#im something of a masochist myself

[anagalis]

wow can't believe red dead redemption 2 only consists of 3 chapters with an open ending who would have thought

[zippers]

i'm gonna do an illustration of this bc it is too funny but i have been sooo giddy all morning after this date just squealing, "she's a sadist!!!" and dancing around my room. Y'all have no idea how much i have been waiting to hear someone with interest in me say that!!

[rincewinds-hat]

fuck yall you made me see that love doesn't have to be just soft shit you see in romcoms it can be violence and pain and blood in the best way and made me feel accepted and less of a freak (derogatory)

[vagueiish]

i've been told a number of times that mental illness is a dirty, filthy, no good liar. but like..... what if it isn't?

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Running, Little Bunny!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?

Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied

A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!

Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity

"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."

Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.

Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging... 

Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.

"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.

He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."

You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"

"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.

This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."

You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."

Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."

"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."

For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"

As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.

"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..."  You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second. 

Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.

'5'

Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.

Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One." 

You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him. 

"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.

"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."

Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.

"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.

When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.

"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."

"FUCK YOU!"

"You want me dead?"

"Yes!"

He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"

Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.

To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.

Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him. 

"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.

"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.

"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately... 

Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you. 

Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."

As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.

THANK YOU!!!!!

I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!

Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.

If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.

Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!

I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!

Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?

No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer

love yuh!

[feyburner]

I loved LOVED a word, a look, will be enough. I’m obsessed with the way you write jason and tim. No pressure to answer this at all, but I was curious if you have a headcanon about how the missing spleen reveal eventually goes

Jay »

Good afternoon Timothy.

« tim

uh oh

Jay »

I just had a fascinating conversation with Doc thompson

Care to hazard a guess about what?

« tim

pollen season

Jay »

No.

« tim

bird flu

Jay »

Is there a reason you havent told anyone in your life that you dont have a fucking spleen?

« tim

okay first of all

i’m not sure why doc thompson felt the need to tell you my private medical information

pretty sure they have a rule about that

Jay »

It’s not her fault.

I mentioned that you got whammied with that stupid germ bomb from Typhoid Tony or whatever the fuck his name was

« tim

vik vyral

Jay »

And she got all serious and told me I should get you into the clinic asap, and I was like no he’s fine now, it was basically a 24 hour bug, and she was like no, theres no such thing as a 24 hour bug for him, he needs to come get his blood tested yesterday

And then she clearly realized I had no fucking clue what she was talking about and clammed up. Wouldn’t say a thing. Told me to ask you myself.

Jay »

The look she gave me when I said you slept it off and went back to work. Like I should know better. like I was letting you be careless and shit bc thats just how I am or something.

« tim

“letting” me?

Jay »

yeah. Letting you. I know you know what I mean

« tim

i’m not sure i do.

Jay »

When youre with someone you take care of them.

I dont pretend to know much about this shit but I know that.

I’m not talking about handcuffing you to the radiator. Im talking about knowing whats going on with you and knowing that sometimes you let shit slide that I wouldn’t. When it comes to you

You do that for me and the others all the time. Thats how it works.

« tim

doc thompson doesn’t know you’re “with” me

Jay »

If you think everyone doesn’t know exactly what’s going on then your detective skills need work

Jay »

Also, Jesus, Tim.

« tim

ok sorry, i didn’t mean the scare quotes part

but did you pause to consider maybe there’s a reason i haven’t told everyone other than whatever shortsighted masochistic bs you’re assuming

Jay »

I dont need you to tell everyone. I’m not asking you to write a report on it.

Just like. if there’s any other major medical shit can you maybe tell me

Before you fucking die of a sinus infection or whatever bc the asshole who lives with you didn’t know your immune system has the horsepower of a bicycle

« tim

did you know you curse more when you’re fronting like you’re not worried about me

Jay »

I’m actually not fronting! in this moment!

« tim

okay

well. i am sorry

that sounded sarcastic bc of who i am as a person

but it’s not. i mean it.

Jay »

Sorry for yelling at you

« tim

i dont wanna go into it over text but i’ll tell you tonight. okay?

about what happened.

also there’s nothing else. it’s just the spleen thing

ok?

Jay »

Okay.

« tim

well and the mango allergy

well. and i’m double jointed specifically bc i have joint-hypermobility syndrome

which is why im so flexible :)

but also why i dislocate things a lot :(

um and im mildly allergic to carrots, bananas, pineapples, and most legumes, but it’s fine they just make my tongue itch

i think that’s all

Jay »

Tim can you be honest with me for a second

« tim

yeah…

Jay »

Are you inbred

« tim

NSJDN/&2&jdj?!_£_??

Jay »

Like are you that type of rich person

You can tell me. We are not going to procreate so I dont mind either way

« tim

just scared the living shit out of an intern who had never seen me laugh before. i think she thought i was choking

jesus CHRIST

i will see you at home.

Jay »

You

didn’t answer the question….

[garfunklefield]

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 

The possession he was growing to… love.

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[slamminslamminmcgill]

please. please i need house to call me a faggot and a tranny while balls deep in me. please.

YES ANONS GLORY TO THE LAW OFFICES OF SLAMMIN SLAMMIN MCGILL 🫡⚖️

warning: transphobia, homophobia, slurs, degradation, humiliation, fucking medical ethics violations i guess, hair-pulling, drug abuse, mentions of pregnancy, misgendering kinda, not to doxx myself but im using my own medical info for ease of writing specifics

anatomical terms: vagina/pussy/cunt

“Okay, current medications. Let’s see what’cha got…”

Clinic duty was never enjoyable for House. It was really just a slew of NPC’s for him to verbally abuse until someone showed something interesting. A weird rash, an inexplicably high fever, or, in your case, a discrepancy in your suspected genital anatomy.

“This… says you have a birth control implant. So either someone fatfingered your actual prescription on the computer, or—“

“It’s… accurate.” You replied sheepishly, lifting your arm to highlight its location. “I actually do have one.”

The doctor looked perplexed, almost angrily so. Like you’d just spat in his face and dared him to call your bluff. He aggressively limped towards you and gripped your arm entirely too hard. With his other hand, his two fingers prodded around for the implant until he got it.

“Well!” He scoffed, rolling the stick underneath your skin, pressing on either edge to seesaw it within you. “Thank god you’re not reproducing. Imagine some poor preschooler having to bring your fruity little ass in for Mother’s Day. Kid would get turbo-bullied on the playground. Good on you for being responsible.”

He hobbled back over to the computer to return to your file, leaving you stunned, speechless, and sputtering. What is this guy’s fucking problem? What in the actual ever-loving fuck did he just say to you? And why was it... kinda hot, in all honesty?

“Ah, there it is. Testosterone cypionate. Jumped the gun on that one. If only I had scrolled down. Alphabetization makes fools of us all…” He continued reading the details of your dosage. “0.6 milliliters biweekly, self-administered intramuscular injections. Ooh, so you’re a masochist too.”

Your reaction was an unfortunate reflex, on par with if he’d tapped your knee with that dinky little hammer, only much more embarrassing. You had no chance of stopping the pathetic whine that escaped your vocal cords. “Mm~!” You gasped, then coughed, hoping to sufficiently cover the sound, and shouted, “What?! N-No, no I’m not!”

“Oh, please, you are not a good liar.” House tapped his cane on the exam table, right between your legs. Not touching you, not even close. He just wanted to imply that he could. “To administer a masculinizing dose of testosterone in patients assigned female at birth, they can either self-inject, or they can rub themselves with what’s essentially lotion. So why would you choose stabbing yourself in the leg unless you want to stab yourself in the leg? And why would you want to stab yourself in the leg? Because you’re a pain slut. Am I wrong?”

