#tw; manipulating
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Hello 🖤 I love seeing your blog pop up in my feed, simply exquisite 🖤
I have a request. What would older Terry Silver do with an adult student who is rather boisterous in class, she listens but only when she wants, she's a smarty pants. Terry so wishes to teach her a lesson after many months of class passing, learning her mannerisms, learning HER. Ever the voyeur, finding her home, seeing what lies within when she's not home, Terry plans a little 'private lesson,' specifically for her at his home dojo. Ending with his gi sloppy on him, his hair a mess like the slut he is with his student underneath him with no mercy being shown. His student definitely listens to HIS wants and desires, eager to please.
Breaking Stone.
(Terry Silver x Reader)
---
-"How safe is this, Sensei? I mean, it’s solid rock."-
Your voice speaks up from the gathered crowd and Terry Silver, he knew you’d have something to say without having to turn his back towards the mass of students keenly eyeing his demonstration in silence, standing jam packed in a circle around the erected board with a concrete block fastened to the center of the scaffolding propped up on iron legs, following his every word like a mantra only for him predict that your mouth will eventually move to utter something and dare interrupt him. Class fifty eight. A lesson on Brick Breaking. Tools necessary; pretty straightforward. A slab of rock and a fist. Additional spices; your usual commentary in the midst of it all. Happened almost daily. Happened to the degree it was a constant he could count on. -"We’ll break our hands on that."- You add with a sense of urgency and worry once the entirety of the exercise’s participants turn their eyes towards you, scrutinizing, weighing and accessing what you just blurted out and you tended to blurt out stuff frequently. Terry joins them in their quiet staring, finding a twitch of satisfaction stir through him once he realized you were jittery and stuttering, made self aware through the fact you were the sudden center of attention. Needing to justify yourself for placing the spotlight unto yourself, you blurt out some more bullshit. Nerves, was it? You deserved that. Deserved much worse for stepping out of line. -"What do we do in case we tear our ligaments punching the board?"- You ask, scratching the back of your head. Ligaments? Were you frightened of getting a boo-boo? At that point, Terry allows himself to turn his entire body towards you, taking his time, slowly --- painfully slowly --- looking straight ahead, towards you. You shift, from one bare foot on the mat to the other, like the stillness of everything around you gave you a sense of discomfort.
Stew in it. He hoped you'd stew in it.
-"Seems a bit extreme. Sorry."-
You chuckle, apologizing, looking down. Then back up.
Terry has to chuckle with you, neatly folding his hands in front of him.
A bit extreme? It was meant to be extreme.
-"Our student here thinks our methods are strange, but these classes aren’t mandatory."-
He simply shrugs matter-of-factly, addressing the people around him, all eyes leave you and pinning themselves in his direction instead, encircling him like a tightly closed ring, listening attentively, leaving you even more isolated in your folly. The great mother hen and the ducklings. The one, solitary ugly black duck that talked too much. -"Nobody’s here by force."- He explains, and contrary to popular belief, everyone here gave their signature of consent on a written contract. Terms. Conditions. Price rates. Health insurances. They showed up to daily classes because they wanted to, giving their hard earned money out of their own volition. He didn't go kidnapping people off of the streets of LA and harassing them into black Gi, in spite of what the likes of Larusso tried to accuse him of, same way not even Larusso himself was harassed into this, decades ago. -"Or are you all here by force?"- Terry purses his lips, looking around, enjoying this far too much to stop. In unison, they all speak up, one voice, stemming from one collective lung. -"No, Sensei!"- The dojo resonates with their shout. He tries again, spreading his arms, envisioning himself like Pontius Pilate about to wash his hands clean of you and let the crowds make their decisions. -"Why are you here for then?"- He inquires, raising his voice, encouraging them. Spurring them on. -"To learn, Sensei!"- Obeying, they repeat the motion, letting out a united cry and content, Terry squeezes his fingers into a fist once they all fall silent, all but an echo remaining, his other free hand caressing the concrete block in front of him, never taking his eyes off of you. At this point, with a mouth standing agape, forgetting you should've joined everyone in their jubilant war cry, you were as pale as a ghost. Not quite so chatty or smart anymore.
Perfect.
-"The lesson is —"- He begins. -"A true artist of the craft spends years, even decades just hitting things. Sand. Wood. Stone. Metal. Flesh."-
Terry coos, confessing, that he did, on occasion, imagine hitting you.
The sweetest thing he'd ever strike. Purely to shut you up, get you the way you were right now; As quiet as the dead; all gulps and anxious little eyes darting left and right. Preferably having you bent over his knee like an unruly child and taking the bamboo stick to you bare buttocks until they were rendered crimson red with punishment. After it was all done, he'd have you thanking him for the honor too. He smiles, just at the notion; an expression he doesn't bother hiding.
-"Having been broken so many times, it makes their bones so dense that when it comes in contact with solid rock, the rock breaks first."-
Terry digs his teeth into his lower lip, taking his stance and lunging forward suddenly, knuckles breaking through the barrier of the rock and crumbling, his fingers pushing through the crack he made on the other side. It was as simple as that. -"Asaa!"- He bellows and if the dojo was collectively holding it's breath, once he's done, the remains of sharp jagged tiny pebbles spilling on the mat under around his feet like so many rolling marbles, he senses an equally collective exhale. He can swear you weren't blinking at that point. What were you shocked by? The fact that he just smashed through a brick that weighed ten pounds like it was nothing or the implication he's broken his hand by choice so many times that he could pull shit like this in the first place? Maybe it wasn't smart to backtalk or question the methods of a person who could crush your windpipes in with merely just his thumbs. -"So, you see — breaking our fists, it’s part of the curriculum."- He shakes his head, staring you down, taking a couple of steps forward, until it was undeniable he was addressing you in particular; his infuriatingly Doubting Thomas, ignoring the students that wordlessly volunteered to clean up, scooting down to pick up the unfortunate remains of the rock slab, chirping away at the remains like a handful of chicks. -"This is part of what you signed up for when you came to this dojo. When you came to Cobra Kai."- He assesses firmly. -"You came to break with the old so the new and the improved could take its place."- He adds. Eventually, you'd have to bruise and break in those pretty little hands much like everyone else would and if you didn't have the guts to do that, you'd advance nowhere and your here would become fairly obsolete. Someone might as well tell you that upfront.
Even though, he confessed. The idea of a piece of rock breaking your hands?
Something shoots through him, like a radioactive phantasm of jealousy.
He wanted to do the breaking instead.
Not leave it up to an inanimate piece of training gear.
-"And if you can't imagine yourself doing that, you can always take up a knitting class."-
He adds, finally, earning himself a couple of amused chuckles.
Blood rushes into your cheeks.
Were you angry? Ashamed? Humiliated? Good.
—
Looking through your files was child's game after that.
