#toxic reader

[tojisteddy]

Acknowledge Me

or: Simon finally gives you attention after you piss him off.

“The power it takes, to make me cry that way. Baby, I hate me when you get under my skin.”

cw: 3.6k words (lord), 18+ MDNI, Toxic!Simon/Meanie!Simon, smut with plot, daddy kink (daddy, pa), dubcon, p in v, dacryphilia, degradation (like hell), water park amusement, pvssy slapping, creampie, marathon!, intoxicated sex, pet names (lovie, doll, pup), overstim, orgasm denial, straight debauchery, after care, y/n visuals.

a/n: acknowledge me by doja cat was the big inspo.

Were you a fucking stupid brat?

Or were you simply itching for attention that you deserved?

If you told your friends, they wouldn’t call you a fucking brat. Stupid? Yeah.

For being with a man who didn’t hesitate to curse you out when you annoyed him. Simon Riley didn’t even flinch when you started hearing those hiccups over the phone, he could already picture your trembling bottom lip, huffed out cheeks and tears forming at your water line. If anything it pissed him off further.

“Don’t fuckin try it with those tears [+]. I fuckin told you, you tell me where the fuck you’re goin. Why the fuck did I have see you move to five different bars in three fuckin hours and you didn’t say a word to me about it till now!?” Simon yelled through the phone.

“You and your dumb ass friends are too fuckin reckless—“

“—Don’t call them that-“ you chided.

“-Oh, I promise you lovie, I don’t give a shit.” his voice with venom.

For fucks sake, it was supposed to be a fun night out and if you were one of your friends, it would’ve been. You and your friends loved bar hopping, enjoying the vibe wherever you went and free alcohol that men and women would order for you. You don’t remember how many bars ago, but your phone died somewhere in the middle and you did spend about five minutes at the last 6 bars trying to find an outlet before your friends dragged you away to the dance floor. That had to count for something, right? You did try to get some form of life on your phone for thirty minutes!

You’d finally gotten to an outlet, right next to the fucking bathroom. ‘15 missed called 4 new messages.’ A string of curses leaving your mouth once you dialed that memorized phone number. And there Simon was, talking to you out the ass while the music was booming in the distance, you had your phone in one hand and a finger in the other trying to hear him properly, the smell of only-god-knows from god-knows-what filling your poor nose all so you could attempt to fix your accidental boo-boo :( — but that bastard had to have you crying in the club.

Like you were thirsty for his attention. you were.

No, none of this was your fault. You didn’t need to update the 6’4, blonde, hunk of a damn brat, when he hadn’t even bothered to contact you in a month.

Yup, the ghost was actually known for ghosting you.

Purposely declining your calls, leaving your texts on read or worse: replying with a ‘k’ when you tried to meet up when you knew (least for the most part) he kept to himself. When he was stationed near by, he was at his own fucking house minding his own business. He was the worst. And the cherry on top?

The fucker had your location on.

You swore he did this to get a rise out of you, to see you teetering off the brink of sanity— and you had to attempt to reel yourself back in every. fucking. time. You weren’t his little plaything, you didn’t need him.

“Don’t fuck with me.” you mumbled, salty tears hitting your mouth. Those would be the last for the night, you swore it. It was like the liquor finally left your heart and went to your brain. Liquid courage.

“What’dyou just say t’me?”

Louder, “I said, don’t fuck with me! I’m sick of your shit Simon!” You snapped. You weren’t an angry person, you’d just hit an annoying wall you needed to get though. The annoying wall called Ghost Riley.

“You always- always come out of the fucking blue ‘nd think you tell me what to do! I’m not a fucking idiot, I know what the fuck I’m doin! Don’t be bitchy at me cause I like to have a little fuckin fun with my friends even when you’ve been ignoring me. Fuckin ignoring me instead of telling me what’s up! The fuck do I gotta do to get you off my dick?!”

“You like the messy shit, Si! You like seein me pissed at you just so you’re the one who has to come and fix it! I can’t stand it. You should go find a bitch who likes that shit because I don’t! I hate how I feel right now and I hate that you can’t be one of those kind boyfriends who’ll come and fuckin hold me nice and shit! Hell, maybe I’ll go find someone to hold me realll nice like since you fuckin won’t!” You spat, nose flaring, you were trembling with rage.

“Pup,” one word. Cut throat. Yanking you right back down to reality. “You take your pretty ass home, ‘nd I’ll go easy on you, yeah?”

You felt your chest rising and falling rapidly, you were frustrated that he clearly didn’t listen to your little rant but you felt your panties get damp. Just a bit. Just like always when you saw a punishment coming. You couldn’t help yourself.

“I-“

“—She’s busy right now please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeep.” Your friend, Sharon, has snactched your phone out of you hand, quickly interjecting your conversation with the man and hanging up. She hiccuped, nodding her head in satisfaction.

“You can’t spend the whoooole night by this stinky ass bathroom. Let’s go daaaaance, or-or drink.” She giggled, taking your hands. “Or both!” She squealed at her own words.

Fuck it.

You went out with your friends so you could have a good time, and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Simon had such a nice way of breaking you down to your knees, so you were the one sobbing and begging then bringing you back up. He didn’t do it often, he wasn’t that fucking mean, but he did it when you really pissed him off. Simon needed you to understand— you weren’t in charge. He was. The man doesn’t remember exactly what you did to piss him anymore, it had been a long and grueling month for him anyway. But he had to follow through with something because he’d be damned if he had to actually apologize, you being with your idiot friends didn’t help your case. So he threw it in the melting pot of why he had a right to bully you.

The motherfucker couldn’t help himself.

When he entered your empty and annoyingly small studio apartment, he added another mark to his ‘reasons to fuck babygirl up’ list. He told you to take your sweet ass home, didn’t he? And where were you?

He’d make sure the neighbors knew exactly who the fuck he was.

It should’ve been easy for you to check in, no? He worried about your safety above all else, but it always seemed to fly out the window when you were with your friends who were notorious and extreme party girls while you just went with the flow. He didn’t not like them sober, it’s when you went clubbing you, for some reason, would get hard headed, defiant. It pissed him off, which would always lead to an argument. Usually he’d come snatch you up while you were tipsy, you’d have a cry in the car, mumbling something about how you just knew the man didn’t like you or take you serious.

And partially, Ghost didn’t. He brushed your insecurities away at first, thinking nothing of it as you went about your life. But you kept being on edge drunk or sober. So he would be right there, finger fucking you otherwise while the car was still in motion. And maybe you were right, maybe he wasn’t the sweet and soft boyfriend you wanted who’d hold your cute little hand when you made him angry. He wasn’t the type to coddle you, chicken peck your face with kisses when you felt down. Simon Riley was the gruff and overbearing man you needed to set you straight, keep you grounded when the world went to shit.

That’s what your cute little tantrum was about, least part of it was. Simon knew he was distant, you just needed a reminder he was yours and you were his. And only his. You craved him like you needed food, it was obvious to anyone who saw you two together. He chuckled, couldn’t believe you even suggested fucking some other man. As if they could handle you, as if they knew what you needed.

He’d set that attitude straight.

The shower was running when the front door of your flat closed behind you. There’s no way you left it on this whole time, did you? You didn’t remember. The night turned into a long one.

No, you didn’t get black out drunk like your friends suggested. You had another shot or two, deciding to stay on the sober side with your DD. You two did smoke a fat blunt before hitting another club though, that made you feel like you were starting to lose your hearing. But it mellowed you out completely. The anger you felt, all that angst and sadness? Gone like a snap of your fingers. The person who was yelling and crying earlier? Technically it wasn’t you, you just needed a little peace. A little medicinal help.

After singing and dancing as hard as you could, your drunk friends taking blurry photos and videos of you that you’d probably post later, you persuaded them it’d be best to get something to eat and head home around two am. It took thirty minutes to find a convenience store that was open so you could chow down on something, and fifteen to get home. With a basically empty bag of chips in one hand, purse slung over your shoulder like a duffle, a bag of junk food in your other hand, low red eyes and a small smile— you finally got home.

You’d deal with that asshole tomorrow. Or next week— maybe next month if you gave enough of a fuck like he did.

Who knows.

You sat the bag of food on the coffee table, right now the priority was your skin care routine, then eat, then zonk out till 2 pm. You still can’t believe you left the shower and the bathroom light on that was now blinding your eyes but whatever. You’d turn it off as soon as you were done since it was warm due to the slight steam.

Routine, routine, routin— you stumbled over a pile of clothes. Large male clothes— okay, maybe you were in the wrong apartment.

Not your first rodeo.

You’d just slowly back out and try looking for your apartment. No big deal.

But the shower curtain swung open and you tripped over the clothes, falling right on your ass with a yelp.

“Ya can’t be that fuckin drunk, can ya?”

Your eyes darted open, right at the familiar deep cockney accent— Simon Riley was right there in the flesh, water dripping down his scarred and large body, making him dazzle like a God in that fucked up bathroom light.

Now that was blinding.

“Hello? Are ya listenin?”

Oh, he really wanted an answer.

“ ‘M not drunk.” You said breathlessly. Intoxicated? Yes. But not drunk. The shots had worn off ages ago. Hell, maybe your high was too at the sight of this brute.

What the fuck was he doing here?

The blonde ignored the confused look on your face. Taking a towel that sat on the sink and drying his hair. No point in drying off anything else, he was about to sweat.

So were you.

Simon continued on, stepping past you and you quickly got up, following right behind him like a starved puppy. For someone who hated your apartment, he sure walked around like he owned the place. Nude, large cock swinging, and the look of annoyance written on his handsome unmasked face.

