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#WATCH THIS ANIME OR ELSE I'M BEGGING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sskk-manifesto · 20 days
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(´・ᴗ・ ` )
#I really like the “We're the bad guys' enemy” line. For someone I generally despise Dazai has all my favourite lines in this show…#Idk I can't really vibe with the unbalance that there is between s/kk.#Like when push comes to shove‚ Dazai has the power to keep Chuuya alive or let him die.#I understand why they make a compelling dynamic in their complexity‚ but it just doesn't do it for me.#I'm a little sad my opinion on them hasn't really changed since I watched the anime for the first time...#Also; I really can't vibe with Chuuya allowing Dazai to kill Q. Yes I know Chuuya cares about his comrades deeply.#Yes I know it can be interpreted as Chuuya seeing himself in Q as a living weapon and being disgusted by it#(though I honestly don't think that was intentional of the author).#Yes I know Chuuya is a mafioso and kills people. No I don't think your personal issues justify you being a dick to other people I'm sorry.#Back to my main annoyance with the episode: I must have already talked about this but I hate hate hate the narrative#“the mafia works for the city” “the mafia deeply loves the city too” it's so so sickening and insulting please stop I'm begging.#Please visit any actual city with a rooted mafia presence for once in your life (signed: someone whose hometown was destroyed by the mafia.#The writers really don't know what they're talking about and‚ politely‚ it's offensive.)#Also b/sd keeping being extremely nationalist with Mori (who's largely depicted unsimphatetically for the first part of the episode)–#bringing up western thinkers and subtly mocking Fukuzawa for not knowing them–#and Fukuzawa (the righteous man. the noble spirit and just soul in this episode and Mori's antithesis)–#stepping forward to say that he knows strategists from the east (because who else would he need?)#I don't know if it's meant to symbolize the conflict with an hostile and invading foreign power (the Guild).#But it does come across as. A very isolationist way of thinking.#I know it's subtle but it's really evident for me. And I didn't want to talk about this any further…#But by bringing actual examples of this I hope I can better explain why I think that b/sd holds nationalist views–#and that I'm not just making it up out of nowhere. Otherwise I fear I'd only come off as pettily hostile to b/sd in everything#That's it. I feel like I've been losing a lot of mutuals over my main recently due to not shutting up (sorry)#so I suppose it's only fair I lose them on here too pffttt.#Tune in next week for more bad takes#random rambles
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whore-ibly-hot · 8 months
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Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader
"Just Another Day at The Office."
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.
(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)
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Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.
Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.
It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.
You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.
"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.
"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.
"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.
"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.
He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.
Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.
"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.
"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.
You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.
"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.
In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.
"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.
"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.
"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.
"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.
When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.
"May I handle that before we go out?"
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ghouljams · 3 months
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The ghost distribution system has given me brain rot. I volunteer and foster for a cat rescue and have said the phrase "it's fine we're all strays here" to several animals an now all I can think of is him over hearing that and further solidifying "yep I'm here forever now"
God that kills me.
"It's ok baby, we're all strays here"
It hits Ghost between the ribs, sticks like it's barbed. You're talking to one of the neighborhood cats but it doesn't matter, it may as well be him. He watches you stroke your fingers over the tabby's head, scratching lightly behind its ears as it chomps greedily at the kibble you set out. Crouched and resting your cheek against your palm, your smile is so gentle. You're beautiful when you smile. All strays. He hadn't considered that in your infinite kindness, your ceaseless compassion, you could be like him. It didn't fit, somehow, that another stray might take him in, that the hand reaching out to him might have been looking for salvation as well.
Ghost supposes even god must have to beg for worship. Why else would they send angels to shepherds? Send prophets and evangelists? Do you beg at the same doorway, staring from the other side of the warmth and hoping your worshipers can find you in the cold? When you saved him, did you know how deeply his devotion would run? Did you know to be scared of it? Did you know he'd stay?
Did you know he'd come back?
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lucidreamer-uwu · 1 year
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Things that make them fall deeper in love with you | Brothers Edition
Lucifer
Sticking your tongue out in mischief, or when you feel silly, at him.
Poking his shoulder to get his attention and quickly moving out of sight when he looks, only to find you smiling at him on the opposite side.
Making him coffee.
Reminding him about tasks he has to do like meetings, paperwork, or student council things.
Asking him about small details about himself.
Your cute puppy dog eyes when you beg him for something.
Your focused face.
Mammon
Idly smiling at him. Even more so if you stare.
Genuinely complimenting him.
Recognizing that he isn't what everyone thinks he is.
Booping his nose when you're face to face with each other.
Seeing your reactions when you receive his gifts.
Making mischief with him.
Reading magazines he's in together.
Surprising him at his modelling gigs.
Your laugh.
Leviathan
Cheering for him in games, school work, or anything in general.
Surprise hugs from behind.
Whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
Head pats.
Insisting on making a very elaborate otaku secret handshake.
Holding onto him when you watch or play something scary.
Rare moments when you make an embarrassed face.
Seeing you dance and/or sing anything anime related.
Being clumsy.
Satan
Sneezing softly. It reminds him of how cats sneeze. He thinks it's absolutely adorable.
Talking about your favorite books, which parts you liked the most, what you thought about the plot and characters.
Rambling about anything and everything that pops into your mind to him.
Combing your fingers through his hair as he reads a book and drinks his tea.
Kissing his forehead.
Taking his hand in yours.
Pouting.
Choosing him. When you tell anyone else that you're busy being with him to hang out.
Asmodeus
Volunteering to help him with his various self-care routines.
Telling him that he's even more beautiful on the inside.
Being there when those rare insecure times roll in on him.
Cupping his face, smiling, and telling him you love him.
Your "angry" face.
Intertwining your fingers with his and swinging your hands as you walk.
Sleeping in his bed.
Touching your noses and foreheads together.
Asking him to wear matching outfits.
When you touch/poke his nails one by one and hum a cute tune like a kid.
Beelzebub
The way your eyes turn into hearts as you watch him do anything.
When you try to challenge him in a determined way.
Using his arm as a pillow.
Wiping crumbs off his face.
Bringing him snacks at his practice.
Secretly handing him food after Lucifer confiscates his during a student council meeting.
When you work out.
When you're lazy.
That face you make when you enjoy your food.
When you cook.
Belphegor
Your blushy face.
Your sleeping face.
Your worried face. But only if you're worried about him.
Your panicking face.
Any silly face you make when you try to cheer him up or make him laugh.
How determined you are to motivate him.
The way you slide your hand under his bangs when you check him for a fever.
The rhythm of your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing.
Poking his cheek.
Feeding him when he's too tired to feed himself.
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HI EVERYONE I'M BACK!! After not posting or updating the blog for about 2 months I'm actually glad that you legends still follow me uwu. Sorry to disappoint, I'm not dead yet >:3
Anyways, thank you thank you thank you for all the continuous support and love that you give me despite my sudden disappearance lol. I appreciate every single one of you 💕
UPDATE: I will do my very best to answer all the pending asks in my inbox and the ones that I've already started working on and are in my drafts ; w ; so look forward to it because I didn't forget about them <;3
ANNOUNCEMENT: As of the writing of this post, asks are currently closed. HOWEVER I will be reopening my asks when I reach 600 followers ^ ^ ! We are currently at 550 ♡(⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ꁞ⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
I hope everyone has a wonderful day/night!! Love you all, stay awesome 💫
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loveforeren · 9 months
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This was js a little drabble I found in my notes it's Jealous? Miguel x bratty reader? Yeah
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Peter and you were talking to tell you a joke, and you laughed doubling over. You knew Miguel had his eyes on you ever since the rumor went around about you and Peter flirting even though Peter was completely in love with MJ. If you were being honest you were flirting with almost everyone except Peter. You continue to giggle as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder, and that is Miguel's last straw. Jess came to you and tapped your shoulder
"Hey...Miguel wants you in his office hurry he seems upset.." Jess says with annoyance dripping from her voice, showing she wasn't in the mood for his anger when she was pregnant.
You nod and skip down to his office knowing what was to come. You walk in with a huge grin on your face. "You called me Miggy!" You say trying to keep your mischievous giggle in.
He glares. You know that glare all too well. You watch as his platform descends to the ground.
"Come here now." He practically growls. His voice was laced with anger.
A shiver ran down your back. You could hardly wait. You waltz over to him innocently with a grin.
"Yes~ Miggy." You say still trying to keep your composure.
Seconds later you feel his hand grip your cheeks and squish them harshly. You could feel the anger seething off of him. His eyes were red and a animal-like growl could be heard.
"Don't give me that Miggy shit. Wanna explain why you've been all over multiple other spiders for the past week." He Snarled
"You've been cooped up in here for a week in this room. I was horny so I was trying to find ways or rather other men pleasure me." You mumbled due to your cheeks being squished harshly. It was a joke, but Miguel being your boyfriend didn't find it funny.
You may have been mumbling but he understood every single word that left you mouth. You watch his face as his eyebrows furrow farther than they already were. Before you could react you react you were bent over one of the panels on his platform.
"So you were being a slut." He hissed his hand on the back of your neck holding you down. This still wasn't enough for you. You wanted to be destroyed by his dick.
"Hmm~ maybe?" You say laughing.
That did it. You made him snap. You feel his tear through the bottom of your spider suit with his talon. He'll make you a new one..probably?
"You want to be a slut? I treat you like one fucking whore." He spat out his words harshly.
You feel his finger move between your slick folds before he sticks two fingers into you with no warning and roughly. You yelp from both the pleasure in pain.
"Of course a little whore like you likes this I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You won't want anyone else's fucking cock." He Snarled
His fingers are going in and out of your throbbing hole roughly with every thrust you felt your body jolt forward. You are a moaning mess at this point.
"Miguel- R-right ah- Oh God right there." You mewl out in desperation.
Just as you were about you reach your high you feel his fingers stop. You whine at the halt in movement.
"Miggy please?" You beg eyes welling up with tears
"Fucking sluts like you don't deserve it." He hissed.
You watched as the bottom part of his suit disappeared. You had heard from Lyla that he went commando under it but you didn't believe it until now. He hits your ass the stinging sensation causes the tears in your eyes to spill. Your ass was stinging and you felt another slap.
"You like the pain don't you fucking whore." He said his eyes locked on to your now tear-stained face
he grabs a hold of your waist and slams into you with no warning. It took everything in you to not scream. He was mercilessly pounding into you. You could feel his talons coming out as he gripped your waist.
"Fuck whore. You like it rough." He Snarled snapping his hips back and pounding into you.
You were too cock drunk to even reply. Sobbing and hollering loudly was all you could manage to get out.
"Hmm? I'm here fucking your brains out dirty slut, and you want another man's dick? " He questioned his hips still snapping back and forth penetrating your body. You were too cock drunk to pay attention he grabbed your face and asks again
"Do you want another man's cock." It was more of a statement than in question in the firm way he asked.
"No..no I don't want anyone but you Miggy" you mewl. If someone didn't know any better they'd say they see the heart shapes in your eyes.
Miguel continues to pound into you "What if I fill you up? What if I fill that womb up? Hmm? Make you all big and swollen with my baby then you're stuck with me." He says between thrusts. "You wanna me to fill you up? Hm." He speaking nonsense at this point.
You feel a knot in your stomach and you groaned "Miggy can I come? Can I please come?"
Miguel laughs in a mocking way "Are you going to be a good whore for me? Are you going to be mine and mine only?" He asks firmly
"Yes! Yes, I promise Miggy!" You squirmed and yell.
"Go ahead." He whispered in your ear.
Miguel fucks you through your high not switching up his pace, but after a few more thrusts he came.
You feel your entire lower body be filled with his seed.
He leans over on you with a softer gaze as you caught your breath he had finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "Am I not paying enough attention to you?" He asked with a bit of concern.
You sigh "I know you're busy. Protecting the spiderverse."
He chuckled "The arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse, but yes its a lot of work."
You sigh.
"But not as important as you I'll work it. Not working as much so we can be together more okay?" He smiled kissing your forehead.
You smile nodding. "Okay! I'm gonna hold you to that Miggy."
(A/N) I'm with my family rn so it's hard to write because yk...I'm writing smut. I'll try to post again very very soon. I have like little a drabble and a Kokushibo fanfic that will be multiple parts in the works. Along with like 5 more Miguel fics and angst Eren fic and a Jean fic and I don't even at this point. My hashtag is #loveforeren its should be right at the top and that has all my posted writing and my masterlist is pinned with rules for for request.
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yanderestarangel · 2 months
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hihi, i really love your writings so i'm deciding to request. could you do miguel o'hara with an ftm reader- maybe some size kink, possessiveness, breeding, and degradation? thank you and have a great day/night!