He pretty much had everything he needed to know about you, printed in black and white in his own two hands, on the very exact form you filled the day you signed up for adulted classes six months ago; your home address, bank statement, contact number, email, age, place of employment, blood type in case an accident took place mid-training and a transfusion was needed on short notice. And yes, he's broken into your home before. Terry did it the first time you ever ran your mouth to backtalk him, asking if doing fifty consecutive push ups as warm was a smart decision because it was bound to leave everyone too exhausted to hold proper form and too distracted with tiredness to properly follow the class. He checked every drawer, every shelf, every nook, every cranny, supposing he wanted to find something he could spit on in indignation and discovering nothing more fitting but what he could only deduce was your framed graduation photograph, pursuing his lips and letting the saliva build up right before he hurled the spittle out of his mouth and right unto the glass inside of the frame, watching it trickle down your face, smearing it with his finger in retaliation, deciding the gesture was fitting punishment. If only he had a chance to do it with your actual face next. Spit in your mouth too, for refusing to shut up as it did. Spit in your mouth for missing three of your classes this week, like that was a thing you were allowed to do when you weren't. Did he tear into you verbally too hard last time? Was that it? Undoubtedly, but that still didn't give you permission to leave. He wanted you to come back so he could harass you some more, like you deserved to be harassed.
He knocks on your door, freshly having concluded this week's teaching.
Still in his Gi, jacket slung over his shoulders.
He did that on purpose, to make it seem like him coming here wasn't premeditated or something he tactically prepared for in advance, but rather, like a last minute decision he made in the utmost rush to the degree he didn't even have time to change out of his training attire, forgetful, overworked old man that he is. -"Who’s there!?"- Your concerned, slightly confused voice calls from the other end and he hears the keyhole clicking, only for your uncertain face to show up in the precipice of the doorframe illuminated by the warm light of your apartment's foyer looming like a halo behind you, brows practically jumping once you recognized him, appearing relieved. -"Sensei Silver!?"- You state in surprise, opening the door entirely, letting him step over the threshold, moving out of the way to usher him inside from the corridor. He tries not to seem too familiar with the territory, pretending not to know exactly where to stand; next to the shoe rack or the coat hanger. -"God. I’m so sorry. Got scared halfway to death!"- You place your hand over your chest, exhaling and smiling. Way too fidgety for someone who took Tang Soo Do classes. What were you afraid of? Of someone barging in and subduing you? -"What do I owe the honor of the visit! I didn’t expect anyone."- You shake your head, all charm. Of course he prepared an excuse for him being here and it comes in a form of a sleek pamphlet he produces from inside of his jacket, handing it to you. He had it printed, in bulk and giving out to everyone at the dojo solely so he could have a reason to give you one to you as well. -"The curriculum. For our future classes. I thought you might wanna look through it. Freshly printed."- Terry explains. He hoped you would've continued showing up, smart mouth you always were, but there you went, disappearing. If Muhammad wouldn't come to the mountain, the mountain would have to come to Muhammad.
-"You missed the last session so I brought it over personally. Where'd you go?"-
Terry feigns concern. He knew where you went. You were pegged down a notch.
Proceeded retreating with your tail behind your legs.
That's what you get for questioning him.
But, he didn't expect you to retreat quite so definitely.
Who'd you ask if you can do that? Did you ask anyone? Him?
You eyelashes flutter, like you were about to come up with an excuse.
-"I think you're right, Sensei. I mean, the whole Cobra Kai dojo scene, ---"-
You begin, looking away from him, vehemently staring at the pattern on the corridor carpet, holding the flyer with a sense of unease, like you weren't certain what to do with it. If you crumpled it up, he'd make you eat it. -"It ain't for me. I'm not cut out for it."- You confess, finally meeting his gaze, appearing a bit shy at the notion. He knew a tangent was incoming. Decides to let you have it. And knowing you, you wouldn't shut up any time soon in the next five minutes. -"I can't do any of those things you demonstrated last week. Break my bones on purpose? Smash through rocks? Ignore pain? I know when I'm out of my depth and there's no shame in admitting something ain't for me and gracefully moving on. What you said the last time --- you helped me see that. You really did."- You utter, in one solitary breath, and it takes everything within Terry not to laugh at you. So, humiliating in front of the whole class for interrupting him for the umpteenth time with some inane observation, you thought it was for your own good and that it made you see things more clearly? What? Was that why you left his dojo like it was a bus station? Did you really take up knitting as a hobby in the meantime as well? -"I had a great time studying these past few months under you, but I just can't continue."- You visibly gulp once he says nothing and you feel incentivized to further explain. You never had a problem with that before. Go ahead. He was giving you center stage to speak. So speak. -"I talk back. I interrupt. I question. I worry. I'm so sorry. I can't just let go and do it. Do what I'm supposed to do on the mat."- You add, your eyes widening, perhaps in anxiety, pupils dilating, looking back and forth between the surrounding furniture and the wall --- anywhere but at him. Why should he let you go? When it was so fun pushing your buttons? In fact, he decides you could use some more of that.
-"Do you like me?'-
He asks, bluntly. You take a step back, stammering.
-"Excuse me, sir?"-
-"I said, do you like me?"- He repeats himself, firmer.
Your mouth wordlessly forms a shape, but no sound comes forth.
You weren't certain what to say.
Finally.
You were speechless for once. That was a welcoming novelty.
-"Because, if you like me, you won't leave me here stranded, with one student less and waltz out impulsively, on such a short notice. That's not how things work. There's a price for that."-
He winds you up, deciding to stoke a fire and then immediately extinguish it, intending to fluster you for thinking what he led you to think, watching the abject shame settle into your expression like a newly formed wrinkle just because for a mere second, you thought this was a confession of something more than it was instead of a cleverly phrased and deliberately misguiding segway intended to put you on the spot and make you feel like an idiot with no listening comprehension. -"I'll pay everything I still own and ---"- You practically stumble over your words, clutching the pamphlet to your chest vigorously, like a shield, referencing unpaid lesson, trying to regain what little balance you had, visibly sweating bullets. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Terry steps forward, shutting you up. Commanding you to stay silent. -"Don't talk."- He orders, flatly, putting up his hand alongside his finger as a warning and then coming closer still, until the tip of it is practically pushing against your mouth. You appeared flaggerbasted. Like you weren't sure what was going on, too shocked to actually move. This was why confusing people into a state of paralytic awkwardness was paramount in verbal warfare. He pushed his index finger between your lips and you still didn't move, letting him get away with it, too stunned for words. -"For once, listen. Don't speak."- He murmurs, staring at your mouth, pushing his nail inside, feeling your wetness and finding your tongue, frozen stiff, clasping it with his thumb and index finger and holding it, pulling on it, until you groaned, trying to mutely gibber and failing. -"This is the thing that always talked back. Can't talk back anymore, can it?"- He taunts and you shake your head with an expression that would place deer in headlights to shame, shivering vigorously.
You've seen what his hands could do. What his fists could do.
He could rip your tongue out of your skull and it would pose little issue.
He felt you knew that right about now.
Practically dangled by the tip of your mouth's organ. Your head slumping back.
Unable to release yourself, you slowly lower yourself, to your knees.
-"That's good."- Terry coos, pleased, watching you drool all over his hand.