He sat on the bed, manspreading nonchalantly. Knowing you were looking at it, your eyes immediately went elsewhere.

“What do you want?” You mumbled out, shifting from foot to foot.

As if you didn’t know what was bound to happen.

The older man laughed, sarcasm dripping down his throat.

“Be good ‘nd strip, won’t repeat myself.”

“Si-Simon!” Your breath hitched once a large hand came down on your ass, once for good measure.

“Who?” He slapped his thick member on your ass, sliding it through the crevice of your cheeks.

“But- but Simon-“ another slap.

“You’re gonna make it worse for yourself, call me proper.” He smacked his cock over your glistening folds. So fucking wet.

“Daddy mmph,” You moaned.

“All this ‘b-b-but’ bullshit from ya. You’ve pissed me off more than enough. You’ll take all of it today.” Simon slipped inside your hole, filling you to the brim even with half of that girthy cock in you. You both hissed, fuck, it was always so good when he was inside your walls. Simon slowly started to rock his hips into you, slowly but surely making sure you took every inch if his manhood had to offer.

It was when he bottomed out, you knew you were in for it. Simon wasn’t talking to you, he forced your head down on the bed, forcing your back to arch further as he thrusted right at your spot. Over and over and over.

“Gonna cum pa, gonna cum.” You stuttered, feeling the pit in your stomach starting to turn.

“No you’re not.”

“—But—”

“I dare you [+]. I know you’d just looove seein how that turns out.”

You hiccuped, tears brimming as Simons pace got faster. You could feel him throbbing inside you but he wouldn’t cave. He was making the both of you suffer over a petty argument— a mistake that in any normal relationship wouldn’t be that serious.

“I- no- anngh— I need to cum—”

“-You don’t need shit you greedy. fuckin. bitch.” He grunted, swatting your ass with every thrust.

The man yanked you up by your tosseled hair, “You had your oh-so lovin Daddy fuckin worried about’cha so you can be safe then when I finally get a hold of ya ‘nd tell you to go home, you ignore me. Threatenin to go fuck some idiot, but he couldn’t fuck you like I can? Can he? Can’t keep you pretty ‘nd upright? Can he?” His hand trailed from your throat to the buldge at your stomach. He scuffed, “now you’re itching t’cum just because I have my cock right here in ya? Fuckin dumb bitch shit,”

“You a dumb bitch?” He asked, making sure you were fucking him back. Ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.

“Noooo.” You cried out, trying to get away but it only made the brute dig into you further.

“What?”

“No sir.”

“Thaaats right princess. You're my smart little girl, listen to me next time. Good on you- fuck— for tryin to salvage yourself.” He huffed.

You didn’t realize your own toes curling at that small praise, your body trembling as you reached your peak.

“Hold it, did you just fuckin cum? When I told you not to?” He growled, forcing you to look at his eyes that were practically red with anger.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You really couldn’t help yourself, you’d been holding it for how long? And you were still kinda high which made you feel the sensations ten fold, Simon was drilling into you like no tomorrow and then he gave you an inch of kindness after being so mean to you this whole fucking time.

Your body unconsciously took a mile.

“Nope.” He yanked you back to lay your back on him, the rest of his drenched length in you, and lifted your leg so it was over your head, legs parted like the red sea. The first smack on your cunt for the night had you screaming, water spraying out.

Simon gripped your chin, forcing you to look down at the mess you created while harshly rubbing your pearl, still thrusting into you from behind, “You wanna act like a greedy bitch and think with your pussy? Then you cum like a greedy fuckin bitch. Cum you dirty pup.”

And he kept smacking down on your poor cunt, unable to stop yourself from cumming and squirting. Completely creaming Simons girthy cock so that a ring of cum formed around the base of his length.

“Daddy I can’t-“ you keened.

The man scowled, “-Shut. the fuck. up. You never shut the fuck up, the only thing I wanna hear is how fucking wet that pussy is. Keep fuckin cummin like a dirty slut you are.”

And you did.

You were wetting the bed like a dog. Water flying everywhere with every thwack of Simons hand on your abused and misused clit. You didn’t even know how many times you had cum by that point. Words? What were those? You wouldn’t even be able to read a street sign or name your favorite color if asked.

You were seeing pure white, the only thing you could hear was the loud squelching of Simon pumped himself in and out of you. He pulled out for a second causing you to whine at the loss of him, but he slipped back into your tight walls, fucking you in a nice missionary.

He gave your face a few light smacks to the face, tutting “Ah, ah, ah, pup, don’t you fuckin pass out. Eyes on Daddy.”

You managed to pry those long lashes open, hooded and lower than they could ever get when you were high.

“Therrrre my pretty girl is. Look so good bein fuckin stupid on my dick doll. This is alllll my girl needed. A good lesson, yeah? Remind ‘er who’s boss, huh?” He smirked, dragging himself down to you so your legs were at your chest.

“Shit baby, feel you squeezing down on me. Wanna cum with me? Missed me given it to ya just like you always need?” Oh, you were crying again. Yeah, you did miss his mean ass.

And his mean beautifully scarred up face, the mean way his muscles flexed when he did anything, his stupid fucking mouth that had to say some stupid shit touching your full lips, his disgustingly sexy muscular yet pudgy stomach with a happy trail touching your stomach everytime he wrapped those arms around you. His massive presence when he stood next to you, mean brown eyes watching while you did your hair, your makeup, or got dressed. Heartless hands that rubbed your neck everytime he didn’t know how to comfort you because that asshole trying his hardest to understand you.

And that undeniably cruel, overly massive cock fucking you like you were the final girl getting a well deserved an award for making it out the trenches in a horror film.

Your head was full with the thought of daddy, daddy, daddy— you shook your head but you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. You hung on to whatever bullshit that man gave you. Only him. Always him.

“Wan- I wan it pa! Wan your cum in me.” you babbled through your sobs.

“Course ya fuckin do. Can’t do shit without me.” The older man crooned. He finally planted his lips on yours, you moaned at just the feel. Pink walls fluttering in ecstasy as he filled you to the brim. Slow thrusts making sure he pumped everything he had into your perfect cunt.

So much for not crying anymore.

The only sound you could be heard in that studio was you cries, like a fucking baby, bouncing off your thin walls. The headboard was finally able to rest, you knew for a fact your neighbors probably despise your being now.

“Why didn’t you- you come see me? I wanted- hicc- I wanted to see you. But- but- you wouldn’t come see me! Wouldn’t even talk to me on the phone,” You sobbed, tripping and falling through your words. “you must hate me.”

The older man rolled his eyes, “Didn’t ever say tha’. How can I hate’cha ‘nd your mine? Doesn’t make sense mama.”

“Didn’t call me though.” You were sprawled out on the bed now, fat tears escaping your eyes. The blonde was sitting on the bed, grabbing the bottled water that he kept in the nightstand, opening it and putting it to your lips to drink. You did, lifting just enough for a bit to go down your bound to be sore throat and flopping back on the bed.

“Was busy swee’art.” Half truth, half lie. Though it was habit, he was trying to keep you in the loop of his life this time. But old habits die hard. The man forgot to reply. His work schedule was fucked, and he was busy spending his free time moving house. The house he planned to give you, it just wasn’t ready yet. Simon was actually being good for you, for once.

“You’re not always busy Si, you just don’t like my annoying voice!” You whimpered.

It took everything in the older brute to not laugh, you were bein so fucking cute. Babbling nonsense but still clinging to him like a lifeline. Still wanting, still his baby girl.

“Told ya, you weren’t annoyin. Got a nice voice, so get it out silly skull.” He cooed, sitting you on your bottom to face him.

You sniffed, moaning and groaning in annoyance but choosing to accept those words. And only those though.

“Fucks sake, Stop it.”

“I caaaant.” You whined, profusely wiping your tears.

“No, dummy.” Simon pushed your hands off your own face, gently wiping the tears with his thumbs that continued to poor out, “Yer gonna throw a fuckin fit if your face ends up bein puffy cause you wipe your tears so damn rough. Take it easy.”

No one knew how to wipe your tears better than the man who created them.

“I wanna make up, you don’t want to?” That was as close to an apology you’d ever get. Always.

A proper Ghost apology was rare as is and you wouldn’t be getting that after your little tantrum tonight. So you ate up what you could get.

“I wanna- I wanna make up too Daddy.” You croaked, dragging out your words. Adorable princess.

“Pfft,” he ruffled your now messy, sweated out hair, “I gotcha.”

“Up you go.” Like a feather, Simon lifted you from the bed, walking to the bedroom you too had been at who knows how many hours ago. He gently sat you on the counter of the sink,

“Let’s get you all ready for bed, yeah?”

a/n: I really love meanie!Simon the most. Let me know what you think about him.

[ashblooddragons]

Just As Bad As You Are

Request made by @athzhowakar

Summary: When a worderful lay with your husband leads to you giving him good news, but what if he pieces together your dark secret, the only thing you would ever keep from your dear older brother.

Word count: 1377

Warnings: smut, p in v, slight choking, mentions of miscarriges, mentions of poisioning, toxic relationship, Targcest, tell me if I missed anything

I moan as Maegor fucks me from behind, there isn’t a night he doesn’t take me. For why should he go to his others when they can’t give him children and I’ve already given him three?

“Maegor.” I moan out as he grabs my hair making me arch my back.

“I’m gonna put another babe in that belly of yours, you’ve been empty of my seed for too long.” he groans out as he grinds his hips just right, that he makes me see stars. 

