#technically it would mean he's a sadist

[kanona56]

I'm only just now realizing just how much abuse I put Philip through in my last chapter like goddamn bro was still throwing hands at Evan with basically his entire ribcage broken and like 30% of his blood splattered everywhere on the ground what a fucking king

[sstrwbrryccke]

—bullying him pt.2 | sub choi soobin

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

tags: bully reader x nerd soobin, gn reader, mean reader, sadistic reader, somewhat possessive reader, one-sided crush but not really (reader has feelings too but doesn’t admit it), public humiliation, public orgasms, dubcon, oral (soob.receiving), vibrator (soob.receiving), unhealthy relationship, heavy exhibitionism, kind of cute at the end?

its a few weeks or maybe months into this weird relationship you two established. or more accurately, you pulling him around and him being at your every beck and call. maybe your relationship with him was a secret, but how downbad he is for you wasn’t. it was real obvious how he looked at you in class, only to look down when you made eye contact with him. a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. look at him, getting his hope up and everything. when you call him to your desk during lunch break, he couldn’t help his eagerness, walking past your friends and glancing at you through his bangs. it’s pathetic, really, how excited he gets when you give him attention.

“what… what did you need?” he repeated, barely able to keep himself in check. probably used up all his courage just to choke out those words. your friends stare at the two of you, some holding back their laughter while others were glaring at him. he shrivel under their judging gazes, his tall figure and head slightly slumped as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller. which was impossible, considering how tall he was.

you smile at him, and he lights up a little. “yeah, can you get me a drink at the vending machine?”

he dissipates visibly, a small frown on his plump lips before he nods— you would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for how cute he looked while sad. he quickly rushed out of the classroom, probably to get away from your friend’s snickering.

soobin’s attraction was no secret even to you. but could you really blame him? just a few days ago, you discovered something shocking (or maybe it was already obvious), not only was soobin a friendless loser (to his own admission), but he also had the biggest, fattest crush on you ever since the start of high school. when he told you, you couldn’t help but grin, this was a gold mine. from then on, it was just so much easier to play with him.

you were slapped out your daze by your friends, they were patting your back while laughing.

“holy shit, you made him your errand boy?” one joked, but you felt a slight rising irritation at their sudden attention towards soobin. it was irrational, seriously, because you really had no problem with it before.

“woah, why the glaring.” another just jested, and you rolled your eyes, packing up your lunch.

“i mean, i would kill for an errand boy. bet he’ll get down on his knees and—“

“shut up. with your face, he doesn’t need to be on his knees to gag” you snap, and perhaps you overreacted. but your friends shrugged it off as a joke, laughing and jabbing at the guy who got insulted

“damn they got you there.”

you put the final item into your bag before standing up and heading for the door.

“yo where you going?”

“rooftop.” you weren’t technically lying.

during school, outside of the classmate context, you pretend to not know him, it was more fun that way. you told him it was because you couldn’t associate with a loser like him, and he meekly nodded. (real reason? teasing him was fun).

it was easy to spot soobin at the vending machine, lamely contemplating which drink you would like the most. so concentrated that he didn’t even notice your figure approaching him until your strong grip was pulling him by the arm. he visibly flinches, wide eyes confused as he stumbles behind you.

“the— you— the drink”

“i wasn’t even thirsty.”

he seemed puzzled at this, but lets you manhandle his tall ass figure anyways (it never ceases to turn him on). you release his arm when you reach the rooftop. he takes a glance at his surroundings before looking back at you. suddenly awkward in his body again, he shifts from one foot to the other while fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“so uhm… what are we do—“

you roughly kiss him and he shuts up with a small startled noise. you push him harshly into the fence and he yelps into the kiss before having his senses dominated by your eager tongue, forcing into his mouth. he was frozen like always, closing his eyes desperately, pilant under your touch because he had no damn idea what he was doing. after a few seconds, his jittery hands push you off, because he physically couldn’t breathe anymore. he inhales shakily, lips wet with saliva and cheeks tinted red.

you hand lowers and begin to unbutton his shirt, feeling from his chest to his stomach. his skin was always so soft and satisfying to feel. (you once asked if he had a skincare routine and he nodded nervously, asking if you wanted to know) you slid your hand up to his nipple, pinching at one. he trembles at this, hands sweaty and he didn’t know where to place them so he just grips at your shoulders. your hand suddenly palms at his bulge and he jolts, a desperate breathy moan escaping his mouth

“it’s! it’s public! we’re— we’re in public!”

he manages to squeak out, eyes squeezed shut. you stop, a snarky expression on your face. you pull away fully, leaving him with his back flush against the fence. he whimpers softly when he felt your weight lift from his body, eyelids fluttering open to look at you.

“m’kay. i’ll just go then.”

you roll your eyes as you turn your heel.

“wait! wait! i’m sorry. im so sorry. please don’t leave me.”

a grin quirks the edges of your lips as you turn back towards him. hands on hips.

“thought you said we’re in public?”

“yes but… i…” he says between bated breathes, blush deepening.

“you still want me to touch you, don’t you? desperate slut.” you step closer to him, grin on your lips.

he gulps, head lowering until his bangs covered his eyes, but you could see the red tips of his ears. he nods slowly.

“good, then we’re doing it my way.”

you stride confidently to him and he shivers. your hand goes to his pants without hesitation, pulling everything down at once. making his rock hard cock slap against his abdomen, angrily red and leaking. you take it in your hands, pumping it a few times and he cries.

“shush. don’t come.”

you just warn, grasping the head of his cock, hard. his thighs tremble but he nods. you found out, while still in the beginning stages of this weird relationship, that soobin orgasms embarrassingly fast. i guess that’s what you get with a perverted virgin nerd who’s only frame of reference for sex is manga porn. but it wasn’t a bad thing really, you just liked seeing him desperately try to hold it in.

“don’t come until i say so, okay?” you repeat, harshly gripping at his cock again and he whimpers a yes.

without hesitation you kneel down, taking his length into your mouth in one go. you can hear his gasp, but you didn’t need to look up to know he was nervous, you could tell with how his calves and thighs shook. you were only teasing when you called him small earlier, because he was big, big enough to hit the back of your throat. you slowly began to move and he moans softly, so sensitive. he tasted sweaty and salty, but it wasn’t a bad scent. (you made sure he was cleaned up after all.)

you pull your mouth off just up till his tip, your tongue swirling around and digging into his slit while your hands pumped the rest of his length. he cries and thrashes, jittery hands coming up to grasp your hair. but you immediately slap him off, glaring up at him. you were in control, not him. you slide your mouth off his cock and he immediately starts apologising.

“i’m sorry! please don’t be mad, i didn’t mean to! i won’t touch you without permission i—i’m sorry, please don’t stop!”

“instead of worrying about your pathetically small dick, how about you worry about your loud ass moans?”

he quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, ears a bright red, eyes teary. you suck his dick into your warm mouth again and he sobs quietly. his moans came out breathy and squeaky, he’s never been a loud moaner, but it was extra hard to keep it down when his bully was literally going to town on his cock. you were enjoying him like he was a lollipop. your hand creeps up to his ass, one finger slipping into his hole, already loose from the morning. (he stayed over and you took him to school) he doubles over, gasping and squirming, thighs trembling, and you knew he was close before he even whispered it. he shakes his head violently, nearly drooling at the double stimulation— and just before his stomach spasms and he feels his sweet orgasm, you pull off. one hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, denying his orgasm.

he cries out, eyes wide as he processes the situation. you stand, legs a little shaky due to kneeling for so long, a smile on your lips. when he realises you weren’t going to let him cum, he sobs, tears quick to come down. his bunny eyes glancing at you meekly as if asking why you stopped.

“oh soobin.” you tease, dropping his cock from your grip. “class is about to start soon, you wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect track record, do you?”

he looks at you in a silent fear at what you’re insinuating, but don’t worry, you were far meaner than that. you pull his pants further down, digging into your pocket and showing him the vibrating bullet you bought especially for him. more tears fall down and you just chuckle.

it didn’t take much for you to squeeze the bullet in. but he was squirming and whimpering the whole way through, shaking his head and looking at you so pitifully.

“you’re… you’re so mean.” his voice cracks, bottom lip trembling.

you wipe his tears with a smirk, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt, his hard-on uncomfortably pressing against the fabric.

“yet look who’s turned on.”

☆★☆

in class it wasn’t any better, he was clearly ruffled, his hair tousled, collar undone and eyes red from previously crying. one of his legs was shaking unrelentlessly as he sits down. wincing when he feels the chair press up against the vibrator.

he was hyperaware how each movement causes the bullet to shift. soobin tries his best to reduce the friction and calm his erection down, but oh boy were you mean. just when he thinks he’s got it handled, you prove him wrong.

because the moment the teacher walked in, the torment began. you would periodically turn on the vibrator, making him jolt in his seat and hit his knee against his desk. alerting everyone to him as he lowers his head in embarrassment, whispering lightly that he was fine when the teacher asked. he came immediately with the stimulation. it was even worse when he was given a question to answer, you were unrelenting, turning it on to the highest setting and making his thighs shake uncontrollably. it took all his willpower and more to not burst out crying and moaning in the middle of class.

“choi soobin? soobin? soobin?”

he jolts from his daze, fists clenching painfully hard, nails digging into his palm. the teacher has been trying to get his attention for the past minute. a few students around him whisper and he quivers. glancing back at you for a second, catching your smug look, hands in your pockets; before he faces back at the teacher.

“mr choi, are you okay?”

no, he was not alright. he had busted into his pants for the 3rd time now and you weren’t even going to give him a break!

“yep, perfectly okay.”

the teacher looks doubtful and god soobin just wishes she would stop talking. he really shouldn’t be thinking like this about his favourite teacher. but please shut up and stop asking already!

“are you sure? you’ve looked uneasy this entire lesson.” and he wanted to dig a hole in the ground to die in shame. he bites his lips hard and you turn down the vibration. is this salvation? are you being nice for once?

“i’m sur —ck.” he bit down on his words, because if he didn’t he would’ve moaned in front of everyone in class. you turned it to the highest, and he really just came in his pants in front of the teacher. he was so overstimulated, it hurt to come, his whole body clenched hard so he could keep his trembling down.

thinking quick on his feet, he covered his stumble with coughing. “i — i may be sick.” he stammers, never has he been a good liar, and you snicker at his cover-up. the teacher however seemed to believe him, no reason to doubt the obedient straight A student after all.

“you should rest when you get home.”

☆★☆

class ends officially with the bell. the teacher dismisses the students with a quick reminder of the homework, not as if anyone was listening. soobin somehow managed to last through the whole class. and thank god was it the last class of the day, otherwise he might really have died. he slumps over his desk in a big sigh of relief. he would pack his things and rush out the door as soon as possible, but— he was afraid to even stand up and move. he didn’t want to look down at his crotch, he knew he had thoroughly soiled his pants and it probably leaked onto the seat.

you waited with him, putting every item extra slow into your bag. when the teacher had left the room, telling you two to lock the classroom behind you. that’s when you moved.

you stand in front of him, dangling the vibrator remote in his face. he fiddles with his fingers, unsure on what to say. at least you seemed happy?

“let’s see the mess you made.”

you slide him with his chair away from his desk, exposing his spread legs and like he thought, his crotch was wet with come. it was a terrible (and arousing) sight, there was a huge wet patch on his crotch and a small puddle on the wooden chair. he has never come this much before and you never overstimulated him this much either. all of this and you didn’t even touch or embrace him! you were so so so mean to him, and he felt tears fall again, his bunny eyes looking up at you in humiliation.

he was just so cute, you couldn’t help it. you wiped his tears with your sleeve, cooing at him.

“soobin, are you embarrassed?”

he nodded, beginning to whine as he sobbed more. embarrassed is an understatement, he felt so degraded. but it turned him on so much. he was starting to think he was masochistic, or maybe that’s just how downbad he was for you.

“you were so obedient, you want a reward? what reward do you want?”

you wipe each tear as it falls out, gently cradling his face. he pondered for a second, shaking his head.

“i don’t know…”

you chuckle, pulling him up and his legs shakes, you put his face in the crook of your neck and hugged his waist. he slumps over you and you rub his back. damn. this was comfortable, he never thought his bully would give a single shit about his feelings and you never thought you would ever comfort him.

why did you even bother to comfort him? it didn’t mean you tolerated him or anything. he was just cute that’s why you let him hug you, telling him he did a good job in his ear. there was no reason behind it, like how there was no reason behind you walking him back to your house, hand in his hand. (only because he was too jittery and wouldn’t stop shaking)

“lets go on a date tomorrow.” you deadpan. nothing behind those words, nope, nothing at all. just a reward for his good behaviour.

he looks at you with stupidly cute hopeful eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable squench in-between his thighs.

