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#tw: sanity questioning
g0thicf0xskulls · 5 months
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am i the abusive one?
am i the reason so many people leave?
i am arent i?
i’m the problem
i always have been the problem
i’ll always be the problem
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signanothername · 1 year
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comfy-curlew · 2 years
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man is so messed up fr fr.
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sweetmage · 1 year
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I usually hate character death (makes me too sad) but there is just something about Edan that makes me want to give him a bittersweet/tragic ending.
Idk if it's his paralyzing levels of imposter syndrome, the fact that he is so loved in ways he can't even fathom because he is so focused on what he lost, the limbo he feels trapped in because his chance at revenge was stolen from him and he does not know how to fill that hole and move on, the fact that only through sacrifice would he ever truly feel like even half the hero people claim him to be, or some combination of all of them.
No part of him wishes for death, but if it came down to him putting others' lives before his oww he'd embrace it with open arms. At least he'd finally feel like he was doing something and giving 'enough'.
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robertsbarbie · 2 years
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number 84672 of things my mother has don’t to make me unable to trust my own mind: back when i was still drinking soda i had a 12 pack of coke cans and they were disappearing really fast and i knew i wasn’t drinking them that fast but when i asked my mother about it she said she sure as hell wasn’t drinking them so i just thought i was crazy and didn’t actually count correctly COME TO FIND OUT when cleaning the garage she put them in her box of pepsi :)
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faesdreaming · 10 months
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Yandere Fae - Temptation
he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.
tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)
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“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”
He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.
Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers
“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”
But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”
Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.
He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”
Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.
Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.
The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.
“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”
Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.
You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.
Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.
You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.
You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.
You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.
“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”
You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”
He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.
The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”
His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”
“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.
That you were—
Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.
You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”
“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”
You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.
“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.
Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”
Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.
It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.
“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”
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gor3sigil · 27 days
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I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.
[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]
“Are you sure ?” she asked.
I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.
“Why do you ask ?” I say.
“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”
That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.
I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:
There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.
I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.
And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.
Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.
Or did it ?
Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?
But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?
“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”
Neither do I, RIGHT ?
Oh
Or do I ?
Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?
How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?
And what do we say to that ?
Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.
Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?
All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.
No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.
No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.
And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.
If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.
To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.
And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.
So I’ll explain very carefully.
See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.
And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.
I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.
Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.
Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.
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starsofang · 1 month
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART EIGHT
pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, blood, brief mentions of death, hurt feelings, lots of confusion from reader, price is mean ): masterlist a/n: thank you for all the support and patience! my power was out, but it's back! the truth is finally beginning to come out :p
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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Your mind was in complete disarray. It was clouded over with a heavy mist of dread and perplexity.
You knew your eyes weren’t deceiving you.
The color of Ghost’s blood was as dark as an unlit night, where the moon hid below the horizon and refused to peek out. Pitch black, unmistakably so, and shimmering back at you in mockery.
There was no explanation for what you were seeing. In fact, there wasn’t one for everything that you’ve seen — Ghost’s mysterious mask that he never went without, the skull ring on his finger mixed with the thick onyx that accompanied it, the tattoos that disappeared beneath the cuff of his sleeve.
If you thought Ghost was an enigma before, he was a completely uncrackable code now. You hadn’t a clue who he truly was, or what he was, if the blood was anything to come by.
You stared, and stared, even as the water over the flames boiled and popped in an uproar behind you. Your focus was shifted, and cooking was long gone from your mind.
A voice inside beckoned you to touch it. It was a whisper in the atmosphere that slithered in your mind, growing louder and louder until it was ringing in your ears.
You didn’t understand why you listened, but you did. With a shaky finger, you slowly inched towards the drops of Ghost’s blood. In a moment of hesitation, you paused before ultimately dipping the tip of your finger into the unholy drip.
The moment your touch greeted it, the smallest of steam seemed to simmer around it, like the trail of cigar smoke that Price often left behind in his wake. Your fingertip faintly tingled, like a limb falling asleep and producing a staticky discomfort.
You watched in awe as you pulled your finger back, only for Ghost’s blood to bubble away until nothing was left. The traces of him left behind had vanished into thin air, leaving the wooden block and your finger squeaky clean.
It was as if he hadn’t been cut. It was as if he hadn’t bled.
You felt as if your sanity was falling apart. That was the only explanation for what you were witnessing. You were simply deprived of nature, deprived of your old life, and now, living amongst pirates with nothing but a world of water surrounding you at all times had caused your mind to lose its authenticity.
Panic began to bubble inside of you as you tried to collect yourself.
You felt your own anxiety clawing at your skin, like razor sharp nails slicing you open and bleeding you dry. You were lost, confused, scared.
You had no idea who you were truly living with — imprisoned with.
Surely, you were no longer a prisoner on ship, but you were a prisoner of the dark, because that was exactly where they were keeping you.
As your mind fogged over with grueling emotions, the first person you thought of was Gaz. Perhaps he could offer you grace and explain what you couldn’t seem to gather. It was a fat chance, as Gaz picked and chose his battles carefully.
Quickly pulling the boiling water from the flame to allow it to cool, you scurried out of the kitchen with urgency.
Your chest was tight and the lump in your throat was hard to swallow. The world felt like it was ready to swallow you right up beneath your feet.
You reached the door of the kitchen and quickly swung it open, only to saunter straight into something tough. It startled you and you bounced back, looking up to see none other than the Captain.
He cocked his head in question at the sight of you, taking in your dishevelment.
The way your chest rose with every heavy breath to the shakiness of your hands, he growingly appeared more concerned. It was the first time you’d seen Price truly worried rather than carelessly confident.
“Somethin’ happen?” Price asked. He reached out to place his hands on your shoulders, stabilizing you. He looked down at you before shifting to behind you, searching. “Where’s Simon?”
“Simon?” you choked out in confusion. “Who is Simon?”
“Ghost,” he corrected quickly, narrowing his eyes at you. “Where is he?”
You fumbled for words, stuttering out that you didn’t know. It was a struggle to even speak, overwhelmed with every new piece of information you were discovering.
You didn’t know the pirates had names. You assumed the names they had given you were the names they were born with, as silly as they were. What else were they keeping from you?
You felt blindsided. Sure, you began as their prisoner, but you evolved into a new crewmate that had to stick around whether you wanted it or not. You thought you were forming friendships with these men, at least in moderation.
To learn that these men were complete strangers like you had stubbornly kept reminding yourself for the first few months of imprisonment felt like a punch to the gut.
Just as you began to trust them enough to accompany them, it was stolen.
“What has happened?” Price questioned. The look on his face was grim and tight, and you only remembered seeing it one other time — the night they massacred your village.
“Captain—” you tried.
“Do not,” he interrupted. “It is a simple question.”
You stared at him with eyes full of misty uncertainty, swallowing down the aching lump that continued to harden.
You felt foolish, becoming so vulnerable over your own feeling of deception. These men were still strangers to you at the end of the day, and anything you began to learn about them, you were proven wrong time and time again.
To be so emotional when you had been nothing but strong-willed and stubborn had you frustrated and resentful to your own wounded soul. So careless you were being, opening up to the very men that were bound to ruin you.
“I do not know where he went,” you tried answering calmly, but it came out weaker than intended. “He simply cut himself with a knife by mere accident, but his blood— Captain, I do not understand.”
“There is nothin’ for you to understand, medic,” he hissed, wounding you. He didn’t call you dove, nor birdie. Even your own name would have sufficed.
But medic? Just as Ghost had spat at you moments before he fled the kitchen in a fit of demise.
“His blood was black, Captain!” you argued, throwing your arms up in a frenzy. “It disappeared the moment I touched it, it bubbled as if it were poison and vanished into thin air! That is something I wish to understand.”
You were begging, pleading with him to explain the series of events that transpired. You didn’t ask for this, nor did you want this — but if you were going to be forced into it, you wanted to feel a part of it.
The Captain gripped on to your shoulders once more in a vice, fingers digging into your flesh. You cried out but did not move, glowering up at him as he looked down at you.
Price’s face contorted into something unrecognizable when he heard your cry, and he quickly let go of you, taking a step back. He stared at you for a pregnant pause, lips set into a harsh line until they parted to speak.
“I am truly sorry that we have pulled you into this, dove,” he apologized pitifully.
“Into what?” you asked once more. “Please, I do not understand.”
“Return to the boy’s quarters until I’ve come to collect you,” he ordered. “You will not come out until I’ve said so.”
“Captain—”
“Yes, Captain,” he snapped, glaring in warning.
You opened your mouth to argue, but he only stared more harshly. You took the moment to calm yourself, eyes flickering over the sour expression on his face.
“Yes, Captain,” you muttered bitterly.
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You returned to Soap and Gaz’s shared quarters with a rotten taste in your mouth. Upon opening the door, you were surprised to find Soap inside but no Gaz in sight.
“You are not out doing your rounds?” you asked Soap, who practically lit up at your sudden appearance.
Soap sat up from where he was sprawled out in his cot, scrambling to the edge. When he noticed the grimness of your expression, his smile faded and he tilted his head like a curious puppy.
“No, it’s calm sailin’ today,” he replied. “What’s up with ye? Ye looked like somebody’s just killed yer granny.”
You shot him a deadly glare. He threw his hands up in defense.
“Wrong choice of words, dove. M’sorry,” he apologized.
You continued to stare at him for a long moment before sighing. You tried to disperse the rowdiness that your mind was singing to you, but the sounds never halted.
Price’s conversation as well as Ghost’s oddity remained permanent resident for the time being, and you couldn’t evict them if you wanted to. Everything weighed heavily on you, between feeling betrayed, hurt, fearful, confused.
It was all too much for a woman who had already gone through enough.
“You must tell me what’s wrong with Ghost, Soap,” you pleaded. Soap’s expression shifted to confusion before muted realization. “I may not be the best medic, but if something’s wrong, I can help him. I cannot keep being pushed away by the very men who request my aid. What good am I for?”
“Everythin’s fine with Ghost, dove,” Soap assured, though who was he trying to convince? You, or himself? “Was he cold to ye again? I can speak with him, try to make ye two see eye to eye—”
“His blood was as dark as the night and evaporated right in front of my eyes!” you interrupted, growing frustrated. “You cannot tell me that is fine.”
Soap’s mouth snapped shut and his face hardened. You weren’t having it.
“And the maps?” you continued, pacing the room. “The strange poetry in Price’s quarters, the map with X’s over islands?”
“Ye saw that?” he muttered to himself, but you caught it.
“There is plenty you are not telling me, Soap, all of you.”
“Because it is none of yer concern, dove,” Soap replied, his tone slightly flat compared to the previous endearment. “Not now.”
“Then when?” you questioned, exasperated. “You wish to keep me in the dark for the rest of my time on this ship? You will tell me on my deathbed? You have all stolen everything from me, I believe I deserve a little insight on things that very much concern me now.”
The two of you were staring so hard at one another, it was a miracle you didn’t burst. The tension was thick and heavy, it was a struggle to breathe. It was astonishing how quickly things changed.
Your inner turmoil was growing stronger and stronger by the second.
Soap, apart from Gaz, was the one you entrusted the most because he showed you basic kindness from the very beginning. He convinced the Captain of your usefulness, he surprised you with a pair of shoes, and he always greeted you with a smile.
You knew there was a dark side to Soap just as the others. But you were learning that you didn’t like it.
“Yer right,” he said. “We aren’t bein’ honest with ye. But that’s because it’s not somethin’ I should tell ye. Ghost should be the one to do it.”
“He will not even look me in the eye, let alone tell me! He is not normal, Soap, and I wish to understand what you have pulled me into,” you pleaded.
Your words were a play on what Price had told you earlier. He apologized with no true explanation, and it replayed in your head until it drove you mad.