I can’t help but laugh, for ever since the Maesters said I was fit for childbearing again there hasn’t been a morning or night that his seed wasn’t working its way inside me. “Do you truly think with how often you take me that I am not with child yet?” I say before another moan leaves my throat when his palm lands on my rear. 

“Every time I think I fuck that brat out of you, then it rears its head begging to be taught a lesson.” He says before pulling out and flipping me so I lay on my back only to slam back into me with more force and vigor than before. 

“What, no snarky remark, no comment on how I love when you’re a brat? He teases as he takes my right leg and puts over his shoulder so we both feel him go deeper. 

I can’t even speak, I just grip the hair on the back of his neck as he ruts into me. I know if any maid, courtier, or gods forbid one of his other fucking wives, walked by they would only hear the sound of skin hitting his and obscene moans. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I beg as I feel my peak just along the horizon. 

“Go on, cum on my cock you little slut.” He demands as he reaches up to grip my throat choking me until he feels my cunt spasm around his cock as I milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck.” He groans out as his seed fills me before he lays against my chest.

We lay there as we both come down from our highs. Me rubbing his back tracing all his scars like constellations, and him kissing my neck and moving his hands up and down my thighs adn ribs. 

It’s these moments I feel the safest, not when I have two guards following me, or when I stand next to my darling golden Gaelithox. No, I feel the safest when I’m in the arms of the man I love, and who loves me.

“I wasn’t being a brat, the Maesters told me last night I’m with child again.” I whisper before playfully biting his ear.

His look is priceless when he leans back looking down at me as he uses his arms to hold himself up. “Do not jest.” He says with that tone that makes even men tremble, but not me.

I take his shocked state as a chance to take control and flip us so I’m on top. “I do not jest, my moon blood is two moons late.” I say as I pin his arms next to his head. We both know if he wanted to he could easily get out of my grip, but we also both know he doesn’t want to.

With those words I climb off his lap and take my robe and wrap it around me as I go to tell the guard that I am in need of a bath. As I wait I decide to brush my hair before my bath as it doesn’t need washed but it most definitely needs brushed after our escapades. 

I notice Maegor is lost in thought but assume it must be because of a council meeting, he pulls on his breaches as my Maids come in with hot water for my bath. I sigh in relief as I sink into the heat of the bath waving my Maids away. “Leave me.” 

I start to scrub my arms with pomegranate seeds not noticing Maegor taking a stool and sitting behind me. 

“You’ve never lost a babe.” His gruff voice fills my ears startling me as I turn to look up at him.

“No I haven’t?” I look at him confused, fighting the fear that fills my belly that he has figured it out. 

He only moves to take some pomegranate and my other arm starting to scrub the coarse seeds into my skin. I watch as his jaw tenses and releases and I know he knows when his eyes look into mine. 

“And yet all of my other wives have.” He says his eyes boring into mine but I will not show fear, I don’t regret what I did. “I thought Tyanna, though I suspect I was right with her. But there were many lost, too many she couldn’t have known about that left their mothers wombs too soon. My Council said you must have something to do with it, I didn’t want to believe them, but now I wonder if I should have.” He says gripping my arm to the point tears come to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

 “Do you want me to admit something? Perhaps make the accusation.” I hiss out as I grit my teeth. 

I watch as his nostrils flare in rage, I know he doesn’t want to accuse me, I’m his sweet little sister, but he also knows I won’t admit anything if he doesn’t accuse me first. 

“Did you force them to miscarry? Did you poison my other wives?” He demands with a scowl.

“Yes.” 

I watch as his face morphes into shock and rage. I know he must have been praying I would no, that I would deny these allegations until my last breath, but I won’t for I don’t regret what I did.

“Why?” He asks in a calm voice that I know is hiding a inferno of rage.

“Your my brother, we came from the same womb, and yet I had to share you with a barren Hightower, a whore from across the seas, and three more courtly whores. You didn’t even wed me properly, you took me at the same time as you did those two other bitches looking for any needy hound. I knew what I had to do, Mother didn’t teach me those dark ways for nothing, she knew just as I do now. That you are weak, you will take any lady or whore to your bed and call her wife, that all a man has to do is have his pretty daughter suck your cock and then he is a man to be jealous of. But I am not some Lady of court, nor am I a whore, I am a dragon and a dragon must find another of their kind or else their embers will cease to burn. So I poisoned your stupid little wives, and I made sure Tyanna didn’t touch my womb for I would be the only one to bear your children. I don’t regret it, I never would, but now you have decision to make.” I say breathless after I let all the darkness I had kept hidden from him for so long out of my heart and into the air so only us and the gods to hear and judge.

He only stares at me, tears brimming his eyes before he looks down, shaking his head. “And what decision is that?” He asks force breaking from sheer shock.

“Will you execute me, charge me for my crimes? Or will you keep this a secret that we take our graves letting no man judge me, only the gods.” I say reaching over the tub to take his hands in mine. 

I smile when I feel his hands squeeze mine and he looks back up at me and says. “Now what kind of older brother would I be to have my little sister hanged for something so trivial?” 

He then leans forward and kisses me fiercely picking me up as I wrap my legs around his waste. 

“I knew you would never betray me.” I say as he kisses down my stomach towards my core as he begins another round.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy

[moonybug444]

toxic connie freaking the fuck out when your period is late and calling you a cheating whore :/

a long night

tw: physical abuse, very toxic relationships, connie’s calls reader all types of names. just mean

“no—no you think this shit is a fucking game, (name).”

connie’s grip on your arm is impossibly tight and at this point you don’t know what to do. you’ve been going back and forth with him for hours and he’s really not letting up. you’re tired and your arm hurts.

“can you fucking listen?! i swear if you don’t get the fuck off of me m’gonna—!”

connie’s twisting your body around and he’s in your face in a instant, pushing your back flat against your bedroom door you were just trying to open to get the fuck away from him.

sometimes you let yourself forget. you forget how dangerous connie really is. you forget. although he’s seems like a joking and lighthearted guy in people’s faces, he’s been fighting for years. he can really change his whole persona with one blink of an eye.

“you’re gonna what, (name)?” his jaw visibly clenches. “what the fuck are you gonna do ta me?”

he looks down at you and waits, like he really wants an answer to the question—

“c-connie i promise you…!”

“shut the fuck up!”

in a second you go from against the door to on the fucking floor, he pushes you hard and he means to do damage.

honestly this day couldn’t get any fucking worse.

you and connie actually started off good this morning. you woke up to him wrapped around you like a blanket before you guys got up and decided to make breakfast together. it had been sweet, sure it was basic. all you did was make pancakes together for heavens sake, but you’ve got to treasure that with a relationship like yours, it’s not often you have good morning together. most you’re already waking up with your gloves on ready to pounce. so of course you were greatful for the sweet acts this morning, too bad it didn’t last long. it wasn’t until later at about three o’clock, while you were getting ready to get a shower is when everything started.

“(n,n,)” connie calls into the bathroom swinging his keys around his finger and rushing to put a t-shirt on. “m’runnin out for a minute, you want me to pick up something?”

you were too busy getting all you shower stuff together to hear him of course, you guess that was your first mistake. he gets real mad at little shit like that.

“yo.”

not listening. you were too busy humming to yourself and looking down at your acrylics, need to book that appointment.

“(name!)” you heard that alright, no mistake. “what the fuck do you need from the store?”

you explained to him you don’t need anything, not before weakly defending yourself, telling him to stop fucking yelling. all he does is roll his eyes and search the place a little deciding himself what you need. he’s not about to go through this little annoying ass cycle like always. you say you don’t need shit then he leaves out and comes back and all the sudden everything’s popping in your dumb little head now. it pisses him off.

he starts with the kitchen. not much, probably some condiments, some of those like strawberry milk packs you like, and some more paper plates, you hate doing dishes. but God forbid you bring the ‘ugly’ paper plates, make sure to bring back those cute pink ones. he moves on to where you’re at the bathroom.

when he goes in there you’re still naked and humming to yourself while you look in the mirror spaced out. still not in the shower.

“watch out baby—”

“oh connie don’t worry about getting pads in stuff ok? don’t think i’ll need them in a minute.”

the words nearly fly over connie’s head until he really stops to think. ‘don’t think i’ll need them in a minute?’ what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

connie quickly gets irritated and worried, immediately jumping to all types of conclusions. honestly you’ve been with each other for too long. he should know by now how irregular your periods are, just shows how little he pays attention to you.

you try to explain it to him but connie’s making shit up in his own head, finding a solution in his own head.

you had went out last weekend right? yeah last weekend. he doesn’t know what the fuck it was for, maybe a girls night? he doesn’t fucking know, he knows he didn’t want you to fucking go though. you looked too fucking good. of course you being you trying to go out in your ‘sluttiest outfit’ as he’d say. he made you change like four times before getting pissed off and going home, cussing you out on the way out the door.

so what, you went out the other weekend, with your other slut friends and what now magically you just don’t have your period? you’re a fucking liar.

and once connie decides on something, it’s set in stone for him, no going back.

that shit started till three o’clock in the fucking afternoon and it’s twelve at night and you guys are still going.

you’re back where you were on the floor looking up at him with wide scared eyes, shocked by just how fast he gets mad.

“i don’t fuck anybody but you, you’re fucking crazy!”

“yeah, yeah?” he picks you up off the ground with just his one hand and drags you towards the bed, trying to straddle himself on you.

“get-get the fuck off connie,” here come the tears, you try your best to block his view from your face but he pins you on the bed and has both of your wrist with just one hand while he clenches his hand around your tear soaked face.

he’s all in your face yelling and it’s too much for you to take honestly, you break down even hard trying to push him away with all the strength you have but you just can’t.

