#<- it kind of is but the rage just kind of consumed me a little. like i dont get why he's this bad at it!!! i do actually but like god it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dirtymana · 7 hours

Text

Simon/reader

This is my first Simon fic so be kind! Check me out on Ao3 (DirtyMana)

Fuck.

Rage was a nasty thing. Where anger simmered, rage boiled over. Where sorrow lingered, rage consumed. Simon knew that this would bring nothing but pain, though that didn't stop the nasty sensation from creeping up his throat, paired nicely with bile and an excess of saliva. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched. He felt feral.

It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that other men could conjure up flirtations so easily. Wasn't fair that other men could make your lashes flutter and your cheeks flush. You weren't his, sure, but maybe if he had the words you would be. Why didn't he have the words?

Simon knew how he felt. He knew he softened his tone around you. Knew he went out of his way to make you laugh. Knew his heart beat faster at the sight of you. But how do you put any of that into words?

This would all be fine if it was just sexual. He’d had his fair share of quick fucks, sure, but this was different. This went deeper. You deserve better than him, he knows that, but still he craves what he can not have. He fumes in the corner of the shitty pub. Rages. Watches silently as you brush drunken advances off, ordering a second round and swiftly carrying the drinks back to your shared booth. Your lips move but he doesn't hear a thing. Just nods every few seconds.

“Simon?”

Can't you see what you do to him?

“Simon.”

Can’t you see how he aches?

“Simon!”

He startles. He can’t remember the last time someone startled him. The fuck’s happening to me?

“Hm?”

“You okay? Been hitting it pretty hard.”

Your pretty eyes dart down. His gaze follows. Empty glasses that were once filled with a piss-poor brew are scattered around him. Shit.

“Guess ‘m just feelin' a bit messy.”

Concern dances across your features, a confused smile melting into a pout.

Fuck

“Do you need me to drive you home?”

You must be able to tell he’s about to refuse because your face hardens, insistence written all over.

“Alright big guy, let’s go.”

The car ride is quiet, nearly silent if not for your soft humming. The tune had been damn near intolerable when blasting through the pub’s speakers, though your sweet voice transforms it into something much more grand. His thoughts swirl as he watches the dreary scenery flit by, head pressed to the window of your car.

You’re too sweet. Too kind. It isn't fair that you're so good and he’s so bad.

It isn't long before you're pulling into his driveway, your headlights shining into the bare interior of his house. Price had encouraged him to buy the place, tired of Simon lingering on base when he should’ve been relaxing. He had yet to decorate, much to your irritation. “What kind’ve friend am I if I let you live like this?” You'd said it with a teasing smirk, gesturing wildly about. Cute.

There is a moment of pause, the car’s engine rumbling to a stop. You turn your head, presumably to say something, though you stop yourself. He thinks for a second that you're trying to kick him out, bid him farewell and leave. You really ought to. You don’t. When he reaches for his car door, you reach for yours. You loop your arm through his while walking him to his door, as if you could steady his stumbling, catch his fall. Simon breaks contact only to rifle through his pockets, pulling his house key out and sliding into the door. Again, there is a pause, a moment of uncertainty. Your eyes seem to plead. When he turns the handle he makes sure to give you enough room to slide past him, shedding shoes and coats in his entryway.

Already the room seems more alive, your scattered belongings somehow ushering light into his dark little life. Few words are exchanged as you help him shed his outer layers, the occasional murmur of his name and exacerbated chuckle echoing in the foyer. He catches himself leaning into your warm touch.

Fuck

You manage to untangle yourself from his grip, nudging him away from the door. He briefly considers making his way to his actual bed, but quickly dismisses the thought. He doesn't want to scare you off and, honestly, in his squiffy stupor, the couch looks quite nice. With his back the cushions and his arms outstretched he looks to you.

“C’mon then, pet.”

You blush, must be the lighting, and follow suit, making yourself comfortable atop his chest. It’s not rare that the two of you touch, though it’s the first time Simon’s been the one to instigate. If he could purr, he would. He’s getting lazy, not even trying to hide the way his droopy eyes trace the lines of your face. He leans forward a centimeter, an inch, two inches. He’s ready for you to jerk back. For you to scream. For you to insist that you always have been, and always will be, just friends. But you don’t do any of those things. You lean forward too. You close the gap.

Sparks fly as lips part.

Didn’t know it could be like this, I don’t think. Didn’t know it could be so sweet. So soft. Is this what all those lovesick, puppy-eyed recruits were talking about?

Thoughts slowed as the kiss went on. It felt like touching an exposed wire, somehow burning and numbing all at the same time, intensifying every feeling yet dulling any sense that wasn't focused on you. When you pull away, an unspoken tension seems to be cleared from the air, leaving only the comfortable warmth of familiarity and affection. Simon wants to say something suave, something charming. Simon wants to finally find the words. But his eyelids feel so heavy and you feel so warm and for the first time in his life, he knows he will sleep.

It can wait for the morning. I can wait for the morning.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost call of duty #dirtymana

86 notes · View notes

sugarsnappeases · 3 days

Text

what’s that i hear you say ? ‘oh kara, will you please ramble to me about rodolphus lestrange' ?

well... i suppose i could.... if you insist...

to me, rodolphus is outwardly just your run-of-the-mill pureblood heir. he's the spitting image of his father, he's been raised to replace him and ultimately he’ll do it without complaining bc it's his Right. he's the lestrange heir and everything that entails in terms of like. authority and capability and stoicism and just generally having power and wielding it comfortably (and also being a raging blood supremacist xoxo)

and to me the lestranges are very Normal in terms of pureblood aristocracy (and oh i could go into rabastan too, he's the classic like no-responsibilities spare to me, in an ideal world he'd be on one endless Grand Tour, gadding about europe all byronesque, quaffing wine from skulls and swimming nude in the venetian canals. but these are thoughts for another day), like they don’t really have so much of that beautiful inherent crazy that there is in the blacks, or the rosiers or carrows for example.

but that doesn’t mean that he’s not a deeply unpleasant individual, to me he’s very like. surly. like he can do the whole polite charming high society act, maintaining alliances or whatever, but the majority of the time he spends at balls and galas and things is just brooding over a glass of firewhiskey. and he’s like tall, well-built, imposing, and probs glowering into the middle distance so he’s really not very approachable

he’s smart. he’s a skilled duellist. he takes himself very seriously. his involvement with the dark arts is a mixture of family expectation, academic interest, and the desire for some kind of outlet. bc i think also he’s very angry a lot of the time - angry about his responsibilities, and having to interact w the other purebloods, and at his brother, and at his wife (and i could talk forever about bella & rodo’s relationship i’ve been buzzing with thoughts about them recently) and he’s never once dealt w any emotion in a healthy way, he’s very careful about always being imperturbable in public, so he channels those like. violent thoughts into, initially, testing out curses on animals and things, and then, when he joins the death eaters (and also probs even before that), on the people that he views as animals (muggleborns. and i hope it’s clear that this isn’t a view i endorse i just like exploring his character)

when you stiff upper lip so hard that you have to join a terrorist organisation just so you don’t explode from pent-up rage….. happens to the best of us……. anyway i reckon he’s one of the earlier people to join the death eaters, once tom came back to england, bc he’s very convinced of his superiority over muggleborns and he’s got the skills, the social standing, and the violent urges to make tom want him on board. i think that he joined before bella did even and she then joined through him but that’s a different can of worms.

he’s up there w the most loyal and the most trusted death eaters bc he takes it almost as seriously as he takes his role as heir. he’s powerful and he’s ambitious and he’s really fucking angry. he’s got an intense competitive nemesis situation going on with antonin dolohov (they also fuck. i have a lot to say about them. i’ve been concocting lore recently). he doesn’t denounce the dark lord after halloween 1981, he spends the rest of his life in and out of azkaban, consumed by The Cause.

he can never complete his duty as the lord lestrange. like i think his dad died fairly young so rod is the lord for a solid ten/fifteen years before his first arrest but even then, he and bella don’t have kids, there’s no lestrange heir, and he never even succeeds in getting rabastan to marry someone. he doesn’t secure the family legacy, him and his brother are the last of their line, he’s essentially failed in the task that he was born and raised to fulfil, but by that point he’s resigned himself to it. i think he flounders a little after his first escape from azkaban when he obvs can’t really publicly be an aristocrat anymore, bc he’s lost the central purpose of his life, but then he just doubles back down on his little killing torturing bigotry side hustle.

he’s loyal to the dark lord even after his death (both deaths) to the extent of going to azkaban for him (three times) bc he’s leaned into that outlet, that release for his anger (which by that point would’ve changed targets somewhat), so much that it’s become the core of his existence. he is. i feel. a bit of a poster boy for the death eaters. and i think he’s neat.

bosh. thank you for your time 🙏

#he’s been so on the mind for the last few days so sorry not sorry for blathering on a little #and like. there's more to say. i could go on..... one note and i'll make a separate post about rodolhov #also a separate post about his and bella’s relationship. drives me INSANE. also maybe one about rabastan as well #this is just the very tippety top of the iceberg babey #my like. older death eaters era is sooo back and better than ever and i’ve decided it’s time to share w the class #anyway #kara's writing #rodolphus lestrange #rodo

16 notes · View notes

volfoss · 19 days

Text

Actually sorry I need to bitch and moan about this. I've been reading the san.dman (do not ever do this to yourself it's a hell unimaginable by anyone) and like... I really think it's interesting how much ga/iman is praised as super progressive on Tumblr for THIS specifically when it has so so much bad in it. About 10 issues in I started a game with how many women were in the issue who survived/were raped/nearly raped and it was insane how little women did not fit into these categories. One black woman lived and the rest were all burned alive. And he then later gave an excuse that it was bc of how Dream imprisoned Nada (16 year old African queen who fell in love with him. Its a very big mess and really sucks) in Hell so of course it influenced the entire world and so every black woman but ONE (who was introduced in the second to last issue) died and died violently. Not even to get into how it plays into the really violent misogyny that he had during the short story he wrote around the end of San.dman (when he was in his mid 30s) that was literally just one graphic rape scene to a minor after another (his snow white retelling is pretty infamous bc of how bad it is just by the summary but let me tell you that it is FAR worse to read). Like there's so so much that I think people do not discuss with his writing and it honestly just is very baffling that people hype him up given well. Everything that happens in San.dman. like the endless alone has a lot of... Well let's say interesting issues. Every single woman dream comes across wants to fuck him (to the point that at his funeral, it's 90% the women he was with/wanted to be with him and then a little from his siblings????), despairs entire character is literally just that she's depressed and coincidentally the most prominent fat character (and also naked all the time. Which they did seem to fix in the show but it's baffling how it's like her, one serial killer who nearly raped a woman before dream stops him, a guy that dies and I guess Abel if you squint for the fat rep) and then desire oh my god. I wish desire was written well instead of here's our nonbinary/gender fluid/genderless rep (cool in theory!!!) and then the fact that it (in the original series, she uses he she and it pronouns) raped a woman is dropped on your head and he is not at all regretful about it and ends up like.. taunting the victims granddaughter??? And delirium my god if there was ever a representation for born sexy yesterday and also being weird as fuck about mental illness it would be her. She's barely clothed most of the time, referred to as very very young most of the time and her mental illness (vague) is just kind of used as a joke a lot of the time? Like it's a funny joke that she doesn't remember stuff or that she's overstimulated or that she's using the wrong words or talking like a child. It's really weird because all of these characters have potential but they aren't really ever treated that way. Me when I get him for every single woman treated horribly!!!!!

#twist rambles #i am NOT taking any chances for this thus why its censored bc well. i don't want to deal w it lol #rape mention #misogyny #misogynoir #<- all for bl but im mad about this againnnn #sorry im just!!!!!! when i get him!!! like ppl do NOT know how bad it is and how bad it's handled #no notes on d/eath bc her writing is mostly ok minus the spinoffs but god I just. the way he treats women!! it's bad lmao #not even to get into the lgbt handling bc like.. i guess he was trying but man its so so bad. genuinely do not get me started on it #long post #<- it kind of is but the rage just kind of consumed me a little. like i dont get why he's this bad at it!!! i do actually but like god it #sucks. very good to read this if u want to blow him up already and want to strengthen that #im on a spinoff that everyone hates rn and like man its weirdly a relief that its not written by him. I'm excited to see the stuff caítlin #wrote bc maybe it'll be better. im back to the mines now but. know it's bad ok #and that SUCKS bc like there r characters i like. theres parts i enjoy.#8 was the only one i rly would recommend bc it works better than a lot of the stuff in it but man. yeah. it sucks to see the potential in a #media and then its like misogyny sledgehammer!!!!!