No matter how much you scrambled around for reasons, nothing made sense. Nothing added up. The painted picture was right in front of you with the colors missing.
Soap was silent, contemplating. He no longer looked irritated, but more so perplexed and conflicted than anything.
“Ghost was a part of a pirate crew before us, before Price,” Soap explained solemnly. “Whatever happened on that ship is somethin’ unexplainable and it’s stuck to Ghost like a leech.”
“You don’t know what has happened to him?” you asked quietly.
“I do know. It is too vile to repeat, it’s sick—” Soap paused, cursing under his breath before shaking his head. “For the sake of him, for us, ye need to trust me.”
You went quiet, allowing the room to fill with heavy silence. Soap’s eyes resorted to the ground while yours remained on him, taking in the tightness of his jaw and the angry furrow of his eyebrows.
Whatever happened to Ghost wasn’t simple. You were curious, concerned, both for yourself and for Ghost. As much as you hated him and held no warmth in your heart to a man who could be so cruel to you, there was a crackling flame begging to melt the iciness.
“I do not know how any of you expect me to trust you after everything that’s happened,” you murmured honestly. “Time has passed, yes, but I struggle to accept the fate brought upon me. You cannot fault me for that.”
Soap lifted his gaze from the floor to shift it to you. His eyes softened. You could sense an understanding. It wasn’t the first time Soap had given you that sentiment, but this time felt different.
It felt much more raw and open.
“Nobody faults ye,” Soap replied softly. “Yer hurtin’. But so is Ghost. That’s all I can give ye right now.”
Soap stood from the bed and gave you a pitiful look. He stepped up to you, standing silently for a moment before giving your shoulder a squeeze with his hand.
The touch frazzled you, and you whipped your head up to see him already looking back. It sent a rush of warmth through your body, one that sent you into a deeper pool of confusion.
You’d never felt it before. Understood. Cared for. Heard.
Before you could dwell on it, Soap took his hand away and stepped out of the room, leaving you completely alone once again.
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It wasn’t until nightfall that Price came to collect you. Neither Gaz nor Soap came to their quarters, and you knew right away it was because the Captain told them not to.
The day had slipped away, and so had meals. Though you felt the burning ache of hunger brewing, you had no appetite when Price said nothing of earlier but instead told you to join them for dinner.
It was painfully silent when you arrived. Wooden bowls were set out with steaming food, and accompanying them was the rest of the pirates.
The Captain sat you across from him while you were joined in between Soap and Gaz. Ghost sat next to Price, though you avoided looking at him.
It was just as it was the first time you ate with them, and instead of a lively melody, it was a nauseating quiet.
Nobody spoke, and the only thing that was heard was the clinking of spoons along the bowls. Your porridge sat in front of you, growing cold.
“So, dove,” the Captain began, resting his arms on the table. You noticed he hadn’t taken a single bite either. “You want to know what we’ve been hidin’ from you, hm? Get insight on what’s goin’ on?”
You froze in your seat, tensing up. All eyes were on you. You felt your chest tighten from the impending doom that seemed to linger over the table.
“I simply do not want to be left in the dark, Captain. I have reason for concern, I am lost. I know what I’ve seen, and it is troubling me. You said so yourself that I am a part of the crew now, yes?” you replied hesitantly, stumbling over finding the right words.
Price hummed in response. His face was set firm as it was earlier, and you wondered just how much you were truly missing out on.
“I did,” Price tsked, “but you are too weary, too naive. You’re meddlin’ in affairs that you are not prepared for. Drop the matter or I’ll take you right back to that dreadful island of yours. What’s left of it, that is.”
With his stare too intense, you quickly turn your gaze down to the tabletop, skimming over it mindlessly. Except, when your eyes landed on the familiar hands of Ghost, skull ring glinting in your direction, you took note of the finger Ghost had cut that morning.
The wound was gone. Healed, as if it was never there before. There wasn’t a blemish or imperfection on his finger, where there should’ve been a gash that would be dreadfully painful if it were you.
Glancing up at Ghost, his eyes met yours, but rather than the usual fire of anger that flickered behind them, there was resentment. Resentment that wasn’t geared towards you.
It was old, clinging on to him long before you knew him. Whatever had truly happened, whatever had led you right to that very seat on their ship, was the key to the chest that held the answers.
It didn’t look like you’d be opening it any time soon.
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coffee-and-tea-time · 4 months
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HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE
…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-
I call dibs on the dilf then
No, back off, he's mine🤺
Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)
TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)
“ugh… What time is it?”
You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets…  still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?
You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.
"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"
You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground? 
You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street. 
The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight. 
The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.
This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling. 
What can you do to return to your home? 
You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.
You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.
"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"
You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.
And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds. 
That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness. 
You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.
You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.
You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.
What in the world is going on?
Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build… 
Wait, what?
Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.
You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.
“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”
You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.
You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.
You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.
“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”
You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.
As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.
He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…
For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.
The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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propheticbride · 3 months
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Lamb to Slaughter I
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𐙚 Following Aegon's crowning of King, you attempt to settle into your new reality, with absolutely idea of what is happening around you. Your only company? The one eyed Prince himself.
𐙚 Aemond Targaryen x Reader (tw: manipulation, slight non-con, incest)
The nights following Aegon’s coronation were chaotic, whisperings of Rhaenyra’s claim lay about plainly as others argued the whore was not the rightful heir after all. Doors remained closed tight, no one talked too loud, servants kept to themselves. War was brewing, that was for certain.
You remembered the night your father died, your mother had snuck into your room and had gently woke you up. Cradled you as she gave you the news, you being the only Viserys doted on after Rhaenyra. And in some sick way, Alicent was sure you were her favorite too.
At first you did not comprehend how he was dead. He was not in good health, but to die so suddenly had left you confused.
‘My sweetling, he was not well. You saw. So weak, so poor in health.’ she spoke as she pet your hair.
Tears caked your face, hair matted to your skin, ‘I just don't understand.’
She sighed, ‘My poor girl.’
When Alicent had left that night, you had felt a void inside. Heartbroken and scared at the news. You found yourself in a familiar place, slipping out of your own chambers and into Aemonds. You wouldn't bother Aegon at that hour, him too drunk to even wake or want to comfort you. So instead you slipped into your more understanding brother’s space, the one who gently held you when you were scared and kissed you so gently.
But now, everyone's attention had been guided to Rhaenyra and her war. Everyone in the keep insisting she would come with fire and blood. And where you would seek Aegon’s affections, it would now be shunned upon. He was married after all, with two children and now king. He could no longer lie in bed and keep you entertained with his flea bottom stories.
✮⋆˙
“He's too busy now brother, too busy for me.” you complain, stitching at Aemond’s ripped attire. “He drinks a lot, I know this. But never stops by my chambers anymore. He must be so occupied with being king.”
Aemond doesn't reply, just makes an agreeing sound as his one eye watches you sew.
“How is Helaena? I know you two spend time together, she will not speak to me either. I wish she would, I get so lonely.”
“I talk to you.” Aemond reminds you.
You nod, giving him a gentle smile, “You’re always so good to me brother.”
His hand finds your arm, gently rubbing you to calm you.
“No one tells me anything. It’s…” tears form in your eyes.
“My love…”
“No!” you slam his arm away, getting up and begin to pace. “You are not to call me that! You are gone for days, on that beast you claim to be a dragon. Mother will not come visit me, Aegon has completely shunned me. Cole will not look at me and my dear sister will not speak to me. I am going insane in my room. Please. Please, what is happening?”
Aemond studies you for a moment, as if he were examining your outburst.
“I’ve never known you to yell. At all people, me.” he finally speaks.
It hurts you. The pain that settles in your chest after his words are enough to make you sick.
“I did not mean-” you return to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Please forgive me. I cannot stand if you are mad at me. I am losing my sanity. I'm so lonely.”
“Am I not enough to keep you happy?” he questions.
“I miss our mother, and our brother.” you admit. “When father was alive I wasn't so…lonely.”
“Because he kept you company.”
“I just want Aegon to visit again. Or mother. Or even Haelena. Please just ask them. Ser Kavvin does not let me leave ever. It’s like I am a prisoner.” it’s almost as if you were praying to the gods. Gentle and begging. Please please please.
Aemond is silent again, until he rises and kisses your head, “I’ll tell mother and brother to visit you my sweetling, it must be so awful for you to be cooped up in here, I am sorry Vhagar has my interests as of late. My priority has always been you.”
You beam at his words, the remembrance of your outburst a memory it seemed. Although the court was terrified of Aemond, you were not. Perhaps some of you was, but he was gentle and sweet to you, you almost had no reason to be scared. He took care of you, bringing you jewelry and new gowns, dining with you in place of your mother. He was the only human interaction you had gotten as of late, everyone else so preoccupied with Aegon.
“Is it?” you ask. Out of place, and you know it, but you cannot help yourself.
“I always thought we’d marry. Aegon had Haelena, but who has you, but me.” Aemond begins to cup your face. “I enjoy our time together, but there are matters I must attend to this afternoon. But don't worry, I will have mother or Aegon visit you.”
You struggle to understand his words, “What do you mean. Have me?”
He smiles and shakes his head, giving you a kiss on the lips before finding himself out of your chamber.
✮⋆˙
If anything Aemond does well, it's keep a promise. As he said, Alicent finds herself in your chambers a little after nightfall. She had maids run you a hot bath, your white hair gently slipping through her fingers as she brushed it.
“Why haven't you visited me?” you finally ask after too much silence.
“Aegon is being prepared to finally rule, I have been attending to it.” she says. “I am sorry, I haven't seen to you. I do feel bad.”
“Why must I be confined to my chambers.” you turn to her, violet eyes looking up at her.
“I do not trust…” she tries to collect her thoughts, not sure how to word it for you to understand best. “Aegon thinks it’s best if you are under protection. He thinks you might be a target for Rhaenyra’s anger.”
“Rhaenyra.” you say your sister’s name. “Rhaenyra is upset that father replaced her as heir?”
“Yes my sweet. She is upset that your father changed his mind about the succession. He decided he wanted Aegon on the throne after all.”
“I miss him.” you say after a while. “He was very sick…but he kept me company.”
“I am sorry, I am. I know it is no excuse but you must forgive and understand how daunting this has all been. So much has been done and needs to be done, the realm may be at war soon-”
“At war?” you interject, worry in your tone. “War? Why war?”
Alicent catches herself, she has slipped.
‘Do not mention the mess with Rhaenyra to her, I would not have her worry’ Aegon’s voice played in her head.
“No war my sweet, I only forget myself. I am sure Aegon will come to peace with Rhaenyra, and maybe she will even be seen back in the keep. You’d like that, right? I know you were fond of her son, Jacerys, I know you two were close.” Alicent goes back to braiding your hair, scared her words have put unrest in you. You did scare rather too easy.
“I don't want anyone at war.” you murmur.
“No war.” Alicent nods. “Aegon will be a good king, and make peace. I know it.”
✮⋆˙
If you were honest, you were close to Jacerys, spending time in the garden together and studying. Rhaenyra had taken a liking to you, mostly due to your shared father also taking a liking to you. You were not close with Lucerys, you did not know him well. You did not spend time with him nor were you very thoughtful towards him. No time truly spent between you.
So news of his death broke the in the red keep, you found yourself indifferent. No tears were shed, but your heart hurt for Jacerys.
Aemond had returned from dragon back, Aegon so delighted of his brother's victory, the murder of a child, that a feast was thrown. You were allowed in your finest green silk and finally allowed out of your chambers, where you sat among several counsel members and your family along with some court attendees. Aemond had been silent for most of the feast, ignoring the praise he had received, most of them insults for Rhaenyra. You watched him closely, hoping, begging he would make eye contact with you. But he did not.
For hours it went on like this, Aemond slowly sipping and eating at the feast presented in front of him, not truly present at the party that was all for him and his victory.