No. No, he was not. Well, that isn't why you chose injections, but you were a pain slut. Of course, you didn’t wanna admit that to him. That’d just make you even more pathetic. Oh well, it’s not like you needed to say anything anyway. The mortified look on your face was proof enough.

“So! What brings you in today? Bruised butt-cheeks from your Daddy taking you over his knee too hard?”

You rolled your eyes at his snarky comment, trying to stick up for yourself and what little shreds of dignity you had left. “My STD test results.”

“Oh, sure. Figures you would need to know that. Can’t have Typhoid Mary taking backshots at the circuit party. What types of sex are you having?”

Used to these questions every time you get tested, you rattled them off nonchalantly. “Vaginal, oral, and anal.”

“Not letting anything go to waste, huh? I like it. How many sexual partners do you have currently?”

Wait a minute. You just needed to hear the results. What’s this guy doing? “Uh… didn’t the nurse already ask me these questions?”

“I’m sure someone did. I just want to hear you answer them.”

You crossed your arms and stared straight through him, silently, baring an expression that sufficiently said cut the shit without the need for any verbal assistance.

Dr. House pouted. “You’re no fun.” He opened the folder he had came in with, what he was initially supposed to give you. He had just been dilly-dallying to kill time. “All negative. You’re clean. Well, in this one aspect, you’re clean. Morally, you’re about the furthest thing from it.” Again, he smacked his cane on the table, in between your legs, this time in rhythm. “Just. My. Type.”

You squirmed, trying to shimmy backwards away from his cane. You cast your eyes downward, obscuring the profuse blush on your face. He didn’t need to know that he was getting to you. Still, it was flattering. You cleared your throat. “Uh… Thank you? I guess?”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and one more thing. I saw that your chart lists recreational ketamine usage. Is that true?”

“Yeah, actually. Why do you ask? Are you gonna tell me to quit?”

“Ugh, please. I’m a doctor, not a narc. Here, watch.” Dr. House reached into his pocket and took out a jar of pills. He opened it, poured a ridiculous amount of pills into his palm, and dry swallowed them. “See? Now we’re both junkies! But, you do have a point. It’s my Hippocratic duty to look out for my patients’ well-being. The street supply of ketamine can be mixed with dangerous additives like fentanyl or crack, which would put you at risk for overdosing. You want a scrip for the good shit?”

Oh? On god? Ethics and potential felony charges be damned. The weirdly hot doctor wants to hook you up with substances? Weapons grade ketamine? You’d be an idiot to pass it up. “Oh! Sure, thank you!”

“It does come with a pretty hefty co-pay though.”

“Oh…” Your face dropped. “How much?”

“Bend over.”

—

“Ahhh, modern medicine is amazing, isn’t it?”

Dr. House sighed in pleasure as he rutted into you from behind. Your legs were cramping, held apart in an awkward position. Your arms were cold against the metal slab of the table, and so was your face, buried within them to cover your shame and soundproof your moans. Apparently, that “copay" he mentioned was just a euphemism. Some dumb excuse to get you to trade pussy for premium drugs. And you were dumb enough to do it. Just his lucky day. Keep your face down, keep your mouth shut, and just let him use you. The high will be well worth it.

"Hey, faggot," He spat, and yanked you up out of the darkness by your hair. Your eyes stung, shocked by the fluorescent clinic lighting. "I'm talking to you. Are you always this rude to everyone who fucks you?"

"S-Sor—Sorry! I'm sor—fuck! Fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up, whore," House clamped his hand over your mouth, holding you even tighter against him. You couldn't move, you couldn't speak. Your only function was getting him off. "If we get caught, you don't get your ket. Now, mmm, fuck yeah, tell me... Isn't modern medicine amazing?"

Without the ability to verbally agree, you nodded.

"Do you know why I'm saying it's amazing?"

You shook your head.

He chuckled devilishly before growling in your ear,

"Because I can blow my load in a tight little tranny boy's cunt without worrying about knocking him up."

[mrinafria]

Just last night I was sitting there going through my edit drafts, and I looked at this scene, to notice all these things Seon Jae does before/during the live radio call.

Really wasn't going to write about OG Seon Jae after my last post on him. I never knew I had such a masochistic side to me until Lovely Runner because all I've done since this show started is go back to rewatch episode 1-4, over and over and over and over again as if this was a hell loop I created for myself.

There's hope, anticipation, a bit of excitement too. He will hear her voice. Again. He will get to talk to her. For the first time. Yeah. The OG Seon Jae never got to talk to Im Sol. He admired her, crushed on her, liked her, observed her, tried whatever he could as a 19yo to save her, but he never, ever got to talk to her. This is the very. first. time. he's able to have a conversation with her.

But she doesn't pick up. And he has to put a leash on his emotions in those few seconds because this version of Ryu Seon Jae stopped showing his true emotions long back. Ah, this was the only chance I had. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could hear her voice. I wish I could know how she's been doing. Just once. Just this one time.

He introduces himself using his name. Not along with his band name, which is the usual practice, mind you. And a very little pause before going "Do you know me?"

Sometimes when you long for a person, crave for their voice, their smile, their presence in your life and your world, you desperately want to be present in their world too, no matter how trivial your presence or your existence might be to them. Seon Jae hoped she would remember; even if she didn't consider him her savior (which he never thought he was) he desperately wanted some semblance of familiarity in her voice, even if it was out of nothing but resentment. Maybe even something as painful as How dare you call me.

And she does share her resentments, not towards Seon Jae the 19yo boy who she doesn't remember, but Ryu Seon Jae the idol, along with everyone present there, for putting her through this misery, triggering her worst trauma and twisting the knife in her wound that has already driven her to the brink of ending it all. Everyone is uncomfortable here, except for this one guy. He's back to reliving that incident that forever changed her life, his life and brought them to this moment here. He is reminded of just how big of a failure he is, for failing this one person he never wanted to fail. He is reminded how a moment of indecision/inaction on his part led to the person he loves the most to be this miserable. In this moment above, you look at him and realize it's no longer Ryu Seon Jae; it's the 19yo Seon Jae, the one at the reservoir, the one who kept chanting mianhae to an unconscious Im Sol, the one who waited on that bench while she underwent surgery--clutching on to the watch in anguish as if that was the only thing keeping him from falling apart--the one who stood by her hospital door, listening to her screams while shattering into a million pieces inside. It's the 19yo Seon Jae who would be haunted by her screams and live for the remainder of his brief life in extreme guilt and regret mixed with intense longing, until he meets his untimely demise on that fateful night.

I often wonder if he could sense it from her voice on the call. Just how close she was to the edge, how she was probably going to do something that very day right after the call ended. Was it because he felt her pain as if it were his own? You see him springing to action right when we think it's over, as if he is desperate to help her, any. way. he. can. You see how restless his eyes get all of a sudden? He likely wants to say so many things to her. Sol-ah, I'm glad to hear your voice. Sol-ah, I'm sorry. Sol-ah, I hope you are okay. Sol-ah, I'm grateful you are here. Sol-ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't do better. I'm so sorry I failed to wake you up. I'm sorry I let you miss your stop. I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't be more careful. You can hate me all you want. I'll live the rest of my life being sorry to you. You don't have to forgive me. I'm fine as long as you're okay, you're fine, you're happy. Sol-ah, I miss your smile. I miss the sound of it. I miss knowing you're happy somewhere, even if I am nowhere in your somewhere. Sol-ah, thank you. Sol-ah, please, please live.