-"Open that pretty little mouth of yours and use it for something really valuable for a change."-
He purrs, even as his fingers go fidgeting, lower his Gi's trousers, loosening the obi around his waist, pulling his cock out of his briefs, showcasing it to you so the state of the situation would settle in. He'd hatefuck your mouth. He was already hard. Already dripping precum. Almost like the very act of coming here and pestering you served to do it for him as he, without much deliberation, pushed himself inside of your lips, taking in the sloppy, receptive moisture, enjoying the symbolism of the flyer he's given you falling next to you on the floorboard until you were practically kneeling atop of it. -"Perfect."- He hums, praising. -"You've been badgering and badgering and I can't tell you how many times I thought about interrupting class and just giving it to you, in front of everyone, right there, in the middle of the dojo. Let them all see what happens when someone questions Terry Silver and his methods."- Now it was his turn to make some confessions, fingers tangling into your hair, coiling into a fist, making you look at him with your watering, teary eyes. He amps up his pace, bobbing your head back and forth for you, using your tresses as reins. Look how you've infected him. Now he was the one rambling and loving it. -"But, I wanted the occasion to be something special. Someplace I could really savor it --- and what better place than right under your very own roof."- He closes his eyes, smiling, enjoying the sensation of tense pleasure building up in his gut, right before looking down at you with your brows furrowed. You were just now realizing this was premeditated. Poor you. -"Oh, don't look at me like that. Don't think I haven't been in here before. Been here a thousand times."- He chuckles into his own chin, moaning. Of course he's desecrated something miniscule every time you talked back as an elaborate form of revenge and violation, like wiping his cock on the curtain after masturbating on your bed. Nothing was for free. Disrespect certainly wasn't.
-"And you'll be seeing a lot more of me just yet. Don't think this is over. Don't think you can disassociating with Cobra Kai and me on a whim. You can't."-
He flat out threatens, his hips rutting vigorously against your head.
You thought this was a game?
You sign up to his dojo for like six months and call it quits when things get hard?
Cobra Kai was a brotherhood. A society. Not an extracurricular pastime or a hobby.
That's what people weren't getting. He didn't want them to just yet.
But you? He'd was breaking the news to you hard and fast in the flesh.
-"You belonged to me from the moment you met me and put on the Gi and you'll belong to me until your dying breath."-
He grits his teeth, shaking, seething, feeling his tresses slide out of his ponytail and unto his forehead in an unruly mess, satisfaction coiling in his groin imaging you returning to the dojo on Monday, dressed in your uniform, all neat and proper, your attitude curbed and kept only for special occasions, releasing suddenly, just at the thought that he owned you, hearing you gurgle from the floor, droplets of his cum trickling down your chin and leaking unto the Cobra Kai pamphlet on the parquet in front of you. No, no. That wouldn't do. Not a single ounce wasted. -"Swallow."- Terry orders, catching his breath, scrutinizing you as you did so, still holding your hair, yanking forward suddenly, his cock falling out of your mouth, giving you leeway to breathe again and you do, gasping with sharp inhales of breath, a bubble of saliva popping between your lips as you rolled back to sob and cough. Pathetic. Eager to serve. So you were capable of shutting the fuck up, letting go and getting lost in an action after all? You were teachable. He knew you would be. Much like the rock slab on the training dummy, though, you needed to be broken in first. Terry slides his hand across the top of his head, slicking loose hair strands back, lifting up his finger to threaten and warn once again. Remind, in case you've forgotten. Had your brains scrambled in all sorts of awkward and unlikely directions. -"So, you better not miss out on any of my classes ever again or I'll have a reason to hold a very, very big grudge. Especially if you don't show up and break that stone like I've taught everyone to do. Understood?"-
-"Yes, Sensei."- You manage desperately, drooling, nodding your head.
#terry silver#old man terry#kk3#cobra kai#terry silver x reader#terry silver x beloved#tw; dubious consent#tw; teacher and student#tw; facefucking#tw; hatefucking#tw; stalking#tw; manipulating#tw; mind games#tw; all the warnings
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#girlblogging#coquette girl#this is what makes us girls#hell is a teenage girl#im just a girl#tumblr girls#girlhood#girl interrupted#girl rotting#this is a girlblog#girl interupted syndrome#girlblog interrupted#gaslight gatekeep girlblog#live laugh girlblog#girlblog aesthetic#my girlblog#just a girlblog#female rage#female manipulator#female hysteria#lana core#lana stan#i need a lobotomy#live laugh lobotomy#femcel#coquette#lobotomy chic#tw lobotomy#lobotomy corporation#it girl
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Catching Soap taking pics of you in an airport terminal...
You try to ignore it. Maybe he was taking a picture of the airport in general, maybe it was a selfie- either way, you’re not about to confront a man that looks like bootcamp and protein powder incarnate in the case that he is.
Once boarded, you find yourself beside a kind-looking older woman that lets you have the window seat, the prior incident readily forgotten as you settle in. A flight attendant crouches beside her, but you pay it no mind, too busy prepping your in-flight comforts to watch on while the woman gathers her belongings and vacates the seat.
You lean back, waiting for take-off.
"-here you are, Sergeant- once again, we're deeply sorry about the seating mix-up with your partner- a-and thank you for your service, we hope you'll continue to fly with us."
That snaps you out of your thoughts.
Looking up, you find the man from earlier staring down at you with a pleased grin. After a beat, his head swings back around to the flight attendant.
"Dinnae worry 'bout tha'- just glad it got sorted."
He tosses his carry-on overhead, arms bulging with the movement before he plops himself down into the seat beside you, an exasperated grunt passing his lips. He lifts the seperating arm rest, thick legs spreading out so your thighs touch.
"-um?"
He clicks his tongue and jerks his knee into yours. "Saw ye' looking at me in the terminal, would be a shame t'leave ye' be, aye?"
#followed by a flight of him chatting your ear off#boasting about his achievements and swiping at the locked gallery in his phone dedicated to his nudes.#angling it just enough for you to see what he's working with of course.#he doesn't let you get up for the rest of the flight btw#then upon landing he only lets you out after you give him your number#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#soap#x reader#cloth writes#tw manipulation
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Far too much talk about how "dangerous" psychotic/schizophrenic people are. Far too little talk about how easy it can be for an abuser to take advantage of a person who is already labeled as "crazy". We're usually among the victims - not the perpetrators.
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#ultraviolence#the feminine urge#i’m just a girl#female manipulator#bed rotting#girl rotting#hell is a teenage girl#female hysteria#older man <3#older man younger girl#olderwhitemanxyoungerblackgirl#older male#older boyfriend#older is better#hot older man#tw kidnapping#kidnapping cw#kidnapping/sleep#bruised#older guys#soft black women#soft black girls#im just a girl#just girly things#yandere kidnapper#lolita fashion#lolita1997#sweet lolita#classic lolita#gaslight gatekeep girlboss
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Beat Your Heart to Death
tw: explicit content, extremely toxic dynamics. gojo/geto, gojo/reader, geto/reader, and yes, stsg/reader. female!reader. mutual pining, requited unrequited feelings, the yearning, good god, the YEARNING. relatively unwilling voyeurism. EXTREMELY manipulative dynamics – boundary pushing, gaslighting, etc.
satoru and suguru are completely fucking deranged. their brains are operating on a level where human consciousness and emotion just hits different. they say INSANE shit at the end of this fic. you have been warned.
