.

Tate groaned while pulling out of her before lowering the girl on the floor. She’s already dripping which prompted him to stuff her pussy with the underwear previously cut. Trying to keep as much in so there’s a higher chance of pregnancy. He carefully placed his trenchcoat—revealing his military coat underneath—over her body, then fixed his pants, grabbed his shotgun and headed for the exit. All the while whistling that very tune he had before starting the massacre.

Tate headed for the cafeteria—and shot the few remaining students under tables who were foolish enough to stay put. He picked up a discarded water bottle, drank what’s left and threw it to the floor when finished. By the time he arrived it was already 12:30 pm and it’s only a matter of time before SWAT ruined his fun. He jogged to the library for one last survey of his work. The girl under his coat remained blissfully ignorant of his looming form above her. He licked his lips slowly, admiring her delicate body he just defiled. She looked so fragile. If he really wanted to, he could strangle her or put a bullet in that pretty head right now. Although that wasn’t the plan.

Tate put 6 feet of distance between them, going onto his knees but facing her. He raised the gun to his left temple and pulled the trigger. Hoping to be confined at Westfield instead of that damn house.

The few in the library watched their shooter kill himself less than 10 feet from them. A few screamed out—from relief or shock it wasn't known—and immediately ran for the exit. Except Kevin, Aileen and Stephanie.

Aileen was the first to move toward y/n while Kevin grabbed the broken pendant he cradled in his palm. A part of him was relieved Tate had killed himself while the other wished he’d been the one to do it.

The two knelt beside y/n, each holding one hand. They didn’t need to look under the trenchcoat to imagine how she appeared since they were forced to watch. But for now she’s peaceful which is why they didn’t wake her. All they could do is wait until SWAT assisted everyone outside.

In the end. Tate knew what he did was for a war he hoped others took note of. Their school needed cleansing as does this filthy world they live in. His act of committing suicide wasn’t one of cowardliness but of self sacrifice. He saved his classmates from the truly harsh realities of life. They’re taken somewhere safe, somewhere clean. Perhaps some would understand his actions and regard him a hero. A soldier even. In times of tragedy people looked to God. Right? Wherever Tate ends up he’ll always find a way to make sure people saw him as such. Especially y/n.

[lethalchiralium]

wait wait wait!! you mentioned that you wanted to kill the missus quite a few times and mellie’s birth au was just 👌

so how about making simon’s fear with losing the missus with the home birth come true? i mean, atleast she dies in his arms unlike with mellie au? they can say goodbye and simon can self flagellate more by blaming his self for agreeing into this shit show that is now turning into a nightmare. imagine his panic during and his helplessness with needing to care for the baby while tending to you just bleeding over that bath tub. and goddamn it, why is the ambulance taking so long?!

-🥀

all of you are evil like me and i love it. I LOVE IT.

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8j9wEah/ , look. LOOK. grown out beard and hair simon is everything i need, he always has been and will always be happiness simon 🤠) (thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for some dialogue and overall delulu with me teehee)

WARNINGS: child birth, blood, character death, grief.

HAPPINESS AU.

Winnie and Mellie were gone for the weekend with Soap and Price by the time you were having your first contraction. Simon rushed home after your phone call, letting the small bag of groceries land on the table without stopping. He was up the stairs in two seconds flat, his shoes dragging rain throughout your house - he didn’t care. It was time. He burst through the bathroom door, similar to the way he did when you miscarried your first son. Now, he burst through the door, ready to help you deliver your son.

You had already set up plastic tarps and towels for your delivery in your bathtub; warm water level kept at a two inch height, a pillow behind your back as your hands gripped the rim of the porcelain. He was instantly tearing off his shoes, tossing them into the bedroom as he asked, “Give me the word and I’ll call the ambulance right now, love.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smirk, eyes screwed shut as you tried to stay quiet during the contraction, but you ultimately failed. A low groan came from the center of your chest as Simon quickly washed his hands, then moved to you. He smiled as he kissed your head, nervous as all Hell but ready to meet his son. His hand gently curled around the back of your head, the other settled just beside your hand that gripped the tub.

As soon as you let go and your eyes opened, Simon took your hand. Kissing the back of it, his smile made your heartbeat climb. He truly was the most beautiful person you knew.

“Ready to meet our baby?” You whispered, your own smile on your face as your empty hand rested on your belly.