𝐔𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐈́. | MIGUEL O'HARA X MALE READER
A/N: thanks for liking my work anon, I hope you like this one too.
🕸️ 》 TW: degradation, size kink, breeding, sex without a condom, ftm reader, male pronouns, biting, possessive sex, dark smut, porn plot, some phrases in spanish, power play.
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Miguel was a different spider man and perhaps the most complicated person to deal with in the entire spider society... However, he was a totally different man with you, always praising you for small victories and missions ── in an extremely possessive and strange way , after all, what differentiated you from others?... But for him, you were perfection in person, perhaps, the only variation in the entire multiverse that he felt connected enough to care about and it was that fucking unilateral connection that made you made him be in that submissive and compromising position.
You were leaning over the hard, cold technology panels of his office, the color orange standing out against your skin, as you watched the older man's thick, pulsing cock slide in and out of your pussy, making the sweetest, sweetest noises. dirty things a man could do... You were doing that moment.
Miguel grunted like a hungry animal, one of Spider-Man's hands was on your neck, his claws slightly went in and out due to the strength and emotions of anger he felt at that moment ── he saw the way you smiled at another spider variant, how you blushed when you flirted with someone else, how he could lose you if he didn't mark his territory on your body, like a sinful sanctuary.
"You can't escape me. I've been patient long enough. It's time for you to learn your place, beneath me... Mi Angelito... Always teasing me with those bright eyes and sweet ways..." He accelerated his movements, tearing off the rest of your uniform with his free hand, your breasts jumped free as he groaned as he saw them bounce with each thrust he gave into your wetness.
O'Hara's red eyes glowed as he saw you so small and fragile compared to his tall stature, he could break you, he could fuck you until you were a trembling, aching mess ── his cock barely entered your pussy whole, Your velvety walls hugged him back as if your life depended on it... And maybe it did.
"You're a fucking whore, begging for my cock, aren't you?" he taunted, his gaze met his, as he continued to gradually speed up, a white path of semen formed at the base of his cock and painted your pussy like a beautiful halo. "Look at yourself, such a naughty boy, taking my dick so well like an insatiable slut-! I'm going to breed your little pussy, mi guapo, and you'll never have any choice but to stay by my side forever... Isn't that right? You're going to be the fucking father of my children... It's a canonical event ...You cannot run away from your destiny."
Miguel moaned each word, each letter came out like a growl, an order, you were his regardless of whether it was what you wanted before or not ── however, the feeling of being so eagerly filled, the fat tip of his cock hitting your womb , and the heavy balls hitting your ass, were the most addictive narcotic drug you had tasted in years, you wanted to get out of there, but the moans, the possession phrases and the good sex he was offering you was enough to make you moan like a cheap whore, drooling on his cock, making your boss smile and show his fangs, biting your neck hard and marking you as his.
"I've wanted you for so long, ever since you joined the spider society. It took everything in me to hold back, to just be a good spider leader. But I couldn't stop myself from fantasizing about you." His words were sickening, but they made you wetter for some reason, maybe your brain rotted from the pleasure that coursed through your veins, but knowing that he had wanted you for a while made you moan and cling to him insistently.
"That's better," he grabbed your hips while supporting you even more on his control screens, not caring about the mess or damage it would cause later, everything was forgotten there, only your pussy mattered to the older man. "You finally understand your place... I knew you'd be mine, you will be mine forever." You rolled your eyes and felt your orgasm come after a few more stimulations that Miguel made with his cock in your body or with his mouth ── biting your breasts and nipples, kissing you as if nothing else existed in the world ── you felt your fingers your feet curled so hard that for seconds you swore you were going to break them, a loud moan echoed from your throat to the holographic walls, returning to O'Hara's ears, as he filled you with a hot and thick load of his cum ensuring you would take everything like a good boy.
"That's my favorite spider boy... But we're not done yet... I'm going to fuck you until you're full..." Miguel puts one of his thick fingers on your stomach. "Filled up to here, with my cum, you can handle it, right.. mi niño bonito, vas a manejar esto como un niño grande, ¿verdad?"
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Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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catcze · 5 months
Note
oh btw i know that a werewolf is a pretty obvious pick for your newest man but he does look like he'd make for a great vampire who has to actively resist the urge to feed on you because "your blood is... so sweet... and you're so... enticing... just a taste, please..."
or not! who knows ehe <3
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 CWS : 」 A little suggestive due to the intimate nature of blood drinking, but nothing sexual or even leading up to any sexual activity happens. That being said, if ur bothered by Wrio finding the reader tasting delicious + Reader enjoying being drank from a lot, maybe dont read;;; this is 2k words of non-sexual intimacy and love and trust !!
I have a confession;;;; I really really really love the vampire x human trope,,,,,, even just a teeny tiny bit more than I do the werewolf x human trope,,,, so,,,,, SO,,,,,,,,,, vamp! Wrio is setting all kinds of good signals off in my brain rn;;;;;;; i have;;;;;; many;;;;; many thoughts;;;; ON MY HANDS AND KNEES DONT LET THIS FLOP PLS 💔💔💔
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You're on his lap. Wriothesley's on his chair, hands practically clawing into the armrests. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd rip it. His eyes don't know where to look— they flit around every inch of his office, avoiding your own. But they always end up glancing back at your neck no matter how much he tries to pry them away.
He gulps.
"You're hungry."
"I'm not," he immediately denies, ignoring the way his fangs ache at just being able to smell your blood so close.
You frown. "You haven't eaten in a week, Wrio."
"I have—"
"Animal blood doesn't count. That shit can only work for so long, and you know it."
He swallows, hands clenching even tighter, nails digging into leather armrests. He looks away from you, rendered silent.
You watch him as how he tries to ignore you. Delicately, you place a hand on his cheek, urging his eyes back to meet yours.
"Why don't you just ask me?" You murmur. "You know I'd say yes. You know I'd do anything for you."
His face twists. "That's the problem," Wriothesley says bitterly, teeth clenched. Even from here, from the limited view you have past the curl of his lip, you see how his sharp fangs gleam. "I— if I drink from you, I won't want anything else. Ever. I already have a hard enough time just being around you, but if i get even just a taste..." he trails off, swallowing. "You're all I'm going to crave, sweetheart."
Wriothesley expects you to pause or hesitate. Maybe even extract yourself from him. He wouldn't blame you. Ever since the first time his thoughts betrayed him and he wondered what you'd taste like on his tongue (honey and nectar and heaven and ambrosia, all in one) he's been so careful to hide how he hungers for you, lest you think he's a monster who'd hurt you for his own gain.
In an ideal world, you never would have had to see him like this— starving, thirsting. Every single cell in his body urging him to get on his knees and beg you for just a taste. He'd get the fear and the apprehension, even though it'd crack a little piece of his cold, unbeating heart.
But you just roll your eyes and unbutton the collar of your shirt. leaning down so the side of your neck is right within his sight. His mouth dries as the thump of your pulse comes ever closer, freezing him in place.
"You're not going to hurt me," you say, conviction in your voice. You inch closer.
Wriothesley feels another part of his self restraint collapse.
Against his better judgement, he's actually thinking about it now. He crumbled so fast that it might be a little pathetic, he knows. Maybe his mind is addled from the hunger, maybe he's addled by his hunger for you, but he knows that he's fraying with every millisecond that you spend so close.
"No, not— not there," He protests quietly, even though he's itching to reach out and sink his teeth into your pulse. Fuck, you smell delicious up close. He's damn near losing his mind here, the object of his love and the greatest temptation to his gluttony practically sitting on his lap, offering up something that he's craved for so long. Still, he gathers what bits and pieces of his restraint that he can and manages to gently nudge you back, just enough that he can think without being driven mad by the idea of his mouth on your neck.
The protest is already ready on your tongue, but he takes a gentle hold of your wrist instead, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin, and the pulse under his fingers makes the emptiness in his stomach increases tenfold.
"Here," he tells you. "It'll be easier to push me away if you need to."
You say nod, pushing your wrist closer to his mouth. "Drink up," you tell him. He pushes away his hesitation, and with one last lingering kiss, he presses his mouth to your wrist and bites.
And fuck, he was right.
Heaven and sunlight and euphoria bursts on his tongue, making his brain practically short circuit. Wriothesley concludes then and there that compared to you, anything and everything else he's ever tasted was bland in comparison. He can barely even attempt to describe it— with each drop you willingly give, his hunger is both sated and amplified. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and a whimper muffled into your skin.
When you hum, warm fingers carding through his hair and urging him to take more, he feels like he ascends. Acting on instinct, his arm snakes around your middle to hold you in place— to keep you close. His grip on you is firm, but he's careful not to dig his fingers too hard into your skin.
And as much as this is affecting him, it's affecting you too. Your head grows light in the best way possible, like you're experiencing a euphoric high. You scratch a bit harder at his scalp, pulling a desperate noise from his lips that makes you tremble in his hold. You'll sit here for as long as he needs to feel better, for as long as he needs you.
Quicker than you would have wanted, Wriothesley reluctantly pulls away. By then the color's only just started to come back to his face and he's panting like he's been on a brisk jog. He looks much less sickly, yes, but you observe with a frown that he's still not quite yet at tip-top shape.
Hesitantly, almost reverently, he presses a kiss to the wound on your wrist, then gives the smallest of licks. it tingles, but after a moment the sting of it fades to a dull throb, and then nothing. But before he can push you off, you're leaning down again, same position as before, with your neck in his line of view. An open invitation.
"You need to drink more," you murmur. You try to ignore the rush of blood in your face, the tingle in your core. For as much as he was scared of getting addicted to you, you fear now you're getting addicted to him, too.
"I shouldn't," Wriothesley says, barely above a whisper.
He should push you off— should let you rest. Should wrap you in his coat and get you some water and a snack after you've already let him drink so much of you.
It had been hard enough to resist earlier, but now? Your blood is pumping so hard he can practically hear it. And you taste so sweet. You had made the slightest of noises when he fed on you— he doubts you even realized it, what with the haze you were in. Just the smallest of whines when he drank from your wrist, but each breathy sigh and whisper of his name was enough to make him crave more.
A small, traitorous corner of his mind wonders if you'd be even more vocal with his teeth on your neck.
He swallows, knowing he's already fighting a losing battle. He's so, so weak for you. His one arm doesn't budge from around your waist, but his hand moves up to cup your cheek. He drags your eyes to meet his, and you can see the seriousness amidst the hunger.
"You tell me if anything hurts." Wriothesley's arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. "Anything. Please."
You hum, happy, nuzzling closer into the cradle of his grip. "Okay. I know you'll stop if I ask." And oh the faith you have in him has heat pooling in his gut and a foreign pressure grow behind his eyes.
His voice is hoarse he says, "Yeah sweetheart. Of course I will."
He comes close and you shift your head, giving him more space to work. First thing he does isn't even bite— he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with kisses and licks and nips, delighting in the small protest of 'that tickles!' that he elicits from you.
You let him shower you in affection a little bit more, but eventually your hand works into his hair, tugging. "Okay, no more stalling," you say, breathless. "C'mon, time to eat."
And he's still nervous of taking too much— can feel his stomach roil at just the thought of hurting you, but he trusts you. Trusts you as much as you trust him, too. So he takes another deep breath, presses one last tender kiss to your skin, and sinks his teeth into your neck.
A small whisper of him name escapes our throat just as a groan leaves him because fuck— you taste even better. Flavor multiplied times what feels like a hundred, making his cold cold heart do flips and tricks in his chest. The hand you bury in his hair tugs, pulls, but brings him closer instead of away. You push him further into you, begging him to take more, and he happily obliges.
Wriothesley presses kisses and licks to your neck between drinking down mouthfuls, making sure not to waste a single drop. He's pulling you against his chest so tightly— hand bunched in the back of your top that you fear he might rip the fabric, but you decide that you don't really care if he does.
With each drink he takes, each satisfied, muffled noise that leaves him, you feel yourself melt more and more against him until you're boneless in his hold. Despite how he drinks as if it's his last, he still has the good mind to shift you a bit higher in his lap, to make sure he's holding you comfortably. His hand rubs soothing circles into your hip, and he tries to recline back into his seat as much as he can so you can lean into him.
Your heart pounds even harder, the blood rushing to your ears, and you think he feels it with the way his hunger seems to double.
Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze hazy and growing sleepy with each progressive second. But it doesn't hurt in the slightest. You feel warm, if anything— warm and happy that you were able to help him, and make sure he's well.
