#but I will not stop speaking up against their abuse just like I will never stop speaking up against abuse of Palestinians | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months

Text

Rough Sex w/ MW2

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Smut, Rough Sex, Restraining, Stomach Bulging, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Punishment, Use of a Strap-On, Implied Blow Job, Possessive Sex, Dehumanisation, Slut Shaming, Reader Blaming, Hair Pulling, Slight Dumbification, Blood, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Just a stupid little whore, aren’t ya,” Simon growled as he pounded you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that phantom bruises descended upon your skin. The slickness of your abused hole did little to numb the pain of Simon’s rapid, unrelenting pace, of his engorged tip slipping deeper and deeper inside you, plugging you, making any form of escape from your impending unravelment impossible.

You could feel his cock, hot, heavy and ravenous, pulsating inside you, bringing you to the edge of electric euphoria with every thrust.

“Good for nothin’ except takin’ my cock.” He spat, his hand sliding up your spine and rooting itself in your hair. He gripped at the base and pulled your head back, hissing in your ear.

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him you were his, only his, but the words wouldn’t come out quick enough.

When you didn’t answer in time, he stopped. Pulled out, only the swollen tip remaining lodged inside.

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

You’d felt full before, but this sudden influx of skin and muscle and heat was too much. It knocked the air out of you, made you cry out as Simon sank balls-deep inside you, impaling your shuttering, wanting body on his dick. He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

“That’s it,” he said as you whimpered, cried out. “Take it — take it like the slag you are.”

König

“You wanted this – you wanted me to take you. Fucking attention whore,”

König’s voice reached depths you didn’t think possible as he bounced you on his cock, his stomach coated in your juices as he lay beneath you, thrusting up to plant as much of his member in the tight cavern of your hole as possible.

Even from where he lay, he could see the outline of himself within you. He twitched. Tried to stave off from painting your insides white for just a little longer.

You had no choice but to take it – your wrists bound behind your back with König’s belt – to take every inch of König’s cock.

He stretched you out to lengths you didn’t think possible as he pulled you down onto the base of his member, causing tears to stream down your face as he hit a sliver of you you didn’t think existed.

“God, you’re nothing without me,” he asserted, teeth gritted and restraint pushed to the very limit. “Nothing but a rag doll on the end of my dick – only made for me to use as I please.”

You knew it was true, especially with the coil within you verging on snapping, sending you over the precipice of ruin. König gave you a sly, thin grin.

“Nobody else can fuck you like this, can make you cry like this.” His grip on your waist proved he wasn’t lying, shortened nails leaving crescent indents in your skin.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

“Don’t tell me you’re cryin’ on me now, Darlin’,” Johnny said, not an ounce of sympathy or empathy in his voice. If anything, the realisation that you were just about holding on as he railed you from behind seemed to make him go faster, push harder, knocking his thick, meaty cock into you at a pace that could only be savage.

“C’mon, show me you can take it. I know you can,” he goaded — or perhaps encouraged. You couldn’t be so sure, especially as you could barely string a thought together, never mind the inclination to ask. He watched you, made dead eye contact with you through the mirror that put your undoing on display for him, his eyes piercing and ice.

At your silence, Johnny slapped your backside. Harsh. You yelped at the sting and jolted forwards, only for Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat and pull him back. His balls were flush against your backside, the tightness of your bodies together making him grunt.

“C’mon, mo ghaol — tell me how much you need this dick — show me how much you deserve it.” He squeezed your throat.

Valeria

“You were begging to be used by me — wearing those tight shorts like I wouldn’t notice.” Valeria punctuated her point with a harsh thrust, sending you banging against her desk, ribs aching, pressed against sleek wood. Everything hurt.

The strap-on she’d chosen was one she reserved only for correcting your most egregious behaviour. Apparently, this extended to your fashion choices, too.

“Trying to make my men lose focus, huh? Is that it?” The sound and sensation of your body welcoming the cruel length of her weapon made your cheeks flush and your hole clench, trying to pull it deeper, begging for punishment.

“Have I not given you enough attention? Or are you just hungry for anyone who lays eyes on you,”

You whimpered, trying to keep your head level as your girlfriend battered your insides with nothing less than animalistic fervour and rage.

“You wanna dress like a cheap whore,” she said, voice deep and husking as she lowered her lips to your ear. “Then I get to fuck you like one — my whore.”

Price

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you–”

He couldn’t stop – these last few hours with you would be all he had before he had to go on deployment again. And he was determined to make them count.

He’d stuffed himself into you, made light work of grinding your sanity down to its bare foundations as your body shook with the onset of another orgasm.