Sequel: Heartline Gone Flat

This must be what dying feels like.
You watch them, together. Leaning against one another, sleeping, vulnerable. Curled up in each other's embrace.
This must be what dying feels like. Seeing the man you love and the man you lust for, so painfully, peacefully, blissfully in love with each other.
If this is dying, you're surely going to hell for thinking something so awful about a feeling so beautiful.
It’s the sort of thing you think to yourself, bury deep – deep – inside the recesses of your mind. Dredging it out in the late hours of the night when you can’t sleep. Wallowing in your unrequited love, feeling sorry for yourself, while also comforting yourself with the thought that at least now you didn’t have to do anything.
You would never have to approach your longtime crush, Suguru Geto, and potentially ruin your friendship with him. It was something you’d struggled with for years, and after Gojo showed up – you didn’t have to struggle anymore. It was already lost.
And the insane twists your fantasies would play out for you, in those lonely nights in bed – you could be free of those, too. You could completely dismiss the insane idea of propositioning the man-whore menace of a human being who made your heart race, Satoru Gojo.
Satoru and Suguru loved each other, and it would be wrong to get in the way of that. At this point, even saying anything to either of them would be a trespass on your friendship, with both of them.
That was all there was to it. Nothing more to be done. You were mourning your feelings. Strangling your dreamy sighs at Suguru’s kind gestures, stomping the flutter in your chest when you caught Satoru smiling. Killing your heart and leaving it to rot, stepping around it like it’s not there.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape the fact that all three of you lived together.
It doesn’t help that Satoru is just as prone to PDA with Suguru as he was with all his numerous hookups. More, even, because he doesn’t keep it to just his bedroom, doesn’t make the token efforts to stay quiet at night and shoo them out in the morning.
You do your best. Look away. Try to ignore how your heart jumps, twists, does all sorts of funny things at the sight of them kissing.
Satoru’s pretty white lashes flutter closed, Suguru’s warm gaze softens, cheeks flushed as Satoru’s hands jump up to cling to him. He cups Satoru’s face like it’s a treasure, tilting his head and leaning into the kiss like he can’t get enough of it –
You’re staring, fuck. You’re looking too closely. The scene burns itself into your eyes and you want to rip them out, never see it again. But you struggle to avert your gaze, greedy mind committing every detail to memory with a racing heart, dry mouth.
Thirsty, you’re so thirsty, in every sense of the word. They lean into each other, so in sync and so affectionate in a way that tugs on your every heart string. Fuck!
You start to just leave the room when it happens. You’d rather die than get caught staring, you’d rather go without water than thirst for droplets.
And you’d really, really, rather cut your fucking eyes out than face the feelings the sight awakens in you. Longing, yearning, how you want to tear them both off each other at once, how you want to see more, more, more, you want to touch, you want to taste –
God, fuck. You’re like one of those shitty girls who fetishizes male relationships. Aren’t you? You feel like this might be that. But you’re attracted to both of them individually, so it can’t be that, right? You’re not a creep, you’re just greedy. You leave the room when they kiss! You’re respecting their privacy!
They notice, though, is the thing. Not your staring (god you fucking hope they’ve never noticed the staring) but how you leave the room when they get affectionate with each other. It’s Suguru who pulls you aside to ask.
“…and listen, I know you’re not like that, I totally know, so does Satoru. It just… makes him feel a little weird, you know? He was raised by a traditional family, so they either think this is a phase, or call him disgusting to his face.”
Fuck your life. Actually fuck your ENTIRE life. “Of course not – I never – ”
“No no no, I know, I told you, he does too, it’s just – it’s a little disconcerting for him. But I can talk to him, make him understand. This is your house, too, you have the right not to see that sort of stuff.”
That just makes you feel a bit worse, actually. Satoru and Suguru shouldn’t have to hide away in their room whenever they want to kiss. It’s their own home.
“I’m sorry, Suguru, I – I don’t have any problem with you guys doing it around the house. I just…” You shift uncomfortably. “I’m not super comfortable with… PDA sort of stuff. It has nothing to do with you both being guys.”
Suguru nods, “No, I understand completely. Satoru will be disappointed, but you’re setting boundaries, and I respect that – ”
“It’s not that,” You say, “I – you can do whatever you like, really, I’ll just leave – ”
“No,” Suguru interrupts with a sigh, “That’s what’s bothering him. I think deep down he’s a little worried that you find it… disturbing.”
Your chest tightens with anxiety as you rush to reassure him, “Of course I don’t!”
“No, I know, I know, we both do,” Suguru says in that warm, comforting voice of his, “It’s just how he feels – you know he can’t control that.”
And then your stupid mouth rushes ahead of you. Writes a check your heart can’t afford to cash.
“It’s fine! You don’t have to stop, I. Just… tell him I felt like I was intruding. I didn’t think he saw it as me being disgusted.”
And your heart will pay willingly, because Suguru gives you that smile. Warm and affectionate. The smile you’d fallen in love with.
“You’re not intruding at all. I’ll tell him you said so, it’ll be a great weight off his mind.”
So now the love of your life makes out with his boyfriend and you can’t even leave the room. Hahah. God. Maybe you should start thinking of a way to move out?
Problem: When Satoru moved in, he’d basically started paying all the bills. He didn’t have to worry about being cut off from the family money – even at his young age, he had his own financial success. Even if it started out with a few trust funds and an appointed position at one of his parent’s companies.
Every rent listing looked expensive when your current rate was “free”. And fuck, rent was expensive. You’d have to deal with other roommates, people you didn’t know (and love) as long as Suguru (and Satoru, at this point, you’d known him for years), and you’d be paying for the privilege.
You try, oh, do you ever try to get over it. Sexuality is fluid, after all, so it’s perfectly possible that Satoru and Suguru just ended up being gay. Being with either of them may never have been an option, except maybe as one of Satoru’s flings.
And wouldn’t that just suck? To have one night with Satoru only to watch him realize he’s gay and mutually in love with your longtime crush? Better to never sleep with him at all. You can’t miss something you’ve never had. And you wouldn’t want to be a fling anyways.
The thought stings more than it should, because deep down –
(You’d take it. You know you’d take it. That’s why you’re still here, really, under all the excuses. You’re fucking pathetic, pining for both of them. You’d take anything you could get.)
It doesn’t help that they get freer with their affections after your talk with Suguru. Looser. So unrestrained. You walk in on them fucking in the living room, having come back early from class, face burning up as you stand there stock still for a moment.
They don’t stop, or freak out, or cover themselves or anything. You see Suguru’s naked chest above the couch, Satoru’s hands pinned over the armrest of it, their bare legs and feet entwined and sticking over the other side of the couch. They’re both so fucking tall.
So beautiful. Satoru moans so pretty, and you hear Suguru purr, low and filthy, “Like that, you little whore?” and you feel yourself clenching all the way to your core.
You make a wild dash across the living room, staying on the other side of the couch so they can’t see you. Closing the door to your bedroom as quickly and quietly as you can, panting to yourself, feeling the heat rising on your face and the warm pulse between your legs.
