Tumgik
#accepting a non-able body
catcinnabunbun56-blog · 9 months
Text
I was thinking about the millions of reasons im too scared to have a baby. I really can't see them not having a couple of illnesses that would make their care expensive and delicate. Upon typing for so long about why and my fears i realized how badly i grew up sick.
I've always told myself I'm able bodied but god I've been ignoring hell. For one, I had complications eating since birth. To the point of requiring specific formula as a baby and then pediasure to prevent starvation while my mom desperately found a diet that worked for me and my texture issues. But I also remember how awful my body took food poisoning. Im talking doubled over in bed every waking moment, unable to eat, hardly able to drink and dehydrated from diarrhea or vomiting. Sounds kinda normal but my family used to have to help clean me up and let me sleep through days while force feeding me antibiotics in hopes that the lack of food wouldn't make things worse.
I remember how my fevers from migraines took me out of school dozens of times since 1st grade. This wasn't your average headache. This was a kid gripping their head and eyes, scream crying because all their senses felt like they were on fire. Every light hurt, every noises ached, touch was difficult when your skin was buring up but you felt so cold you curled into your clothes and strong smells made me wanna puke. All swirling in more pain. Mom almost got truancy once. But no neurologist would take me in due to age. I almost question if my family could have gotten me killed from ignorance bc i remember temperatures of 106°F and higher being normal for me. Only recently i found out they should have rushed me to a hospital for having fevers above like 104°F for far longer than a day at such a tiny age.
Skin sensitive became concerning skin allergies. Near sightedness became me needing to sit at the front in class and take 5 minutes to read the bellwork questions. Me and mom still should move bc technically this area is awful for sickle cell. I think i just got so use to requiring pain meds on hand, urgent care visits, antibiotics and etc that I never thought of it as abnormal. And likely has led to me treating my new problems badly. Hell right now i still can't say "disability" when referring to my leg. The same leg that has muscle atrophy, requires braces for long walks, is why i currently cannot run without risk of temporary paralysis and is why i prefer elevators because going up stairs hurts a shit ton. Yeah i have alot of progress to make on caring for myself and accepting i need additional care. And that all makes me feel like a genetic curse in a word that pushes me to want kids.
5 notes · View notes
as-rare-as-trees · 1 year
Text
Due to personal reasons I will be in a freezer until the end of summer, thank you and goodbye
2 notes · View notes
oldmanlusting · 10 months
Text
Biting the bars of my mental cage
1 note · View note
i-drop-level-one-loot · 9 months
Text
*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters
Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.
*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove
Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.
"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."
Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.
"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."
Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.
"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."
Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.
"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"
Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.
"We need you... We need you..."
Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.
"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."
Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.
"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."
Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.
"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"
8K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 5 months
Text
lingering touches
summary. you offer to bathe astarion and he experiences non-sexual intimacy for the first time.
warnings. comfort/fluff
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
a/n. since my other post talking about this did so well i wrote a short lil fic on it!! TFBU ch 4 is in the works i swear. you may notice me writing a lot of fluff outside of TFBU because it's just an angst fest over there and i need happy astarion in my life
Tumblr media
He trusts you. That much is evident when he accepts your suggestion to bathe after a particularly gruesome day out battling against what seems like half the world. But a part of him--the one stuck in the never-ending loop of Cazador's torturous influence--makes him disassociate when you're a few buttons down his shirt.
He's brought back when you hold his hand, eyes meeting with a softness so endearing that he wants to sink into the water and never let go.
"We don't have to do this," you say.
"I want to. Terribly."
You nod and finish undressing the both of you, leading him to the bath where there's already a steaming bath drawn. When he sinks into the water, you're sitting on the opposite side. And while you're only a foot apart, he wants to pull you closer to him.
He notices the way you're shifting---not quite uncomfortable, but a bit bothered by the heat of the water. Of course, he thinks, of course you'd make the bath hotter than your own body can handle for the sake of his own. And regardless, you don't make the first move toward him, in fear of overwhelming him. He may be a difficult person to read, but he can read you like an open book.
He's almost sure he doesn't deserve someone like you, but he's a selfish person.
So he holds a hand toward you. "Come here, love."
You do so, beaming in a way that makes the smallest of smiles stretch on his own lips. You're infectious in a way that scares him and intrigues him all the same. Soon, he has your back against his chest and his arms looping around your waist while you're leaning your head against his shoulder.
He could die here, and he wouldn't complain.
Wordlessly, he takes the shampoo and mixes it into your hair, drinking in everything you do. The way you sigh while he massages it into your scalp, the way you scoop up the water and lift it to wash the dirt off your face, the way you melt into him as if he's a part of you. He wants to be.
"Does it feel that nice?"
You turn, nodding. "Want to try?"
"Oh darling, I'm fully capable of washing my own hair."
"Well, let me at least return the favor."
He nods, passing you the shampoo. You move behind him, propping up on your knees, and generously pouring some on your palm before slathering it over his curly hair. You stifle a laugh when he flinches at how cold it is.
As you wash, he finds himself enjoying it far more than he should be, and by the time you're almost done, he's leaning his head back as if following your hands. It should be embarrassing how enamored he is, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.
It's strange, this intimacy that strays away from an endless night of pleasure. But it's not unwelcome. Not at all.
And when he leans his head back further, finally able to meet your eyes, you press a kiss to his forehead, and he realizes he doesn't care about the vulnerability of laying himself bare either. Because it's you.
1K notes · View notes
emma-needs-attention · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.
And it makes me feel terrible.
Tumblr media
I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.
And it made me feel terrible.
I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.
Tumblr media
If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?
Tumblr media
I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.
I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?
Tumblr media
But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?
I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?
Tumblr media
As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.
But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.
I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.
Tumblr media
For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?
I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.
Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.
Tumblr media
Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.
I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
chaos-in-deepspace · 9 days
Text
LNDS Spicy Headcanons | 18+
Well I did generalized headcanons for the boys, now we need to get into the spice headcanons. Which honestly is one of my favorite things to write. I regret nothing when it comes to Rafayel's part.
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: 18+ Headcanons, Cockwarming, Consensual Somnophilia, Sexting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bathtub Sex, Mentions of Oral (M!Receiving), Non-Human Anatomy
Blog Information | Masterlist
Tumblr media
Xavier
One of the kinkiest men you will ever meet. Is willing to try everything at least once if given the option. The worst part is he doesn't seem like the type at all until you're in the bedroom with him and you realize you might be in danger.
He is normally on top, but doesn't mind being a switch, especially when he's tired. If you want to take charge and pamper him, then by all means. As long as you don't tease him too much he'll let you do just about anything. If you tease him though...well you won't be on top for very long. The moment he loses control you'll be bent like a pretzel.
Xavier has more length than girth, and god damn is he able to use that to his advantage. If anything his dick is actually kind of pretty, with a few prominent veins on it and a soft pink tip. Now how he uses it...he will learn your body so well that he can perfectly angle himself inside of you and make you see stars. There is no saving you at that point.
Xavier can't say he has a favorite position when he's taking you. As long as he can be inside you in some way, shape, or form, he's content. If he had to choose though, he likes being in a spooning position with his cock buried into your heat, his hand on your hip and face in the crook of your neck while he whispers the filthiest things in your ear.
Despite having a larger sex drive than most would think, he doesn't masturbate as often. Anytime he's in the mood he might start, but if he doesn't have you with him it's not as exciting and he often times finds himself wanting to doze off. Only time he'll finish himself off in his own hand is if you're with him, or on call with him and he can hear you moaning as you touch yourself to the sound of his voice.