“you promise?”

“promise. you big baby.”

[david-talks-sw]

Debunking more myths in the GFFA: the Jedi and the clones.

I wrote a post debunking the various myths about how "the Jedi condone slavery", a while ago. Something I had omitted (because it's such a big topic) was the following two statements that concern the clone troopers' relations with the Jedi:

"The clones were genetically bred to have accelerated growth, so they're technically child soldiers."

"The clones were slaves of the Jedi."

Both the above statements are inaccurate, let's explore why. 

"The clones were child soldiers"

Let's get the easy one out of the way first, because it's a logic that cuts both ways. If age is our only determination of the maturity of a Star Wars character, then Grogu is not a baby. He is aged 50, and is thus a middle-aged man.

Who cruelly eats the babies of a woman...

... and knowingly tortures animals for his own sadistic pleasure.

Of course, I'm kidding. Grogu's none of the above things.

The narrative frames him as a cute baby who does innocent baby stuff. Him eating the eggs is played off as comedic, as is him lifting with the frog. To this day, some fans still call him "Baby Yoda".

Conversely, despite the clones being 10/14-years-old, their actions, behaviors, way of thinking, sense of humor, morals etc, are all those of an adult.

Like, Ahsoka is technically older than Rex in this scene.

The scene doesn't portray them as peers, though. This isn't written as "a teen and a tween talking". No, Rex looks, acts and behaves like a grown-up and is thus framed as such by the narrative.

You can make the argument "they're child soldiers", but (unless you're doing so in bad faith) you'd also have to argue that "Grogu's an adult".

"The clones were the Jedi's slaves"

Nope. For all intents and purposes, they're in the same boat as the Jedi, who George Lucas stated multiple times had been drafted to fight in the war.

Again: both the Jedi (monk/diplomats untrained for fighting on a battlefield) and clones (literally bred en masse only to fight) are being forced to fight by Palpatine and the Senate.

Though, on paper, the clones were commissioned by Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, it was actually done by the Sith (who either manipulated or assassinated Sifo-Dyas then stole his identity, depending on the continuity you choose to adhere to). The rest of the Jedi had no idea these clones were being created.

So while the clones are slaves... they're not owned by the Jedi.

They're the army of the Republic, they belong to the Senate. This isn't exactly a scoop, they refer to the clones as something to purchase...

... and manufacture.

As far as the Senate’s concerned, clones are property, like droids. 

Like there's a whole subplot in The Bad Batch about this very point: after the war, the clones are decommissioned and left out to dry because they literally have no rights, they served their purpose.

The only trooper to ever canonically blame the Jedi for the clones' enslavement is Slick, who the narrative frames as having been bribed and manipulated by Asajj Ventress into betraying his comrades.

Also, the only canonical Jedi shown to ever be mean, dismissive or mistreating the clones in any way, is Pong Krell.

And it's eventually revealed he’s in fact a full-on traitor, hence why the story frames him as an antagonistic dick from the moment he's introduced. He doesn’t represent the Jedi in any way.

We know this because the other Jedi we’ve been shown are always prioritizing their clones’ lives over theirs, if given the chance.

Finally, if we wanna get even more specific... as Commander-in-Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), the clones belong to Palpatine. 

Palpatine who is a Sith Lord. 

Palpatine who arranged for the creation of the clones and had them all injected with a chip that would activate upon hearing a code-word...

... and forced them to murder their Jedi without hesitation or remorse.

When you bear all that  ⬆️  in mind and when you read this quote by George Lucas...

"The Jedi won't lead droids. Their whole basis is connecting with the life force. They'd just say, 'That's not the way we operate. We don't function with non-life-forms.” So if there is to be a Republic army, it would have to be an army of humans."    - The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020  

... narratively-speaking, everything falls into place.

Sidious knows that:

If he orchestrates a war designed to thin the Jedi's numbers, corrupt their values and plunge the galaxy into chaos...

If he wants to draft the Jedi - peace-keeping diplomats who’d never willingly join the fray - to fight in his war...

... then the only way they won't resist the draft and abstain from fighting is if they think joining the conflict will save lives.

So he creates a set of cruel, sadistic villains for them to face, opponents who will target innocent civilians at every turn...

... and instead of lifeless droids, he prepares for the Jedi an army of men... living, mortal people who, despite being well-trained, will be completely out of their league when facing the likes of Dooku...

... Ventress...

... Grievous...

... Savage Opress...

... or the defoliator, a tank that annihilates organic matter.

Thus, in order to save as many clone and civilian lives, the Jedi join the fray despite knowing that doing so will corrupt their values. 

And as the war rages on, a bond of respect is formed between the two groups.

Clearly, the Jedi don't like the fact that the Republic is using the clones to fight a war, but for that matter, they don't like being in a war, in fact they advocated against it.

However, it's happening regardless of their issues with the idea or personal philosophies. Said The Clone Wars writer Henry Gilroy:

"I’d rather not get into the Jedi’s philosophical issues about an army of living beings created to fight, but the Jedi are in a tough spot themselves, being peacekeepers turned warriors trying to save the Republic."

And bear in mind, the Jedi are basically space psychics, the clones are living beings that they can individually feel in the Force... 

... so the Jedi feel every death but need to move on, regardless, only being able to mourn the troopers at the end of every battle.

We see this in the Legends continuity too, by the way.

(that is, when the writers actually try to engage with the narrative)

Also, if you ask the clones, they’re grateful the Jedi have their backs.

When Depa Billaba voices her concerns about how the war is impacting the Jedi's principles, troopers Grey and Styles are quick to make it clear how grateful they all are for the Jedi's involvement:

So the clones aren't the Jedi's slaves. If anything, they're both slaves of the Republic (considering how low the Jedi's status actually is in the hierarchy).

Only I'd argue the clones have it much, much worse. 

The Senate sees the Jedi as "ugh, the holier-than-thou space-monk lapdogs who work for us"... but a Jedi has the option to give up that responsibility. They can leave the Order, no fuss or stigma. 

A clone trooper cannot leave the GAR! If they do, they’re marked for treason and execution. Again, they’re not perceived as “people”.

And it doesn’t help that the Kaminoans, the clones’ very creators, see the troopers as products/units/merchandise. A notion that the Jedi are quick to correct whenever they get the chance.

How The Clone Wars writers describe the clones' relationship with the Jedi.

George Lucas hasn’t spoken much about this subject aside from the quote from further up. But to be fair... the Prequels aren’t about the clones’ dynamic with the Jedi, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t talk on that subject so much.

He did mention that part of The Clone Wars’ perks is that he could:

“Do stories about some of the individual clones and get to know them.”

But that’s as far as it gets. 

So for this part, I'm just gonna let Dave Filoni, showrunner of The Clone Wars and the upcoming series Ahsoka, and TCW writer Henry Gilroy - both of whom worked closely with Lucas - take the wheel. They make themselves pretty clear on how the clone/Jedi dynamic is meant to be viewed. 

Here’s Henry Gilroy:

"In my mind, the Jedi see the clones as individuals, living beings that have the same right to life as any other being, but understand that they have a job to do."

"The clones see the Jedi as their commanding officers on one hand, but also, at least subconsciously, they look to them for clues to social/moral behavior."    

"Some clones may find themselves getting philosophical leadership from the Jedi that helps them answer some of the deeper questions of life."    

"We thought this was a great opportunity to show how the Jedi interact with clones. Specifically, Yoda in a teaching role of the clones, who were socially new, who kind of grew up— who were created to fight, and he really broadened their horizons and helped them realize there was a great big universe out there that was bigger than just fighting and killing."    

And here’s Dave Filoni’s comments:

"I truly believe that the Jedi try to humanize their clones and make them more individual, as Henry says."    

"I think we saw that in Revenge of the Sith, when the Clones were colorful and named under the Jedi Generals, and then in the final shots of the film with Palpatine and Vader near the new Death Star, the ships are grey, the color and life is sucked out. The Stormtroopers are only numbers and identified by black and white armor or uniforms in A New Hope." 

"The soldiers have become disposable to the Emperor."    

"That is something the Jedi would never do."    

"Yoda teaching the clones much like he taught Luke. ‘Cause that was kind of natural for [the Jedi], a natural instinct to take to these clones like they’re students."    

None of the above quotes from two different writers of The Clone Wars, who had many interactions with George Lucas, frame the Jedi and the clones’ relationship in a negative way. 

How much more proof do we need that "the clones were slaves of the Jedi” isn’t the intended narrative?

My point being that while the clones' ordeal is indeed horrible, the Jedi have nothing to do with it. The narrative of The Clone Wars always frames it as the fault of the Sith, the Senate and the Kaminoans.

If you go by the intended narrative, the Jedi were the clones' teachers and brothers-in-arms. The clones and the Jedi were not just comrades.

They were friends.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 4

All You Ever

Azriel reflects on his past mistake including the night with Elain. Cassian makes a huge mistake.

A/N: Before reading this chapter please know that I am not condoning cheating or the actions of Azriel or Elain. I do not feel sorry for either of them in any way. I simply enjoy adding a little complexity to the story and selfishly love sprinkling in chaos. Also this is not proofread, I’m exhausted.

And for cauldron’s sake, please just trust the process before yelling at me!!! This is just one chapter from the two biggest idiots involved, not the whole story.

Part 3 Part 5

Warnings: Not proofread, Alcohol, Language, Unintentional ingestion of an aphrodisiac leading to sex

Azriel

He may have been a fucking idiot but Azriel’s self-awareness was painfully acute. His scar riddled hands were forever tainted with the essence of blood that even her plush lips couldn’t kiss away, his angel mate. What a cruel joke the cauldron had played the day that bond snapped between them. She was resplendent in sun shrouded glory and he was the devil who dragged her down. Just selfish enough to ignore the warning bells that he’d one day fuck it all up, just selfish enough to pull her away from her home and covet her within the walls of Velaris. In the beginning, he’d fought so hard to deserve her though she’d never asked him to. She wanted only him and knew he was unworthy of her, he always had been. It was exhausting - the mask. Constantly trying to hide from her that dark, sadistic side of him that was everything opposite of what she was.

She saw through it, of course. She always had. All she wanted was him, all of him. Begging him to show her beyond the good of him at surface level, she wanted all of his self-proclaimed bad too. She’d told him that dozens of times over the years but dropping that mask meant unpacking so much - so much more ugly than even he was prepared to reveal to himself.

At some point he began to resent her and he knew it wasn’t fair. He resented his perfect, pure, untainted mate. Wasn’t it ironic that she’d shown him everything beneath her own surface numerous times, unveiled that she herself was not the Angel he placed her on a pedestal as. She’d shown him everything and he still viewed her through that near-holy lense.

If only he could have put his stubbornness, his self-loathing aside and realized she would have done the same for him. It was too late for that now.

And now I'm without you, and it took distance to see that losing you, means losing everything

————

Something had been wrong for a while. He ignored it assuming that perhaps it was a mental blockade erected by a combination of fatigue and work tensions. He’d slowly distanced himself from his mate. He knew it hurt her, it hurt him too. His intentions were genuine, sparing her the pain of his own inner turmoil by distancing himself while he worked through it. He was simultaneously aware that he was a fucking bastard for doing so, she deserved an explanation but he couldn’t give it to her yet. He justified it as the lesser of two evils.

Unsurprisingly, the mating bond is a fickle thing. As he distanced himself, a chasm of emptiness opened within him that he’d desperately tried to fill with missions and various courtly duties. Training with the Valkyries helped, being there for Elain through her own struggles….

He took his duty to help her seriously, though it technically was not a duty even assigned to him. A distraction. It was a distraction. Ever the spymaster he spent their initial time together observing her, the things that brought a little bit of life back to those once bright eyes.

He’d sun his wings while she gardened and read across from her in the study, little things so she’d know she wasn’t alone. Eventually she began talking again. At first just a comment here or there but then there was communication, getting to know each other, small talk eventually becoming deeper topics. He learned of her resentment of the choice she felt was ripped from her, left with no time to mourn the loss of her mortal life or consider the implications on her relationship with Graysen because of it.

