theartofsimpatry

[theartofsimpatry]

You've been the (un)willing host of a time-traveling knight who somehow ended up in your modern times. Since the fateful encounter he's become rather possessive of your company, yet today seems to be especially bad.

You eye the straw doll with increasing suspicion. As you make your way to the bedroom, you notice the discarded, crumpled scrolls littering the floor. You can't decipher the old writing.

"What's the meaning of this," you demand, stomping towards the massive, armored man.

"I have drafted a will," he confesses theatrically. "My time here is scarce."

"You don't even own anything here. Have you found a way to return?" your voice has a tint of hope to it; could it be that you'll soon have your peace back?

Oh, sweet, innocent (Y/N)! His door only leads to the cruel afterlife. He's been feverish all night, and his throat tightens with each whisper. He's all too familiar with the signs: a deadly disease. Worry not, he'll be departing with a clean conscience. He glances at the clumsily improvised doll - a curse he's learned from an old hag many years ago - and smiles faintly. No other man or woman will ever dare to yearn for you.

He jolts at the unexpected touch of your hand, resting against his hot forehead.

"Ah, you probably have a cold. I'll get you some decongestant from the pharmacy."

Huh?

"Wait, did you...did you think you're dying?"

[theartofsimpatry]

Could you maybe do more graves p links 🥺

farmer graves 🪦 (🌽 link)

because of the location of his farm, relatively close to a town that college students go to party and get pissed drunk during the holidays, graves has had unwanted visitors. and they tend to be quite light-fingered.

at first, it was things he didn't notice, maybe some fruit, a bale of hay, or the ashtray the farmhands had outside the bunkhouse. but you decided to go big and steal from the secret stash of booze he had in one of the barn. but you have such bad luck, because he saw you. like a deer in headlights as your eyes meet his angry ones before you make a run for it, the man close behind you.

for some reason, you thought stealing from graves' farm would have no consequences. good luck with that one because the man himself will make sure that you never think of doing it again. once he catches you, he peels your skimpy clothes off your body with his expert hands and bending you over.

right there, on the pasture. dry grass rough against your knees as he spits on his palm, running it over his cock as he bring it to your cunt. and much to his surprise, you are dripping wet. 'you wanted this, didn't you, whore?' your sweet cunt swallowing him whole, his balls slaping against your clit with each thust. the stimulation enough to bring you over the edge with a loud prolonged moan. walls squeezing him hard, making him follow suit.

he though he was going to catch a thief and ended up catching a wife

[theartofsimpatry]

Phillip Graves' comfort sex (GNver!)

Cw: depression, comfort sex, use of the word “daddy”, its just wholesome. Crying (from emotions) during sex. PRAISE. The fluffiest smut ever written. 

I felt bad that the last version I did wasn't actually gender-neutral despite tagging it as such, so i rewrote it here! I hope this is more enjoyable for everyone!

Phillip knew you were having a really shitty week, with the way your eyes were downcast and the smile you forced when you tried to reasure him that everything was fine. He wasn’t that stupid. He knew that faraway look of yours, where you stare off into a spot and your mind has travelled to some distant place, away from all the stress and grief. 

He always does his best to help you as much as he can. Gives you space, cuddles, love, all the affection you could desire. He’d whisper into your ear all the reassurances in the world that you were loved and valued. Sometimes it would work, just him being there, caring. But sometimes, the glint in your eye wouldn't fully spark. So, he knew he had to show other ways he cared in a more physical, real manner.

He had you on your back, mewling with his cock nice and snug in that tight hole he loved while he leaned over you. His hips thrusted in a deep rhythm, letting you feel each ridge and vein along his shaft as it entered you again and again. He panted over you, his heated breath fanning over your lips as he had his toned chest pressed against yours, as physically close as he could be to you.

Each forward tilt of his hips drove a deep whimper from your mouth, a moan spilling out as the head of his cock grazed up against your clutching insides.

“That’s it, baby, you're doing so good.” He panted, groaning out as he focused on fucking his swelling cock deep into you. “My good baby... Fuck, so good.”

He lifted one of his legs up and firmly placed it on the mattress, giving him the leverage to piston his cock faster against you, the mushroom tip of his cock hitting against your sensitive spot with pinpoint accuracy, causing you to jolt and close your eyes, tiling your head to the side with a loud audible cry.

Graves gently, but with an urgency, cradled your face with his hand and brought it back to look at him, pressing his lips firmly against your own in a desperate, seething kiss.

“No no, look at me,” He said between kisses. “Don’t take your eyes of me, okay sweetie?”