Xavier can and will send you spicy text messages while you're at work. He's a lot more careful with sending photos though since he'd hate it if you opened an image of him in public and had someone else see on accident. Not because he's ashamed of his body, but because he hates the thought of embarrassing you while you're working. He will, however, happily accept a spicy photo of you at any point in time. He even has a privacy screen on his phone so nobody can accidentally see it.
While Xavier is pretty kinky, he does have a few he is partial to. He likes cockwarming, especially after you two finish. If he had the choice he'd fall asleep with his length still deep inside of you. Another one would be somnophilia, as long as both parties consent to it of course. Xavier feels bad he's always sleeping, so if you ever wanted to use his body he'd be more than happy to let you. Not to mention it would make an amazing wake up call.
Tumblr media
Zayne
Out of all three love interests, Zayne is the most tame when it comes to kinks. While he is happy enough to indulge you with whatever you want to try out, he is very much content with plain vanilla if that's what you request. Honestly whatever works out for the both of you is what he likes.
Now despite him being fine with vanilla sex, if you suggest trying something a bit more out there, he's probably all for it. Especially if you ask him to dominate you. He's already the top when it comes to sex, even if you're riding him he's holding your hips and controlling the tempo. If you ask for more Dom/Sub dynamics, he'll research it heavily before trying anything.
Zayne's dick is an absolute monster. Not only is it girthy, there's also quite a bit of length there as well and the veins lining the length only add to the sensations. It's the kind of dick that you have to whisper "Never back down, never give up". You won't be walking straight for days. It's the kind of cock that might put you in a wheelchair. It's a damn good thing he's a medical professional because his dick might actually destroy you, and yet you'll still be begging for more. Half the time he doesn't even put it in all the way so that you'll have a chance at being able to go to work the next day. And good luck sucking him off, not even a master could fit his entire dick down their throat.
Zayne's favorite position would have to be you riding him. He'll sit down on a couch with you on his lap, your chest right in front of him so he can nip and suck at it. His hands having an almost bruising grip on your hips as he guide you up and down on his length. Your small whimpers as he tells you how good you are for him. To Zayne, literally nothing can beat the view of you bouncing in his lap.
Zayne hates having to take matters into his own hands, literally, but sometimes if he doesn't have you with him he needs to do something. Memories of your nights together will be going through his head until he's painfully hard and can't sleep or work. He's not vocal when he masturbates unless he's on call with you, and even then it's small grunts here and there.
Zayne will avoid sending you pictures that are explicit. He might send more teasing photos to you every now and then, but nothing too bad. He's also careful about sending steamy messages. Normally if he does, it's to inform you of what's to come later in the day and it doesn't go too far. When you two are away from one another for long periods of time, he will video call you for some play time. Sometimes he'll even edge you, telling you not to cum until he gets home (which is torture for those business trips that last literal weeks).
Tumblr media
Rafayel
As long as you're willing, Rafayel is more than happy to explore certain kinks with you. Of course only after you both look into it together. He loves teasing you about them while you two look into it, his body draped over your own while his hands explore your exposed skin, asking if you wanted to try the kink you're reading about right now.
He's a switch without a doubt. When he's bottoming he's nothing but a brat trying to be a power bottom and take control of the situation. When he's on top he is a huge tease, coaxing you into begging him for his touch. Either way, sex with Rafayel is always fun. Normally it's a small battle of dominance to decide who tops and bottoms.
Rafayel has more length than girth, and can definitely be called above average in that department. He isn't huge though, but just the right size to make you feel completely full. He also knows how to use it, making you whimper out his name as he slowly drags his length against your warm walls. His dick is pretty smooth as well, the veins not being very prominent. It is extremely sensitive to your touch though, and it's so easy to get him riled up just by running your hand over his pants.
To nobody's surprise, Rafayel likes to take you in the water. Whether it be in the pool, his tub, or the ocean. He has to admit you look amazing while the two of you are in the tub, your hands gripping the edges as you slowly ride him. His hands playing with all your exposed parts, teasing you and slowly bucking his hips into your own. Watching you cum and collapse onto his chest, panting his name as he continued fucking into you while you cling to him until he finishes, sometimes dragging another orgasm out of you.
Rafayel can and will masturbate to the thought of you whenever he has so much of a dirty thought. He's so down bad for you that he can't help himself. Just remembering how your skin feels against him, or how you whimper his name is enough to get him hard. He's not afraid to admit he's had to escape to the bathroom at one of his exhibits before just to get it out of his system. He can and will inform you about how it's all your fault and how you need to take responsibility.
Speaking of how you'll be informed if he masturbates, he will send you photos when it happens. His hand wrapped around his cock while in a closet during an event. Sometimes you'll see the cum dripping from the tip as he tells you n detail what you do to him. If he's at the studio, he'll call you up moaning your name, asking when you can come over. Of course this doesn't happen daily, but it is smart to make sure to have a privacy screen for your phone as well as headphones when you answer one of Rafayel's video calls if you're in public.
Lemurian Form
Rafayel is significantly more sensitive to touch in his Lemurian form. Feeling your hands tracing over his delicate scales will send shivers right down his spine.
He has two...and they're not small either. He has a slit in his tail that's softer than the rest and if you play with it enough, his cocks will come out. They're stacked, one on top of the other. The bottom one is about the side of his normal dick, but the top is significantly bigger.
They're tapered as well, coming to a soft point at the tips. The base of his cock has soft scales that are extremely sensitive (touching them the first time made him cum instantly). The rest of his length is a soft blue color that gradients to a more flesh tone at the top.
His cum is bioluminescent.
472 notes · View notes
okwonyo · 12 days
Text
love confessions.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader eight hundred non-idol au fluff getting together + cw. not proof-read skinship kissing ( other )
Tumblr media
heeseung
would always be very straightforward about his feelings for you, from the second he felt his fondness for you overlapping friendship a little bit.
would be confused whenever you respond to his loving works by a teasing flirt, his hushed date offers to you displaying as jokes from your point a view.
and then, when he would understand and finally confess to you in a way that could not make you doubt, he would get giggly. face growing red, being unable to sustain his laugher and getting visibly shy whenever his gaze meets yours.
“i’ll give you all of me, all my love”
jongseong
would think about it for years. his heart beating, warmth filling his entire body at the thought of which words he should use alone.
would invite you somewhere you like, calm and private. just the both of you, eyes locked, heartbeat getting slowly synchronized.
would take your hands in yours, thumb stroking your skin in a beyond reassuring way. your gaze would be enough to make him confess then and there, so natural, like he was born for it.
“i adore everything about you”
jaeyun
would stumble over his words while avoiding your gaze in the process. would end up in a complete mess, throwing words around and making non understandable sentences.
his love confession would be said in one breath, a quick sentence but still full of meaning and thoughtful. which would make swipe you of your feet.
would ask for you for a kiss in a shy voice. you would be able to hear his heart throbbing against his chest as he leans towards you. a soft giggle would escape from his lips after a quick peck, turning his head away from you.
“i just can’t think of anything but you— my head is full of you, my heart is full of you”
sunghoon
his lingering stares, cheesing smiles and soft touches are obvious enough for everyone to see how much he likes you. to him, these are love confessions on their own and he never wanted to hide it.
would let it slip during a hangout together; maybe a walk in a park or just sitting next to each other in front of a lake, washing the ducks on a bench and eating waffles.
would watch you with a gentle smile while you almost choke on your food, right after realization eats you in the most brutal way possible. he would fall for you even more.
“my heart is full of you”
seonwoo
would spend a lot of time finding a hood gift for you— although, every thing his eyes leans on would remind him of you somehow.
soft words written on a pretty card, your favorite flowers wrapped in a pretty tissue and a cute little gift. even if you reject him, seeing you smile because of the presents would ease his heart.
on the way home, would shyly come hold your hand after you accept his feelings for you and tell him that they are reciprocated.