Not to mention the shock that one of the faces she blamed for being damned to the cauldron, one of the first faces she saw coming out of it was her mate and she was just supposed to accept it? Over time, Elain became a friend. A bright spot to the numbness created by the self-imposed gap between he and his mate. His mate….

It had taken some time to realize that he wasn’t feeling her through the bond, when was the last time he’d felt her? It was becoming fainter and fainter, more faint than it even should be with distance. He’d send feelings to her on occasion. A little spark of joy when he saw a lovely sunset or the moments when his desire for his mate heated his blood so thoroughly he had no choice but to excuse himself for relief by his hand.

He needed her to know he cared, he desired her, he loved her. A little time and space to collect everything he needed to bring to the surface, to give her all of him. He left her feeling like she wasn’t enough but she was everything. He just needed space.

Until she gave him space.

The devastation on her face the day she asked him to leave. Gods, damn him and the hurtful things he’d said. They’d be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his days along with the sound of her sobs as she fell apart before him. He’d done that to his mate. He was responsible for those tears. All because he’d been too selfish and prideful to share all of himself with her.

So, he left. She’d allowed him so much space, he could give her this.

I wish I could love you and make you believe it. It’s all you ever wanted from me

———-

The night with Elain

He couldn’t make it through dinner sober. Rhys insisted everyone get together at the River House for a friendly night of debauchery. Pouring himself a double shot of whiskey, he considered telling Cassian to send Rhys his regards and hole up in the house of wind for the remainder of the night. It was either, go to dinner and deal with all of the questions of “Where is y/n?” and “Why isn’t y/n here?” or deal with Cassian’s well-intentioned but annoying attempts of pressuring him into going, followed by a pout when he’d stand his ground on staying in, and then the inevitable intrusion from Rhys inquiring why he wouldn’t come to dinner.

He loved his chosen family dearly but they were busybodies through and through. All he wanted was to pass the time until he saw his mate tomorrow.

Begrudgingly he threw back his glass, poured another double, then headed to the River House.

Time moved slowly when all there was to do was dwell.

What had happened? He flew slowly to the River House. Going out of his way to circle far overhead of his true home, where his mate was. Was she waiting for him inside? Was she in town? Why couldn’t he feel her? Silence. Just as it had been for months. But the emotions he’d seen in her, they were so real. Shouldn’t they have sparked something in the bond?

As Azriel approached the River House he’d come to the conclusion that tonight he’d inform Elain he’d no longer be able to visit with her as he had been. He’d neglected his mate for far too long, this past week had given him the clarity needed to go home and give his mate his all. He could slowly open up to her, he could do it.

He just needed to make it through the night.

The night went by as usual. Good food, laughter, flowing liquor. He heavily indulged himself in the liquor anything to numb the impatience in waiting for tomorrow.

Feyre and Rhys sat closely together on a lounge, Feyre leaning into him, staring up at him like the stars in the sky.

Cassian and Nesta spent the entire time making bedroom eyes at one another, Cassian whispering dirty promises into Nesta’s ear that made even the queen of smut herself blush, Nesta taking any opportunity to brush her body against his in passing.

Gods, they were so in love it made him sick.

“Home.” He told himself.

“Soon.”

As the evening wound down, Cassian insisted everyone do shots to close out the evening. He was drunk enough that he stumbled carrying in the tray of shots and let out a battle cry of victory over the fact that he managed to not spill any of the liquor.

Azriel should have flown back to the House of Wind a while ago but he needed to talk to Elain.

Nuala and Cerridwen had been on duty with Nyx for the evening, compensated well to work overnight in case he awoke, giving Rhys and Feyre the now rare opportunity to go out to Rita’s. Mor, of course, drug Emerie along and went with them. Given that Amren would rather stick pins in her eyes than go out, she and Varian opted to go back to her place.

Azriel should have gone there, gone back to the River House, gone home and slept in the doorway until his mate let him in.

But he was so drunk. There was no way he was flying anywhere tonight.

Cassian and Nesta brought out a final round of shots. Elain winced, scrunching her nose as she threw it back. Azriel thought she’d be able to take her liquor better by now. Cassian and Nesta waggled their eyebrows suggestively at eachother before throwing theirs back. And damn, if Azriel didn’t wince when he took his shot too. That shit was awful. Had they drank through all of Rhysand’s good liquor? Did Cassian dig this out from the bottom shelf?

Once Cassian and Nesta left for the House of Wind, Azriel took the empty glasses to the kitchen, cleaning up a few of the remaining dishes throughout the seating area on the way. He barely made it into the kitchen before his head began spinning. That last shot had done him in. He couldn’t even remember the time last he’d been blackout drunk. Two centuries ago, maybe?

He still needed to find Elain.

The stairs felt longer and far less steady than usual, taking him more time than he cared to admit to make it up them. His hands felt tingly on the banister and damn, it was hot in the River House. No, he touched his face, flushed and hot to the touch. He was hot.

The tingling was simultaneously uncomfortable and pleasurable, spreading over his body with haste as he neared closer to Elain’s room.

He caught a glimpse of her and her scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Had she always smelled this good?

His breathing increased, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent and fuck - he was hard. It was too late to not say anything now as she stared at him expectantly. The stars in his vision cleared and all he could see was her, zeroed in on her fluttering pulse, those delicate features.

He needed to leave.

He just needed to - shit, what had he come here to say?

Azriel’s shadows whirled reminding him of his mate. His mate. He needed to go to his mate.

He needed to tell Elain something. He couldn’t think straight.

“Elain…”

And that was when she lunged at him.

Well is it too late, and are you too far to turn around and let me be

——————————

Elain

There was nothing the Cauldron loved more than Elain Archeron.

There was nothing the Cauldron hated more than Elain Archeron.

A thin line between the two, really.

She’d spend the rest of her life groveling for what conspired on that night. She never intended to sleep with him. She never, ever intended to hurt Y/N.

She remembered drinking more than usual.

She remembered Azriel finding her in the hallway.

She remembered a sudden rush of warmth, first from her chest, seeping outward through her extremities, low into her stomach and lower, lower.

She remembered Azriel having something important to tell her. She could feel nothing but heat. Her heart racing, breath becoming rapid.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his nostrils flaring. Like every single sense was hyper aware of her state. His arousal wafted through the air, his irresistible cedar and chilled mist scent clinging to her like an expensive cologne.

They were so very intoxicated.

They couldn’t do this. If she’d been sober and unaffected by whatever was running through her veins, she would have left. Immediately.

She wasn’t one to wreck a home and Azriel loved his mate so, so much. The way he talked about her, it made Elain jealous. Not of them, not of her. Only jealous that Elain herself had struggled so hard to feel anything toward her own mate for so long. Lucien who played a role in her loss of humanity, Lucien who would do anything to make it up to her, Lucien who never meant for it to happen, who tried so hard to help her, to connect with her, who wanted nothing more than to love her. Lucien.

Then why was it Azriel? Azriel who was standing in front of her clearly affected by her, trying his damndest not to be. Why was she so drawn to him? A mated male.

Was she sweating? It was so hot. Her breasts ached and her blood thrummed through her veins so voraciously that she was certain she’d bleed out at any minute. And if Azriel could see beneath her gown right now, he’d see how tightly her thighs were squeezed together. How desperately she needed release and by the tightness in his pants - she knew he was in the same state.

“Elain…” Azriel spoke. His breath ragged.

And all it took was her name rolling off of his lips for her to close the distance. One kiss. She just needed one kiss to remind herself that this was wrong. To run the other way.

And it only took one kiss to remind her how much the cauldron loved her. How much it hated her.

The moment when she felt the mating bond snap between her and Azriel.

The alcohol, the liquor, the heat, the bond. A lethal combination leading to the biggest mistake of her life.

The night she’d fucked Azriel.

She could never let him know about the bond.

—————————-

Elain woke up with a brutal headache. She would have killed for some headache power. Her room was dark, shadows deepening the onyx black of night as slivers of moonlight lined the edges of her curtains. Still nighttime, then.

Her surroundings slowly came into focus, awareness sharpening as a soft sound caught her attention. Swiftly she turned her head to find Azriel asleep on the other side of her bed.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no, no.

This couldn’t have happened.

What had she done?

She threw on her dress and tip-toed out of the room in a state of panic. She was a sensible female. She knew too well the pain of losing Graysen, a human male, not her spouse, not her mate. But still, his rejection had hurt like hell. Elain would never sleep with another woman- female’s mate. No.

She paced through the library, back and forth, back and forth, praying she didn’t wake anyone up. The walls were closing in on her. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

Oh gods.

And the mating bond. How?

Her chest was tight, she couldn’t catch a full breath. She needed out.

Before she could stop herself, Elain fled into the empty street with no destination in mind. Anywhere but here, anywhere but the bed where she’d likely obliterated a marriage. She’d certainly obliterated her dignity.

The starlight illuminated streets of Velaris were endless, winding through alleys and lanes. In her panicked state, Elain had no clue where her feet were taking her as she blindly followed her gut. It wasn’t until she was in front of the door that she realized her heart had made its choice. It knew exactly who to go to, she only prayed it wasn’t too late.

She took a shaky inhale and raised a hand to knock but the door flew open revealing a shirtless Lucien, his bare, muscled chest heaving. “I felt you coming.” He gasped. “Through the bond.”

—————-

Azriel

The sun’s rays illuminated the edge of the curtains. Azriel’s stomach was tight, nausea from the previous night’s alcohol overwhelming him. His bed felt colder than usual, more stiff.

He looked around to find that he’d never left the River House. He was…

He was in Elain’s room.

“Oh, fuck!” He sobbed to himself as the previous night came pouring back to him. Setting his face in his palms, he cried. What the fuck had he done?

Azriel bathed, desperately scrubbing Elain off of him. By the time he was through, his skin was an angry red. He snuck out of the River House, flying to a grassy knoll high above Velaris. The spot where he and Y/N had first made love, where the bond snapped, where he’d proposed. He shifted uncomfortably as he tried to get comfortable, the unease settling in. It was blasphemy to desecrate such a sacred spot with his shame.

“What do I do now?” He asked aloud, the only response the whipping of the wind around him. He didn’t understand what had overcome him. He’d never been so “effected” before, even in his drunkest moments. Once Elain’s lips met his, his brain had shut down, nothing else mattered but the feel of skin on skin. His body needed release and acted on pure primal instinct.

And now, he had a decision to make. He could go home and lay it all out, slightly easing the guilt of holding in his greatest sin while completely and utterly destroying his mate.

Or, he could go home. Show his mate all of the love that he had been withholding for too long now, sweep her off her feet, take care of her and start opening up. Give her his all, even the ugly parts that he kept so deeply hidden.

Gods, she’d given him so many chances and he’d let her down at every turn. There were no excuses for the way he had treated her.

All she’d ever wanted was him, all of him, including those sides he’d never wanted her to see.

Now he could only go home and love her. Love her with everything he had and pray she believed it.

———————-

6 months after Y/N left

Azriel looked in a hallway mirror on his way to Rhysand’s study. Dark circles hallowed out his under eyes. The drink he’d had prior to flying down here did nothing to numb the violent ache within his heart. Would it ever quell? Would this puncture wound ever heal?

It wouldn’t. And he didn’t know if he wanted it to. He was a bastard and deserved every ounce of this isolated misery. Trapped in a prison of his own making. The ache in his chest a constant reminder of the love he’d squandered. And for what? A meaningless night with a pretty female. Had he not had enough of those nights in his life?

Not that Elain would speak to him. Though she had apologized, countless times. It didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one to blame. Occasionally he’d catch Lucien’s assessing glare, an infuriating blend of contempt and pity etched into his features. Azriel didn’t know which he hated more, he didn’t deserve pity.

Azriel’s skin had sallowed. Had he ever been this pale before? And the bargain tattoo on his arm. Fuck, he hated it. After his third attempt to infiltrate the Summer Court, Rhysand gave Azriel the option of a cell in the Hewn City or a bargain.

Ironically the bargain served as a prison of its own. He was not allowed to go anywhere near the Summer Court or communicate with Y/N in any way. The only method of communication he was able to find a loophole with was the tugs on the bond. He’d pull and pull, nothing.

If only he could try to explain, apologize, anything.

Breaking his gaze from the shell of a male in the mirror, Azriel stepped toward the study.

Cassian’s booming laugh barreled through the cracked open door.

“Trust me, Feyre will love it. I’m sure you guys could use a little spark at the end of the day. You’ll be rolling in the sheets all night.”