He laughed, kissing your lips. He kept his face close to yours as he pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m ready.” He stayed there for just a second before he moved, getting into the tub to kneel between your legs. His eyes met yours, he spoke softly, “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, hand reaching for his - your fingers linking together linked together with his as you uttered the words, “I want to do this with just you.” You wanted to have this experience with just him and him alone.

He held out his other hand and you took it, the tremors in your belly grew painful again, another contraction roared its head and you squeezed your eyes shut. He glanced down, his heart racing as he could see his son crowning. Your hands trembled, your head began to compress as you gritted your teeth; this was the worst one yet. It felt like everything was pulling, pulling, pulling until-

Snap.

The scream you let out was terrifying, but Simon still clutched your hands tightly as you squeezed his. Something was wrong.

“Simon- Simon, call the ambulance.”

His eyes looked up to your face, panic instantly running through his chest. “What?”

“Something’s-“ A wince left your throat. Tears fell faster from your eyes, the red hot pain in your pelvis felt like it was increasing dramatically at every second.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s-“

He looked back down and all he saw was blood.

He didn’t even remember calling 999 by the time he was in the tub, kneeling in front of you and covered in your blood. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he was scared, he felt nothing but fear as he pulled his son out, taking him into his arms. Blood rushed out of you, Simon pressed a towel in between your legs to try and curb the bleeding, his eyes watching you frantically. With his knee pressing the towel into you, his one free hand reached for you.

Your eyes began to haze over, tears in them as you spoke, “I don’t- I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not, sweetheart. You’re not gonna die on me.” He spoke, squeezing your hand before he began to move his son to rest on your bare chest. “Gotta hold ‘im, love. Just for a second, I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

You have him a languid nod, your hand coming to rest on top of your baby as he cried against your sweaty skin.

“His name.” Your voice was broken, tired; your hands weak against your strong baby as he cried and cried.

Simon pulled the towel away, it was soaked with blood. He grabbed another from the stack beside the tub, pressing it in between your legs again with his knee before he looked back to you. Your face full of tears, your hands cradling your son.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” His head looked up towards the bathroom door, hoping he would hear paramedics enter through his front door - but he heard nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Simon.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t want to be someone who hurts you after… after I’ve done so much to heal you.”

He heard movement, a call from his living room and hope sparked in his chest. His head jolted towards the door, he shouted back, “Up here! She’s up here!” He looked back to you. “They’re here, love. Just a minute longer and they can help you, okay?” He could hear the boots as they ran through the house, he gazed at your exhausted face. “I’m gonna have to move you, love. Hold onto him, hold onto the baby.”

You barely nodded before he let go of your hands, then he was quick to get out of the tub - he pulled you up and out of the tub, his heart stung as he heard your broken scream of pain. He placed you on the ground, taking another towel and pressing it between your legs. There was so much blood, Simon couldn’t even think straight as he placed more towels underneath your head.

“Just a minute longer.”

Your eyes opened, tears pouring from them as you struggled to smile and nod. “Okay, Si. Okay.”

The paramedics came through the doorway, instantly dropping bags of medical equipment onto the tile floor. Simon moved to kneel beside her head, he ignored the paramedics as they began to work on you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as he held your face.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He gave you a reassuring smile, trying to keep you in good spirits. He wanted you to be okay, he needed you to be okay. “You’re fine, everything’s fine.”

There was a low rumble that came from your throat, you glanced down at your son before looking back up at your husband. Your wonderful, beautiful husband who loved you more than you have ever been loved in your entire life. “Take him.”

Those words made Simon’s blood turn ice cold. You had waited so long to hold your son, you were meant to hold him, they were working on you. You would be fine. “N-No. You-“

“I’m fine, remember?”

“But-“ If I take him, you’ll leave.

“I’m fine, baby. Take our son.” If there was a moment when he could stop time and admire your face, it would be then. It would be when your smile was small, you looked so hopeful. “…Please, Simon.”

His hands felt ice cold as he gently pulled his warm newborn from your chest, the baby pawed at his chest as he wailed. He looked to a paramedic, they nodded and reached for his son, taking him from Simon’s blood stained hands. Your husband looked back to you, watching your lively eyes begin to dull and flutter closed.

“I love you, Simon Riley.”

“No, baby, no-“

“I love you.”

“Y/N Riley, open your eyes. Open your eyes, goddammit!” One hand gently smacked your cheek, the other held the hand with your beautiful wedding ring on it. “Don’t- Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

His son screamed across the room, to Simon it sounded like he was begging for you to stay too.