“i wish i could give you every flower that i find”
jungwon
wouldn’t be able to think of a moment where his heart wasn’t beating with nothing but pure fondness towards you. since the moment he met you to, he believes, the rest of his life.
would be unable to get you out his mind, even when he is not supposed to think about, when he is supposed to focus and give all his focus.
would confess, thinking that it would go away if it was finally said out loud — it wouldn’t work. now that would become his girlfriend, it would have gotten even worse.
“i’m not easily distracted but you are acting like a magnet”
riki
would ask his friends about how he should do, excepting a valid solution and normal answers to his questions. which would be an huge mistake, in his point of you, they can’t stop teasing him about it now.
would confess to you in such a soft spoken voice that it would make melt. his eyes would avoid yours in a awkward yet cute way.
a thanks would be said from him after you accept his confession, without thinking and an quick apology about it would follow close behind. would just get so shy, now that he is your boyfriend, he doesn’t know how to act properly around you.
“everything feels so soft and warm when i’m talking to you. i think i like you a little too much”
Tumblr media
i wanted to write this for a while now ! but i wasn’t really sure how to, i hope you all enjoyed ^^
461 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 5 months
Note
Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his shy gn s/o nervously asking if they can kiss him on the lips?
note: going to answer his as if it’s their first kiss together reader is asking for!
bg3 Taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13
Tumblr media
Astarion
tries to downplay how genuinely pleased he is by putting on his typical bravado “oh well I knew you couldn’t keep away, darling”
secretly chuffed because he understands having boundaries over your body and he’s pleased that you’re comfortable enough with him to ask
doesn’t want to make a big deal about it in camp but doesnt hide, either — wraps an arm around your waist and brings you to where he’s standing in the mouth of his tent
wants to make it special. catches your lips with his fangs a little but not too hard.
melts a little when he feels your hand gently run up his chest.
when you break apart, smiling, he feels a little thrill at how happy you look ❤️
Gale
surprised you’re asking! out loud says, “you don’t need permission to kiss me, they’re always gladly accepted.”
but sees how much courage it took for you to ask. Is so happy you trust him.
looks around, “where do you want me…? it has to be perfect…”
that’s enough to break some tension, you laugh and press your lips to his
his hands settle on your waist. not too tight, just enough to anchor you to the moment
you can feel him smile into it 💕
“well I certainly hope that we’re able to repeat that.”
you laugh, and go in for another one…
Wyll
my man is a romantic. this kiss is at a planned event.
not that he’s pressuring you into it! he just wants to have a lovely romantic date and it so happens that that’s where you feel safe enough to ask.
you're sequestered away from the group, little picnic spread out, he wanted to have a nice moment for just the two of you.
you gather up the courage to ask him and he’s surprised for a moment! but then he smiles; hand sliding up your arm to cup your face, his lips meet yours when you lean into it
it’s perfect. soft, gentle, loving. you can feel the emotion behind it.
he’s smiling when he pulls back. for a moment, you want to apologise for not instigating this sooner. but then, as if he’s read your mind:
“you’re worth waiting a lifetime for.”
Halsin
honoured you trust him enough to ask.
he doesn’t care about rushing into anything. he’s an older man, happy to wait to take things at your pace.
not to say he isn’t pleased you asked — he is! he’s wanted to know what your kiss tastes like for a while now.
when we see him kiss in game there’s a ferocity behind it. but this time it’s soft, he lets you take the lead with pace.
uses his body to shield you from the rest of the camp so that the moment isn’t too public.
hands softly wrapping around you, bringing you to his broad chest. keeping you safe against him.
he mutters against your lips. “nature truly look its time with you. you are perfect…”
if he says it enough, maybe you’ll believe it’s true.
Dammon
is so immediately thrown he can’t even answer for a moment.
is the heat in his cheeks from the forge or something else…?
manages to find his words after a moment, “oh… yes! hang on, let me…”
cleans his hands, quickly splashes his face with water to remove the soot, turns to you-
“how should I…”
you reach over and gently press your lips to his, surprising him!
but then he wraps his arms around you, tail swishing in such enthusiasm it takes out a row of tools
he’s a bit nervous to start with but gets super into it
wants to do it again and again… if you’ll let him…
(and you do)
Rolan
you ask if you can kiss him.
an immediate “YES”
he’s so excited. there’s a non-zero chance this is his first kiss.
tries to be soft and careful but can’t hold in how happy he is.
teeth clack together a bit, maybe a bit too eager with tongue… but you find yourself smiling into it anyway 💕
again, another tail swisher. can’t keep his emotions hidden from you. doesn’t want to.
he wants to touch you all over but keeps his hands to your waist to make sure you feel comfortable.
when you pull away he’s blushing, muttering “wow…”
he’s left speechless by you.
Zevlor
my man is the most respectful tiefling around.
honoured to be asked to kiss you. I think he takes you somewhere quiet, secluded. doesn’t want people staring.
slowly brings you against his body before pressing his lips to yours.
you feel… protected by his kiss? it’s hard to explain.
you just know he’d protect you.
and the kiss is perfect.
995 notes · View notes
Text
HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN.
Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), kinda non/dub con, p in v, semi public sex, doggy style, degrading, slapping, possessiveness, jealousy
WORDS: 1.5 K
NOTES: This is something I had written and posted on another blog when I (rightfully so) didn't feel accepted and wanted in fandom. So, if any of you remembers this, it was written by me. This is Lingo Jam High Valyrian (it is what it is).
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
Tumblr media
It’s way past the Hour of the Owl as you stand in the Throne Room all by yourself, all the tables for the guests of your coronation feast having already been cleared and stored away by the keep’s staff, leaving the room to be eerily quiet and empty. 
You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, looming in the dim light of the candles around you, your fingertips barely brushing the sharp swords that were used to forge it by your ancestors, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. 
Unlike your grandsire and father before you, you chose to wear the Conqueror's Crown and wield his sword, the big, square-cut rubies complimenting the red and gold gown you wear. 
The heavy doors leading to the intimidating chambers open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence and serenity. His footsteps are heavy, bouncing off the thick columns and walls on his way. 
“Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the ostentatious crown on your head toppling to the ground at the impact. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?
Both your hands immediately seize the armrests of the Iron Throne for support, more so when Daemon’s hand falls to the place between your shoulders to keep you exactly like you are, bowed forward with no chance to move. 
“Hm,” he hums, applying just a bit of pressure to your back. “How about the wanton farce you put up for that cunt of a Lannister?” he growls, and it’s clear it is not a question but an accusation. 
There is not one breath wasted when he rucks up the skirts of your gown and bunches it around your waist, fisting it with one of his large paws. The matter clearly is serious, and has occupied him for quite some time now, considering he prefers to answer you in the Common Tongue rather than High Valyrian. 
But it’s not like you have much time to really process the meaning behind it, considering he has the skirt of your dress in his hand in one moment, and your small clothes pulled down to your knees in the next. Your cunt is exposed to the chilly air of the Red Keep, and to anyone that chooses to intrude on such an intimate and disgraceful scene, and much to your husband’s surprise, you’re soaked with anticipation, which earns you a condescending scoff from him. 
He has quickly figured that there isn't going to come any reply from you, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the little predicament you’ve found yourself in, and forces a gasp from your lips as his hand not-so-gently collides with your bare rear. 
Your body slightly lulls forwards to escape the stinging pain that blooms on your skin, but to now avail. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you press with despair audible in your voice. 
But he just scoffs again. “Oh, I’m certain you don’t,” his voice is sharp, and the words underlined by another slap to your arse. “Need I remind Your Grace who they belong to?” The title is spoken in a way to make a mock display of his courtesy, displaying how little care he holds over your status at this moment.