Rhys only chuckled.

Cassian continued, “Tastes nasty as hell though. Here’s an extra vial, just in case. The first time Nes and I tried it, it didn’t work. Not sure why.”

Azriel let out a huff, stepping into the study. Cassian and Rhys ceasing their conversation in his presence. They’d been painstakingly obvious in not talking about their mates or anything relationship related in front of him since his mate had left. He refused to speak to anyone about why she left, too embarrassed to admit to this bed of his own making. They knew it was his fault and that was all that mattered.

Azriel scowled. “You don’t have to stop talking about your mates just because I’m around.”

Cassian awkwardly raised his arm, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry brother. We just don’t want to make things harder for you than they have been.”

“Considerate.” Azriel sneered, jerking his head toward the vials. “What are those anyway?”

Cassian smirked, “Oh, just some aphrodisiac potions from a new apothecary in Velaris. Really powerful shit. Nes and I-“ Rhys elbowed Cassian. A warning to not take the conversation too far. They could talk of their happy relationships without absolutely rubbing Azriel’s face in it.

Cassian quieted for a moment before continuing. “It tastes gods awful but the payoff is totally worth it. Remember those shots we took after everyone left dinner several months ago? We mixed it into Nes and I’s glasses and didn’t notice the taste. Didn’t work either though. Must’ve been a dud. Lady at the shop gave us a replacement vial the next time we were in and…. well, let’s just say we keep it in stock at the House of Wind now.”

Azriel went preternaturally still. His shadows growing angry as he ground out, “The night you two did a parting shot with me and Elain?”

“Uh…… yeah?” Cassian replied.

And before Cassian could realize what he’d done, Azriel pummeled him. Hauling him out the study doors and onto the lawn, not even making it to the sparring ring before his fists met Cassian’s face - the two Illyrians disappearing into a frenzy of fists and feet and glowing siphons.

The only sound over the impact of their hits and feral growls was Cassian’s confused, booming voice. “What the FUCK, Az!?”

————————————————

A/N: I am sorry for giving you an entire chapter of Azriel and Elain content but I will make it up to you with fluffy Eris and reader content in the next chapter!!!

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime

[lordprettyflackotara]

holding the gun || hoodie/brian thomas

smut minors dni 18+. tw: this is like a hella diff a/u, you have a split personality named ski who like technically IS you, breath play, humiliation, choking, you’re mean to tim #sorrytimily

Your love for Brian Thomas was infinite.

And when Hoodie began to make appearances, your love became infinite for him too.

The Operator only wanted Tim and Brian. You couldn’t quite understand the reasoning. Why them? Why not Alex? Or quite literally anyone else? For whatever reason, he chose them. However, Tim was more of a fighter than Brian was. He sought help after seeing the Operator for the first time. And for now, he was free. The Operator was not happy that Tim had escaped his grasp. The medication Tim had been prescribed had been keeping him at bay.

Brian’s mind was easier to corrupt, his once sickening desires that lurked in the darkest crevices of his mind having now created an alter. The kind who was a merciless sadist. One that wore a ski mask with red stitched in sorrowful eyes and a frown. Hoodie. However, the Operator found you to be quite useful. Your loyalty to Brian, to the extremes of trying to protect him from the Operator himself, was admirable. It’s what led him to capture you too, scrambling your brain and turning your sanity to mush. His corruption led to the creation of another alter, one that fed off of masochism and Hoodie’s commands.

That alter’s name was Ski. And that alter belonged to you. Or better said, that alter became you.

The Operator found your dynamic with Hoodie to be fascinating. Even after he had drained Brian’s sanity, along with yours, the love you both had for each other had transferred over into what you were now. Your loyalty to Hoodie was unwavering. The more as time went on, the Operator realized his use for you. He only really needed Hoodie to survive. Your survival was a mere afterthought. You’d take a bullet for him, even if he was the one holding the gun.

You crouched down outside of Tim’s house, Hoodie leading the way. It was important to not be spotted by his neighbors, as to not create attention. The Operator was very clear in his instructions. He wanted Tim alive, he just wanted the medication. You blew a low whistle, signaling to Hoodie you believed the window to be unlocked. He stopped in his tracks, turning to you. Cautiously you peaked into the window, Tim asleep in his bed. You gave Hoodie an affirmative nod, your hand sliding into your pocket. You pulled out and flicked out the switchblade, carving away the screen that lined Tim’s window.

Hoodie crouched beside you, keeping an eye out for any possible witnesses. Your eyes stayed centered on Tim, this body unmoving as he slept soundly. Once the screen was cut you discarded it, pushing the window upwards. A small blast of cool air hit you, Tim’s air conditioning being exercised to the fullest. You silently slid inside, your stealth one of the best attributes that had been produced from the creation of Ski. Nimbly you landed on your feet, cocking your head to signal Hoodie to follow you. Hoodie was more quiet, his sadistic tendencies kept under wraps a majority of the time.

They only made a real appearance during an actual slaughtering or in the depths of his mind. Once the two of you were inside you took opposite sides of the room, quietly rummaging through Tim’s dresser. After observing him from the sidelines for weeks, you were well aware he was becoming paranoid. He hid his medications in different areas everyday, the paranoia of the Operator taking them making him overprotective of the one thing that kept him at bay. But what Tim hadn’t accounted for, was you and Brian. Maybe Brian, his best friend’s disappearance having not gone unnoticed.

But he never would’ve guessed his best friend would ever be possessed to do such a thing.

You sorted through Tim’s belongings, pushing his useless miscellaneous junk aside. You could hear Hoodie doing the same, searching the brunettes closet. You moved a pair of folded jeans aside, the faintest sound of rattling hitting your ears. You grinned devilishly to yourself as you pulled out the jeans, the prescription bottle in plain sight. You blew a low whistle, holding up the bottle to show Hoodie your finding. Hoodie briefly lifted up his mask to show you his proud smile, the two of you slowly creeping out of the room.

Hoodie signaled for you to go first. You nodded, hopping out of the window. As you landed the pills rattled loudly in the bottle, a sound Tim had trained his ears to become accustomed to. Tim shot up out of bed, immediately trying to grab Hoodie. “Shit!” You muttered, tossing the pill bottle onto the ground. You went to lift yourself into the window, Tim putting Hoodie in a strong headlock. “Hoodie!” You mumbled, hoisting yourself up and inside of the window. Tim was dragging him backwards, choking him. You could hear Hoodie’s cracked breaths, your body springing into action.

If it were up to you, you would’ve snapped Tim’s neck. Hoodie elbowed him in the gut, a loud ‘oof’ escaping Tim’s lips. Hoodie stumbled forwards, giving you the perfect chance to intervene. You couldn’t control yourself, your fingers curled into a fist. That fist connected with Tim’s jaw, a loud crack flooding your ears. Tim stumbled backwards onto his bed, drops of blood dripping from his mouth. “Go go go,” Hoodie said, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you towards the window. You jumped out, relieved as Hoodie followed you. You scrambled to grab the fallen pill bottle, the two of you jumping the fence and darting into the woods.

You had a getaway car previously planned and you couldn’t get into it fast enough. You slid into the passengers seat, Hoodie quick to throw the car into drive and speed off. With the roar of the engine you gave your lover a smile. “We did it. We now have a few days off!” You say cheerfully. Hoodie remained still, his eyes glued to the road. “What you did was completely reckless,” Hoodie spat harshly. You blinked, taken aback by his anger. “I didn’t kill him! I just punched him!” You argued. Hoodie yanked off his mask, throwing it onto the dashboard, “You broke his jaw! Do you think the Operator is going to be happy?”

His foot pressed on the gas pedal, only making the car zoom faster down the dirt road. “He didn’t mention anything about hurting him! Besides he was hurting you!” You fired back. Hoodie gritted his teeth, his gloved hands gripping the wheel. “I had it under control! I don’t need you intervening Ski!” He hissed. You threw off your ski mask, throwing at his head. “Oh yeah? You don’t want me intervening? Go find another fucking partner then!” You hissed. Your fingers wrapped around the door handle, itching to open the car door. Hoodie noticed this, slamming on his brakes. Your head flew forward, smacking the dashboard.

Hoodie threw the car into park, his gaze darkening. “Backseat, now,” He huffed. You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins, a few drops of blood trailing down your nose. “Suck my dick,” You chuckled weakly. Hoodie grabbed you, man handling you into the backseat of the car. You couldn’t help but feel aroused, this being the usual routine for you and Hoodie. Both of you were aggressive and angry, the two a foul combination when it came to the two of you. Hoodie pinned you to the backseat, smashing his lips into yours. “You’re fucking insane,” He huffed, his hands roaming your body. There wouldn’t be much time for this when you both got back, Jeff surely dying to be off of babysitting duty.

Toby typically was yours and Hoodie’s responsibility to train, but the Operator was kind enough to send both of you on a mission for once. “You like it though,” You panted, your hands fiddling with his belt. Hoodie smirked against your lips as his hands slide up your shirt, squeezing at your breast. You both knew you didn’t have much time, but the idea of being fucked senseless seemed worth tolerating Jeff’s wrath. You pulled down his jeans, palming his cock through his pants. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips against you.

“If you ever jeopardize a mission like that again, there are going to be repercussions,” Hoodie grunted, pulling at your own jeans. You lifted your hips, helping him tug them down to your ankles. “Oh yeah? So punish me then,” You threatened, giving him a mischievous smirk. Hoodie grinned back at you, tossing your jeans onto the floorboard. He dove in between your thighs, his breath hot as it fanned against your folds. “Go on, touch yourself,” He ordered. You felt your face flush pink, your core throbbing as he hovered over your drenched cunt. “But you’re right there-” You began to argue.

Hoodie raised his eyebrows, curiously wrapping his arms around your thighs. “Do you want to cum or not? I’d be just fine driving us home,” He huffed. You bit your bottom lip, shyly pulling your panties to the side. You didn’t know why you were so embarrassed. It wasn’t like Hoodie and/or Brian hadn’t seen you exposed like this before. But his face being inches from your core, his dark gaze watching you, made you more humiliated and aroused. You brought two fingers to your clit, circling it quickly. Hoodie grabbed your hand, stopping you right in your tracks. “Did I say you could go fast?” He asked sternly. You shook your head no, your breath hitching as he repositioned himself. He slid off one of his gloves, hovering on top of you.

“Wanna cum so badly? Fine,” Hoodie muttered. In a flash he shoved two of his thick fingers into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips. You whimpered as he curled them inside of you, finger fucking you without a care in the world. Your noises were sinful, Hoodie’s spare gloved hand putting itself over your mouth. “Wouldn’t want Tim to find us would we? You and that pathetic mouth of yours,” Hoodie grumbled. The lack of oxygen was making your head spin, his fingers mercilessly brushing against your g spot. He felt your walls squeeze him tighter at the sound of Tim’s name.

“Oh I see. You want Tim to see you? To see you all fucked out for me?” Hoodie chuckled darkly. You whimpered into his glove, your eyes widened as he circled your clit with his thumb. You could feel the cord inside of you tightening, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with Hoodie as he destroyed your cunt with his fingers. “You’re a whore who likes to be watched huh? Maybe next time i’ll record it and send it to him. You can put on a real show,” Hoodie purred. Your hips were practically grinding against his hand, your orgasm approaching quickly.

Your warning was muffled under his glove, your lover more than aware of your oncoming orgasm. “There we go. Such a good whore for me. Go, cum. Cum thinking of Tim watching you, you fucking slut,” Hoodie spat. With his words your orgasm crashed over you, your thighs trembling as Hoodie’s fingers finally slowed down. He quickly shoved down his boxers, guiding your body to reposition you. “We don’t have much longer before they come looking,” Hoodie murmured. You straddled him, still dazed as you held your cunt over his achingly hard cock.

You sank down onto his shaft, the two of you moaning in unison. “I wanted to tell you, you punching Tim in the face was pretty hot,” Hoodie said, rolling his hips upwards into yours. You gasped as he hit your g spot, lifting yourself and slamming back down on his cock again. “Yeah? You’re such a filthy sadist,” You panted, grinding your hips against his. With each roll you felt your mind slipping away, all worries of the Operator or anything else disappearing. “You love it though, don’t pretend that you don’t,” Hoodie grinned evilly. He gripped your throat, squeezing the sides. You moaned loudly, Hoodie’s thrust matching yours as you rode him.