“oh you’re fucking crying? you wanna fucking cry you fucking slut—?”

“st-stop calling me names connie! i didn’t fuck anyone else—“

you’re lying and he knows it. he swears if he looks at you any long he’s gonna slap the shit out of you. wouldn’t be the first time, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier. he gets off of you and watches you hop of the bed crying and shaking, immediately jumping up and doing everything you can to hurt him. it doesn’t do shit to him though, it just makes you look like a fucking idiot.

“you’re a fucking slut y’know that? know how fucking disgusted i am? my girlfriends a fucking cheating whore. a cheating pregnant whore.” you slap him. you don’t know how hard but your hand is stinging red it hurts. bad.

you’re still crying—sobbing when he looks down at you, a look of anger, disgust prominent on his face.

“couldn’t even use a fucking condom right? right you stupid bitch?!” he grabs both of your arms and drags you out the room, whispering you wanna keep fucking playing, to himself as you stumble behind him and try to regain your footing..

“where the fuck is your phone?” you’re still crying, you don’t even care anymore. all you wanna do is cry and role around on your floor and scream.

“g-get the fuck o-off, connie.” you try to move somewhere else but he’s got a tight grip on your little arm.

all you want to do is get away from him right now, so you grab the closet object to yourself with your free hand and repeatedly hit him with it. oh that gets him mad real quick. everything after that is a blur and by the time you’re fulling aware again, your lip is bleeding and your head is pounding. connie’s sitting on the crunch going through your phone. you look at the clock that reads 1:23am.

it’s gonna be a long night.

[rafesfavgirl]

texts with rafe cameron

just wanted to try something new :) enjoy this while i go finish up the jj fic i'm working on!!

pairing: toxic!rafe x toxic!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, swearing, suggestive dialogue

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

let me know if y'all want more of these!!

[circlebuttons]

Broken- Rafe Cameron x Toxic!Reader

I wanted to try and write a toxic reader fic but idk i might redo it

-

Rafe Cameron knows what it's like to be broken.

He knows what it feels like to always be hurting, and yet also be the villain, that's why he stays.

Rafe had gone out without you and his phone died, so he had no way to contact you halfway through his night out. He should've found a way to charge it or even started making his way home, all of this would've been avoided, he's beating himself up for letting this happen. He knows how worried you get about him and when his location stops updating and your calls go to voicemail what else can you do other than assume the worst.

He got home so late and you stayed up, unable to sleep with thousands of thoughts running through your head, you were drained. The exhaustion you feel is quickly replaced with anger as Rafe tries to quietly enter, stumbling over himself, phone in hand. He sobers up completely as soon as he makes eye contact with your fired glare.

"Hey baby" he speaks timidly as he leans down to kiss you, but as an instant reaction you put your hands on his chest and all of your weight into them, shoving him away from you and making him stumble backwards a bit. "Don't hey baby me asshole, where the fuck were you?"

"I went out with Kelce and Top, remember baby you said I could" he tries desperately to remind you of the conversation that happened prior, anything to try and prolong the explosion that he knows is bound to happen.

"I said you could go out with them not cheat on me, like what the fuck?" You whine, fighting back tears and quickly letting your anger blend into sadness.

"Baby please, it's not like that" he approaches you again with caution, holding your hands in his until you drop them down, crossing your arms instead.

You wipe your eyes and abruptly stop whining, exchanging it for a glare. "I don't believe you, your location is off and I called your phone a thousand times"

"My phone died I-" you lunge forward and snatch his phone

"If it powers on rafe I swear to god i'll fucking kill you" You scream at him, fumbling with his phone, hands trembling with anger. He chews on his lip in anticipation as you hold the power button. The phone powers on and you don't even wait to see the battery percentage at three percent, or wait to see it almost immediately shut itself back off, you just react. You throw his phone as hard as you can towards him, but he dodges it, making the phone spike the ground. he knows it's broken without even looking at it, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because you breakdown in front of him crying. You're crying because your constantly convinced and scared he's cheating on you, crying because you feel guilty about breaking his phone, and maybe even crying a little bit because its how you manipulate him, he's a sucker for your tears after all. "Do you want to break up with me?" you cry at him.

He rushes to your side, holding your head in his hands and wiping your tears softly, "No baby, of course not. I love you so much. I'm sorry I should've just came home so you wouldn't have had to worry." It's 2am and his phone is on the ground shattered, his body still holds the weight of the harsh slaps and pushes, yet he holds you as you cry.

You nod, agreeing with him. "You love me?" you ask pouting up at him.

"I do. I won't ever let my phone die again I'm sorry" he promises like he always does, always making and trying to upkeep the most outlandish promises if it meant making you happy.

You flash him a sweet smile and pull him into a hug that he quickly reciprocates. "It's okay Rafey, I forgive you. Im sorry about your phone"

He pulls back, smiling down at you, relieved that you’re back to your normal self again. "Don't be princess, I'll buy another, get you an upgrade too huh?"

[mr-wrinkleton]

FUNNY SEEING YOU HERE | TOWIC!FWB!CHRIS

pairing . . . toxic!fwb!chris x toxic!fwb!reader

in which . . . chris heads out for a night with just him and his friends when he bumps into a familiar face in the bathroom.

smoke like fog filled the atmosphere of the night, drunk party-goers and house rattling rap music filled the silence between the crickets chirping and the owls hooting from tree branch to tree branch. chris hadn’t even planned to go out that night. his week and entire day was shit. but maybe going out with some friends and getting drunk could ease the absolute migraine of a week he was going through.

conversation between the two of you was never dry though. although, not enough for chris to muster up the courage to ask if you would be attending this party he was currently taking shot after shot at.

if he was being so god honest with himself, he found it difficult to talk to you. the way you acted with your confident but also humble attitude made him nervous. almost as if he wanted to impress you.

however, the night went on, and chris still hadn’t seen you. maybe every time he entered a room you had just left the room. maybe it was the universe only slowly bringing the two souls together and have them lock eyes at the perfect time.

alcohol and weed eventually caught up to chris, his legs not working with his mind and the loudness of the whole place not helping.

“hey, i’m gonna use the bathroom man.” he muttered to his friend who was currently bent over the pool table, too focused to mind where chris was stumbling off to. he fumbled his way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to make sure nobody wasn’t in there as the door wasn’t locked fully.

when chris opened the door he barely noticed you. basically half naked. and by half naked, no shirt, just a bra. “oh, hey. funny seeing you here.” he said, almost as if he didn’t see anything weird about the situation. “holy shit, chris!” you yelled, covering yourself up with your shirt.

he finally noticed your half-naked-ness after a brief moment of you scolding him, “oh my god, quit yellin’. you act like i’ve never seen your tits before.” he took a stride over to the toilet, lifting the lid up with his foot before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, causing you to look away and finish changing your shirt.

“why the hell are you half naked in the bathroom?” he finally asked. mid piss. you rolled your eyes, fixing yourself again in the mirror, trying your hardest to ignore chris next to you. acting as if this was normal in any way. “some asshole spilled their drink on my shirt, had to come change.” you sighed.

the sound of the toilet flushing was heard throughout the bathroom. chris zipped up his pants and buckled his belt again, walking over to the sink where you stood and turned the water on. “now you know how i felt.” chris chuckled, squeezing some soap onto his hands as he spoke.

after chris finished washing his hands and dried them off, he walked over to you, he listened to you talk about how someone spilled their drink all over you. but at the same time mesmerized by the way you looked.

“he was so fucking rude about it too, i asked for an apology and—“ you rambled on and on, completely ignoring the way chris was staring straight into your eyes, then your lips, then your chest, back to your eyes once again.

suddenly in the midst of talking you feel the cool tile of the counter pressed up against your lower back. chris’ hands sliding up and down your hips, locking you between him and the counter.

“—so, uh, yeah, he didn’t even apologize for… it…” your words trailed off, completely getting lost in what you were saying when chris’ lips attached to your neck.

eventually gentle kisses led to small nips, little red marks left sporadically across your neck and lower chest. the little tank top you changed into was not much coverage over your chest.

chris could rip the damn thing off if he wanted to.

momentarily you stopped trying to talk for a moment, every movement chris made on you made you shiver and your mind blank. his hands moved to the belt loops of your jeans, tugging them, pulling you closer.

he groaned into your neck, muttering through kisses as your hands wandered up your back, scratching gently. “fuck, keep talking ma.” he groaned.

all his movements sent you into a spiral, the party still raving just outside the door.

it felt as if you blinked twice and your jeans were being tugged down eagerly by chris, whispering every praise in the book. lips still attached to your body. practically worshipping it.

before you had time to think chris turned you around, pushing you down over the counter. a muffled moan was earned. chris’ hands rubbed your back up and down, eventually pulling your panties down to just bellow your thighs.

and again, it seemed as if you blinked and he was unbuckling his belt. his cock hitting his belly button as he finally pushed his jeans off and to his lower thigh.

his chest hit your back, whispering softly into your ear, “you do shit to me,” he muttered, “i can’t fucking explain it.” as he spoke he grabbed a condom out of his pocket, tearing it open effortlessly with his teeth and rolling it on.

his words felt sharp, in a good way. it was a compliment in a way. his hands roamed your body as he talked, eventually making their way to your neck. and eventually traveling up to your jaw. he forced you to look in the mirror. your slightly open lips, your red neck. everything.

“look at you. so fucking gorgeous.” he said through groans.