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, c’mon. Wake up, it’s not funny. It’s not-“ He choked on a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would never forget how warm you were, how warm your hand was, how warm your blood was. “Baby. Y/N. Please. I can’t do this- I can’t do this again.”

Nothing left your lips.

His chest curled inwards, his heart crushing with every beat. Red hot spears went through his spine, through his arms and legs - the warm light that came from the light fixture felt like a thousand needles in his skin. He felt anger. He wanted to break his hand in the wall beside him, wanted to scream as loud as he could, for as long as he could. He wanted to die at that exact moment.

He wanted to tell you he loved you, but the wave of grief had walled and hit him dead on. He bowed his head to you, sobs leaving his chest as his hands held your face and hand.

The paramedics sat and watched the display, yet their hands prodded at Simon, trying to move him away from you. A scream ripped from his throat, his face then buried in your neck as nauseating sobs escaped his lips.

You were supposed to stay. You were so excited to meet your son, so excited to have this stupid home birth, excited to be doing it with him. You always loved him so much, and he showed you that he loved you by constantly choosing his career over you - but you were always so understanding. You just wanted to have a baby with him, have him be there with you, to hold and comfort you.

His sobs became silent and painful when he came to a devastating realization.

You would never see your babies grow up.

gotta love the angsty happiness asks

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[realisticjupiter]

hey! 😁 love your works for chishiya.

Can I request some fluff? Chishiya gets home late from work and reader (fem if it matters) has this weird thing where she sleeps better when Chishiya reads to her?? Like the first time it happened it wasn't on purpose he was just quoting something he liked in the book and suddenly reader's just dead asleep.

Also can I claim an emoji? I can see me requesting a lot more 🤭🤭

-🥀

Summary: Chishiya makes you sleepy.

Genre: Fluff !

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 238

a/n: I'm so glad you enjoy my work!!! Ofc you can claim an emoji, hi 🥀!!!!

You and Chishiya were spread out on the sofa, he was leaning back onto the arm of the couch as you sat between the crevice of his body and the back of the couch.

Your arm was laid on his stomach, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket as you held your eyes closed; in an attempt to chase the sleep you had been yearning for all day.

"Have you read this before?" Chishiya's voice was soft, but still his harsh kind of tone as if he was trying to be more quiet in case you were fully asleep.

"Read what?" You muttered against his body, your fingertips tracing around his torso.

"Mm, you probably haven't." He whispered, looking down at your hand that almost tickled him as it moved around.

"There's a quote that reminds me of you," He whispered once more, but it was softer than the last; as if it was trying to hide away beneath his sultry breath.

You couldn't even process the words he spoke next, you had already fell into a deep sleep by the time he finished the quote.

Chishiya looked down when you didn't respond, noticing how your breathing changed and your hand had stopped moving. He raised a brow at your state, and when he realized you were truly asleep, he brought his free hand to the top of your head; fidgeting around with your hair with his fingers.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[ohbabydollie]

Ahhh umm this is so embarrassing lmfao

🥀anon? If it's not taken

Ahh so Johnny walking into Jay jerking off with your dirty panties and being all mocking about it (but also it being painfully obvious that he's jealous he necet thought to steal a pair), and then the next day both of them finding a pair "accidentally" tossed into their rooms?

ofc! i don’t judge when it comes to smut 🫡

“you fuckin’ creep!” johnny yells as he walks into jay’s room.

jay scrambles to cover himself and throw the panties that he was sniffing just a moment ago into any corner

“what are you talkin’ about” jay asks, face red and trying to act as casual as he possibly could

“the fuckin’ panties” johnny says picking up the pair, trying to make a face of disgust “you snatched em” he says looking at the pair in his hand “you perv”

jay quickly snatches the pair from his grip “so what if i did?” he asks defensively “they’re not yours”

“yeah but it’s disgustin, takin some poor girls panties” he says grabbing the pair from him, almost immediately recognizing them “there are y/n’s! not even jus’ a random chick’s but your own roomie”

johnny shakes his head in shame “you sick perv, you get no play to the point ya gotta be pervin on your own roomie” he tucks the pair into his pocket “shame on you”

“YOU JUS TOOK EM!” jay yells upset “give em back, i took em first”

jay reaches into johnny’s pocket for them but before he can johnny pulls them to his chest

“you’re not takin them from me”

“give em back!” jay says grabbing one of the ends johnny trying to tug them away from him. it goes on for a few seconds until both of them tug at the panties and

rippp

“YOU RUINED EM!” jay yells, clearly upset “they were fresh!”