But oh, he can't say any of that to her now. So all he says is "Thank you, for living. The ones by your side will thank you for that". And yes, he means himself.

He wanted to be the umbrella she once was to him, the gift she has been to him all his life, both literally and figuratively. And because Ryu Seon Jae is a person who will receive the affection/love you give with the utmost appreciation, increase it 10x more and return it to you gift-wrapped with sparkly ribbons, he chooses to be her umbrella this way, the only way he can.

He wanted to pull her out of the reservoir, literally and figuratively, so she could live. He didn't mind spending all his life stuck in that reservoir himself.

This was supposed to be a response to @thedeathdeelers rewatch post here and as usual, it ended up being a mess of feels (why do I even try really) I swear atp I feel like we're the same person watching feeling the same things lmao. You, don't ever shut up about this show please :')

p.s. I love writer Lee Si Eun for ultimately wanting to save THIS OG Ryu Seon Jae, and therefore initiating the memory flashback with pieces from this timeline. Although my heart will forever ache for this OG boy, it finds some comfort in that.

[fagboyfriend]

i rlly like ur composition, i wanna know about your process :D

thank uuu !! yeah so like. composing a scene for me generally begins with a vague idea that i want to get down as quickly as possible- and for me that usually starts with finding a setting. I knew that i wanted to draw a) a group of roomates gossiping in a crowded kitchen and i wanted there to be b) one figure in the extreme foreground and c) lots of plants. i do use some tools to figure out perspective, mainly the csp perspective ruler. Usually i start by finding a picture i like similar to the vibe im going for- but instead of referencing anything else- im purely interested in perspective. sorry to anyone who is shocked i dont generate all of my perspective purely by myself- i can draw in perspective fairly well but i struggle to make straight lines and this is easier to make grids with than the line tool lol ^_^ i try to use it kinda more like spellcheck on typos than like something to fully rely on. this is the video i learned this trick from:

i saw the left photo and realllly loved how the cabinets alligned with the wall- so i used my ruler tool to draw out my inital plotted points from the image- basically the linear movements i was most interested in and then i turned off the image layer and worked with those lines and the ruler tool to move on. eventually i had this:

which was enough for me to put my characters in for the inital round. if you notice- i made a looot of further adjustments as i go on. this sketch is not a final layout, its so my characters have somewhere to be! i cannot draw someone standing on a floor if theres no floor, nor leaning on a table that doesnt exist. i can’t draw my characters without a background, but i also cant finish my background without accounting for how my characters can comfortably exist in it!!

this was the like.. very basic start. i knew the positions of two characters- but i needed to change a lot not only to fit them better but to allow for the other two figures i had planned.

okay.. a little better. i widened the kitchen, closed the fridge door.. added a chair and fit in all the figures.. but this is waaay too dramatic. only two figures are actually interacting- and they are at wildly different energy levels!

this is where things started to make a little more sense characterwiss, so i was ready to refine backgrounds and figures and unite the two.

inital base sketch. much better layout.

okay- this is where im getting my footing but things seem.. really really off. You can see me working on my framing here- theres some good linear movement from left to right here- but not vertically. It’s hard to notice the figure in the far back, so i need to redirect the viewers eye to move upwards as well!

this is where i decided to zoom out, add an interesting vertical element to the left of the image and make it clearer whats happening in the foreground. i had to account for some stuff by adjusting the cropping, but i paid attention to that as well.

annnd- thats what a clean sketch looks for me! i have all the elements of my scene accounted for, and things are clean enough to read.

the next step for me would be transfer! essentially- I print the image of my sketch out, resizing and taping pages together so my sketch matches the size of the paper i want to paint on, and then i use a lightboard to transfer my sketch with pencil onto my paper. Then i refine the sketch a few times on paper before stretching my watercolor paper (essentially just prepping for painting) and inking with a brush and colored ink before going in with watercolor, gouache and ink, then usually finishing with marker, colored pencil, pastel and ink. it’s a lengthy process but a lot of fun lol. but sketches for me can be like.. 15 layers of different roughs until im happy with just the sketch. there were more images but im on mobile and theres a 10 image limit 😭😭 im a bit masochistic but i believe that if i dont have a good sketch i dont have a good painting!!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Pretty suggestive ask but-

What do you think Killer's kinks would be generally? Would he like being in control, letting others take control, just in general.

(yes I'm ashamed of myself for sending this.)

Oh im probably the wrong person to ask about kinks 💀. I am an asexual and a virgin and I intend to be for life. I’m often indifferent to these types of things.

Anyway, a lot of these are mostly gonna vary on interpretation of killer and the like. But as I’ve stated many times, I see Killer as somewhere on the ace spec too, but one can be asexual and kinky—it’s just that his kinks aren’t likely to have much of a sexual thing behind it. (Not to say that they can’t of course.)

I think he’d focus a lot on pain, control, and power dynamics. He’d probably try anything at least once, at least Stage 2 would. I don’t believe he’d like hurting others or being hurt in any capacity while in Stage 1, or higher Stages.

Killer will not interpret it as something to be enjoyed or something that’s supposed to be done for pleasure, he’ll just see it as someone is hurting him in those Stages, and Stages 3-4 are unlikely to know why. And will probably lash out, resulting in someone being killed or hurt.

As for Stage 2. I’ve stated before that I don’t really see Killer as someone who has experience with intimacy, at least not in any way that’s meant to be genuine, and more often than not he avoids it. Not often really interested in it, and often distrustful when presented with it.

He may even just dismiss ever needing or wanting something like that entirely. His whole thing is believing he’s emotionless; he will reject or rationalize away anything that contradicts it.

Hurting people makes him feel strong and in control and enjoys that, being hurt feels comfortable and familiar, and if he can provoke someone into hurting him, not only does it feel good, but it proves him right that this is how things work.

Killer’s approach to things isn’t healthy, is very much tainted by his trauma and is very much him externalizing everything. He himself probably doesn’t view his “freaky” ways as anything kinky, it’s just normal. It’s what he learned to enjoy, this extreme version of it at least.

Which is to say I think being introduced to BDSM with a healthy partner or partners he trusts and respects, and respect him in return, would do him a lotta good. Killer does not maintain many boundaries of his own, and he often disregards other’s boundaries without much care at all. He even refers to his treatment of Swap as ‘fun’ and ‘playing.’

Engaging in Killer’s form of “kink” could very likely end with someone permanently injured or dead or traumatized. Which is normal for him. He is a very sadistic and masochistic person, in rather extreme ways. Like, I’m talking literally ripping him limb from limb type of masochistic.

And he is rather confused and frustrated when someone doesn’t hurt him, and he will likely attempt to provoke someone into doing so. Because it challenges his beliefs in ways he doesn’t like.

Killer is very much not practicing Safe, Sane, and Consensual, I don’t think. Which is why he’d need to be introduced to actual BDSM slowly and carefully, and he’d likely need to be shown through example—allow him time to observe.

Killer doesn’t trust others much at all. Perhaps the only way he knows how to show ultimate trust is willingly giving up control, completely. But it’s not submission in the way those who practice SSC BDSM would understand it—it’s just how he thinks the world works.

Control or be controlled. And if he’s not in control or more powerful, and he doesn’t want to leave or attempt to usurp someone (such as Color), perhaps he will instinctively submit—at least on the surface. He will maintain sliver of control by hiding parts of himself and manipulation.