10 notes · View notes

thanatoseyes · 1 month

Text

Don't mind me just sitting here angrily staring at Taylor Swift's new album that's being shoved through my throat like a hot knife.

#ugh i dont want to talk about her #if you like her thats fine whatever #i just dont and this new album feels like a cash grab so hard #and this one particular song just hit me the wrong way #i dont know her i dont know her life i dont know what shes thinking #the 1830s song was bad enough #it tastes like those poorly written college students fiction where theyve done no research and think what theyve written can change the genr #and yet its completely tone def and needs to be gone through a goddamn ethics committee #makes you want to punch a wall gos #im mentally ill bro so mentally ill and it feels like a pit in my chest #and shes writing things like youre afraid of little old me haha you put me in an asylum aha im crazy #i can feel my teeth breaking #head in my hands i am trying not to be absolutely phased by this #because its kind of been a shit day and i keep fucking up and this one thing kind of hit me out of nowhere so im trying #because my fiance is coming home and were going out and i want to have a good time #and not be consumed by a depression fueled rage #ugh why why does she have a platform???

0 notes

ultravioletrayz · 4 months

Text

soccer dad!miguel who despises that shithead #10 for being too rough with his precious baby girl on the field. He can't wait until Gabi's old enough for the all girl's team, but until then, Miguel would have to cope with watching the boys on the opposition get away with completely barreling through his little angel.

soccer dad!miguel who yells over all the soccer moms on the sideline, making sure his booming praise reaches Gabriela and his childishly cruel berating throws off whoever's trying to tackle her as she dribbles the ball up the field.

soccer dad!miguel who loses his absolute shit when Gabi is elbowed to the ground by that #10 kid. His fatherly instincts consume him and without thinking, he storms onto the field cursing at the ref and yelling all sorts of profanities in both Spanish and English. His veins bulge in his biceps and head as he rushes over to console Gabriela, but he swallows his outrage momentarily to crouch down on the grass.

soccer dad!miguel who carries himself with such tenderness when checking to make sure his daughter isn't injured, sighing heavily with relief when he's met with a reassuring smile from the mildly frazzled little girl. That soft demeanour completely transforms into pure protectiveness and anger as he stands up and turns to glare at #10, his tall, tan, muscular body towering over the little boy.

"¿Qué demonios fue eso? Just because you want to win doesn’t mean you have to push and shove. That kind of behaviour is for losers. Weren’t you raised to treat girls with respect?" He scolds, his voice dripping with judgement as his sharp red eyes bore into the poor kid.

soccer dad!miguel who can't help but scoff, unimpressed, when the little boy starts crying, his stature and harsh words obviously scaring the kid as he sniffles and looks back and forth between Gabriela and Miguel apologetically, but he's unable to find his words in the presence of such an intimidating grown up. Miguel’s attention shifts to the young woman rushing onto the field towards #10, a scowl on his face.

“Watch your mouth, asshole. He’s just a kid playing a game, it’s not like he was trying to hurt her!” You yell at the tall, stoic man. You reach out to comfort the little boy, wiping away his tears.

soccer dad!miguel who hasn’t seen such a beautiful girl in his entire life. His ex-wife was okay, but their relationship turned nasty, all remnants of feelings completely soiled by her tendency to lie and cheat. He finds himself checking you out, sharp red eyes lingering on your curves before he feels Gabi hugging his leg and he’s immediately snapped back into his state of disdain and rage.

“Your kid has been roughing my daughter up the whole damn day. Doesn’t seem like a fun game to me.” Miguel counters, patting Gabriela’s head as he glares at you.

“For starters, he’s not my kid. And also, she’s not even hurt! I’ll admit, it wasn’t a clean tackle, but you’re overreacting and you’re making an innocent kid cry.” You scoff, finding this grown man’s behaviour unbelievable as your nephew cowers behind your leg, leaving you and Miguel staring each other down.

soccer dad!miguel who’s aware that he can be a bit overprotective of Gabriela at times, and begrudgingly decides to back down. Especially when you’re looking at him with those beautiful eyes. He’d let this random woman do anything to him as long as she’s looking at him with those eyes.

“Shit… look, I may have come off more aggressive than I intended. I didn’t mean to scare your…?” Miguel begins, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at Gabi and then back up at you.

“Nephew.”

“Your nephew. He just needs to watch out not to do any damage to the other players, especially the girls.” Miguel says softly, trying to be the bigger person for Gabriela’s sake (and also because he wants to distract himself from how hot it was when you told him off)

soccer dad!miguel who forgets about being nice and friendly when you shrug him off with a frustrated “whatever” and walk off hand-in-hand with your nephew. That’s when he looks around in confusion to see that the game had ended and everyone had left the field. Miguel picks Gabi up and kisses the side of her head, although he's still seething at how that #10 got off unscathed and you didn't even attempt to acknowledge his attempts at an apology for losing his cool. He spends the entire afternoon silently dreading the next time the two teams have a game together, because he'll have to endure the sight of that little shit and his aunty with the fat ass.

NEXT PART

#ultravioletrayz #soccer dad!miggy #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel spiderman

1K notes · View notes

idkfitememate · 2 months

Text

Still tired but just wanted to remind you that the Obey Me Brothers (- Satan + Lilith) were probably the “Seven Heavenly Virtues” before they fell/died and that was probably so hard for them like-

Lucifer going from Humility to Pride

Mammon going from Charity to Greed

Leviathan going from Kindness to Envy

Asmodeus going from Chastity to Lust

Beelzebub going from Temperance to Gluttony

And Belphegor going from Diligence to Sloth

Imagine as Lucifer going through it because now you can’t talk with your brothers, now you hold them to an expectation you would’ve never before - and yourself to an even higher one - and watching them loose themselves to their sins.

Watching Mammon lose himself to monetary values to the point where he’d be willing to sell his own brothers out if it came to it, and knowing that at some point he would’ve sold his everything because he believed it was right. Shit thing is that he still loves his brothers, and under the greed is guilt for hurting them like this.

Watching Levi, once a kind and loving man who would never leave anyone out become a self deprecating and destructive mess who shuts the world out. Who spends his time obsessing over what others have that he can’t and fighting tooth and nail to fix that, even if it hurts him. He, like Lucifer, has to be the best at his chosen craft or else it’s all for naught, but unlike Lucifer he’s very vocal about his losses and how much he hates others who have better than him.

Asmo, who at one point was basically repulsed at the idea of carnal love and wanted to wait, to hold out until he found the one he was searching for. Believe if that saving himself for his future partner was the ultimate act of love. And now watching him fall to depravity, unable to feel love unless it’s carnal in some sense. Everything must be passionate, with little room for true love. Feelings pushed aside for the heat of the moment, giving his body away to feel something. Finding no worth in himself unless it’s his body, and that translating over to how he treats his brothers. They have to suck up his shockingly flirty remarks to them because he can’t help it, that’s how he’s forced to show love now; fast, rushed, and carnal.

Watching Beel, a man who took everything in moderation, never allowing himself more than what he needed in food and drink in favor of helping others, loose himself to the mind numbing pleasure of sitting there and eating and drinking and eating and drinking and eating and drinking with no end in sight. As he can’t help himself but do anything for a meal, much like Mammon. Willing to do damn near anything to fill the hole in his stomach. No matter the cost.

And Belphy. A man once so awake and alert and ready for anything that even Lucifer would have to tell him to take a break. Always raring and ready to go and help any and everyone in need sleep his days away. Too lazy to do basic tasks at some points like eat. Lazing about too tired to do anything, including care for those around him. Too tired to do anything.

And the haunting truth that you, as Lucifer, created Wrath. Satan, your youngest brother in age and fourth in power. Knowing on the daily that he puts on a mask, a front so that his rage doesn’t consume him in an all burning inferno. Knowing that any little thing could set him off, and that’d be it. He shares next to nothing with you and your brothers because, while unspoken, it’s known that he’ll never be as close as the six of you. He didn’t experience the war, he didn’t experience the fall, he didn’t experience her death. Unlike your brothers who have all changed in some distressing way he’s always been rage. Always been Wrath. A true sin through and through. Never will you experience the same things and that keeps you separated.

And about her, to know deep in your heart that she, the Virtue of Patients, would’ve become the Sin of Wrath keeps you up at night, her face of smiles turning to a wrathful frown scares you. Nightmares flash behind your eyes of her being mad, furious even, so you starve the nights off with a never ending pile of paperwork and coffee.

… Did I just accidentally character study?-

#obey me #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #character study #im gonna unpack now #then sleep some more lol

482 notes · View notes

signedkoko · 6 months

Note

Alastor x gn! Reader wherein redemption has been found possible, and s/o had to be the first one to go while he's left in hell.

And he misses them.

Alastor X GN!Reader [Angst]

In which Alastor unfortunately lost you in a way he's not sure he can ever get you back.

Alastor met you at that blasted hotel long ago, when everything had first started

And no, he never believed it in, he always teased you before and after you were together about how much you trusted Charlie, as if there was any rhyme or reason

But you worked hard, harder than anyone else, even Charlie

Hours spent manning the hotel, encouraging others to join, keeping yourself clean and being kind

When you both wed, in his vows he joked if anyone, you'd be the first to go

What a sick joke

No one knew what was happening, when a light broke out and consumed you, when your body became lighter than air, when everyone saw you for what you were

An angel

Alastor wasn't there when it happened, he only saw the light pierce through the skies, and was at a loss when he tried calling but got no answer

Honestly, he didn't have much of a reason to worry

He just, well- he didn't feel right

So to assure himself everything was dandy as per, he decided to detour a little sooner back to the hotel

He saw celebration, he saw Charlie, he saw your ring on the floor

And he didn't see you

For the first in a long, long time, he struggled to smile

No one can get to him, and no one wants to, he's stood still, racing through every possibility, every action he has to take

He knows you're not hiding, you would never pull such a cruel joke on him

But then what

Everything he has done as a human, in the afterlife, everything about him

There's no way he could get into heaven, not for centuries and aeons

If he tried breaking into heaven for you and failed, it'd take quadruple that time to switch plans and make up for ever trying

It haunts him, knowing that the best course of action is to just, not do anything

He's always clutching your ring, staring at everything of yours in the hotel, pacing back and forth in your room, thinking

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

And with months, then weeks, slowly more people start to join you

He can't admit it, but he's jealous, he is seething with nothing but envy and rage that everyone else gets to be with you, everyone but him

Alastor the Radio Demon eventually fades form the public eye, becoming nothing but an afterthought, a bad taste left over in the back of your throat when the topic comes up years later

No one knows where he is, what became of him

No one knows what pitiful creature he’s sunk into, obsessed with an angel he'd leave nothing but stains on

Author's Note - When I got this request I got SO excited, it really inspired me, so thank you!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader

795 notes · View notes

screamingwailing · 8 months

Text

Jealous/Aggressive!König x Reader Fic

CW: possessive!König, afab reader, oral (giving and receiving), aggressive unprotected sex, p in v action

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

König is usually so kind and patient with you, so careful not to scare you or make you feel unsafe with his massive frame and dominating presence. He’s aware of how intimidating he can be, he normally strives for it, lives off the feeling of instilling fear. It’s how he’s so good at his job.

But…he isn't like that with you, never with you.

When he’s with you, Colonel König fades away, he just becomes yours. He can melt away from the blood, the death, the carnage. You’re his sanctuary.

So when he comes back after a long mission and he sees you still up, playing a game with one of those fucking friends of yours - friends that he can hear are men - he snaps and loses it.

With your headphones on you don’t even hear him open the door, don’t see him stalk into the room, jealousy and spite in his eyes.

All he wanted when he came home was to unwind into you, to turn into the person he only ever was and could be with you, and some random nobody was in the way of that. He couldn’t have that.

Without so much as a sound, he quickly turns you around in your chair, ripping your headset off, and muffling your frightened sounds with his massive hand. For the first time, you looked at him with fear. Why did he love it so?

Standing over you, hand covering your mouth and most of your face, gripping your head with a strength and force not familiar to you, you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. Gone is the man you fell in love with, in front of you was a monster no different from any other man on the battlefield.

He glares down at you with a fiery vengeance. “I’m home meine Kleines.”

Your head desperately moves, trying to escape his grasp, König gently tuts at you.

“Ah-ah, meine Liebe. What do you think you are doing? Did you not miss me?” His voice practically came out in a hiss, sneer under his mask.

You look up at him, a pleading look in your tear-filled gaze. You did, you missed him more than anything. Why else would you stay up all night playing games with people you barely cared to remember the names of? Why else would you have a constant stream of distractions? The loneliness in absence of your king was all-consuming. But this wasn’t him, surely. Your König would never hurt you, never scare you like this.