“well i wouldn’t have ruined em if you weren’t tryin to take em from me!” johnny argues, looking at the torn piece of fabric

“get outta my room!” jay says as johnny slams the door, balling up the fabric and angrily throwing it into the kitchen trash can, deciding that he’ll take it out later.

what he didn’t expect was for you to get home before he could take out the trash, going to throw away the wrapper of a snack and seeing your torn panties in the trash.

you knew your panties had been going missing and reappearing for a while now, you expected it to be one of the boys but never expected that it could possibly be the both of them.

with a grin you got your laciest pairs, one you thought johnny would like and one for jay and waited until they were off in class. the second they were you went into their rooms, leaving on the bed their own special gift

[lovelaetter]

hér in that two piece…

she looks like a sugar baby trying to convince her mommy not to leave her for a business trip 🥲 purposefully wearing a skimpy mini skirt and a tiny little top that doesn’t even try to cover her bra underneath. when you ask her to give up your suitcase she’s all over you, saying the dirtiest things trying to distract you so you hopefully miss your flight—and which you do because how could you when it’s hér

you getting angry with her and fucking her without letting her cum til she’s crying and all she can do is blabber out apologies to you. so soaked and so grabby with you. when you try to get her naked she gets all whiny and says “no, i put this on for you :(“

when you wipe her tears and it finally comes to her riding you she mumbles that she swears that she could “feel it in her stomach” and looks down with wide eyes at her pretty white skirt bunched and shrivelled up to her waist to see her belly bulge as you fill her pussy.

(extra thought: also imagine just bringing hér on the private jet with you after hér pleading and when you catch a certain flight crew member looking at her for too long you fuck her real good that everyone could hear who she belongs to but that’s just me)

i love the fact there isn’t a name mentioned anywhere but we just know bc hér.

she would be so fucking insisting and annoying, wrapping her arms around your neck and pouting, saying you “can’t leave me here, i’ll miss you soooo much, i might die!”, dramatic af, and you’re like “you’re not dying, rosie, now give me that” trying to get your suitcase from behind her but she’s faster, sitting on top of it like 😠 and when you say she better stop that and you’re going to be late? “hm, i hope so”. but who we fooling here, if you really cared about your trip and wanted to leave that bad you could easily push her away, kiss her goodbye and leave, but the truth is deep down you’re having so much fun with her overreacting moment. and the way she bites her lip when you check your phone and shows her that you indeed lost the flight? “now you have no choice but staying with me!”

finding the whole thing fun doesn’t mean you aren’t making her pay for it, obviously, sighing and grabbing her waist, looking at her like who asks “what am i going to do with you?” while she giggles. let’s out a loud gasp that turns into a moan when you force her to bend over the back of the couch and your hand slides between her legs, instinctively pushing against your touch. kicking and whining when your hand stops and her orgasm drifts away, arching her back trying to get more of your fingers but only getting a laugh and a “look at you, not so feisty anymore” from you. not so hard to make her cry as she’s so used to getting what she wants from you, tears threatening to spill by the second orgasm you deny her and sliding down her cheeks halfway through the third edging. can’t barely speak as you repeat it for a fourth time, sobbing when you give her pussy light spanks, her clit aching, asking if she’s really, really sorry and all she can is nod, crying harder when you tell her to use her words. so lost that when you finally let her cum she doesn’t babble the usual “thank you” but keeps on going “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry”, to which you have to turn her around and shush her with kisses because it’s almost pitiful.

barely being able to close her legs after, hugging you and letting you carry her to bed because of course you’re not done. didn’t she want you to stay at home with her? might as well enjoy it to the fullest! i think she would insist on eating you out before riding you, because she loves to taste you but mostly to give her a break. kneeling between your legs as you sit at the edge of the bed, so weak, but almost purring when you grab her chin and brush hair off her face. genuinely not her best job, her mind still a little fuzzy, tongue all over the place but the important part is that she does make you cum, coming up with a big smile and the lower half of her face all wet.