(Pathetic, fucking pathetic. It’s like you’re actually some horny teenage boy with a crush on a pretty girl out of his league, rubbing one out every time you see her with her equally hot girlfriend.)
You’ve got to get ahold of yourself.

Your routine has changed, with the both of them being together, so openly. There were little things you’d shared, now gone, lost to the unfathomable whirlpool that was their relationship.
Used to be you’d buy sweets on grocery trips to share with Satoru. It was an old habit of yours, and when he’d first moved in, he’d caught you with them. Reaching for some with a grin before you smacked him away.
The look he gave you, a slow smirk before he went all wide-eyed and pleading, staggering to his knees like a proper starving drama queen – god, he had to know how he’d made your heart flutter. He probably pulled that on so many people.
Still, he would eat the candies right out of your hand, lips just teasing on your fingertips, eyes lingering on you while he licked his lips. It made you feel weird, at first, but you eventually realized that Satoru was just a weird guy.
He’d yawn and stretch and if he caught you or Suguru watching he’d flash his whole chest, like a girl flashing her tits. He slept naked and left the bathroom door open when he was using it, and he’d often knock when on your bathroom when you were in there, even if he had his own.
He had about ten different game consoles and games for them, plus a huge collection of movies, which he likes to watch with the room completely dark. He sleeps with a nightlight on, and his social media picture is an ugly picture of him from high school with these weird round sunglasses.
Not at all what you expected from a pretty boy like him. But Satoru’s eccentric charm, and the unstoppable allure of his perfect face and body, it rewired your brain somehow. You feel like you’ve wanted him for as long as you’ve known him.
You try to find other people. But the problem with living with Satoru and Suguru is that no one is up to your standards. You’ll never meet anyone as handsome or beautiful as either of them, so why bother?
In your defense, Suguru is hard to fall out of love with.
It’s not uncommon to wake up to the sound of your favorite breakfast being cooked while Suguru hums away in the kitchen, his pretty hair all tied back. If you sneak in quietly enough you can catch a tender smile on his face, the smell of freshly ground and brewed coffee he makes for Satoru in some expensive machine.
If you are unlucky, he’ll catch you, and that smile will grow as soon as his eyes are on you and you’ll fall in love all over again. If you’re lucky, you can sneak back away, but Suguru will eventually come and wake you up with a knock so gentle you suspect he already knows you’re up.
He shares his hair care routine, and it leaves your hair shiny and lovely. But your hair isn’t exactly like his, so he must have adjusted it.
He offers to help you brush or style it, himself, and asks you if you wouldn’t mind repaying the favor. Like you wouldn’t kill or die for the honor of running your hands through his silken locks.
Suguru is the type of guy who remembers when you get your period and asks if you need anything for it. You magically find your favorite fruits in the fridge, cut up, dipped in chocolate or caramel or yoghurt, however you like them best.
He does your laundry without being asked because he says it’s easier, and cleans dishes before you can get to them.
Every birthday he throws you a party, bakes a cake and he’ll spend hours to perfect a meal from scratch to go along with it. He’s perfect at finding a thoughtful present – Satoru just gives you cash, or some expensive luxury purchase you find fashionable but would never buy for yourself (Suguru definitely went shopping with him).
You get why Satoru likes him. Satoru’s sort of a slob, always leaving clothes on the floor – walking around shirtless like he knows exactly what it does to anyone watching “Just providing a public service, babe~” – and Suguru is so perfectly domestic.
Almost motherly. Whenever you misplace something, the fastest way to find it is invariably to ask Suguru, if he doesn’t approach you first with a concerned smile after watching you look.
After enough times catching Suguru sternly chide him for not putting away his clothes, leaving wrappers on the table, forgetting to put his shoes away; you’re relatively sure Satoru’s called him mom or mommy at some point. Possibly during sex.
And god, you get it. Those gentle tones of “Is everything all right?”, and “I tweaked the recipe, how do you like it?” and “I’m just really happy you enjoyed it.”, it’s enough to make your heart ache.
How, exactly, are you supposed to fall out of love with Suguru Geto?
How are you supposed to leave, how are you supposed to want to, especially when you swear you hear him call himself Daddy, and you find your face getting hotter than it should be.
Whispering to Satoru how “I’ve got you, baby,” and “Let Daddy take care of you, mhhm?”
And god, the high-pitched whimpers Satoru makes in response. He’s a tall guy, mewling, melting beneath Suguru’s hands, his words, his cock – and you could so easily imagine yourself in his place –
How are you supposed to be platonic about this?
How are you supposed to stop touching yourself when they’re practically putting on personalized porn shows for you?
It's after the third time that you start to think they're doing this on purpose.
Whatever’s between them is something you just couldn’t understand. You get that, you do.
The way they look into each other’s eyes – there’s no way Suguru has ever looked at you like that, no way Satoru would ever want you that badly.
It’s something magnetic that makes them slot together at all times, draws their gazes to one another, leaves no room for anyone else –
But you stumble on them… a lot.
Never mind making out on the couch. You turn into the laundry room to see Satoru backed against the washer machine, his cock so far Suguru’s throat you can see it bulge.
His face is flushed, eyes teary, one hand loosely in Suguru’s hair while he whimpers. Dark eyes gazing up at him, fierce, Adam’s apple bobbing and another noise escaping him.
Or Satoru’s sitting rather innocently in Suguru’s lap, at a certain angle, but the sounds he’s making are less than innocent. Vile, even. Suguru’s broad hand wrapped around Satoru’s cock, pumping up and down, Satoru’s body shifting as you can tell he’s grinding down against something below.
And sometimes it’s really just the noises. You’ve heard them so often now it feels like you can put expressions to every moan and grunt and whimper and whine. Satoru makes a certain sort of gasp and your imagination jumps to think of how deep Suguru must be inside him, how his pretty face must look, twisted in pleasure.
They come back sometimes, from parties, drunk together. Leaning on one another like they could never lean on you – you’re not tall, not built like either of them are. Cheeks flushed as they whisper words into one another’s ears, Satoru giggling, kissing his cheek, Suguru laughing and squeezing his waist as they stumble into their room.
Like they’re in their own little world that you could never intrude on. You just catch glimpses every now and then. They don’t even look at you, it’s like you’re not even there – their eyes are locked on one another.
But that isn’t the worst of it.
Satoru and Suguru start bringing other people in.
No - they start bringing other girls into it. Like it's a punishment for catching them, only, you're fairly certain they wanted to be caught.
Satoru’s never been shy when he had a girl over, about walking around shirtless – maybe it’s an exhibitionism thing. And you’re someone they know well, someone tolerant (pathetic) enough to not say anything.
Either that or they’re both just that good at pretending you aren’t there. But they talk to you, all the time. You eat meals together, have movie nights (if you ignore how Satoru will not-so-discreetly put his hand on the inside of Suguru’s thigh while you’re all sitting together), grocery shop together, smile and laugh and share things about your day.
It’s just that they’re also dating each other. And in love, so in love, it’s painfully obvious that there’s no room for anyone else between them. Which makes the girls they bring over turn your stomach even more.