Aegon, ever drunk, was quite present. Too present.
“My sweet sister!” his voice calls, and you turn to him. “Where have you been hiding?”
“My chambers, on your ruling.” you murmur.
“My ruling? Why would I ever…” he hiccups and slams himself down in the chair beside you. “I have missed you soooo much. Your absence has been noted, why do you scorn me so?”
His words don't make sense to you. Your mother’s words and now his, dancing in your head. You hadn't noticed, not truly noticed, until you briefly look at him, that Aemond is staring at you. For the first time in the entire night, he simply stares. But his gaze is far from comforting.
“I’ve been in my chamber, lonely.” you admit, looking back at Aegon.
“Well…I have missed you my girl, so much. It's so lonely…” he whispers the next part, “my bed… has been rather lonely.”
Aemond stands, everyone quickly glancing at him. He excuses himself from the table, with Aegon’s hand on you all you truly can do is watch.
“He’s upset” you mention.
“Ah yes. He’s been so moody since that business with the dragons. Don't know why though. They're all traitors. I’ll have all of their heads.” Aegon smells like alcohol, a smell you’re familiar with but still sensitive to.
“Aegon!” your mother’s voice rings. “I do wish you would not speak of such things with her, you know better.”
Alicent attempts to pull Aegon up from beside you, but he is quick to shove her away. You stand, shocked at the whole ordeal.
“I think I will head to bed.” you insist.
“I think that would be best, sweetling.” Alicent nods.
When you enter your chambers, you don't notice Aemond at first. He's facing the bookshelf, one your late father filled with stories of old and history. The one thing you both bonded over.
When you do notice him, it’s when you're half naked, pulling your sleeping slip on.
“Your skin is always so beautiful.” his voice startles you.
“Aemond!” you jump, clinging to your fur blanket, attempting to cover yourself.
“I've seen you already, have you forgotten me already?” you're not sure if he's as drunk as your other brother was, but his voice is calm and almost soothing.
“You should be in bed, the hour is late and I know you are upset.” you try to reason with him, knowing that when he is upset he is easiest to get to.
“But you always grant me so much comfort.” Aemond steps towards you, allowing his hand to cup your face, thumb lining your lips. “Do you remember the night I lost my eye. I was in so much pain. And you found me, alerted the guards to me. And that night, before we left, you let me in your bed for the first time. And we laid there together in peace.”
You watch his face as he talks, there's always been a certain amount of devotion you showed Aemond. That night you had found your cousins and him, screaming at the top of your lungs that alerted the guards to the situation. And he was not wrong. That night Aemond had been restless, in pain over his lost eye. Where your mother usually slept beside you, she had taken a leave of absence from your bed that night, allowing Aemond to replace her.
“You were always so sweet to me, where they laughed, you had always welcomed me. For dolls, for tea…for anything. So gentle. So kind.” Aemond sounds breathless, like he was praying.
“Aemond-”
“Shhhhh.” he licks your closed lips, causing you to gasp.
Aemond was always strict with the affection he gave you; always keeping his hands to himself, always to be careful that your mother did not catch a glimpse of how hungrily he would stare at you. But never this brazen. You did not know what to make of it.
“Please.” you beg. “We can't-”
“Can't what. You have no husband, and I have no wife. This is right. We were born to be together.” Aemond presses his forehead towards you. “Ever since that night I lost my eye, and you welcomed me so warmly into your bed I have wanted you since. Why won't you let me take you?”
“We can't…Aegon…he-”
Aemond’s face twists in anger, “Don't mention him! Do not speak of him!”
The outburst scares you, taking a step back and clutching your fur tighter.
“Drop it.” his face changes, as does his voice. His entire demeanor shifts. He unclips his cloak from his armor, letting the fabric fall to your chamber floor. “I said…drop it”
You drop the fur immediately, standing there almost bare for him. He looks over body, with a hungry gaze and a curious eye. Your slip was a thin silk, something your mother would die if she ever found you dressed in. But the sun had been hot as of late, and her nightgowns were too heavy. The several slips had been a gift of Aemond, now you had known why.
“I have waited years for you. Years for you to come to your senses of what I am to you. What you are to me. I am sick of waiting my sweet, I need you now. And I will have you now.” Aemond’s hands gently pull your slip down, allowing your naked body to be in full view for him. “You’re mine. You always have been. I just need to prove it to you."
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sonolynn · 3 months
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Death's Grasp
request | Omg your prompts!🧎‍♀️Requesting an intense "I'll make death pry me away from you." with aegon x highborn reader?
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summary | After a disturbing vision, the court's Seer fears for Aegon's life.
pairing | Aegon x Fem!Seer!Reader
tags | TW!!! Descriptions of blood, murder, and battle. Swearing, OOC Aegon, swearing, implications of sexual themes, mentions of war
w.c | 1.6 k
note(s) | This fic is out of the cannon of either the show and the book for my own sanity. Also, mixing a little bit of Norse mythology into the mix! Also, I took more of a creative liberty with this request so I hope it's okay!
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Aegon was screaming on the battlefield, pointing towards the field and motioning for people to run. He looked frantic. His silver-blonde hair messy with soot and blood. He was panting, almost hyperventilation as the fear and anxiety coursed through his veins like a raging flood as he sent more soldiers to their death. 
You were imobile, cursed to watch as Aegon fought freakishly messy; so different from how he normally fought. You saw it clearly now, you saw his demise before him. You watched as your lover was impaled by a sword. How convenient that it was through his back. 
As if in shock himself, Aegon looked down at the sword as he fell to his knees, holding a cupped hand underneath the blade as the blood pooled from the wound. The man behind Aegon put his foot on the king’s back, grunting as he pulled the sword from your lover's body. Blood spilled from Aegon’s mouth, causing the man to choke violently. 
Aegon looked up, straight into your eyes as he coughed out your name; a final tribute to the women he’d never see again. As he breathed your name one last time, his face fell and he slumped against the ground. 
You felt sick as the next part of your vision flashed before you, a clear vision of Aegon’s head, eyes closed and unevenly severed, held in the hand of the enemy. 
____________________________________________
You awake with a scream, holding your shaky hands over your mouth as the images of Aegon’s death stay fresh in your mind. You had had visions before, all of which had come to pass. But this one was more vivid than the others, more integral than the others.  
You breathed heavily, placing your hands in your hair and taking deep breaths to ground yourself. Your breath slowed, and your hands stopped shaking. But, the anxiety that stemmed from this vision stayed on your mind like that of the smell of a newly lit candle. 
Unable to deal with the beads of anxiety burrowing themselves in your veins, you hurriedly threw the covers off of you and rushed to Aegon. 
____________________________________________
“Aegon the Dragon Cock!” One of Aegon’s imprudent men that surrounded his inner circle shouted. You walked down the steps of the throne room, and looked around,  seeing the men and their drunken display. Aegon laughed at the notion, smiling and pointing to his friend as he bounced happily like a child seeing a new toy. 
“Yes! Yes, that one!” 
“Aegon.” You spoke softly, and the minute your face broke through the laughter of men, Aegon turned, a smile on his face. 
“My love! Don’t you agree! “Aegon the dragon cock! Isn’t it perfect…” His voice trailed off. He watched you closely, noticing your disheveled appearance and bare feet. “My love?” He was quick to dismiss his men, quickly walking down the steps of the throne to stand before you. He placed a free hand on your cheek, cocking his head to the side as he studied your expression. 
“Having fun, your grace?” Aegon rolled his eyes at the question and he gave you a look. 
“You are my betrothed, you needn’t refer to me as such.” His voice was soft, and he smiled gently at you whilst stroking your cheekbone. “What is with the look?” You stayed silent for a moment, not wishing to truly tell him the cause of your displeasure. Aegon had never truly believed in your gift; The gift to see what others didn’t. Only recently, when you had told him he would become the next king of the seven kingdoms did he acknowledge that perhaps you did have a gift. 
“...I’ve missed you.” You replied, the lie hot on your tongue. Aegon smirked at this, turning and placing his cup on a nearby table. 
“We saw each other a mere..two hours ago. Was I that good, my love?” The sight of his teasing smile, and the look on his face made you breakdown. Tears ran down your cheeks, and your hands started to shake again as you were reminded of what your vision had held within itself. 
Aegon gazed at your melancholic expression made him stop, and he paused. He quickly walked back towards you.
“Darling-” He stopped when you took a step back and held a hand out. Aegon frowned deeply and he gave you a look. “...You’ve had one of those visions, haven’t you?” 
“Yes.” 
“And it has something to do with me, I presume?” You nodded. In frustration Aegon groaned, holding a hand to his forehead as he sighed. “You and those pointless visions-” 
“They are not pointless, Aegon! They hold meaning. The gods gave me this gift-” You stopped, seeing how he was muttering the same words you were. Your face hardened. “You think this to be funny?” 
“No-well, yes a little but my love-” Aegon came to you, taking your hand in his as he sighed. “These-These visions you call them are nothing but superstition!”
“My vision is what told you about your descent to the throne!” 
“A lucky guess!” You scoffed at his words, grabbing a hold of his half buttoned up shirt as you glared. 
“Why do you think my suffering funny, Aegon?!” Aegon’s face softened, and he sighed. He gently grabbed your wrist, giving you a kind look as he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, before he breathed out your name slowly. You stopped, hearing him say your name in such a manner reminded you of that awful vision. 
“I do not find your suffering funny. I find your incessant need to base your superstitions off of pure nightmare’s-” He spoke faster as you started to pull away from him. You avoided his gaze, clenching your jaw. You knew the look he was giving you, one of sympathy that you did not wish to see right now. 
“Tell me what you saw, sweet girl.” He came to you again, slipping a hand behind your head and holding it in his grasp as he looked down at you. He desperately tried to meet your eyes, but you were insistent on pulling away from him and his gaze. 
“You’ll think me silly.” 
“Come now, I think you silly no matter what vision you tell me of.” He smiled, though, even as he joked you couldn’t get the image of his death out of your mind. Tears started to fill your gaze, and you pulled away.
 “Sweet girl, stop pulling away from me!” He pleaded, grabbing your arms in a futile attempt to make you stop moving. You pulled your arms up, your fists resting on his chest. He breathed out your name again and that is what did it for you; what made you break.
“I saw your death, Aegon!” You yelled, which indirectly caused the drastic movement of back and forth between the two of you to stop. Aegon stared down at you, his eyes hardening and his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I saw you…not much older than you are now. You were on the battlefield, and..you…” You trailed off, refusing to revisit the gruesome and sickening vision. 
Aegon watched you, he had seen you and your reactions to these visions before but this…this was new. The look of fear that crossed your features and the tears that filled your eyes made his heart break. He could barely handle you when you woke from one of these visions normally, but these looks and the unease that settled on your face caused his mind to go blank. 
“My sweet girl, no-” “Yes Aegon! Do you not get it! You will die and you will die at the hands of your enemies with no one around you and your head will be taken-”
“My head?” 
“-And-And you’ll be scared and I won’t be there-” 
“My love-” 
“You’ll die and you’ll leave me alone, Aegon!” You screamed. At those last words, Aegon suddenly grabbed your face, making you look at him. His own eyes held tears of his own, and he grasped your face with little strength so as to not hurt you. Your eyes widened, and you watched him closely as he maintained a fierce look in his gaze. 
“I will not leave you-” You started to pull away, crying. You always knew Aegon was a fool, but a fool to this extent? You almost wanted to laugh. 
“Not even you can defy death, Aegon!” He looked almost offended at your words. Offended that you think he would just let death take him away from you. His hands grew tighter on your cheeks, locking your eyes again as he leaned forward and pushed his forehead against yours. He took a breath, steadying the anger in his voice before he spoke. 