Your hands grabbed handfuls of his sweatshirt, his hand squeezing your throat tighter with each bounce. “You’re so pretty like this,” Hoodie murmured. He said it so low you almost didn’t hear him, your vision becoming spotty as he released your neck. You leaned forward, smashing your lips against his as his large hands took control of your waist. He held you into place, thrusting upwards into your cunt. Your sinful noises were uncontrollable, the sounds swallowed by Hoodie’s eager lips. He grabbed your ass, harshly squeezing the flesh and guiding it to bounce up and down his cock.

“Fucking- shit,” Hoodie grunted, trying to match the pace of your sloppy kisses. You slithered one hand down to your clit, rubbing fast circles around the sensitive bud. “That’s it, be a good girl and get off on my cock. Such a good obedient little thing,” Hoodie snickered. He brought his hand to your face, dragging your bottom lip downwards ever so slowly. He maintained eye contact with you, the cord inside of you threatening to snap.

“Cum.”

His command sent you over the edge, Hoodie’s words always having the true control over you. Your body shook as you came, your vision becoming blurry and heart racing. Hoodie quickly pulling you off of him, laying you on your back. “Open your mouth,” He grunted, pumping his shaft above your face. You rolled out your tongue, your lover above you moaning your name as he came in your mouth. His salty seed danced along your tastebuds, satisfaction spreading across his face as you swallowed every last drop.

He panted as he fell back onto the seat, both of you struggling to catch your breaths. “Hey Ski?” Hoodie asked. You swallowed, dazed as you sat up. “Yeah?” You replied. Hoodie grinned as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

“You wanna piss Jeff off and fuck again?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

[carolmunson]

fixin' dinner. (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

back again with a mean sadist!eddie (also technically mechanic!eddie) and his hot masochist gf. let's explore the one time they played 'mean 50s husband and hot 50s housewife who can't get her shit together.

warnings include: smut, minors dni. established dom/sub sadist/masochist relationship, all aspects of the scene being written are consented to between these fictional parties, belting, spanking with belt, general threats, degradation, humiliation, emotional sadism, physical sadism, mean names (bitch), pet names (baby, honey, darling, etc.), face slapping, slight breeding kink, p in v sex (unprotected), teasing, rough sex, food mention, the works. eddie is MEAN in this, as a reminder. this doesn't feature aftercare but it sort of doesn't need it in a way. ---

When the phone rings in the trailer, you know it's him.

"Hi," you chirp.

"Hi sweet thing," his voice is warm and crackly, tired. Like it was this morning when you woke him up for breakfast.

"What's goin' on, you okay? Staying late?" you ask, leaning against the wall in the kitchen.

"No, babe, I'm about to leave -- just wanted to know if dinner was gonna be ready by the time I got home," he smirks when he asks, your eyes linger at front door's frame -- his leather belt hung on a nail next to it. You gulped.

"Uh, um..." you stammer, heart starting to pound.

"You better hope dinner's ready by the time I get in the door," his voice is menacing, "Or you're gonna be in for a world'a hurt, you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," your mouth runs dry but your lower half can't say the same. He'd brought up this scenario weeks ago -- 'Like those 50s housewives baby, how their husbands would get home from work and they burned dinner. We could do it like that? You were just saying how I haven't used my belt in a while. It could be fun, huh?'

He ran you through it this morning, going through your normal 'do you trust me?' routine before he left for work so you didn't have to do it before starting. 'If you decide you don't wanna play anymore, just say 'I ordered pizza' when I ask if dinner's gonna be ready, okay? I love you either way. Gonna fuck you on that counter either way, too.'

He was insatiable.

"Don't disappoint me," his voice takes on darkness so easily. You bite your lip to hold back the whimper in your throat.

"I won't," you whisper, "I promise."

"See you in twenty," he says, "Love you." He hangs up before you can tell him you love him, too. Eager. You take the time you have to freshen up before her arrives -- you had already burnt dinner, it sat on the stove blackened and crisped on purpose. He'll love the extra effort you put in to make it authentic.

The green tinged light of the bathroom mirror isn't doing you any favors, but you glide on some Dr. Pepper lip smackers and a little blush for good measure. Pouty and flushed, just how he liked it.

You put on a flouncy dress with flutter sleeves, the kind of dress that buttons all down the middle. Frabric that flounces with you when you walk, hitting just above your knee. A spare apron from an old French maid costume completed the look along with a pair of fake pearl earrings, and heels that made Eddie fall to his knees. You smoothed over the apron, hearing his van pull in noisily, the slam of the driver side door. Normally you're so ready for these interactions, for his harshness, for his angry stare. Today felt different, you were in the headspace, you were a little afraid.

It was exciting.

You plaster on a smile when he comes through the door. His grin meets yours, and so does the scent of gasoline and oil blended together with his sweat. His hair is tied back today, tendrils and bangs crowding his face, showing off his jaw -- the stubble left on it from this morning.

"There's my girl," he's gruff, pulling you by the waist to kiss you -- it's passionate, like he hadn't seen you in years.

"Hi honey," you flush, trying your hardest to stay in character and not just bend over the couch, "Good day at work?" "Better when I know I have you to come home to," he smiles and winks, taking off his work shirt all the while revealing his oil stained wife beater and the two silver chains he wore around his neck. His steps are broad and deliberate on his way to the kitchen, scraping one of the metal chairs away from the table before collapsing into it like a brute.

"Get me a beer, sweet thing," he demands, tutting while you get one from the fridge with dainty and graceful movements -- his pretty little thing, "Shouldn't have to ask you, should just have it when I come in." "Sorry, dear," you respond, watching him open the bottle on the edge of the table. He takes a swig, licking his lips while he looks you over.

Please just fuck me, you're so hot right now, you try to send him the message telepathically but he's not getting it.

"It's okay," he says, taking another sip and setting the beer down, "What's for dinner, angel?"

Your eyebrows raise, but you shake the fear off, forcing another smile, "Darling, I'm so sorry. I accidentally burned dinner. I can make something else if you'd like! Anything you want!"

"So dinner isn't ready?" he asks, surprised.

"It...well, it was. It burned," your voice was meek, he salivated over it.

"So you burned dinner?" his brows furrowed, standing up slowly from the kitchen chair.

"You burned dinner?" he asked again, his face stained in anger, "Am I hearing you right?"

"Baby, I'm sorry -- I was just trying to get it done on time and the oven was on too high. I'm sorry," your lower lip wobbles, he rolls his eyes before they end up in a hard glare down at you. "I work all fuckin' day, every day, to keep a roof over your head," he takes a step forward while you step back, "I break my fuckin' back so you don't have to lift a fuckin' finger. And you can't even manage to make me fuckin' dinner?"

"I...I did -- it just -- it burned -- I'm -- " you sputtered, taking careful steps while backing away from him. You shook in your heels, his eyes menacing and shining with rage.

"So what is it, huh? You too stupid? Too lazy?" he spits while he stomps forward in his combat boots, the floor shaking while he cracks an open palm hard against your cheek, "You a fuckin' idiot, is that it?"

The force sends you reeling, hands immediately reaching for your stinging face -- certain there'd be a mark left behind later. Tears prick your eyes but you don't want to cry yet, opting to swallow the air pocket flying up from your chest -- desperate to steady your breathing.

"No, I -- it was an accident," your back hits the wall and he takes a deep breath through his nose, letting it out the same way like a bull ready to strike. You can feel a pulse in your cheek where he hit you, the places where his rings hit starting to swell. You make a run for it, checking his shoulder while you do, smearing oil on your dress's flutter sleeve.

"Oh, no, no, no," he taunts, turning at his waist and catching your forearm in a vice grip to pull you back to him, "Don't you run away from me when I'm talking to you."

"Don't you have any manners?" he asks, slamming you against the wall to cage you in with a hand resting by your shoulders. You nod, tears pouring hot down your cheeks, mascara streaking over your rouge.

"Answer me!" he growls, you wince -- your eyes shut tight.

"I h-have manners," you stammer out, eyes still closed.

"Look at me," he huffs, "You know better." You do know better than to not look at him when he's speaking but you just can't. You hang your head instead.

"Oh, you don't wanna listen? Go get my belt," he sighs, pushing his curly bangs away from his forhead, "Gonna have to teach you, aren't I?" "No, I -- please no," you plead, eyes popping open, but it gets you nothing but fingers digging into your jaw.

"If I hear another sound come outta that mouth that isn't you cryin' and apologizing to me, m'gonna make you sleep outside in the van," his threat feels real and your heart hammers, "Do I make myself clear?" "Cr-crystal," you nod. "Now," he mutters through gritted teeth, peering down at you with his jaw forward, "Go. Get. My. Belt."

You sulk, walking the short distance to where his belt hung by the doorframe -- a reminder every time you left his trailer, best behavior. You lift it off, running the length through your hands -- thick and wide, he never wore it, it was only for play.

"You think I got all day?" he calls. You shuffle into the kitchen, your heels scraping against the linoleum leaving scuff marks in their wake.

"And you've been leaving marks all over my floor," he spits, wrenching the belt out of your hand and wrapping some of the length around his knuckles. He shoves you roughly over the kitchen table where you obediently assume your position, shoulders shuddering while you lift your dress up.

Eddie takes the casserole dish with the charred dinner and tosses it in front of you, "Baby, I don't like having to do this, you gotta stop giving me reasons to. What is it, huh? You gotta go back to school and take home ec or somethin'?"

"No, sir," you barely squeak out.

"Like I said earlier," he says gruffly, bringing the belt down hard across your ass, "You're in for a world'a hurt, tonight." It doesn't help that you like the belt. You like how he looks in the kitchen light while the shadows from the florecents enhance the muscles in his arms. His sneer when he rears his arm back, his smile -- almost relief when he hears the loud crack of the leather hitting your skin. Your release and his.

The act happens in slow motion, your heart beat in your ears while he brings the belt down on you again. You falter in your heels a little, your knees buckling a bit at the force.

"Get up and take it," he harshly demads, "Get that ass back up."

"Yes, sir," you whisper, fixing your posture. He sounds like he's underwater, your eyes start to glaze over outside of the tears. His belt meets your thighs, your sit points. He always took extra measure on those so he could watch you wince and whine later on a hard chair or in the van. The burn and sizzle on your backside started earlier than normal, but he wasn't starting off light. With his belt, he never did.

"Always gotta.." thwap, "..tell the guys.." thwap, "..what a fuckin'.." thwap, "..disappointment you are." THWAP. You can't help but start crying out, trying to muffle it with your hand so the neighbors don't start asking questions. You're standing on your toes in your heels to meet the intensity of his whips on your backside.

"And they always say.." thwap, "..just gotta.." thwap, "..show her whose boss.." THWAP.

"But you know who the boss is, don't you baby?" he coos while you cry into the hand covering your mouth. Body stinging and burning.

"Yes, sir," you whimper.

"Whose the boss, hm?" he asks, his hand smoothing over your back. "You're the boss," you sniffle, putting both hands back down on the table. "That's right, baby," he says back, his voice back to soothing honey, "That's a good girl."

"You need some more?" he asks gently.

"Please," you breathe out, "I need t-to learn my p-place."

"Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, your eyes peer down to see the perfect outline of hard cock against his dark wash jeans. His hand gripping the belt tight, veins pulsing from his hand up his forearm -- his tattoos dancing with them. He'd been thinking about this all day.

"Say it again," his voice his ragged while he brings the belt back down on you. "I need to l-learn my place, s-sir," you repeat, wincing while he continues, blow after blow. Your skin was raw, the cooling end of summer air outside doing nothing to soothe you through the screens of the open windows.

"Yeah you do," he says to himself, grunting with each come down of the leather. He bit his lip at the jump in your hips, watching you start to get weak under the repeated smacks, your knees buckling more often -- fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Eddie drops the belt with a clang and you jump to attention, turning around to face him.

"I'm sorry baby, I -- I can't," Eddie starts, "I'm callin' it I gotta -- oh fuck, I gotta fuck you right now."

You nod, ugh finally, taking a step toward the hall to get to the bedroom but his hands come up to roughly shove you back on the table -- beer bottle and casserole falling to the ground, shattered glass and mess to be dealt with later.

"This fuckin' body -- this dress? You know what you're doin' to me, don't you," he smirks, shoving your dress up to your waist and pushing your thighs up against your chest.

"That's why you wore these heels, hm?" he grabs your ankle, leaving a sloppy kiss on your calf, "Wanted to make me bust in my fuckin' work jeans?"