You’re not quite sure what he is up to when you feel and hear him shifting and fumbling behind you, although you have a mild guess, until you feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He pushes in even before you can answer, any words or pathetic protests dying on your tongue and replaced by a moan. 
“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself, his tone suddenly taking on an air of smugness. His words are followed by a groan that flows into a heedless sigh as he bottoms out completely, his heavy stones pressing against your pearl. 
It’s a side to Daemon you haven’t seen or experienced before, despite growing up around him, his several liaisons and wives. There has never been something akin to jealousy coursing through his veins before. Yes, Daemon has always been a little too rough, too impatient and resolving matters by force rather than diplomacy, but you’ve never seen his blood run this hot. 
His upper body slightly bends forward and towers over yours as he rests one hand on the backrest of the Throne, the other still on your hip with your skirts tightly secured.
“What–” the words catch in your throat, replaced by a whimper. “What if anyone sees us?” 
“Jaelan zirȳ naejot ūndegon,” he growls. “Jaelan zirȳ naejot gīmigon bona iksā ñuhon.” I want them to see. I want them to know that you’re mine. 
The whine you release at that is nothing short of desperate. While the thought of anyone catching you two frightens you to the core, you enjoy the possessive side of him, reveling in his desire just for you since you’ve shared it most of your life with your younger sister. 
Pulling out of you almost completely, the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains buried inside of you. While the feeling of the sudden loss makes you whine and push your hips back to force him inside again, it also earns you another harsh slap that’s served to your arse. 
“Ao sagon ñuhon se mazemā skoros nyke tepagon ao, iksis bona shifang?” You're mine and you take what I give you, is that understood?
Daemon then slams his hips into yours as a warning, filling you up in a swift thrust that has you gasping, and knocks the air straight from your lungs. “Gaomagon daor mazverdagon nyke ivestragon ziry arlī,” he snarls. “Gaomagon. Ao. Shifang?” Each word is punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips.  Don’t make me say it again. Do. You. Understand?
“K… kessa,” you hiccup. Yes. 
The pace of his thrusts is nothing short of ruthless, and he uses the grip on your hip to pull you back onto his cock for your bodies to meet halfway, the most obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls of the Throne Room.
His stones are heavy and the fleshy pouch they sit in slightly sagged, hitting your pearl perfectly each time he fills you to the brim, and sending shivers to the soles of your feet. 
Daemon forces your hips higher until you’re standing on your tiptoes for him, your body barely supported by his fingers digging into your hip. The angle changes with that, allowing him to shove his cock into you even deeper than before – a change that has him groaning and grunting over and over again. 
Your eyes lull into the back of your head, and the heat in your belly doesn’t diminish, causing a renewed wave of arousal to leak out of your core. 
Not caring if the skirts of your gown are riding down again, he grips the back of your neck firmly enough so you can’t turn your head, fucking you as if his life depends on it and knocking every breath clean out of your lungs. 
Daemon forces his hips into yours with such determination, he is close to shoving you up against the Iron Throne with the force of his need, your arms almost buckling under the weight he puts onto you. You can tell he’s racing for completion, effectively pulling you with him in the process. 
With the pace of his hips not faltering once, your peak washes over you in an ambush. The pleasure in your body gets intense enough for your legs to tremble, his hand that rests on the Iron Throne coming down to seize your hip to support you. Your walls clench around his cock tight enough for him to draw in a sharp breath, but the assault on your cunt doesn’t cease. 
“Qilōni gaomagon ao sytilībagon naejot?” Daemon groans, pulling you back onto his cock and fucking you through your peak. Who do you belong to? It’s almost as if he’s asking for your reassurance, wanting to be sure of your feelings for him. 
“A… ao,” you hiccup. “Ik… iksan aōhon.” You. I’m yours.
His peak crashes over him with your reassurance, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your cunt. His hands trail up and down your sides in nothing else than pure bliss, and when it’s all over, he releases a sigh of relief, almost as if the pressure has fallen off his shoulders. 
He cups your arse with both hands, and squeezes your flesh. When he doesn’t make any move to pull out of you, however, it’s clear that he is relishing the way your drenched cunt embraces his flaccid cock.
“No one will make you feel as good as I do, dōna ābrazȳrys, and certainly no Lannister,” he rasps. “He would not know how to handle the Blood of the Dragon. You were made for me, and you belong to me. Always have, always will.” Sweet wife. 
Tumblr media
Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson
614 notes · View notes
taintedbenevolence · 2 months
Text
"𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊." — YANDERE DAN HENG · IMBIBITOR LUNAE x FEMALE READER
𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 — nsfw, short prompt 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Not proofread! Use of profanities, non-consensual display of affection, obsessive & possessive behavior, (brief insinuations/mentions of) breeding kink. Dan Heng bites and marks reader. notation: any character participants are aged 18 and up. just for the record. I don't write sexual content for minors. please know that.
Tumblr media
"I warned you," he huffed with mild irritation, as he thrusted himself inside of you for what seemed to be another, countless time. "Don't test me."
It was a bad enough idea when you had decided to argue, telling him that you'd find a way out, pointing out all the individual flaws of the manner in which he kept you trapped.
You'd begun to find solutions to your inescapable cage with this man, and it filled him with indignation, because he was entirely enraptured by you, and he refused to let you go. The very thought of you escaping was something he couldn't stand.
Being all alone was the last thing he needed. Break his arms and legs, but he'll cling to you like there's no one else he loves more and needs.
But seeing as how you'd decided to try and make an attempt to escape, he had zero intent to let you go now, more than ever. He pondered on just what he'd do to finally ingrain in your head somewhere that you were not going to be leaving – not anytime soon, nor any time later.
He was fine doing anything and everything to keep you by his side.
He'd pump you full of his seed, fill you up with his cum day and night, if it'd remind you that you had no one and no place to go but him and only him, that you were meant to stay with him forever. You would be his and his alone. Right?
He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking you away from him. With all that he's gone through, he at the very least deserves this. Wouldn't you agree?
Even so, you'd grown accustomed to the feel of your wrists bound by chains and cuffs above your head, your ankles tied down similarly whilst his tail coils around your waist, holding you down in place as he pushes in and out of you.
All nice and tied up, open and ready to take whatever was going to ruin you tonight. Would it be his fingers, his tongue, or his cock this time?
It was a chilling feeling that never failed to scare you—the feeling of helplessness that the Vidyadhara always managed to incite within you. It terrified you—to be taken advantage of in such way without being able to do anything about it.
Whether his carnal instincts were led by his previous incarnation or not, you had not the slightest idea, and frankly, you didn't really want to know either. 
All you could do was stay down while he fucked your brains out. ... You should probably watch your mouth the next time you're mad.
He drinks up your mewls, your abused, puffy hole unable to handle any more, but he licks your tears away, seemingly uncaring about how you beg him to stop. In his eyes, this is a punishment. If you keep acting like this, he really won't be able to be as kind as he wishes to be.
He doesn't mean to hurt you, and if you'd let him, oh how he'd worship your body without leaving a single mark, but he can't help himself if you keep behaving yourself like a brat. Please, can't you comply at the very least once? Would it kill you to show some acceptance for him?
Maybe.
And with how many times he has cum inside you, it upsets him that you really can't be impregnated by him. It'd delight him to see your belly swollen with his baby, but alas, it's only a fantasy.
A fantasy that he can't help but try to indulge in every time he fucks you raw.
Perhaps it's a little wrong of him to enjoy how much you cry whenever he does this to you. Just maybe. Maybe. Your cheeks all red, stained with tears, pretty puffed lips all swollen because of his rough, frequent kisses — it makes his heart swell.