He's slowing a little. His hunger finally abating and making way for something more tender and soft. You scratch his scalp lovingly and lean your head against his. A sweet, sleepy kiss pressed to his temple makes his pace falter.
Wriothesley soon separates himself from your neck, pressing a kiss and a kitten lick to your newest wound. Like the one on your wrist, it tingles for just a bit before any stinging or pain vanishes entirely.
"Hey baby," he murmurs, pulling away slightly to look at your face, but making sure his arm is still wrapped around you. To keep you steady, to remind you that he's here. He smiles a little at your happy, dazed expression, but even now you can see the lingering worry. "You with me?"
You respond with a hum, nodding as best as you can. "Yeah. 'm okay."
Wriothesley laughs a little, watching you stumble over your words. He lets you fall flat against his chest with you head hanging on his shoulder and cradles you against him. One hand goes to twine your fingers with his, desperate to hold you as much as he can, and the other snugly tucks your head under his chin. In his embrace, you feel the beat of your heart gradually slow back to a calm. It leaves you boneless and tired, the crash of it all finally hitting you and making your eyelids flutter.
"That's good." You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. "Did anything hurt at all, honey?"
You shake your head. Too tired to look up at him, so you squeeze his hand instead. A kiss is pressed to the apple of his throat. "Nothing. I'm just tired, 's all. I'm fine."
He holds you closer, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Thank you, my love. Let's get you something to eat and drink, then we sleep— how does that sound?"
You just hum your agreement, limbs feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Wriothesley places a kiss to the crown of your head. With utmost gentleness, he cradles you in his arms as he stands, trying not to jostle you as he makes his way out of the room.
"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs, heart growing three sizes in his chest, arms full of the most precious thing in his world.
You bury yourself further into him. "Love you more, Wrio."
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
Note
more raider joel PLEAAAASE 🙏
Failed Escape
4k, raider!Joel x f!reader / raider master / joel
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Mood board by @milla-frenchy
SUMMARY: when Joel brings you to a familiar area for a raid, you run away but get stopped by FEDRA officers with bad intentions, worse than Joel. Joel saves you.
WARNINGS: NSFW I8+ dark, violence, assault, manhandling, captivity, restraints, exhibitionism, humiliation, unsafe dubcon vPIV, fingering, oral, filth, orgasm denial, cockwarming, police violence, allusions to very dark fedra activity.
A/N: This is 4th in the Raider series but can be read alone. credits / shoutouts - @romanarose escape ask, touch-erase anon, rope kink anon, many others with thots & thirst.
“I'm sorry," you sob, and you really are.  It's the second raid you’ve been on this week. You thought you recognized the forest behind the house, making it your best chance to escape.  You don’t have anything or anyone to go home to, but you’re hungry.  You’re tired.  You don't sleep. Sometimes you wake up with Joel’s arms too tight around you. If you move, they tighten more and you can hardly breathe.
Those things on their own might be tolerable, but the rest of Joel's men are the real problem. That first day, Joel told you he’d make sure nothing happened to you.  He made it very clear to you and everyone else that you were his and no one else could touch you. At this point you don’t always mind his touch, but you worry about what could happen to you if something happened to Joel.  The guys are disgusting, and not just the ones Joel originally saved you from, as you learned at the stash house.
There are a lot, and they’re brutal with their prey.  They’re not just rough, they’re mean, degrading.  They know they aren’t supposed to look at you, but they still steal a hungry glance when Joel’s not watching.  From what you’ve overheard them doing to their victims, your greatest fear is that Joel will die or get overthrown and you’ll be at their mercy. The day Joel first claimed you, he warned you about those men and how much worse they'd be. At this point, you've seen and heard enough to know it's true.
But even that prospect doesn't sound bad right now compared to what you just went through.  You never should have run.
- - - - -
You stumbled through the woods and when you were almost to the other side, you spotted three armed men in uniform - FEDRA.  You called, “Help!” You were relieved.  They could get you somewhere safe. But when they turned around, it was only a couple of seconds before they aimed their rifles at you.  You fell to your knees begging for help.  
They laughed and talked to each other like you weren’t there.  
“I dunno, she looks infected to me,” the tallest one said.  
“Sure are seein’ a lot of infected this week,” another said and elbowed the tall guy in the ribs.  
The apparent leader of the pack ordered the men to take your clothes off.  They stripped you of everything, even your underwear, and felt you up while they were at it.  One of them stuck a finger in you.   Then, the leader put a single bullet in a revolver, spun the cylinder,  handed it to the tall one, and said “your turn.”  
 "Already? C'mon, I don't wanna fuck another dead girl."  
“At least they can’t scratch you up kickin’ and screamin’,” the leader said.
“Yeah, so what’s the point?” the third one said.  “That’s half the fun.”  
"Better say a prayer then," the leader said. "Go on," he urged. 
The man put the muzzle to your temple and your life flashed before your eyes.  He pulled the trigger and the click made you wince.  You kept your eyes pinched shut and when you slowly opened them, you could hardly believe you were alive. 
Leaves crunched behind you in the woods.  "ANIMALS, all of you," Joel boomed, and you turned around to see him with his rifle aimed at the men.  
"Get down and cover your ears, baby." Joel didn’t even look at you. 
Without so much as blinking, he shot the leader right in the forehead, then kept walking toward them.  Shot another one like it was the easiest thing he had ever done. Not even a flinch. 
Meanwhile, the tall one, the one with the revolver, charged straight at him but Joel still didn’t flinch.  He calmly used the butt of his rifle to strike him square in the face. When the man fell to the ground, Joel straddled him and pummeled his face.  
Still straddling the man, Joel asked you what they did to you.  You told him about the revolver first. Joel took it from the man, spun the cylinder, then held it out for you, but you didn't take it. You were cowering naked on the ground.  “Go ahead,” Joel said.  The man pleaded for his life.  You hesitated, and Joel said “Now,” firmly.  You crawled closer, took the revolver, aimed, and pulled the trigger.  The man screamed and winced, but the gun only clicked.  Joel took it back, spun it again, and handed it back to you.  “Again.”  That time, you shot the man in the chest and the recoil sent you back on your ass.  It wasn’t a kill shot.  The man tried to speak but could only gurgle.  Blood spilled out of his mouth. Your face went cold and you were shaking. 
Joel made sure the man was disarmed, then came over and started putting your shirt back on you. 
"Is that what you want? Shared and slaughtered by those pigs?” He motioned to the three men on the ground.  You started crying, still sprawled on the dirt
- - - - -
Joel puts his rifle around his back, squats down, grabs you by both elbows, and violently forces you to your feet.
"Breakin' my goddamn heart, sweet pea."  He seethes with disappointment.
"I'm sorry," you repeat through your tears, still begging his eyes to meet yours.  Finally, he puts his rifle around his back and looks at you. You must look so pathetic.  Crying, knees covered in dirt, still naked from the waist down.  The dying man stops gurgling.  You whimper yet again, "I'm sorry."
He looks you up and down and seems to soften a little as he responds, "I know, baby.”  But notably, he doesn't say it's okay. He doesn't say he forgives you. You collapse into his chest and sob. He pulls you closer and you're startled when his arousal swells into you.
"How'd they touch you?" Joel asks, then clenches his jaw as though bracing himself for impact.  At least he knows they didn't fuck you since they were all still dressed, to his great relief. 
Joel has your pants in his hands waiting for your answer. You tell him.  
He sighs and squats down.  He wedges his hand between your thighs and you're wet with arousal from feeling his wood.  "Was it like this?" He asks, sliding his fingers against your folds.  You don't know what to say.  It wasn’t like this because it didn’t feel good. He plunges two fingers into you and asks, "like this?" He digs the heel of his palm into his arousal.
“Kind of”
His face tenses into a snarl as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. What does 'kind of' mean?” 
“It hurt.”
“Too many fingers?” 
“No, just one, but too rough.  And too dry.” Your cheeks burn.  
His eyes light up in grim satisfaction.  “Ok, baby.”  He takes his fingers out and wraps his arms around you again.  You start crying again. 
“I’m sorry,” you say for the millionth time.
“I know you are, sweet pea."  He brushes the tears off your cheeks.   “Wanna be sorry here or in the house?” You can only assume what he means.  You just hope it won’t be too brutal, given your betrayal. 
His breath deepens, and he’s slowly stroking a larger bulge in his skin-tight pants now.  You have to think about it for a moment.  You’re anxious to get away from the dead FEDRA bodies, but the other raiders and victims are still in the house. 
Joel adds, “Or in the van?”    
“In the van."
He brushes the dirt off you and helps you step into your pants.
-
When you get back to the house they’ve been raiding, Joel doesn’t take you straight to the van.  There are a few bodies strewn about.  The hostages are all in one room.  Joel takes you to a bathroom away from them.  
He locks the door, hangs his rifle on the towel hook, then turns on the shower.  He strips you and gets behind you, both of you facing the mirror.  He asks, “They do anything else to you? Touch you anywhere else?” You tell him they touched your breasts.   He inhales deeply and clenches his jaw, then cups both your breasts from behind, slowly massaging them.  "Like this?" His hardness presses into you.  
"Kind of, but it didn’t feel good." 
Half his mouth smiles, and in the mirror you notice him scanning your body head to toe. Then he turns you around to face him.
His hands engulf your ass cheeks, pulling you into his pants.  The feeling of his arousal against your front makes you weak.
A massive hand drifts to the center of your ass, and his middle finger lightly glides up and down your crack.   “They touch you in here?”
“No.” 
"Good. They're all gone now, okay baby?” 
-
The water is ice cold as usual and your nipples are painfully hard as Joel lathers them.  He washes your whole body, looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. When he goes between your legs, you sense his intentions and warn him, “Um, you can’t put soap in there.”
He pauses, bemused.  “Why’s that , sweet pea?”
“It’s bad for you, you can get an infection.”
He looks at the soap contemplatively and says “okay, baby.”  
He rinses you off and tells you to sit on the toilet seat.  Then he sits on the ground, his legs to each side of the toilet, knees up.  He gets you to spread your legs, come to the edge of the seat, and lean back.  The way he’s breathing as he eyes your pussy gives you butterflies.  
He puts your knees over his shoulders.  He drags two knuckles down your slippery folds, then extends and inserts his fingers and curls them, dragging his thick digits against your walls, trying to scrape off any trace of FEDRA. The smallest skin particle would be too much.  It's extreme, but you don’t mind how it feels – physically, at least.  It’s also not a bad view.  His neck veins  bulge, his eyes are dark.
He looks like he has a job to do, and he goes about it quite industriously.  His beard scratches your inner thighs and outer lips. He licks a thick stripe from your taint to your clit, then drags his tongue through every crevice of your folds on each side, making you squirm with tension.  He swirls his tongue around your clit and sucks your hood. Then he plunges his tongue onto you and your whole body feels hollow and light.  His tongue is so thick it's like being fucked.  You shudder and he glances up darkly.  His lips move diligently with the effort and he sucks like he’s trying to cave your walls in on his tongue.  Your thighs quiver and he glances up at you again.  When you're right about to come, he pulls away.  
"Good as new," he says as he wipes his beard.
You were so close to coming and you can hardly bear the tension. 
As though reading your mind, he says, "This ain’t for fun, baby. Not today.  Not after what you did."
He braces his hands on your thighs and stands up with a groan, sporting major wood.  "Stay here," he says coldly.  You squeeze your thighs together.  He takes his rifle off the back of the door and puts it on.  He leaves for a few minutes and takes all your clothes with him including your underwear.  
As soon as he walks out of the bathroom, one hand goes between your legs and the other to your breast, working toward the quickest release possible, biting your lip.  The vision of him between your legs is blinding your mind’s eye from thinking about anything else. You come just in time, covering your own mouth with your inner arm. You feel a wave of shame after you come  - how depraved to get off in this situation. But the tension was too much to take. 
Joel comes back with a duffle bag and a dress. He seems to notice your post-orgasm flush.   He puts the dress on you and it's not a minidress but it's shorter than you're comfortable with, especially if you don't get to wear underwear.  It’s thin, too.  He strokes your inner thighs and gives you an accusatory look. 
"You come when I say." 
Your face burns and you nod. 
"Told you I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you. . . then I did."  He looks guilty, almost anguished. "You're gonna learn to do what I say, understand?"
You nod. 
"For your own good, sweet pea."
"Yeah," you whisper. 
You try to tug the dress down and hesitantly ask, "Can I have, um-" 
"No," Joel says and slings the duffle bag over his shoulder. "Got you some but you're not gonna need it for a while."  
You swallow thickly and remember you chose the van.  
-
Joel manhandles you into the passenger seat, takes some paracord out of the duffle bag, and ties your wrists in a special knot.  Then he ties them behind your head to the headrest.  