You were already so sensitive, every knock of his tip against your sensitive spot sending equal euphoria and pain through you.

“Gonna cum in you again,” he said, voice lethargic, words slurred like the blurring edges of watercolours. “Gonna get it as deep as possible. Want it still in you by the time I reach Base.”

The many loads of cum he’d already pumped into you weighed heavy in your belly, almost creating its own centre of gravity as you fought to keep your swollen stomach off the mattress. Anytime you failed, the sensitivity of your skin, the feeling of his load stagnant inside you, made you wince.

You could feel John’s cum leaking out of you as he plunged deep, deeper still, forcing his seed out of the small spaces which weren’t suffocated by his almost impossible girth.

Horangi

“Been stretching you out for hours and you’re still- ngh— fuckin’ tight.” Hong-Jin said, almost as if chiding you. He grunted, balls-deep yet nowhere near satisfied, his resolve being milked from him.

“Gonna need to–” he grunted, “break you in,”

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. One that, despite not having the power of his whole length behind it, forced a strangled moan from you.

His breath caught as he felt himself slip into a deeper, darker part of you, one which seemed to try and reject him as your hole pulsed uselessly around him, as if to push him out.

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

“Doing so well for me, Love,” he groaned, slipping back in and re-establishing a rhythm. You mewled beneath him.

“God, you’re so good — just lying down and taking it – like my own personal fleshlight.”

Alejandro

“So this is why you’ve been acting so strange recently, hm?” Alejandro spoke between pants, arms at either side of your head, blocking off everything that wasn’t him. He gritted his teeth, grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him as he brutalised you with his savage pace, stretching you out and making your hole spasm around his cock.

“Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

You were all but drooling as Alejandro quite literally fucked you dumb, no thoughts in your head save for the desperate electricity between your legs.

When you didn’t answer — or rather couldn’t, for your mind was scarcely able to keep itself intact for the feeling of ruin rapidly descending upon you — Alejandro took your chin between his fingers and forced you to focus on him.

“Didn’t you.” He repeated. To that, the fire in his eyes, you managed a sloppy ‘yes’. Alejandro hummed, pressed himself closer, chest-to-chest.

“Don’t worry, Cariño — we’ve got all night to fuck that pretty little mouth back into working order.”

Rudy

Years of toil, training and discipline have shaped Rudy into the unsuspecting behemoth he is today; as was evident in the way you cried out when his dick skewered you, stretching you out and making your back arch against the mattress. He felt himself pressed to the wall of your abdomen as your stomach met his. He shivered.

“He can’t fuck you like this,” he said, voice low and seething, the intonation of a snake. His usual puppy-eyes were sharp, as if of a feline disposition. He watched you as your eyes, almost having rolled back into your skull, refused to meet his.

“Nobody can have you. You’re mine — only mine.” He slammed into you faster, giving you no preparation and only using the wetness already dripping from between your thighs there to slip in.

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

Your mouth, agape with silent pain, released nothing. Rudy raised his hand, slapped you. You yelped, the sting sending a shock between your legs. You clenched around him. He growled, head dipping to your collarbone, where you could feel his breath, scorching and unrelenting.

“Let’s try this one more time,” he rasped. When he looked up, his eyes were black. Gone was the man you loved.

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

“You like bein’ used by me, don’t ya,” Graves panted, struggling to keep up with the pace of his own euphoria. He could tell you were close, too, from the way tears streamed down your cheeks and how you suctioned around him, pulling him deeper, pleading with him for more.

“Love bein’ my favourite little cum dump — so well-behaved, just for me.”

Nothing could be truer as you felt him thrusting into you at a speed that suggested anger.

“Never be good for anything except taking my cock like a good slut.”

Your tongue lolled out from the corner of your mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets as Phillip allowed you your silence, especially considering how you’d earned it. Your obedience, your willingness to take everything he gave you. You scratched just the right part of Graves’ ego that had sustained him for this long.

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

Gaz’s change in personality, admittedly, frightened you. Especially as he stood over you now, having bound your hands together tied them over your head to the bed frame.

You’d tried encouraging him to just touch you already, to take you now as you were bound and helpless. Hell, you’d even ground yourself against his boot, working yourself up into a frenzy all in an effort to make him crack.

He didn’t.

“Oh no,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “You don’t get my dick yet.”

Already having used his belt to immobilise you, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers. Half-hard and beading at the tip, he eyed you, a cruel smile at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard,” he continued, taking you by the hair and forcing your lips to his pulsing member, watching your eyes widen. “That you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of the week.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

4K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 7 months

Text

TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy.

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-”

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead.

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~” He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting.

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance.