“I’ll make death pry me away from you.” He spoke softly, his voice slipping with emotion as he leaned forward and kissed you. And you let it happen. 
You enjoyed the kiss, letting nothing but Aegon and his lips consume your thoughts. It was nice, for a while. The notion that a mere mortal could defy the will of the gods. You knew that visions could change, and you sure to gods hoped this one would change. But, for now, you were happy to just bask in his arms and be with him. 
When Aegon pulled away he looked down at you. As you went to speak he shook his head and smirked a bit.
“Don’t speak.” He whispered, and you obeyed. The two of you stood in the middle of the throne room, Aegon’s hands holding your face and grounding you from your anxious thoughts, and you let him. You stayed in his arms, letting him kiss your face and your lips softly until you no longer thought of his death; until you only thought of him.
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aurorawritestoescape · 7 months
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BAD BLOOD pt 4
Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con (for Tommy), big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, m/f!oral, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), anal, rough sex, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (light), alcohol consumption, swearing, Tommy can pick up reader.
Summary: you finally get what you want.
Word count: 4.7k
A/n: this is filthy y’all! Enjoy💖 also in the next part it’s gonna go down so stay tuned! As always big thank you and also kisses and hugs to @milla-frenchy for the encouragement and valuable advice!😘❤️
Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || PART 5
*****
Tommy can’t believe that it’s happening. It feels like a dream. And he’s had so many about you. His sleeping mind was tortured by the images of you on your knees, your mouth open and ready to welcome his throbbing cock, or splayed on the dinner table, legs open and pussy waiting to be stuffed by him. He used to brush them off, feeling embarrassed and guilty the next morning when you’d say ‘hi’ to him in the kitchen. They subsided when you left for another year of college, only to return with a new force after you came back for the holidays.
He used to tell himself that he’d never do anything about it. He’d never do it to Jess, to you. Your youth should be carefree and not burdened by your middle aged stepfather wanting to fuck you.
But this summer it got so much worse. It seemed like you were testing him, his sanity, his loyalty to his wife, your mother. Everything you wore called for his hungry eyes, your every move, laugh, smile made his cock twitch in his pants. He took too many cold showers. It started to get ridiculous. So he decided to give himself a way out. He jerked off to the thought of you almost every day. He pumped his throbbing member in the bathroom after seeing you in a flowy summer dress. The image of you on the grass with your ass in the air, pussy glistening under the bright summer sun pushed him over the edge and after a few moments of ecstasy he felt sick. With himself, with his dick, with his life.
When Joel asked him ‘that’ question whatever wall he had built in his mind fell apart. The way you talked to him that night at the bar made it impossible to deny it. Impossible to stop it from happening. He needed to fuck you.
***
Tommy was mere minutes from his desire becoming reality. You’re on his lap, straddling him, your naked pussy pressed tightly to his bulge.
“Fuck, angel, you have a knock out ass,” Joel comments driving the three of you home through the dark streets and glancing from time to time at the way you’re grinding against your stepdad’s clothed cock.
“Thank you, uncle Joel,” you purr, parting from Tommy’s neck with a pop. A flash of a streetlight eliminates a darkening hickey on his skin that you’ve left for Jess to find.
Your bra and panties are long gone, stuffed into your purse. Tommy’s hands are kneading your ass cheeks and you pull your neckline down before pushing your naked breasts into his face. He immediately takes your nipple in his mouth and starts sucking and licking, his groans sending vibrations against your sensitive skin.
“Oh, daddy,” you whimper and he thrusts his hips into you making you jump on his crotch.
He lifts his face to you and you meet his gaze, so full of affection and need you wonder where and how he’s been hiding all that.
***
When Joel parks the car at the driveway you get off your stepdad and, after fixing your dress, jump out of the car trying not to flash the neighbors with your pussy. The night covers up his company but Tommy still tries to keep his distance out in the street. Yet as soon as you open the door and walk in he grabs you and spins you to face him. His mouth crashes on yours and he devours you like the tastiest fruit he’s ever had.
Joel enters and comes up to you two placing his big hand on your ass. You part from your stepdad and look at the men, your eyes shiny with excitement.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you offer while your head is spinning with possibilities of what they’re going to do to you.
Joel hums and pouts his lips seemingly chill about your invitation but his bulge is the biggest you’ve seen on him and you know that you’re the reason. You smirk and open your mouth, ready to diss him, but instead a gasp leaves your lips when Tommy bends down, presses his shoulder to your middle and lifts you off your feet. You clutch the shirt on his back scared of falling but he’s holding you tight so you start giggling.
“What the fuck? What are you doing?”
“The bed will wait”, he says and slaps your ass and pussy lips which are fully exposed in this position.
You tilt your head up gawking at Joel with wide eyes but he just chuckles following you two,
“Daddy knows best, angel.”
To your surprise Tommy takes you to the dining room. He carefully lowers you and sets you down on the dining table.
“Lie down for me, babygirl,” he mutters and manhandles you on your back along the surface and then stands between your legs, at the head of the table. You turn your head to the side and see Joel leaning against the wall with a smug smile on his face.
You lift yourself up on your elbows and look at Tommy with an eyebrow raised,
“I think a bed would be more comfortable, daddy.”
He places his big hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down making the ache in your core burn brighter. You open your thighs wider and he looks at your pussy exhaling a soft ‘yeah’.
Then he turns back, grabs a chair and sits down. You see his face between your thighs and feel your pussy clench and gush more.
Tommy pulls you closer to him and you place your feet on his thighs. He takes them in his hands and takes your shoes off one and then the other.
“Always wanted to eat your sweet pussy at this table instead of Jess’s dry turkey,” Tommy says as he puts your bare feet on the table, your knees bent and your pussy perfectly on display for him.
You moan, lowering your head back on the surface as your heart is booming in your ears.
“H-how long have you wanted me, Tommy?” you ask, trying to keep your cool but inwardly screaming with joy at his confession.
“Long enough to know exactly what I wanna do to you,” he mumbles and in the next moment you feel his warm lips on your cold wet pussy. You gasp and look up seeing him push his tongue between your folds and start making out with your cunt. You whimper and turn to Joel who’s still leaning against the wall watching your stepdad feast on your pussy nonchalantly like it’s some half decent cable porn. His eyes are dark and you know his cock wants to come out to play judging by his massive bulge but he waits, not wishing to interrupt you two. ‘Fuck,’ you think, ‘He really wants his brother back in Austin’.
You return your eyes to your stepdad whose curly hair is tickling the insides of your thighs now as his tongue circles around your clit and then slides down finding your dripping hole before he starts fucking his hot muscle into you.
You moan loudly with every thrust, your legs trembling and stomach heaving with an upcoming orgasm. You run your fingers through his hair and he growls against your flesh. The vibrations make you arch your back with pleasure as you tilt your head back whimpering,
“Fuck… daddy.”
Suddenly you hear Joel’s voice, gruff and calm, as he walks to the wet bar,
“Want some whiskey with your pussy, Tommy?”
Tommy smiles against your folds and parts from them for a second to reply, “Nah, she’s fucking juicy. Might need a napkin.”
He looks up at you and winks as you smile back at him biting your lip. Then he dives back and starts gently sucking on your clit. You’re about to unravel when you see Joel coming up to the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his cock in the other. You curse through your whimpers seeing his huge member pulsating and throbbing, his dark pink head glistening with smeared pre cum. You know you did it to him and pride blooms in your heart.
“Mind if I play with her mouth, ‘daddy’?” Joel asks, making his voice higher to parody you when he says the last word.
Tommy seems to be lost in the process of eating you out and just hums. Joel takes it as a ‘yes’ and after grabbing your shoulders pulls you closer to the end of the table and to his cock.
“Open wide, tongue out,” he commands after taking a sip of the liquor and placing the glass on the table above your head. You watch his cock bob over your face and your mouth waters.
You do what he’s told you - open your mouth and stick your tongue out.
“Good girl,” Joel praises you while Tommy is making out with your cunt. You buck your hips into his mouth looking for an increase of pace but he’s meticulous and slow in pleasuring you.
Suddenly Joel slaps your cheek with his cock leaving a wet precum spot on your skin.
“Focus, angel,” he says as he rubs the tip against your lips. You chase it with your tongue and reach up but he takes your cheeks between his fingers and squeezes with a groan,
“Suck on my balls first, then I’ll see if you deserve my cock, little slut.”
You glare up at him but your anger subsides when Tommy’s fingers enter your wet hole. You feel the ache of a stretch so it must be two or three digits.
“Give some love to your uncle, babygirl,” Tommy says as he’s watching your cunt suck in his thick fingers.
“Yes, daddy,” you mewl and both men sneer at your obedience.
Joel manhandles your head under his cock and after cupping his sack places it in your open mouth. You lick and suck on his balls which are smooth and warm while Joel is stroking himself lazily. With a free hand he tugs down your neckline and starts playing with your breasts, twisting your nipples, kneading your flesh which adds to your pleasure.
You focus on one of his balls, suck and roll it gently with your tongue. You moan and hear Joel’s voice join you. The sound makes your pussy flutter around Tommy’s fingers and when you switch your attention to the other ball, your stepdad pushes on your soft spot a couple of times and ecstasy overtakes every cell of your body. Your cries are muffled by Joel’s balls lying heavy on your tongue.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out as you’re clenching his fingers hard and then lowers his face to lick off your cum.
Joel takes his balls away and leans down watching your face twist with ecstasy.
“Just like that, angel. Good little slut.”
Your eyes lock before he leans lower and kisses you plunging his tongue into your mouth. The taste of whiskey and Joel invades all your senses and you answer his kiss hungrily grasping his shoulders.
You part from your step uncle when you hear Tommy’s voice and see him standing next to Joel now.
“Daddy’s turn, babygirl.”
Joel steps away grabbing his glass and emptying it in one go, his cock hard in his hand.
Tommy helps you to sit up on the edge of the table and lifts you up. You kiss him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smells and tastes like you.
“Let’s take the slut to bed, Tommy,” Joel rasps and you feel his hand engulf the back of your head.
Tommy’s lips leave you and he looks into your eyes,
“Where do you want us to fuck you, sweetheart?”
“Your bedroom, please,” you purr with an innocent smile. You mean their bedroom on their marital bed and when he hears it, his upper lip twitches. For a second fear grips your heart when you think he’s disgusted with you, reminded of his brutal betrayal of his wife.
But in a flash his lips are caressing yours with vigor. His mouth slides to your neck and he harshly sucks in your skin there making you cry out.
“Fuckin’ dirty girl. Wanna be fucked in your mama’s bed, on her favourite sheets,” he growls into your neck and then heads to the stairs holding you in his arms.
***
When you three get into the master bedroom their hands are immediately all over you and you feel too hazy and drunk on endorphins to know who’s taking off your dress, whose lips are sucking hickies into your neck. Soon Tommy and you are sitting naked on the foot of the bed as you’re straddling him. The nightstand lamps are illuminating your bodies with dim and soft light. He’s kissing you gently as his cock nests between your bodies and you’re slowly grinding your soaked pussy against it.
Suddenly you feel a big hand wrap around the base of your throat and move up to your jaw applying pressure and tilting your head up. You don’t fight it and look up seeing Joel’s face hovering over yours.
“Are you gonna be good for us, baby?” He asks, staring into your eyes.
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but takes your chin between his fingers and opens your mouth. You widen your eyes in confusion until he leans down and spits in your mouth. You moan as the warm liquid slides down your tongue and into your throat and you swallow it. Joel hums approvingly and bends down to kiss you. It’s more gentle than the first time. Joel’s lips muffle your whimper when Tommy takes your breast in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You cry out when he nips at the bud and part from Joel.
“Don’t be jealous, daddy,” you whine looking at your stepdad whose fingers are digging into your hips.
Joel sits on the bed next to Tommy, also naked and your eyes dart between the brothers.