“we met two months ago and i can’t get ya’ out of my damn head.” he admitted. his hand gripping your throat as you let out choked whines.

chris slowly teased the tip of his cock against your sopping cunt. your throat being squeezed gently. you watched your reaction in the mirror slowly slid inside of you. a smug and cocky grin on his face as he watched your face.

a moan threatened to escape, a loud one. his movements paused before whispering into your ear, “be quiet, don’t want nobody hearing huh?” you nodded, “yeah, just watch your pretty face while i fuck you, m’kay?”

“mm—m’kay…” you choked out, chris resuming his moments, slowly pushing into you from behind.

after some time, his movements picked up. you kept threatening to moan loudly, but chris pushed his finger into your mouth for you to bite.

chris kept picking up the pace, his tip pressing kisses against your cervix with every thrust. and you watched your face in the mirror, your hands gripping on the counter. choked whines and begs fell through your swollen lips.

“gonna— gonna cum—“ you said, well, more-so moaned. pretty loudly. to which chris gripped your face. “not till i say so.” he said through groans as well.

it was a while before you actually came. when you did it was pretty messy.

© mr-wrinkleton all rights reserved. ˖ ࣪⭑

a/n: so heyyyy,, new addition to the toxic chris au, and i’m dying rn i love him… 💔 but anyway this was kinda long so hope you don’t mind that LMAO

🏷️ : @courta13 @emely9274 @sturniolotoast

[minakooo]

Nurse! DK x Vampire! Reader

A.N: Okay soooo i have no idea what I wanna write but I'm going to be writing a lot of one shots and experiment because I wanna try and get out of my writers block.

Warnings: mentions of blood, biting, needles, feral reader, a bit suggestive, reader might be toxic, If I miss any I apologise!

Poor old you, who knew at your time of need your calls would be answered by a simple human?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Dokyeom, stay safe!" Vernon waved at Dokyeom, who was leaving the hospital to go home. Vernon was one of his colleagues but he worked as a receptionist while DK worked as a nurse. Some might say he should've gone and been a doctor but he was fine with his job, it really wasn't different in his eyes.

"I will!" Dokyeom replied back with a smile on his face. He loved his job regardless even if it was tiring.

The hospital is his second home. He's worked here for years now and he's comfortable, plus the pay is nice, the environment is perfect and the work load surprisingly isn't much. It's always been peaceful and it always stays that way, except today was the busiest day ever.

.

Tonight was exhausting, multiple deaths all because of one thing. Blood loss. Completely sucked dry patients who couldn't be saved even if they reached the hospital on time and all of them had bites marks on their necks. Police said it's connected to the house break-ins but some local aunties say it's a demon.

Dokyeom sighed as he sat down on the driver's seat of his car. The only thing he heard was ringing in his ears. Everything that happened, it wasn't easy to continue your day after seeing multiple people cry and go crazy. But he still had a life outside of work. After a few seconds of silence he decided to start up the car and get ready to drive back home, lay down on his comfortable bed and go on with his night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

God. Oh fucking god. This shit wasn't worth it. Nah ah, "Be a vampire it'll be so fun!" "Humans are easy to kill!" Bullshit!

You groaned as your stomach ached in hunger. This fucking sucked because you had expected to find a victim easily but ho ho ho, not a single human came in sight. The only people you saw were the police, you would go after them but they had guns and you were still a newly turned vampire.

"Hunt at night my ass." You scoffed as you remembered the suggestion that a certain vampire friend of yours, Mingyu, gave you. As a new vampire you asked Mingyu a lot of questions on how to hunt, how to stay fed, etc; because he's been a vamp longer than you. What you didn't realise is that the people here would notice and start a whole case. The worst part was finding a new place to hunt. It isn't easy not when a lot of vampires are territorial.

You clenched your jaw before wrapping your arms around your stomach to try and soothe the pain, but it was useless. Your legs were already giving up on you. You had to act fast, and without a second thought you rushed over to a nearby house.

You collapsed outside near the back door, it didn't take you long before you passed out. The last thing you heard was a cat parking near the house.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dokyeom parked his car and quickly pulled the car keys out. It was already late now, he left around 12:00 am but since the hospital is a bit far he reached around 12:55 am.

He ran his fingers through his hair then moved his hands to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Home sweet home." He chuckled as he picked up his stuff and opened the car door. Everything looked fine, no sign of entry or damage. Maybe the criminal because of the police?

He didn't think much of it as he walked over to the front door and unlocked it. The house was quiet; it was always quiet at home. Dokyeom inspected the place for a bit just to make sure nothing really happened to the house while he was gone. When everything looked okay Dokyeom simply placed his bags down on the sofa and left to take a shower.

.

Some time later he came downstairs, his hair still wet from taking a shower and now he was wearing casual clothing; his uniform for work was thrown in the washing to clean later.

He went straight to the kitchen and quickly made a sandwich for himself before he would go to bed. But while cutting some tomatoes he heard something or someone from outside. No one in their right mind would be awake at this hour so what the hell was that noise from outside his backdoor?

"Is anyone there! Hello?" Dokyeom whispered shouted as he carefully took a few steps to his kitchen's back door. If he had to be honest, he was a bit scared right now.

He hesitated for a bit before he swung his backdoor open and froze.

[Thud]

Dokyeom looked down at his feet and his heart sank when he saw a lifeless(?) body on the concert floor.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

You slowly opened your eyes and when you awoke you were reminded of the pain that had previously led you to pass out. "Ugh.." You heard a person groaning and then you felt a sharp sting in your arm, an injection, your eyes jolted open.

"Who are you?!" You sat up and immediately jumped on the random person. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to help!!" You growled as you looked down at the man.

Dokyeom was terrified, even more when you saw your fangs. What the fuck was happening right now?! He tried to push you off but you were too strong.

"I said, who are you."

Dokyeom felt his breath hitch when he felt your sharp nails on his adams apple. He stared at you with both fear and vulnerability. But all you could see was a victim, one that ended up pricing an injection into your body.

"My name is Dokyeom! I work as a nurse at the nearby hospital! Please let me go!" Dokyeom was only supposed to reveal his name but he revealed more information than needed. Though, a nurse, a hospital, this human had access to blood.

Your nails trailed down his adams apple to his chest as you pressed them down to slightly stab into him. "Why did you take me?" Your voice roared in the living room and it almost seemed like he whimpered before he stuttered a reply.

"You were unconscious next to my backdoor! I got worried.." He closed his eyes expecting you to hurt him or kill him, but you scoffed at him. "That must be a joke. Do you know what I am human? A vampire. A demon. A creation of Dracula."

Holy shit the aunties were right.

You snarled your fangs at him but groaned, the hunger was killing you. You needed blood and this human looked so delicious, handsome even, he smelled like..honey?

"If you stay still I might let you live." You held his face tightly, squeezing his cheeks as he nodded quickly. You could hear his heart racing and you could just feel the anxiety in him. In mere seconds you leaned his head back and sunk into his neck.

He gasped loudly, Dokyeom was shaking in fact as you drank his blood.

God, god it was delicious. It tasted better than you most humans oh they all tasted the same but this nurse, this sweet nurse tasted like honey and strawberries. The whole time you didn't realise that you were pressing your body against his. His blood brought you pure ecstasy and you licked up the blood that was slipping down his neck.

Dokyeom was going crazy, the pain was driving him crazy, how close your blood pressed against his, the licking, why was it getting so hot?

You chuckled as he leaned back from his neck and looked at him proudly and with excitement. "You might feel a few things. That happens to humans, happens to vampires as well. "Say, you're open to try new things right?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

EEHHHHHH I DON'T KNOW IF THIS WAS GOOD. I WANNA MAYBE TRY AND MAKE A PART 2 THOUGHHH

Tell me your guys' thoughts on this fic and if I should make a part two!

[freakywrites]

hello there, I’m unsure if you’re taking requests, but if you are might I request a Kanato Sakamaki x reader?

Maybe like headcannons of him in a relationship with a very caring, nurturing reader, or you could do the complete opposite, and make reader judgmental and cruel (kind of like Kanato). If reader was cruel, I feel like that would be a great way to get revenge against all the trauma Kanato’s caused. (Either one is good and you don’t even have to do this, I just really like Kanato (because he’s so deceptively adorable, even if he absolutely despises me/yui/reader) He and Azusa are my favorite Diabolik characters.)

Of course, you don’t have to do that and if you don’t want to do Kanato you could replace with one of the other Diabolik Lover’s characters. (Like the Mukami family or one of the other family names I can’t remember).

—just another anon 🌟

IM SO SORRY I JUST SAW YOUR ASK!

Also those two are my favs too! Anyways here ya go.