If trust is there, however, and respect—if he believes this powerful person isn’t going to hurt him or use him, such as with Color—perhaps now submission is a form of loyalty, and maybe he even views this as protection. By giving control to Color, he is being protected. Color should know what’s good for him, because Color is a good person, and he isn’t. Everyone says not to trust him, and he can’t trust him, but he trusts Color.

He may attempt to seek punishment if he does something he thinks would warrant it. If only because it’s familiar, and maybe now if it’s Color giving the punishment, he can trust it’s because Color cares. (Color’s gonna have a hard time helping Killer unlearn this stuff.)

Perhaps this is where the whole “vore,” thing comes in. Or more specifically, the soul vore stuff. Craving intimacy and control and power and safety, and feeling broken and missing pieces and shattered. The idea of becoming one with someone who is whole and powerful, who cares about you, who wants to protect you and take care of you. Especially if doing so would mean making Color more powerful and therefore keeping him safe. The whole idea of “together forever.”

So I do think he could very kinky, sexual or not, but he needs to be taught the actual difference between abuse and bdsm/kink. He needs to be shown that he can receive and enjoy pain when he wants and to know it’ll stop when he wants.

He needs to realize he can practice with submission without being a 100%, all or nothing thing—that he still has power in submission too. And he needs to realize the difference between pleasure, safe pain and what’s just sadistic torture.

(This isn’t to get into all the fear and trauma responses and memories it’ll all likely drudge up in Stage 1, 3, 4, even if it’s important to satisfy st2’s needs while unlearning the mindsets behind them.)

He and Color already have a head start in the whole thing, given that the entire reason why Color’s approach worked, whereas Swap and Dream’s didn’t, was that Color gave him a choice. Color kept consistently giving Killer choices, and respected whichever ones he made. Killer can learn how to do respect others, and himself, how to advocate for himself—by following Color’s consistent example.

Which is all to say, that I think that if Killer ever got into BDSM—likely to explore and satisfy his needs for control and pain in a controlled and safe environment—I think he’d explore many kinks, and discover them for himself and perhaps alongside any partner(s).

And now it becomes less from a place of re-enacting trauma and abuse that have become normalized to him, and more about unlearning that and finding what he enjoys. And fostering a sense of trust and intimacy alongside a clearer sense of boundaries and consent and healthy relationships.

But of course everyone can feel free to add on with what kinks ya’ll think he’d specifically be in.

{ @unamzi }

[theworldofotps]

Don't Mind

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Count: 1,090 Description: Tyler's girlfriend is an exotic dancer; he's warned all of his coworkers to leave her alone. Sammy doesn't listen.

Massive thank you to my beloved @omg-im-such-a-masochist for helping me with some of the idea and basically outlining the perfect direction to take this. _______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @madhatterbri @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @alyyaana  @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars If you wanna be added to the list lemme know Hook Tag list: @wickedval ________

“So, what’s up with your girlfriend Hook?”

Tyler looked up from his phone in the direction of the question seeing Jericho staring at him the younger man raised a brow.

“What about her?”

“Is it true I mean I’ve heard she’s a performer and I’ve seen some of her Instagram posts is it true?”

“So, what if it is, what’s it to you?”

“Just curious is all I’ve never met a wrestler whose partner is a stripper.”

“She prefers exotic dancer and Dan’s wife is a Burlesque performer it’s along the same lines.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Aren’t you worried someone else is going to snatch her away or she’s going to cheat on you with someone from or that’s she’s met at work.”

Tyler did his best to keep from rolling his eyes at the question he’s heard more than once from his coworkers.

“No, I’m not worried because I trust my girlfriend I’m the one going home with her nobody else, so I don’t honestly mind.”

“Oh okay, what club does she work at?”

“That’s none of your business and I suggest if you somehow find out not to bother going there, any of you or I will personally throw you out myself.”

“Okay okay easy man no need to get worked up.”

Jericho held his hands up in surrender and started a different conversation with one of their other coworkers. Tyler puts his phone in his pocket and leaves the room deciding to actually go and visit her. When his phone rings he puts it on the car phone and starts it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi babe it’s me.”

“Mamas I was just getting ready to come and see you.”

“Oh, perfect I had a break, but I wanted to talk to you really quick before I went back to work.”

“What’s up?”

“Haven’t you told your coworkers not to show up here?” “Yes, I have why?” “Well, that Sammy guy did, and he asked for a private dance…from me.” Tyler felt as if everything froze the sound of Y/n’s voice fading in the background as she continued to speak.

“Don’t go anywhere near that room tell your boss that something came up and you need to give it to another girl. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Ending the call Tyler peeled out of the parking lot making his way towards the club, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He had made it very clear that he didn’t want any of his coworkers going to the club; the fact Sammy went and then had the fucking nerve to ask for a private dance from his girlfriend. No Tyler intended to kick his ass if he didn’t leave the first time he asked.

Pulling into the parking lot he got out and showed his ID, the bouncer was familiar with him, but he did it anyway. Going inside Tyler walked over to the bar motioning for y/n’s best work friend to come and talk with him.

“Hey Hook, didn’t expect you here today.”

“What room is y/n supposed to be in?”

“She’s in the breakroom.”

“Thank you.”

Walking through the club he made his way towards the breakroom which he occasionally got to sneak into when he wanted to spend a little time with you. Not bothering to knock he pushed open the door spotting her sat at the table sipping a bottle of water.

“What room is he in?”

He asked, voice hard as he watched her, just seeing her sitting there in her work outfit the thought of Sammy trying to get her.

“You scared the shit out of me babe, room number four.”

Y/n says as he turned walking down the hallway but stopped, he had no idea where the rooms even were. Grabbing her bottle Y/n followed him and gave directions to the private rooms then pointed a dark red door with a number four on it.

“Wait here.”

He said gently touching her cheek and opened the door, Sammy was sat with a drink in his hand and his back to the door.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long, now come dance for daddy like I paid for.”

Sammy chuckled sipping his drink and set it on a small stand next to the chair he was in; Tyler walked over grabbing him by his shirt dragging him over the chair arm.

“What the fuck?”

Sammy managed to get out before Tyler hits him watching as the man falls to the floor holding his face.

“I told all of you not to come here more than once I told you to stay far away from y/n’s place of work and yet you go behind my back. And then you book a fucking private room with her?”

Tyler was seething as he grabbed Sammy’s collar and shoved him into the wall, Y/n stood outside the door watching as the two of them went back and forth arguing. Sammy was doing his best to make it to the exit and Tyler was landing a hit every time he managed to lay a hand on him. When security came in to break it up Y/n spoke quietly to the bouncer watching him lead Sammy out. Turning she saw Tyler still pacing the floor, walking over she forced him to sit in the chair after closing the door. Thinking for a moment she could still see the rage and frustration on his face. Biting her lip she turned on some soft music dimming the lights ever so slightly and walked back to the chair. Whenever she wanted to work on a new dance for work, she’d practice them with Tyler. This one she was about to do though was one she hadn’t got the chance to try on him yet. As the music drifted into the room from the speaker, y/n began moving her body with the tempo. Slow movements at first as the song began to build her hands dancing across him as her hips moved.

Tyler watched her slowly realization of what she was doing hit him and he couldn’t help but feel himself relax a bit. “She’s really dancing for me, damn I’m one lucky S.O.B”

He thought his hands finally reaching out to touch her, y/n smiled seeing that his features were finally relaxing. Leaning close she pressed a kiss to his neck letting her lips linger as her tongue flicked out to taste the skin.