He loves it. He loves you.
His face is nuzzled up in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, leaving numerous red marks that most likely will stay for a long time, if not forever, his mouth moving to leave more bruises upon your skin to claim you as his own.
"Dan Heng—" You manage to moan, almost choking on your tears, feeling him push in and out with a rapidity you cannot measure. "'ts too much, 'm cumming, please, a-ah—!"
It's all too much. It hurts too much. You feel too much. Too much pain, too much pleasure, it's all mixing up and your brain by now has been reduced to mush, your words a babbling mess as you whine, whine, and whine, to a point where you don't know how you have not lost your voice.
"Mine, mine, mine, please, s' good," you hear him murmur incoherently to you, the only sound left in the area being the wet squelch, the slapping sounds of skin against skin, your unstable cries, and your sobbing along with his sweet moans as he makes love to you. "P-please, don't leave, mgh-"
Any trace of his gentle demeanor was thrown away from the moment he had you pressed on the mattress. There was only a burning need left in him.
A need only you could satiate. An obsession that would never end.
And for what he's done to you, he knows you harbor hate, but he knows it makes you feel good, so why play pretend? ♡
---------------------------------------------------
A / N - It's a little shorter than usual, sorry </3 Writer's block has been absolutely demolishing me, but I'm hanging in there, I've got a few requests which I'm almost done with rn.. Sorry for the inactivity, I'll be hopefully posting more often if I'm not too burnt-out. Getting this one out so I can finally publish the Neuvi request..
814 notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 3 months
Note
✨M.S Here! Dropping in to request something! You can set this aside if you lack motivation rn
But May I please get a Dom!Ftm Reader thats a mafia boss who uses Yan!Sub!Recruit or Enemy as a dildo, drugging the recruit's/Enemy's drink and just degrading them, telling them how they're only useful for Reader's pleasure?
Or
Dom!GN!Reader whose an assassin somehow ended up in bed with the top boss of Yakuza, bite marks littered all over the boss's body:]
Dom reader x sub character. Includes 2 shorts with dom ftm reader & dom gn reader respectively
Tumblr media Tumblr media
sub!top!amab recruit x dom!bottom!ftm reader
language used: hole
cw: non-con, drugging
Tumblr media
When the new recruit received a whiskey specially poured by his new boss, he was happy to accept it and never doubted that you wouldn't drug him. He was wrong to trust you.
Your new underling slowly opens his eyes, still feeling pretty doped up. He isn't sure how to feel when he realizes you're bouncing on his cock. While he's insanely turned on by the view and the feelings, a small part of him is aware enough to realize he didn't consent.
You notice he's awoken. "You're much better off being my dildo~" You smile. "You would've been fired if it weren't for this dick of yours."
His cheeks burn with heat. Your words have unlocked a new kink of his. Being degraded. He's been insulted hundreds of times but it's completely different when it's coming out of the mouth of someone who he's having sex with. Your dominant attitude and your hurtful words keep his dick flowing with blood.
"This is the only thing you're good for." You lean your head back, stroking your t-dick as you approach your release. "You're nothing- ah- nothing more than a piece of meat–" You come, squeezing his dick. He lets out sounds of pleasure as he feels your hole hug his cock tightly. His feelings might change when he sobers up but right now, he doesn't want this to end.
Tumblr media
sub!male yakuza boss x dom!gn reader
language used for boss & reader: sex
cw: drunk sex, frottage, biting, hickeys, orgasm delay
***
You're not sure exactly how you ended up in the bed of the big bad yakuza boss after just a couple drinks nor how you managed to make him submit to you but you're not complaining. "Please- please, touch me." He begs drunkenly. He's so horny and needy for you, you feel compelled to give him what he wants. You lean into his neck and give him a kiss before biting him, your sex rubbing against his. He whimpers and moans in pleasure as he happily lets you mark him up, his body quickly reaching nirvana thanks to his drunken state. "Gonna- gonna come~" He moans. You stop, in turn preventing him from orgasming. He whines in dismay. "Please, [Name], I wanna come!"
"Ask for it properly." You hold his cheeks in your hand. "Did you forget your manners already?"
"I'm sorry- please let me come, [Name]!"
"Good boy." You purr, continuing your movements. He throws his head back, his body shaking. You watch in amusement as he reaches his peak, shivering as he comes. You don't stop however. He moans at the overstimulation. "You'll let me come too, won't you, baby?"
He nods quickly and endures it in favor of your pleasure. He's barely able to speak, his body twitching and overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure, but he's happy to make sure you have an orgasm too. He feels even more pleasure as he hears and watches you come, your enjoyment evident on your face. He doesn't want the night to end.
591 notes · View notes
spacelazarwolf · 10 months
Text
gonna expand on my other post bc it seems some gentiles are having difficulty understanding this conversation.
i see the sentiment "well jews can hide the fact they're jewish, but black people can't hide the fact they're black!!!!!!" all the time in progressive spaces in response to jews talking about antisemitism (most often from non black people....) and it's bullshit for several reasons, even outside of the idea that people should be able to wear culturally significant items and not face discrimination.
black jews exist. we are not two completely separate groups.
while there is no one way to look jewish, there are a lot of physical features that are very common among jews with jewish heritage (things like curly hair, darker skin, larger downturned noses, darker body hair) that have been specifically targeted by antisemites for centuries. a lot of jews have been bullied or harassed specifically because of these features and the fact society considers them outside of the white norm.
you're setting a horrible precedent for mixed and light skinned folks. at what point is it their "responsibility" to pass as white if they technically could? should they straighten their hair? change their name? use skin lighteners? use double eyelid tape every day? get a nose job? never go out in the sun? never post pictures of their darker skinned family? at what point are their natural features considered changeable enough that the onus is put on them to hide them?
for people who have features they can't hide or change, are you only giving them a pass because they physically can't do anything about their bodies? are you seeing their bodies as an unfortunate problem you can't solve? a stain on the carpet you've accepted you'll never be able to get out so you just put a coffee table over it and hope no one notices?
yes, there are times to talk about situations where some folks can access conditional safety and some folks can't. but the overarching conversation about rejecting assimilation into whiteness cannot and should not be centered around "choices." because "hide who you are or risk violence" is not a choice, it's a threat.
2K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
Text
(y/n) comforting her husband Gojo after he was forced to kill his best friend
Tumblr media
Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1k
Synopsis: The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.
Warning: hurt/comfort, death of Suguru, just a lil oneshot from that anon request I received yesterday, like/comment/reblog if you enjoy <3
Tumblr media
„Satoru“, you whisper softly into the night, his frame standing in the door of your shared apartment.
You weren’t able to get there on time, to be there for him when he needed you the most. While you were out there fighting curses, Satoru was forced to kill his best friend. Why? Why does he have to endure this never-ending pain, the torture of being the strongest? Wasn’t it enough that he lost his best friend? Why on earth did all of this happen? You can't even imagine how horrible he must feel.
“Oh, hey babe! Hope you’re doing fine!”, he greets you with a wide smile, his blindfold hiding the pain in his bright blue orbs from the world.
You can feel your heart shatter inside your chest. He is never able to be sad, never able to show how he truly feels. Not even when he’s alone with you, his wife, he lets go of his façade. And while you were always able to accept the stinging fact that he’ll never let you see everything, this doesn’t seem to be enough tonight.
“How are you feeling?”
He simply shrugs his shoulders while letting himself drop onto the couch next to you casually.
“Definitely better than the rest. Damn, have you seen how beat up the kids were? Oh, do you remember that one curse who-“
“Satoru”, you interrupt him softly.
Gently, you caress his cheek the way he always loves, watching as the wide grin on his face disappears with every skilled stroke of your hand.