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki

JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya

HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin

BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami

DS - Doma

CSM - Aki

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere kirishima #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere jjk #yandere haikyuu #yandere toji #yandere nanami #yandere geto #yandere demon slayer #yandere blue lock #yandere csm

6K notes · View notes

theoldsports · 7 months

Text

married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow

2K notes · View notes

thekeeperof-thefandoms · 1 month

Text

Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

602 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 1 month

Note

Pleaseee please could you do obsessive acotar boys who can’t get enough of reader please?

Obsessed

Clingy ACOTAR boys headcanons

Warnings- suggestive themes, mentions of abuse, possessive vibes, death, different ideas I either tossed out or was too insecure to post in short form (including an AU where Feyre doesn't destroy Spring and Tamlin isn't turned into what he's turned into), Beron, abuse, the Weaver, Ianthe, pregnancy

Rhysand

The bond snapped after Feyre freed them from the mountain. You were walking with her, giggling about heading home to Spring.

Of course, his mate was his enemy's little sister, and of course that only further the obsession.

Rhys wanted to free you from under Tamlin's grasp, and it became his mission.

It started with daily letters that you ignored.

Then gifts brought to you by shadows.

Then he'd show up in your room. Smiling as he leaned back against your headboard. "Hello y/n Darling."

You caved after 2 weeks of his nightly visits. Allowing him to plan your "kidnapping"

He rips you from Spring with Feyre. Having convinced Tamlin that if he was so worried about his bride to be, he should send his baby sister as a chaperone.

Once he has you in his home, in your home, those soft touches you two shared at night were no longer enough

His lips were on your body constantly. Your hands, your neck, your own soft lips.

Speaking of hands, I hope you like physical contact, because he has to constantly touch you.

In public, the placement is so respectful. Lower back to the lower side, resting just about your hips, guiding you as you shop and spend his money.

When you finally warm his bed, he cancels all plans the next day to ensure he has proper time to explore your body.

He memorized every freckle, every stretch mark, every scar. He doesn't stop until he knows every ticklish spot, every spot that makes your toes curl.

His love languages are gifts and physical touch, so once you opened that box, you opened a whole can of worms.

You are pulled into unused bedrooms, his office, Azriel and Cassian's offices when they're away, supply closets. He doesn't stop until he's tasted you on every surface and in every room.

I wish you luck during the frenzy. He won't stop until you are throughly spent and bred. How else will he ensure you never leave him?

Cassian

He had admired you while you two were growing up together in Windhaven.

He watched you do your chores and got his ass kicked for it more than he wants to admit.

Even at a young age, Cassian courted you. He didn't care that the flowers he was pulling were weeds. He still turned them into a bouquet or had Rhysand's mother weave them into your hair.

That didn't change as you two grew older together. By 18, it was known you were his, and by that point, everyone knew not to fuck with what's Cassian's.

He wouldn't touch you until your chores were done, wanting to spare you what little pain he could from your father's heavy hand.

Cassian wasn't respectful with his hand placement. The male has always had high sex drive, and he found his match in you.

You and Cassian shamelessly fucked in places that had your dear mother crying. The weapon storage shed. The forest. The mess hall once it was empty.

It was no shock to anyone, especially not you and Cassian, when the bond snapped right as he was leaving for the first war with Hybern.

When he came home to you and took you to Velaris, all bets were off. Rhys settled you two into the House of Wind, Azriel into the Riverhouse, and he took the townhouse.

The two of them never flew to the House of Wind without warning you or Cassian first. To do so had them risking walking in on you riding or Cassian with his head thrown back as you screamed for him.

Cassian can't stop touching you. He can't stop talking about you. He can't stop being in love with you. Even if the only way he knows how to show it is physically.

Not that you're complaining. You didn't need to walk anywhere today.

Azriel

Azriel worshipped you the second Rhysand's mother brought you back to the cabin.

Your voice became salvation, your scent became home, and your hands healed part of him he did not even know was broken.

The bond snapped young for you two. He had just turned 18, and you were still 16. He took his distance then, allowing you to explore the world much to your own protests. You understood why after two years.

It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. He allowed you to grow without his influence, despite how painful it had to have been watching you with other males.

Your father sees this whole relationship and mateship as a benefit to him alone. He takes you and Azriel to Velaris during the war.

He unknowingly allowed the relationship to go to heights he had already said were off limits to Azriel.

The number of times you had to mask your scent during dinner because a shadow was all too happily playing in your skirts was almost comical.

The relationship between you two is never able to go beyond heated kisses, stolen touches, and lingering glances.

Even in death, Azriel comes to you, speaking to you when he's lost and lonely.

He still obsessed over you, wishing he had more time, wishing he was with you. But the pain lessened.