He brings his other hand up to his masked face, signaling you to be quiet. You nod as much as he allows. Satisfied by your obedience, he slowly shifts the hand covering your mouth to instead firmly grab your chin and cheeks, his thumb and forefinger wrapping around you with a dull pain.

“Doll, why is it that when your king came home to you, you weren’t waiting in bed? Did my absence mean nothing to you? Were you off trying to find someone new?” At this, the grip around you tightens, causing you to wince, tears falling down his fingers.

Seeing you wince, König falters for just a moment, his grip loosening just enough to allow you to speak.

“N-no! I-…I would never! Please, why are you being like this, what did I do wrong?”

Wrong answer. As if possessed, König’s eyes darken and grow cold once more. “Lügen! You lie, little mouse.”

He looms over you, rage and turmoil in his gaze. Desperate to get through to him, your voice becomes shrill with desperation. “I’m not lying, I promise! Please, you’re hurting me, let go!”

König considers this for a moment, then cocks his head to the side, his eyes almost glowing red from the light of your computer. “Nein, I will not let go of you again. It seems I need to remind you who you belong to.”

You gulp, your fear tingling with arousal. Regardless of his fearsome state, you can’t help but feel your body react to his words, your legs squirming together. König’s eyes flick towards the movement, not missing your reaction.

Voice filled with an almost childlike mirth, he chuckles at this. “Ah, it seems your body remembers, even if its treacherous owner strays.”

He leans towards your head, breathing your scent in deeply. “I have missed you, so, meine Liebe. If only you had stayed good for me…if only I were enough for you.”

Your eyes meet his, his mask still covering a majority of his expression. You don’t understand, he was his normal affectionate self when he had left for his most recent mission. You can feel your pulse rapidly beating in your throat, but still, you can’t help but notice the pain in his eyes. And even more obvious than this, the protruding bulge in his tactical pants. You’re afraid…you’re afraid but…it’s still König. You’d trust him with your life. You sharply inhale through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily, then exhaling and meeting his gaze once more. You’re no longer afraid.

His massive hand is still gripping your face tightly, but he notices the change in your demeanor and steps back in confusion. You gently reach out, as if scared to frighten him. Your much smaller hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hand back up to your throat.

“I missed you too, König. More than you could ever know. You know you’re the only one for me. You’re my everything.” Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, bordering on obsession.

König looks at you, conflicted, before his eyes harden once more. He steps forwards, his hand tightening around your throat. “Prove it to me. Prove to me that I am the only one for you.”

He lets go of your throat, instead guiding your head towards his straining bulge. Without wasting a moment, you lunge forward, as if starved. In a way, you were; it had been so long since your king had been home with you. You make sure to lock eyes with him as your teeth close around his zipper, pulling it down agonizingly slow. He groans in anticipation, his fingers sliding through your hair. He impatiently tugs, urging you on. Wanting to please, you kiss him through his boxers, suckling and gently biting along his shaft through the fabric.

“Enough teasing, Liebe. I want your mouth around me” He grits out, his pupils blown out in arousal.

Your heart rate increases again, this time in anticipation, as you tug his clothing down. His cock bounces up against his stomach and you almost moan at the sight. Without wasting any time, you engulf his tip between your lips, making sure to wrap your tongue around at the same time. He hisses in surprise, his cock already starting to leak in your mouth. You suck harder on his tip, savoring the taste of him. You lock eyes as you take him deeper, tears already forming from the stretch in your mouth. His head falls back for a moment, lost in pleasure, before gripping your hair tighter.

“Deeper” he growls out. It’s not a request, it’s an order, and you’re more than happy to comply.

Taking him deeper, you gag around him. He’s so fucking big, you can barely continue. You wrap your hands around his thick shaft, making sure to pump whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Your drool drips down him, mixing with his precum. You moan around him, bobbing your head faster, trying to take him as deep as you can.

“Scheiße, that’s it. Such a good little whore for me. God, have I missed this mouth.”

König looks down on you, shoving your head down further as his eyes roll back in pleasure. You gag around him, tears streaming down your face. You aren’t used to him manhandling you like this, but you can’t deny what it does to you. You feel the heat between your legs, the growing wet spot in your underwear only getting worse with each passing moment. Something about the utter possession and loss of control makes you crazy, your mouth bobbing faster, drool dripping all the way down to König’s heavy balls.

Looking up at him with your tear streaked cheeks and red eyes, König can’t help but groan at the sight, his balls tightening. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, especially since it’s been so long since he last felt you.

König’s grip on your hair grows painful as he lets out a low moan. “Kleines, take it for me. I’m going to cum down your throat. You’ll be such a good whore and swallow it all for me, ja?”

You hum your approval around him, groaning in anticipation. The vibration sends him over the edge and you feel hot liquid spurt down your throat. As promised, you do your best to swallow every drop, your mind hazing with the taste and overwhelming sensation of König all around you. Despite your best efforts, you begin to choke, his cum seemingly never ending. He pulls your head back, finishing his climax on your face. You look up at him with a look of utter bliss, eyes clouded in lust, cum dripping down your face and down your chin.

“My god, look at you, Schatz. So perfect for me, such a good little cumslut. Gutes Mädchen.” König’s voice is gravelly from the pleasure, praise spilling from his lips like a prayer.

His strong arms lift you up as he carries you to your bedroom. Completely cumdrunk, you don’t even notice until you feel him throw you onto the bed. Like a predator stalking his prey, König’s massive frame draws closer, the bed creaking under his weight. He grips your thighs strong enough to bruise as he spreads them. He lifts his mask up just enough to show his chiseled jaw and scarred lips, his long tongue tracing his near fang-like canines as he takes in the delicious sight of you before him.

“Meine Kleine, you did so well for me. Let me reward you” König practically purrs out, before he lifts your legs upwards as he dives towards your heat.

Still cumdrunk, you moan at the sudden pleasure, your mind further clouding with König’s skilled tongue at work. You feel him expertly work you, his tongue pushing deep within you as he thumbs your clit. He groans against you and you can feel his grin against your cunt. His nose presses against your clit as he pushes his tongue in deeper, adding a finger to further your pleasure. You feel his finger push up against the spot that makes you see stars as his tongue slips out of you and over your sensitive clit. You scream out, unable to stop your cries. This only spurs him on more, König positively ravenous for you, drinking in every noise you make. He noisily laps around your clit, sensing your oversensitivity, as he adds a second thick finger. You whine at the stretch, wanting more while also adjusting to the intrusion.

“P-please, König! I need you, please, please-” you beg for him, watching his breath quicken in response.

König pulls away from your dripping pussy to shush you,“Shh, patience, Schatz. All in due time.”

You whine in response, attempting to buck your hips against his face. He holds your legs tighter, squeezing them and pulling them more firmly while pushing you against the bed. You can’t help but twitch in response, loving how easily he can maneuver you. One hand is enough to hold you down while the other brutally fucks into your heat, relentlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping against your clit as he laps around your folds. You can feel your climax building, keening and squirming in his grasp. A silent scream escapes your lips as you feel König wrap his mouth around your sensitive nub, sucking your clit while still working your soaking cunt.

“There it is, Schatz, let go for your King. Show me that you belong to me, that you will only cum for me.”

Your release rips through you violently, your vision going white as your entire body lifts and shakes, trembling through the powerful orgasm. König continues to roughly finger you through it, torturing you with his continuous ministrations. He smirks down at you as you attempt to squirm away.

“Now, now, Liebe. You didn’t think I would be satisfied with just that, did you? I know you can cum again for me.”

König latches his mouth around you once again, his fingers rhythmically abusing your sensitive insides, pumping them against your spot over and over. You scream as another orgasm is ripped from you, tears once again streaming down your face. Panting from the overexertion, your legs quake and twitch.

“Gutes Mädchen, such a good slut for me” König looks at you smugly, pride and confidence clearly showing in his eyes.

Still between your legs, you feel something hot against your entrance. König continues to grip your legs tightly, looking at you with a new glint in his eyes: a look of predation, of total need and lust. You shudder, another wave of arousal hitting your already exhausted body.

“Are you ready, meine Liebe?” König looms over you, a toothy grin set on his face as he pushes inside you.

You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you’re entirely filled, the stretch of König’s fingers nothing in comparison to his monstrous cock. Long and girthy, he fills you like no one else, reminding you with each thrust just who you belong to. As he pounds into you, your throat becomes raw with broken sobs and moans. He fucks you like an animal, all need and desire, carnal nearly to the point of pain. König folds you in half with his massive frame, tantalizing moans and grunts coming from above you as he fucks you faster.

You can tell he’s about to cum, to completely fill you inside and mark you as his. As his orgasm approaches his thrusts become erratic and impatient, sounds of skin slapping against skin and dueted moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. You’re about to cum for a third time, this time with him.

As König’s orgasm tears through him he lunges his mouth forward, attacking your throat with his sharp canines. Practically growling around your throat, he marks you both inside and out, painting your insides with his cum while he draws blood on your throat.

He collapses on top of you for a moment before slowly rising and looking at your fucked-out expression. As if the spell on him finally dissipated, König calms for the first time since his arrival. He gently strokes your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead. He collapses back against your chest, clinging to your form tightly. “I..I’m sorry, meine Liebe. When I was in the field you were all I thought of. Every day, I only thought of returning to you. To come home to you speaking to another, I couldn’t bear it.”

You sigh softly before looking at him with a soft smile before saying the words you’ve been practicing in secret, “Du bist mein ein und alles, König”.

His eyes widen at this, then soften and close once more, finally content and at peace with his love. No more words need to be exchanged, you both understand what you mean to one another. Finally, you could rest with your König.

hello meowdy! this is my first fic, pls b kind ;;

#konig #könig #konig x reader #konig cod #cod smut #mint writes #cod mw2 #konig fic

1K notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 3 months

Text

Acotar Males: Yelling at you and watch you get horny over it

Summary: “i wish you could wrote headcanons where the acotar men yells at reader and instead of being sad or hurt, she is squeezing her thighs and has heart eyes bc it’s hot and they look so hot being mad”

Warnings: SMUT, jealousy and cursing.

Word Count: 1K

Notes: I loved writing this hehehe

Main Masterlist

Rhysand:

He’s pacing around the room, power sweeps through his control at the thought of another male flirting with you.

You notice the sour mood he’s in, sitting on your vanity table as you start to remove the jewellery adorning your neck.

“That fucker was flirting with you.” Anger laces his voice, the animalistic tune sending shivers down your spine and reaching the wrong parts of your body.

Clenching your legs for some friction as that burning rage gaze locks with yours through the mirror. Your cunt throb and you know you shouldn’t feel this way especially cuz he’s fucking yelling at you.

But all you can think is him angrily pounding on you from behind, your face pressed in the cold surface as he fills you up to the brim.

He caught the change in the scent, a cruel smirk creeping up on his beautiful face.

“You dirty little thing, you like that, don’t you?” His voice is raspy as he approaches you, ready to give what you want.

Cassian:

Cassian wasn’t the jealous type, he trusted you and knew you would never cheat on him, but something about that fucker with his hands on your waist, guiding you on a very slow dance, when it should be him dancing with you, that drove him insane.

He had enough, leaving his spot by the throne in the Court of Nightmares, and grabbing you by the waist, throwing you over his shoulders like you weighed nothing, and compared to his bulky figure you probably didn’t.

“Never, ever again, let those filthy males touch you.” He yelled in your face, he had you on the tips of your toes, caged against his strong arms and a wall, his eyes looking at you up and down. “You’re mine.”

You knew he was angry at the male and not at you, but you were on the receiving end of his anger, but instead of sadness, lust coated your thoughts as they wandered to what he would do with all that anger in bed.

“Please fuck me.” You blurted, he looked at you with a smirk.

“As you wish, princess.” He said riding your skirt up and squeezing your ass, giving you a pull until you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Cassian fucked you harshly against the wall, sucking on the skin of your neck and marking you so no one would ever be bold enough to touch you again.

Azriel:

A whole day gone, he hasn't heard from you for 12 hours. To say he was angry was a light way to put things. He was simmering with rage.

And there you sat, cunt throbbing, clenching around nothing as he yells at you, the angrier he gets, the vein on his neck popping and his face getting redder, the wetter you get.

He’s so lost in his mind that he almost didn’t notice the little whimper you let out as you pressed your thighs against one another for some kind of relief.

Almost is the key word, as your sweet intoxicating scent hits his nostrils and he’s a starved man, stopping mid sentence to feel that scent, his favourite fragrance in the world.