“You know that this wasn’t what I meant.”
He lets out his breath, body suddenly so firm against your touch that he seems to tense every muscle in his body.
“So there’s really no way out of this conversation, huh?”, he mumbles.
The man right in front of you isn’t the Gojo Satoru everyone loves and curses at the same time. No, at the moment he isn’t the strongest, the teacher, the savior.
At the moment he’s just Satoru.
“Come on, take that mask off.”
Gradually, your fingers open the knot of his blindfold. You wait a second, give him the chance to protest against your actions. But when he stays silent, you slide his blindfold off his gorgeous face, revealing the heaviest eyes you’ve ever seen.
“I’m tired, (y/n). I’m so damn tired”, he finally gives in with low voice.
You have to swallow hard, concentrate all your composure on not breaking down and cry. His eyes don’t shine as bright as they usual do, the dark circles showing more than urgently that Satoru is far beyond being exhausted.
“I still don’t get why he did all that shit, why he had to die today”, he continues, resting his head against the couch while plainly staring at the ceiling.
“And that I’m the one who finished him. He’s my best friend, (y/n). The one and only…”
“None of this is your fault-“
“Is it really, though? I should have been more attentive back then, should have been there for him, I-“
“This is not your fault”, you insist.
No, you simply can't allow him to talk about himself like this, to load even more responsibitly on his very own shoulders.
“Who says he wouldn’t have chosen this path even with you by his side? Who says you would have been able to stop him? Suguru was surrounded by friends and horror, had multiple chances to change his mind. He knew that this would happen someday, he was ready to die for this. None of this will ever be your fault, Satoru.”
“And what about all the others? Yuta, Maki, Toge and Panda almost getting killed, Haibara, the countless sorcerers who lost their lives. All these non-jujutsu sorcerers who died because of me. How long will it go on like this? And what if I’ll snap just like Suguru did? I…I can’t do this anymore.”
He lets out a shaky breath, eyes on the brink of overflowing with tears. Never in your life have you seen your husband this vulnerable, brought down by life itself. And the worst is that you can’t help him. No, there are no word that could take away his pain. There are no words to comfort him over his best friends’ death, over the countless other people who died because he’s alive.
“There is nothing I can say to cheer you up”, you finally admit.
Gently, you sit on your knees and bend over him, hands cupping his cheeks.
“But even though you don’t deserve this, even though you feel like you’re worthless I want you to remember that you are loved. Haibara loved you, Suguru loved you until the very end and I do. I will love through no matter what, I’ll stay right here by your side through it all. You don’t have to hide your tears from me, you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine when you’re far away from being fine.”
“I’m not, (y/n). I’m so far away from fine that I feel like I’ll never be happy again”, he mutters with trembling lips.
Just before a tear falls down his cheek you catch it with your finger.
“And it is more than natural to feel this way”, you reply softly.
“Do you think…Do you think he was my friend until the end?”
“Oh, he definitely was. Even though you didn’t have the same opinion, Suguru will always be your friend.”
He gifts you a small smile when another wave of tears haunts him.
“Can you hold me please?”
Your husband doesn’t have to ask twice. You let yourself fall against his chest, caress the back of his head while he swallows you with his arms, presses you firmly against his body while crying his heart out.
“I love you, (y/n). God, I love you so much”, he mutters against your neck, covers you with tiny kisses until you don’t know how to breathe anymore.
“I love you too, babe. Let’s just stay here for a while.”
“Yeah. Staying here sounds good…”
Tumblr media
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru
936 notes · View notes
hazbinshusk · 19 days
Text
husk x fem!reader (called 'my girl' by husk, although non-specific on body parts)
he's never been able to say 'no' to you, even when there's other people in the room. praise, light daddy kink, affection in french, and sex behind the bar. 1k words.
***************************************************************************************
Leaning your elbows on the polished wood of the bar, you rested your chin on your hands with a smile. Husk met your eye as he turned away from the glassware to face you, sighing even as his own lips quirked up on one side in a smirk. “What are you thinkin’?”
“Me? Nothing at all,” you replied, faux-innocently. “I’m just looking for a refill.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied dryly, reaching for the cocktail shaker. “I know that look, doll.”
Your smile widened despite your attempt at nonchalance, and you bit your lip. “I just thought you might be lonely over here is all.”
“So, you ditched the movie night just to say ‘hello’?” he asked, nodding over to where the rest of the hotel residents sat in front of the TV. It was the latest in a long line of activities designed to build comradery among the staff and guests.
“Maybe.”
“I ever tell you that you can’t lie for shit?”
You snickered, accepting the drink he slid your way. “Okay, so maybe I had a thought.”
“Dangerous.”
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.
Husk groaned softly at the suggestive tone in your voice. “You know I want to, sweetness. But I can’t leave ‘til the last guest does. Boss’s orders.”
“But Alastor isn’t even here,” you pointed out with a pout. There was no way the radio demon could have been convinced to spend an evening in front of a television screen.
Husk grimaced apologetically, his claws ghosting against the base of his throat for a moment. “Not how it works, doll.”
You sighed, downing your drink and setting the glass back on the bar. You reached across the bar to rub your fingers through the soft fur on his cheek, smiling as he leaned into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment.
Husk gave you a small, wistful smile as you withdrew and turned away again. He jumped, letting out a small ‘mrrp’ of surprise as you rounded the bar instead of returning to the others.
“What’re you doin’?”
“Keeping you company,” you told him with an innocent shrug. Husk’s eyes widened, his ears folding back as you pressed a hand up against his crotch. You felt him twitch under your palm. “I’ve missed you today, daddy.”
“Oh, you are evil,” he muttered, casting a nervous glance over at the others.
“Please?” you drew out the word with an enticing smile, your other hand scratching through the downy fur below his navel.
Husk shuddered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. Your smile widened and heat rose in a shiver up your back as you felt his lips and the rough slide of his tongue against your collarbone. His hands took hold of your hips, his ear twitching as your exhale tickled it.
“You’re gonna be nice and quiet for me, right doll?” he asked, his voice deliciously rough as a soft, steady purr reverberated through his chest. You nodded, and his smirk widened, his teeth glinting in the bar light. “That’s my good girl.”
***
You bit back a moan as Husk pressed himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace, the two of you exhaling together as he bottomed out. He withdrew just as slowly, the barbs along the length of his cock making you shudder. His lips dusted over your back, dulled by the fabric of your shirt, his claws pricking at your waist.
He had you bent over the bar, your fingers curled white-knuckled around the edge of the counter. You rocked forward with each gentle, torturous thrust of his hips into your ass, listening to the quiet hums of pleasure he made each time you tightened around him.
“You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he murmured, trailing claws down along your thigh. “Such a good girl…”
You whimpered, head falling against your arms as your back arched.
“No, no, no, c’mon kitten,” he whispered, hands tightening as they found your hips. “Eyes up. Don’t want us getting caught, do you?”
You shook your head, a moan catching in your throat as he thrust into you harder than before.
“You sure?” he teased quietly, leaning over you so his breath tickled the back of your neck. “You sure you’re not gettin’ all hot just thinkin’ about gettin’ caught?”
You whined, slapping a hand over your mouth as you rocked your hips back into his.
Husk chuckled in the back of his throat, sliding one hand up under your shirt to slide his claws along the small of your back. “That’s my filthy girl.”
“Fuck, Husk…” you moaned into your palm, eyes rolling back as the bartender’s cock brushed up against that sweet spot inside you. Your thighs were beginning to shake, and you could feel the inside of them growing slick with your own arousal. “Please…”
Husk hummed, his lips touching the nape of your neck. “You wanna cum, baby?”
You nodded eagerly, your brow furrowed with the struggle to keep quiet.