you can’t help but chuckle when she whines and stops you from taking her top off, simply lowering it to show her tits. ignores you saying her clothes are going to get out of place anyways, sliding easily down your strap, mouth opening in a big ‘O’, quiet at first as you let her found her rhythm up and down, listening to the wet squelches from her abused pussy. growing louder and louder as you take in your hands the job to bounce her up and down, making her take all of the toy’s length. backing away a bit and opening her eyes suddenly and staring at you with mouth hanging open, moving her skirt to get a better view, in awe, taking your hand to her tummy and muttering it’s too big and that she can “feel it here”, almost going cross eyed as you feel it too and make her go faster.

waking up the next morning and she’s wasted in your arms, looking like an angel, as if you didn’t do the worst to her night before. poor baby, being so sad to wake up and find you getting ready to take a private jet because you really need to take this business trip, she will miss you so much. but lighten up after you stare at her for a long time and ask if she wants to come you, going “yesyesyesyes” and jumping on your arms :( she doesn’t mind it’s going to be boring and that she’s going to be alone most of the time, just knowing that at the end of the day she won’t have to wait for a call because instead you’ll be coming back for her at the hotel?! she’s the happiest girl in the world.

AND FUCKING HER DURING THE FLIGHT??? her trying so hard to be quiet while being on your lap and your touch, even if nice and slow, still feel like too much as she’s still sensitive and you’re not being that merciful as well, filling her with three fingers :( you can be so mean to her sometimes!

[fatuismooches]

Honestly, Dottore with reader as playable chars is such a funny concept. You know people who build supports chars as dps, like Barbara, Qiqi, me with Candace, all that stuff. Dottore insulting the absolute idiocy of the player, while wearing something like under leveled noblesse w/ lvl 1 fav. greatsword, while his lover gets the perfect artifacts, weapon, 3 crowns etc etc, with the motivation of "their autoattacks are so cute, I want to see them more often >:"

-🥀

OMG YESSS... this actually made me realize duo playable Reader and Dottore would be a lot of investment... two separate weapons, level-up materials, artifact sets, talents. You would be spending a LOT of resin on these two and probably end up neglecting one of them if you don't plan accordingly. In this case, Dottore. The poor Harbinger is hitting double-digit damage (giving Dottore The Bell weapon, just to be even more evil) while Reader, despite being the support character, is somehow hitting in the six-digit area for showcases. Needless to say, he's very much not amused at the player's antics, more because now he has to deal with Reader flaunting how much stronger they are compared to him. Unfortunately, it seems like he's going to be benched for a while despite being out on the field all the time...

[darkbluekies]

Blue, do you have any facts about any of your characters that you'd like to share. Habits, thoughts, info, etc. Basically anything. This is your opportunity to info dump lol (if ya wanna ;3)

(I'm new here btw, love your work)

🥀anon~

Warnings: murder, suggestive indications,

Silas:

— gets clingy/horny/vulnerable when drunk

— is a good cook

— barely has ant contact with his parents

— likes children (not in a creepy way smh)

— he can't keep his hands off of you normally (imagine when he's drunk) and loves to hold you close to him

— he gets jealous really, really easily and can't control himself when he does get jealous

— loves to mark you up, because ... jealousy and possessiveness

— a bit of a husky voice, a bit deeper, he drags out some syllabels (almost like whining)

— nationality: greek

— age: Around 35-38, birthday season: late fall

— has to work out a lot to keep his muscles (googled the different types and he resembles a ripped/athletic build) so he drinks more protein shakes than he'd admit

— height: around 189 cm

Dr Kry

— secretly wants to become an author

— he's an only child

— grew up in a very strict household

— he's amazing at turning on/off his feelings and act professional unless it's you

— frowns often

— a honey smooth voice, not very light, not very deep. Clear pronounciation

— was the smartest kid in his class

— age: 33-36, birthday season: winter

— never cries

— nationality: swedish/norwegian

— he doesn't eat much, mostly chicken in all forms, but drinks a lot of coffee (he has a caffein addiction)

— has a habit of finishing your sentences when you don't want to talk

— height: around 187 cm

King Edmund

— his parents were murdered when he was around 16 which made him the youngest king in their history

— gets someone to taste test the food the two of you eat to make sure no one has poisoned it

— has a sword with your name ingraved in it

— powerful, dominating voice, when he speaks it sends shivers down everyone's spines. He almost always sounds "angry", but he can force it down to a sweet mumble when he's with you.