They’re both gorgeous - wide shoulders, broad chests, golden skin. Tommy is thinner than Joel and his cock is not as big but their members are longer than anything you’ve taken so far. A little part of you is worried but you’ve wanted it for so long and you’re fully ready to be ruined by them.
“Daddy, uncle, please fuck me,” you plead pouting your lips.
“Her pussy is mine,” Tommy says as his fiery eyes land on Joel and then you.
“I can fuck her ass, no problem. For me. But it can be a big one for her,” he smirks and slaps your ass cheek. “Is your ass ready for uncle Joel’s visit?”
You can’t wait to be fucked so you silently get off Tommy’s lap, kneel on the bed between the men and lay down between them, sticking your ass up in the air.
“I’m not sure. Can you check?” You purr wiggling your butt and you hear Joel groan while Tommy curses.
You rest your cheek on your hand bringing the other to your ass and pull on the flesh showing off your holes to the men.
“Good little whore,” Joel praises you rubbing your ass cheek, “Do you think she’s ever taken it up her ass?”
“For her own good I hope she has, or you’ll rip her apart,” Tommy replies and the brothers laugh as your core tightens from hearing them talk about you as if you’re not in the room.
“Aw, angel, look at your pussy winking at us. Fear turns you on, huh? Good to know…dirty slut.”
You feel him spit on your tight hole and then he pushes the tip of his finger into you. You clench around it with a mewl and he slaps your ass not too hard but enough to leave a mark, “Relax, baby, need to get this ass ready.”
He tries again and inserts his digit up to the top knuckle.
While Joel is opening your asshole up like a Christmas present, Tommy climbs up the bed and rests his back against the headboard. He positions you so you’re between his legs. His cock is in his hand right in front of your face and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself on your elbows and lick a wet stripe along the underside of his length. His soft salty skin makes you salivate and you take his tip in your drooling mouth sucking on it and licking the slit. You moan swallowing his precum while Joel pushes his finger to the last knuckle and begins stretching you for his cock.
“Love the taste, sweetheart?” Tommy mumbles, closing his eyes for a second and bucking his hips up to get deeper into your hot mouth.
You start bobbing your head up and down while your hand is jerking your stepdad’s shaft as your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. Tommy's cock in your mouth feels like it belongs there and you give all of yourself blowing him until he holds your head between his hands stopping you.
“Hey, hey, babygirl, you’ll make me come like that… wanna fill up your pussy.”
You take his cock out of your mouth begrudgingly and rest your head on his inner thigh still gripping his cock.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, daddy, I’ll lick your balls and make you come all over your stomach,” you purr with a naughty smile but cold eyes, getting impatient. Tommy looks up at the ceiling, mumbling curses under his breath.
“Is she ready?” He asks Joel with a shaky voice and you hear his older brother hum as his finger leaves your asshole. You feel looser and miss Joel stuffing your tight ring.
“Get on the side, you two. I ain’t kneeling,” he roars.
Tommy manhandles you on his lap and scoots up to the edge of the bed holding you close. Joel stands behind your back.
“Maybe we can get you a cuck chair, old man?” You giggle getting comfortable straddling Tommy when suddenly Joel grabs your throat and pulls you up on your knees, your back pressed tightly to his chest.
His lips brush the shell of your ear as he hisses leaning down, “I’m about to fuck your ass, stupid slut, getting on my nerves ain’t the best idea.”
“Joel,” Tommy's voice is worried, “she’s kidding.”
To reassure your stepdad you moan and snake your hand around Joel’s neck grabbing his hair and pulling him closer.
“Don’t worry, daddy, uncle Joel and I are just playing.”
Joel growls and pushes you on Tommy’s chest.
“Plug her sloppy hole, brother, then I’ll wreck her ass. Got lube?”
Tommy nods his head at the nightstand.
You hear Joel shuffle stuff around in the drawer and then he jiggles a lube bottle in front of your face.
“Half empty, angel, your mom’s either as dry as her turkey or she loves it up her butt,” he chuckles.
“I fucking hate you,” you grunt through gritted teeth as jealousy burns your insides.
Tommy kisses the corner of your mouth trying to calm you down and then grabs your hip with one hand to guide you while the other holds his weeping cock at your wet hole.
You immediately pierce yourself on his member in one swift move moaning together with him. You feel full to the brim as your folds part for his girth and your walls snugly envelope his hardness.
“Holy fuck, babygirl, you’re tight”, he breathes out.
“My pussy is just for you, Tommy,” you whisper in his ear, tilting your hips and pushing your ass out hoping Joel will get the hint.
The older brother accepts your invitation right away and drops a generous amount of lube on the spot just above your asshole. You flinch feeling the cold liquid slide down to your tight ring and then your pussy stretched around Tommy’s cock.
Joel’s hand grips your shoulder for leverage while his fat lubed up tip presses to your asshole. The nerves churn in your stomach and your nails dig into your stepdad’s shoulders as you breathe deeply trying to calm down and relax your muscles.
Joel pushes the head into you making you half gasp-half moan as he stretches you. It aches just a bit as you’ve been wearing a butt plug in preparation for the night but you furrow your brows and open your mouth acting like an anal virgin for your unaware stepdad. ‘You’re his innocent stepdaughter’ after all.
“Daddy, he’s so big,” you whine, biting your lip and looking into his eyes.
“‘s right, angel,” Joel smirks behind you.
“Wanna stop?” Tommy asks, his voice concerned but you shake your head. No way you want to stop this!
“No, just hold me, please,” you plead and Tommy hugs you tightly, his arms over yours as you nuzzle the crease of his neck.
In this position, resting on your stepdad’s chest, your ass is sticking out perfectly for Joel who pushes his slicked hardness into you slowly while Tommy is rubbing your back whispering ‘good girl’s into your hair.
You mewl when Joel bottoms out with a growl hitting your pussy with his heavy balls.
Being completely full with the brothers’ cocks you whimper loudly when you sit up a little and feel them move inside you.
“Oh fuck, you’re both so big.”
“Move babygirl, you’ll get used to it.”
You hear Tommy’s words and grind your hips back and forth and all three of you moan in unison.
“Fuck, angel. Unclench your ass, you gonna make me cum too soon.” Joel groans and you take a deep breath trying to subside your excitement.
“Please move,” you mewl breathing deeply and they start slowly fucking you.
You’d never tell him but you’re grateful to Joel for going at it at a slow pace as your plug had nothing on the man’s girth and you feel the dull pain of the stretch as he’s pushing his cock in and out.
Tommy notices your pained expression and cups your cheek before giving you a passionate kiss. His cock twitches inside you as he’s thrusting up into your pussy with deep and slow strokes.
“You’re doing so good for us, babygirl,” he whispers as your lips brush. His hand kneads your breast, thumb and forefinger twitch your nipple as the other slithers down to your mound. He finds your hardened clit and starts rubbing it with two fingers.
Joel is panting and huffing behind you fucking your tight ass. He takes a hold of your throat and squeezes getting your attention.
“Imma fuck you hard now, slut. Ready or not.”
Tommy starts objecting but you want nothing more right now than to be ruined by their cocks.
“Yes, uncle Joel…Fuck me... Daddy please… my holes are yours.”
Joel immediately increases the pace at which his hips slap against your ass pushing his member into your asshole.
Tommy whines at your words and braces his hand on the bed before he starts power fucking your dripping cunt.
Your brain completely shuts down as your holes are being wrecked by your step uncle and stepdad. Your nails scratch Tommy’s shoulders as your core tightens, pussy and asshole clench around their fat cocks and your eyes roll back as your orgasm approaches fast.
“I told you this slut wanted it, huh?! Her holes were made for our dicks, brother. Look at her cock dumb face!” You hear Joel’s triumphant speech and see him slap Tommy’s shoulder. “Proud of you brother. You took what you wanted!”
Your stepdad smiles and looks at you with dark eyes. Joel leans over your shoulder, grabs your chin and turns your head to face him.
“You’re our fuck toy now, got it, angel? We gonna fill you up so good your belly will bloat. And we’ll do it again cos it’s all you’re good for… being fucked and suck our dicks and balls,” he growls as they’re pushing their cocks in and out. “Say it, “I’m your fuck toy, uncle” he commands shaking your head.
“I’m your fuck toy, uncle,” you repeat obediently as your eyes well up with tears. You’re moved by the immense pleasure coursing through your veins and your climax hits as you cry and moan squeezing their cocks. Tommy grabs a hold of your shaking body as you squirt and drown his member. Squelching sounds fill the room and the extra wetness sends Tommy over the edge as he shoots his cum deep into your womb.
Joel is still holding your jaw, then he curses and crashes his mouth on yours. His kiss is brutal, dominant and overwhelming, plush lips abusing yours, tongue licking into your mouth.
It takes a few strokes before he begins filling your ass with his warm seed. He parts from you moaning and your heart sings hearing them both omitting the sounds of pleasure because of you.
When they stop moving inside your body, you fall on Tommy’s chest and he holds you through the aftershocks, still buried deep inside your pussy.
Joel pulls his cock out and slaps your ass before plopping across the bed next to Tommy and you.
Tommy kisses your cheek panting and falls on his back next to Joel.
They’re looking up at you, eyes roaming your body, glistening with sweat, and smiling, Tommy with affection and Joel with his usual wolfish grin.
You must look spent and fucked out and your stepdad tells you to lay down. You get on the bed placing your head on the pillow and Tommy goes to the bathroom for a wet towel.
Joel turns on his side bracing his head on his hand, semi hard cock resting on his thigh, and watches you for a few moments before speaking,
“Show me.”
“What?”
“How good we filled your holes”.
You smirk at him and bend your legs pressing the knees to your chest. Joel scoots up closer to you and glides his middle finger against your asshole and up to your entrance and then clit making you flinch at the overstimulation.
“Squeeze it out,” he commands, opening your thighs wider.
Tommy comes back just in time to see your pussy contract and push out his cum and his cock twitches. It slides down to your asshole as Joel’s spend trickles out as well. Joel mixes the liquids with his thumb and then sits up to feed them to you. Tommy gets on the bed and watches you lick Joel’s finger clean off their warm cum.
When you’re done Tommy gently cleans you up with the wet towel while Joel gets up to light a cigarette and then lies down next to you smoking.
Tommy throws the towel away and joins you two. He turns your head and you make out for some time while Joel’s filling the room with smoke. You know Jess is going to be livid and smile internally.
Tommy parts from you and looks into your eyes, “delete the recording, babygirl, you don’t need it. This pussy is mine now”, he whispers against your lips as his hand cups your heated center. “We’ll make it work.”
You swallow loudly and look at Joel who’s watching you two like a hawk. His eyes are cold and intent. He shifts his jaw, then takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke in your face.
You turn away feeling your eyes sting and look up at the ceiling.
What the fuck are you going to do now?
*****
Thank you for reading!💖
Your comments and reblogs will make me very happy!❤️
Part 5
General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @stevie75
Series tag list: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75
If you’d like to be tagged for the series or for everything let me know!💕
934 notes · View notes
daistea · 4 months
Note
I love love love the scenarios of Kabru with a person who is oblivious, but what about someone who is hyper aware of how other people feel towards them as a defense mechanism? Someone who is constantly aware of everything that's going on and it's something they can't turn off but as a result hates guessing games and won't act unless the other person is genuinely forward. They aren't bad and are polite but will blatantly ignore hints. I think there's another layer of hilarity in that one.
Ya! I don't know if I captured what you're looking for, to be honest. But I tried my best, and I hope you like it!
1600 words !
no tw or spoilers I don't think
Cracks - Kabru x reader
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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Your heart was a fortress. There were moats and ballistas and canons aimed straight at anyone who dared approach. You weren’t sure when the fortress walls raised, but you knew when another stone was added, when they grew higher. 