You continued to moan and whimper as he fucked into you, his hips ruthless but his hands and lips so tender and full of yearning. “I…I can’t…” You tried to capture words between whimpers but couldn’t find them between the love and the searing pleasure. Tears welled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, which Graves caught with the pad of his thumb as he rubbed them away.

“I know, baby, I know.” His voice was almost cracking as he spoke, the emotions and approaching orgasm stumbling his speech. “I got you, okay? Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.”

The tender sweetness of his words spurred on your desperately aching heat, and the tightness in your stomach coiled tightly. He felt the walls tighten around him, and he knew it was coming. In the same way, he knew his own orgasm was brewing. He quickened his pace subconsciously, moaning loudly into your mouth as he held your lips in his. He wanted to whisper more and tell you that he loved you, tell you that everything was going to be okay. But the words were lost when he opened his mouth and a gutteral groan escaped as he reached his peak, his cum erupting in strips inside you. But his pace only continued as he eagerly tried to get you to that peak.

“Let go baby…Fuck.” He said shakily, the sensitivity of his orgasm faltering his words.

“Fuck…Graves!” You cried out holding him as close as you could get to him before the chord snapped and your orgasm rushed over you, your entrance clenching and uncleching around his softening cock in rythm with your heartbeat.

Everything paused for a moment, and you both did not move an inch, only allowing yourselves to pant with your foreheads pressed together. No words were spoken past then as you two held each other, and as the two slept the rest of the night until morning, you felt calm. Any stress or depression in your body had left to make room for the tender love you two had for each other.

[theartofsimpatry]

Being Phillip Graves' Wife

ꕥ slight nsfw

I can definitely see Phillip Graves marrying a civilian. Why? Even if he refuses to admit it, his time serving his country has traumatized him and he subconsciously seeks out things that have nothing to do with the military. So, during the few times out of the year where he isn't deployed somewhere or stuck on base, he and a few shadows decide to wind down at a local dive bar or somewhere where he can be a man and not property of the government.

Phillip Graves for sure lays his southern charm thick but he isn't a jerk, he'll tone it back if the girl he's trying to talk to seems uncomfortable or just not into him... but that doesn't mean that he doesn't like to play with his food before eating it. He for sure flaunts his money and position as Commander of the Shadow Company, and if you don't know the Shadow Company? That's an extra 30 minutes of him talking.

Once he successfully picks up a pretty lady, his charm doesn't end there at the bar, or even after he takes you back to his house and fucks the daylights out of you. Not even in the slightest. When Phillip Graves inevitably catches feelings, he's texting you every morning, during his lunch and literally whenever he can spare at least thirty seconds, even if it's a quick text but you WILL know that he is thinking of you.

I don't see Phillip Graves taking years to propose and plan the wedding. Growing up Southern he has some traditional views and opinions, so he most likely told his parents about you by the second date and had the name of your three children planned out in his head before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. And the ring? His grandmother's.

Everything about Phillip Graves screams "Lavish proposal!!" so definitely expect and prepare for a proposal straight out a Hallmark movie; a fancy restaurant, a long speech, hidden cameras. Free dessert. The works. Never mind wanting a private proposal, everyone in the state of Texas is going to know about the engagement.

Phillip Graves absolutely does not wait until marriage. If you didn't want to have sex with him during the first date that's fine, because you'll for sure be pregnant the day of the wedding. It's not even about lust for Graves, it's about wanting to be as close to you as possible and committing every mole, vein, hair on your body to memory. He wants to know you better than he knows himself.

I see Phillip Graves being honest about his line of work. He feels like it's entrapment if you two get married and he doesn't tell you that he is the Commander of a private military company. But I think it could also be 50/50 for him. He could lay out all of his cards on the table and tell you exactly what he does OR, he only tells you the bare minimum because he doesn't want to scare you or make you worry for him.

Church wedding! Church wedding! Church wedding! Phillip Graves would get married in a church and I CANNOT be convinced otherwise. His side is 99% shadows and military personnel and the 1% are his parents and immediate family and he could not honestly care less about whose on your side aside from your parents/guardians. He definitely tears up a bit when he's reciting his vows (he made his own) and he WILL threaten the shadows or anyone that brings it up afterwards but he can't help it!! His pretty baby looks SO good in white and his pants are so tight that it hurts! :(

The reception is straight out your Pinterest board. You don't know how, but Phillip Graves brought your vision to life and somehow made it better with things you didn't even think to add. Once he has a few beers in his system, the cowboy hat makes its debut and next thing you know, your husband has his shirt half buttoned and where did he get that bolo tie from??? You didn't even know that Graves could even move like that once you see him and the shadows hit the dance floor.