— age: around 19-22, birthday season: early summer

— nationality: his own kingdom BUT if he had a real nationality, it would be most likely German

— you're the only one he's nice to, but he's a big fan of discipline and will correct you if you do something he isn't liking

— he doesn't feel much regret or empathy when doing something bad, since he's the king and gotten to do everything he wants, he hasn't developed a lot of those kind of emotions

— height: around 184 cm

Jerry:

— likes tattooes, probably has one inspired by you

— trains boxing

— she likes night views, for an example sitting on a roof top to watch the city lights or sitting on a dock to hear the waves late at night

— quite a strong, clear voice, not very raspy, but a little husky every now and then

— age: 24, birthday season: late spring

— she wishes that she could let her guard down with you, but thanks to everything she's been through during the years, she can't let herself

— nationality: korean

— she's the type to go: "you're great sweetie" without looking at what you're doing.

—jerry loves alcohol and melts inside when you get her favorite beer for her

— she watches over you when you sleep and doesn't let anyone come close to you when you're that vulnerable

— will mock you if you say you like something, but then it'll mysteriously appear in your bedroom in large amounts

— height: around 167 cm

Hedwig:

— her voice is sweet like honey, very feminine and delicate!!

— age: around 18-19, birthday season: late summer

— BIGGEST sweettooth, she loves everyhting sweet

— wants an idyllic family life

— nationality: british

— dream job: model

— a big fan of photographing ... you

— hedwig loves to spoil you, you'll always have new clothes, perfumes, jewelry, books, etc etc

— clingiest motherfucker you'll ever meet

— LOVES to show you off

— doesn't like horror movies and if you force her to watch one she'll hide under your shirt every time she gets scared

— always smiles when you talk to her

— height: around 173 cm

[ncteez]

wait now I’m thinking about cutie mailman!mark who always gives a shy wave when you catch him delivering to your mailbox. since it’s hot as hell outside you always try to leave a snack and cold water for him during his routes, and he thanks you by spreading you open in his truck and burying his head under your pretty summer skirt ☹️☹️☹️

-🥀

i changed it a little bit. she's not wearing a summer skirt lmao.

tags: reader is a shameless whore just like me, purchase of sex toys to make mark suspicious and horny, kitchen smut.

wc: 1.3k

mailman!mark, who delivers your mail and packages every single day at the exact same time. Rain or shine, he's there.

Whether you can afford the bill he's delivering to you or not, he's there. Whether it's a package you've been excited for, junk mail, shitty ads, Mark's always there to deliver it.

You moved here some three years ago. The first house with the mail box attached to the wall right by your door. The first house with a ring camera set up. The first house where you've strictly hoped websites ship through your regular carrier service just to see that hot mail man carry all your packages to your door through that little ring camera.

Yeah, he's hot. Cute, even, when the neighbor's cat is lounging directly where he needs to walk and he stops every single time to give the cat a little pat on the head.

Safe to say, when the summer months roll around, you definitely start leaving him out little snacks and cold bottles of water and juices.

Even safer to say that you might have a slight crush on him with the way his face lights up, despite the sun already brightening it to an extent that he can actually be hard to see through the ring camera at times.

All summer, he looks forward to delivering at your house. Hoping that you have mail every single day. Hoping that you thank him with little snacks every single day. Hoping that someday, he can see the owner of the house because it's a little weird how he knows your full name and address, but not at all what you look like.

~

Ohhh, that day comes not soon enough for him.

You began to make it a point to be noticed by said mail man is fall rolled around. You're not just outside for him though, you're out there to....you know, rake leaves..........in a short dress, because the temperature is finally chilling down but, it's not quite sweater weather yet either.

The way you see him nearly break his neck staring at you. You assume he's internally wondering if you're just a mirage or something within his long shift he completes every day, until he notices the little basket of snacks and drink for him.

He looks over his shoulder at you, and you to him.

You give a small wave, he gives a small nod.

~

Anyway, so basically, throughout fall you try to be outside just at the right time. Conversations with him become part of his visit. Little "get to know me" questions growing more and more personal as the conversations continue.

He looks forward to delivering your mail, until...well.

Listen, you didn't entirely buy it on purpose (you did). A suspicious little package that is blatantly obvious to any mail person handling it.

Mark holds the package in his hands, wondering how many times he's delivered phallic toys to the people in this neighborhood. That, he wouldn't know. But, now he knows that it's happened at least once. To you.

You do, indeed, sit on the porch with a warm cup of tea. Big sweater, socks up to your knees, shorts despite the weather getting cooler, when he delivers it to you.

You take it from his hands, sending him a look that gives his body signals.

"What's your name?" You ask him, inspecting that your package offers optimal suspicion to him.