He strings rope around the headrest and across your chest in each direction forming an X across your chest with your breasts on either side.  He ties that to the wrist restraints. The rope digs into your neck uncomfortably. 
“Try to get out and it’ll only get tighter.  And I’m gonna know about it.”  
“I won’t.” You’re earnest. 
“Hope not,” he says.  “‘Cause I’ve got a lot more of this.”  He holds up a bunch of paracord, puts it back in the bag, then looks you up and down and wets his lips.  “Looks good on ya, too.”  He shoves the duffle bag behind your seat.  “Real good.”  
He slides his hand between your legs and shoves his middle finger right inside you. His head falls back and his eyelids are heavy.   You’re still wet enough that it doesn’t hurt.  He thumbs your clit while pushing two, then three fingers in and out of you.  Then he stills his fingers inside you.  He strokes the bulge in his pants with the heel of his palm.  His mouth falls open and he studies your face.  Then he flattens his fingers and rubs your whole pussy.  It feels so good, so unbearably good.  Your spine arches.  He takes his time and brings you to the brink again, then cruelly removes his hand.  
“Stay here.” He points at the rope.  “Remember – try to get out, it’ll only get tighter.”
You nod, clenching your thighs together, barely paying attention.
“It’s for your own good.” The tension feels like torture.
-
A few minutes later, Joel comes back out to the van, and thank god.  Your hands are getting numb and the rope is chafing your neck and cleavage.    He opens the door and examines the paracord around your wrists.  “Good girl,” he says.  He looks you up and down as though deciding what to do with you.  He exhales with a puff of his cheeks and rubs the protrusion in his tight pants.  At this point, nothing would surprise you, and you wonder if you should have made a move in the bathroom to suck him off. 
He swiftly unties the paracord then unbuckles his belt, gazing at you in a dark trance. 
He aggressively shoves his strong arm under you, then you make space and he wedges himself between you and the seat. You’re in his lap again.  
Initially, he pulls you back into him and your breath hitches when you feel his hard package beneath you.   His hips lift and his arousal swells harder. He breathes heavily and his chest inflates against your back.  Then he extends his legs to make a downward slope and scoots you forward on his thighs.  You hear his zipper come down.  When you chose the van, you didn’t know it would be this.  You’re humiliated, but your body purrs in anticipation.   
You’re startled by the van’s back doors opening.  
“Come on,” Joel whispers flatly, nudging you to hover over him.  When you rise a few inches,  he lifts your dress and guides your naked ass backwards, hovering in his lap. He presses the curve of your spine and you tilt your hips.  He guides you until you feel his firm tip at your dripping entrance.  "You want this?" You nod almost imperceptibly, then he says, "Go ahead." You sink onto him with a soft gasp.  “That's right, take it," he says. He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls you down, breathing, "yes." Then he sighs "Ahh," as his girth parts your insides.  He has to use both arms and a thrust to bury himself entirely, then your body’s flush with his. His noises are quiet but visceral, softer than usual, but just as masculine.
You’re pitiful, like a rag doll in your thin dress, no panties, no bra, sitting on his cock.  Bending to his will like he’s your puppeteer.  And you might as well have an arm shoved all the way up you.  He’s inhabiting every bit of space in your guts. 
Men are loading things into the back of the van.  Joel leans you forward to spread your dress over his lap.  Then he pulls you back and lifts his hips, making his cock move deep inside you.   The main door to the van slides open and men start piling in.  Your seat is always in Joel’s lap, that’s nothing new, so hopefully no one notices you’re impaled on his massive cock.  
But that’s going to be difficult considering he’s not sitting still. He rocks his hips, pushing his length up into you at a slow pace. This has the effect of lifting your whole body each time.  Someone sitting behind you could surely see your head bobbing slowly, smoothly, but rhythmically.  His hands cup your breasts through your dress.  Tension is coiling in your core.  With his next upward thrust, Joel softly grunts into your hair.  Quieter than usual.  He isn’t worried about being seen or heard –   That’s not his style at all – It’s just that, in the van, it doesn’t take much to put on a show.  In a way, if he can subject everyone to it in near-silence, that’s even more dominant. 
Joel’s hips continue to lift into you and he slides his hand into the low-cut neckline to grope your naked breast.  The driver glances over and does a double-take, then swallows sheepishly and quickly averts his gaze, but reaches for the bandana on the dashboard and hands it to Joel.  They’re going to the stash house so Joel pauses to tie it over your eyes.  
Joel grunts softly into your hair as his cock is hugged tight by your warmth. None of the men talk to him.  They chatter at low volume amongst themselves, and he doesn’t have the best hearing.  You hear his name in a whisper from the back of the van and get self conscious that they’re watching. But of course they are. If Joel hears them, he doesn’t seem to mind.  With each tilt of his hips, his thick cock moves a short but impactful distance, nudging your g-spot.  You’re already so full, but it fills you more each time. The tension tightens, radiating to your whole body.  Begging for release.  The motion is smooth and fluid beneath you.  It’s like you’re riding an ocean wave.  Your breathing gets heavier.  
You squeeze your thighs together, tightening around his cock.  Joel grunts into your neck, then whispers “I don’t think so, sweet pea” and stops moving.  He’s really punishing you. For almost the rest of the ride, he holds you completely still on his cock.  Your heart races and your face is hot.  He’s leaning back against the seat and has you leaning back against him.  You ride in silence, listening to the noise of the road under the tires, pitch black under the blindfold. Joel’s as thick and hard as ever and the swell of his shaft twitches.  Every bump in the road provides welcome friction between his warm rod and your desperate walls.  
You know you're getting close to the stash house when you reach the gravel road, at which point you’re continuously bounced on his cock.  You can feel your arousal leaking out of you and onto him.  Your combined musk fills the van and the driver cracks his window as the terrain effectively makes you ride Joel's cock despite his best efforts to deprive you. He holds you tight, trying to keep you completely still against him. You aren’t sure if you’ll be able to stop yourself from coming.  
“You were bad today,” he whispers lowly into your neck, and you feel a wave of shame. “In the worst way," he adds coldly.  
You turn your cheek as though trying to meet his eyes through the blindfold, but his hand strongly grips your jaw and forces your face straight ahead again.  
“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you bounce there, filled to the brim with his girth. 
“Gonna be a good girl from now on?”
“Yes.” 
“Come when I do, then,” his low voice murmurs into your ear, sending a rush through your body.  He better come really soon. 
He inhales deeply through his nose and puts his arm flat on your back with his strong forearm resting along your spine and his hand firmly gripping the nape of your neck.  He forces you down, and you fold forward with your head near your knees.  Then he covers your mouth tight with his other hand.  His arm presses down on your back as his hips lift up into you.  He grunts as he erupts inside you.  His thick cock powerfully pulses and sends you clenching and fluttering around him, softly moaning into his hand as you find your own waves of release. It feels like it lasts forever.  
“Maniac,” someone says under their breath as Joel lets you sit back up.  
"You did good," he whispers flatly into your hair. To your shame, your heart can't help but swell at his approval, even though the coldness in his tone stings. He's obviously preoccupied by what you did.
You can't discern most of the hushed murmurs until another voice ominously whispers from the back of the van, “He can’t watch her 24/7 forever.” Joel must not hear it or else you imagine the man wouldn’t be breathing for long.  
-
The van parks at the stash house and Joel takes off your blindfold.  He helps lift you off his lap and his length slides out, bringing with it a dripping mess of both of you.  Your insides slowly pull themselves back together as your combined juices trickle down your thigh. You step down out of the van while he zips up his pants and you dab yourself as best you can with the dress, face burning along with your neck, shoulders, and hands.  With Joel facing away from the men, you can feel them staring at you, but as soon as he steps out of the van, they look away and go about unloading. 
Joel retrieves the duffle bag from behind the seat, but he doesn't bring it into the stash house with you.  He takes out a blanket and wraps it around you, making you decent. You shouldn't feel like it's sweet, but there's a passing moment before you remind yourself the gesture is for him, not you. He doesn't want anyone else to see you. He said as much the first time you were there. Joel takes out some rope from the bag, and before he brings you into the house, he makes sure his switchblade is in his pocket. Then he firmly grabs you by the elbow and takes you inside.
"You're gonna have to be brave for me in a minute, baby."
-
we'll pick up from here next time & a couple more asks will become relevant.
Thank you so much for reading and interacting! We've been simping for this sicko for a month now and i really enjoy our banter and dialogue about him and the other toxic joels.
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @ele-meno-p @internetobssessed1234-blog LMK if I left you off
RJ: @str84pedro
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he115re · 1 month
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Crule
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Kind of in the same realm as the mark one but it's heachan. Heachan brainrot mayhaps? Yet another blurb cuz yes. I'm definitely not also doing something else for all the dreamies Nuh uh
MDNI!!,masturbation, exhibitionism, mean heachan, teasing, cock warming, unprotected penetration
Another drabble
Heachan is also the type to make you watch him jerk off. But maybe he's more cruel about it. He laughs when you rub your thighs together. Mocks you when you beg him to just fuck you. He wants to see you crying for his cock, not a single hand laid on you, just from the mere sight. He wants you as desperate as he is. Just wants you a dumb, crying, begging mess before he finally gives you what you want.
But even then he's still gonna toy with you making you say exactly what you want. And he will do the opposite just to push you even more. Or maybe he'll do what you want but with a twist.
"Please~" you hiccup as he sits over you throbbing dick in his hand as he watches you touch yourself "please what hun?~" he says in a sickeningly sweet tone, he knows exactly what you want. As you reach out for his hand to show him he moves it away "ah ah ah use your words" he teases now sitting back on his heels. Hands still held up "hyuck please just touch me.. Just-just do whatever you want just touch me please" you say in an embarrassingly desperate tone.
"You sure about that?" He asks in a warning tone as he places a hand on your hip. You nod frantically already lost from just having his hand on you "please please please-" your ramble gets cut off short as he covers your mouth "your funeral" he snickers out aligning himself with your entrance. Sheathing himself in with one painfully slow thrust. You close you're eyes at the stretch placing your hand atop the one on your mouth.
After a few minutes of adjusting you tap his hand to signal for him to move. You feel him moving a bit on the bed and then all movement stops. You tap his hand again, maybe he didn't feel it that time. Yet again he doesn't move. You move his hand from your mouth opening both your eyes and mouth. But as you go to speak your words get stuck in your throat. You're met with the most shit eating grin. "H-heachan you can move now" you say knowing his answer. He knows exactly what he's doing "oh I know" he says nodding his head "but you said I could do what I want... And I'm already touching you so you did get what you wanted"
"Now if you don't mind" he says sitting back on his knees again bringing your hips along with him. The slightly fricction making you squirm"I have some anime to catch up on, Mark really wanted me to watch this one" he says picking up his discarded phone. Now you're starting to regret your words.
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elliespeach · 1 year
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play nice | ellie williams
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˗ˏˋ"i'm not incompetent, despite what you may think." ´ˎ˗
pairing: ellie x afab reader synopsis: ellie and you hated one another more than anything and you had successfully avoided each other for nearly two years before being forced to patrol together. the day you two endured happened to be a lot more than just patrol and despite hating your guts, ellie is determined to keep you safe. warnings: lowkey mean!ellie, scary men, ellie n reader defend themselves w guns (animal death), lots of swearing, being chased, being stranded in remote location wordcount: 6k+ author note: guysssss i love the fuck out of this trope i hope i did it justice, got a bit carried away w the wordcount but i like it that way cus i dont think this will be a series!
the early morning of the jackson crowd woke you yet again, groggy and hungover you squirmed out of bed. you were supposed to be off today, taking the day to rest and recover from last night but maria had other plans for you. she had asked if you could pick up a patrol shift, a route no one likes taking, for a guy no one really likes anyway. you said yeah because you owe maria a favor, hating yourself for allowing your one day off to be tarnished. 
grumpy, you threw on your usual patrol outfit. a heavy jacket, a sweater underneath, jeans and a trusty pair of boots. the clock read only thirty minutes before you were to be posted and figured you would stop on the way to grab breakfast. 
you gave sleepy hellos to your neighbors as you passed. a lot of them shoveling their sidewalks from the snow that blanketed the earth the night before, they would be doing it all day and suddenly you were that upset about patrol duty. it beats shoveling snow. 
entering the restaurant the smell of bacon and eggs filled your nose, making your stomach lurch in your body. the hangover really settling in, you almost opted to not get food. but you saw maria at the end of the counter, leaning over and chatting with the line cook. 