But the honeymoon? Makes the wedding look like a shitty elementary school play. Prior to meeting you, Phillip Graves never really took time off so he has A LOT of p.t.o racked up and by this point, Graves has converted you into a housewife, so the honeymoon ends up being at least 3 weeks long. 21+ days of cumming inside of you every morning, afternoon, and night. There's no way that you'd come back from the honeymoon not pregnant.

When married to Phillip Graves, a life of luxury is the only thing you would know. He isn't a billionaire by any means by his contractors pay extremely well and this is Graves we're talking about, he isn't above extortion. But what does that mean for you? Weekly dates, designer dresses, heels, and bags ONLY and once you confirmed that you're pregnant, Graves would move you guys into a much bigger home. And the only thing you have to do in return is make sure he's well fed and well fucked. Everything else is for him to worry about.

The shadows LOVE you and Phillip Graves tries to bring you to base as often as he can but he would respect your boundaries if being on base isn't something you enjoy or if you would rather stay at home, but at least once a month the shadows see you. A lot of them never thought Graves would settle down so they marvel at you at any opportunity and all of them treat you like the most fragile piece of porcelain.

You have a closet full of clothes carefully picked out by your husband, fabrics that he knows would look angelic on you and colors that make you look like a Renaissance painting. Phillip Graves may be arrogant but he is respectful when it comes to you, he would never intentionally mess up your style or make you wear stuff that you feel uncomfortable in but you are his muse and he knows how to make you look like a walking dream.

Lingerie on the other hand, you have no input in. The sheer lacy fabrics that leave nothing to the imagine are picked with the intention of ending up scattered in the corner or torn to shreds. Phillip Graves knows what he likes and he doesn't feel shame for it. He loves laces, bows, rosettes, any little added detail makes his mouth water and his cock strain. Just.. try not to get attached to a particular set because nine times out of ten, the panties are torn into several pieces and the bra is reduced to unsalvageable scraps.

This is my first post so please let me know what you guys think!! I can make a part 2 or the same thing with a different character or something entirely different!

[theartofsimpatry]

I think what I love most about mythology is that the “Trickster God/Spirit” is an archetypical character found in almost every body of folklore. It’s like “Oh, here’s our God of the Sun, our God of the Sea, our God of Fertility, and our God of Being A Wretched Little Gremlin Who Causes Problems On Purpose”

[theartofsimpatry]

Ngl i prefer the 2016 version purple on the right.

[theartofsimpatry]

I really like your Yandere team 141. Would it be too much to ask for headcannons of what type of Yandere Simon, Price, Soap and Alejandro would be? (separate) And how they would react to the reader reciprocating their feelings?

That’s not too much at all! I hope this is what you’re looking for.

The Stalker:

•Ghost likes to lay low when it comes to these types of things.

•You definitely wouldn’t see it coming, especially if you don’t pick up signals easily.

•Ghost is the type of Yandere to rummage through your belongings while you’re out and about. He wants to get to know you without directly asking.

•If you were to subtly flirt with him or show any kind of interest in him your chances of getting kidnapped have drastically decreased.

•If ghost was drunk enough he would confess. That being said, I think he has a high tolerance for alcohol. It’ll take him a while to actually get drunk enough to tell you.

•On the event that he does somehow confess his feelings, don’t expect it to be a big thing. He might just look at you and say something along the lines of “Let me take you out to dinner.”

•If you agree to be his without any pushback then great! You now have an overprotective guard dog that will scare off any man that tries to approach you. •Ghost dosn’t like to share, he’ll keep tabs on you with the help of soap or implanting trackers on your phone. He tells himself it’s for your safety but in reality he wants to know where you are at all times.

The clingy/touchy one:

•Soap likes to have his hands on you at all times.

•It dosn’t necessarily have to be sexual. Sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around you or place his hand on the small of your back. •He’s the type to get annoyed if you don’t pay him any attention. He’ll hide your phone from you so you have to come to him for help. •If you reject his advances towards you he’ll disappear for a while and make you drop your guard. When you’re finally settled his appear in the middle of the night and forcefully take you away. •But that scenario is for another time.