Hot and cold

Kanato Sakamaki x reader head canons

Warning: unedited

~~~~~~~

As warm as fresh blood

He likes it when you play with his hair as he lays on your lap.

He loves when you praise him and beg for him.

You calm him with soft whispers and tender kisses to his cheeks and head.

When you let him play with you, dancing you around to no music but just his hums.

He loves it when he thinks he’s in control.

Loves when you love him and only him.

He loves that you only have eyes for him to only look at him and nobody else.

“I know you’re upset, Kanato, but you’re doing so well. Just hold it in a little longer, and we’ll go, ok?” You said holding the man’s shaking hand. “but they’re so loud can’t we just go home? I’m tired!” He whines, and you lay your head on him before speaking. “you can’t keep getting absences, you know~ I’m here with you anyways” you said, rubbing circles on his arm and giving him a quick kiss on the back of his palm. “Fine but only because Teddy agrees with you” he pouts, and you giggle “thank you, Teddy, sounding considerate of Kanato.” You said cheerfully.

As cold as a corpse

He can’t help but worry when you ignore him.

He begs for you just to look at him to give him his attention.

But all he gets is a violent shove or kick.

He lays his head on your lap just for you to swat him away in disgust.

He would rather you hit or cut at him than you ignore him.

His angerly yells, turning to begs when he gets tired, then soon to sobs of desperate pleading just for you to acknowledge him.

He offers you his teddy just to get any reaction, but nothing seems to work.

“Look at me, look at me damn it!” Kanato yelled at you, and you still don’t budge “are you deaf why are you ignoring me?!” He said, stomping closer to you “hey hey!” He said sitting on the floor putting his hands on you knees and you glare down at him grabbing his hand and pushing them away from you “ugh get off your like a pathetic dog get away from me” you said turning away from him and his eyes began to water. “I-I I’m not pathetic! What did I do? Was it because I yelled at you? It was an accident” he began to spiral “please just hold me again. I don’t know what I did I’m…. I’m sorry” he mumbled, and you shuffled to look at him “say that again…” You spat, and his eyes lit up “Im sorry!” He said quickly, and you smiled and sighed “well if you are… that’ll be it” you said, rubbing his head.

You are back to warm, back to giving him kisses on his eyelids and cupping his face, apologizing for your actions, giving him the illusion of affection.

Because while you do love him, you love him more when he is desperate you love when he is wrapped around your fingers.

——————————

N/A

I didn’t know what to choose to I chose both a x reader where reader is toxic loves to bring him up high only to crash him down then repeat! Isn’t that fun!

Anyways don do that to ppl cuz it’s like crazy

Also I feel the only way to be cruel to Kanato is not violence but to give and take from him he seems like the person who gets used to affection so if u keep giving and taking he will soon adapt and become desperate for it probably like when you ignorea child or something. Sense to me, he is very childish.

Ok bye bye love yall XOXO 💋💋💕💕

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Happy Anniversary!

Toxic!Russell Adler x Toxic!F!Reader

Ah, what's married life without a little toxicity? (Pretty good, allegedly.)

It's your twentieth wedding anniversary, and Adler seems to have forgotten all about it. However, you are the perfect match to his toxic nature, and are going to make sure that he makes up for it... and then some.

'"Divorce" and "therapy" are for normal people' - reader, probably

God, you should leave him. You should. You will, this time. You will. You won’t pick up the phone, call back the attorney’s office and cancel your appointment do discuss beginning divorce proceedings against your husband. You won’t, not this time. 

He knows that you’ve made it. Yet another appointment, with yet another attorney. You’d made sure of it, by leaving a scattered mess of business cards out on the hallway table - a fallen snow of lawyers, specialising in family affairs. Which specific one you’d ended up going to, didn’t matter. What did, is that Russell Adler knew, beyond any doubt, that you’d gone to one.

When he gets in from work (late, past dinner late… again), he sees them immediately. He doesn’t say anything to you, sat on the stairs at the end of the hall. He simply brushes them off the table, spreading them out across the floor, before walking over them as he heads for the coat rack. He changes his jacket and his shoes, still neither of you saying anything, even as you refuse to move so he can sit, which would make putting his shoes on easier.

He manages despite your cruelty, and turns to leave again, pausing at the door. Russell makes sure that you see him light up a cigarette, while he’s still inside, in your hallway. He ignores how you respond, by opening the bottle of whiskey in your hand, and tossing the lid-cork thing at his retreating back. It bounces off the hallway floor, but still stops short of the front door, now once again closed, with you left alone behind it.

You stand, finish walking down the stairs and start to drink. 

Him and his stupid fucking job. Him, and his stupid fucking devotion, body and rotten soul, to an equally rotten government. He’d sooner ball up and make love to an American flag, than he would to you.

At this point in your marriage, after twenty fucking years, there was nothing good, nothing healthy, left between the two of you. If there ever had been. Everyone you knew said you should leave - for both of your sakes. By staying, all you were doing was burning each other up, tearing out pieces of each other’s flesh, pound for pound, and if you didn’t stop now, you’d both end up dead.

The first time you’d talked about leaving him, no one had got it. They’d said, oh well, he doesn’t hit you, he doesn’t cheat on you, he gives you a lot of money, (emphasis on ‘a lot’, meaning, not as much as ours give us), you don’t have to work, you get your own house to lie about in all day; and you always complain about how he’s never around, surely that’s a good thing if you hate him so much?

That had been the only time you’d actually been serious about divorcing him. You’d ignored everyone’s cautioning about it, what it would do to your reputation, socially, how you had no real cause, that legally, you had to be able to prove fault on his side; and gone to see an attorney anyway. Then, some pimple faced, fresh out of school upstart told you exactly how much goddamn money it would cost to do that, so you’d reconsidered your options, and stayed. Over the years, the people around you saw you changing, and realised they probably shouldn’t have stopped you leaving. Most thought that they probably should have helped you then, and even though they hadn’t, they could help you now – you were in California, you could go for no fault divorce, if you wanted.

Those three words were the kicker. Because now, you didn’t. Talking divorce was an empty threat; simply your way of communicating that you needed something from him. 

It’s not like he was any better than you. He would (sometimes literally) throw money at you, then smile and pat your head, like you were a fucking dog, and the wad of notes had fixed everything. Like all your marriage boiled down to was a series of threats and exchanges, trade between two independent, completely self-interested parties that just happened to be inescapably, legally bound to each other. 

You say all that, but it sure felt good to spend it, though. And, he was a free man too. If he didn’t want to stay, he didn’t have to.

After a last swig or two, you abandon the whiskey (typically his drink) and go in search of your own, something a deal more civilised in your own opinion. It just so happened that when you abandon the whiskey, the bottle is lying on its side over the sink, all pouring out. A complete accident, you swear. 

A good, cheap beer is more your thing. Not a dirt-cheap beer, like the stuff college students pool together their last dollars for; but something that, when drunk cold, tastes decent enough by your standards, and cheap by Russell’s. Which is really the whole point. You don’t care about what you drink, just that you get drunk, and when (if) he gets home, he has to taste some ‘cheap shit’ on his wife’s lips and not complain about it. God, what about this do other people not get? How can they not get that this is what works for you, what makes you feel alive? 

You wander from room to room as you drink, upstairs, downstairs, back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room to the lounge, to your office, then upstairs again, roaming between the bedrooms, second sitting room, and shaking the handle of the door to his office - locked, like always. You leave the empty cans on the floor where you finish drinking them, only taking breaks to stare at the nearest clock as you will for time to start passing by faster. Just for you, you know? As a treat?

You get restless when you’re angry. All this energy, and you don’t know what to do with it. 

You want to break something. 

You head down into your basement, one last can of beer in hand. You open it, then leave it on the stairs as you drag out one of your most prized possessions: a cardboard box full of already damaged chinaware, that had no purpose beyond being thrown away. In fact, that’s how you’d gotten it, by persuading your neighbour to give it to you, rather than throwing it out, with some pretty story about how you made art out of broken things, (the five dollars hadn’t hurt either), allowing you to stow the unassuming box down here in the cool concrete box underneath your floors.

It was the perfect place, to take already broken shit and break it further, by hurling the chipped ceramic against the walls, and losing yourself in the body shaking laughter as you watch it shatter. After a while, you get tired of it, and sit back on the stairs, taking delight in your last, forgotten beer, sipping it slowly as you contemplate whether or not you should go walk bare foot through the mess, make him find you when he gets home, make him take you to hospital and put his lying to good use, for once, that he’s a loving, caring husband who’s clumsy wife dropped a cup and trod on the broken pieces in a panic. 

You lean against the wooden panelled wall, face hurting with the smile of how much you’d enjoy seeing him squirm under a doctor’s inquisition, only to hear the rumble of a car pulling into your drive way. 

One last swig of beer and you’re done. You toss the can across the room, wincing as it dings like a bell against the wall, then clatters unceremoniously down among the rest of the mess. You go up the stairs, two at a time, and emerge into the kitchen at the same time the front door closes.

“What time do you call this?” You pick up the now nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and turn it upright on the counter.

“Good time.” He calls back, his shoes thudding as he takes them off and drops them on the hallway floor, rather than putting them away. 

“Do you really?” You try to round the corner into the hallway, only to bump into him as he tried to do the inverse. You both stand there for a minute, then you give him way, both of ending up in the kitchen, leaning on either side of the table. 

“Yeah.” He takes the bottle of whiskey and swigs meagrely at what’s left, mouth stretched in a tight line. 

“On today of all days?”

“What day?” He glances at the calendar. “Valentine’s was last week. You making up another anniversary on me?”

“Not making it up.” You point to the picture above the calendar - the only decent photo to come out of your wedding, with the date embossed along the bottom of the frame.