“mornin’ maria,” you plastered on the best smile you could muster at the moment. “who am i with today? i didn’t check the schedule.” 
maria’s face faltered, “so that’s why you said yes,” you looked at her confused. “you can’t back out on me now.” 
“maria, what’re you talking about?” you questioned, but with the expression on her face, you came to a realization that your day was about to get a whole lot worse. “i’m not going if she is.” 
she sighed your name, “you girls were friendly once, you can’t play nice for one day?” 
“ellie can’t play nice.” you stated as a fact. and it was. 
ellie and you had a complicated history, arriving in jackson only a few days after she did, you two had become an inseparable pair. what wasn’t obvious to everyone else at the time was that you both had feelings for one another despite being young teenagers. 
one day, in her garage, ellie and you had been listening to music together while she drew in her sketchbook. you had been watching her the whole time, admiring how talented she was. at this point in time, you knew she liked you as much as you did her–or at least you thought you did. when you tried to kiss her that day, she freaked out on you and pushed you off her bed in a hurry. 
you had felt betrayed by the only person in jackson you truly trusted with anything. you never spoke of it again, in fact you never really spoke to her again about anything. you two became distant, avoiding each other at all costs because when you were in close proximity you’d fight like cats and dogs. you couldn’t hold in your snide remarks and neither could she, but when she spoke her mind it was always more cruel than you could ever imagine. 
you hated ellie williams and now you are expected to be on a full-day patrol with her. you couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of day you were about to have, regretting any and all decisions that led to this moment. 
“so you play nice. i won’t ask you to work with her again after today, promise.” maria begged and you rolled your eyes accepting her offer. 
you said your goodbyes and maria handed you two sandwiches to go, hoping that a sandwich will fix the multiple years of hatred burning inside of ellie for you. knowing it wouldn’t work but not wanting to waste food, you obliged by taking the food and going on your way. 
your walk was slow to the stables, wanting to prolong the long day ahead of you. when you reached your destination you saw ellie at the end of the barn. she was patting her horse, shimmer, and readying her for the trip. “fuck,” you whispered to yourself before making your way over. 
as you approached her, ellie went stiff and turned her back. not you.
“maria got us these sandwiches,” you said plainly, holding out one of them to her. her eyes were dull, along with her expression and it made your blood boil. “well?” you asked, already impatient with her. 
“ate already.” ellie responded quickly before grabbing the reins on shimmer and leading her out of the barn.
you silently mouthed, “wow.” to yourself before packing the food in your backpack for later. taking your horse from his pen, you lead him in the same direction as ellie. you came upon the gate and mounted your horse before pulling beside ellie, stealing a quick look at her. 
ellie darted her eyes away from you quickly as she saw your head turn towards her, feeling a hatred burning in her chest and she thought she saw you roll your eyes in her peripheral vision. you’d never admit this, barely admitting it to yourself, but despite all the loathing you felt for her you still found yourself attracted to her all these years later. it sucks that she is a bitch, otherwise maybe you two would have been something. 
the usual spiel of being safe, record keeping and more was being announced but ellie’s voice carried its way over to you. “do you even know where we’re going?” 
you scoffed, “i’m not incompetent, despite what you may think.” 
she turned her head towards you, a fake smile splayed across her face. “i don’t think, i know.” 
“oh, fuck you, williams.” you spat at her, looking back towards the gate, not wanting to remember she’s right next to you. 
but she was, in all her rudeness. “don’t you wish,” she said casually in a mocking tone. you had to stop your mouth from dropping open at her comment. she knew exactly what she was saying to you, and it just confirmed that there is no fixing this relationship if she could make a comment that low. 
the alarms went off and the horses started to ride out of jackson. you followed suit, leading your horse out of the gate and turning right down the snow covered path. ellie followed behind you at a distance and you liked it that way. 
ellie was watching you from behind, steering your horse through the pathway. for some reason, she couldn’t pull her eyes off of you the entire trip to the first look-out. her mind plagued her with thoughts of you and she dared not to trespass into that territory again. coming up on the familiar look-out, she pushed the thoughts away and replaced them with the hurtful things you’ve said to her over the years which did little to comfort her either. 
“just wait, i’ll mark the book.” you said, dismounting your horse and heading into the small building. you had always figured it was a radio tower as a giant broken satellite was perched on the roof, slamming open the garage door you made your way inside. 
“i’ll come with, don’t need you fuckin’ up the book.” ellie remarked behind you and you rolled your eyes as she passed you, just having to be the first one to the log book and she was. she beat you to the pen and began writing that there was no infected in the area. 
as ellie finished writing, she searched around the room for you. you were standing by the window, eyes peeking into the binoculars overlooking the route you two were going to be taking. 
“lemme look,” she insisted, reaching up to snatch them from your hand. you pulled it away quickly, swatting her hand. 
“i’m fucking capable of looking through these things.” you nearly yelled. 
“you’re not even wearing your glasses, give it to me.” she growled beside you, again reaching for the binoculars as you held them away from her. 
“how kind of you to notice,” you said sarcastically, gently pushing her away from you. 
“you look better with them on, princess.” she hissed using the nickname she had given you years ago. it felt strange to hear it again, especially in such a negative way. ellie eventually gives up on taking the binoculars from you. you started to peer through them again, making out your path as she huffed beside you. she was acting bored, fake kicking the debris that littered the floor, leaning her back against the window staring into the room behind you. 
looking away from the view for a split second, catching her eyes you retorted, “you look better without them on, figured i’d at least try and have a good day.” a devilish smile washed over your face and ellie didn’t respond. you brought the binoculars back up to your eyes and they widened with fright. 
from your viewpoint you were able to see multiple men all on horseback and guns at their side, they weren’t jackson men as you would have recognized them immediately. they had blood stained clothes and looked like they haven’t showered in weeks. but the most disturbing thing you saw was a person, naked and shaking in the cold tied by their neck to one of the horses, being pulled along. this wasn’t a group to be stumbled upon by and they were right smack in the middle of your route about two miles from you both, getting closer to jackson with every step. “oh, fuck me..” you trailed off and ellie chuckled beside you. 
“like i said, you wis–” 
“ellie, look!” you hissed, shoving the binoculars in her hand but she wouldn’t take them. 
“no, apparently i can’t handle it or something!” she shoved them back in your hands. 
“ellie, would you just look while i radio the other patrols?” you basically begged and ellie heard the fear in your voice. knowing you would never let her see you this way, she sat up straight taking the binoculars from you. she watched as you ran to the table with the log book, getting your radio ready. 
she peered through them and saw what you did and ellie’s demeanor changed swiftly. she turned back to look at you, panicking because the radio wasn’t transmitting. “fuck, this stupid thing!” you yelled, banging it against your hands so hard you thought you might leave a bruise. 
ellie acted fast, throwing the log book into a damaged closet to leave no trace and picking up her backpack. “if we can’t get a signal here, we gotta move to where we can get one. the closest patrol is ten miles in the other direction, we can beat them there, they aren’t going fast.” 
she glanced at you, ready to move and you were frozen still trying to get the radio to work. she rounded on you and stopped yourself from breaking your own hand with the radio. “we have to move, okay? they won’t touch you, i promise.” 
her promise seemed sincere and in the moment you didn’t question it. you nodded your head and took a deep breath before she handed you her bag. you both sprinted to your horses, but not before ellie closed the garage with a loud thud. getting on horseback, ellie led the way, weaving in and out of trees staying off the path so as to not cause suspicion with the tracks in the snow. 
you followed suit, not letting her gain more than a few yards on you at a time. after about ten minutes of what seemed like endless trees you came upon an opening to a road. you didn’t recognize it, and as you came up beside ellie it looked like she didn’t either. you looked around desperately, fearing the men you had seen and what would happen to you both if they found you. 
“nothing on the radio?” she asked you, pulling her horse near you. 
“no, nothing.” you stated shakily, fiddling with the small radio. 
“shit,” she cursed aloud, but not loud enough for anyone else but you to hear. “c’mon, this way.” she led you down the road and as you came over a small hill a building came into the picture, a large building that looked like an old grocery store. 
as you were about to pull the radio from your back pocket, ellie and you both snapped your necks in the direction you had just come from. there was the distant sound of hooves, even in the snow and laughing that wasn’t the good kind. “they found our trail, in the building, now!” she snapped at you quietly and not seeing any other idea, you followed her. leading your horses into an empty window in the building and securing them in a locked office. 
the building was ransacked, absolutely nothing in sight but garbage and dead infected bodies. “if there is dead infected, this area must get patrolled,” ellie thought out loud, looking at the mangled bodies. 
“or they found it before we did,” you did the same, stepping over a dead infected woman. horses neighing outside brought you to a halt and ellie didn’t think twice about grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of view. shuffling past large empty boxes and even more dead infected there was a door labeled exit and ellie busted it open, shoving you inside before her. as she closed the door behind her, she heard glass breaking and men’s voices. 
you looked around in the small hallway, it was dark but you were able to see a small dim light peeking through a knocked over bookcase at the end. “ellie,” you whispered, pointing to the bookcase. quietly moving towards it, you started to lift up the bookcase revealing a large storage room with loading docks. placing the bookcase back down to block the entrance as quiet as you could. 
she nodded her head towards the loading doors, they were closed but not locked. you were about to lift them up for an escape when the exit door burst open and all that stood in between them and you two was the bookcase. you snapped your head in that direction and ellie grasped your arm, pulling you behind a large shipping crate. 
in good timing because as soon as you were secure the bookcase fell over with a loud bang that made you jump. you looked to ellie, who was trying to peek around the crate to catch a look. ellie saw three men stumble into the large room, guns and various other weapons on their belts. “come on out now!” one bellowed, causing you to grab ellie’s arm instinctively and she let you, not pulling it away in the slightest. 
ellie saw them looking around corners when one approached the loading doors, seeing it unlocked. “must’ve slipped out,” the brute snarled, fiddling with the door handle.”grab their horses, let’s go get their trail!” they triumphed, slowly leaving through the door they came in. the rest of their crew must be waiting out front, ellie knew this was your only chance. 
once the cost was clear ellie turned to you, “they’ll expect us to go through the back, let’s go back the way we came.” she whispered, taking her arm back. you nodded and followed her, she quickly moved past the bookcase and towards the door they had left wide open. seeing no one, and not hearing your horses she waved you on, exiting the grocery store through the broken window in which you had entered. 
coming back into the daylight their horse tracks went to the back of the building and you both took this opportunity to run into the trees on the opposite side of the deserted road. as you jumped into the snowy landscape, a horse neighed furiously. “hey! i see ‘em!” a grunty voice shouted and you and ellie took off running through the woods. you were following ellie, who was hoping this was the correct way back. but back where? where could she take you on foot they wouldn’t be able to catch up? the nearest patrol is miles out, but when you two didn’t show up for check in they would come looking. that could be hours before they find you, stumbling through the cold woods and ellie worried that you two wouldn’t make it through the night if you could get away from these guys. 
she pushed all of that away, focusing on the task at hand which was to get you away from them. you ran for a while, the woods came to life with sound, the horses behind you trying to bob and weave through the harsh trees, the heavy breathing of you and ellie crashing into the soft snow below you and the sinister sound of the men laughing as they narrowed down on you two. 
“keep running!” ellie shouted back to you as you passed her, she stopped reaching for her rifle and cocking it back. you didn’t listen, instead taking your pistol out at the same time. ellie was able to shoot down one of the men who had tried to flank them, his body tumbling down to the ground and his blood desecrating the pure white snow. 
focusing your vision as ellie reloaded her gun, you shot quickly. the bullet grazing one of the brutes in the cheek and he clutched his cheek as he barreled down on ellie–whose gun was jammed. you shot again, this time aiming for the horse’s legs and it went down before you could blink, hurdling the giant into a tree. he laid on the ground motionless as his buddies grew more angry, you grabbed ellie’s arm and she looked up to you with panicked eyes, slinging her forward in front of you she began running but not before checking that you were right behind her. 
hoping that the bodies of their friends would slow them down, you both sprinted away from the grizzly scene. ellie was in front of you, the tussle with them discombobulated her and she wasn’t sure what direction she was going in. everything was happening too fast for her to be able to stop and figure it out, and as she looked back to check on you and the proximity of her attackers she saw your eyes widen and as you screamed her name, she fell down an embankment. 
you didn’t think twice, knowing this would be a good barrier between you and your pursuers. ellie was already halfway down as you threw yourself down the steep hill, the trees spun around you and you couldn’t see anything. you could make out ellie as you tumbled, rolling uncontrollably and it seemed even faster than you were. it felt like years before you came to a stop at the bottom of the hill.
you groaned, lifting your head up and not seeing anyone following you. you put all your effort into sitting up and you clutched your side as you did. you cursed, your bag was missing, probably buried in snow somewhere and as you looked around you saw ellie. she was laying next to a tree, limp and moaning in pain. in a panic you tried to stand up but the pain in your side prevented you from moving even two steps so you crawled to her. “ellie!” you shouted, coming to her side. “ellie, are you okay?” you yelled again, shaking her lightly. looking back up the embankment, you didn’t see the men anymore and hoped they went to clean up their friends. 
as your eyes came back to ellie, she rolled over and in between big breaths she was able to get out, “hit.. the fuckin…tree.” she groaned, grasping at her limp arm. “fuck..my arm!” 