“Let me dance for you baby just sit here and enjoy the show.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello!!! Since your fics did this to me, I have a truly unhinged request. Can we get one where Daemon is forced to marry a Hightower (Alicent's sister or someone) after his 'divorce' from Rhea Royce and while Daemon is his usual 'pretend like that marriage never happened' stage, going about ignoring her and fucking whores instead, thinking this wife is probably as boring and meek as Alicent and won't say anything. But, surprise! This one's a complete nutcase and turns out she had long since wanted to marry Daemon (I mean look at the man, reader's me) and now that she has him so close, she won't let him ignore her or escape. He HAS to fall in love with her. So one night, while he's drunk she tries him to their bed and when he wakes up, gets a Valyrian dagger and carves her name upon his chest, telling him something like "See, now I'm so deep into you, you cannot pretend I'm not here." And surprise! Masochist unhinged Daemon actually does fall in love with her. I mean, how can he not! Name carving?! Beautiful! So fucking hot! They fuck (him still tied but she rides him GOOD, like they made her for him only.) And once done, she untied him and then HE carves his name on her back. Because she too wants him so deep engraved into her skin.

Please let me have this!!! Pleasee!!!!!!!

Made For You

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader

Summary: You grew up in not one, but two shadows, your older sister's and your sister's best friend's. People often mistook your silence for docility, and perhaps to an extent you were, but in truth, you inherited all the desperation, the eagerness, and the nefariousness of from your family.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, yandere!reader, mentions/depictions of violence (blood, gore?, murder), smut (dubcon?, fingering, bdsm themes, masochism, knife play [but they injure each other 💀], marking, scratching, vaginal penetration, degradation kink, breeding kink, bondage, choking), just general dark/grotty themes, typos, etc.

A/N: ok very much MINORS DNI hello im calling 911 this is crazy and i love it HAHAHAHH update i am very confused if i love it lol HsaL:FHASHFAF. i had a little problem with believing daemon would marry a hightower 💀 so i had to add a part explaining that to convince myself. anyway. i hope you enjoy. idk what happened to be honest. im just glad i got this over with. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @sloanexx

My compulsive habit of chewing my lip had made me addicted to the taste of blood. And though I was heading to the library, the same one I did every single day, my heart was pounding because I knew today would be different. I knew today the prince would be here.

The moment I walked in, I headed straight for the bookshelf that held the only tomes I knew Daemon read. I sucked the iron off my swollen lip and released a sigh as I began to go through the books.

I snort in a sharp breath when I hear a voice to my side. I turn left and find him, short sliver hair spilling down his forehead, a faint line between his brows, and a slight curve in his lips. He had spoken to me in High Valyrian.

I bring my hands to the side. I pull at the inside of my bottom lip. He watches me, awaiting a correct response to his words.

"Iskan..." I start slowly, "kesīr naejot jurnegon rȳ se tembyr."

I'm here to look at the books.

My stomach flutters when he chuckles.

"Very good," he says, standing straight, walking over to me, "though it's Iksan," he adds, reaching out for a book. He opens it but keeps his eyes on me and repeats, "Iksan."

"Iksan," I mutter, looking down at his book.

He closes the book and mindlessly puts it back, "good," he leans on the shelf, "now once more. All together."

I dart my eyes up to him and lick my lips, "Iksan kesīr naejot jurnegon rȳ se tembyr."

He chuckle, reaching out for my hair, "had you not inherited the ghastly color of your father's locks, you'd have me fooled to be of my blood."

My breathing heavies.

He laughs, muttering words in his mother tongue too quick for me to understand.

When he pulls his hand away, I am eager to say something that will elicit the same response, "I am glad I amuse you, my prince Daemon."

Daemon hums and turns about, "you are eager to please me so. How could I not?

I follow after him as he makes his way back to his chair. I spot the heap of books on his side as he sits down.

"Would you like me to take those back, your grace?"

Daemon turns from me to the books on his side then tilts his head, "I don't suppose you are trying to get a job as a librarian."

My eyes widen at his words, "no, I am not."

He straightens in his spot and crosses his legs, "then tell me, will you make no attempt to escape from your hundred year old prospect?"

I grip my skirt.

Daemon raises his brows along with the corner of his lips.

"You know of this?" I mutter softly.

"Your cunt of a father spoke of it to Viserys in the morn," he pouts in thought, "he spewed some crap about the old man from wherever the fuck being enchanted by you when you met him two nights before at the banquet."

I clear my throat, "Lord Sheperding was... quite eager to speak to my father about my prospects."

Daemon bounces his foot up and down. He grips the armrest, "so tell me," he stands and marches over, catching my face in his hands, craning my head up, "did the cretin that fucked you into your mother ask you to come here and seduce me like he did your bitch sister?"

My throat constricts in panic, "I-"

He pushes me back until my I was pressed between him and the side of the bookshelf. His hands come around my neck, "don't you dare fucking lie to me."

I gulp at the fact he was not putting pressure in his grip. My stomach flurries. I shake my head frantically, "my father would rather kill me than ever allow me to yours."

"But that is what you want," he blurts, beginning to tighten his hold on me, "what you have wanted for long, no?"

My heart hammers in my chest. My hands dart to his sides. I moan out, "yes."

Daemon leans close to me, "then I will give you what you want." He releases my neck and begins to pull up my skirt, "but if I find your father pleased by our union, I will make sure your death is more painful than that bronze bitch's."

I let out an involuntary whine but then bite my lip tightly when I feel Daemon's hands make their way to my inner thigh.

"Oh you filthy girl," he moans, "you don't seem to need my fingers at all with how worked up you've gotten yourself."

I cover my mouth when I feel his fingers brush over my burning core.

Daemon pulls away and rip my fingers off. He tuts me and flips me over, shoving my chest against the shelf, "this will only work if you're loud enough for someone to hear."

And someone very much did hear. As swiftly as Daemon had made me come undone by the shelves of library, the news came to my father of the disgrace I had done to my maidenhood, to our name, to him. So when he came to me, he chastised me and left physical evidence of his sore displeasure and then he came to the king demanding justice.

Upon seeing the state of me, King Viserys called for his brother, and Queen Alicent offered me comfort. Daemon came with haughtiness and scorn. My father and my sister eyed him dirtily. Upon seeing the mark on my cheek, the only mark on my body that he had not left, Daemon looked to the enraged king and agreed to the demand of taking responsibility of his actions.

So with a violet cheek hidden behind makeup, reddish marks on my neck hidden behind a high collar, a swollen eye, and bitten lips, I was wed to the prince.

I was now his princess, his wife.

Yet a month later, I was just a stranger that lived in his house that inconvenienced him. Why just this morning, he came from his chambers where he would bring his whores to fuck them, then came into our shared chambers to sleep, knowing I'd be gone and awake by now.

I watched him from the mirror as he walked across the room.

I stopped brushing my hair by the time Daemon jumped into our bed. I release a breath, "tired, my love?"

"Dorea kept me up all night," he chuckles, "filthy girl."

I cringe at the nickname. He had called me that when he made me his wife. That was my nickname, mine.

I turn over to look at him. He was curled up under the blankets, embracing a pillow. I stand from the chair in front of my vanity, "there is a banquet we must attend in the afternoon."

"Go by yourself," he mutters.

I clench my jaw and walk over to him, "the bastard lord, as you affectionately call will be there."

Daemon, who had his eyes closed, furrows his brows, "which one?"

"The one who called you a tyrant in the making."

He chuckles, rolling over on his chest. He begins to curse in High Valyrian.