Being ripped from the Cauldron by Amren was painful and terrifying.

You had a new body, modeled after your old one. You were slightly taller this time, and your face was still able to send males to war.

As much as it pained Azriel, he allowed Rhysand to be the first to you. He allowed your brother to be the one to hold you as you cried, confused and asking where you were. He let Mor go next, then Amren listening as the ancient being told you it was okay and that your purpose was not finished, so she was told to bring you back. Cassian dropped to his knees before you. Holding you as he apologized.

But Azriel waited. He walked beside you in silence as you were taken to the warcamp.

All bets were off once you were in his tent.

You don't know if you rushed to him first or if he came to you, but that reunion kiss was rough. Too much teeth and tongue. Tears falling down both of your faces.

He took things slowly with you. Your first life granted you powers like the world had never seen before, and this time was no different. You could move the stars at will, silence the connect other fae shared with their magic without even having to loosen a breath.

It was final confirmation of what many already knew. Rhysand was high lord due to his cock, not his power, and that sheer fact had Azriel on his knees for you once you were ready.

You are his living goddess, and Azriel is always ready to worship.

Lucien

Eris saved both of you. He had sent you to Spring long before you could be ripped from the market in autumn.

Lucien joined you soon after. Crying to the Mother in gratitude the second you came out from hiding behind Tamlin.

You were a rare breed of lesser fae. Your kind looked similar to the high fae by all means, but your kind had the ability to communicate with every living being.

You knew the names of each tree, of each flower, every critter. You could hear the winds whispers, see the colors he asked you to, and tell them all the meaning.

Your kind had been hunted for years, much like the shadowsingers.

It made Lucien almost unbearable when it came to his protective streak. But so did this new freedom.

Lucien is shamelessly in love with you. As an emissary, he gets to travel places you will never see. But he always brings you something back because you are always on his mind.

He brings you ornaments from Winter, jewelry from Day, sea shells from Summer, clothing from Dawn.

Lucien will speak about you for hours on end. It makes Tamlin crazy at times, but seeing how naturally you two fit together quickly makes the sting of jealousy fade.

Lucien purposes under a willow tree. Your absolute favorite one that you go to for guidance. Even if the bond does not snap, he wants you as his wife.

And boy does being his wife make things interesting.

He is suddenly growling at any male who studies your body for too long. Holding you from behind at all times. Showering you with even more things.

The bond snaps after Amarantha mutilated him. It snapped as you were nursing him back to health. Reminding him his beauty has nothing to do with why you love him, but instead it is his kindness and his soul.

You two become mutually obsessed from that point forward. More often than not, you will send a bird to shit on someone if they harm Lucien in any sense.

You both can not keep your hands to yourself anymore. It was as if that scar actually sealed his place as the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes on.

He sends you away to the forest when the 50 years is coming to a close. Not caring if he dies for it.

You would be his last thought if he did. And during that second trial, you were his only thought.

Everything he had done was for your safety, and if he ever saw you again, he would whisper those one thousand words he wanted to say as he laid between your legs, and he would never let go again.

Eris

Childhood best friends to lovers? Anyone? Anyone?

Well... kind of childhood best friends.

You met Eris when he was 6 and you were 5.

Your parents were one of two shadow hound breeders, and Beron was desperate to get his hands on one of your family's pups specifically.

You had this special talent that you could use from the moment you were able to. You seemed to know which hounds needed to be bred together to create the most powerful litters. And you did it all without inbreeding.

Your family quickly took hold of the other breeder's dogs, and you, your father's pride and joy, made their lives better.

Eris becomes obsessed with you from that day forward, and Beron knows it. Hence why you two are married at the young ages of 18 and 17.

Eris is madly in love and in private is very expressive of that.

He shows his love through praise.

"You look absolutely stunning today, little fox," is a common greeting as he brings you a tray of fresh fruits, eggs, breakfast meat of choice, and toast.

The sap cuts your toast into a heart.

He's a hopeless romantic, and it kills you that no one is able to see how he is with you outside of his mother amd your parents who are waiting for the day they get to go to war for him.

The second you end up pregnant, Eris's love turned into true obsession and not the healthy normal kind between partners.

He becomes possessive and overprotective. Your suddenly moved to one of his private hunting cabins with a guard detail and private healer assigned to you and you only.

He has to have his hands on you at all times. The only exception is when he is at the Forest House.

It is love. You know that deep down, but Gods, you are lonely.

You understand why this is happening, though, when he shows up beaten and bruised, limping into your arms for any sense of comfort.

His obsession is your safety. The safety of the lives you carry.