Sure, they’re one night stands. But they don’t even try to keep it quiet. You hear unfamiliar, high-pitched moans and whimpers, a wet smacking sound that has to be Satoru overdramatically eating pussy.
You wonder what his face looks like. What his eyes look like. Is he staring up at her when she does it? Does she have a hand in the feather-down softness of his hair? Or maybe Suguru’s hand, shoving him forward, that sly smirk that creeps over his lips when you’ve seen his eyes grow dark with want.
Is she whimpering because she’s close? Do they tease her, edging her, enjoying the expressions on her face, the way her body trembles? When she begs, is it for them to stop, or keep going? Whose dick is it inside her? Satoru’s, Suguru’s? What does it feel like? Satoru’s stupid enough to do it without a condom but Suguru isn’t.
What are they doing when she cums? You hear Suguru groan (you know how his groans sound, you know how both of them sound), so he must be cumming too. What’s Satoru doing? He’s too needy to be left alone for long.
Is he watching while he jerks himself? Has Suguru forced him to sit back? Or maybe he’s down where the action is, right where Suguru’s cock is buried inside her, laving over her clit and his cock like the slut he is until they both cum all over his face.
Why can’t that be you? Why don’t they want you?
Your fists clench harder than they should.
One night you stumble onto them in the middle of the living room, all at it in plain view.
Satoru is in Suguru’s lap, tall enough to tower over him. Suguru’s hand wrapped around his throat, choking him, head tilted back in bliss as his lashes flutter. There’s a woman on her knees, between their spread legs, sucking Satoru off.
And you can tell, by the way Satoru shudders, how he’s loose like putty in Suguru’s arms, that Suguru’s dick is buried deep inside him.
Satoru and Suguru don’t even try to pretend it was an accident. Some fucking roommates they are.
Suguru will smile and blush when you ask him about it, apologizing in soothing, kind tones, offering to never bring another girl home again if it bothered you – you’ve been through the goddamn song and dance so many times already.
He has this way of just. Making you feel guilty for even asking in the first place. Like you were presumptuous to say anything at all, unless it was something he wanted to hear.
It’s turned you into this. So eager to please but desperate to keep them at arm’s length. Wanting, longing, and starving for it. Watching because you quite literally can’t do anything else, sights burned into your eyes. Unable to look away. Unable to keep watching.
You don't know what they want from you.
You don’t think you want to, anymore.

Satoru and Suguru are getting impatient.
No, Suguru is getting impatient. Satoru is getting desperate. It was his idea to start going out and finding girls to bring back and fuck.
It wasn’t particularly difficult between the two of them. And promising, at first – after all, what was more likely to get you to snap than watching – hearing – the two of them give some other girl everything you’ve ever wanted on a silver platter?
But you just keep going. Gritting your teeth and bearing with it. Suguru spent a whole week dislodging your vibrator slightly from its charging port, slowly squeezing your lube bottle empty, doing everything he could to drive you to the brink.
Satoru’s starting to remark how much it’s a waste of time. He gets snippy when he’s needy, and lately, Suguru’s cock just isn’t enough for him. He has to go through your laundry, plant a camera in your bedroom on one of those few nights they stay out late enough to give you some private time.
Satoru makes him wear your clothes when Suguru fucks him, lets Suguru gag him with your panties when it’s the other way around.
They play dress-up together and watch you touch yourself at awkward angles with muddied sound quality. It’s not enough, not nearly enough.
Privately, Suguru is a little worried. Satoru’s getting weird – not that he hasn’t always been. But weirder.
He goes right into the bathroom after every time you use it. He’s always quick to reach your drinks for a “taste test” after you’ve had a sip. And Suguru knows for a fact Satoru isn’t using his own toothbrush at night.
He keeps talking about you. Looking at you. Whispering dirty suggestions in his ears, asking impatiently if you look like you’re going to snap.
Satoru is needy like that, demanding, and you’d always balanced him out while helping Suguru relax.
But there’s a distance now that wasn’t there before. The tension builds and builds, needs unmet for so long that desperation is clawing at both of them.
And that’s to say nothing of his own desires. Satoru, for all his faults, still has self-control.
Suguru passes your door every night and stops for a moment. He serves you dinner with a smile, domestic as he is, and thinks how easy it would be to slip something in there. To make sure you’d sleep through the night.
Would it even matter if you didn’t? You let him get away with so much. You love him, you must love him, don’t you? There’s no other reason you would put up with all of this. If he did slip, you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d drink up all his honeyed words with the same smile you always gave him.
But if he gave you such a convenient excuse, then he would always doubt. Whether you really loved him or if he just made it convenient to love him.
More importantly, you’re looking at them different. It was good, at first; your pretty eyes darting in a different direction, the way you try to hide your face, keep your words especially cool.
They want you to TAKE what you want. Want you yelling and screaming and scratching them up like the hellcat they know you are, deep down.
“How long,” He whines between groans as Geto works between his legs, fingering him as he sucks his cock, “Is she gonna make us wait – fuck!”
Suguru pulls away with a pop. Saliva and precum dripping from his lips. Satoru pulls him in for a kiss, by the hair.
“You know she’s liked me a while,” Suguru murmurs, swallowing a moan or two as he works another finger into his hole. “She’s scared of pushing me away. And now that you’re my boyfriend, she probably wouldn’t want to break us up.”
“Fuck, but imagine if she did.” Satoru bucks into him, “She wants us, I know she does.”
He’s always so needy, like a puppy. Suguru likes it, but he can admit that he wants you, too. Misses the energy you’d provide. You’re not demanding like Satoru is. Too prideful. Satoru’s shameless. But you want, oh, do you ever want, and they both do know it.
Once he’s stretched Satoru out enough, he wastes no time shoving him onto his belly, burying himself in his hole from behind – “Fuck! Suguru!”
“On it right now,” He purrs, close to Satoru’s back, reaching lazily for his cock.
Satoru doesn’t like to cum too soon anyways. He likes to cum from getting fucked, to be edged into oblivion – or he likes going hard and fast and overstimulated to no end. Not much in between, unless he was the one in charge.
“Imagine it,” He pants like a dog beneath him. He’s pretty, so pretty, and the only thing Suguru could imagine that would be better is to see your face looking up at him from underneath Satoru, “Suguru!”
He grunts, thrusting his hips harder, “Imagining. What am I imagining?” God, Satoru’s a slut and a nuisance, but it’s always been worth it to indulge him.
“Her,” Satoru breathes after a particularly hard thrust, “Trying to break us up.”
Suguru grabs his hips for better leverage. Satoru dirty talks best when he’s getting fucked hard, after all.
“Fuck, imagine if she got me drunk or something, hngh, finally followed through on those fuck-me eyes she’s always giving me, ghhgh, fuck yes like that, and. Just fucked me in our room, waiting for you to walk in on us together.”
And he can see it, picture it so well.
A drunk night with the most beautiful man alive, because that’s what Satoru is; pretty even now, beneath him, all sweat and lean body trembling as he gets utterly railed.
You’ve always had the attraction, and Satoru couldn’t handle his liquor, and all the sudden, you’d slept together.