“You’re turned on?” Sarcasm drips from his tone, he stalks closer to you pulling you up by the wrists in a swift motion. “Let’s see if you take me seriously after this.”

He sits down, pulling you on his lap, ass in the air, he slowly drags your clothes down, the cold air in the room hitting your exposed cunt.

“Just 5 slaps, and you have to count.” He warns before he descends his palm on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint of his hand and you a whimpering mess begging for more.

Lucien:

It was hard for Lucien to get angry, or even snap at you. He was just the sweetest male ever and would treat you like a queen.

You however craved something more, you wanted to ignite that fire in his veins, let it burn you and consume you whole.

Lucien reached his boiling point when he saw you bathing your eyelashes to another guy, he saw red, before gently grabbing you by the arm and pulling you with him.

You could already feel the mess in your pants by that gesture alone, but when he sat you in bed, yelling at you for letting that guy even near you, you lost all control.

Lucien took a deep breath, the fresh air mixed with your arousal awakened that fire in him, making him go to you, holding your face in between his hands.

“It was on purpose, wasn’t it?” He demanded, you didn’t trust your voice and just shook your head like the good girl you were.

“Then darling, you’ll have what you wished for.” He says, ripping the buttons of your dress open and pulling a breast to his mouth.

Eris

The day had been stressing as fuck, meetings and more meetings and more meetings, arrogant lords trying to get in between things that didn’t concerned them.

Eris felt the anger boiling to a point he couldn’t barely keep it together anymore, so he decided to call it a day and go to your shared room.

There you are, the tiniest nightgown ever, books and papers scattered around in bed, he just wanted to lay down and relax. He didn’t register his words and he regretted them as soon as they left his mouth.

“Can’t you be organised for once?” He had yelled, you looked at him, and that gaze burned your whole body, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your pussy. You didn’t even know why this turned you on, but his heavy breathing and the way he was looking at you had to be the hottest thing ever.

“I’m sorry my love.” He said in a rush, kneeling in front of you, trying hard not to look from the exposed skin of your cleavage, where your breasts spilled from their thin confinement.

“Can you talk to me like that again, while you fuck me dumb?” He took in her hungry gaze and with a hand around her throat, pulling her in for a heated kiss, he said.

“Whatever my goddess wishes.”

594 notes · View notes

ervotica · 4 months

Note

liam mairi x reader where he literally loses it during the torture chamber over seeing her hurt

pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader

warnings; torture lol, graphic depictions of violence and injury, liam is a little unhinged (as much as a golden retriever can be) and also the best bf ever. also xaddy makes an appearance <3

a/n; for argument's sake, liam is alive and well (also for my sake bc he's my baby and i adore him) this is a little different to the plot in the books as liam isn't *technically* there during the torture chamber scene, so this diverts from the original plot. this is gonna get like 4 whole notes but idgaf because liam is taking up my entire mind atm i just want that boy to smother me in love and i can kiss his perfect face<3

Knuckles crack against the already swollen expanse of your jaw and your neck whips sideways awkwardly as blood fills your gasping mouth. Your ears ring, vision beginning to blur and blacken at the edges as Liam roars.

You can't see him for the soldiers crowding your line of vision, but the guttural sound that rips its way from his throat is unlike anything you've ever heard before. It's raw, full of untethered fury that no one would expect from a kind soul like Liam. But, then again, no one's seen the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.

"I'm fine, Li," you murmur, neck cracking as you wrench your head upright to reassure him. The swarm of bodies part somewhat, and they back against the wall; you watch him thrash against the restraints, teeth bared like a predator; it's a stark juxtaposition to his usual - docile - countenance.

“Touch her again and I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill all of you!” he bellows, voice permeating the otherwise relatively silent chamber. It cuts through you like glass, and you wince as another blow collides with your cheekbone. You feel it shatter, growling through grit teeth at your attacker.

“You have all the power here,” he croons. “Tell us what we need to know, and I’ll let you go.”

��Fuck you,” you seethe. “You really think I’ll break that easily?”

He cracks his knuckles slowly, one by one echoing through the empty room as he paces, his head tilting curiously as though he's enraptured by your resilience. “No. But he will.”

Your nostrils flare, eyes darting to where Liam’s still struggling to break himself free. His eyes are dark, cerulean replaced with black onyx as the rage consumes him.

“You underestimate us,” you say simply; your chin juts out indignantly. “We’re not telling you shit.”

Your ribs are next to break with a sickening crunch, and when you scream, the sharp yell of your boyfriend takes up all the space left in your brain. It's all you hear, all you can decipher through the thick cotton wadded into your ears, the only thing you can manage past the searing flames that set your body alight with agony. Your lids start to droop, lips parting to croak something indiscernible; and Liam's begging, pleading with you to stay conscious, but even as you gaze up at him through sticky, tear-soaked lashes, the darkness wraps its cruel fingers around your throat and you can't fend it off.

You don't know how many days it's been when your eyes peel open, glued shut with sleep. Every nerve ending in your body ignites, set aflame with pure, unrelenting excruciation. Your chest heaves and the movement triggers another cataclysmic inferno; a sob claws its way from your throat almost involuntarily, your body relying purely on survival instincts.

Xaden's standing over you in an instant, a warm palm cradled against the curve of your jaw to keep you still when you shout and thrash, trying to rid yourself of the unyielding pain that courses through your veins like liquid fire.

"Shh, shh." He's doing his best to placate you, but you're manic, eyes wide and frantic as you attempt to orientate yourself in the room.

"Liam," you croak. "Where's Liam?"

"He's okay. He's fine. I need you to stay calm, okay?" A tear slips past your clogged waterline and runs over Xaden's knuckle, his thumb following its downward path to brush it away.

"I want Liam," you wheeze, a pain that transcends physicality blooming into your aching chest. "Please."

There's a scuffle and a flash of blonde before Liam is crouching at your side, a thick fingered hand anchoring against the top of your head.

"I'm right here, my girl. You didn't think I'd leave you alone, did you?"

You shake your head vehemently despite the throbbing in your temples, your own fingers looping around his wrist to keep him close, to keep him touching you.

"It hurts, Li," you whimper, and it's the first sign of true weakness he's seen you expose in this long, painful week. You're safe to fall apart now, safe with the knowledge that he'll help you put yourself back together.

"I know. We just need to get you fixed up and you'll feel better."

He tips forward on his toes to press his cheek to yours, and the warmth of his breath tickles at the shell of your ear. His face turns, nose squishing into the soft flesh of your cheek, lips puckered in a kiss against the corner of your mouth. You feel the scab, long dried over, and the groove in his lip where it's split; when he tilts his head sideways to watch you, your eyes fix on it.

"You're hurt," you sniffle. "It's my fault."

"Oh, this old thing?" He waves you off, flippant as the tip of his finger prods at the dried skin. "Doesn't even hurt, angel. Don't you worry about me."

"I do worry about you."

You use the little strength you have left to turn on your side, tuning out Liam's abrupt protests until there'e enough room for two on the bed. He knows what you want from no more than a pleading glance.

"I can't-" he starts, and the complaints die in his throat when your fingers dig into the worn fabric of his uniform.

"I need you," you admit. His shoulders slouch in defeat.

"You promise to go to sleep?"

He lifts your tender body, propping you against a muscular forearm as he slides beneath you, and settling you between two thick thighs, your back to his chest. His warmth seeps into your pores and he feels you sag, only succumbing to the exhaustion now you know he's safe.

Fingernails scratch at your scalp and dimples crater into the centre of his cheeks when your head tilts to nuzzle deeper into the touch. The flaring pain resides to a dull - but manageable - ache.

"I'm tired," you say, muffled.

"I know, my girl." You don't miss the thrum of his pulse, the way it picks up when he catches sight of the deep bruises that mar your skin, the swelling from broken bones. He's angry.

And he's going to make them pay for this.

396 notes · View notes

dark-and-kawaii · 3 months

Text

Damaged

Rolan x F!Reader/Tav

⋆˙⟡♡ 18+ Dark Content

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request: So could I request some Rolan noncon? Like maybe reader is a human Fem tav who is also under apprentice ship. Rolan is getting abused and he's getting where he needs to take his rustrations out on something and there is sweet little reader always so nice and helpful to him.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I really enjoyed receiving this request and I’m so sorry it took forever to post!!! I hope you’re still here and end up loving it xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Noncon/Dubcom | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Ao3

It was supposed to be just another day for you, organize the books in the tower, test some potions, doing as Lorrokan says. But today, unbeknownst to you, barriers are to be shattered, and boundaries would cease to exist…

Rolan watched as you diligently put away books and tidied up the shelves. The weight of his frustrations bore down upon him, fueled by the abuse he endured from both his and your mentor, Lorroakan. His bruised eyes fixated on you, your innocent demeanor and kind nature serving as a stark contrast to the darkness that began to consume him…

You were much smaller than he, probably weaker too. No, he knew you were weak, the only reason you were even here was simply because Lorroakan liked the way your clothing hugged your hips… And you were so eager to please him, Rolan thought. But that is what made you weak. And Rolan was tired of feeling weak.

As the clock ticked closer to night's embrace, the tower grew eerily quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards from you both staying late. Rolan's mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between the wanting of releasing the anger inside him and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

Unable to resist any longer, Rolan approached you, "Pardon, if you don’t mind. I need your assistance with something," he said, his voice soft yet commanding. His eyes bore into yours, and it did nothing but make you feel uneasy.

"O-oh? Rolan, I- uhm, what is it you need help with?” you stammered, taken back by his sudden close proximity.

"Lorroakan, he's been a bit rough with me lately, and I could really use a healing scroll..." his words filled with deceit unbeknownst to you.

You smiled and nodded, "Oh, of course! There’s plenty of those scrolls to spare! Lorroakan must be training you hard-," and so, you raised your hand to cast the spell, but before you could utter a word, Rolan's hands grabbed a hold of your wrists and pushed you against the bookcase, knocking over stacks of books and parchments.

"Rolan!? What are you-!"

He hovered over you, a crazed look in his eye as he held your arms firmly above your head, "You're so much weaker than I." His knee pushed against your inner thigh, “and yet-“ spreading them apart and giving him room to move closer to you, “he never raises his hands to you.”

"P-please, stop," you begged, but it fell on deaf ears as Rolan ignored your pleas.

"I’m so sick," his hands began to roam over your chest, “So sick of being the outcast-“ squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples through the embroidered fabric, “sick of being the only one he treats this way."

You whimpered and struggled beneath him, trying to get away, but your efforts proved futile, he was so much stronger than you.

"Wh-why only me?!" Rolan’s voice cracked, the dam holding his emotions at bay finally broke. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his body quivering with rage and sorrow, his eyes brimming with tears, "Why only me?!" He began to press himself into you further, his hardened member pressing against your groin…

"You're so much better than I am... You're not broken like me." Rolan whispered, his tears falling and hitting your cheeks. He was shaking now, his breaths came out short and fast. He couldn't control himself anymore, all the years of pent-up frustration came pouring out as his anger and pain fueled his actions.

"I can't take it anymore. I can't. I can't..." He repeated over and over, his grip on you tightening just before he tossed you to the ground with him

"Please, please don't do this," you cried, "I-I don't want this. P-please, Rolan! Y-you’re so much better than he or-“

Rolan pulled your sorceress robe up, exposing your lower half, "Hush!" he growled.

His eyes trailed over your golden laced panties. "Does he see these? Is that why he doesn’t abuse you with his vile hands?"

"Wh- what!?" Your body shook as his hand snaked underneath the delicate fabric, “n’ this- this isn’t like you!”

"Nothing is wrong with me. You just don't understand," his fingers pressed against your clit, slowly rubbing in circular motions. Your body responded involuntarily, betraying you. A small whimper escaping from your lips.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Rolan insisted as he pushed you his fingers inside you, "There's nothing wrong with me." he repeated.

"P-please, Rolan... D-don't-" You gasped as you felt a rush of pleasure. You tried to push him away but the sudden feeling was so overwhelming as he began to curl his sharp talons inside you. Despite it all, the tiefling was careful enough not to damage your insides.

You felt a rush of hot pleasure coursing through you. "S-stop," you breathed. He slipped yet another finger inside, pumping them in and out, curling and uncurling them. Your breath hitched and you moaned, your back arching into his touch. "P-please! Please s-s-top! Ah!"

Your mind was swimming with pleasure, drowning out your common sense. This was wrong! This wasn't like him! Your eyes began to water, unable to comprehend the situation. He was mad, driven to the brink of insanity, and now he was taking it out on you.