"Mark."

Well, that's definitely a name fitting for a mailman.

"Ah, Mark." You say his name easily, flipping the package in your hand and opening it right there on your front porch. "Do you have a girlfriend, Mark?"

The repeating of his name sends a little chill up his spine, or maybe it was the cool autumn wind, he isn't sure. He swallows around the lump in his throat upon seeing your package confirm his suspicions, shaking his head at you.

"Um, No." He says, voice cracking just a little bit.

"Oh? Shame." You smile as you continue to fumble with your package, examining the toy and noting that it's actually a size bigger than you ordered, but you're not too upset. "Do you want one?"

He checks his watch, averts his eyes, looks up, looks down, bounces from one foot to the other. Then, you fix your eyes back to him, smiling fondly.

"I uh, should really, um--" He points his thumb over to his mail truck, taking a step back.

"Alright, Mark. I'll see you tomorrow."

~

Man, if training a man to have a boner was something you knew you could do, you would've done it ages ago.

Mark, the mailman, appears to believe every single package and envelope you accept from his very hands must contain a sex toy of sorts.

The weather is getting colder, and your outfits are only getting skimpier too.

Naturally, it's not long before you put that final nail in his coffin. Standing just inside the door as he delivers your mail to you yet again, on a Tuesday morning right as the clock strikes eleven.

"Ah, hold on!" You say as he turns to head back to his truck.

You turn, bending over blatantly to show that you're definitely not wearing anything under this large sleeping shirt. It's just to grab his snacks that you put on the floor for...um, no reason.

The way he swallows at what you present to him. The way his pants get tighter. The way he very well might just fucking lose his job if he doesn't get back in the truck and continue to make good time on his deliveries.

"Ah, do you want a warm drink to take with you too?" You ask as innocently as possible, handing him the snacks and watching him nod at you as if he's in a trance.

"Great! Come in and warm up for a second while I make it."

Mark doesn't know why he's risking his job right now stepping through your door. He also doesn't know how he ends up in your kitchen with you, bending you over the counter with a mug rolling and clattering to the floor.

Doesn't know how his fingers slide into you with such ease, or the way you grab him directly between the legs and stroke his cock like your hand was made for it.

But does he care? Not at this moment.

It's like a cliché porno come true. And he won't admit the amount of mailman roleplay he's watched on the hub since meeting you.

You really invited him in, you really didn't wear panties, and now, you're really moaning his name against a smooth marble surface, leaking wet all over him. And he can't get enough, with his big hands gripping your hips and guiding your ass to meet his pelvis every time.

He doesn't think he's ever been this deep in someone before. The fact that you like it as deep as he pushes only drives him further too. Pressing you so hard against the counter when he drives his cock in further, listening for the sounds of how much wetter you manage to get for him.

His hands move to the counter around you as he leans his entire body against you, thrusting tightly into you. Not quite pulling out all the way, mostly keeping himself buried in. Why? Because he can feel you clench him, he can hear your breath get shakier and shakier-- and if there's anything in the world he wants right now, it's for you to come all over him.

And when you do, he can't help but leave you with a little parting gift as well. Finding himself giving you a soft and gentle kiss at your door, only glancing for a moment at his cum running down your legs before smiling, and heading back to his truck.

Learning how to fuck fast and efficiently wasn't really a part of his job description, but it's a perk, he thinks.

[collarme]

I didn't think I'd ever have a gun kink before but now I'm a fucking dripping mess at work and trying so hard to focus on anything but the feeling of the cold metal of the gun against my sensitive skin ~🥀

such a naughty little thing, aren't you? I bet you wish I could come up behind you, send a shock to your senses as I use the gun to lift your chin, my other hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet. my lips brush your ear as i slide the gun lower and lower, until it slides into your waistband and grinds into that adorable wet mess you made for me. could you keep quiet while I touched you, all your coworkers in the other room oblivious to what we were doing? would you whimper when I leave a hickey on your neck to mark you for later, as my plaything I could use whenever I want? I'd make you lick yourself off of my gun, clean it off with your tongue and lips before I left you, breathless and satisfied yet craving more. could you take that? I bet you could.

[enden-k]

if he thinks that azrael's the cutest then clearly hes never looked in the mirror... ( youn do you want my bodily functions to cease? )

-🥀

he always complains when being called cute but then theres stuff like this

like??? yea sorry youre just cute i dont make the rules (hes as cute as azrael 😤)