•Johnny is the type to buy you flowers, a stuffed animal (that has a camera in it) and chocolates before he asks you out. He’s visibly nervous when he hands you the ‘offerings’ and confesses his feelings to you. •If you accept his shoulder visibly loosen. A stupid grin will cross his face and for the rest of that night he’ll subtly touch you. Maybe he brushes past you and places his hands on your hips to get by. Or he’ll place a hand on your shoulder or thigh.

•Soap is a little more lenient than ghost when it comes to you going out without him. He won’t involve Ghost unless you’ve run away. He’ll probably install a tracker on your phone and send you on your way.

The gift giver:

•This one isn’t as sweet as it sounds

•Price likes to woo you with little gifts and trinkets. He’s the type to implant trackers and cameras into gifts like stuff animals or jewelry. He’ll even get you a phone that he secretly has access to.

•Price can be a bit manipulative at times. Especially if you have daddy issues. •Before he confessed to you Price was the first person to tell you that your new boy toy isn’t good for you. Price will dig up dirt on your recent date and completely trash your perception on them. Afterwards he’ll give you a gift to ‘make you feel better.’

•It you reciprocate his feelings Price is a bit taken by surprise. He had all of the necessities to kidnap you in his car. He was ready to take you by force, and he was expecting to. •With price, he’s the type to give you items that symbolize that you’re taken. For example a necklace that has a locket with his initials on it. Or a ring.

•Price wants you taken care of. Literally and figuratively. Do you want to go shopping? No worries he’ll give you his card. Are you sad that your friends ditched you? No worries, the next day their faces are in the news as ‘missing’. Are you hungry and don’t have the energy to cook? Lay down, he’ll run you a bath and order take out.

•It’s an absolute dream to be with price willingly and be naive to what he’s doing around you. But if you find out about his doings and don’t respond in the way he likes he’ll just have to resort back to plan A.

The manipulator:

• Alejandro can be sneaky sometimes

•He’s usually somewhat similar to price. Whatever you want he’ll buy for you.

•But on the off chance one of your friends notices the way he’s unhealthily protective of you or making you miss out on friendly gatherings this man will gaslight you

• If you go up to him complaining about his over protectiveness he’ll just blow you off

•”You know I’m doing this for you right?”

•After an argument that may or may not leave you in tears he’ll always say ‘I love you’. Not as a gesture to show how much he really love you. But as a manipulation tactic.

•If your gullible or naive you might have a tough time getting away from him

•Especially since he has his men stalk look after you when he can’t be there.

•If you reciprocate his feelings it’ll still be a toxic relationship

•He has more control over you now. He’ll slowly make you disconnect with family and friends so your life only revolves around your relationship with him

•If you notice early on you might be able to get out of it with the help of someone from the 141 team. But that’ll just land you in their arms instead

[theartofsimpatry]

Kidnapper Price?

He has a system.

Wake you up an hour after his alarm - he is careful to slip out of bed without waking you, but he is also strict whenever you're trying to beg for another five minutes. He would bring you breakfast, waking you up with the prospect of eating on your own - you were a good girl the past month, ever since he threatened to cut your shins if you ever tried to live again - so you could eat without his hand wiping on your face and holding the spoon.

You munch on a French toast - it got better with every attempt. This man had to learn softness in order to stop scaring you. Had to watch those dumb reels and try to whip out a palatable dessert for you, hoping it would make you at least a tiny bit more interested in having him. He kisses you on the forehead and his beard scratches your skin - it's better this way, you think. Makes you remember you can still feel something other than the endless softness of the pillows. Makes you bury your face in the sheet and only let go when his nudges on your shoulder become stricter.

He is a captain, and it took a while for Price to remember that civilians aren't good at following orders. You would give him half-assed hugs and soft mumbles instead of clear and nice "love you, please come back safe" as he wanted, and he had to stop himself from lashing out. You don't deserve this, and he has to be patient, even if he thinks you would benefit from a strong hand. John reminds himself - that he is training a new soldier and he is trying to get himself a wife.

He has a strict timing for everything, his therapist would probably talk his ear off about being a control freak. Not his fault he has way too many enemies. It's not his fault that he needs a pretty girl next to him, his to mold and control. He would kiss your cheek before giving you a moment to yourself, and he would drag your body for a daily weather forecast. Never the news - you're fragile, he thinks, too fragile to even watch a show about some poor senior getting robbed. You would curl on the couch with a bowl of popcorn - he is microwaving it himself, sneering at your desire for snacks when he could order something actually filling. You'd let him absently pet your head as he speaks to his boys about something - missions, retirement, coming back to work. You don't want him to go on missions because it would mean spending your days in the bed again, with some of his friends to watch over you - and you don't like his friends.