“Oh.” He sips again. “We’ve been married long enough that only the big one’s matter, right?”

“It is a big one.” You bite back a smile, feeling like you just burst his balloon, loopholed his own logic.

He sighs and reached into his jacket, taking out a wad of cash. The clip scraps against the wooden table as he shoves it at you. “There.”

You scoop up the wad, shaking it back at him. “You can’t give me money like it’s going to fix this.”

“But it will, though.” He finishes the bottle of whiskey. “Go buy new clothes, a car, a goddamn house. Whatever will shut you up.”

You advance on him around the table, pulling the money out of the clip, tossing the metal pin back at him. It thuds softly against his jacket, before clattering down on the tiles between his feet. “You think I’m that easy to buy?”

You say, but you’re leafing through the notes, counting the hundreds quickly to a thousand, two, and you’ve barely made a dent in it when he sets the bottle down and advances right back at you, shoulders back, arms wide. “You’d stay for a lot less than that. This is generosity.”

He called you cheap. CHEAP! You should hit him for that. Instead, you furl the notes into a roll in your hand, and leap into his arms. He kisses you, then recoils from the flavour of your mouth, so you can chase him, and be the one to make husband and wife kiss. 

He lets that be as it may, before he’s the one to cage you against the wall; then you’re the one who threatens to ruin his beloved jacket if he doesn’t take you up to bed. He’s the one to oblige, half leading, half guiding you upstairs and into your marital nook, then you’re the one who shoves his jacket off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor rather than hanging it up nicely. 

He’s the one to pull you down on the bed, you’re the one to rip the collar of his shirt, he’s the first to swear; you pull those fucking sunglasses off this face and toss them somewhere behind you, kissing him again, making him let you see his eyes. He responds by flicking his hand under your waistband, sliding down and cupping his hand over your cunt, grinning as he leans down to your ear, telling you that at least your body still recognises that he’s your husband. You reach up, threading your fingers through his hair, then pull, so hard he has to crane his head back, hissing through his teeth as you spit on his scar, eyes glazing as you watch your saliva drip off his chin, and not at all because his fingers are circling your clit; before he sits up, tugging your pyjama shorts down, until you lift your leg, lock it around his arm and tell him, “you first.”

He obliges, continuing your effort of destroying his perfectly good shirt, the loud tear down the front hiding the muttered comment that the replacement is going to come out of your allowance. His jeans and briefs follow, and you’re treated to the view that only you and all his fellow soldiers are treated to – a reminder that no matter what airs he puts on, Russell Adler is a man made of flesh and blood, as flawed and fucked up, if not more so, as the rest of us. Definitely a man too, the way he hides his soft cock from you beneath the bunched sheets, nodding for you to get your shirt off too, after you release his arm. 

You oblige, since he did so nicely, and he hides his groan when he sees your tits. He’s lucky to see them even once more, as he dips a finger inside your cunt, meeting your eyes as you silently mock him that, really? You think that does it?

He feeds two fingers into you, neglecting your clit as ever, other fingers scraping against your pubes, keeping any choice comments about it to himself – if he’s even got the brain space to think about it, as you see the bulge rising beneath the sheets bundled at his crotch, the prospect of real intercourse actually, finally, making you excited. 

Your cunt tightens around Adler’s fingers when his knuckles graze over your clit, before he ruins it by moving you, tilting your hips up over his knees, prodding his cock at your hole, staring you down like he’s daring you to tell him to wear a condom. 

You don’t care for that now, just for him to hurry up and fuck you - the exhaustion is suddenly catching you, and you would really just like to cum before you go to sleep. Even if you have to get up and go into the bathroom to finish the job yourself.

Though, you might not have to – for once. There’s a boiling heat inside you, coiling out from where his cock is sunk into your cunt. It has a chokehold on your lungs, making your breath stutter, the half formed words you try to make are falling apart on your tongue, your eyes glazing over as he multitasks, working both your clit and cunt at the same time (honestly, revolutionary for him, it almost makes you want to ask him who he’s been practicing on), as you cry out, his dick settling deep inside you, a smile playing on his lips when you kiss him. 

Your fingers feel the upturned corners of his lips, and you dig your nails into them as he leans over you, still determinedly thumbing at your clit even as his arm gets sandwiched between your bodies, rutting against each other. He grunts into your mouth, and it’s your turn to recoil. God, cigarettes make a man taste awful. You can’t even push through it now, not with how tight your body’s strung. He’s winding you up, like always, but with his cock, waiting for you to snap –

And you do. In your own bed, for once. He cums too, when, you’re not sure, and where, you don’t care, as long as it’s not on the sheets. It’s not like it’s staying inside you, not after you’ve peed and cleaned yourself up, lingering in the bathroom even after you’ve changed into new pyjamas, fixed your hair and brushed your teeth; before dragging yourself back to your bedroom, choosing to ignore the not so faint smell of smoke, and how Russell is closing the barely open window, as you retrieve your money, folding the stack of notes over and tucking it away into the drawer on your night stand. 

You get into bed, back turned to him as he gets in behind you. He faces you at first, leaning over the pillows to murmur, “happy anniversary,” before rolling over and turning off the light.

“Yourself.” You respond in the darkness, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes, marvelling at how that was the most civilised conversation you’ve had in years. 

You sleep in the next day. After staggering down the stairs at a time that resembles lunchtime more than breakfast time, the phone rings. 

“Hello? This is Morrison and Hamble…”

“Ah, yes.” You interrupt the secretary on the other end. “I’m so sorry, I should have called sooner. I need to cancel my appointment.”

“Oh.” She sounded surprised, but caught herself. “That is not a problem, Mrs Adler. I do just have to inform you, that due to the late nature of this request, you will still be charged for Mr. Hamble’s time…”

“Not a problem, at all. I completely understand.” You sigh, shifting the receiver to your other ear, reaching into your dressing gown pocket. “Please offer my deepest apologies to him. My husband and I sat down and worked things out.”

“Just to confirm, you won’t dispute this charge, ma’am?”

“I will not.” You pulled out the roll of ten thousand dollars he’d given you. “I realise now, that I can’t put a price on my marriage.”

“Ah… that’s good.” She sighs on the other end of the line. “If that’s all then, Mrs Adler, I’ll let you get back to your day.”

“Yes, thank you. Again, I am sorry for not calling earlier.”

“Not a problem, Ma’am. Have a nice day.”

Click.

Normally, you’d be writing a complaint in to the firm, about the lack of friendliness in their customer facing staff. Today, however, you had ten thousand dollars in your pocket, and a window in front of you that looked straight out straight onto to your deck. Sorely old, in need of replacing. Improving, might be a better term. A covered deck, maybe a linen tent, or a pergola covered in clematis. Whatever you wanted, really. Those were his words, exactly. Or, mostly. In spirit.

And, you wanted a goddamn deck.

Make a great story to tell, when you’re hosting this summer; that it’s the deck that saved your marriage. 

You trample down the hallway, trying to remember where you left the phone book, suddenly reaching out for the wall when you stepped on something sharp. 

One of the business cards from yesterday. You sigh, and stop to pick them all up, straightening the bent corners before tucking them away in a mostly even bundle, ready and waiting for when you would need them again. In a month, three, six. Whenever you get bored of your new deck. 

[thebrothel]

bedtime

raider Joel x f reader

by sweet pea who is mad at toxic over this.

You're in bed and Joel fucks you and it feels really good and it's his favorite thing to do. The scar on his eyebrows looks really hot as he hovers over you.

He pauses with his cock all the way inside. With any luck you'll have it inside all night after he cums.

He looks at you for a long time and says, "I secretly have feelings for you, sweet pea," then starts moving his hips again. "I can't reproduce, but sometimes I wish I could fill you up with all my sperms. Maybe if I put enough cum in you, a sperm will slip through one day."

"I'm flattered but I like not having to worry about getting pregnant."

"you're right, I was thinking with my balls. you're smart, sweet pea. that's one reason I secretly have so many feelings for you."

He cums and I say "it feels so good when you fill me up with all your spermless cum. In another life, I would gladly accept your seed."

----

----

[brainr0t-landfill]

🌃 Mercurial Masterlist 🌃

About: Ghoap x male reader

Reader: Male, very vauge descriptions

T.W List: Unhealthy relationship, kidnapping, obsessive behaviour, unreliable narrator, self-hatred, (always check chapter tags please)

Status: Ongoing

Inspiration: @peachesofteal (Dead Disco<3)

Old game, new rules

Chapter One: Abstain

Chapter Two: Hunger

Chapter Three: Devour

Chapter Four: Nasuea

Chapter Five: Restless

[newkatzkafe2023]

Male Holli Would X Sadistic Female Manga artist reader

(Name) Y/N L/N Deebs later Y/N L/N Would

(Age) 20

(Gender) Female

(Occupation) Manga Artist

Appearance

You are a 5'9 female with (e/c) and long (h/c). Your a Curvy young Women your mostly seen in puck-ish street wear, you also wear baseball Caps and Sneakers. You also like to put on lipgloss and pink nail polish. When out in the club you wear

Personality: You Ms thing are a Sociopath and dirty rotten women. You are manipulation, Tricky, Sleazy, untrustworthy, and very Vague. Like your so good at lying that you can make it look like it was the other person's decision. You are are quite spoiled Considering you are younger than Your Brother Jack and are Very intelligent so you can easily get what you want. You can be Arrogant and Cocky when push comes to shove and you can be short-tempered when things don't go according to plan. You also have some child-like moments especially when Watching old Cartoons like Looney tunes or Betty Boop. Your Also Amazing at finding a Liar Since your good at being one so their no tricking or lying to you. You also Can be sarcastic and jaded as you had a pretty rough beginning before being adopted, and finally you have some Narcissistic Traits and love Torturing people especially your brother and other Noids and doodles.

Relationships:

Jack Deebs: He's your Adopted Brother, Emphasis on adopted. To you he's your Punching bag, Lackey, Errand Boy and sometimes wallet. He was never a Brother to you. you and Holli use and Abuse him for your own Benefit. Now you wouldn't say you hate him but you clearly don't think Much of him and Only see him as a tool and someone you can torture