Once you birth his twins, the game changes. The obsession is now on him not being able to get enough of your new body.

Your mom body lives rent-free in Eris's mind. He's stroked himself in his office to the thought of your fuller breasts and supple hips more times than he'd like to admit.

He loves to squeeze your hips, loving the soft feel of them.

He would have gone to war for you beforehand. He does it now.

He wants to see a crown of leaves and berries on your head, sparkling but failing in comparison to the gem he has in his bed.

He crowns you high lady during his coronation.

You are his, and he is yours, regardless of that bond never snapping. You two do not need the Mother nor the Cauldron to decide you are each other's equal and other halves. You already know.

Tamlin

You knew you were Tamlin's mate long before Amarantha. You were a well kept secret, hidden out of fear of Rhysand coming to take you as well.

You made home in The Middle. Becoming friends with the Weaver was interesting, but you two forged a relationship. You bring her food, she offers protection, so yes. You kept her fed.

Tamlin comes back for the second he allows Rhysand to take Feyre.

You two spend the week she is there in bed, fucking like rabbits until he was content.

It's dead silence when Feyre comes back. He had expected Rhysand to keep her, not hold up his end of the bargain, and he also believed their relationship to be over.

Rhys was an idiot if he thought Tamlin couldn't scent the mating bond. He was willingly handing her over, and the High Lord had to aggressively whisper that to Rhys one night in his office to get it through the other male's thick skull.

It took Tamlin tugging the bond for you for Rhysand to understand.

The Lord of Night was almost disgusted by the love and mutual need you and Tamlin shared. He felt the two of you marked him in the scent of roses and petrichor.

The two of them sat Feyre down 3 days later, and she eagerly went to Night after Tamlin finally got her to understand that while he loves her, he cannot help her and love her the way Rhys will be able to.

That freed you two up, much to Ianthe's anger, to make up for lost time all over again.

He lives between your thighs. No one can change my mind, but Tamlin is a munch, and he cannot get enough of the taste of you.

When you find out Ianthe put her hands on him, on Rhysand, on Lucien you and Feyre become a force. Ianthe selling Feyre's sisters to Hybern had been enough for you and Tamlin to begin the process of banishing her. But much to Tamlin's delight, this made you feral.

Feyre crippled the priestess, and you dragged her by her bleach and tone blonde hair to the Weaver, smiling to Stryga.

"Feyre's apology present for stealing the ring, dear friend." Feyre held a breath, fingers squeezing your wrist as the Weaver moved, scenting Ianthe's fear, blood, and tears.

"And what is this?"

The two of you look at each other, mirrored cruel smiles before speaking in unison, "Dinner."

Tamlin, Lucien, and Rhysand watched from a distance as Feyre retreated to them, and you stayed to ensure the priestess did not somehow escape. "I can see why you love her," Rhysand started slowly. "She's-"

"Everything," Tamlin stated softly. "She is everything."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

690 notes · View notes

etz-ashashiyot · 1 month

Text

You know how sometimes arguing a point is losing?

Like if you engage the argument at all you are inherently putting up for debate things that should never be up for debate and the argument itself is degrading?

You see this with interpersonal gaslighting:

A gaslighter doesn’t simply need to be right. They also need for you to believe that they are right. In stage one, you know that they’re being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate – your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage one, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate. In stage two, you consider your gaslighter’s point of view first and try desperately to get them to see your point of view as well. You continue to engage because you’re afraid of what their perspective of you says about you. Winning the argument now has one objective : proving that you’re still good, kind, and worthwhile. In stage three, when you’re hurt, you first ask, “What’s wrong with me?” You consider their point of view as normal. You start to lose your ability to make your own judgements. You become consumed with understanding them and seeing their perspective. You live with and obsess over every criticism, trying to solve it.

[Source]

But you also see this on a broader societal level, with people asking unfathomably awful questions about minority groups, such as:

[Source]

It should go without saying, but no group of people should be forced to explain that yes, they really are real people, dickheads. The question doesn't deserve an answer; it deserves at best a disgusted eyeroll + "Are you a Nazi?" and at worst a punch to the face.

There is also the related phenomenon of the "when did you stop beating your wife?" type questions. The question is framed as a yes or no question, but the real answer for the innocent is: "I've never beaten my wife and never would." But even that answer still dignifies the question with a real response and puts the idea in the mind of the listener that hey maybe that's a real possibility and this guy is lying because of course he wouldn't just admit that. Now I don't know what to believe, but I'm skeptical.

Even if he answers, doubt has been cast on his character and many people (maybe even most people) neither have the attention span to listen to his full counter argument and supporting evidence nor are invested enough in strangers' lives to take the time to dig for facts on their own. Critically, it comes from a good impulse that shouldn't be repressed or taken too far in the opposite direction; namely, that we want to believe survivors and make it socially acceptable to speak out about abuse.