Price would call you a little siren as you'd crawl on his lap and push your face under his stubby chin, kissing-biting the side of his neck. Sloppy kisses and puppy licks up his face, down his collarbone. Until he is finally had enough with being a chewing toy, and agrees to stay for another week. Starts talking about taking his leave and finally cashing on the pension. Maybe opening a car shop.

You drop your pussy all over his lap, forcing yourself to rub over his crotch and make him forget about the phone call. He knows what you're doing - and he knows it's still much better this way. He can fuck you stupid for trying to defy him later - he will indulge you for now, putting a firm hand on your ass and giving you a squeeze. You've done good as his captive wife, he is just trying to see whether you'll be as good as a regular one.

[theartofsimpatry]

⚠️: coercion, dark!price, vulnerable!reader, age gap, fem!reader,

Sick and twisted, but thinking about growing up dirt poor, living in a camper with your mom until she abandoned you at 18.

She was a workaholic, went to the city to work which was about a 2 hour drive away from the small town you reside in. Your mom claimed she couldn’t afford the price of rent in the city and raising a teen, which you understood.

But when she abandoned you, it was clear that wasn’t the case. You were just a burden to her.

But what can you do?

Life goes on.

And right now, you were facing a bigger problem. In this tiny town, you were having trouble finding a job. Your mom had blind sided you and rent was due in a few days. You only had $100 to your name.

You landlords were keen on getting you kicked from their land because they found tenants that will pay more. So you packed your life away in a carry on suit-case, and got out of there.

You sat in a McDonald’s for the free wifi while searching for resources that could help you. But nothing was provided by the town, it all was located in the city. Just when you started to feel hopeless, John Price entered the picture.

He noticed the suitcase and that combined with the glum look on your pretty face, made him get off his ass to come talk to you.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself in a shit situation here.”

Your head snaps from your phone, meeting the eyes of this middle aged man. “Yeah, I do I suppose.”

“Mind if I take a seat?”

You do mind but you were meek. So you nodded.

He takes a seat, “you new to town? Not many people come down here to visit, unless you’re lost.”

“No, I grew up here. I’m just trying to figure out my living situation.” You laugh awkwardly and all Price can think about is how you made it too fucking easy.

“Sorry to hear that, bun. If you need a place to crash, I have an old rv I want to get rid of. You could have it for $1000.”

“I don’t have that much money. It’s hard, nobody’s hiring around here.”

“I live on a farm. I could always use a hand. Work for me for a couple of days, and the rv is yours.”

“Really?”

He nods.

You go back to his farm too easily, Price could only wonder if your parents ever taught you about stranger danger.

He pulls into the long driveway and you see the older rv parked in the grass. He lets you check it out and the inside was well kept. There was nothing wrong with it mechanically either so, you could take this rv to the city where you’d have a greater chance of becoming something.

You were so excited and grateful for this opportunity, it almost made Price feel bad about doing this. You were so naive to his true intentions. His intentions on keeping you on this farm, fucking a few kids into you, putting a band around your ring finger, maybe letting his buddy get a taste of you too.

He’d do shit in the most twisted ways too. Like cutting some crucial wires in your rv so now it won’t start. When he “takes a look,” he says the wildlife around must’ve chewed through it. You ask how much it would cost to repair and he gives a number you can’t even fathom.

But he knows someone who could do it. And he’ll pay for it, as long as he gets something in return. When you ask what he wants, his hand cups your chin.

“I want you to put this pretty little mouth to work.”

And you do.

He keeps fucking shit up in your rv while you’re busy combing the horses hair or feeding the chickens. When you come back, your generator isn’t working and it’s freezing.

“How much will it cost to fix the generator?” You ask softly, looking over his shoulders while he “attempted” to fix it.

He stands, “we can talk about it inside.” The “talk” ends up with you warming his bed, his hands on your waist guiding you to ride him faster.

Things kept breaking in your rv and you kept getting quieter because of it. John could see the hope that once lit up your eyes was withering away. So he decided to call his mechanic just to get a little spark from you.

Too bad for you, when mechanic!Simon lays his eyes on you, he gives Price a knowing look.

You weren’t going any fucking where.