“Would you – ah, ahHhh, would you get mad, Suguru?” His voice is teasing now, even through the groans and utterances, “Would you cry~?”
“Ha!” He half-chokes out the laugh, because Satoru clenches around him and it’s hard not to cum right away. He’s going to leave bruises from how hard he’s holding those narrow, lovely hips.
“No," Suguru grinds out, "But I’m sure you both would. She’s the type, and you’re so fucking – gah, so fucking needy. What would you want me to do? Forgive you?”
His pace slows down, and he reaches to squeeze his cock in return, just for a taste.
“Nah – fuck! Yes, keep doing that, fuck.” Satoru bucks into his touch, always, always chasing after him, “She’s too fucking nice all the time. If she did it, it would be – hnng – like. A revenge thing. She should be fucking mad already, pissed off. She should make me cum inside her, say she’s pregnant. Make me dump you and marry her, so if she can’t have you, nobody can.”
Suguru barks out a laugh at the concept, and then a moan, choked off as he feels the heat shooting through him at the idea.
You’re too nice, like Satoru says, it’s a laughable concept, you acting like this –
But what had he seen in your eyes that day after you caught them both with that girl?
“Fuck, I swear I feel you twitching inside me – ”
“What would you do, then?” Suguru purrs hotly into his ear, “You want to win her heart while you’re married?”
“Well, we’d fuck all the time,” Satoru wheezes out a giggle, trembling as Suguru’s hand slides along his cock, “Fuck you – haaaahhh. But I’d be making nice with her, being a good husband, and then you could come and have an affair – ”
Fuck, fuck, that’s too much, “Close,” He grunts, driving himself deep and hard, chasing the edge, “Fuck, I could tell her I love her, blackmail her, even – threaten to tell you.”
A groan as Satoru gets closer, and Suguru continues, “I could fuck her, leave her coming home to you full of my cum – ”
“I’d eat it out of her,” Satoru laughs, near deranged as he jerks between fucking back into Suguru and rutting into his hand, “Jerk me off already – ah, fuck, what if you got her pregnant – ”
White-hot, like the idea of your face beneath him, both of them, accepting them with an open heart full of rage and bitterness and lust, Suguru cums.
He’s just aware enough to fist Satoru’s cock, sliding harshly along it until he hears the lovely whore beneath him gasping, twitching, spilling in his hand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Satoru whimpers. “Hnghh… god, just the idea of her coming home from the hospital with a black-haired baby.”
“Fuck you,” Suguru barks, because now he wants to cum inside you. He wants, so, so fucking bad to cum inside you.
But god, do you even want them?
You sit there, all day, looking away, running away. That’s not love, is it?
And he’s a romantic, at heart. Satoru is, too. They don’t want anything less than your whole heart. Your entire life, your mind, body, and soul, dedicated to them the way they are to each other. Mad with jealousy and rage and possession.
Satoru had left him with bruises, the day he found out Suguru was crushing on you. When Suguru told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’s been wanted you for over a decade now and he wasn’t leaving before he got you. Blue fury in his eyes, heart twisting in his chest.
He’d looked him in the eye, grin wild and wide. Staring down as he has him pinned. Suguru had raised his knee up between his legs to find his cock desperately hard and throbbing.
“I want to fuck her first,” had been his wicked demand. Pain and pleasure traded like currency in return for love, each of them furious at the other for wanting you. They reaped the cost of their love on each other, settled their scores deep in their souls.
Because even if Suguru had seen you first, could he really say he’d wanted you first? Did he really want to fuck you before Satoru moved in, before he saw you flustered from your attraction and playfully trading banter with Satoru?
Had he wanted Satoru because you wanted Satoru? Had Satoru wanted him because he could see that you did?
Lines cross and uncross between you and the two of them, too tangled to ever unravel.
Time to tighten the knot.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#lemon#satoru gojo#satoru gojo smut#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#yandere satoru gojo#yandere x reader#yandere x you#suguru geto#suguru geto smut#suguru x reader#geto x reader#yandere suguru geto#poly yandere#satoru x reader x suguru#gojo x reader x geto#satosugu#satosugu x reader#satoru x suguru#gojo x geto#tw: toxic relationships#tw: manipulation#BYHTD
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Uhhhhh. Uh. Do you ever think about the fact that Welsknight is the only member of the Evil Empire that joined simply because Xisuma convinced him to, and that he’s the only one there who is never directly manipulated, controlled, or corrupted by Evil X (Android 24)? Completely unrelated thought but I wonder what it’s like to be surrounded by the people you trust most slowing becoming brainwashed, the only ‘sober’ one as you watch their familiar faces slowly become unrecognizable
Alternatively: I got possessed by my corner of the magmaboard and the incomprehensible horrors Freakin Got Me
#art escapades#dbhc#dbhc art#dbhc wels#welsknight#hermitcraft s8#evil empire#dbhc s8#dbhc xisuma#dbhc beef#dbhc jevin#dbhc android 24#I’ll tag him since he’s. implied I guess#hermitcraft au#tw uncanny#tw unsettling#tw horror#tw scopophobia#tw manipulation#lemme know if I should add any other tags!#RAAAAA IDK WHAT CAME OVER ME#I can’t stop thinking about WELSKNIGHT!!!!!!!!#I was already freaking sick and ill about him#but I started talking to Myke about the tma fears/entities (i don’t go here but the fears are super fun to theorize about re:characters#and it occurred to me that wels would absolutely be The Stranger coded (for many reasons but this being the primary one)#and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since#see: me getting possessed during magma activities
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#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie#agent stone#eye strain#Watch as I draw during a zoom class#He is manipulating atoms or something to get Robotnik back#?#Okay bye#sonic movie 3#tw eyestrain#villian stone#He is using his 301 iq to fix his situationship#sth
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#knife k1nk#tw knife#knife k!nk#knifeplay#needy princess#bimbo fuck doll#bimbo babe#cnc forced#cnc rough#fsk18#daddy's good girl#big juicy ass#bixesual#cute doll#curvy and cute#attention slvt#attention wh0r3#knife kink#stockhom syndrome#bimbo doll#degrading k1nk#manipulation kink#dark k!nk#bimbo training#bimbo girl#wet and needy#kiddnapping#cnc stalking#fantasy kink
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Part 1 || Next
You guys have been asking what would happen if Donnie sees Kendra again! (And also for some violence towards Kendra lol). This is gonna be short-maybe two or three parts! I am not starting another whole comic lmao! I really don’t think the boys would actually kill Kendra, but maiming is still on the table!
This takes place about two months after Donnie’s rescue. He’s beginning to believe his family when they say they love him, but he’s still looking for tricks in their words and around every corner. He’s been shown plenty of proof, so his brain is telling him one thing, but his heart is telling him another.
#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie#rise leo#rise kendra#kendratello au#tw brainwashing#tw manipulation#my art
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yandere cowboy x boss's daughter who is an innocent country girl and barely knows that the person she trusts most is the one she should fear most
Well, I have a few ideas coming to mind about this scenario but I'll pick one for now.
Tw: Yandere, violence, blood, breeding, dirty talk , naive reader.