This leaves us with the uncomfortable reality that balancing believing survivors and whistle-blowers against not automatically believing allegations that very well may be false and/or in bad faith is a very tricky balancing act indeed. Because of this, people tend to struggle with taking survivors seriously and with presuming innocence until guilt has actually been proven, both. And as for the latter, this is at least partially due to the same psychological factors underlying the Don't Think of an Elephant problem.

Why am I discussing this?

See the thing is that these types of discourse have all been used, heavily, against the Jewish community, especially since Oct 7th, but really going back hundreds of years.

If you want to be our ally, you need to be on guard for how people use this rhetoric to accuse Jews of absolutely batshit cookoo bananas allegations (like being lizard people or having horns, or secretly running the world, or killing Christian babies to use their blood in our matzah, etc. etc.) and get away with it. Now obviously if so many people weren't already racist towards Jews as a people and had a vested interest in maintaining their supercessionist cultural worldview from Christianity and Islam, it would be a lot harder for this to work. Alas, the past 2000 years has created a bit of a snowballing effect.

This culminates in the effect described so well by Sartre:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

— Jean-Paul Sartre

Right now, Jews are facing extreme levels of these types of rhetorical abuse, and are receiving very little help in the way of pushback.

We have to stop trying to explain ourselves and start just naming these tactics instead.

#antisemitism #המצב™️#jumblr #how to argue

449 notes · View notes

rafesfavgirl · 2 months

Text

jj maybank headcanons

pairing: bf!jj x fem!reader

context: jj maybank as your boyfriend.

words: 657

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. daddy issues, marijuana use, alcohol use, abandonment issues, attachment issues, physical and mental abuse, SMUT

jj's 100% the definition of a "golden retriever" boyfriend.

your relationship doesn't start out all sunshine and rainbows at first, though.

y'all were definitely a friends with benefits to lovers story.

at first, y’all kept it completely physical because you were both afraid of getting too attached and hurting each other.

jj felt like this, especially. he just didn’t think he was good enough for you.

but even when y’all were just fucking, he’d do the sweetest things for you. including making sure you were all cleaned up afterwards.

once you started dating though, the sweetness only amplified.

he doesn’t have much money, but he ALWAYS brings you flowers that he’s picked from somewhere—whether that be some kook’s garden, the country club, or even outside the chateau.

you are his absolute number one priority and the most important thing in his life.

you’re his ray of sunshine.

whenever things get bad at home with luke, you’re the first person he comes to.

when luke hits him and he shows up at your door with bruises, you nurse him back to health.

when luke talks down to him and makes him feel like a piece of shit, you reassure him that he’s not.

“you’re perfect, j. it’s not your fault.”

he’s terrified of losing you.

sometimes he thinks you’re going to see all his flaws and leave him just like his mom did. you always tell him otherwise, though.

“i’m not going anywhere, baby.”

when he gets anxious after all the pogues start fighting, you squeeze his hand three times and that makes him feel better.

he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve you.

he always takes you out on adventurous little dates—and sometimes, y’all get in trouble for it.

you’re his number one surfing buddy.

he was the one who taught you how to surf.

your family’s the family he’s never had.

he loves when your family invites him over for dinner and he gets to play with your little siblings, who absolutely adore him.

when you and the pogues smoke together, his favorite thing is when you hold the joint out in front of him and let him take a hit that way.

you always help him with his party trick when he tries to do it on the hms pogue.

you’re the only one who can keep up with him when it comes to taking shots and drinking. john b, pope, and kie always tap out.

sometimes you get insecure about his close friendship with kie, but he always assures you that it’s only you.

“i love you. you got that?”

his favorite nicknames for you are mama, princess, baby, and baby girl.

you’re the only one he’s ok with addressing him by his full name—jesse james.

don’t think everything’s perfect though, sometimes you fight too.

especially about guns. and jj getting into fights.

you always nurse him back to health regardless, but you hate when he gives in and scrambles with whoever.

fights are non-negotiable if someone says shit about you, though.

not only will he go against your wishes about him fighting, but he’ll make sure he wins.

speaking of jealousy, it doesn’t happen often, but he definitely still gets jealous every now and then. and he loves reminding you that you're his.