Another unedited blurb. If you want more, let me know :)))

[theartofsimpatry]

mmmfgggh can’t stop thinking about yandere!price babying the fuck out of you | mdni

cw: drugging, hand feeding, stalking if you squint, daddy kink, coddling, infantilzation (kinda) oral f!receiving, lotsa pet names, somno, cnc, spit mention, john is creepy and sickeningly sweet, creampie, cockwarming, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, not proofread, 18+

he’s just so doting, an almost smothering cloud of sweetness. he loves taking care of you. you’re his baby and he never fails to remind you at every chance he gets.

before he swallows you whole and keeps you on his hip at all times, he lets you go out on your own (ofc he has your location). you come home to him, particularly tired from running errands.

you drag your legs to the kitchen, your nose doing most of the work to bring you when you smell your favorite meal simmering on the stove. and there he is, your big bear of a man stirring the pot, like he doesn’t know you’re right behind him.

he turns to you, all crinkly eyed and smiling, “welcome home, angel,” he walks to you, arms wide as he takes your belongings from your hands and puts them on the bar chair. he swaddles you in his big arms.

“mm. hi,”

he takes a good look at your pretty face, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks and turn your head back and forth, inspecting. “what’s wrong with my baby, hm?”

he tilts down and leaves the softest and gentlest of kisses ln your squished, pouted lips. you almost don’t feel it. you whine, wanting more.

“‘m so tired. don’ know why. was only gone for a couple hours,” you lean into him and he digs his fingertips in your hair to massage your scalp.

“you’re just not used to going out without me there to help. had to make so many big decisions on your own, didn’t you?” he tuts and coos, his gruff voice only this cottony around you.

of course your tired. you hadn’t noticed john grind half of a sleeping pill up and slip it in your afternoon tea. not enough to knock you out, but enough to make you drowsy.

you nod into his chest, melting against him. for some reason, your eyes well with tears. your heart aches, you thought you had fared fine on your own until you came home. maybe you really did need him there. you wanted to do something on your own for once, have some you time. but it’s hard to feel under control when he’s not there towering over you, palm on the small of your back to guide you.

he hears you sniff, “shh, shhh. i know, honey,” and suddenly, you’re lifted up and brought to the couch. he wraps a blanket around you.

“be right back. dinner’s ready, you need food in your belly.”

your hand hesitantly leaves his, “m’kay.”

in a flash he comes back with a steaming bowl and a mug in hand.

“made your favorite. and i heated up some honey milk. it’ll relax you,” he places them on the coffee table, bringing your legs into his lap.

“thank you,” your lips wobble.

“you’re welcome, girlie. come on, sit up. time to eat.”

with all your strength you sit upright and reach for the bowl. john’s hand halts you, grabbing your wrist firmly, “no, no. i’m feeding you. my sweet little girl can’t do it on her own right now.”

“what? j-john, it’s really okay. i ca-“

“open.”

you follow his command without question. shocking yourself at your automatic obedience. humiliation runs hot through you and your cheeks warm at the fact he’s treating you like a child.

he blows on your bite of food and pushes it into your mouth. he hums, pleased.

“atta girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

you chew, the flavors melting on your tastebuds and the food breaking tenderly against your teeth. your eyes are close and you shake your head. after that bite he could do whatever he wants.

“good, hm?” he smiles, bringing the mug of sweet milk to your lips after you swallow your bite. you sip and he jerks the cup up slightly (an accident, he swears), causing milk to dribble on your chin and the sides of your mouth. a lewd sight for him.

“oops. sorry, angel,” he licks and kisses the liquid from your face, a little too rough. you wince.

“my messy girl.”

———————————————————————————

in bed it’s even worse. he’s leaving warm, tender kisses up the whole length of your body, admiring you. you’re on the edge of sleep. his beard tickles and make you squirm. you reach for him.

“y’feeling needy?” he brings himself up to your face so he’s hovering over you, studying your expression with those pacific blue eyes, “silly thing. this tired but you still need your daddy.”

your drowsy eyes snap open at the name, he’d never referred to himself as that before. you don’t know what to say. he huffs a laugh at your bewilderment.

he dips down, light kisses turning wet and hot as he makes his way up your neck. he suckles on your earlobe. “that’s right, angel. i’m your daddy, aren’t i?”

that one move alone makes you a puddle in his hands. you’d never called anyone daddy before, not even your own father, but john doesn’t give you a chance to protest when he’s staring intensely into your eyes, wordlessly demanding an answer. his fingers trace oh so lightly down your side, making you whine and shiver.

arousal and fear shoot through you, “yes, you’re my…d-daddy.”

“good girl. did such a good job. i know it’s new. but daddy’s gonna take care of you, understand?”

you nod, “please, want you.”