I reach our bed and sit by the side, looking at him, wanting so badly to brush back his hair, to snuggle next to him, to make love to him, to cage him in me. I press my hands on the bed. I purse my lips before I whisper, "would you like for me to handle him?"

Daemon does not respond nor move.

"I will do anything for you... I can kill him for you if that is what you want."

When I move to stand, my groom speaks, "kill him then."

He turns to his face to the other side of the bed, I watch as he rubs his cheek on the pillows. He mutters idly, "bring me his head."

"And then you'll let me have you to myself?"

He laughs, "whatever you want."

But he betrayed me still. He couldn't fucking wait to get his cock wet.

I came to him that night with the lord's severed head. He was in his other chamber room, with a whore I have not seen before. And she had been going ah-ah-ah in pleasure as he straddled my prince, but then she made the mistake of turning over her shoulder. She ripped out an ear-piercing shriek upon seeing my figure, drenched in red, both hands clutching things of horror.

She fled the room promptly after seeing me, screeching loudly. Daemon however, was reeling at the sudden loss of contact. It became apparent to me that he was drunk, possibly out of his mind.

I walked over to him, beholding his naked form, his wet erection. I raise one hand, the one holding the severed head. I frown deeply, "your prize, husband."

I throw it to him.

Daemon, instinctively swats as he evades it. The lord's head rolls on the floor. He groans and pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at me and narrows his eyes, slowly speaking my name, as though he was only recognizing it was me now.

I begin to shudder. I begin to shake in rage. I clench my jaw and my fists. I grab my skirt and lunge at him, pinning him down beneath me, raising my other hand, still clad with the weapon I used to slay the man with. I press it to his throat, screaming as tears fogged my eyes, "I HATE YOU."

Daemon clutches my arms and pushes me back, not before I manage to nick his skin and make red gush down the side of his throat.

I feel like he is pushed into a semblance of sobriety after this, and yet in my rage, I still managed to subdue him in his still very much intoxicated state.

We struggle against each other, but the only important thing to know is that my fury managed to best him. Now here we were. I was straddling his hips and he was tied to the bed, hissing at the feel of my cold blade on his chest.

Daemon was wide eyed and very much sober with the pain at this point.

"It's so nice of you not to scream and call for help, prince husband," I mutter as I etch my initials on to his left pec, "your pride will be the death of you, you know. Be glad I have no intention to kill you. even now."

"Mad cunt," he spits in anger.

"You told me I could have you to myself!" I scream, body trembling in rage, "now I must mark you so your whores know who you belong to."

He huffs, shifting his hips beneath me. I repel him and force him still.

Daemon growls as I toss my blade on to the bedside table and lean and lick the blood on his skin. His blood tastes so much better than mine. I moan at the iron and shift from how I was straddled atop him. My skirt bunches up by his midriff as I suckle on his flesh and nipped at his skin with my teeth

He strains against the bounds I managed to put on his wrists and releases a moan.

I lift my head at the sound of it and breathe hotly against him, "wicked dragon," I sit up then slap him across the face, "you're not meant to enjoy this," I rub his cheek down to his chest, "not really. This is meant to satisfy me."

Daemon looks at me, frazzled by the hit.

"You've been nothing but spiteful even though I've been nothing but obedient, prince husband," I mutter, leaning into him, digging my nails into his chest, "and you insult me so greatly by wasting your precious seed on whores who could not bear you any heirs."

I prop myself up on his chest. Daemon pants at the rocking movement of my hips. I scowl at him as I gather my skirt up until my skin was bare against his. I whimper at the feel of his still hardened member pulsing beneath my own pulse. I recall the whore he was with just moments ago, and how her slick was glistening on his manhood. I feel ire and jealousy burn through me.

"Is it not painfully obvious to you that I can be your whore, your grace?!" I bark through tears as I grab his hair and pull his head up.

Daemon grunts, "fucking bitch."

I desperately retort, "I'll be your fucking bitch, Daemon. I want to be your fucking bitch, your slut, your plaything, your executioner, your bride, your darling. Everything, whatever you want from me, I can become it."

I release his hair, making his head fall down. He looks up at me as I lift myself up and grab his veiny girth, aligning him into my core and burying him deep with me.

"Fuck," he huffs.

I whimper at his reaction, licking my lips as I do so, "I want to hurt you so badly, Daemon, but I love you so much that I'll make you feel good while do it however."

I begin to bounce on top of him while I dig my thumb into his fresh wound and choke him with my other hand.

Daemon begins to exclaim in his mother tongue, gripping tightly on the bounds on his wrists.

I groan and lick the blood off my thumb as I fuck myself on him. I move up and down on his hard erection, mind going wild with the fantasies I've thought of him long before we were even wed. When he begins to let out a strangled sound, I release the pressure on his throat and lean on his chest as it heaves up and down.

"Don't wanna see you with anyone else, Daemon," I mutter as I quicken my pace a notch and begin to feel my stomach tighten, "I'll kill your whores cause I can't kill you. Never you, my love."

Daemon groans as he catches his breath, "faster."

I whine at his command and eagerly give into him, adjusting myself atop him and allowing myself to plop up and down him at a quicker and rougher tempo. I feel my insides flutter at the sound of his moans. I scratch his chest up and down with my nails and look down at his face, mouth ajar, eyes shut, neck straining.

"I was made for you, husband," I mutter, biting my lower lip as I feel my core tighten and my climax build, "was made to be your confidant, your right hand, your bride, your baby maker."

He groans, "is that right, come slut?" He lifts his head up, "you want to bear my children so badly you tied me up to fuck yourself on me?"

I whine and nod my head, "yes," I muffle out, "s'all I think about. Wanna be good to you. Wanna give you everything. Wanna give you sons and daughters."

Daemon replies in High Valyrian. I vaguely recognize it as compliment and a curse.

I begin to lose my breath as I ride him more desperately than ever.

"Then take what you want from me and come on my cock, come slut."

I nod my head and clench around him, "yes, Daemon, yes, yes, yes-"

I feel my body begin to burn and flare at my ministrations. I fuck him eagerly and begin to feel grow manic with every thrash and every grunt.

Daemon huffs and rips at his bounds, "you better not disappoint me, my Hightower bitch."

"No, husband," I grunt,

"You better take me good."

"Yes! Gonna be so good to you, so good."

I hear him say something after, but I don't have time to make sense of it as I feel myself tighten then shatter all over him. I cry out his name in pleasure, and as I ride out the pleasure as much as I can. Only then do I realize that Daemon was thrusting into me as well. It is twice as evident as I begin to slow my pace.

And then my toes curl and my nails dig into his skin when his heat shoots into me. It makes my flesh quake and intensifies my undoing.

I scream out his name. He calls me dirty ones. I bask in our union and slowly come down from my high. Slowly making sure he was just as spent as I was like a dutiful wife.

What remains is a mess. I am a mess of short breath, sweat, and blood as I slowly sink down and fall onto Daemon's chest. I whimper against him, dazed by it all, but completely and utterly satisfied with myself.

I lap at his wound, soothing myself as I enjoy the remaining stretch inside me, the fullness and warmth planted in my belly.

I knit my brows when I feel hands come around my form.

"Take off your clothes."

I lift my head out and look at Daemon's face, his eyes blown and his lips parted. I push myself up, "how did you get o-"

I whimper when he chuckles, my tenderness sensitive to vibrations if his body. His hands run up my back, to the ties on my dress. His fingers begin to tug and he undo them, "you cannot seriously believe to have overpowered me, little girl."

Before my pulse could even calm, it's racing all over again when Daemon easily flips us over and begins pushing my skirt up, "your knots are shite. I'll teach you how to properly tie a victim up."