His teeth sunk gently into your skin before he lathed the mark with his tongue. “Go ahead, sweetness. I’ve got you.”
You bit down on your hand as you came, eyes squeezed closed. Husk groaned low in his throat as you tightened around him, his hips stuttering into yours as his own orgasm spilled into you.
“Fuck…” he drew out the word in a shaky whisper, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades. You whimpered as he pulled out of your slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs. “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.”
You hummed, light-headed, as you wiped at your thighs with a napkin and pulled your clothes back into place. “Tu me gates toujours si bien, minou.”
Husk smiled affectionately, kissing the corner of your jaw. You pulled his suspender back into place. “Seulement le meilleur pour toi, ma chérie.”
“Y’know,” Angel’s voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the room, and you jerked away from Husk. “You too are cute ‘n’ all, but if you could wrap whatever the fuck you’re doin’ up, some of us need a new drink!”
269 notes · View notes
gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
Text
Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 6
You start to break down, finally accepting Konig's soft advances.
WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing
Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3
Tumblr media
This basement is filled with dead people. Or, so you thought at first glance. 
At the second glance, you notice a broken bicycle, a bunch of furniture pieces, and something that you could only describe as a particularly horrible-looking attempt at wood carving. Or, maybe, a hanging post. You were in the killer’s layer, after all. 
You were there for 10, maybe 15 minutes, and you already know that you are not making it out sane. Your whole body is trembling, your head is throbbing, you are dizzy after an orgasm, and Max is still lying here, his body is warm and soft. Blood stopped dripping from his stomach, but it didn’t make him any less dead. Coughing and almost throwing up from disgust, you spit out every last bit of cum that you managed to get out of your sore throat. You needed something – water, normal food, a good few hours of sleep because you’ve been running on sheer adrenaline for the past 12 hours and it started to take a toll on your…everything. 
Just a few hours ago, you were a bored college girl on her forest trip with a bunch of weirdo friends. Your biggest problem was the utter boredom of this fucking woods, not the murderous maniacs on your tail. Now…
— Open wide, Maus. Let me feed you, ja? 
Now you were spoonfed reheated chicken soup by König. Colonel in the PMC. The guy who dropped his mask to make you even more scared because you see all the burn marks and scars on his face, and just know that you won’t ever be able to resist someone as strong as him. 
Guy who calls you “good girl” and pets your head and tries to engage you in this weird as fuck power dynamic that makes your cheeks warm and your mouth open, even though the saltiness of the soup makes you remember his cum and…fuck. Oh, god fucking damnit. 
He is smiling like a maniac, making sure that with each spoon of your soup, you also eat something…you don’t even want to acknowledge it, your stomach is too empty, and your mouth was already tarnished by him, so what’s the problem with a few more drops of his semen, carefully added to the mixture so you won’t be able to miss it? You cringe in disgust as he smiles and pushes even more in your throat, almost making you gag from the spoon deep past your teeth. At least you know that the chicken bits here are actual chicken. 
— Let…let me go. Please.
You finish the bowl of soup after a few torturous minutes. The salty taste in your mouth leaves you cringing, and König smiles, wiping your face with a napkin. You feel helpless – with your arms newly bound, there is nothing much you can do when he presses a bottle of coke to your mouth, making you wash away the incredible saltiness with even more incredible sweetness. You want to gag, but he closes your mouth swiftly after. 
He smiles. 
— We’ll walk you later. Now is not the time for girls to be out. 
— I’m not a…
He scoops you in his hands, your body swinging in the air like a doll. It’s horrible, just how strong he is – makes you tremble in his hold, like a useless little victim you are. God, this even sounds embarrassing – yet you can hear the smile in his voice as he drags you along with him. Forcing you to look at Max’s dead body, the smell isn’t filling the room just yet. You try your best to consider yourself lucky. 
— You’re cranky, Maus. Need to get you out of here before he starts to smell, right? Brainy ones usually rot extremely fast. 
He laughs at his own joke as he pushes you in his arms further. Your head pounds with every one of his rough, deep phrases, his hands are going to roughly manhandle you in place. You whine, too weak to resist but not too weak to stop crying. God, this is pathetic. And scary, And not like those movies about hot killers and half-naked girls. 
You’re not a final girl material because instead of fighting him and slamming your knee in his dick again, you get even further on his hands, hoping he would be able to hold you in place like you wanted it. 
— Not sure if I should call you a Kitten or a good girl. What do you prefer? 
He pushes his large, calloused hand to your face, smearing blood all over your cheeks once again. You cringe, your nose gets the fragrance of blood and decay from his skin – the weirdest fucking perfume that you hope to never smell again. Sobbing softly, you allow him to press his hands on your body, to roam around freely, like you were his fucking treat and not a real person with wants and desires. 
— Fuck you. 
— It’s Horangi’s job, girl. Not yours, ja? 
He laughs plentifully, getting you in his hands. You shiver under his touch, not wanting his fingers anywhere near your abused body – they got you off one time exactly, and you wish never to come from your captor’s toucher. You don’t even want to look at Max, too scared to ever see his lifeless, cold face – terrified of the deep path you feel towards him. Like nothing has happened, like he wasn’t one of your friends. You don’t feel anything besides being tired, and you can’t begin to unwrap all the complex feelings behind your assholish friend group deaths. 
Jenny and Chad are still out here, still could get help – but they were ignoring every one of your pleads, not wanting to ruin their nice vacation with your dumb panic. Deep down, you almost feel like screwing these fucking assholes and hoping that they would get impaled by a large freaking stick, preferably in the middle of very lame and satisfying sex. Preferably…
— König, I thought we agreed of not letting her out. 
— You’re going hunting, and I need company. 
— She could run, you know. You’re too soft on her. 
— I can break her ankle! She won’t run then.
König’s voice is so cheerful you actually feel nauseous. He is smiling and laughing, and they both hug before the shorter guy gets out – you can’t even begin to remember the outline of their house because, honestly, serial killers shouldn’t have houses this nice. Ruch wood, probably painted with blood, some hunting trophies, probably incrusted with human bones and remains of their victims, a lot of silly little knickknacks that are probably trophies from the previous groups of dumb college kids…
Shit, no matter how much you wanted to say that this place looks horrible and straight out of a horror movie, it still looks nice. You wonder if it could be scored for a low price, with all the disappearing in the woods around it. You wonder if they started to kill people to make the house cheaper and buy it for half a Euro and a firm handshake. 
König grabs you like a plush toy, squeezing you in his magnificent, strong chest, almost making you choke on his boobs as you just desperately try to breathe. He smells like masculinity, too much male perfume and blood – you tuck your face closer to his neck, trying to see if you could, perhaps, bite through his blood stream and vampire your way out of this place, but he only laughs, feeling your teeth on his skin as a form of foreplay. You didn’t want foreplay, you wanted to fucking kill him, maul him to death, do everything in your power to drop him on his back and perform acts that would be not only concerning to feminism but humanity as a whole. 
He drops you on the couch before you can sink your teeth into his shoulder, leaving perfect teeth marks on the pale skin of his body. You heard somewhere that human bites are actually incredibly dangerous and call make you ill – you also hoped that you could somehow get rabies from that one poor rodent lying dead on the ground, and so you would be able to transfer the disease to these two fuckers. 
You hoped that Karen would give them all the STDs that are possibly could be transmitted. 
You hoped that Max would annoy the shit out of them before he died. 
You hoped…but it’s useless now, isn’t it? You are sitting on the couch, your captor keeping a firm hand on your thigh, his erection still hard in his pants – you refuse to look at it, you’re better than this, but, oh god, you had no idea a dick could be this dick and don’t prod through pants. You feel like a house dog that was allowed to sit on the soft furniture for the first time in her life, and you hate it. With a groan and, perhaps, a bit of an angry yelp, you fall to the ground. 