“you’re mine, princess.”

he’ll show you that in bed too.

and since it's jj, he's an ABSOLUTE FREAK in the sheets, and kinky as hell too.

he'll tie you up, eat you out, and make you cum over and over again until you beg him to stop.

he loves bending you over and fucking you while giving your ass a little smack.

he chokes you occasionally, but prefers pulling your hair.

he will lick anything off of you and tease your clit until you're squirming.

he definitely has a daddy kink too.

when you give him head, he loves giving you facials.

and his favorite position is your legs on his shoulders.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

#jj maybank #jj #jj obx #jj outerbanks #soft jj #cute jj #cute jj maybank #jj headcanons #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #jj smut #jj fluff #jj hcs #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank x reader #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n

585 notes · View notes

squirmhoney · 3 months

Text

TO BREAK A WIFE | NAOYA ZEN'IN

Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion. Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con Dub con. Spanking. Loss of virginity. Violence against reader. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. 18+ A/N: This is part 2 to a little series so if you haven’t read that, read it first.

AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MASTER LIST HERE

Naoya dragged you out of that ceremony, forcing you to practically run to keep up with him.

You knew where he was leading you to and when you reached his chambers, you were just ready for the bedding part to be over with.

But it felt like he had something else planned, leaving you alone for what felt like hours to stew in your own thoughts.

You wished you had taken something, had drunk more after the ceremony, something that would leave you inebriated or completely incapacitated before this happened. Something that meant you wouldn’t have to remember this day for the rest of your life.

The air felt still when the bedroom door opened again. All you could wish for was in that moment was for the bed to swallow you whole, for anything to save you from being there. It was like everything was slowing down as he made his way towards you, only making you more aware of how fast your heart was thudding in your chest.

You hadn’t even moved from the position he had left you in, still sitting at the edge of the bed and you only wished you had moved as he came to stand in front of you, his whole body towering over your frame.

His fingers touched the tip of your chin, lifting your gaze to look up at him. The first thing you noticed as your eyes trailed his frame was his lack of clothing, only a thin silk robe covering him now.

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” Naoya confessed, hand cupping your cheek.

You parted your lips, wanting to ask so many questions but not knowing where to begin or what the right thing would be to say.

But he seemed to have all the answers.

“Not the marriage part,” he shook his head at that, a smile creeping on his face. “That hadn’t really been planned at all.” His hand trailed down the column of your neck, stopping at the edge of your shiromuku. “Take it off.”

Your fingers fumbled with the front, struggling to untie it. It was thick in layers and there was a slight tinge of hope that they’d protect you.

But you didn’t need to worry about that, not when Naoya dropped down, kneeling in front of you just to be able to tear the material from your body.

You had always known he was strong but to have the material torn to shreds in a matter of seconds by his hands, had you terrified.

You had always thought you had been a strong sorcerer, if you weren’tNaoya would have never even considered you as a marriage prospect. But you knew that it was no match to take him, his strength alone would be enough to hold you down.

He took a step back when the robe fell apart, eyes scanning over your frame as you desperately tried to cover it.

“Hair down,” he demanded.

You listened, snatching the pins from your hair and placing them by your side.

“Better.”

“Why?” You finally asked him, cracking under the pressure of his cold stare. “Why did you decide to marry me?”

He stalked over towards you, making you fall onto the bed as you backed away.

You knew he could see the fear in your eyes, he was feeding off of it, and it only grew as he started to untie his robe.

“I never desired you when we were younger,” he began to speak again, taking his time to undress himself. “Who would desire such a disobedient brat?” He shook his head, jaw clenching as he remembered something. “But after that day when you came screaming at me about your stupid friend- What was her name again?”

“Hana.” Her name set something off in you, a burning fire your parents had pleaded you to leave behind with your teenage years. The version of you that Naoya knew.

“Ah yes,” he flicked his fingers as if it was all coming back to him. “Hana.”

His robe dropped from his body then and your eyes were quick to look away.

“Look at me.”

His voice was stern and you found yourself unable to do anything but obey.

“That’s it.”

He moved then, crawling onto the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he made his way over to you. He stopped by your feet, taking your ankle in his hand as he examined it.

“When you came screaming at me because of her. I thought to myself how could someone ever want to marry a bitch like this.”

His hand slithered up your subtle skin, slow and calculated, fingers tickling your calf all the way up to your mid thigh.

“But then my brain got to thinking, how fun it would be to train the brat out of you. To completely destroy you.”

His fingers dug into your tender flesh and you winced.

His eyes looked at you again, the darkness still there but there was now an insatiable hunger that lingered along with it. Almost pained in nature as if he’d be completely empty if he didn’t feed it.

Your hand grabbed his wrist, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you gasped, “Please, it hurts.”

He released his hold, trailing his hand up until it was just below your cunt.

“To break you apart,” he continued, fingers grazing your lips. “And to build you back together again.”

You fell into the pillows as he hovered his body over you.