“c’mon, williams we gotta go,” you stated, looking around for her backpack since yours was nowhere in sight. you noticed it a few feet away and you used the tree to force yourself up, ellie saw you struggling and tried to get up on her own so you wouldn’t have to help her in your condition. taking her pack and slinging it on your shoulders you went back to her, she was leaning against the tree now, facing the embankment. 
you reached out your hand to her and you couldn’t read her face as she took it with her good arm, pulling herself up with a huff. your side screamed in pain as you trudged on, taking in short breaths even though you could barely breathe to begin with. ellie limped behind you, her limp arm at her side and every step she winced in pain. fully realizing you two were lost in the woods, you kept going in hopes of seeing jackson at some point. 
the men didn’t make any appearances and the further you walked the more you felt safe. the fresh snowfall that started was covering your tracks in the deep snow. walking in silence felt like the right thing to do, the adrenaline wearing off would mean bickering again and you liked the quiet sounds of the forest, and the occasional grunt from ellie behind you. the sun was nearly behind the mountains before ellie spotted a small hunting cabin to the left of your makeshift path. 
it was dainty, and probably only one room but as you both approached it, it was looking more and more inviting than the harshness of the cold you two had been enduring the last couple of hours. knocking on the door roughly and not hearing anything inside, you opened the wooden front door. it was small. the abandoned shelter was illuminated by the setting sun through the windows, you saw a fireplace that had more spider-webs than you’d ever seen. the “kitchen” immediately next to it consisted of a broken and ransacked fridge, a sink and only two cabinets. 
you smacked ellie’s pack down on the counter, and finally felt a smidge of peace. looking up and noticing there was no living room area in the single room, just a creaky wooden bed that ellie had sat down on still clutching her arm. you looked around and saw a wooden chair, smashed to pieces you shuffled over, taking as many as you could carry before tossing them into the empty fireplace. ellie watched as you did, wishing she could be more help but her arm was killing her and she worried it was more than just a break. 
she saw you wince as you bent down to pick up more wood and she had to look away, not being able to see you hurt for some reason. “we should splint your arm,” you suggested, tossing more wood into the fireplace but keeping a smaller, thicker stick in your hands. ellie just nodded and let you approach her and as you went to unzip her jacket she flinched back. “i can’t do it with your jacket on.” you snapped, your shitty mood pouring out onto her. 
she softened her face and unzipped her own jacket but needed your help taking it off completely. as you were slowly pulling it off her bad arm, she sighed deeply. her arm was revealed, having only worn a short sleeve under her jacket and you wondered how she wasn’t frozen solid by now. “jesus, els.” you breathed out as you looked upon her arm. it was black and blue all over, some spots were a bright yellow and you held back from gagging. the redness from being cold didn’t help make it look better either. 
“i’m fine,” she lied, not liking you taking care of her. “just make the fire first, would you?” 
not surprised with her attitude, you obliged because you were even still freezing. the sun was barely shining in the windows anymore and you knelt beside the wood and picked a few of the smaller pieces of wood. taking your knife, you whittled off sections, leaving them attached at the bottom to the main piece of wood to work as tinder. and as you worked, ellie watched. she admired your survival skills, remembering that this is what kept you alive before jackson. 
ellie and you knew more about each other than you’d ever admit. being as close as you two were for months, you often had long talks in her garage to distract yourselves from the mutual lingering feeling of longing for one another. but as she observed you working, she remained silent and you did too, feeling her eyes burning into your back. 
the fire bursted to life with flames and you backed away, feeding it more kindling from the broken chair. ellie felt the warmth from the bed and now that she wasn’t numb from being cold, her arm was feeling worse. she didn’t dare look down at it, you turned to see her struggling to find comfort. you took off your jacket, the cozy cabin becoming warmer with every second that passed. tearing at the bottom of your shirt got her attention, you ripped until you had a long enough strip to work with. 
taking the wooden piece that you are using as a splint you kneeled in front of her. “give me your arm,” you said, your hand hovering in front of her. she shuffled her body forward, inches from you and you gently stretched her arm out straight. her moans in pain were loud over the crackling fire, “i know, i know,” you comforted her and her groans stopped but were replaced with quick and short breaths. 
you aligned the wood with her arm, taking your ripped shirt fabric and started to wrap it around her arm. moans escaped her mouth, not being able to conceal how badly this hurt. “almost done…” you trailed as you tied a knot in the fabric to keep it in place. 
once you were finished, and ellie was about as bandaged up as she could be, you sat with your back against the bed. wincing as you did, your side still burning in pain that seemed to spread throughout your body. “lemme see,” ellie murmured, shifting off of the bed to sit next to you on the floor. you grumbled a small i’m fine like she had but she didn’t accept it. “let me see.” she said more sternly. 
you rolled your eyes, lifting up the side of your shirt where the pain is erupting from. she examined it, the bruising on your stomach was prominent and she grazed her fingers over your hot skin. you winced from her touch, her fingers cold on the burning black and blue. “told you, i’m fine.” you reinforced, pulling your shirt back down. 
“i promised you they wouldn’t touch you,” she whispered beside you, you heard the familiar aggression in her voice as it’s usually directed at you but this time it didn’t feel like it was. 
“they technically didn’t.” you recalled, staring into the fire. but ellie was gazing at you, her green eyes scanning the side of your blank face. 
“i should’ve seen the hill,” she shook her head, focusing her eyes on the fire like you were. “i told you they wouldn’t hurt you and now look. i swear to god if they ever show their face around jackson i’ll–” her voice turned sour and she stopped herself from revealing what she would do to them for causing you pain, and although you didn’t blame her for anything that happened today, you couldn’t help but feel angry with her and her sudden caring attitude. 
scoffing, you spoke, “i’ve been hurt worse than this.” ellie understood what you were implying and snapped her head back to you, hurt swimming in her eyes. 
“what is that supposed to mean?” she hissed back at you, her voice rising slightly. she knew exactly what it meant but couldn’t stop herself from getting defensive. 
you laughed in disbelief, “the way you’ve been treating me for years? does that not ring a fuckin’ bell?” your voice rising to meet hers. 
“you’ve been doing the same thing to me, so don’t act innocent.” her tone was sharp but calm and you hated her for her ability to keep her composure. 
“i never said i was innocent!” your blood boiling over, you looked at her, her eyes meeting yours before she darted them away. “if you hate me, hate me. don’t confuse me by acting like you fuckin’ care.” 
“i don’t fuckin’ care,” she spat, using her good arm to lift herself off of the ground. she did care. and it was obvious to you, but instead of arguing about it further you let her walk to the kitchen as she dug in her pack.
you remained silent in front of the fire and despite the pain you brought your knees to your chest for extra warmth, the cold disposition of your patrol partner sucking out any warmth the fire was giving to you. ellie tossed over a small ration pack of food harshly, and you reached to take it. not caring that she threw it at you because now that you were looking at it, you were starving. realizing you hadn’t eaten this morning like you intended to. 
ellie moved back near the fire, sitting in front of you but staring into the wall. it was quiet while you both ate, or better inhaled the food in front of you. “i was supposed to have the day off today,” you remarked, chuckling at the circumstances though not finding it entirely funny. “i shoulda just told maria to fuck off.” 
ellie turned to you looking confused. “wait, maria asked you to do this?” you nodded in response and she shook her head smirking, “she asked me last night if i could cover for–” 
“manny,” you both said at the same time. realizing maria had set you both up, and you both couldn’t help but not laugh about it. 
“she’s gonna feel so bad!” you laughed, and somehow it was the funniest thing in the world to the both of you in that moment. ellie was laughing harder than you had ever seen her and you realized how deeply you missed this side of her, and how long it had been since you did. was it shock? maybe, probably. but even ellie couldn’t help but enjoy the small moment after the day you two had. 
“she probably thinks we killed each other!” ellie added mid laughing, causing you two to remain that way for a little while longer. it really wasn’t funny, but in some fucked up way it was. after you both calmed down from the singular good moment you had had in years, ellie added, “i missed that.” 
“missed what?” you questioned, not wanting the moment to end. 
“your laugh,” she uttered, boring her green eyes into yours. “i know that’s not fair of me to say.” 
this was the ellie you remembered, before all the fighting she was always kind to you. she was thoughtful. and she cared about you more than anyone you met in jackson. she patiently waited for your response, trying to judge if you were still angry. “i think we’ve both said things to each other we shouldn’t have, els.”  she hid a smile at your response, forcing her eyes to the fire that illuminated the small room. after a small beat of comfortable silence, she turned back to you.
“i really am sorry,” she spoke again and you cut her off before she could continue. 
“it’s okay, really–” 
“no i mean– i shouldn’t have– we almost died today. you almost died and i just…” she trailed off, gathering her thoughts. “i wanted to kiss you that day too.” 
you looked at her perplexed, and as you opened your mouth to respond she talked again. “it’s complicated and i was just scared–” 
“scared of what, ellie?” you questioned her again. 
she lifted up her good arm, revealing her tattoo. bringing your eyes back to hers and she took note of your confusion. she shuffled over and sat beside you showing you her arm up close. “just look,” 
at first, all you noticed was the tattoo. the ink perfectly etched into her skin, but as you really looked at it you noticed small indents buried in an intricate part of the linework. you took her arm in your hands to examine it further. bite marks. they were old, but they were there beneath the tattoo, permanently altering her skin with a nasty scar. “what the fuck…” you whispered skeptically, tracing it over with your fingers. 
“i was fourteen, so don’t worry i think i would have been dead by now.” she joked, hoping to alleviate any negative feelings you had about this. she sat nervously next to you and if you weren’t holding her arm she feared she would be shaking. 
“what does this have to do with me?” you asked innocently, taking your eyes away from her arm but not letting go. 
“i thought if we had kissed that i’d infect you somehow,” she laughed thinking of the memory. “i really shoved you off the bed hard, huh?” 
“my ass was bruised for weeks, so yeah you did.” you laughed with her back and it felt like the last couple of years hadn’t happened. 
“awww, poor princess,” she mocked you playfully. it almost threw you off, being as she hasn’t been playful in forever but you rejoiced in it. 
“shut up!” you played back, throwing her arm out of your hands and back into her lap. ellie noticed how close you two were, closer than when you splinted her arm, and it made her feel safe. she brought her hand back up to your face slowly and you let her, she swept strands of hair behind your ear. “you’re not scared now, though?” you pressed on, catching onto her intentions. 
“oh, i’m terrified.” ellie spoke softly, inches from your face. she cupped your cheek in her hand and gazed at you lovingly, her eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. she felt her stomach doing flips as she leaned in to close the final stretch that separated you two, as she did, hard knocks pounding at the door pulled you apart from each other. 
the door opened, revealing a disheveled joel and tommy. “thank god!” joel exclaimed, entering the cabin. “we saw the smoke, you guys are five miles off the normal route. what the hell happened?”
they helped you both home and to see the medics and it was nearly a day later when you saw ellie again. you endured what felt like thousands of visits from friends and neighbors that wanted to wish you a good recovery, and they were sorry to hear what happened. you were put on bed rest for a few broken ribs and they all hurt severely anytime you moved. 
but when ellie came through your bedroom door, you shot up in bed ignoring the pain that was plaguing you. she filled you in on what’s been going on, rangers are out looking for the group of men that attacked you both and they think they have a good lead on the group. this comforted you, but not nearly as much as ellie’s presence. she had a fresh cast on her arm, and ellie pointed out that it was really itchy, making you laugh. 
“maria feels really bad,” she smirked, a small laugh escaping her lips. “but she’s gloating about her plan working.” 
“course she is,” you answered. she moved across your room and sat down on the side of your bed to face you, looking down to your hands and took them in hers. “we might have to put on a show for her, can’t have her head gettin’ too big.” 
“anything you wanna do princess,” she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “but first, rest.” 
you groaned, “i hate you.” 