“and where do you want me, sweet thing?”

you squeak, covering your face with your hands. asking for what you want is still so hard for you.

john nips the skin on the back of your hand, breath fanning, “c’mon. look at me and use your words.”

you slowly take your hands down and look at him with drowsy eyes. tears of embarrassment well up.

“want you..in my pussy, please..”

john groans and kisses between your eyebrows, “knew you could do it. such a brave baby.”

he spreads your legs and dives down to nose at your clothed cunt, wetness darkening the fabric.

“look at you, so wet for me. i’ve barely done anything, angel,” he licks and sucks the fabric, reveling in your taste.

you moan and twitch at his ministrations, breath hitching when he pulls your panties off to suck on your slit, tongue pushing inside you.

your mind is foggy and all you can think about is john, john, john. you gasp and dig your hands through his cropped hair, “f-fuck, feels s’good,”

“language,” he commands, spanking your inner thigh.

you squeak, “m’sorry, sorry, daddy,”

“sweet girl,” he licks, “so apologetic,” he sucks, “s’okay. you just don’t know any better, do you?” he spits on your folds.

you’re an absolute mess, his condescending tone makes you arch up against his mouth, mustache and nose rubbing your swollen clit.

“yeah, ride my face, there you go.”

he stills and lets your sleepy body do the work. you feel your orgasm building, white and hot in your belly.

“gonna c-,” you whine.

john interrupts you, eager. “yeah? you almost there? go ahead, cum on me angel, let this pretty cunt make a mess f’me,” he shoves his fingers in you with a quickness, palming himself through his slacks. he too might cum at the sight of you.

you gasp and sob and moan, shaking against him. he pumps his fingers in and out of you, riding out your orgasm.

you sink back into the bed, panting.

“fuck, baby, y’did so good. gonna keep you,” he leans up and kisses you deeply, tongue shoving in your mouth. you taste yourself on him.

“you want that? want me to keep you? take care of you forever?”

you’re in a daze and you don’t really know what he means, but his saccharine tone makes whatever he’s saying sounds delicious. so you nod furiously before slumber takes you, shallow breaths turning deep and slow.

he takes his fingers out of your sensitive cunt.

“poor girl,” he nibbles at your neck and collarbone, sweet tone shifting, “gonna fuck you now, okay? i’ll be gentle, you won’t even notice.”

you don’t respond of course, your jaw is already slack and drool pools on the pillow. he collects it on the pad of his fingers and shoves it back into your mouth, you suck instinctively, even in sleep.

“fuck, keep sucking, there you go. you’re so beautiful,” he keeps his fingers in your mouth like a pacifier as he grabs his stiff cock from the fabric of his underwear, shuddering at the cool air hitting his tip.

he lines himself up with your entrance, dragging the tip up and down your wet folds, pressing against your clit. you let out a sleepy squeak.

he shushes you, “it’s just me, sweetheart,” he finally pushes inside you, his promise of being gentle leaving his mind as your gummy walls swallow him in.

he fucks you hard, pumping in and out, making your tits bounce. he loves it, eyes rolling back as he lets go inside you right then and there.

he pulls out to watch his spend spill out of you, just to collect it with his tip and shove it back in. he turns you on your side and plops next to you, cock buried inside you.

you wake up ten hours later to him sleepily rutting into you. your whole body aches. you don’t remember having sex last night.

“good morning, angel. sleep well?”

———————————————————————————

uggghhhb i need him.

[theartofsimpatry]

Unwanted Visitor

[theartofsimpatry]

I wanted to raise a topic here: none of us really know what Uchiha Madara is like.

From now on, I ask forgiveness of my English. Some parts translate on google, others I wrote myself, but of course there will be errors.

What do I mean about nobody knowing what Madara really is? Well, unlike many characters in the anime and manga, Madara never had the opportunity to describe himself or have a ubiquitous narrator. Description of him was summarized in for narrators: Hashirama, Obito, Zetsu, the people who knew his story literally and, finally, for a few minutes, Onoki.

I want to bring a little text made by myself about how Madara was described in different ways by each of these narrators and how, in fact, we don't know his true personality.

Starting with Obito: Madara was described as a grumpy and bossy man. Idealist, who knows, and who didn't give our little Uchiha any loopholes to form some kind of emotional bond. In the episodes that Obito described him, Madara was strong, but with a sad and very depressed air.

Madara in the cave was Obito's version. If we were just with her, we would have a much more grumpy Madara than just "merely irritable". We would have a darker, more idealistic and, I would say, much more manipulative and evil-minded version of him. In Obito's vision, he manipulated him into watching Rin die, when the plan actually came not only from him, but from Zetsu as well.