You giggle, his stained hands leaving oil marks on your legs. The same fingers undoing the buttons on your dress with nimble finesse.

"I could just rip it but I like this on you," his mumbles, "Don't wanna ruin it."

You simply nod, wanting to say 'thank you,' or 'appreciate it', but your tongue is too big for you mouth. You feel stupid and faded, just wanting to feel his touch and hear the low roll of his voice. He unbuttoned until your lace enclaved chest was full exposed, eyes feasting on you laying on the table for him -- way better than dinner.

Eddie works quickly on his jeans, the stiff fabric being shoved hard down to his thighs, his boxers coming down just enough for his balls to hang down over the band before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He pushes in with ease, slick so intense that it had already started moving down your thighs, shining in the light. His face relaxes, head falling back while he gets a rhythm going hands finding the smallest part of your waist for leverage.

"Oh shit, baby," he grunts, head falling back forward, hair falling out of the elastic and crowding his face, "Fuckin' -- nnmff -- needed this."

You gasp at his pace. No matter how wet or how ready you were it was always just a little too big -- stretching you in just the right way. Even when he was loving you he was punishing you with the size of his cock -- a little reminder every time, pain always reaps pleasure.

His picks up one of your hands and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently, warm brown eyes meeting yours. You feel the warmth before you realize that your three fingers are in his mouth, soaking them in spit before guiding them to your clit.

"Show me," he moans, "Make yourself feel good for me."

"You're already -mm!- making me feel good," you smile, slowly rubbing circles over your clit. His eyes nearly get stuck rolling back in his head at the sight, biting his lip while he drives harder into you. Eddie grunts, bending at the waist and caging you in on the table, hands finding you hair.

"Kiss me," he breathes, his mouth hot and wet on yours. His thrusts quicken while he chases his orgasm, the feeling of your hand working between you making his cock twitch. Eddie's brows furrow while he deepens his kiss, groaning hard into your mouth when your tongue brushes his.

"So fuckin' good, sweet thing," he whispers against your lips, "You're so good."

His plush lips crash into yours again while he pulls your hand from between them, "Can feel you gettin' close, you close?"

You nod feverishly, the tight binding in your belly getting tighter with each thrust of his cock between your thighs. He pushes up, back to standing over you, a glob of spit sent falling between your legs onto your clit -- making you jolt. Eddie's thumb works like magic over your, your thighs twitching with the sensation of his rough but lubricated finger pad and the stretch of his cock pumping in and out of you.

"Oh you're gonna cum, huh?" he nods while he asks, and you nod to answer.

"Yeah, you gonna cum for me?" he mocks. His eyebrows raise while you bite your lip, hips moving back and forth to fuck back on him, "You gonna be a good girl and cum?"

"Y-YES, sir," you cry out, your pussy spasming over him, thighs snapping tight together over his wrist -- just making it tighter over his dick still fucking you relentlessly. He coaxes you through it, praising you over and over, "Oh, good girl. That's my girl. That's it. Love when you moan for me like that..."

"Fuck, FUCK, Ed, Eddie," you whimper while he continues.

"Almost th-there, angel," he grunts, fucking into you with fervor.

"W-wanna cum inside," he says, but you know he's asking for permission. You nod at him, breathy 'it's okay..s'kay..'s pouring out of your mouth as your second orgasm builds in your tummy.

"Yeah?" he asks, cocky grin building while he leans in again to press flush against you, "Want me to c-cum inside you?" "Make you my little housewife f-foreal?" he dips his head to your neck, sucking and biting until you bruise, "Get you knocked up and st-stuck here?"

"Yes, yes, Eddie -- wanna be your -- ah, shit, shit," you whine, the second orgasm comes on quicker and harder than the first, your nails digging into his tank top and exposed flesh.

"Gonna make you my pr-pretty fuckin' housewife -- fuck, oh fuck, shit," he groans in your ear, nipping at your earlobe hard enough that you yelp. You can feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you, it stings in a good way, warming you from the inside out -- biting at the stretched skin while it oozes out of you.

When Eddie comes to, he leans up on his forearms, pressing a kiss against your lips. His eyes meet yours, gentle and heavy lidded, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you smile, offering a second peck. The pain settles in on your thighs and ass, you almost forgot you'd been belted.

"S'starting to hurt, honey," you confess quietly.

"I know, m'sorry," he mumbles, he kisses your cheek, then your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, "You need help in the shower? I was gonna clean up in here."

"I'm okay," you smirk, "You've done way worse damage before."

He gets up, rolling his eyes playfully, "Don't tempt me."

You sit up slowly on the kitchen table, which had shifted so much it was almost entirely against fridge. After Eddie pulls up his boxers and jeans, he helps take off your heels and hoists you down so you don't have to slide off the edge.

"Be careful of the glass, please," he warns, setting you down on the ground. You tip toe to the bathroom, hearing him sigh as he gets to his knees to clean up -- your sweet little domestic boy.

"Hey, c'mere, before you go get cleaned up," he calls out. You pad back to the kitchenette, stopping just before the linoleum. From the floor he turns back to you, "What do you want on your pizza? I'm gonna put in an order when I'm done cleaning up."

"Just cheese for me is fine, but I'm not picky. Get whatever you want," you shrug.

"I'm getting anchovies," he says.

"Anything but anchovies," you say, annoyed.

"That's why you shouldn't say get whatever you want if that's not what you mean," he smiles, "Just saying."

"Why don't you do one cheese and one meat lovers since that's what we always get?" you suggest.

He considers it, for a minute, "I think I'm gonna get three pies babe, I'm fuckin' starving."

[onyx-syn]

Halfway through the workings of a fic (technically two)

But in the mean time

Take this- Buggy being given a blow job cause he's a subby dom in my mind

18+ only. Minors be gone

Waves crash against the ship lightly, making the ship rock back and forth in the darkness of night. The moonlight shimmered down on the waves of the sea, the lights of Buggy's ships illuminating the deck onboard.

In the quarters of the ship, a lantern lit from the corner of the bedroom. As well as two occupants having their nice time on the hanging bed.

Buggy laying on his back on the bed, his trousers down to his mid thigh leaving his cock and balls out in the warm air of his room. He tried to relax in his new position, making a nice hum sound as you pressed light kisses on his hard redden tip.

Buggy's cock was a delight to see in your eyes. He wasn't too big and he wasn't too small, he was a nice size and was quite girthy. Much more of a shower than a grower, but the 'genius jester' himself knew how to use it.

A low sadistic hiss leaves Buggy's lips as he feels the wetness of your saliva coat the tip of his cock. His watercolor eyes watching as it drips down his sides.

Buggy leans his head on each side of his shoulder, his way of holding back a moan, feeling your hand grip his cock, greeted by your saliva. He leans his head back, cursing aloud as he feels your hand move up and down, slowly but surely, coating his cock more and more with your saliva.

"F-Fuck" he whispers, closing his eyes. Had his makeup not been applied so often on his face, a hint of a red dusky blush would be on his cheeks.

Buggy prided himself as a Dom much often, trying to boost his ego of how dominant he was in bed and how he could get his way easily. Which wasn't false, but not entirely true either.

He thrived off of being a receiver. Deep down wanting nothing more but to be loved and praised in bed like the good boy he was. grace by the touch of your hand stroking his length, speeding up the process creating immense wet sounds throughout the room.

He leans his head forward slowly, his thighs slightly jiggling from the stroking. He opens his eyes slightly, taking in the sight of you, his beautiful partner on their knees, bare and naked, holding his length in your hand stroking. Your other hand gripped on his thigh, pressing your lips on his bare thigh which sent a shock wave up his spine. He didn't know he needed that.

As much as buggy loved the attention, he wasn't all that easy to give in.

"ooh fuck, damnit. Shit okay. Nnn! Ugh" he kept cursing, getting his teeth a bit, almost whining at the sudden change of past of your stroking. You sped up the process, which sent a tingling sensation to his stomach, building up pressure.

Buggy could feel himself closing in on his release. His gloved hands gripped the sheets of your guy's bed tightly, trying to keep himself composed of the situation. Sweat tears were sliding down the sides of his face, smearing just a smidge of his makeup.

He thought he could make it through, not giving in so easily to you.

But God you made it so hard to do so.

All hope of him not giving into was lost once your lips hovered over his tip. Buggy nodded his head slightly, lips parting and his eyes becoming half lidded.

"please baby- pl-" he stopped himself midway, shaking his head. "No goddam- FUCK! YOU- hmmm~"

His words were cut off as he felt your tongue, starting off at the base of his girthy cock before licking a long stride up the underline of his cock -where a long vein was placed at- to the tip of his cock, coating it.

You could feel Buggy's thigh start to quiver under your touch, bringing a smile to your cheeks.

"is my boy feeling too good~?" You question him, smirking as your lips go back hovering over his tip, slowing down your stroking.

You could hear an annoyed whine under Buggy's breath. His hand reaches down and grips the back of your neck. He so desperately wanted to grip harder, pushing your head down on his cock, taking him all in as you began to choke on him, begging for him to fuck you.

But instead, his eyes gazed down to his cock and back at you, looking a bit embarrassed, his chest rising and falling every few seconds with how intense of heat he was feeling.

"plea.... hmmm" Buggy tried to speak, looking away still.

You giggle, slowly stroking still as your lips got closer and closer to his tip, to the point where your lips were right against the soft red skin.

A low moan left Buggy as the hot breath from your lips escaped and met his skin. "Fuck just- please" He spoke, his lips pressed in a tight line as he held back another moan. "I need you, please?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, teasing him, edging him on, "Oh really now? Does my good boy want my touch? My mout-"

With a flustered look, Buggy cuts you off "For fucks sake yes! Just fuck me with your blabbering mouth! Enough monologuing... "

You gave him a reassured smile, giggling a bit from his little outburst, "Of course, doll~"

And with that, Buggy went from an embarrassed mess to an absolute moaning catastrophe when your lips took in his tips in your mouth.

It felt so different, the warmth of the inside of your mouth. Only furthering his pleasure factor up once you mouth continue going down his cock more and more.

Your tongue met his length once more, the wet muscle gracing it as you began to swirl it around his length. Your hand at the bottom of his shaft, and the other still gripping his thigh. Buggy couldn't handle it, his chest rising more and more.

"Oh fuck candy! Nn~ Bah! Shit, that... feels so- ah!" His sentences stopped mid way, losing his breath and his ability to speak.

Your tongue swirled around his cock, feeling your saliva coat him entirely. Once you reached the base of his cock, you slowly moved your head back up to his tip, sucking on it. Your tongue swirled around his tip, moving over the slit of his cock, tasting his salty precum leaking.

You could feel his hand softly but fastly caress the back of your neck, trying to compose himself but failing miserable.

"So... good. Please. Please keep g-going- fuck" He said, more sweat tears dripping down his face and his jaw, onto his clothes and the sheets below.

Noticing your man's enjoyment, you moved your tongue under the slit of his cock, on his tip, putting pressure onto that area with your tongue. Licking over and over that area. He threw his head back, letting a deep groan rumble out of his chest as a string of low moans left him. The amount of pleasure and pure euphoria of sex was bringing him a feeling he hasn't felt in so long.

"Shit! F-Fuck babydoll, I-i knew you said you were a street performer, heh, guess you're a-a sheet performer now, huh-"

Your tongue moved away from the special place of his tip as you began to bop your head up and down on his cock, taking him as much as you can in your mouth. You could feel his pre cum smear all over in the inside of your cheeks, his tip hitting the soft flesh of your inner cheeks before taking it back further to the top of your throat.

Buggy was losing it, his body could barely continue itself as you continue to ravage his cock right in front of him.

"Damn, fuck fuck- god this is hot" he moaned, his eyes closing shut again, letting you take control of his body now. The pure amazing feeling he felt from you, sending the pleasure and lust from his cock all over his body was ascending him to another part of the seas.

His hands gripped your neck harder, pushing it down making you bop your head on his cock more and more. The intense wet sounds of lip smacking against skin throughout the room most likely kept the crew members awake.

But buggy didn't care.

He spoke aloud, looking down at you. His body trembling as you gave him the sucking of a lifetime. He smugly smirked at you, his eyes almost rolling back as your tongue swirled all around him, using your nose to breath through now.

"god. You're so fucking hot like this. I can't wait to fuck you. Give you the final act of this show we got going on here~" he was able to manage to say to you.