And Kabru’s charming smile only piled more stones atop the wall. 
That smile was intended for another purpose, you knew. He’d realize that soon enough, but until then, you would maintain eye contact and nod along with his conversations. He didn’t talk about himself often, but he had stories to tell, anecdotes, theories. And he wanted your opinion on every single one. 
“What do you think?” Kabru asked. It was a line cast into the water with bait on the hook. It was the sliding of a chess piece across the board. And he didn’t mean to play these games, you also knew that. It was just how he was. 
“I don’t know,” was all you gave him. 
Kabru nodded to himself. He was good at covering up his disappointment, but you could practically see the gears turning in his pretty head. The only thing you weren’t sure of was why, exactly, he had wanted to see you today. 
Finally, he returned his attention to you, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
You felt yourself tense. Your shoulders slumped a little and you uncrossed your arms— he was probably reading your closed-off body language, but that was all simply habit, not a result of discomfort. 
“No, you don’t,” and you meant it. You weren’t about to inform him of why you never took the bait, but you’d throw him a bone. “You really don’t. I just… Wait, that was a very straightforward question, Kabru. How uncharacteristic of you.”
“I can be straightforward when I want to be,” He sent you another brilliant smile, though the look in his eyes told you that it was genuine. 
“Why do you want to be at this moment?”
Kabru looked away. He stared at his barely-touched mug of ale, doing his best not to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool. Yet, you saw it; the slight bounce of his knee, how his nose wrinkled. 
Finally: “I’m figuring something out,” he said. 
“Aren’t you always?” You teased. 
And he sent you another genuine smile with a hint of something, you weren’t sure. How annoying. Was it affection? You decided to push the thought aside for the sake of your sanity. 
“Yeah, you’ve got me,” he put his hands up and laughed, then took a sip of his ale as if needing something to do with himself to ease the tension that was slowly seeping between you. Tension: a noxious, invisible gas. It was about to give you a headache. 
You turned on the stool to face him, “What’s on your mind?”
Kabru’s smile turned wry, “Now you’re the one prying.” Your heart clenched. That was another stone on the wall. He knew you and it made you want to run away as fast as you could. 
“I guess,” you said, “Yeah, I do that sometimes.”
“I don’t mind,” Kabru murmured. 
What a lie. 
˚ · • . ° .
“Why are you two like this?” Rin asked. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands pressed down on her hips. Both you and Kabru took in the sight and began silently reaching conclusions. 
Kabru was the first to answer. “What do you mean? What’re we like?” He wasn’t confused in the least but made a good show of it. 
“Like this!” She gestured at you both, how close you were sitting with thighs and shoulders brushing. “You’re constantly dancing around each other and, frankly, it’s obnoxious.”
She was right. One step towards each other always resulted in two steps back. Kabru would create a verbal maze that you would instantly get lost in. You knew the general layout and that you should go a certain direction, but you never did find the exit. 
“Sorry,” you offered, hoping it would quell Rin’s annoyance. (It did not.)
“Are you two aware that…” Rin paused. She seemed to choke on her words as her cheeks slowly went pink. You and Kabru both stared. And stared. And Stared. Finally, Rin groaned, “Nevermind! This is your problem to figure out. Not mine.”
True enough. 
“She’s right,” Kabru murmured after she left. He lowered his head and looked at you, trapping you beneath his spotlight. Unfortunately, you had stage fright. 
“Right about what?” You asked, standing up to create distance; that spotlight was uncomfortably warm. But the lack of that warmth from Kabru’s body next to yours only created a gaping hole in your chest. (You'd have to fill that hole with sweets and distractions later.)
Kabru pursued your attention, “About our feelings, of course.”
Your feelings? At that moment, you were feeling quite shaken as cracks began to run up your fortress walls. 
“What feelings?” You asked flatly. 
His hopeful little smile instantly fell and he started to shift uncomfortably, “Our feelings.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“I’m not making you say anything,” you corrected, taking a step backward, preparing your retreat. 
“Yes you are,” Kabru began to argue desperately, “I’ve spent months trying to give you hints! I told you ‘the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’ and you started talking about how the craters kind of looked like Laois’s face. I compared our hand sizes together as an excuse to touch you, and all you said was that I have girlish hands!”
“You do.”
“You know me,” he grit his teeth, standing up from the bench, “you know how hard this is for me. I’ve given you so many hints, so many opportunities, but you’ve ignored them all!”
Hints. Even the word made you frown. Kabru wanted to play guessing games all day, while all you wanted was a simple game of truth and dare where everybody only picked truth. 
Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder why you loved this man. He always banged at the walls of your fortress and, recently, some stones had begun to crumble. You added more, but they would only fall when he decided to say something outright on rare occasion.
“I don’t like games,” was all you said. 
“I know,” Kabru exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes, “I know. I’m trying, really. Usually, I’m pretty adaptable, but this is just… Different.”
“And… You don’t like it?”
“I–” his mouth opened and closed before he looked at you straight on, “I don’t hate it, honestly. It’s different in a good way, as if it’s forcing me to be better with my words.”
“You’re already good with your words. You’re too good with them, that’s the problem.”
Kabru watched you for a moment. You allowed him to analyze you despite how it made your skin tingle. After a bit, he nodded to himself. “Do you want to get a drink?” He asked. 
“...I brought my water canteen with me, so I really don’t—
“You’re just blatantly ignoring my hints, aren’t you?” Kabru announced. His eyes widened and he threw his hands into the air. Whirling away, he gripped his hair and groaned. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Maybe you should try a new method,” you offered, patting his back, “one that doesn’t involve implications and guesses.”
Slowly, he lifted his head. He looked a bit dead inside, and his jaw tensed. You felt as if you were watching him force himself to eat a monster out of a sheer need to please. It endeared him to you, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. The things Kabru put himself through simply to maintain good graces were endless and difficult. 
“I…” he paused, blinking a few times before he finally looked at you, “Would that work?”
Probably. “Think of it like therapy,” you said as you led him back to the bench and sat down beside him. “Try to be blunt with me. Practice.”
“Practice,” he echoed under his breath.
“Come on.”
His eyes narrowed, “Fine. Where do I start? Give me a prompt.”
Good question. You gave it a moment of thought, “Alright, try asking me on a date.”
“I just did a few minutes ago.”
“No, be blunt about it.”
A heavy pause. Kabru slumped forward a little, an intense look in his eyes. “Alright. Fine. Will you go on a date with me?”
“...Why?”
“Why?” Fear and horror and exasperation filled his eyes, "Shouldn't you already know?"
“I don't. So, why?”
“Because—” just like Rin did earlier, Kabru choked on his words. His hands went up and he made meaningless gestures with them as if that would assist in the process of being blunt. “Because I would like that?”
“Good job!” You patted him on the shoulder. “Now, bluntly tell me how you feel about me.”
The horror on his face, you wanted a picture of it so you would always have something to laugh at. “Really?”
“Really,” you sang. 
“Fine. I—” another meaningless gesture as he cleared his throat, brows furrowing, “You really want me to be blunt?”
“Yeah. Tell me the truth, the whole truth, don’t dance around it.”
“Okay,” Kabru snorted, “Okay… I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, I want your attention, I want to pin you down on the couch and—”
“That’s enough,” you put up a hand— your cheeks were burning— and smiled, “we’re in a public place. But I get the point, thank you.”
Kabru sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and fell forward, burying his face in your shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his back. 
There was a lot of work to do. He still had another layer of walls to break through, but he’d learn how to defeat and conquer. He’d learn how to stop building mazes for you. And it would be good for him, if it didn’t drive him insane first. 
You buried your nose into his hair. He groaned, slack in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, retreat. The other part of you rejoiced in the moment. You weren’t sure which one to listen to, but you and Kabru would figure it out with time. 
You and Kabru would figure a lot of things out together from now on. 
368 notes · View notes
Text
betrayed || masky
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tw: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. abuse? masky beats the shit out of you, gun play for like five seconds, choking, hate sex, breeding, size kink
a/n: everyone do me a favor and pretend the plot to this isn’t kinda all over the place
“You fucking bitch!”
Masky’s voice was hoarse, his fist colliding with your nose once more. You had lost track of time of how long you’d been here, your head hanging as you gasped for air. The beating was one you could handle, Slenderman having trained you well, but the guilt Masky was attempting to make you feel was something you couldn’t have prepared for. “After all these years, you’re going to betray us? You’re going to leave? To do what? Work for Trenderman?!” He hissed. He stomped before you, gripping the handles of your wooden chair with his gloved hands. His eyes were cold and merciless, peering at you from behind the mask he refused to take off. Your hands were bound behind you, the chains rattling as you attempted to breath with them wrapped around your ribcage.
Trenderman had offered you a position at his mansion. You’d continue being a proxy, but you’d be under his management instead of Slender’s. The Trenderman mansion was a more poised and mindful group of creeps, his proxies the same way. Cat Hunter and Kate had been assigned to him first, them being gifts from Slender. However they lacked leadership. That’s where you came in. Slender had four proxies including you, Trenderman had two. You were the newest member. It only made sense to formally invite you to lead the duo. Trenderman was classy like that, he wasn’t going to force you to do anything. Plus it would make him even with his brother, something he knew Slenderman would understand.
However, Masky did not understand.
Masky had discovered your invitation, as well as your agreement scribbled on it. It enraged him, leading him to drag you into his hellish chambers. The proxies were not afraid to torture someone and you were no exception. Toby and Hoodie were unaware of your choice, but Masky’s interpretation was betrayal. “After everything i’ve done for you, you leave to go be an uppity proxy for the goddamn Trender mansion?!” Masky snarled. The brunette had saved you time and time again. Being a female proxy with some sanity left meant you were a target, constantly. On missions, to the creeps. He fought off all of them for you. “What’s he offering you huh? To be the group leader?” He questioned. You briefly managed to meet his gaze, before looking back down as you panted.
You were sure one of your ribs was cracked, if not at the very least bruised to hell. Masky didn’t know how to control his anger, you knew that. Thats why you didn’t tell him or anyone except for Slender. You knew Slenderman let his mansion residents do pretty much whatever they wanted, but he was bound to his word. You knew he wouldn’t talk. What you hadn’t accounted for was Masky’s snooping. He had gone into your room, searching for you to join him for training. An ominous red envelope sat on your dresser and Masky will admit it, he couldn’t resist the temptation to open it. His lack of will power landed you covered in sweat and blood, the light bulb that dimly illuminated the room flickering. “So that’s it. None of us matter, as long as you’re in a position of power,” He concluded. He swiftly turned around, grabbing his small wooden chair and chucking it against the concrete wall.
The wood shattered into chips, causing you to cringe at the loud noise. “After everything i’ve done for you. Do you think taking a stab wound from Candypop was easy? Huh? All because he looked at you funny?” Masky rambled. You managed to clear your throat, swallowing the remaining saliva and blood that occupied your mouth. “You’re a shit leader Masky. You handle all of your problems just like this. Hot headed and without logic,” You hissed. Masky glared at the floor below, bracing himself against the concrete wall. “Let’s face it. Without Hoodie you wouldn’t know how to do shit. You may be the muscle but he’s the brains. You’re not the leader, you’re the fucking puppet for the puppeteer!” You yelled, venom lacing your words. Masky turned toward you suddenly, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. “Dont forget what you are princess. You’re a proxy just like the rest of us. This isn’t a promotion. You’re still going to be a filthy slave just like the rest of us. Do you really think it’s smart to burn bridges with the people you’re going to spend entirety with?” Masky seethed.