“i hate you more, now c’mon lay down.” she gently pushed you back down into the bed and you scooted over leaving room for her. she snuggled up next to you as you laid your head on her chest, hearing her soothing heartbeat as she played with your hair and you both fell asleep peacefully. feeling nothing but safe with one another. 
2K notes · View notes
solar-wing · 5 months
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⚣ Holidays with the Waynes 🦃
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⚣🦃 A/N → This idea came randomly, conveniently after Thanksgiving. To everyone that celebrates, Happy Turkey Day (he said about two weeks late) and Indigenous People's Remembrance Day. Also, everyone congratulate me. I finally made a fic under 1000 words. I almost made it longer to but stopped myself. This is why it takes so long to get posts out of me. Just when I think I'm done, I add more. WARNINGS: none. just typical Wayne chaoticness
⚣🦃 Summary → His life is like a reality show and every day is a new episode, with the holidays being their own specials. So, when a classmate asks him how his Thanksgiving was, how does the youngest Wayne son even come up with a response?
⚣🦃 Words → 622
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🦃
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“So, Y/N, how was your Thanksgiving?”
What a loaded question.
*cue the flashback ripples*
“Damian, why is the turkey in my bedroom?” The youngest Wayne asked after entering the kitchen and finding his half-brother sitting at the island.
“Master Y/N, if you’re going to be eating in your room, I do ask you put a cover over your sheets to avoid crumbs and stains, please,” Alfred said while seasoning one of the various dishes for their dinner.
“Oh, Alfred, it’s not like that. It’s–” Y/N tried to explain before stopping himself after Damian sent him a glare, warning him not to utter another word or else, “It’s just that I sometimes get after-dinner cravings and don’t feel like making the trip to the kitchen. Won’t happen again, though.”
Alfred gave him a suspicious look after glancing at Damian who was avoiding his gaze, before nodding his head and continuing his food preparations. The two brothers both looked at each other before the youngest nodded his head towards the door, making his way out of the kitchen while trying not to act even more suspicious knowing the butler was watching his every move.
Damian quickly moved in tow behind his brother, following him to one of the sitting rooms. A cautious measure to ensure they were out of earshot.
“Next time, scan the room before you start blabbing off as you usually do,” Damian said, his usual annoyed and slightly threatening squint in his eyebrows.
“I do not blab, thank you very much,” Y/N said, his hands on his hips and breath huffing out, showing his clear offense to his brother’s statement.
“History would beg to differ.”
Y/N scoffed with an eye roll, “Whatever. Why is the school’s Thanksgiving turkey mascot currently nesting in my room?”
“I overheard one of the faculty members talking about how good the animal was going to taste on their plates come Thanksgiving dinner, and I refused to let an innocent animal be subjected to such brutality.”
“Okay, but you can’t just kidnap the turkey, Damian! Let alone hide it in my room!”
“First, his name is Tiny. Please, give him the respect of using his name. Second, he’s happier and more relaxed in your room. I think he enjoys your color scheme.” Damian said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“I–... Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were a Kardashian.”
“Less authentic and more plastic. Also, you know how Father feels about that family, especially the mother. And, how would you feel if someone tried to chop off your head and limbs so you could be put on a platter that serves 6-10?” The Boy Wonder questioned, mirroring his brother’s body language with his hands on his hips.
“Damian, you literally chased me around the house with your sword last Tuesday.”
“I thought we were playing tag.”
“Who plays tag with a sword?!”
“People who don’t want to get tagged.”
“I–... No words. None whatsoever.”
“Does this mean you’ll let Tiny room with you tonight?”
“Fine.”
For the rest of that Thanksgiving break, Y/N spent it with a roommate who would wake him up at the ass crack of dawn with a series of short, noisy clucks. The youngest Wayne had to explain to his father that he was listening to a new LO-FI relaxing tracks of bird sounds to help him relax.
He received many strange looks from his various family members.
“Oh, just the usual stuff. Holidays with my family are pretty lame. Anyway, what about your family?” Y/N answered, lying straight through his two front teeth.
Holidays with his family were never lame, but also never normal.
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BONUS:
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☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️
☀️| Masterlists | ☀️
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graybby · 15 days
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r u stalking me?
Lando Norris X Russell!reader
The F1 drivers twitch streamer sister Series ! Part 2
Part 1 here 863 words
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Lando sits up in his bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes in an attempt to wake himself up quicker. Finding his phone in his sheets his eyes widen as the memories of last night slap him wide awake - oh god it wasn’t just a cringy dream. His thumb ghosts over the instagram app as he gains enough courage to open it. Breathing heavily when he does as he sees a DM unread.
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Well - that went so much better than I expected. A sigh of relief passing his lips that he didn’t know he was holding in. smiling down at his phone like a giddy child he hears Max emerge from his room on the other side of the apartment. I’ll never live this down if I tell him - picking himself up he trudges over to his bathroom to shower in hope of clearing his mind of the y/hc girl that seems to be plaguing his thoughts. 
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In a flat in London Y/N sits at her desk getting herself ready for a long awaited stream. Cursing George slightly for the sudden influx of F1 drivers following her private account - hoping her cover won’t get blown as a result, not that she has anything against her brother but she’d much rather people like her for her content and personality rather than her relation to a famous F1 driver. She’d only just started going along with him to attend the races (through a slight amount of begging) dressed in oversized hoodies and sunglasses in hopes of remaining anonymous. She had been streaming for a little over two years now and had gathered quite a following through her cutesy animal crossing, minecraft and stardew valley content. It had honestly shocked her to find out Lando had been quietly watching her streams, thinking her content wasn’t exactly his taste. She had obviously known of him prior to his follow request - him being amongst the fellow racers her brother competed against, she thought he was talented for his age and quite often rooting for him to get his first win when she watched the grand prix’s - not that she would admit that to George who would ‘jokingly’ disapprove of her supporting any team other than his. 
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and ended her fans misery - changing the stream starting soon overlay to her face cam. 
“Hi guys, long time no see !” shyly running her hand through her hair. 
y/nstan123: OMG finally ! where have u been ?!
User05: are queen is back at last 
User22: missed ur streams where u been girly?? 
Y/N braces herself knowing her fanbase would have questions about her sudden social media disappearance. “Sorry chat I know it's been a while. I was quite ill the past few weeks with the flu so I’ve been laying low - I’ll remember to give you all a heads up the next time okay?” gulping back the displeasure of having to lie to her fans but on the other hand not being ready for them to discover her true identity and the fact she's been missing to go support her brother in Saudi Arabia, she continues “ but don't worry!”. 
y/nstan123: Oh no ! our poor y/n
User41: r u feeling better now? 
“Yes, thank you guys for your concern but I’m back to normal now” she replies clapping her hands together, “so what should I play today?” 
User23: new stardew update??
User41: sims4 plz I’ve been asking foreverrrr
User52: GIFFTED 10 SUBS
y/nstan123: omg has anyone else noticed lando lurking in y/n’s streams
User41: (y/nstan123) norris???
F1stan24: (y/nstan123) no way is lando a y/n fan - my two worlds colliding ! 
Well shit they’ve spotted him now - do I acknowledge it?
Landonorris: DONATED £15 - I suggest you get a racing sim to play on stream 
Guess I have to acknowledge him now, internally facepalming. 
y/nstan123: OMG LANDO IS WATCHING HER STREAM
F1stan24: i'm losing my shit rn 
User23: What is he doing here?
“Ha, well - I wouldn't really know where to start with that, I’ve never tried one” she’s trying to keep her cool now, not expecting him to put himself on blast like that - hiding behind her hair without realizing it.
User64: aww is y/n blushing
User38: (user64) I don’t blame her I’d be sobbing if that was me that got noticed by him
 “Okay chat calm down, you guys are trying to embarrass me I swear”
y/nstan123: nah girly ur doing a good job of that urself 
“I can’t believe how quick you lot switch up on me chat” Y/N groans out head now in her hands as her face reddens. 
Ding 
Her phone lights up on her desk taking her focus from the relentless bullying from her so called fans to her insta dms. 
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y/nstan123: guys she's giggling at her phone im gonna scream
User48: omg imagine its lando she’s messaging
F1stan24: ngl I ship it already
“You guys are insane” trying to brush off her laughter at a curtain someone's reply as just reading the flowing twitch chat. “Okay let's play some stardew before you all lose your minds”.
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Thank you for reading <3
Taglist : @bicchaan @lauralarsen @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @eviethetheatrefreak
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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month
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A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL (YANDERE JAMES LEE/DG X READER)
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A certain pink haired guy leaned back against his bike as he sighed under his breath, as his muscles outlined his frame against his white shirt. He was slightly on edge despite having a neutral and calm expression, but he wasn't too worried despite the lack of people around the area. He was thankful for the lack of people around the area if he should be honest, he picked a good place for this fight. 'Maybe he's too much of a coward to show up...why did I assume he'd show up after what happened last time. Perhaps I should make a housecall or something...yet at the same time I can't, that old man Choi will have something else to hold over my head and I don't need that at the moment...that old man needs to be dealt with fast' he thought to himself as he clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked at the sky
"Um...excuse me" you spoke softly as you approached him and fidgeted nervously. The pink haired guy was snapped out of his thoughts as you became the object of his scrutinizing gaze. "Who are you?" he asked you in a slightly disinterested tone as his eyes wandered over your features. "I'm...I'm the daughter of the man you were supposed to be fighting with today" you said softly. His expression remained stoic for a few seconds till his mouth curved into a soft smirk
"Ah...so you've come to watch your dear father die today by my hands. Quite unfortunate that his dear little daughter would see him defeated by me" he said as he smirked at you, his eyes drinking in your features and the way your maroon dress hugged your body. He felt amused when your eyes widened in horror and your face paled slightly as your lips quivered and trembled. "No please...please, I'm asking you to spare my father. I know he's a rather stubborn man but he's already gotten hurt before...I can't let him get hurt again" you said as you looked at him with a pleading and helpless expression. Your expression reminded him of a helpless little animal, stuck in a cage with no way out, a small little prey which he found delightful
"And just why, would I spare that man just because his pretty little daughter begs me to? Your father is someone who's messing with the big league little girl...he needs to be dealt with. I'm trying to do my job here you know...and as for your dear old dad getting injured before, that's something he deserved after trying to fight me. Your father is quite the hot tempered individual..." he said as his smirk widened at your helplessness. "No, please...leave my dad alone. I'm the only child of my family and my mother would be devastated if something happens to him. Please don't fight him" you said
"How amusing...the man clearly doesn't have the guts to face me in a fight after all and he sent his daughter instead to plead on his behalf" chuckled the guy as you frowned slightly. "No one sent me here, I came here on my own accord" you replied curtly. "Now why would you do that? You really love your dear old dad that much huh?" he asked as his grin widened even more as you nodded. He pondered for a bit and looked thoughtful for a few seconds as he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. For a few seconds he simply stared at you with his stoic look till he broke the silence. "I'll agree to spare the old man...though I usually don't do this consider yourself lucky...I'll do it on one condition"
"Anything" you said and nodded eagerly with enthusiasm shining in your eyes which he found rather endearing. You really should have chosen your words more carefully because little did you know, standing in front of you was a dangerous man. The man's eyes trailed down to your body as his smirk widened and he strode over to you as he leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice in your ear. "Give me a kiss and I'll think about it...princess..." he whispered as you turned flustered and blushed slightly at his request
Kiss him? You'd never even held the hand or hugged someone of the opposite gender till now, how were you supposed to kiss a random stranger who literally just threatened to fight your dear father? You stared at him like he'd lost his mind as he couldn't help but feel even more amused, watching your internal struggle and conflicting feelings coming out to play as he watched you squirm. "Um...there's something you should know" you mumbled shyly as you fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt and looked down at the road
"I don't...don't have experience in kissing someone before. I haven't been in a relationship before either...so..." you trailed off awkwardly as you shuffled your feet. The man stared at you, his expression glinting with malice and his eyes had a predatory gleam in his eyes like he'd just struck gold. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, standing in front of him was a shy, blushing, bashful beautiful girl who looked ethereal in that dress that highlighted your beauty and you weren't in a relationship with anyone? Looks like he'd have you for himself then
He had a wolf like grin as he pulled you close to him, your forehead almost touching his as his strong muscular arm gripped your waist tightly to prevent you from escaping while he enjoyed watching you squirm. "What...what are you doing?" you whispered as you had a nervous look in your eyes. "Getting my kiss...." he whispered as his soft lips brushed against yours teasingly and you couldn't help but tremble slightly in his arms. The feeling inside you was foreign and yet it kept growing stronger. You didn't know what you were experiencing but you didn't feel the usual emotions people described in books like how people had butterflies in their stomach or fireworks exploding in their stomach when such a thing was happening. Rather, you felt like someone lit a gentle fire inside you...a comforting flame that coursed through your veins and filled you with warmth
You sighed and decided to just get it over with as you closed your eyes and whimpered as you quickly and softly pecked his cheek. You recoiled instantly but he let out a dissatisfied hum and pulled you closer to him. "My, my so hasty...that wasn't a proper kiss princess...and you know it...looks like I'll have to take the pleasure of being your first kiss..." he said as his hand found his way to your cheek and caressed it gently. Despite his palm being rough and calloused with scars, his touch was gentle. He leaned in closer to you as he pressed his lips to yours. You trembled in his grasp as his hand moved to the back of your neck and kissed you more passionately. Your first kiss was gentle, yet passionate and filled with desire...it made you feel things you couldn't describe in words
It lasted for a few moments before he finally pulled away and traced his thumb down your bottom lip and caressed your cheek again. "You're mine now...that's a reasonable trade I my opinion. You'll be mine and I'll spare your dear old father's life..." he said with a wolfish grin. You were about to protest when his expression darkened slightly as his grip around your wrist tightened. "Is there a problem...princess...don't forget who's in control here" he whispered as his unnerving smile was still plastered across his face
You kept reminding yourself that it was to keep your father safe, to keep your family safe as you grumbled under your breath and agreed. After you went home you received a message from him and you couldn't understand, for the love of God how he'd managed to get your number when you didn't remember giving it to him. There were perks of being DG with the personality of James Lee. He couldn't get you out of his mind after that incident. You had no idea how much he'd started pulling the strings of your own life. From asking Kouji to find out information regarding you to making his men follow you home since you were his after all and even going as far as placing secret cameras in your own house which you didn't know anything about...you were a sweet little butterfly, trapped in his web of convoluted deceit, obsession and possessive love towards you
Don't feel too bad for the death of that moron you used to call a best friend. It was such a satisfying feeling to stab him in the eyes before he killed him for daring to lay his eyes on you in the first place and having the audacity to ask you out when you're his. You belong to DG. Slowly as time goes by, you're relying on him more and more after you were still unaware of how he was isolating you from your friends and family. He suggests you move in with him and you're forced to agree. Oh, don't mind him...he's just changing the locks because of safety reasons. Don't try to leave him unless you want your precious family to suffer. Everytime you scream or cry, he'll just coo at you and hold you in his arms and pat your head to calm you down with that same smirk he had on his face since the day you've met him. You'll complain to the police? Don't make him laugh honey, they're all on his payroll and having an obsessive fanbase comes in handy too. He has more eyes and ears to keep a lookout for you in case you try anything silly like leaving him
You're not allowed to leave his sight anymore. There's no escape for you from him...you really had made a deal with the devil...