König smiles immediately – and pushes your face between his legs, perhaps thinking that you just died to suck him off. You wince, both from disgust and fear. Your jaw is still sore, and you aren’t sure how you can still close it. 
— Such an eager girl, ja? I will give you what you want then. 
Come to think of it, while he is relaxed and his partner is out of the house, you could try to bite his dick off. It should give you a headstart to run and find a weapon to eliminate one of the problems. Then, again, it would require you to put his dick in your mouth again. 
Your jaw pleaded to just allow him to fuck your pussy instead. 
Your pussy pleaded to just give him your ass, to not risk being pregnant. 
Your ass…yeah, you’re not trying anal for the first time with a guy who can swing his dick like a baseball bat and kill some unhappy campers with it. 
With the swiftness of the wind, you get up, sitting on the couch in the most modest pose you can imagine. You threw away a couple of pillows in the process – nice pillows, soft pillows, pillows you couldn’t imagine in the house of not just two killers but two military dudes who don’t seem like the type to like everything soft and cute. Besides you, you guess – or they always get one of their victims as leverage or a fucked up pet until they are fully committed to just killing you and eating what is left of your remains. 
König only laughs, getting a hand over your shoulders and pressing you closer to him. You don’t want to, but you’re basically naked, save for your underwear and torn jeans, and he is warm. You don’t need a blanket when you have his hot flesh next to your skin – you suppress a smile, trying your best not to fall into their clutches. You’re tired, yes, but it’s not an excuse to be a whore! There are many more convenient moments to be a slut and this one is not it. They killed your friends!
Your asshole friends. 
— You have any movie preferences? 
He has to repeat his question a few times, you’re too lost in thought to actually listen. Only when he pinched your thigh, no doubt leaving a bruise, you kinda jumped in place, only barely containing a pathetic whimper. His fingers just started to gently squeeze and play with soft flesh, only making everything more warm and twisted and painful. 
— No slashers. 
He chuckles, pressing his hand deeper into your inner thigh. You try to close your legs, not wanting to invite his fingers in, but he just rests his fingertips on the border of torn jeans, gently brushing it over the sensitiveness of your skin. You gulp, suppressing any reaction. 
— No slashers. Gut. I, too, prefer the real thing. 
Shiver rund down your spine. God, you need to get out of here, not play house with a murderer! A handsome murderer who killed your asshole friends and who was also kinda nice(not killing you, that is) and even saved you from being too hurt and even allowed you on the couch and even…god, you’re a miserable shell of a woman and the greatest speedrunner of the Stockholm syndrome in the world. 
Your body sinks into the couch that smells like a mix between a frat house and a meat fridge. 
He turns on the TV, placing something dumb and loud. You don’t even want to look, but you’re bored, and you don’t want him to think you are letting him off the hook with your observant nature – you look at him, quietly as he intensely watches a…
A familiar melody fills the room. You actually need to wait a few seconds, blink, and then look at the screen again. God, is he fucking serious right n-
You are sitting in the house in the middle of a murder forest, with the dead body of your friend rotting in the basement of said house, you were forced to have sex with the killers of the said friends, and now you’re kidnapped in the said house…and the killer just turned on fucking Encanto for you. 
— It’s popular among girls your age, right? 
You want to say that, among normal college female population, porn would be far more suitable to watch. The guy looks older than you, for sure, mature, with a rugged face and scars and that perfect stubble and touches of silver in his ginger hair, and…shit, you’re dreaming of his rough handsomeness again. Quick, think about your dead friend. 
— I’m not 5. 
— You act like you’re 5. 
— Wh…what do you mean? 
— You left your friends to die, you don’t care that we can hurt you…
— I care that you can hurt me!
— You’re silly, Liebling. A normal person would try to run away three times already. 
— You said you’d break my ankles. 
— I will. Still, you look like you prefer this place more, ja? You can watch dumb shows and eat whatever you want and never worry about…whatever you were doing before. 
— I don’t! I…this is stupid. 
— You’re a bit dumb, Schatzen. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. 
He smiles as he ruffles your hair again, his hand goes to gently cup your face and cover it with hungry, sloppy kisses. You can’t even focus on the cartoon on the screen because he is basically devouring your lips right now, forcing you to open your mouth and invite him in – you don’t want him to bite you, you are hurt enough without that kind of contribution. You feel dizzy, dehydrated, you are still exhausted, and you’d want nothing more but to close your eyes and allow him to do whatever he wants with your lifeless body. 
You want to roll to the side, hug the pillow, and watch Encanto on pair with some trash TV about housewives killing each other over a garden salad. You don’t want to think about your dead friends because they are dead, you are alive, and your lips are getting crushed as he forces the kiss to be more deep, as he brings his hand to gently squeeze your waist and brush over your back. 
You are flushed by the end of the kiss, König grins sluggishly as you are panting, shocked, excited and a bit overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even think about biting his tongue off – which sounded a bit stupid right now, yes, he would probably just kill you for trying, but you could at least…you could at least close your lips and don’t allow him to kiss you like an excited puppy who just loves loves loves covering your face with his saliva. 
Like a dig with a boner, König presses wet lips all over your face and head – in your hair, on your temple, gently brushing over your forehead and cheeks, making sure that he traces his lips over every last bit of blood that he left on your skin. He grunts in the kiss, something more like a guttural moan, and you never knew that just the motion of simple, sloppy kisses can make a man so excited – you are scared and just a little bit curious. Just how much he wants to touch his victim. 
König gently places you down on the couch, forcing you to sit straight. He picks up one of the fallen decor pillows and throws it into your hands, allowing you to have something to fidget with. He almost looks guilty, anxious, that barbaric, rugged face is red with embarrassment and sadness as he can’t really do anything nice with you right now, can’t play with you like he wants to. God, König would give up a lot to just fuck you raw on this couch, to forget about your stupid friends and make you their nice little couple addition – but he promised, he knows he is, and you’re too sensitive and overwhelmed to take him like this now. 
König can bet that you’d be so tight he wouldn’t even get a finger in. Breaking you in should feel fucking amazing. 
— Can’t fuck you right now, Schatzi. Promised my tiger we would share you. 
He smiles guilty, boyish, that dumb smile brings heat to your cheeks again. You turn away from him, feeling his hands keeping you in place firmly – but otherwise, he allows you to just watch the movie, getting lost in the plot you saw a couple dozen times. 
You are watching the movie, and König is watching you. 
— You aren’t sad? 
— About what? You can sense a certain level of nervousness in his tone. You lick your lips, hugging the pillow closer to your face so he won’t be able to read your expressions. 
— That we can’t fuck right now. 
— I don’t want to have sex at all. 
— You came stronger than I did. 
— It’s a…ph…physical reaction. I didn’t want it. 
— You don’t sound convinced. 
He is drilling the dangerous thoughts in your head. The desire to just empty your brain and allow them to take the lead, the desire of your mind to simply shut down from all of the horrors you already saw. This is an apathetic stance – you don’t see a point in fighting after you see what they are capable of, and you certainly don’t see the point in ever trying again. Still, you somehow want them to stop, just so you can stop worrying about falling for their trap and stop being a good person who cares for her friends. 
You feel like almost falling asleep, dozing off on the couch – not because you feel safe or warm, but because your body is simply refusing to reach anymore, too exhausted to produce even the most basic self-reservation instincts. König forces your head on his lap, gently stroking your tear-stained face. 
When Horangi returns home with a bloody axe and Jenny, kicking and screaming in his hold, you are fully asleep on König’s lap. 
883 notes · View notes