You shuddered under the feeling of his gloves, the material rough as you boldly stared back at him. He noticed the slight shift in your facial expression, the way your willpower was cracking. He chuckled darkly, a sadistic grin spreading across his lips under his mask. “Cmon princess I thought you were smart. Don’t tell me you really thought you were climbing up the corporate ladder,” Masky said. You wanted better. You wanted something better for yourself. Trenderman’s mansion seemed like a way out. A way to have some sort of structure and honor, even if your freedom was stripped away. “Fuck you Masky. You’re just pissed your hard work hasn’t paid off,” You growled. The brunette stood up, glaring down at you. You could feel blood droplets still trickling down your nose, threatening to spill over your lips. Masky grabbed your face, wiping his gloved thumb over the crimson paint.
You hated how flustered his touch made you, his large hands for once demonstrating some form of compassion. You snapped out of your trance, cringing at his tough. “Dont touch me,” You snapped, jerking your head away from him. Masky gritted his teeth, before smacking you across the face. This time you could taste blood, the metallic flavor dancing across your tastebuds. You choked, gasping for air as you spat onto the floor. “You call yourself a proxy? Unchain me and fight me like a man you bastard!” You hissed. Truthfully you didn’t know how much damage you could inflict in your position. You expected your nose to be broken somehow, blunt force trauma causing your nose to become a faucet. Your ribs were fucked, your jaw was popped just almost out of its socket. You were also sweaty, tired, and hungry. However you knew without a shadow of a doubt Masky was taking it easy on you. You had been tasked to torture people together. You knew what the sick fuck could do.
“You wanna fight? Fine. Prove to me you deserve to be a leader,” Masky grumbled. He huffed behind you, undoing your shackles. The chain clanked to the floor, immediately relief washing over your bruised wrist. The minute you were free, you caught Masky off guard. You swiped around him, grabbing his gun that was tucked into his back waistband. You knew exactly where he kept it, you didn’t need any other attack. You pointed the gun directly at his temple, backing him against the wall. He slowly raised his hands, scrawling at you from behind the mask. “Pathetic. I expected more from you,” You spat. Forcefully you grabbed his mask off his face, revealing the hateful expression he wore proudly. “You betrayed us. You betrayed me,” Masky argued. You took the end of the gun, removing it from his temple and shoving it past his lips. “Open your mouth or i’ll break your teeth in,” You threatened. In an odd way you liked this, humiliating him like this. After how much he had put you through, putting the end of a gun in his mouth was the least you could get away with.
Masky stared wide eyed as he loosened his jaw, allowing the gun to go inside of his mouth. There was something about it, something erotic he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the danger that he knew his gun brought. Or the amount of blood that the weapon had produced. Or maybe it was the determined stare you were giving him, your eyebrows furrowed and face hardened. You were so cute like this, so angry. You were always feisty, Masky knew that was a character trait of yours long before you joined his little band of misfits. And honestly, with the blood dripping down your face and messy hair, he had never been more turned on his life. You picked up on the subtle body language changes Masky was making, the sight causing you to raise your furrowed eyebrows. His face was turning a light tint of pink. “What’s your problem?” You asked, genuinely confused. You glanced down, Masky’s boner visible through his jeans. “What the fuck-” You whispered. Masky used your shock to his advantage, swiftly flipping you both around.
He disarmed his gun from you, pinning you against the wall. Lazily he tossed the weapon aside, using his hands to corner you. “Enough games princess. Let’s face it. We’ve always had tension. It’s always been you and me. The late night car rides when we’re the only ones awake. The way we make each other coffee. I see the way you look at me. You can’t lie,” Masky hissed. He wedged his knee in between your thighs, rubbing up against your clothed cunt. “You wanna up and leave? You wanna leave me?” He asked. For a brief moment he looked upset, insulted even. “The real betrayal is not you trying to leave, it’s you trying to leave and act like there’s nothing between us princess,” He snarled. His face hardened once more, your core beginning to throb from the pressure his knee was providing. “Please, just let me have a taste of heaven once,” He mumbled lowly. You stared up at him, grabbing handfuls of his jacket. You pulled him towards you, pressing your blood stained lips against his. His lips were rough against yours, desperate and hungry.
How long had he waited for this? To grab your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You both were like feral animals, tearing at each other clothes. “Someone’s eager, hmm?” Masky teased, relieved to see you match his energy. You pushed him, forcing to sit down in the chair you once sat in. You straddled his hips, rolling them against his aching cock. “Fucking hell princess, you’re killing me here,” Masky groaned. His large hands gripped your ass, squeezing it harshly. Your shirt was long discarded, your hands beginning to fiddle with the clip of your bra. “Please, allow me,” Masky grinned, reaching around and unclipping your bra in a swift motion. He began peppering kisses against your chest, your hips continuing to roll against his. “I didn’t think you’d even know what a bra was, you’re such a virgin,” You smirked, tilting your head back. Masky began sucking at your breast, purposefully missing your exposed hardened nipples. He was littering your skin with marks, his chocolate eyes never straying from yours. He released your skin with a pop, his lips a darker pink. “I don’t fuck like one, but you’ll find that out first hand,” He argued.
Finally he brought your left nipple to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. He had waited so long to hear that mouth of yours moan his name, your head tilted back and his name falling off of your tongue. You were soaking through your panties, the dampness forming a wet spot through your shorts and onto Masky’s jeans. “Fuck, Masky,” You whined, his tongue swirling around your nipple. He grunted as he grabbed you, throwing you onto the hard concrete floor before crawling on top of you. “You’re such an inconsiderate asshole,” You gritted through your teeth, lifting your hips to help him remove your shorts. Masky tossed them aside carelessly, before undoing his belt. The sound of clinking metal sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Funny, coming from the traitor,” He huffed. He shoved down his jeans and boxers, his hard cock visibly twitching as Masky eyed your cunt. He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as the concrete pricked at your bare back. “In all my fantasies i’ve eaten you out for hours, made you squirm beneath me and beg for more. But if i’m being honest with myself, your betrayal has never made me want to fuck you more. I’m not going to wait,” Masky whispered.
His teeth grazed your earlobe, causing you to shiver as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your swollen sex. You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Brace yourself princess,” He grumbled, before abruptly shoving himself inside of you. You gasped, your eyes wide and staring at the flickering lightbulb above as he split you in half. Your nails dug into his back, the sharp pain making him grit his teeth. “You can take it. I know you can,” He grunted, pushing himself in further. Your gummy walls were clinging to him, milking his cock in further even as you struggled to take him. Your body was screaming in an odd mixture of pain and pleasure, Masky’s lips pecking sloppy kisses against your ear and down to your neck. “I fucking hate you Masky. I always have. I hate the way you make me feel,” You confessed. You screwed your eyes shut as your body began to relax, Masky’s lips not letting up for a second. “You wanna know why i’m transferring to Trender’s? I refuse to fall in love with you. You sick twisted fuck,” You admitted, your last insult turning into a groan as Masky bottomed out inside of you. He lifted himself, just enough to where he was hovering over you. “I hate you too princess. But don’t lie to yourself. I feel the way you’re squeezing me. It’s a little too late for that,” Masky barked, before slowly moving his hips.
You moaned as he began to snap his hips into yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. His gloved hand came to your throat, viscously beginning to choke you. You gasped, your moans becoming restricted as he fucked you. “You’re such a fucking whore. You know that? Those little shorts you wear on missions. You think i’m the only one who noticed?” Masky rambled. His anger fueled his thrust, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. He choked you harder, your groans becoming choked sounds as he plowed into you. “Toby jerks off to you behind closed doors. Did you know that? And Hoodie has secretly recorded you showering so many times I can’t recall how many of those shitty cameras i’ve destroyed,” Masky continued, His eyes were full of darkness and rage, staring down at you intimidatingly. Your nails sank deeper into his back, Masky’s cock twitching at the sensation. He began to fuck you harder, releasing your throat and relishing in the sight of you gasping for air. “You’re never gonna forget me, i’m not going to let you,” Masky grumbled. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, listening to you mercilessly moan his name. It was the sweetest mantra he had ever heard and he attempted to ingrain it into his memory as he fucked you.
“I’m gonna fill you to the fuckin brim with my cum. You wanna play games? You’ll never get rid of me. I’ll leave you with a kid that looks just like me,” Masky groaned. Your walls squeezed his tighter, a sadistic smirk forming across his lips. “Oh you like that you sick little slut? Being bred by me? Why didn’t you just say so?” He questioned mockingly. You could feel your own orgasm approaching quickly, his filthy words making you come closer and closer to the edge of euphoria. “Masky, please, so close,” You whined, your fingers now entangling themselves with his thick brown hair. Masky rewrapped his fingers around your throat, pushing you down further against the pavement as he grunted into your neck. This was humiliating and borderline disgusting, yet you were on a high not even Slenderman himself could ruin. Your orgasm was sudden, Masky’s thrust not halting for a second as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your brain didn’t have time to process anything, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your walls milked Masky to his own high. Your name fell off of his lips as he came buried inside of you, both of you panting messes as his seed painted your inner walls.
“I think I may stay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
365 notes · View notes
animeyanderelover · 9 months
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Characters of your choice from JJK with a darling who has a tattoo of their ex please
Holidays, everyone! I finally have my holidays! I changed it slightly so that the darling has a tattoo of the name of their ex.
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, manipulation, controlling behavior, forceful behavior, death
S/o has a tattoo of the name of their ex
Fushiguro Megumi
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💙You have never told him of your tattoo before, aware how paranoid Megumi tends to be. Perhaps that would have been the wiser choice yet instead he discovers the name engraved on your skin himself as you fail to cover the name on your shoulder in time as he accidentally walks in on you changing. Thick silence befalls the room as he just stands there, frozen as his eyes are glued to the black kanji signs on your skin. His mind repeats the name over and over again until he suddenly remembers where he has heard it before. His heart drops, a lumb of fear and insecurities forms at the back of his throat and his eyes widen frantically. You try to come up with something, anything to explain this to him yet he is faster. Suddenly he stands in front of you, arms seizing your shoulders as he asks you with a slightly raised voice why you never told him that you had a tattoo of your ex. Why?? Why would you do that?? Were...were they that important to you? What about him then?
💙He can't bear to look at you the same way as before after that for quite some while, not without imagining the name of your ex tattooed on your shoulder. It's like a marking that spells out that you once loved someone else and whenever he actually sees your tattoo, he feels something clenching deep inside his chest. His insecurities and paranoia increase as he starts wondering if you still harbor feelings for your ex. Going as far as carrying a tattoo of their name around is a pretty big sign of devotion after all. You find yourself having a harder time to calm him down, the tattoo on your shoulder triggering him whenever he catches a glimpse of it. It haunts him, torments him a bit and he has wondered a couple of times already if he has to threaten your ex as paranoia poisons his ability to think rationally and instead whispers into his mind that you might return to your ex. He knows that it isn't good for his sanity which is why at some point he begs you to remove it somehow. Please, it torments him.
Zenin Maki
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💚​Maki has known about your tattoo for a longer while now, it's hard to hide something written on your wrist with black and permanent ink after all. She already questioned this decision of yours back then quite a bit because it's quite risky to get a tattoo of the name of your ex without any guarantee that they'll stay. All you could do back then was to give her a pitiful laugh as you couldn't help but agree with her. Back then this was still fine though but now it is a different story as she's grown rather possessive over you. The tattoo is an eyesore for her whenever she sees it and due to the visible spot you chose, she sees it multiple times a day. She lets out a scoff whenever her eyes find the kanji signs and her mood is almost always worsening a tad bit whenever she spots the name of your former lover. At least she is reasonable enough to understand that both of you have broken it up for good so she isn't as wavering and paranoid as Megumi. She knows that you don't have any feelings for them anymore.