He hissed, feeling his stomach build up with pressure of pleasure, ready to bust. You were about to burst too, feeling the edge of your jaw start to sore with how fast you were sucking on his cock. The grip of your neck was no better in the making of this either.

With his help you were able to take him further up your throat, his red tip feeling hot once pressed against your soft and tender flesh inside your mouth.

Buggy liked the way he was hitting your throat like this. He started to change the control, thrust his hips a little up, pushing your mouth down on his cock back. The tip of his cock hitting a certain part of your throat, where the end of your mouth met the beginning of your throat.

He kept thrusting up forward faster and faster, watching as tears started to build up at the edges of your eyes. Your face was burning with intense heat of the situation, feeling a nice tingling sensation building through your body, erotic one would say.

Buggy spoke, "gonna... cummm~" he extended the one as he pushed your mouth harshly down on his cock, ooing aloud as his liquid spewed from the slit of his cock into your cock, coating it in his own product.

Buggy could feel the bliss of his body release from him, slowly but surely, as he came. It was an incredible and triumph feeling, out of this world. He can see the effect it had on you too.

Your face completely fucked now, some small tears streamed down your cheeks as you pulled your head back from his cock coughing up a little from the constant gagging. A string of his cum connected to your lips and your mouth. You sit back on your knees, panting a little trying to massage your jaw from the position it was in.

Buggy, on the other hand, relaxed, sitting there as he gained his breathing back normally. His list coated eyes watching as left over cum and saliva dripped down each side of his cock.

He glanced back to you in front of him, seeing you look almost out of it. He shakily got up and leaned down, kissing the top of your forehead before falling back onto the bed. Still in his euphoric state.

"good job baby" he thanks you in a genuine tone of voice. He detaches his one hand to cup your cheek in the palm of you, your head nuzzling into his touch, kissing it. His thumb caressed your cheek.

A little smile tugged at Buggy's lips, looking at the sweet scene in front of him. His lovely partner wanted the feeling and love of his touch. Something he too wanted more of from you.

Buggy, though he was almost out of it, was gonna give you the same treatment back and give the head of a lifetime for sure.

[tellmeallaboutit]

favorite Raphael fics

There are a lot of Raphael fic rec lists out there, I'll concentrate on my own niche of Raphael: dark!Raphael and related as I think this is what the audience of this blog mostly interested in.

Please note that the works listed below are a warning tag minefield, explicit and meant for mature audiences only. Also, all of them are F!Tav or AFAB!Tav.

to even the odds by @dodorimo // generally, check all dodo's works (all the little things with Astarion is also amazing) if you like my stuff, because we are very much into the same topics.

Forfeit by @deardarlingdevil // wonderful smut. The author really nailed down the psychology of a sadistic and a depraved man in bed.

Six Hours by @aladaylessecondblog // I liked this one for Tav actively NOT liking Raphael for all the right reasons. Felt like a very believable reaction of a cleric in the world to a devil.

Cheerful Oblivion by @sassyandsodone // this one is a very well-done realistic take on what it really means to be a devil's mindless loving doll.

The Devil's Own by @gatewarden108 // this one has all the favourite tropes: forced impregnation, captivity, isolation, mind break. Also, a finished long WIP which is a unicorn by itself.

Until We Bleed and Ecstasy by @theemptyislost // very much recommend this one with Haarlep as a key component in Tav / Dark!Raphael relationship.

Roses and Peppers by distorsie // this one is just lovely. The rare breed of poetic Dark!Raphael.

indulgences and debasement by @pouralaura // I don't think this Raphael is dark per se, but he is deliciously depraved and debauched. Besides, the author has a wonderful writing style from a technical perspective.

The Devil Inside by @littleplasticrat // this one is also very Haarlep-heavy, features also Tav x Dammon, and it's... it's as dirty as it gets. Being Raphael's warlock has "getting fucked in most depraved ways" in the job description. The only DAP in the fandom I know. Enjoy.

P.S. there is one deleted fic I still think about, it was called The House That Devil Built, methinks. Damn, just one chapter, but it had The Vibe (TM).

If you have a work recommendation that fits The Vibe (TM), just drop it in my inbox (self-promotion welcome obv), I would appreciate it. I rarely lurk AO3 anymore and as fics rarely get reblogged miss a lot of works.

[istanchan]

I’m going to blame Bible’s pretty face for making me become an apologist for his characters because I loved Vegas and all his red flags and now I love Great and all his red flags 🚩

But also can we talk about how you cannot compare Great and Vegas. At least in terms of their moral standpoint. I see a lot of people especially on TikTok ofc saying how Great is worse than Vegas??

Did we watch the same show because Vegas deliberately tortures and kills people. I mean truly his sadistic nature is what shapes his character and his story.

Great my pookie, he’s just a spoiled brat who made some very poor decisions. Yes I know he technically caused/aided in the death of two people, but… I mean he didn’t want to kill them. Legally he would have been charged with involuntary manslaughter for Manee and maybe 3rd degree murder for Dome.

Which okay yes he’s not innocent but… what if I said I don’t care and I still love him. Because how can I hate a character played by Bible??

And also he did try to help Nan even if he didn’t save her, I don’t think her death is his fault. And maybe this is a biased opinion but his reaction is lowkey valid. And he did end up saving Tyme.

Anyways I’m rambling, i just rewatched episode 6 so I’m going through it rn. Can Friday come any earlier!?

[fategoflatass]

I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.

So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.

Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.

The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.

And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.

What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?

And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼

GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.

But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.

Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?

And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.

It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.

So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.

[kp-alice]

Who do you reckon would be into things like over stim / denial / edging? I kinda feel like Joshua’s deff on the list x

Omg hi!! I love your blog so much, thanks for stopping by!! <3

Now, I feel like most of Seventeen would be down for some/all of these if you asked them about it, though some would definitely be more into it than others. And then, of course, there would be a few who would really hate it (*ahem ahem* Seungcheol *ahem*) and who would really "hate" it (Seungkwan), lol.

But yeah, I just wanted to say that while this only includes a few of the members, I think a lot more of them would be at least a little interested. Either way, let's get on with it!! I hope you enjoy ♥

ORGASM CONTROL WITH SUB!SEVENTEEN

Starting off, I think Woozi definitely belongs on this list, though his reasons are mostly practical. Since he's usually spent after just one orgasm, he wants to make it really count, you know? And what better way to go about that than by edging/overstimulation/both? Exactly.

He would love edging so much, the frustration of it somehow blurring with the pleasure so perfectly that it makes him see stars. He also wouldn't mind overstimulation, though he's usually so tired after cumming that he barely has the energy to properly react anymore :( Instead, you'd just have him shaking under you, eyes tightly squeezed shut as he tries to endure the intense feeling. And then you'd speed up even more, making him let out the weakest, most pathetic cry as his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, wordlessly begging you to stop as tears prick at his eyes. Whether you decide to spare him or not is up to you - you both know he'll have no choice but to take it anyway.

Wonwoo would love edging and orgasm denial so, so much. He'd thrive in the challenge of it, letting you constantly test just how far his own body and will can go. Not to mention the delicious, hungry, sadistic gleam in your eyes you'd get every time you did so, making him feel so small and vulnerable it feels like he's falling in love with you all over again.

He'd also like it if you controlled his orgasms in general - even if the two of you were far apart, he'd still call you to ask if he can touch himself, silently hoping that you'd not only say yes, but also stay and talk him through it. Wonwoo also appreciates the convenience of asking your permission, since it's a pretty easy and straightforward way for him to ask you for attention. All in all, Wonwoo would really enjoy you toying with him like this, loving the emotional aspect of it and treating it like an intimate little secret between the two of you <3

...You were teasing him for what felt like hours now, pushing him to the point where even the smallest touch to his cock had him tightly gripping his thighs. You're sat on the edge of your bed in faux disinterest, idly scrolling on your phone while teasing his still-clothed hard-on with your foot. And he has no choice but to take it, obediently kneeling down in front of you and keeping his eyes shut in both embarrassment and concentration, knowing that if he'd even so much as look up at you right now, he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore. Every now and then, a whispered plead comes stuttering past his lips, only for you to either brush it away or ignore it completely. He feels like crying at this point, and he knows you can see it too. And yet, you don't care. And for him, that's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

When it comes to orgasm control, Mingyu is an absolute all-taker. He doesn't have a preference for any of the three and would honestly be down to try everything in one night if you were both down and had enough time. As I've mentioned before, Mingyu loves it when you're mean to him, he doesn't even try to hide it. Any night during which you manage to make him cry is a successful one in his book. He would love the desperation and helplessness of it so much, it would make his head spin in the best way possible. I mean, technically, he's not exactly powerless - he could just disobey and cum whenever, right? But that's not your Mingyu. Instead, Mingyu gets off on the fact that not only are you not allowing him to cum, but because he wants to keep being your perfect boy, he himself is also denying himself the right. And while that's hot on one hand, it also means that sometimes when Mingyu genuinely slips up without meaning to, he's going to need a lot of reassurance from you that it's okay, so please give it to him :(

Vernon seems like someone who's more passive and prefers to keep things simple, so this would be pretty much perfect for him. Because although he's down for mostly anything, sometimes things can get a bit too complicated and intricate for him, which subsequently makes it harder for him to slip into the right mindset. But this, and edging in particular, would be just simple yet effective enough to become a true favorite of his, to the point he would ask you himself to edge him and not give in even when he begs for it.

Overstimulation would work on him just as well, though he would like it a bit less purely because of the pathetic noises it draws out of him every time. He'd try so hard to hold in his whines and whimpers, thighs trembling and fists clenched as his hips seemingly move on their own under you. You'd watch as his cheeks turn a vibrant red, refusing to look at you because he just knows you're grinning from ear to ear, proud of pushing him into such a rare state.

He'll still let you do it anytime you ask him, though (all while trying to pretend he's definitely not as excited about it as you), so ask away and have fun <3

Lastly, you mentioned Joshua, and believe me, he's definitely on the list as well! I just think he's similar to Vernon in the way he enjoys the simplicity yet effectiveness of it, so he's a bit more casual about it than Mingyu or Wonwoo, per se. I also think that Joshua would be pretty good at controlling his expressions and moans, which would make edging and overstimulating him sort of a challenge for you both to see if he'd crack or not.

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated! ♥

[punkedsolar]

Kelpie

Ever done something and had no idea how you did it and moreover find you could never replicate it again?

This is a digital Kelpie painting I did in Paper by FiftyThree when it was still my thing. I never worked out how to emulate this look and feel ever again.

This might be the first picture of the character Angel. Angel is a very dubious Kelpie character who is a shapeshifter on a game I'm on. He is usually capable of achieving beautiful forms by shape shifting, but his true shape, and his mind tend to be a bit slimy.

Character sheet inspired by @destinationtoast!

Angel the Kelpie (and other things)

Stats

Intense: 😤😤😤😤🫥 Complex: 😤🫥🫥🫥🫥 Fruity:😤😤😤😤🫥 Skrunkly: 🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥

Sub Class

Angst-lord 🚫 Enemy of the State 👌 Flavour Container: 👌🚫 Himbo 👌 Soft and Sweet 🚫 Braincell Haver 🚫 This Is a Kink 👌 Just Like You FR 🚫 Chew Toy 👌 Friend Shaped 🚫 Aspirational Char 🚫 Little Meow Meow👌🚫

Bits

Tragic Backstory? 👌🚫 Orphan? 🚫 Frequently Violent? 👌 Divorced? 🚫 Has enemies? 👌 Has friends? 👌 Sidekicks? 🚫 Would pet strays? 🚫 Insomniac? 🚫 Murder? 👌

just some guy -☠️-------- the protagonist of life head empty ☠️--------- too many thoughts stupid as shit ---☠️------- scary-smart awful company --☠️------- ray of sunshine hated by all ---☠️------ beloved by all trauma x1000 ------☠️--- untouched by history sadistic for fun -☠️-------- helps others for fun 1,000 weapons -----☠️---- 1,000 tools enemy of god -☠️-------- at peace with life break the rules --------☠️- change the rules

Angel is not exactly an evil person, but he is not a very good person. His character arc might involve getting to learn what being a human is, but in his defence, he started life as a piece of pond scum that got enchanted into being a horse by the number of people who drowned in the pond as accidental 'sacrifices'.

When he appears as a young man, he is generally blonde, hot, and mean as hell. Angel does not do angst despite having a pretty bleak background - as long as he lives to annoy a child or steal money out of a tip jar, Angel is happy. Technically, he isn't exactly 'gendered' but as a member of the Fae, he has very little comprehension of human sexuality in the first place.