Holli Would: Now Honestly you to get along Amazingly. You both have similar interests and ambitions and want in on the other's life. Sure you didn't trust her as far as you can throw a picture of her but, it's not all terrible. You both learn from each other as well like she taught you how to Dance and you taught her how to Scam some people for Money. You both don't think Much of your Brothers and she understands how Clingy and Needy her Twin brother is especially when he's in-love.

Hal E Would: OK SO GET THIS You knew Hal as long as you can remember wonder why because he's the main Character to your the Manga series HIMBO. This guy has made you very Famous for his looks and his Shenanigans fueled by Stupidity. Since you hate men his Manga is a series of ways to torture and humiliate him on the daily basis and became very popular for Is feminist and female divorcees but received backlash for males. Now you never dreamed of meeting him in real life but it's been a Nightmare He's Annoying, loud, flirty, Needy and Blindly in love with you. Finally he gets in the way of everything You need to ditch Him at Once before something unfortunate happens to you.

Detective Frank Harris: Yo this guys is a fun sponge let me tell you that. He always bugging you and telling you things you could careless about. Even though you took note on somethings he said that actually sound important like that laws of cool world he keeps bringing up. He still annoys you and you hate him because he's a bossy uptight man but you Tolerate him more than your Jack and Hal.

Hal and Holli's Doodle Goons: You and Jack remember drawing these guys but they listen to you more then they listen to Jack.

Catchphrase: Do We have a Deal?😈

Trivia Fact:

Well You remember Holli Would is the main Antagonist well your the Secondary Antagonist in this Story you already know that your a Lousy person

Holli wants to be a Noid

While your Goal is to become a Doodle

You hate men because of the bad relationships you had and the fact that you were abandoned

Because you watch alot of Cartoons you sometimes say things or act like the Characters you saw on television. Although you grew out of it but it happens for time to time.

You are a Foodie so when you get back to the real world you take Holli and Hal to a bunch of Restaurants and food Festivals

You don't use Curse words unless your truly fed up with a Situation

You and Holli both Dislike your Brothers and think of them as tools

Your Theme Songs:

Leave comments please and tell me what you think of your character🥺

[sorcerous-caress]

former anon that asked for the bitchy oath-breaker paladin now asking for… wyll with a body 2 vampire lady 😩

A vampire Tav might actually be the end of Wyll, that man will die happily just to know you were well-fed and happy.

At first he was cautious of you, he has encountered vampires in the past and he knew they don't have a soul, they don't love or feel joy.

And maybe he is right, maybe deep down vampire tav is just as power obsessed as he first thought they were, just as cruel and cold. But they're good at pretending, at faking having a soul, at masquerading as a mortal.

And Wyll is none the wiser when he falls for your faux vulnerability and fragile heart act. Every so clueless as you easily string him a long, get him all wrapped around your little finger.

His neck is all yours, his blood soley belong to you. It's the closest a vampire will ever get to true love, to completely own someone, heart, body and soul.

Those delicious sounds he makes when you bite him, the way he breathlessly tells you to take more, to satiate your thirst. How willing he is to be your source of life no matter the hour.

Yet another parasite remains, an inferal tangy test that always followed at the aftermath of his blood, as sour as a rotten lemon.

Only after dealing with that hellish pest, did you start realising how attached you were getting to your new pet. What started as easy food, slowly developed into pure possessiveness.

The idea of turning his crossed your mind more than you cared to admit. But why did your heart twist when you saw his genuine smile whenever you went up to him? Why did your nose scrunch whenever he called your name so earnestly.

Why did your tongue feel heavy whenever you were about to weave another lie?

For the first time in thousand of years, a forgotten feeling somehow followed you from your grave. The anguish of guilt. The curse of a conscious.

It can't be, you thought, you must be imagining it. He is just one pathetic human, you've had many greater lovers before.

But none like him, never like him. And just the idea of his smile turning into a sneer of disgust once he sees past your veil, instilled fear into you, one you haven't felt since that night you overthrew your previous master.

And maybe in a twist of fate, Wyll has been seeing past the veil since the start.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

His hips stutter, the rhythm messy now, almost frantic, like he’s trying to fuck the apology into you.

You've been fighting with him all night. Started small- he got blood on the floor. Got worse when he confessed exactly whose blood it was.

A young charming friend of yours. Sweet boy. You hardly knew him, but you knew enough. Enough to share a few drinks with him in the morning. Remmick would find out. He always finds out. You were lucky he didn't turn you the moment he considered you his own. His family. His. His. His.

"Come on, darlin’," he breathes against your ear, voice gravel-thick and cracking at the edges. "You’re not still mad at me, yeah? You can’t be. Not when I’m- mph- deep inside you like this."

He breathes hot in the crook of your neck- marks mottled on your delicate throat. A few puncture marks or two from his leftover anger, when he had you face down in the sheets. Now all that's left is his desperation.

You say nothing. Your nails bite into his shoulder, and the sharp pain only makes him moan, needy and almost pathetic.

“You’re killin’ me here,” he pants. “Won’t even look at me.” He grabs your jaw- rough and insistent, making you face him even though your glare could cut through steel. “Still got that damn attitude. Thought you were over this.” He scoffs, laughs light, like he can't believe what he's hearing. But his voice breaks.

You clench around him, and he groans like it hurts.

“Oh shit, yeah- do that again, I’ll do whatever you want. Beg if I gotta,” he growls, still thrusting hard, but his rhythm’s off, needy now. “Wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, baby. You know that.”

You turn your face away again, and something cracks. Not in his voice- in his ego.

“You’re mine,” he spits, patience worn, pride bruised. “Look, I know I messed up," He grits out. "Yeah, I tore out his pretty little throat, but I’m here, ain’t I? Givin' you everything I got."

He's huffing, gripping you tighter when he remembers just why you two are in this predicament. You feel his claws tangle in your hair, tugging gently. Just to show you he needs you.

"Wanna know the best part?" he murmurs against your neck, lips ghosting along your skin. His voice shifting sweetly to that infuriating 'im-not-mad-just-disappointed' tone. "Got his blood under my fingernails still."

Then- without warning, he slips two fingers between your lips. Forces them in, until you're gagging around the metallic tang and sharp nails.

"Wanna taste?" He adds after the fact, sarcastic. One half bitter, one half pleased with himself.

You moan around them, eyes wide and watering. He’s still fucking you, deep and relentless, watching your face as you suck his fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

His hand slides down to your thigh, pulling it higher up his waist. The angle makes you gasp- he notices.

"Yeah? That feel good?" His lips brush your jaw, trembling. "Still mad, baby? Still hate me?" He growls out. Depraved.

You still don’t answer, but your glare is wiped- eyes rolled back into your skull. Back arched, soft whimpers around his fingers. He observes you, scans you over, and finally loosens his hold just a little.

"Please," he mutters, and it’s real this time- raw, low, like it’s costing him everything to say it. "Please, darlin’. I don’t wanna live in a world where you hate me. Don’t- don’t do that to me."

His pace slows, not stopping, just grinding deep and hard, and his lips press to your neck like a prayer.

"I’m yours, alright? Just say the word. I’ll crawl, beg, bleed. You want me on my knees? Say it. I’ll worship the ground you walk on. Forever." He pleads, hips stuttering as he tries to stop himself from cumming. As he tries to convince you this is for you.

Then, cocky again for half a second, he mutters against your neck- the one condition.

"Long as you keep stayin' with me. Just me. Just like this."

[softaestluv]

next | mlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ | toxic simon, fwb, mixed communication, a lil angst

Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but when he is fucking you he doesn’t take his eyes off your face, drinks in every pretty reaction you give him when he’s tucked right against the spot he knows makes your lashes flutter and breath hitch.

‘That the spot? Yeah, baby? Look s’pretty under me.’

Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but smiles at you because he can’t help it when your reactions are so cute, when you nod so pleased at him with pursed brows as you orgasm for the second time.

‘There we go, sweet girl. Gonna cum wrapped ‘round me?’

Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but he doesn’t let you muffle any of your moans because you sound too fucking pretty whiny and breathy.

‘No, no, none of that, sweet’art. Wanna hear you, sound too pretty to hide it from me.’

Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but tangles his fingers in yours the entire time, keeps your palms pressed together in any position, squeezing your hand through it.

‘I know, baby, I know. I got you.’

Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but he’s possessive over you— ‘my, my, my.’

‘My pretty little dove.’ ‘My sweet girl.’ ‘All mine.’

And because he’s so cruel he makes you say it— ‘Only mine, yeah, baby? Wanna hear you say it.’

But still, after he’s done breaking you down and putting you back together piece by piece with such warm palms, soft eyes, and sugar-spun words he cleans you up before tucking himself back into his pants, and leaves you like it meant nothing to him until the next time he texts you for more.

[mintfullyyours]

Thinking about patching up ex-husband Simon Riley. He comes in with the cloak of darkness not close to sunrise, a witching hour of sorts. Three slow deliberate knocks on the other side of your door. No more and no less. Staring at the mahogany frame, you could ignore him. It would be for the best.

But ghosts tend to haunt all night.

So you'll let him in.

You always do.

Bloodied knuckles with a nasty gash on his upper eyebrow. He'll hoist you onto the bathroom countertop with your legs spread as he steps between them. Firm hands grip your waist, grounding you in your stupid decision to let your ex back into your life. Again. He doesn't flinch as you swipe the alcohol soaked towel over his eyebrow wound. Determined eyes search your face in hopes you'll crack under his gaze.

"Ask me what happened." He whispers.

"No." you dab the towel more firmly on his eyebrow as it soaks the raging red liquid.

Simon grabs your wrist and leans down, his lips pressing into the shell of your ear. "Really?" Your heart pounds in your chest, as your body betrays you for your ex -- feeling a heat set every fiber of you ablaze. His teeth grazing your skin as he noses his way down the column of your neck and breathes in your unyielding scent. He knew the effect he still had on you and you hated yourself for it.

"Birdie really doesn't wanna know what I did to that bloke you went out with last week?"

part 2 here!!!