He arduously rips my dress off my body overhead, up until I was as naked as he was beneath him. He looks down at my bareness and grips my thighs, roughly ripping his nails in a downward motion, making me reach out to him as I whine.

Daemon grunts before he chuckles, "I can feel you clench around me, dirty whore."

I squeak when he pushes forward and reaches out for something. He places my blade between my breasts then adjusts my legs around him as he pushes himself up on one arm. He then grabs the blade and eyes me darkly as he presses the steel on my skin. I slap my hand on my mouth when he begins cut into my abdomen. He looks down at his work as my tighten my legs around him, holding back my sounds as he did.

"Don't be selfish, slut," he mutters, "I own your womb. I ought to mark it now."

Daemon's eyes flick up to me as I scream into my hand and screw my teary eyes shut.

I silently sob at the sting of the blade and try to control my cries until he finishes. I begin to heave when I hear the sound of something being dropped to the floor.

I whimper and open my eyes when I feel Daemon sigh as he sinks back down onto me, face coming to the side of my own. He pushes my hands off my face in order to press our chests together. I lean into his shoulder and suckle at his skin to soothe myself.

"Shhhh," he kisses my cheek, "I'll make you feel better, my bride. Make sure to fill you up until you're full with my seed, okay?"

I nod my head and wrap my arms around him.

"Olvie sȳz," he mutters, "good little slut for me."

[wickjump]

Hey. Hey come here.

*gets really close and whispers in your ear*

Nightmare with leg problems/chronic pain in legs that he doesn't want to admit/acknowledge until one day he literally falls down in front of one of his gang members (like Killer for example) and finally needs to acknowledge it and is forced to go to a doctor and finds out he needs to use a cane (or be a part time wheelchair user or something) and he's very upset about this and Dream is confused on why there hasn't been any attacks on AUs recently, meanwhile the gang is helping Night get used to this.

*runs away*

(Sorry if this was inaccurate on chronic pain idk much about it)

OOH OOH ME ME i have chronic pain!!!! granted in my back not legs BUT I HVAE IT!!! aw i love chronic pain headcanons they make me feel happy. it’s good to be in pain when other characters also are so you can write it well (i recently was in the emergency room for it)

i feel like he would find other ways to continue his work even without the use of his legs (ie using tentacles to walk/move around, which we’ve seen him use before, and def have other types of pain—head pain and migraines, for example, because half his head was blown off. he 🤝 horror )the worst migraines ever)

he’s a very work oriented type character, regardless of interpretation he’s often doing work in some shape or form, whether physical or paperwork; i don’t think that would change at all. i love aid users btw, especially hcs too theyre so underrepresented, and i def think that works for other characters, but nightmare,, wouldn’t, the same way i haven’t gotten a cane despite how that would probably make my life easier. I’m a ‘tough through the pain’ kind of person—I’ll feel it regardless, it’s best to chuck pain meds and get on with my day. and nightmare does have options—again, tentacles, the ability to grow said tentacles and generally shift to provide aids on his own.

sans would use a cane/wheelchair 100%, as would most other classic variants or swap papyri. they don’t care nearly enough to make themselves feel pain on the daily for sake of “usefulness” or “appearances”. nightmare, i just don’t think would. he views his cause as too important and neglecting his pain like i or others can do seems more fitting. he’d despise not being able to move as ‘freely’ as he’d like even if it would be better for him. on worse days he sits down the entire time in his office and makes his henchmen do his dirty work. he’d find ways to work with it—he is 500 years old after all.

but holy shit do i LOVE the headcanon where he has chronic pain in his legs!!!!!!!!!! i feel that he uses something that acts like a cane but isn’t sometimes, something like a staff that he subconsciously uses to support himself while still looking ‘prestigious’ or whatever the fuck. but traditional aids? no way. he’d sooner die than go to a doctor, he’s too full of himself and cocky to get help from someone, especially one he doesn’t know. even in a fanon approach where his gang urges him to do something about it, he’d rather make a remedy for worse pain himself.

idk just my thoughts!!!!! also don’t skip out on getting aids or pain meds nightmare is immortal and a fucking stuck up asshole and an idiot. go to a doctor. get checked out. get prescription pain meds and aids if you need them. do all the things, don’t do what i do im just a dick to myself and probably a bit of a masochist given how little i ask for help with these things 😭

ANYWAY YA!!!! love this hc so much thank u anon,,

[blitzyn]

special attention

dottore x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: Piquing Dottore's interest was something you never expected to achieve during your entire time as a Fatui Agent.

second part | third part

a/n -> omg im so sorry i was gone for so long i didnt know what to write and i was so tired pls forgive me

wc -> 2.2k

cw -> dubious consent, overstimulation, dacryphilia, vibrators, desk sex, slight mirror sex?, semi-public sex, accidental exhibitionism?, anal fingering, anal sex, reader is a fatui agent, reader is a masochist, dottore is a sadist, biting kink, slight blood, rough sex, no aftercare sorry

“You’ve intrigued me.”

Three words you never expected to hear, especially not from your Lord, Dottore. Compliments from him were not easily given unless the person in question had done something that truly garnered his attention - which was an incredibly rare feat. You filed through your memories in search of anything that could answer your question.

Nothing.

So why has he summoned you to his office?

“It is an honor, my Lord,” thoughts ran rampant through your head. “May I ask why I have gained your attention?”

You could hear him rise from his chair and walk over to you. His steps echoed on the cold, marble floor that grew louder upon his approach. He stopped in front of you, his black boots the only thing you could see from your kneeling position. “You’re the most impressive Agent that has worked under me.”

“You have captured and detained countless traitors and secured numerous bases throughout the nation. Not a single person has reclaimed those areas during your stay there,” he counted your achievements. “Yet, all of this has been done with not a crack in that calm facade of yours.”

“I have studied your methods of retaining information, and have been unable to decipher a hint of ulterior motives, or… emotions,” your eyes widened underneath your mask. He was watching you?

You fought the urge to flinch when his hand suddenly found itself on the top of your head to move your hood. “Not a sliver of pent up anger. Grief. Excitement. Nothing.”

“Naturally, this has brought a deal of curiosity to me,” he tightly held onto your hair to force your head back. His other hand removed your mask, revealing your face. “Maintaining a persona such as yours is no easy task, I imagine.”

He tugged on your hair to pull you up from your knee. He shifted himself behind you as soon as you got to your feet. “Of course, there must be some sort of weakness to it. You don’t strike me as heartless.”

His hand moved to your neck, palm resting over your Adam’s apple, feeling it bob when you swallowed. You stared straight ahead, ignoring the way his masked gaze bore into the side of your face. He slid it lower, down to your collarbones and chest. His hand rested on your left pec, smirking to himself upon feeling your racing heartbeat. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see you lose your composure completely.

He squeezed the muscle and pinched your nipple before sliding it farther down your body. He paused at the waistband of your pants. He noticed that you were no longer focused on the wall, but on his hand instead.

Were you anticipating what he was going to do next? Were you dreading it? What did you feel? The pounding of your heart was an insufficient amount of information.

He covered your cock - already semi-hard. “Oh? Excited, are we?”

He received no reply as he began to gently stroke you through your clothes. He saw your jaw tense, much to his hidden amusement. He was getting there.

To the average eye, it would seem as if you were bored; annoyed even. But he knew better with the way your dick twitched and throbbed from his touch, with the way a small spot of your pre-cum soaked through the fabrics.