[navigatebetweenthelines]

Because a lot of you seem to be conflating intelligence to mean a single thing im going ro spell it out for you

DAZAI!

quick on his feet. He reads body language pretty well. he knows what to expect. His disadvantage is that he tends to project his own expectations onto others and this clouds his judgement. He is "intelligent" in the way thar he has a great capacity to improvise in tricky situations. He doesn't know everything he just always makes sure to have a plan B C D E F and G. Thats it

RANPO!

he knows all the facts about any given situation. His biggest disadvantages are that his judgement is shoddy at best and he doesn't always know what to do with that information. He is used to disregarding information for the sake of peace but that often means he ends up too close to the wrong people. He forgives EVERYONE he gives everyone a second chance. For as much as he sees the bad in a person he sees the good. He is unreliable and inconsistent. The good this about him is that as soon as he realizes his mistake he never makes it again.

POE!

JUSTTT as smart as Ranpo. He can GATHER as much information as Ranpo but it takes more effort. He has a lot of resources and technical know how. He knows technology, he knows politics, international law and most importantly people. His biggest advantage is that he knows exactly how to pressure people into doing what he wants. His mysteries are tailor made so that people can only escape when they realize what he wants them to. It is becuase of this that he saw society as a farce. That's why Ranpo and him are such a good team. Ranpo can see everything and Poe knows what to do with it.

Louisa!!!

She can slow down time when she's focused THAT'S her ability. She is capable of thinking of every possibility and coming up with dependable statistics. She's smarter than Dazai but less of an asset because her analysis relies on what she is aware of. In the world of BSD there is ALWAYS something no one is aware of. She isn't as capable of recovering quickly from a miscalculation so she really only has one shot.

Chuuya!!!

He doesnt need to use his intelligence most of the time because he can pretty much brute force his way out of most things. His intellegence relies on instinct. He has GREAT instincts. He knows when a situation has gone sour. Of course he doesnt usually verbalize it because with Dazai he doesn't need to and when he's alone why would he announce it to an enemy. He knows when he's safe and when he isn't. His biggest disadvantage is that he doesn't always listen to those instincts. In terms of priorities he almost always puts himself last and that leads to a lot of problems.

NIKOLAI!!!

Nikolai is similar to Chuuya except a bit more extreme because no one's life is his priority. His motivations are unclear and he always goes for the most imoral option. He isn't concerned with a specific desired outcome it is the inconsistency of his own actions that drive him.

FYODOR!!!

Kinda like Poe, in that he knows how to work people, but to a lesser extent and a little like the chameleon that Dazai can be but to a greater extent: he KNOWS people. He knows what a person wants more than anything and he promises that to them.

His biggest advantage is that he is smart enough to ally himself with people who have nothing else to live for. Sigma, Nikolai, Bram (before Aya), Nathaniel and Fukuchi are all outsiders. They are alone but desperately want to feel like they belong. Fyodors biggest disadvantage is that if those people find belonging elsewhere his influence on them shatters. He seems to be aware of that? Idk it's too soon to tell.

Mori!!!

He isn't crazy smart. He's just sadistic and cruel. He picks easy targets (children) and slowly takes away their agency. He undoes them until they have nothing to live for and they then become perfectly obedient adults. His biggest disadvantage is that he relies on the chain of abuse and that isn't sustainable as a dynamic for power. Chuuya and Akutagawa have no one above them to preassure them to listen to orders now that Dazai is gone. Also the extreme amounts of abuse he relies on is impossible to ditch out to EVERYONE. That's why he relied on the chain of abuse but that's failing. Mori isn't smart. He's a coward. He takes the shortest path no matter the resistance.

FUKUCHI!!

isn't smart either. He is just THE BEST chameleon. He hid in plain sight. He knows war and war tactics. He's a great spy and facilitating a strong bond with the target is a spy strategy.

They are not all the same stop conflating their perspectives as "knows everything". It leads to a lot of misunderstandings and a lot of misinformation. DAZAI IS NOT RANPO! He doesnt know everything. He's just really good at pretending he does.

[odesofmeddea]

when i point out things like manipulation coercion emotional abuse etc etc. in samdean purview i don't imply a condemning connotation behind these terms, by the way, and i don't see the mutual abuse that both sam and dean occasionally enact upon each other as something that contorts the situated power dynamic.

i.e. when dean controls sam or robs him of his agency i don't immediately insinuate sam's position to be that of the unilateral victim - although he technically is, in some ways, dean's victim, there's always a spatial permit in letting him construe and reciprocate the damage received in his own way. when he abuses dean and is objectively verbally cruel or denigrating towards him, he's as much of a wounder and a manipulator and a jealous appropriator - in cases where he wants dean entirely and only to himself. the appropriation and possessiveness go as far as torturing other beings or corrupting a human soul, planning on murdering benny or killing dean's biological daughter from another woman, the daughter and benny being a threat to his position of the primal importance in his brother's life, thus robbing dean of any alternative. sam does, in fact, have this sadistic faculty reared and nurtured in him, the very faculty that s1-9 he would often resort to when forced or provoked and is otherwise rendered defenseless.

it's different from when i say that john ruined dean and mean it not in a neutral uncritical way, because john as a father was omnipotent in relation to his sons, and he abused that power ghastly for his own convenience. it's different from when i assert that lucifer mentally and sexually tortured sam for eons and has broke and rebroke his extant already-whacked personality, adding trauma on trauma, simply because he enjoyed demolishing him. with sam and dean, however detriment, there's always another basis of evaluation because there's a different nucleus of emotional input and intent that in its provenance is not manichean but instead very deeply human and therefore must be a panoply of manifestations, moral or not, logical or inadequate, often irrationally both. oh. they're also in love with each other, so the question of split-up is factually out of the equation and is not a desirable solution for their ongoing conflict.

[yanderes-galore]

Transformers (feel free to choose the series) Optimus Prime vs Megatron with a human darling romantic concept?????

Sure! I decided to keep this general :) Sorry if it's bad since I made it a general take.

Yandere! Optimus Prime vs Megatron

Human Darling - No Particular Version

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Dehumanization, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Cybertronian/Human pairing, Dubious/Forced relationship, Sadism, Isolation.

Ah yes, the Autobot and Decepticon leader fighting each other once again over something.

This is a good time to explain what I mean when I say Autobots and Decepticons lean towards a certain yandere type.

I always picture Yandere Autobots falling towards the overprotective attribute while Yandere Decepticons tend to display a more sadistic yandere type.

Optimus Prime and Megatron are very good examples of this.

Autobots tends to want to protect those they hold dear.

While Decepticons tend to take what they want.

This rule doesn't apply to everyone (For example, Pharma from the IDW comics is technically Autobot but has Decepticon traits due to working with them), yet it's a default many Cybertronians display.

Optimus Prime and Megatron, being leaders of their respective factions, would be the pinnacle of this.

Optimus Prime's goal with a human, especially if they were human, would be to protect them at all costs.

Autobots would get along with human darlings the most, Prime is no exception.

Optimus Prime already feels responsible for a team of Autobots, who that is depends on the version.

They are like his family.

A human darling would be kept very safe with him.

For this concept I'd say you'd most likely be a supporter of the Autobots.

Most humans are.

As a result you are the closest to Optimus Prime.

Prime has no idea how to display his affection to you that would br acceptable between humans and Cybertronians.

To be fair many Cybertronians don't.

As a result he settles for simple things like holding/carrying and words.

If he has a holoform in this that would be a good way to communicate too.

The biggest issue is his size when it comes to showing you he cares.

He loves you and it is romantic yet you wouldn't be able to tell unless he told you.

Optimus Prime is considerate of how a relationship with you would affect you and actually listens to you for the most part.

You are one of the people he cares for the most.

Optimus Prime's softer and more protective affection is different from Megatron's intense and destructive affection.

Being the leader of the Decepticons he is less willing to work with humans.

Megatron would see his human darling as a lesser being to him.

Optimus Prime talks to you like you're an equal, an ally who fights alongside him.

Megatron treats you like a pet even if he feels romantic attraction towards you.

He feels powerful when he holds you, he likes the sadistic pleasure your fear gives him.

He loves the feeling of you being his.

With Megatron the relationship leans more towards what Megatron wants than you.

You most likely met Optimus Prime by being saved by the Autobots.

You most likely met Megatron by an attack that the Autobots saved you from or you were kidnapped from the Autobots after meeting them.

The power struggle between the two factions now has a new reason to push.

Their leaders happen to like a particular human... and one of them will have you in the end.

Optimus Prime is the one you have a higher chance of having a "normal" relationship with.

As normal as having a romantic relationship with an overprotective Autobot can go, at least.

Megatron likes the idea of owning you, plus having you and making you fall for him can hurt Optimus.

Which is what Megatron wants more than anything.

The two would definitely fight brutally with each other over you.

However, it's primarily Megatron who aims to kill.

Megatron is easily the worst yandere of the two.

Even a "relationship" with him still makes you feel inferior.

The dynamic is one wants to genuinely provide for you, while the other wants to own you.

Autobots are never the most intense yanderes but Optimus Prime would do whatever he can to keep you with him and safe.

I can't think of him killing or brutally harming someone but he would isolate you.

Megatron would kill and brutally harm others to have you.

Decepticons do have the potential to harm others to have what they want.

Megatron would do this more than anyone to have you, even if you are an organic.

It's no doubt you'd benefit the most from Optimus Prime, yet Megatron will always be a threat trying to take you from the Prime.

Their fighting over you will persist about as long as it takes for the war to end or you expire.

Two titans of immense power fighting for their own desires.

All with you caught in the middle.

The moment you're in the hand of one, the other plucks you from them.

If the war ends and you're somehow alive, perhaps they will compromise?

It's unlikely but that would be one of the only chances you experience peace... if not with one of them dead.

A rivalry between Optimus and Megatron is about as destructive as you think.

The two already fight each other enough as is.

Until the war ends, you'll never know peace...

As long as they're both alive, they'll search for you.... Regardless of who wins you fear for your future.

[misc-obeyme]

I know most people of the fandom view and interpret Lucifer as some kind of sadistic ultra alfa male dom (1 of the things is true), but i swear to God if u say the minimal praise or show the tiny bit of affection to that man he will break apart!!!! That guy blushes hard and cries for affection!!! Such a loser!!! (I love him)

-🍵

NSFW MDNI (nothing explicit, but putting this because of the discussion of dom/sub dynamics)

Okay is the 1 thing that's true "male?" Because we've all seen dame Lucifer, right?? LOL!

Anyway, I have seen some discussion about this and I have to say it's really interesting to me and my personal relationship with Lucifer as a character.

Because initially, I was just like everybody else. In Season One of the OG, I read Lucifer as a sadistic ultra alpha male dom, absolutely. I was like yup this guy is super dom like wow. And I was into that for a little while, but then it got annoying. So I went from liking him to disliking him quite a bit.

Then as the seasons progressed, I realized that it's all an act.

Lucifer wants everyone to think he's some sadistic dom type. And to that end, I think he would take on that role for an MC who was into it. (Technically I think he's a switch.)

But the reality is that Lucifer wants to be a sub so bad. Underneath that stoic strict facade, you've got one overtired guy who would lose his whole mind if someone else took control of him for once.

You could go with the soft praise route and I think he'd melt. Exactly like you said, he'd break apart and blush like crazy. BUT only with someone he trusts. Someone he can let see the truth beneath that exterior he always puts up. He worries too much about his reputation to be careless about it. So this is something I think only MC (and maybe Diavolo) could successfully pull out of him.

I also think you could go hardcore with it and he'd be into that, too.

I mean, imagine being Lucifer. Imagine being one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Imagine having the reputation that he has, knowing that he could snap his fingers and obliterate everything if he really wanted to. Imagine being dangerous in a quiet and authoritative way. Imagine keeping other super powerful demons in line with only a few words. Imagine having to keep that up at all costs all the time. Imagine working so hard for so long to maintain that image.

And then imagine someone comes along with whom you can be who you really are. Someone with whom you can let your guard down. Someone you can finally be completely and totally honest with. Someone you trust.

Oh yes. I think Lucifer wants nothing more than to submit to the one he loves the most. And it's because he loves them that he's not only willing to, he craves it.

Well, anyway, I got a little carried away, but that's my opinion on it!

Also I just love thinking about the reaction Lucifer would have if MC called him a good boy. 😊