Moving on to Zetsu's vision, Madara was a naive child and easy to fool.

Weak, emotional, he would say that Zetsu saw him as someone lacking in affection and took advantage of that fact. Their relationship was one of "creator and nurture", but Madara little knew that what he thought he created would turn to him. Or that he was being tricked all this time into something bigger than just a perfect world. Zetsu took advantage of that, describing him as, he would say in very silly words, that Madara was an idiot.

Let's go to Onoki's vision, which despite being short, is there: he says that Madara was a despicable and armored person. That she didn't help those who needed it (of course, Onoki was furious at the Uchiha's statement about Konoha being dominant). He described him as someone mean and proud.

I also like to emphasize that Onoki's flashback has the forbidden image that is Madara in a bandana.

Onoki's vision is very similar to the generalized vision that ninjas have of Madara. And here we are to our fourth narrator: the rest. I assume I'm leaving the best for last, because for me, Hashirama's vision is too beautiful to be said at first.

The generalized view is interesting as it shows how rumors and slander can spread quickly and uncontrollably. To everyone, Madara is a cruel man who had the AUDACITY to betray Senju Hashirama. No one ever questioned why Madara attacked the very village he created, people just accepted a monstrous version of the Uchiha without question.

Not that Madara was a saint, really, but at some point in his mind, attacking Konoha made sense. Battling Hashirama made sense.

Then we have the generalized version: the bogeyman of ninjas. The man who fell to Hashirama (and this time it wasn't on his knees). The person that nobody really tried to understand the actions, just accepted the rumors and their distorted image of what happened almost a hundred years ago.

FINALLY, we have Hashirama's version: to him, Madara was a divine gift. Something close to angelic. Through many flashes, our beloved Senju describes Madara with scenarios that evoke peace and something domestic: them walking around the village, talking, with no weapons on their clothes.

In Hashirama's narration, Madara smiles often, seems light and carefree. He is a shy person, with a good heart and who has let himself be taken by the curse of hatred.

(Actually, I have another post about the personality differences between Hashirama and Madara, and how Hashirama agreed to certain terms with the moon plan. Someday I will post it)

Furthermore, to our god Shinobi, Madara is like an angel that he couldn't keep safe (or that he watched his wings get ripped off). He describes him as kind and protective of his clan, something VERY different from the former leader's general view. Hashirama still addresses Madara as something close to his peace, which suggests, in certain points, that Madara was doing it well. This is a very different view from what we have above.

So my point is: what, in fact, is Uchiha Madara's personality? We have the grumpy, the manipulable, the proud, the scary, and the kind. Madara may be all of them, but it's interesting to take these little details and compare them.

OMG!!!!!! BÔNUS!!!!

There is this battle narrated by Obito, where it is actually imagined by Sasuke. A lot of people talk about Madara's appearance in her (I particularly found him very cute), but I understand that, as was going on in Sasuke's mind, he couldn't form a more realistic scenario.

He had seen the monument with Hashirama's face all his life. It was common to form a more correct image of the Shodaime, however, he had only one statue to remember Madara and he didn't see it very often. His mind therefore formed a pattern of Uchiha appearance that closely approximated even his own appearance. It's something to think about...

[theartofsimpatry]

Sweat and cologne together disgusts ＼(◎o◎)／！

Nimodo plays a bath ‎·ࡇ·

[theartofsimpatry]

eclipse

[theartofsimpatry]

I got like an idea-

Have you seen those art trends where it’s like- “Us after pound town”?

The one recording is like covered in hickeys, bruises, bitemarks etc but is completely fine and eating their meal? Then they flip the camera and it’s the top who is like wrecked. Heavily panting, shaking, unable to eat their food.

Imagine that- but the 141 x reader 😂

mdni

Reader: happily eating their meal like the 141 didn’t blow their back out less than an hour ago.

Price: all deep breathing and forced focus—pretends (and fails to hide) that his hand isn’t shaking every time it emerges from under the table.

Soap: hisses every time he tries to rest his back against the booth (it’s covered in scratches.)

Gaz: can’t pick up his silverware because his fingers and hands are sore from staying in the same position while bringing you orgasm after orgasm.

Ghost: winces every time he moves because his dick is sore from you milking every drop.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[theartofsimpatry]

face studies with the vaqueros i did some time ago!🤠🤠

...and some white guy ig.

[theartofsimpatry]

Who out of the cod men do you think would be into thigh fucking?

One would do it for punishment and the other to watch you in awe. I'll let you guess which one is which:)