Masterlist

Yandere cowboy who works for your father for a while now. He's one of his most trusted workers and your father isn't the type to trust many people.
He always does jobs here and there on the ranch helping to put up wire fences so cattle don't escape, looking for cattle when they enter other lands, threatening neighboring ranchers when they don't want to return cows or sheep.
In his defense, they deserve a bullet in the head for trying that shit with him.
But the job he likes the most is taking care of you, the beautiful and naive daughter of his boss. He simply fell in love with you since he saw you for the first time a few years ago.
You were all pretty behind your father in that flowery dress, cowboy boots, your braided hair... and how can we forget your cute tits.
Tits he thought about that same night as he masturbated, his calloused hand wrapped around his hard member as he rubbed vigorously imagining you looking up at him with your big eyes as you ride him your tits bouncing on his face it's so good he ends up cumming all over his hand.
You are indeed a pretty little thing all smiles and ignorant of the world and people's intentions. Raised and protected by your father kept under his wing for far too long after all you are his only daughter.
It's inevitable that he ends up threatening and beating to death your countless suitors who shamelessly approach you believing they have a chance, no fucking way will it happen. not on his watch.
He simply corners them away from your sight and beats them mercilessly, he gives them a hard punch his knuckles impact their nose with a loud crunch he doesn't stop as the man falls to the floor with a broken nose.
Of course not.
He beats them until his fists are bruised and the man's face is covered in blood with a broken nose, teeth knocked out and eyes swollen he grabs them by the collar of their shirts as he growls.
“Stay away from her or i assure you this will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you, buddy”
The one who tries to make himself as presentable as possible so you won't get suspicious when he comes back to you.
He knows everything he does is worth it when you show all worried for him grabbing his calloused hands in yours, looking at his bruised knuckles asking him if he's okay with that worried tone that makes his cock hard inside his pants.
He ends up asking you to “comfort” him a little like he taught you. You both end up in the barn with him leaning you on hay bales, his hands undoing his belt and zipper before pulling down his pants along with his boxers that get caught on his knees.
Then he lifts your dress as you whine about the hay stinging your ass, he just pats your thigh to shut you up as his fingers pull down your panties, he hisses when he sees your pussy he moves his thick fingers closer inspecting your wet entrance.
“God you're so wet, for someone who acts so sweet you're a bit of a slut aren't you doll?”
He arches an eyebrow when you shake your head shyly at his words murmuring an embarrassed "I'm not..." he lets out a laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest his thick fingers don't stop moving thrusting into your hot pussy your walls squeeze his fingers like hell.
He grabs his member unable to resist any longer he uses your wetness to lubricate his cock and slide inside you, both of you let out a moan of pleasure you from the delicious stretch and him from feeling your walls throb around him he murmurs.
“What a tight fucking pussy you have so hungry for my fat cock baby doll.”
He moves his hips hard his heavy balls slap against your ass and his pubic hair scrapes deliciously against your pussy, your juices forming a creamy circle at the base of his cock as your nails dig into his muscled belly for support, his moans combined and the loud wet sound of his cock pounding into your pussy fills the barn.
“You're about to cum aren't you baby doll? Fuck–of course you're about to cum your pussy is getting so tight right now I think you want to rip my cock off.”
His hands tighten their grip on your waist and you just mumble stupidly wrapping your legs tightly around his waist your boots dig into his ass as you cum letting out a high pitched moan your eyes roll back in your head from the intense pleasure, he growls thrusting into you hard chasing his own orgasm that doesn't take long to come.
With one last thrust he thrusts deep inside you, stopping his movements and letting his semen explode, flooding your interior with its swimmers. Who knows, maybe today will be the day when his seed finally takes root inside you. He would be the best father, the best husband and the best successor for your father. Your father will also see it that way. Because it would be a shame to have to kill him, after all, they are almost family, right..?
#dark fic#dark!fic#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male#reader insert#female reader#tw dubcon#tw noncon#tw breeding kink#tw forced pregnancy#tw manipulation#yandere x darling#yandere x you#fem!reader#cowboy smut#yandere cowboy#smut#yandere smut#yandere oc#yandere male x you#male yandere#dark smut#smut imagine#boyfriend smut#yandere ocs#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere dave bennett#dave bennett oc
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CW: LDR price x reader, implied manipulation, implied kidnapping(?) - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
From what you’ve gleaned of him in your online relationship, you’re well aware that John Price is a very busy man in a high position that travels for work- so when he has a much-needed break coming up, he makes a compelling argument towards closing that distance between the two of you and invites you to come along on a trip to the serene little all-inclusive getaway he’s rented for the week- already paid for, of course.
It’s an offer you can’t turn down. You’re in dire need of a vacation as well, and John is a lovely man who spends any chance he gets shooting you sweet messages, clumsily taken selfies, or on the rare occasion he can manage to slip away from his work, a call here and there. The pictures of the place and the surrounding nature look beautiful, and the flight booked is first class; It’s perfect.
This is why you take it on the nose when he hisses out a low breath in the middle of the baggage claim, eyebrows knit together while staring at the cracked phone in his hand as he informs you that apparently, the place has been double-booked. You assure him it’s fine, you’ve been able to save up enough for emergencies like this with all the little gifts he’s been depositing into your account supplementing your already-frugal lifestyle. You can book a hotel or inn.
Of course, he refuses- you’re already well aware he’s not too keen on letting you pay. Tells you he has an empty place he bought a while back pretty much rotting away an hour out; it’s a fixer-upper and fairly far from the closest town, but you’d have to drive the same amount of time to get to the rental anyway, and he’s more than happy to do a little impromptu handiwork if needed. It seems like a no-brainer, really.
What Price doesn’t tell you is that there never was a booking under his name for the quiet getaway he had shown you- nor does he inform you that your stay is gonna last a lot longer than the week you had planned for.
#‘John is a lovely man’ - he most certainly is not btw#john price x reader#price x reader#price#x reader#tw manipulation#tw kidnapping#cloth writes
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Miraculous Coccinella
Origins pt. 2, pt. 20
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Origins pt. 2 (Episode 2), pt. 20
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Episode 2 Index
Master Post
#well hey at least Ivan and Mylene got together right?#tw manipulation#miraculous coccinella#miraculous ladybug#mlb#miraculous coccinella comic#miraculous ladybug au#miraculous ladybug comic#fan comic#ivan bruel#fanart#marinette dupain cheng#Lila rossi#coccinella#noire#my art#miraculous ladybug fanart#mylene haprele
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#artists on tumblr#girl blog aesthetic#girlblogging#photooftheday#femme fetale aesthetic#femme fatale#dark femenine#dark core gothique#knifeplay#knife k!nk#knife kink#tw knife#high femme#divine female#femalestunning#female manipulator#femaledaily#female rage#female hysteria#mature woman#pretty woman#girl blogger#girl interrupted#manic pixie dream girl#female beauty#nude at work#nudité#animated gif#gif#woman
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I love Charlie getting immediately defensive for Angel! Gah!! Everyone's relationship these two new eps, except for maybe Niffty (fuck she's fucked), is so freaking goood
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