💚​That doesn't mean that she hasn't completely forgiven you for your stupidity to get a tattoo in the first place. In fact she is scolding you more nowadays for your decision than before. Maki knows that you regret that mistake yourself but she can't help it sometimes, she is a bit mad and tends to express that with not so kind words. At the very least she notices that her words only cause you to feel worse so she tries to comfort you as good as she can everytime her tongue slips and she accidentally cuts you with her words. She makes it very clear to you though that she greatly dislikes that you have the name of someone else decorating your body whilst you're together with her and you can't even blame her for it. She would appreciate for you to somehow get rid of this tattoo and sometimes you have the feeling that her wish sounds more like a demand.
Gojo Satoru
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🩵​It's perhaps not the best idea to let Gojo ever find out about your tattoo but how is that even supposed to work? The man is so terribly clingy and intrusive and despite his goofy facade, you have a feeling that he might react very badly to the sight of your tattoo. You try to figure out a way how to tell him as harmlessly as possible but you can't come up with anything. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference in the first place. That's at least what you think as you try to wiggle free from his unusually tight grip, one of his hands lifting up your shirt as dull blue eyes stare at the name written slightly above your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat when those same blue eyes finally meet your own and you feel like you could drown within the abyss of the darkness swirling behind those beautiful orbs. A forced smile stretches his face as he asks you why you have someone's name tattooed on your body. Especially that of your ex.
🩵​You have a hard time convincing him not to go after your ex as your gut screams at you that something terribly will happen otherwise. You beg him to have mercy since both of you have ended the relationship years ago and you don't even have any contact with them anymore. You swallow heavily when his heavy and colder gaze rests on you yet still plead him to not do anything to them as you promise to do whatever he wants. Your wish is somewhat granted as Gojo doesn't harm them but he still wants to have seen the person whose name stains your skin at least once. Needless to say, he is disappointed when he sees your ex who is in his eyes a nobody but perhaps that reassures him a tiny bit. He can't help but torment and scare the poor soul though and they don't know even why. He organizes an appointment for you where the tattoo will be completely removed and only after that he seems to return to his usual self, happily kissing the now empty spot on your skin.
Kamo Choso
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🩸​Choso is absolutely attached to your hips. He's needy, soft-spoken, careful and surprisingly considerate. If he wouldn't have been your kidnapper and creepy stalker, you might have appreciated him more though. There is something about him that sometimes just unsettles you and he himself doesn't even seem to notice when he's creeping you out until he witnesses your reaction. You don't even notice him until you feel his fingertips brushing against your skin and nearly jump out of your skin, turning bewildered around to see Choso staring at the same spot where your tattoo was only a few moments ago. He doesn't move as he now stares into empty air as if trying to process something until dark eyes finally meet your own. He swallows before apologizing that he just walked in on you without telling you anything. A few seconds of silence before you hear him asking you once again, this time in a slightly shaky tone, what that was he just saw on your back.
🩸​It's like Choso initially refuses to believe that a tattoo is something permanent as he rejects the thought that you will walk around with a name of your ex-lover forever engraved onto your being. You wake sometimes up in the middle of the night only to feel his hand rubbing against the tattoo as if trying to erase it himself, you notice the way his hands start trembling when he realizes that the ink doesn't fade away even a tiny bit and pray that he won't have a meltdown. Choso would never blame you for it but that means that his hostility is turned against your ex as he starts genuinely believing that they tricked you and manipulated your feelings, abused your kindness which is why you were fooled into getting such a tattoo. He never goes out to kill them though, only because you stop him though and successfully manage to coax him into not doing such a thing and instead he just clings onto you. He asks you anxiously more than once if there is a way to get rid of the tattoo and you know that it's probably the best way to preserve his sanity somehow.
Mahito
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🔷​Good luck in general with Mahito because that is a recipe for disaster anyways. Mahito's perception of love differs greatly and is much more twisted and warped than anything and in his eyes he wouldn't even label his feelings as love. He likes to view you more as a sweet experiment, an interesting specism he just likes to spend time with whilst poking and tormenting you to gauge all of your reactions. The best you can do is try to endure it without giving him too much of a reaction because the bastard loves seeing you respond strongly to anything he does. Unfortunately you don't react quite as level-headed as you would like to have when he notices the dark ink on your legs and suddenly yanks you towards him, his hands roughly holding your leg, unimpressed by the way you're kicking and hissing at him. Cold fingers brush over the lettering on your skin, mismatched eyes curiously go back and forth between your eyes and the dark ink on your thigh before he asks you what this is.
🔷​He's genuinely interested to hear your reasons why you would decide to have the name of your ex tattooed on your skin and it is hard for you to tell if he is angry at all about it or not. He's definitely mocking and degrading you though as he labels you stupid for doing something like this despite never having known if they would actually stay with you. His fingers are still tracing over the tattoo and when he suddenly falls quiet for a while, you realize that he's thinking about something. Then he suddenly asks you if you just feel better if you have someone's name on your body which successfully makes you feel like you belong to someone. You're offended by his words but he doesn't give you time to answer as a grin suddenly flashes across his face, his grip tightening as he says with an excited tone that he wants to see his name on your skin too. You can't do anything but watch as your leg deforms in a grotesque way before returning to it's normal form. Your previous tattoo has disappeared and instead the kanji signs now read Mahito's name. Do you want more~?
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the-witch-of-one-piece · 10 months
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Control 18+ Ft: Shuji Hanma, Taiju Shiba, & Ran Haitani WC:1400+ Resident: @enchantedforest-network Synopsis: You belong to them and they have to remind you that when you start to act out. They will put you in your place and you won't fight them doing so. (I wouldn't fight them not one bit 💀) TW: Masturbation (F! reader receiving), Morally Grey Men, Possessive Behavior, Choking, fingering, finger sucking, pet names (baby girl, brat), slight stalking, degrading names (slut), calling them daddy, strong language, dominating trait from the three men, jealousy, you belong to them.
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Hanma
“Tsk tsk like I told you to keep your legs open for me.” Hanma cooed in your ear. Your back pressed against his chest.
Your panties were tossed on the floor. Your legs spread slightly open. The way his fingers brush between your slits causes you to squirm uncontrollably. Hanma leaned over your shoulder, his golden eyes gazing at his tattooed hand between your legs. “Just the slightest touch is making you quiver this much?” the cocky tone left his devilish lips as he could feel your juices on the tips of his fingers. 
The way he did it was always a teasing matter, he knew it drove you crazy. “Stop teasing me so much.” biting back the moans as your eyes closed savoring this sinful touch his fingers could do to you. It was hard to separate yourself from him, he came and went when he felt like it. The consistency was never there when you really needed him. You said to yourself you were finally done putting up with his bullshit and mind games. You even questioned your own sanity wondering if he even loved you? If he did… he had a strange way of showing it to you. When you decided to go out with someone different you wouldn’t have guessed he followed you and your company the entire evening. 
Your company wouldn’t even make it into your apartment when Hanma finally had enough of what he liked to call the ‘little game’ you were playing. The poor guy didn’t know what hit him (literally). Hanma with a look in his eyes you could describe them as dangerous and yet sexy, almost making you want to get on your knees in front of him ready to take your punishment. 
 You were putty in the palm of Hanma’s hands and you hated how vulnerable he could make you feel and yet you wanted him to touch you more. Just like a drug, you couldn’t get enough. 
 “Just remember I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.” his fingers pushing more between your slits “Your pretty little cunt is mines and mines only. You thought I was kidding when I said no one else could touch you?” his long slender fingers sliding into your moisten cunt feeling the warmth of your walls. “See I can’t leave you alone for a few days without you acting like such a little slut….You disappointed me.”
“I’m-I’m sorry.” you whimpered as his fingers were pumping in and out of you. His fingers are getting nice and coated with your sweet nectar. “Oh fuck please don’t stop.”
“And if I do? How badly do you want it, my little slut?” 
“Bad Shuji baby~~” you whimpered.
“Tell me who you belong to?” The possessive tone was making its appearance in his voice. He added another finger into your warm little cunt.
“Shuji Hanma~~~” tossing your head back slightly against the lanky man.
Taiju 
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Taiju watched you avoid direct eye contact. “We are not done talking.”
“I’m done talking.” You shot him a quick look and began walking to the shared room. You began undoing the expensive dress he bought you just a few days ago for this special event. Where he was sitting, he clicked his tongue and began rolling up his sleeves getting up from his seat following you to the bedroom. 
‘god damn brat.’ Taiju being the observant man a few hours prior the dress looked great on you but he noticed some more unwanted looks. Even Taiju overheard a conversation about you and your dress with a few men he knew. He fucking hated how they were speaking about you. He just wanted to rip their throats out. It took every inch of him to control himself and not make a spectator of himself just like he did when he was younger. You were enjoying yourself but it was being cut short by him. When you asked him he didn’t give you an answer but simply moved you towards the exit. It frustrated you because he wouldn’t even tell you the reason and that's when you became more sassy with him. You weren’t going to look at him. 
It wouldn’t take long for you to hear his footsteps enter your bedroom. The dress slides down your frame as you reach for your silk robe placing it on. “Like I said we are not done talking you damn brat.”
“And I say we are.” you picked up the dress and placed it on the back of the chair. 
It was driving him crazy that you wouldn’t look at him. The large structure man walks towards you. In a quick motion, you were pinned between him and the wall. His large hand pinning both of your hands above your head. Still avoiding to look at him “Even pinning your hands above your head you still can’t look at me.” his large hand was around your neck applying enough pressure to get your attention. “Apparently, I need to wrap my hand around that pretty neck of yours to have you look at me like a good girl.”  Taiju's eyes focused on yours as they traveled to his hand around your neck. He felt his growing bulge forming in his pants. “Look what you do to me. Getting me all worked up..” his voice was low raspy the hint of his bourbon mixed with the cigarette he was smoking lingered on his breath. 
“Now… Are you going to listen to me when I tell you to do something?” he asked you. You didn’t argue as you nodded. “I can't hear you.” the slightly taunting in his voice. 
“Yes daddy.” your eyes are still on his.
“Good girl… Now get on your knees for me and show Daddy how much you love him.”
Ran
Sitting on his lap, it was becoming more apparent he was looking at your left hand more. His fingers seem to play with the ringless ring finger. Ran began picturing what kind of ring he was planning on placing on your finger. “Something on your mind Ran?” Looking at the violet eye lover. His eyes drifted from your ring finger to your doe-eyed expression. “Thinking about what kind of ring will look good on your finger baby girl. I think it’s been long overdue and I want to get it now.” 
You cocked your brow at him “Really now?” with a playful smirk “What makes you think I will wear it now?”
“As my future wife, it will be suitable. You would want to wear the ring your future husband bought now wouldn’t you?” Your fingers combed through his soft smooth short hair. “If I don't?” 
“You will, I will make sure of it.” He reached for your fingers intertwining them with his. Sliding you off his lap onto the couch, his hand still intertwined with yours. You were sliding lower onto the couch as he was hovering over you. “You and I both know well if I place a collar around your neck you wouldn’t remove it or just like when you ride my face until you cum. No one is capable of taking you from me either.”  
He had you right there. No doubt in his mind and he was right you wouldn’t decline anything he wanted to do. He would be able to convince you to walk down the street in lingerie if he wanted to. He had this sort of power over you and it always made you cave in. “I get it, Ran. You know I’m teasing Ran.” you playfully said, “I’m yours.”
Other than the three words he loved hearing, he also loved those two words  “Say it again baby girl.” Lowering his head lower towards your lips lightly brushing against yours. The light touch of his light sent a tingling sensation throughout your body.  
“I’m yours.”  You lifted your head slightly as your lips pressed against his. 
“That’s my girl~” Ran smoothly said to you. Ran freed his hand from yours, his index finger brushing against your bottom lip. The tip of your tongue lightly brushes against the tip of his finger. With no asking from him, your lips began sucking on his finger. “I bet you would be sucking me off so good just like always a baby girl. Seeing those pouty lips around my cock how you take me inch by inch.” he continued to watch you suck on his finger.
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