Rolan removed his fingers from your slippery pussy, a trail of your fluids clinging to them and a thin string connecting the two.

You were panting your hand covering your flushed face. Tears streaming down your face as you shook. You hear him free himself from his confines and could feel him tear away your panties, the only barrier between his cock and your innocence. His stomach churned, he hated himself for this but he couldn’t stop. His breathing quickened as he pressed himself against your entrance, his hand gripping his cock tightly...

"St-stop… please… Y-you don’t want t-to do this, R-Rolan…” You pleaded again, your voice cracking as tears tainted your visage, but it was no use, his mind was made up.

"I can't. I can't, I can't, I’m so sorry-,” Rolan muttered, his voice barely audible as his cock forced its way into you, stretching you beyond your limits. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered how a tieflings cock would feel, you just didn’t expect it to be so long and girthy… It was even ribbed and had a slight curve to it.

Rolan pulled his cock back until your pussy gripped it tightly by the head, he waited for a second and then put all his weight behind the next thrust. He gripped your throat tightly, forcing your back to arch and pushing his cock as deep as it would go. He didn't wait for you to adjust to him, instead, he began to pound his cock deep into your womb, his balls slapping against your ass.

He grunted and moaned as his body took over, his primal urges controlling him. You screamed and sobbed, clawing at his hand around your throat.

"Ngh! Rolan!!! Plea- ahh! St-stop," you cried, tears streaming down your face.

But Rolan was unrelenting, he fucked you mercilessly, “Gh’ Tell me- Tell me I’m not worthless!” his thrusts gaining in speed as he slammed into you again and again.

He pulled out at an agonizing slow face, making sure you could feel every bump and ridge on his thick cock before pushing back in, hard enough that it knocked the wind out of your lungs

"I-I-, Rolan, ple-pleeaseee- Ahh~" You screams began to twist into reluctant moans as his cock rubbed against your inner walls. Your eyes fluttered open to look at the monster that had you pinned in the tower's library, but what you saw tore at your very being. Rolan's eyes were glazed over, his pupils shrunken as he stared blankly at you, tears fell from his cheeks onto yours as he continued his assault.

"R-Rolan?” You whispered, trying to get his attention, but to no avail. He was gone, his body moving on its own accord, his mind somewhere else entirely. You reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing away his tears, "I-im so sorr- ngh’!”

Rolan grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms up above your head, his grip tight enough to leave marks.

"Don't touch me!" he spat, "I'm not worth any pity."

Your mind raced with all the possible things you could say, but what came out was a choked sob. He had endured so much… You only wish you knew sooner… Wrapping your legs around him, you brought his body closer to yours…

Rolan's body shuddered, his breathing labored as his cock twitched inside you, "I-I'm so close- I'm so close, please," his thrusts becoming erratic as his cock plunged into you.

Your mind began to focus on the pleasure that crept upon you, your eyes tightly shutting as you came, squirting on his cock, the tiniest puddle pooling beneath you...

"N-not inside!” You tried to wiggle free from him, but his weight pinned you to the ground, his nails digging into your skin.

But it was too late, the moment your eyes locked with his, the floodgates opened and your womb was filled with his seed. His hips stilled and his cock pulsed with each new burst. Your body convulsed with pleasure as his cock emptied inside of you. You hated yourself for cumming, hated that he was the one to bring you to your climax like this, hated that he made you feel this way in this moment… But a twisted part of you was glad it was you who was the one…

Rolan was kind, gentle, even considerate at times… You felt guilty that you sowed Lorroakan to corrupt and break such a soul…

“Oh Gods," he groaned, his voice thick with shame.

Rolan's hands stayed firm on you, his body pressing into you as his head rested on your shoulder, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed as his tears soaked your shirt.

"I-I'm sorry, (y/n)," he whimpered, "I am so sorry."

His words stung, and yet despite what transpired, your arms reached up to wrap around him, pulling him even closer.

"Shh, Rolan, please- just, just stop."

Rolan's eyes went wide and his body tensed up, his arms and legs trembling. "Oh Gods, what have I done?”

"You’re not worthless, I promise…” You whispered.

The tower was silent once more, the only sounds that could be heard were Rolan’s sobs. His tears running down your neck, his cock still buried inside you…

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 smut #rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan smut #tw dark content #tw noncon

245 notes · View notes

priestessame · 11 days

Text

... ˜”*°•Jealous S/Os Drabbles (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ...

... ˜”*°• Minors DNI˜”*°• ... ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ "𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖜𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘" ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

... •Gender neutral reader- sub reader

˜”*°•Jealous partners that love you so much it hurts. Jealous partners that absolutely hate seeing you with anyone else. Those who will clench their fists until the nails draw blood just seeing you smile at someone.

Sure its a little problematic, but its all because they love you so much. They tip toe the line of showing that jealousy to you. Other than a few pouts that make you laugh, they won't let you catch even a whiff of how they truly seethe inside.

˜”*°•Jealous partners that would never blame you for how they are feeling. They know you're always perfect, fiercely loyal, and doting to a fault. But they also know it's your kindness and sympathy that gets mistaken for flirting. You could be just going around doing what you do, smiling harmlessly at a waiter or a cashier. And it's only them that notices the person's face falter. Eyes glazing as if they had looked directly into the sun.

What's infuriating is that you don't see how they look at you. You only ever see a friend making you laugh or a stranger being kind. Palpable. They can taste the jealousy curling in their stomach, crawling up their throat until they can feel it in their mouth. It's bitter and resentful, numbing their tongue like medicine.

˜”*°•Jealous partners that would grin like wolves, before lacing an arm around your shoulder, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching how the other person's face darkens with realisation.

You belong to them, body, soul and mind. And no matter how many times they claim you, it'll never be enough.

Most of the time they try to handle the stares. You see, mostly it's the low-lives giving you looks of pure desire, wondering what you would look like under them. Those can be dealt with easily.

But sometimes the gaze is different, it's always a gut-wrenching realization, for they can recognize it. It's a gaze that goes deeper than just lust. it's how they have looked at you all their life. That's the one that really fucks with them. Rage and fear washing over them like a tide.

They just have to feel you in that moment, pressed themselves up against you until they can feel you heart hammer against their skin. With every passing second, their poised self continues to slip. They need you to show them how much you really crave them. So they'll do it. Even if its means pulling you in a corner, secluded yet public and needing to slide their fingers in you pants to feel how aroused you are.

They want you to feel as consumed by them as they feel about you. Can't you see how pathetic you make them feel? So quick to anger and envy. They want you ruined, to bury so deeply into you that you can feel them mark you forever.

Jealous partners that won't let you go until their teeth leave marks down your bare skin. Playlus nips at your neck as they overwhelm you with the pleasure. Its hard and rough as they take you right then and there, basically beckoning someone to catch you two. So the idiots can watch how easily you come undone under them, your pleasure building your pleasure until you can't help but scream their name. Maybe then, that will ease their jealousy.

"Who do you belong to?" They'd whisper, voice like silk, like they aren't holding you down, fisting your hair. That's the only time you realise someone pissed them off, it's feeling the hunger and need radiating off of them. The touch so starving, that their fingers seem to carve you out.

Yes they a little out of hand, but you don't mind, do you?

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

ARLECCHINO, Childe, Wanderer, Geto, Sukuna, Gojo, MIHAWK, Sunday,

໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა Buy me a coffee?

#genshin imagines #genshin smut #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #jjk imagines #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #getou smut #suguru geto #gojo satoru #wanderer x reader #mihawk x y/n #sunday x reader

181 notes · View notes

lovelywritinglady · 3 months

Note

fem! muzan with androphobic reader? (fear of men) It was, at first, an arranged marriage done by her father who doesn't care nor console this phobia so they force reader into it to try and 'make her better' (even though the father is who made such a fear manifest) obviously, he would uh, deal with the father and console reader as fem, you know? i want angst & fluff pls

Women Do It Better

Fem!Muzan x fem!reader

Angst, readers father is abusive, mentions of death, blood, gore. Some fluff and Female Muzan. It's hinted at that reader was sexually assaulted. I added a little more angst than what was originally requested. Triggering topics-mentions of SA and use of slut and other hurtful words. Muzan is out of character.

"Please father don't make me do this! I will do anything else, but please do not make me marry him." You pleated with your father even though deep down you knew he wouldn't listen.

"Shut your mouth you dammed brat. You will do as I say and I will not entertain your hysterics!" He spat grabbing your left wrist so tightly that you were sure that it would bruise.

"No!" You screamed trying to shake your wrist free and grabbing on your fathers hand trying to push it off.

"You stupid worthless bitch!" your father screamed in a raging fury as he slapped you with the back of his hand. You then landed on the ground with loud thump as your cheek stung and tears were streaming down your face. "You will marry this man as he is the only man that has ever given the slightest interest in you. Your body has been tainted ever since you let that boy have his way with you. You're disgusting and I have no idea why this man wants filth like you in the first place." He told you without an ounce of care for what that "boy" did to you in the past. Even though the boy in question was a close friend of his and when you told your father he called you a liar and a slut. He then told everyone that it was the servant boy that he had hired and that you were the one who seduced him. You knew that your father never loved you, but that was the moment you really knew he couldn't give a shit about you. Your fear of men steamed from that and the fact that your father is a terrifying man who has no heart whatsoever.

The next day...

You stood next to your father at the most most beautiful house you had ever seen. It was dark out but the house was well lit. You had a small smile on your face looking at it and the beautiful garden that was out front. You noticed all kinds of flowers that you had never seen before planted and you wondered where they came from. Your smile faltered as soon as reality sunk back in. You looked at your father that had a bored expression on his old and wrinkly face. Your life was about to drastically change and he couldn't care less, not like you were surprised.

"Damn bastard making us wait outside in this damn heat." You heard your father grumble quietly as he crossed his arms.

Just as your father grew impatient, the doors to the magnificent house opened and revelied a man with short curly hair and a hard to lead expression on his face. You got chills looking at him and fear consumed your body as you shook slightly. You father took notice of this and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your injured writs making you finch slightly as you both made your way into the house. As you entered you noticed the smell of baked goods. A delightful smell that reminded you of when your mother was still alive. You felt comforted and your anxiety went down a little.

You and your father followed him into a large living room with a roaring fire that warmed the entire space. You both then sat down on a rather comfortable maroon colored couch as he sat across from you on a large arm chair that resembled his fiery red eyes. There was a gold table in front of you. The space a round you consisted of beautiful paintings of scenes that you had never seen painted before. The walls were a deep red with gold accents on the trim. The flooring was chestnut wood that looked as though it had just been polished. A fire place adorned the space as ebony in color. You were in awe of the space, but you could feel your fathers gaze upon you, so you stopped noticing and kept your head down.

For a little while no one spoke a word. Your father looked at the space with jealousy as this type of living would never be his reality even after the money he would receive after essentially selling you to this strange man. Just then, a thin woman who looked rather sickly entered the room carrying a tray of the baked goods from earlier as well as tea for the three of you. She placed the tray down turning to the man with the fiery red eyes and bowed deeply, slightly shaking as she did so. She then left without making a sound and the whole situation made you shake just like that woman. Silence still consumed the space until your father got aggraviated and spoke in his booming voice.

"So are we gonna get this buissness over with? I've got better things to do than to stick around this brat any longer." He said in a gruff tone as he stared directly at the strange man.

"Yes, I suppose you would have nothing to do." The man responded.

"Whatever." Your father huffed cleary annoyed

"I am Muzan Kibutsuji, I am to be your husband." Muzan spoke, ignoring your father.

"I'm y/n l/n, It's nice to meet you sir. You have a lovely home." You complimented him doing your best to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you, I hope its to your liking as this is where you will be living." He told you, giving you a small smile.

"Thank you sir." You spoke softly

"Now on to important business. I have the documents here to for you to sign Ms. L/n, and I have already signed myself." Muzan declared handing over the documents to you.

You took the documents, placing them neatly in front of you. Taking the capped pen in your dominamt hand you held the pen on the line. Your hand was shaking as your uneven breaths didn't go unnoticed by your father and Muzan. Your father scowled at you as he leaned in pinching your side making you yelp quietly.

"Sign the damn paper girl." He snapped quietly letting go of your side. This terrified you, and you ended up writing out your name in sloppy letters. You then quickly capped the pen and put it on to op the documents. Your father sighed sharply, snatching the papers off the table giving them a scan. "Even your handwriting is shitty." He commented scoffing as he handed the papers back to Muzan. Your father grew impatient as he tapped his foot rather loudly. "Alright Mr. Kibutsuji, I'll be leaving her with you now. I trust the money has been sent to my house." You father rudely spoke as he stood up and began leaving.