He suddenly pulled away, much to your dismay. You dared not to move without his permission.

“Strip,” he demanded. You were still caught off-guard with the command, despite having predicted it. He crossed his arms at your pause. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Apologies, my Lord,” you said, swiftly undoing all of the buttons and ties in your clothes. Your skin prickled with goosebumps from the cold air of the room, feeling your face heat with embarrassment as he inspected your bare body. He was most drawn to the numerous amounts of scars that littered your flesh. Did you react? ‘Did you scream?’ he thought when he spotted a particularly harsh one.

He placed his hands on your shoulders to guide you closer to his desk, bending you over when you met the edge. His gloved fingers removed the thin piece of underwear that was left on your person. You hid your face in your crossed arms, too humiliated from being completely nude in front of Dottore.

Your eyes shifted when you could no longer feel his presence behind you, watching as he walked behind his desk. He gave you an amused smile as he dug through a drawer, retrieving a small vial and something else before returning back to you.

You curiously looked over your shoulder, trying to figure out what the other item was. He poured about half of the fluid in the vial on his hand, slick noises filling the cold room. He spread your ass apart before pushing the tip of his finger inside you.

You watched intently, slightly wincing in discomfort with the way his finger felt against your walls. You suddenly gasped when it brushed over a spot inside you, tensing up in response.

He suddenly stopped on your prostate, pressing up against it with enough force to render it uncomfortable. He pressed the palm of his other hand on the shaft of your cock, a cold object making it twitch in response.

"Normally, this device would be used to dissolve solids in liquids," he briefly explained. "But I suppose it could be used differently."

You couldn't restrain the moan that left your throat when he activated it, the harsh vibrations traveling all throughout your body. He began moving his finger again, prodding your prostate repeatedly. He added another one to begin a scissoring motion. His other hand gently jerked you off, sliding the device up and down your shaft. You clenched around his fingers when he circled the vibrator on your tip, biting down on your arm to quiet your noises.

Your eyes closed in concentration, focusing on breathing through your nose. The coil in your abdomen tightened with each passing second.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. “I-I’m about to cum, my Lord.”

“Don’t,” Dottore replied. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, opting to bury your head in your arms. You lightly squirmed on his desk, trying to find something to distract you of your incoming orgasm. You tensed when his hand around your weeping cock tightened considerably to stroke you faster. Your heart dropped when the heat became far too hot for you to bear.

With a strangled squeak, you came, jutting your hips forward. Dottore removed his hands as soon as the first rope of cum spurt from your cock.

“I have never thought I’d ever see the day you’d disregard my order,” he said, pressing himself flush against your backside. You could feel his erection straining through his pants as you rambled apologies.

“Silence,” he demanded. “Though, seeing as you’re not one to disobey me to begin with, I suppose I can let it slide just this once.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” you said through shaky breaths. His hands caressed your hips, smearing your cum and fluids across your skin. He grinded against your ass before flipping you over on the desk, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widened when you saw your reflection on the ceiling.

“It was used back when I didn’t have a large enough laboratory. I instructed my subordinates, and they watched through the mirror. It’d take too long to remove, so I decided to keep it,” he explained while swiftly undoing his pants. “We find new uses every day, don’t we? How exciting.”

He brought the vial back out and poured the other half of the fluids on his dick. He rubbed it around before pressing the tip against your hole. You intently watched through the mirror as he slid inside, holding onto the tops of your thighs tightly. The stretch he made burned, but - god - if you said it didn’t feel good, you’d be lying.

The pain went straight to your cock as Dottore groaned and mumbled about how tight you were. Every nerve in your body was on fire, shooting sparks of electricity up and down your body. He was about halfway inside when he suddenly slammed the rest into you, forcing a low moan from your throat. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, starting at an overwhelming pace.

He did not waste a second to begin fucking you how he desired, every slap of his hips hard enough to hurt. His desk shook as various papers fluttered onto the floor. You dug your nails into the wood, leaving crescent imprints. You stared at your jolting body, or, more specifically, at his cock moving in and out of you.

Your eyes were half-lidded with steady, low moans - much to his disapproval. Having memorized where the one special spot was from his fingers, he angled his hips a certain way so his dick brushed against it every time he thrust. You tightened your legs around him in response, beginning to release louder whimpers and groans.

One of his hands snaked over your body to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your perked nipple. You clenched tighter around him and let out a choked moan when he suddenly pinched hard.

“Oh, you like it when it hurts?” he noted, adjusting his hold on you to lean forward. You could feel his heavy breath on the junction of your shoulder and neck before he bit down with enough force to draw blood, letting it leak through the sides of his mouth. The burning pain only merged with the onslaught of pleasure, amplifying it to send you crashing into your orgasm. Spurts of cum reached even to your chest.

Your hands tightly held onto Dottore’s shoulders, trembling pitifully. He helped you ride your high until you finally loosened your grip on him. He pulled away, a trail of your crimson blood rolling down his chin. He licked his lips clean and wiped the stream with his thumb to place it in his mouth. He removed his cock from you; much to your confusion.

He was still hard. What was he…?

Oh.

He retrieved the vibrating object from before and activated it. He shoved it as deep inside you as he could go with his fingers before quickly replacing them with his dick. Your back arched, feeling the vibrations reverberate through your entire body. His deep groan was drowned out by your surprisingly whorish moan, feeling him fuck the vibrator deeper than you thought possible.

He resumed his relentless pace, watching you intently. His cock twitched and throbbed with every unrestrained moan you made, using it as motivation to go harder and faster. His hand grabbed your aching dick and stroked alongside his thrusts. You let out a string of curses (that you tried to silence - you hope he didn’t mind) as the added stimulation sent your nerves into overdrive.

It quickly became too much, and, before you knew it, tears flooded your eyes and fell down the sides of your face. It sent an unexpected shock up and down Dottore’s spine that triggered his orgasm, rope after rope of cum dumped into you. His hips spasmed as he engraved the sight to memory. Your walls clenched tightly around him, as if you were milking everything he had to offer.

The vibrator ceased to stop as he slowly pulled out, strings of his cum and lube attached to his pelvis and cock.

“M-My Lord, please,” you sobbed into your hand. “Pl-Please turn it - fuck - off!”

He pressed two fingers inside you with ease, prodding around inside you before humming. “It seems I pushed it too far inside you to reach. You’re going to have to push it out.”

Your stomach dropped. If this wasn’t the most humiliating bullshit you’ve ever heard in your life.

You tilted your head back with a moan, the agonizing build-up to your orgasm was so slow but was the fastest thing you’ve experienced at the same time. You squirmed on the desk as he fixed himself, knowing he was waiting.

You tensed and pushed, but you were unable to get it out of you. You wanted it out, but your body kept it deep inside. With a moan that sounded more like a sob, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I can’t,” you cried. “‘M so-sorry.”

With a disappointed huff, he turned the vibrator off with a remote he had elsewhere and pulled the vibrator out. Although he wanted to see you push it out, he was satisfied with finally being able to see something other than your usual facade. He let you get your bearings as you stared at the mirror.

‘Holy fuck,’ you thought through your hazy mind. With a considerable amount of effort, you sat up.

He began picking up the papers that fell before turning to you. “I will grant you a day off tomorrow, but do expect to see me again soon.”

With a tired nod, you said, “Yes, my Lord.”

You put your clothes back on as fast as you could and promptly left his office. A few subordinates idly stood around, some with beet red faces, and others straight up refusing to look at you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your cool when you felt his cum dribbling out of you.

You couldn’t wait to see him again.

cross-posted on ao3