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Here's something mildly heartbreaking :) (my speciality!)
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Mammon definitely cried when MC died right?
• He (along with Asmo) is the character who cries the most in canon;
1.) He cries during sad parts of movies/shows/plays/books
2.) He cries while watch animal documentries
3.) Hell he cried because Beel ate the soup he was making MC
• MC died on a day where the rest of the brothers were (up until that point) having a relaxing, fun day - playing a game to get Lucifer & MC closer together. Their death was definitely unexpected/an extreme shock
• MC's injuries were bad according to Satan? (Levi?) Bad enough that a human wouldn't have been able to survive it. Bad enough that even Lucifer knew he couldn't do anything to save them when Asmo asked him to. That means the body Mammon was holding was........ I mean it would have been a gruesome sight
• Mammon's been spending every day since the beginning of the year with MC. At this point he's already obviously in love with them, they're his best friend, the two of them share a bedroom frequently. They were close
The point being: Mammon held a dying human in his arms and sobbed his fucking heart out while asking them not to die. In front of Belphie.
The point being: Mammon didn't cry when Lilith died. No listen, he absolutely broke down when she died but he didn't do it in front of his brothers. Mammon was the one keeping it together and looking after everyone when they Fell. He couldn't scream and cry and beg like he wanted to when Lilith died because he had to be the strong one, he had to soothe everyone's injuries and fears and guilt, he had to show them that things could be better, that they could move on to a brighter future (shoutout to Mammon's lines in his unit song with Lucifer).
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But you know what Belphie would have seen?
He would have seen his older brother breaking down over a human he's known for months when he wouldn't even cry after his little sister, who he'd known for thousands of years, died
And we all already know what Belphie thought about humans at this time:
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And we already know what he thought about his brothers at this time:
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For a moment there, while MC was dying Belphie would have hated Mammon. Would have felt vindicated for causing Mammon that kind of pain, when he (as far as Belphie knew) couldn't even spare that for his sister.
Belphie would have felt angry and betrayed. Justified for what he said and did but so so painfully hurt.
And then (in s1 of the anime) when the brothers were tiptoeing around Belphie, were trying to reach out to him and act normal after what he did, but were so obviously failing, when there was a distance between them and Belphie that had previously never existed, that even Beel couldn't find away to breach, Mammon was the first to take that step forward and close the distance which prompted everyone else to do the same, to bring Belphie back to them, to show that he was accepted and loved and always a part of them
And I am very emotional about them.
Disclaimer: this is absolutely not a post bashing Belphie or his thoughts/actions/feelings. They're both complex characters and I always love trying to breakdown and figure out what certain characters were feeling at a time by bringing up other moments in canon. If you try to make this post into something to bash Belphie or start dumb discourse I will eat your entire right leg🐸
In addition, me stating things from canon or talking about negative emotions or things characters have done and comparing those things to another charcter's actions/emotions/responses is not me putting down one character to raise up another. Sometimes when analysing characters you have to compare and contrast them with others present in that or similar situations -> doing so doesn't mean I'm shit talking one character. A character can do, say, think, believe bad or complex things -> there's nothing wrong with talking about/analysing those things or still loving that character.
I know it seems stupid to say something that should seem obvious but *takes out cigar and blows smoke* I've been in this business a long time, kid (3 years for om!, 7 years actively in a fandom, 14 years in fandom in general) I've seen things, terrible things
Also, lemme shamelessly plug in my fic because it's related to this post -> Changing Seasons
Ft. Belphie coming to terms with MC after Lesson 16
Onesided Belphie × (unnamed gn!) MC
Mammon x MC being Besties
Belphie & Mammon talking, but not talking enough
Belphie's PoV
Mammon very briefly being an eldritch nightmare as a little treat for you monsterfuckers
Edit:
Huge additional part added because I realised the entire focus of this post could be misunderstood
Ajznxodjfc9enhd7ejx 😭😭😭😭this was supposed to be Belphie's post about Belphie's feelings. Y'all know I love Mammon, but he's not supposed to be the focus here🥲
Usually when I make an analysis post I take evidence from canon and then add it all together to get ✨️The Main Point✨️ of the post.
In this post I had to infer all of mammon's "canon evidence" (via other actual canon evidence) because we're never explicitly told he cried when MC died and we never see his instant reaction to Lilith's death.
Belphie's side of it was however all explicitly stated in canon so I just added the screenshots. Which is why I wrote much more about mammon on this post than Belphie.
But ✨️The Main Point✨️ that I was always getting to and what made me write this post is actually about how absolutely fucking pissed off Belphie would have been because of Mammon. How hurt and angry and betrayed he would have felt that his older brother who's meant to protect him and his family apparently valued the life of some random human over their sister's.
I added the S1 bit because it nicely rounded up Belphie & Mammon's story. Because it proved Belphie wrong. It proved exactly how much Mammon (and the others) valued him and each other. Because he got to see how heartbroken Mammon was when MC died, he knew exactly what it was like to be that heartbroken, he knew exactly what it was like to NEVER forgive that which caused the pain, and yet he was forgiven. And THAT I think more than anything would have proved Belphie's initial thoughts wrong. It would have eased any lingering feelings of betrayal and hurt he had. Would have proved how much he was loved by his older brother.
So yeah, this was absolutely made to be Belphie's post and I don't think I explained that well enough in the original post💀 in my defense i was half an hour late in feeding the kids & getting yelled at🥲
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evilminji · 22 days
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My WIP fairy hates me. But like... in that homoerotic Nemesis sorta way, I swear.
Cease an desist, woman! (I scream into the void, knowing damn well she, being my own brain, SHAN'T.)
Cause NOW? Now I CAN NOT stop Pondering, with a Capitol P, the life of a Sentient Quirk. The trials and tribulations. The indignities and sufferings. Countless micro-aggression and out right dismissal of sentience. The reduction to the EXTENSION of another.
You are not a person.
You are JUST a Quirk.
An organ that "thinks" itself separate, in the way knees spasm when struck just so. The child you are attached to just needs to get better CONTROL of you. Your words and actions are actually THEIRS. You are simultaneously an unruly animal and strange adult, not allowed near other peoples children.
Why are you trying to follow this four year old into their school? Why are you SITTING out side a pre-school? Are you stalking that child?
You are a grown adult. Connected to a random Japanese child.
The child is expected to "control" you.
Punished if they do not.
No one is listen to EITHER of you, as you try to explain the situation. The child is upset, scared, and does not have the emotional maturity to understand why you are not to blame. All they can understand is that you appeared and everything became stressful and "bad". They started getting punished. Have to share their room now.
Do you even have rights? If you get hurt, get MAIMED, what will happen to you? Can you hold a job? Own land? Open a bank account? Fuck it! Can you have a RELATIONSHIP?
If you went out RIGHT NOW and punched a purse thief, would the FOUR YEAR OLD be arrested?
If the kid grows up, becomes a hero, and you do secretarial work... does his license cover you? If YOU wanted to become a Hero, would he be your hero partner? Could he technically sit in a corner and let you work?
If no one could TELL, over an internet connection, then surely that should prove SOMETHING? Right?
And! The question NO ONE ever seems to ask!
Could..... could you LEAVE? Do people have the right to force you back? If you don't WANT to be some kid's Quirk? You're sentient. If, unlike Dark Shadow, you are not PHYSICALLY connected, but tethered by distance?
Could. You. Leave?
Just "Allright, I'm out. The way you're all treating me is unacceptable. See ya never." And walk out the door? You'd be able to gain distance as the kid grew older. As long as you hid? You be homeless, without papers, but free.
A sentient Quirk means free will. Means you don't HAVE to do shit. It's like being born with a twin, not a slave. And that Twin does NOT have to put up with your bullshit. YOU are the one asking THEM to work with you, after all.
This? Of course, ALSO just ABSOLUTELY BEGS the question? What if that four year old grew up to be a BASTARD? Just... NO self reflection or empathy. Everything is everyone else's fault, always. And they want a NEW Quirk. One that won't question them.
So they sell theirs, buy a new one. Probably die off screen trying to throw it around.
What happens to you THEN? Pain, obviously. Like... massive, massive amounts of pain. You ARE a Quirk. You're being ripped out by your metaphorical roots. By the NERVE ENDINGS. But? Do you... for lack of a better word, "reset"?
Are you back infront of "your" person? Or do you stay, safely, where you are? Both would be fascinating, honestly. Because I imagine All for One? Does NOT get sentient quirks often. If at all.
They'd sooner kill themselves.
After all, if your choice is "kill yourself and your beloved twin" or "be ripped apart and watch them die horribly, then be used to go against everything you both stood for"? You weep and promise to make it fast.
Then you make it fast.
It's... really annoying, I'd imagine, for All for One. It's not necessarily that he WANTS a sentient Quirk. But they are INTERESTING. And he likes interesting.
He also likes owning things that can't leave. Ever.
So of course he'll poke and prod at the Quirk. It will inevitably be a nightmare, either way. Because EVERY Sentient Quirk has some degree of communication aspect to it. Just because the original holder never figured it out, doesn't mean HE can't.
And while your range may now be much, MUCH bigger? Because the fucker is strong as hell? How useful is that... if he can talk to you when ever HE feels like it? Day or night. 24/7.
And that's assuming you don't reset. God help you if you reset. Because THEN your STANDING infront of, most likely, pre-face-smash All for One. Who's looking at you like he just won a Mildly Interesting Prize and you would PREFER HE NOT. But what are you gonna do?
Walk out again?
You think THAT'S an option here?!
I mean... you can and do TRY. But, obviously not. So like? Fuck ™.
THEN the question becomes? Would YOU go to Tarturaus. Are you a hostage? Or an accomplice? You have the same level of power and authority as a cat, deliberately knocking pages of tables and cups to the floor, but... like? Oooooh~ oh yeah! THATS gonna slow him down! His empire crumbles beneath the sheer MIGHT of your petty inconveniences!
*trips the doctor again*
Fffffuck you.
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