"Yes, the money should be at your residence now." Muzan responded as his gaze never left yours. It was almost as though your father was an afterthought and you were the main attraction.

"Good." your father said back walking out the enormous door until his figure was not seen nor his footprints heard.

You contuniued to sit in your place as the fire was startuing to go out and the moon hit its peak as it shone throughout the room. You felt as though time itself was scared to move. Muzan kept his bleeding red eyes you. You couldn't help but stare back at him. You were terrified of the opposite sex, however, this man here seemed gentle, almost kind. Even still, he terrified you and you were scared that he would treat you the same as your father did. The silence ended as Muzan asked you an interesting question.

"What are you scared of?" He questioned suddenly leaning in as he asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but what do you mean?" You asked him not understaing why he would ask you such a strange question.

"It's a simple question, Y/n. What are you scared of?" He asked once more. With a flash he wa ssuddelnly in front of you.

"How did you do that?" You asked with slight apprehension in your voice.

"Answer the question y/n." He demanded in a soft voice as to not scare you.

"I.." I paused staring into his beautiful eyes. "I'm scared of my father and any man.." You told him now terrified that you just told him the very thing he can use against you.

"Thank you, close your eyes and do not be alarmed." He told you and for some reason you did just as he told you. However, tears left you eyes as you closed them. You them felt a cold but soft hand wipe them away. You felt soothed slightly but your heart was pounding heavily.

"Now, y/n, open your eyes." He spoke and once again you did. To your absolute shock, he was now a woman? Muzan had graceful hair and his face was angelic. She wore a traditional kimono with jewels and ribbons adorning his garments. You began crying simply because Muzan was the most beautiful thing you had ever witnessed.

"You're crying, why is that. Aren't you less afraid of me now that I'm in this form?" Muzan spoke as the depth of his voice remained unchanged. However, she sounded as though she was offended.

"No, I'm not scared, but how did you do that?" you reassured as a bright smile appeared on your face for the first time in many years.

"I am a demon and can change my form to whatever I like." Muzan spoke.

"My mother told me about demons and how they eat people. She told me that some of them are beautiful, but that some of them are horrible. How the sun can kill them and how strong and dangerous they can be." You told Muzan not realizing that you might have spoken out of turn.

"Yes, demons are beautiful and I am the strongest among them. We do in fact consume humans and the more we consume, the stronger we are." She told you as you continued to trace every detail of his meazmurizing face. The fear you thought you should have never appeared as you felt as though you had been around demons all of your life. She seemed to notice that you weren't scared.

"Aren't you scared that I might eat you?" Muzan questioned

"I'd prefer not to but if you were to, there would be nothing I could do." You told her honestly as the power gap between you to is unimaginable.

"You're quite right I could." Muzan commented as she flared her piercing fuchsia red eyes. "However, I would never eat one so precious." she added which shocked you to say the least.

You were so distracted by her and her strange words, that the most important question seemed to pop in your head only now. "So why did you want to marry me? My father told me that it was you requested to marry me and offered to pay for my hand in marriage." You asked him now realizing the importance of the question you had just asked.

"Your blood of course. It has rare and quite special indeed, not many humans have it. Which means you are a unique and rare creature indeed and someone I need by my side at all times." She told you looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, even though you couldn't recognize the look at all.

"I didn't even know my blood could have ever been important." You said, mostly to yourself.

"What is it you want most in the world?" He asked you

"To be happy." You responded honestly

"What would make you happy then?" She continued. You took a bit of time to think as you had never thought about how to be happy. You knew that there were many things you wanted to do, but you decided to tell her the first thing that popped in your mind.

"I never want to see my father again." You told her hoping that maybe just maybe she could make that happen.

"As you wish." She responded rather simply and you felt like a bag of rocks was lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a breathe of relief and could tell that Muzan was someone of their word as you had been around numerous men that weren't.

"Thank you." You whispered to her

"I will call the maid to take you to your room. I trust you might be comfortable having your own space. In the meantime there is buissness that I must address." Muzan spoke and as soon as she did she was gone.

A few moments later, the same maid that you saw earlier made her way in. Her quiet nature remained unchanged as did her facial expressions. She quietly gestured for you to follow her, and so you did giving her a smile of gratitude as you did. Your new room wasn't too far from the living room. However, this room was a tiny bit smaller and had a fireplace of its own placed on the very center of the room. There were two large windows on both sides of it adorned with maroon colored drapes. The windows themselves had a sort of black tint on them and you assumed that it was because of the danger of the sun. The bed lay to the right of the fire place and you swore it was the biggest bed you had ever seen. The bed sheets were also red and you could tell they were velvet. There were many tapestries that hung in the walls that depicted all kind of different scenes. Mostly containing images of demons. However, some of them contained botanical scenes that fluttered your heart a little because of their unique beauty.

"Did Mr. Kibutsuji decorate this room?" You asked the maid as she stood in the doorway.

"Yes miss, he has particular taste but your room is yours and the master has told me that you may decorate as you like." She spoke in a soft voice. "Thank you, may I ask your name?" You asked her as you deemed it rude that you only call her maid. "Yes miss, it's Ms. Fujimita, but you may call me whatever you feel fit to." Ms. Fujimita told you.

"Wonderful, thank you. I think I might sleep now." You told her as you could feel the tiredness start to consume your body.

"Yes miss, goodnight." She spoke closing the doors as she left.

The closets that were located to the left of your bed opened up and it felt like you had two rooms. The space was massive and rows and rows of clothes were occupying the space. You remember your father telling you that you didn't need to pack anything and you just assumed that you would be wearing the same clothes over and over again. How wrong you were. You wanted nothing more than to browse, but your eyes betrayed you. You then saw some sleep clothes that looked comfortable and quickly took your clothes off and put them on.

You leaped into the bed letting your body mold with the mattress. Soon enough you fell into a deep slumber listening to the sounds of the fireplace crackling. Suddenly, you felt the bed shift and your body jolted up. A scream left you and you scrambled further up the bed trying to get away from the figure that dared to sit on you bed. You heard the faint sound of shushing and a voice telling you to calm yourself. You were confused and quite sleepy to fully make out the voice. However, you noticed the figures eyes and knew exactly who the "person" was.

"Hush now y/n and have no fear. You will be happy here now I promise you." Muzan spoke in a comfortable whisper.

"Why, what's happen." you asked frantically still calming down from your panic. Muzan then, out of the blue, lit the oil lamp to the side of the bed. You were then able to see the the full beaiutiful appearence of Muzan. She was still in the female form, however, she was covered in blood but that did not take away the ethereal beauity of her. Still, a chill ran down your spine at the sight of the blood.

Muzan noticed your fear and quickly vanished with a flash. You were stunned to say the least, but it was short lived as she returned only now without the blood covering her body. You felt more comfort by this, but you couldn't hep but wonder whose blood it belonged to and a wave of sadness washed over your figure.

"Whose blood was on your clothes?' You asked hesitantly, however you needed to know. You put on a confident face, doing your best not to seem anxious. You noticed a slight change in Muzan's eyes and you couldn't pin point what it was.

"The blood belongs to someone who has caused you great suffering." Muzan simply said as she moved closer to you. Your heart beat fast as you already knew who it was. Your emotions were all over, but the one emotion that stood out was pure happiness. The thought of your father being dead delighted you and that terrified you. You thought to yourself, "Why am I so happy about this? Why am I okay with feeling this way?" You darting back in forth between your own morals to the point you thought you might go insane. Muzan, nit being the best at human emotion, decided that it would be best to simply hug you, hoping that this would ease your distress, and so he did.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You stiffed in the hug but melted as soon as you smelled the luscious scent of honey and jasmine. You then held her tightly breathing in her comforting scent. To you, it felt like it was an eternity of a hug and to Muzan she didn't seem to mind that you held her like this. She then broke the hug and took your face in her hands. She looked you in your now watery eyes giving your face a small stroke as she spoke.

"You are mine and now you shall be happy that your beast of a father is gone." She told you in an almost happy tone

"Thank you." You whispered still feeling slightly guilty for being happy that your father is dead. Although for most of your life that's all you wanted.

"I'm your husband, so it is only natural that a husband wants to see their wife happy." Muzan spoke honestly

"If you are my husband, then why have you decided to appear as a woman?" You asked feeling uncomfortable at the thought of Muzan being your husband but no problem with her currant appearence.

"Its simply because I know it makes you tolorate me. You may call me your wife it would make you tolorate me more." Muzan spoke taking her hands off of your face and placed them in her lap.

"Thank you, I'd like that. I don't just want to tolorate you, I want to like you considering we will be married." You mumbled slightly nervous that you just made her uncomfortable.

"Good, now get some sleep." She whispered gestering you to get comfortable again. Just as you were about to say it back she was gone. You smiled getting comfortable in your bed once again and feeling genuenily happy for the first time in years.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic!💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog!

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

L.W.L

207 notes · View notes

sweet-creature101 · 1 year

Text

Kiwi

Summary: Harry recently started his solo carrier and Sarah recommmeds y/n as his lead guitarist. Harry finds himself intimidated by y/n and y/n could not care less.

famous!harry ; an enemies to lovers trope

part two

warnings: mention of alcohol. Swearing. Suggestive language and sexual tension.

“Come on Harry trust me on this. It won’t go downhill. She’s really good.” Sarah pleaded her case for the tenth time since the past one hour. Harry was certain she would talk his ear off.

“What was her name again?” Mitch asked Sarah.

“Y/n.”

“Sarah, I don’t know about this. I’ve known you all since a long time and it’s easy to work with you.” Harry said, slightly skeptical about a new addition to his team.

Harry knew who you were, a very successful songwriter and one hell of a guitar player. He knew you worked with bands like 5sos, 21 Pilots and even wrote a few songs on Taylor’s swifts album, Reputation. He saw you at a concert once and immediately fell in love with the way your presence consumed the concert wholly. No one cared about who was singing because everyone’s eyes were fixated on the young seductress clad in black leather and playing her instrument as if her life depended on it.

“You can only grow if you’re out of your comfort zone.” Sarah firmly stated, crossing her arms over her chest huffing out a breath.

Harry thought about it for a good minute. He needed someone with experience and you seemed to have it. You knew how to write and what to write. Perhaps a little experiment wouldn’t be so bad.

“Okay. I’m trusting your judgement on this.” Harry said nodding.

“Great because y/n’s in the elevator right now.” Sarah said giggling slightly. “Thank God you didn’t say no. Would’ve been a difficult conversation.” She mumbled, relived at how the situation panned out.

The apartment bell rang and Sarah jumped out of her seat startling Mitch who was sitting next to her. She took long strides towards the door.

“Y/n! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages! You look wonderful!” Sarah said hugging you. You smiled and hugged her back, glad to meet her once again after what seemed like a century.

“Thank you. How’ve you been?” You asked her, not bothering to take note of the two men who seemed to scrutinise your interaction with quite a lot of concentration.

“Same ol’ same ol” Sarah chuckled as she let you in.

“Harry, Mitch meet y/n.” Sarah introduced you to them. You found yourself in an awkward postion so you simply gave a wave and a loose smile.

If Harry was a ball of sunshine then you were a raging hurricane. The two of you were polar opposites. Harry radiated warmth and seemed to be the kind of person whom other people could talk to. Meanwhile you on the other hand were someone who kept to themselves.

Harry couldn’t help but notice your sweeping eyeliner. He observed it quite attentively, how it was winged at the edge of your eye and in the inner corner as well in a feline manner. You wore low waisted jeans with a fitted graphic black tee shirt that ended just below your navel, showing a silver of skin.

“So y/n, what’s your work like?” Mitch asked you.

“I write mainly rock but I’m open to new suggestions.” You said. Sarah nodded as if to say ‘awesome.’

Your voice was firm and authoritative as you answered the question. Harry found himself completly entranced by this complexity of a person that stood in front of him. He figured it out the minute you walked into the room with your head held high that working with you wouldn’t be easy.

“Do you have any questions Harry?” Sarah asked him. Harry only nodded no.

“Great. Im going out for a smoke.” You said leaving the three of them alone again.

“She’s scary.” Harry said once the door shut. Sarah rolled her eyes in response. “She’s a no nonsense person Harry.”

“And scary.” He added again.

“I know you’re not used to people like her. Just because you’re both literal opposites doesn’t mean she’ll eat you alive.” Sarah snorted. “You like her, don’t you Mitch?” Sarah asked him. Mitch only swallowed and replied, “I like her better on stage.”

“Oh hush both of you. Give her time.”

——————————————

“It doesn’t sound good.” Harry huffed out impatiently, staring at the lyrics he scribbled. It had been more than a week since everyone started to work on his debut album.

Harry began to habour a certain disliking for you, owing to lack of your participation and one word answers. You would sit away from everyone, scribble in your diary and would rarely look up from its pages.

“You know what guys, let’s just take a breather yeah?” Jeff, Harry’s manager said getting up from his chair and stretching his legs.

“I’m going out for a walk.” Sarah said, pulling Mitch to his feet as well. Harry was about to get up as well but Sarah mouthed to him; ‘talk to her’ as she gestured towards you. Harry looked at her with wide eyes and was ready to protest but Sarah was quick on her feet.

“Y/n.” Harry called out your name. You looked up at him, the loose strands strands of your braid fell down framing your face. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘speak on.’

Harry cleared his throat. “What are you writing?”

“Nothing much. Just an idea.” You said. That was the most you had spoken.

Harry noticed that today, there was no eyeliner but smudged kohl lining your eyes. You opted for a plain white tank top and a pair of mini cargo shorts. A surprise for Harry who was much too used to seeing you in black.

“I think, everyone would appreciate it if you would participate more you know?” Harry said. You only nodded and went back to scribbling.

“See! This is what you do y/n. You don’t talk. You’re so busy doing God knows what. I get it, you know you’re talented but that doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Harry exploded. You shut your dairy hard and stared at him with rage.

“It’s been almost two weeks since you joined us. Have you contributed in any way?” Harry added, his voice reaching a higher octave and getting louder by the second.

“First of all, I don’t think I’m fucking better than you and second of all, instead of blaming me why don’t you recognise the fact that you’re scared and absolutely clueless.” You spat at him.

“I’m not scared.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “You’re so scared that you’re putting the blame on me just because I’m the newbie. This solo carrier is new to you and that terrifies the shit out of you Harry. So much that you can’t even work. If I have to be the punching bag then I’m fucking leaving.” You stated grabbing your bag.

“You don’t know shit y/n.”

You didnt care about what Harry said next as you walked out of the room.

—————————————————

“Was it really necessary Harry?” Jeff said, rubbing his head with his hands. The stress of not having completed the album began to increase.

“I told you, ‘give her some time.’ Did you do that Harry? No. You just had to say something.” Sarah said, flinging her arms in the air.

“I mean, was Harry wrong though? Y/n was… just there you know. She didn’t talk, she didn’t help. Good riddance I say.” Mitch said.

The whole group was torn up over this. Harry began to feel guilt overpower him, but the rage he felt at your words was far too much for him to hone. He knew you were right and he hated you for that. He hated you for the fact that you were so good at reading him. Harry knew that you didn’t talk because you were shy but because you never found yourself as engaged as the others. You were aloof, and gave the impression that nothing bothered you at all.

“It’s been what; six days since she stormed off?” Jeff asked harry.

“Seven.”

“Jesus.”

Harry was certain that you overreacted to the situation. Granted, you didn’t want to be here and Harry left no stone unturned when it came to reminding you his dislike for you.

The door bell rang, Harry got up to look through the key hole. He felt the colour drain from his face. It was you. Standing in front of the door.

“It’s her.” Harry whispered with his eyes wide.

“You know I can hear you, ya dick. Open the door or I’m leaving.” You, irritation lacing your face.

You began to hate Harry or at least develop an aggressive aversion towards him as time passed. You hated how he seemed to have enough energy throughout the day to burst into a song. You hated that he was all smiles and giggles every second of the day. The only one thing you liked about him was how intimadated he was by you. But you knew that he could be much more terrifying than you when the time came.

“Pick your poison.” Mitch said.

Harry opened the door to meet your black smudged eyes. You push him as you enter the room and slam the diary on the centre table with a loud thud.

“Here you go. You said Im no help at all. Well I beg to differ. I’ve written three songs.” You said. Harry picked up the diary and flipped through the pages.

Kiwi

Medicine

Only angel

Strange names for such explicit songs.

Harry passed the diary to Sarah who looked at the songs with amazement.

“Harry we’ve got to add these.” Sarah said, excitement lacing her eyes.

“I don’t need anyone to plead my case. If he likes them, good enough.” You said, your voice unwavering as you looked at Harry who narrowed his eyes at you.

“I like them.”

—————————————

Within a week, all recordings were done and the album was ready to launch. Jeff suggested that the four of you should to go out, let off some steam because life would never be the same once the album got released.

Everyone was quite surprised when you suggested a place to party. You were quite intent on getting shit faced because the past month had been a whirlwind to say the least.

You wore a black mini dress, encased with sequins that was backless. Your eyes were lined with heavy kohl and mascara. Your whole face was bare other than your eyes.

“Johnnieeeee!” You exclaim to the large bouncer, a smile on your face as you high five him.

“Y/n been a long time. I see you’ve got friends.” He said, eyeing the people behind you.

Sarah felt that the club you brought them to too was far too dark and dingy for her liking. It was dark and the music was blaring. The club smelt of sex, drugs and alcohol. Your natural habitat. She held Mitchs hand in hers who was amused at her behaviour.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes and a sly smile. John chuckled and let you in the club.

“We have go to do shots.” You exclaim to all three of them. Harry was surprised at your behaviour to say the least, he never would’ve pegged you as someone who even had the ability to smile let alone laugh.

“Nope. I’m driving.” Sarah said throwing her hands up in the air.

“Jeez such a buzzkill.” You said making Sarah roll her eyes. You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the bar with Harry and Mitch.

“Don’t stop till your at least ten shots down.” You said with a cunning smile and excited eyes.

“Ten?!” Mitch exclaimed.

“Six.” Harry interjected.

“Deal.”

Harry learnt a great deal about that night. Especially the fact that you have a tendency to dance with almost anyone and everyone.

He saw you make your way to the dancefloor, not bothered about the fact that you had no one to dance with. You swayed your hips to the song, your arms moving and a bright smile etched on your face. You were surrounded by men and women. Harry saw you dance with a man whom you didn’t know, he wished you would be that carefree with him.

After an hour of drinking and talking, Harry found you dancing on the table with a few other people.

“Is this normal?” He asked Sarah who snickered in response. “Yep. She’s a fun drunk.”

You spot Harry and get down from the table, stumbling forward. The strap of your heel loosened and Harry quickly caught hold of you.

“Wait a second.” Harry said, as he kneeled down to fix your strap. Once he got up he saw your glassy eyes laiden with lust and simply smirked.

“You like watching me get down on my knees for you, huh?” Harry whispered in your ear, his grip harsh around your waist as he pulled you towards himself . You felt heat rise up your thighs and stomach.

“Isn’t that what men are good for anways?” You whispered, closing any gap you two had as you put one hand behind his neck, tugging him closer to you. “Don’t think this changes anything betwen us Styles. You’re still a nightmare.” You whispered to him in his ear slowly.

You stood so close to each other that you could feel each others heat radiate. Harry’s heart raced as his eyes met yours. You were cautious with your gaze, afraid that if you looked any longer in his eyes, he might spot the hunger in yours just as you might see his making you lose any self control you exercised.

“I have someone waiting for me.” You spoke, breaking the silence. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement as his hands wandered down your waist to your lower back. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he left a bite there. You let out a soft moan, turning into complete putty in his grip.

“I could fuck you much better y/n.” He said, his voice dangerously low.

“I don’t want to be fucked missionary style that’ll leave me unsatisfied.”

“Your moan said otherwise.”

Two can play this game.

You wiggled out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you sauntered towards the dance floor, blowing a kiss at Harry from a distance.

——————————————

“Hello?” Your groggy voice spoke into the microphone of your phone. Your head throbbing due to last night.

“Y/n. Where are you?” Jeff asked you.

“Home.”

“Come over to Harry’s. Got something to discuss.”

“I’ll be there in five.” You said before hanging up on the phone.

You washed your face, put on a large tee shirt and an oversized pair of sunglasses. You brushed your hair and slipped into your slippers. It was a ten minute drive to Harry’s house. The radio was silent. The windows were rolled down because you needed fresh air now more than ever.

You reached his flat and rang the doorbell.

“My my look who’s here.” Harry taunted as he opened the door to see you in an oversized tee shirt, legs bare and slippers. He couldn’t control all the thoughts that seemed to slip in and out his head as he saw your legs.

“Show me your eyes love.” Harry snickered knowing they must be bloodshot. You flipped him off and plopped down on the bean bag, groaning as you held your head.

“You seemed to have a lot of fun last night.” Mitch said, getting a stare from Sarah. “You should see the videos.” He added. Your head shot up at his words.

“Videos?”

“Yep. They’re too good.” He snickered. You removed your sunglasses and pounced at Harry who began to play videos of you dancing on table tops.

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Phone.” You said in between breathes as you attempted to strangle Harry. You were about to smack Harry but he picked you up by your waist, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Put me down.” You stated firmly.

“Only if you don’t strangle me.” Harry said chuckling at your sorry state.

“I don’t make promises Styles.”

“Too bad. I’ll post it if you continue to be a brat.” He said.

“Fine.”

Harry put you down, running a hand through your messy hair which you swatted off. He noticed how young you looked without lining your eyes, a different girl, perhaps even innocent. You looked like a doe. You looked beautiful.

“You’re drolling on the carpet Styles.” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?” He questioned, his voice low and alluring. He spoke slow enough to make your thighs quiver. Your mind suddenly flashed you images of how his large hand felt against your waist last night.

“I’m too hungover for this.” The only defense left.

This was new to you. This feeling of loathing someone to no extent but also finding them undeniably attractive. Attractive enough to make your thoughts wander off to forbidden places and scenarios.

“What happened to your neck?” Sarah said, noticing the love bite that Harry left the other night. You rolled your head back as you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Harry felt proud to say the least, he smirked and winked at you while you barely controlled the urge to smash his face in the table neck to him.

“Why am I even here?” You said groaning. “The work is done. The albums done. What do you possibly need for me now?” You added.

“Come to tour with us.” Jeff said, his manager persona now showing.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t in the contract Jeff.”

“Consider this, an impromptu decision.” He reasoned with you.

“I’ll do only concerts. No interviews. No playing for videos and no recordings.” You said.

“Deal.”

You huffed a breath as you reached for the glass of water next to you. “That’s mine!” Harry whined. You flipped him off as you wore your sunglasses and went to sleep.

“Oh y/n what’s your Instagram?” Jeff asked. You scoffed at his question, “don’t have one.” You simply said. “Well, Harry follows his band members so-”

“No.” and with that you went to sleep.

—————————————

The album was a success to say the least. Everyone seemed to recognise Harry as Harry styles and not as Harry from One Direction. It was bitter sweet to say the least. Harry was excited and enthralled to be able to embark a whole new journey.

The album release party was a success. But you weren’t there, Harry had called you not once but twice asking you why you weren’t there.

“Y/n, it’s already six, why aren’t you at the party?” Harry asked you on call.

“Because I didn’t plan on going.” A short answer. Your one word answers now began to become a bit longer but they annoyed Harry nonetheless.

“The whole band’s here.”

“I’m not part of your band Harry. I helped you write your songs.” You stated.

“But you’re going to tour with us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

And now as Harry stood in front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to pour in, he wondered where you were. You had insisted on driving to the show venue on your own instead of travelling with the band. Harry tried to persuade you but you didn’t budge.

“Is she here?” Harry asked Jeff who only nodded no. Harry was getting worried now. He was supposed to get ready, but he was much to engaged in wondering about your whereabouts. It was his first show and your words about him being scared rang in his head.

“She’ll be here don’t worry.” Jeff said.

By the time Harry got ready, he spotted you, a cigarette in your mouth as you look towards the stage. You wore a latex, dark emerald coloured waistcoat that resembled a corset. It pushed your breasts together and ended just above the curve of your waist. You wore low waisted black bell bottoms. The waistcoat and the bell bottoms gave off the illusion of an hourglass figure. Your eyes were covered in your signature feline eyeliner, curving in the inner and outer corner of your eye.

“Y/n!” Harry called your name. You looked up at him, a lazy smile on your face as you disposed the cigarette.

“My my look at you styles. A fucking prince you are.” You said snickering. Harry stuck his tongue out at you. He wore a red blazer clad with black flowers and the same pattern was all over his trousers. His hair were unruly yet only added to his charm.

“Ya scared?” You asked him.

“No. I mean, I’m just…. excited yet scared you know?”

“Hmm.”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised at you as he scanned you up and down.

“Excuse me for not wanting to dress up as a fucking rainbow.” You said scowling at Harry who passed you a smile. “Y’know what would really go well with your top?” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “What?”

“Wait.” Harry ran off of to his dressing room, fetching a silver cross necklace. The cross was heavy and large, engraved with swirls and very small rubies decorating it. Harry gestured you to turn around, his hands brushed against your skin as he snapped it’s lock in place. The cross rested against the curve of your breasts, demanding attention and praise. “How about a hickey to tie your look together?” Harry questioned.

“From you? Not even in your dreams Styles.” You said. Harry smirked at you and went towards the stage.

—————————————

Harry felt alive. He felt free and invincible on stage. But you, you were the personification of sex. The minute Kiwi began to play, the crowds focus shifted from Harry to you.

You whipped your hair back and forth, your back arching, a cigarette encased in your pink lips, sweat gleaming down the curves of your waist, breasts and arms. The crowd went absolutely wild as you winked at them. Harry’s photographer, Lloyd was entranced with you. He couldn’t help but photograph you. Your eyebrows were sinched together in focus, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open and your body fully arched.

After the first concert, the fans and media were deep diving into who you were and tried to uncover your identity. As the tour progressed, the crowd began to make posters stating things like “we’re here for y/n!” “Give us y/n!”

There were pictures of you everywhere, playing the guitar as your face morphed into an expression which Harry called your “orgasm face.”

Harry was asked about you during interviews as well, the media was left questioning about your identity and they found themselves allured by a recent stunt you pulled at a concert.

You jumped off the stage during Medicine and went up to a man, roughly around your age if not older. The man lit the cigarette in your mouth with his lighter as you winked at him and murmured “thank you love.”

—————————————

The tour had finally ended. You were in your dressing room, your chest heaving up and down. The adrenaline after the show still lingering in your blood stream. You removed your top and were standing in your bra, the minute Harry barged in.

“Knock on my door ya’dick!” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which did nothing at all to ease Harry since your breasts were pushed up.

After months of sexual tension, Harry finally felt himself crack.

“Got to teach you some manners.” You murmured.

“Really?” He tutted, pulling you by the loop of your jeans.

You understood where this was heading. “Hmm.” You hummed, moving your hands slowly on the buttons of his shirt. Harry caught your wrist making you look up at him. He looked in your eyes, deep and seriously as if to contemplate his actions. You pulled him by his neck, close enough that your foreheads touched.

“M’gonna regret this.” He whispered. He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he connected his lips to yours, his tongue swirling in your mouth. His hands wandered down the curve of your spine and lingered there. You deepened the kiss, letting your hunger overpower you. He wasn’t close enough, you needed his skin next to yours, rubbing, you needed to feel him, you needed him.

There was a knock on the door, you immediately recoil away from Harry although his hands were still on your bare back. “Y/n, Vanessa’s here for you.” Laura, his assistant said.

Vanessa and you were supposed to head out to paris the next morning. Harry felt a hole cave in his chest, remembering about your departure.

“I’ll be there.” You said.

You kissed Harry, a sweet and soulful kiss. Not the one that was ruled with consumption and the urge to mark.

“You should stay.” Harry whispered, holding you.

“I never stay anywhere for too long.”

Harry looked at you, his eyes staring into yours as you squeezed his hand. “Who’re you gonna strangle now?” You laughed remembering all the times you tried to strangle and choke him, resting your head on his chest.

“I’ve got to go.” You said, slipping out of his grip, slipping on a tee shirt as you picked up your stuff.

Harry looked at you with a look of longing. How stupid. How cruel. How unfair. He thought to himself as he saw you leave.

“When will I see you again?” He asked you.

“When it’s the right time.” You said, kissing his cheek.

——————————————

Authors note; how are we feeling about a part two? let me know in the comments section <3

#harry's house album #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry styles blog #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #famous!harry #enemies to lovers #harry styles #one direction #harry one direction #harry one shot

1K notes · View notes

whymustyouhurtmeinthisway · 2 months

Text

I know it's all jokes and I'm taking this too seriously, but all those A.B.A. cheating/Paracelsus cuck memes going around on Guilty Gear twitter piss me off a little. Not because they're getting in the way of my ship or anything like that, but because they fundamentally misunderstand A.B.A. and Paracelsus' dynamic to a ridiculous degree

A.B.A.'s unstoppably obsessed with Paracelsus, her soul's consumed by almost nothing but the overwhelming desire to be connected with him at every single waking moment. She'd never even consider "cheating" on him for a second, and even if she did she wouldn't take it even the slightest bit lightly. If she were to ever feel even a hint of attraction to anyone besides Paracelsus, she'd immediately undergo spine-tearing amounts of remorse, inner conflict, rage, doubt, and a thousand other negative emotions towards herself for even thinking about "cheating" on her beloved "husband" for a millisecond. I'm not gonna yell at you for making lighthearted ship art between her and another character or anything, but to me it'd be pretty out of character for her to just casually love someone else without massive inner torment before, during, and after the fact.

All the Paracelsus cuck jokes don't work at all because Paracelsus would be nothing but overjoyed if A.B.A. were to move on from him and find someone who actually loves her back. To be a cuck you gotta be feel a) distraught that your significant other's cheating on you, and b) turned on by it despite the circumstances, and Paracelsus fits neither of those by a long shot. Though he respects and cares for A.B.A. as a friend, he feels absolutely no romantic or sexual attraction towards her, and wants more than anything for her to not be in love with him. 100% of the "marriage" stuff between him and A.B.A. was done entirely without his consent, he takes every opportunity to remind people that he's not actually A.B.A.'s husband and doesn't love her the way she does, and the only reason he sticks with A.B.A. at all is because he's literally incapable of moving on his own to get away (and also because she'd be devastated were he to leave and he's too nice to put her through that).

In conclusion, Paracelsus would be extremely happy if A.B.A. were to ever "cheat" on him, not because he has any cuckholdish or voyeuristic tendencies, but because the two of them aren't actually in any kind of romantic or sexual relationship at all in the first place (no matter how much A.B.A. believes they are) and he'd love for her to move on from him to someone who actually loves her back (both for her sake and his own)

#to all non-guilty-gear-fans confused by this post: Paracelsus is also a giant sentient key. hope that helps!#guilty gear #a.b.a guilty gear #a.b.a #a.b.a.#a.b #a.b.a. guilty gear #aba #aba guilty gear #paracelsus #paracelsus guilty gear #me

153 notes · View notes

jamil-s-wifey · 10 months

Note

Howdy~! Loved your writing! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Jamil Viper suddenly had a nightmare of hurting his fem! s/o during his Overblot and when he wakes up, he quickly rushes over to Ramshackle to check on her, make sure she’s okay? Please and thank you!

Hi, hello hun! Thank you very much, I'm glad my writing brings a smile to people's faces! I love writing comfort fics, so this is right up my alley! Every comfort twst fic has been consumed by yours truly! I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Dead bodies and mildly gruesome imagery. I kind of went overboard with the nightmare portion-

Drip drip drip

The only sound which could reach his ears was the incessant dripping of ink, covering the ground beneath his feet.

Slithering snakes obscured his peripheral vision, red hot rage filled his veins. The school was in shambles, in every corner there were bodies littering the ground - weakened and malnourished students, who lost their lives under his fanatic dictatorship.

He was the master, but the master of what? Of ruins, of a rotting building, of a dying student body, controlled against their will, of darkened cold nothingness hidden behind lavish feasts and glittering gold. And then there was you - his jewel in the rough, his biggest treasure, kneeling before him, eyes filled with hatred, fear... and exhaustion. You dared not look him in the eyes, but your downward gaze spoke volumes - the love of his life who refused to succumb to her master's wishes.

"Pitiful. You keep disobeying your master. Haven't I taught you manners?"

You refused to answer him, gaze never leaving the ground.

"My treasure, have I not given you everything?" His voice lowered threateningly. "Or perhaps you'd choose to follow in your classmate's footsteps. Perhaps it was foolish of me to believe you'd be anything different than those mindless slaves."

You didn't answer.

"Or perhaps they've contaminated your brain. That must be it, why else would you refuse so adamantly the life of a goddess. Oh, my love, we must cure you."

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up. On instinct, you closed your eyes, refusing to catch his gaze.

"Smart little girl." He whispered in your ear. His snakes left painful bitemarks on your skin - covering older ones who'd begun to fade.

That's how it had been for a while - you'd lost track of time. He'd call upon you, lavish you in expensive jewellery, feeding you feasts made by the bloodied hands of your classmates, whisper sweet nothing in your ears. Then he'd get angry at your lack of response and throw you away, leaving you alone in your chambers.

Only this time, it was different.

"Perhaps I should turn to a more radical form of treatment?" His strong hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing.

Your breath became ragged, strained.

"You chose this. I am merely delivering."

You grasped his hand, trying to wiggle away, but it was useless. You felt the ink on his hand seep into your skin and clothes, contaminating your very being.

Your gaze slowly faltered, eyes closing, before he threw you on the ground.

_____________________________________________

As the heavy thud reached his ears he opened his eyes, frantically looking around. He was in his room, it was the middle of the night. He was sweaty, breath ragged. He'd fallen off his bed and that's what woke him up. He searched around for any indication that indeed it was all just a nightmare. With trembling hands he pushed himself up to sit on his bed. His hair was a mess, his heart was beating so loud he felt it might burst through his chest. He felt sick to the stomach, a twisted feeling of guilt, despair and disgust eating at his very core.

His gaze turned to the framed picture on his bedside table. It was you two, on your visit to the Scalding Sands, your arms are wrapped around him and a cheerful smile graced your features.

Was that smile...even real? Or were you being controlled?

Without thinking, he grabbed his shoes and sprinted out of his room, dead set on seeing you, rules be damned.

_____________________________________________

You were woken up by a hurried, frantic knocking on Ramshackle's front door. You slowly got up, cautiously making your way to the entrance. Even though you knew it couldn't be anybody threatening, besides you had the ghosts and Grim as back up, a little caution never hurt anybody.

What you didn't expect to see is your frazzled boyfriend, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug the moment you opened the door.

"Whoah, Jamil. Are....are you okay?" You gently hugged him back, fingers gliding through his hair, untangling any knots he might have.

He didn't respond, instead pulling back to look you in the eyes. You looked at him dead in the eyes, no fear or disgust in your gaze whatsoever. All he saw was worry and perhaps curiosity. His eyes were glassy with untold emotions, gaze heavy with guilt.

"M-may I come in?" He inwardly cursed himself for stuttering.

"Of course, you can. Come in, come in." You grabbed his hand, leading him to your couch. "What happened? Here. I'll get you some water, did you sprint here?"

Before you could get up, he pulled you to him, hands gently cradling your face.

"Jamil, my love." You breathed out, reaching out to cup his face, "Did you perhaps have a nightmare?"

His guilt-ridden gaze moved to the floor. Somehow, only from you, he couldn't hide a single thing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He wasn't sure what to answer. Now that he was with you and his head had cleared up, he realised how bizarre the situation was. Of course it was a nightmare.

But that didn't get rid of the weight on his heart.

"I... dreamed of my overblot. I saw... destruction everywhere. And I was hurting you. Constantly. And the fear in your eyes, it looked so real. I -" he sighed deeply. "You died... By my hands." He felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Oh, Jamil."

"And I know it's just a dream, I know but-" he couldn't keep talking. It all overwhelmed him so much.

"Jamil."

"S/O, I-"

"Jamil!"

He snapped out, turning to you.

"Jamil, I have never, ever, for a single moment, felt afraid or disgusted around you. Your overblot happened, we can't change that, but you didn't hurt me. You didn't then. And you haven't since. And I know very well, that you'd never intentionally hurt me in any way. I trust you and I feel safe around you."

He let out a shaky breath. "How do you know you're not being controlled even right now?" It was stupid of him to ask, but his mind wasn't letting him rest.

"Jamil, both you and I know you can't keep using your unique magic indefinitely. So far, every single thing I've done, I've done on my own accord."

"And you don't fear me..?"

You looked at him dead in the eyes, with the most unwavering, serious gaze you could muster.

"How could I fear the man I love?"

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, which he poured all of his emotions into.

"I promise you, I won't let any harm come your way, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and content, and free." He mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Love, you sound like you're about to propose." You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile graced his features. "Perhaps in the future.", He thought to himself.

"How about we go back to bed, you are most certainly staying the night here, mister. I'll be right next to you when you wake up."

"I'm sorry for barging in at such an ungodly hour."

"Oh, shut up~. You know you're always welcome here, and besides, I'd always prefer to have you next to me when I sleep."

He didn't really understand what he did to deserve you, but you were his beacon of light and he swore to treasure you and keep you safe for as long as you let him.

671 notes · View notes