“But I think your parents managed that one for me.”

When his fingers moved, your hand reached out on instinct to push him away.

“Or did they?” He was snickering now, snatching your hand away as he shoved it against your side. “I don’t think they did. I think she’s still there.”

Your other hand went to push him away by his shoulders but then his free hand dove right between your thighs, not wasting any time.

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he was genuinely curious.

“I don’t know. Something about you being a dick and hurting my best friend,” you fumbled on the words, trying to rack your brain.

It was near impossible when he was touching you.

Especially when he lazily dragged a finger through your folds, a sickening grin reaching his lips as he brought his fingers to your face. His fingers were soaked, your fluids coating him and you stared at them in horror.

“No.” He shook his head, fingers retreating back down. “After all of that.”

You remembered. “I fear for the woman who ends up marrying you.”

“Do you fear for yourself, Y/N?”

His fingers slipped into your walls now, not bothering to take their time to stretch you out. He forced two of his thick fingers in, not listening to how your walls were fighting against the intrusion.

“No, I think you wanted this all along.”

“I never wanted this,” you hissed, thighs clamping around his hand.

This didn’t anger Naoya like you thought it would, after all he hated disobedience. Instead it seemed to please him and he was grinning as he bound your hands to the bed, tying them to his wooden headboard.

“There you are,” he chuckled, breath fanning against your skin as he tied your hands.

You wriggled around, trying to make it impossible but you knew it was a game you had already lost.

“I guess I’ll get to break you after all.”

“You’re sick,” You spat at him, leg kicking him.

When he caught your leg, his smile finally faded, twisting into a deep scowl.

“Do that again and I’ll break it,” Nayoa threatened, before he flipped you over.

He moulded your body into whichever shape he found fit, burying your face into the pillows with your add stick up for him to see.

You hated not being able to see what he was doing, having to wait for his touch in whichever form it came in.

“Does it make you happy fighting back?” Naoya questioned, hand rubbing over the skin of your ass. “Make you feel slightly better about yourself. I mean we both know you’re not going to win.”

“I should have fought back from the start,” you told him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up here. I could have ended up with Haru.”

His hand was sharp as it was brought down against your cheek, not just once, but several times.

You screamed at the feel of him breaking your skin, he wasn’t even holding back as he hit you till you ass was raw red.

“I’m not a jealous man, Y/N,” Naoya told you, slowing his pace as he took his time between smacking each cheek. “But you belong to me now and I’ll make you very aware of that. Trust me.”

“Please,” you sobbed into the pillows.

“Please, what?” You barely heard over his brutalising hand coming against your ass a few more times.

“Please stop,” you cried out, trying to move away from him.

He chuckled at that, pausing his assault as if to only hear your pathetic cries. “Now why would I do that?”

“Fuck you,” you spat, defiance still lingering there.

“Oh you will,” he hummed before shoving his fingers in you again.

This was a different kind of torture, one mixed with pain and pleasure as he forced your walls to accommodate his thick fingers.

In some ways you wanted this to be as painful as possible, to remind you who was doing this to you. But it hurt so much you just found yourself begging for him to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded with him. “I’m so sorry, Naoya.”

It was the first time you had said his name and you think you both realised that.

You couldn’t tell if he hated it or enjoyed it, only slowing down his brutal pace of his fingers for you.

“You're so wet down there,” he pointed out, fingers toying with you know. “I just don’t believe you when you say you don’t like this.”

A new feeling seemed to seep into your skin at that realisation. He had abused you, taunted you and was about to use you, and yet you were dripping around his fingers. You liked it.

You couldn’t quite put your tongue on what this feeling was at first, not until he spoke again.

“Pathetic really.”

You were pathetic. A humiliated mess.

Naoya was doing what he had always dreamed of, according to his confession earlier. He was breaking you down and you were sure by the end of it there really would be nothing left.

When he slipped a third finger in, your walls seemed to be more willing than before, sucking him in. You couldn’t even help yourself as a moan slipped from your throat, his fingers finally feeling good as they massaged your walls.

Naoya slid his fingers out of you without warning and you bit down a whine at how empty you suddenly felt.

“I think you’re thoroughly prepared,” he said, flipping you onto your back.

He towered over you in an instance and he didn’t even give you time to think before he was crushing his lips against yours. His lips were bruising, anything but soft as he tried to inhale you.

It made you wonder if he had truly fantasised about this, if there had been times he actually caught himself thinking about you.

Naoya had been a man that went through women like there had been an endless supply. You never once heard of him fuck a girl more than once, not even in more recent years.

But the way he kissed you now and the things he had confessed about you earlier, made you believe that he had been fantasising about this a bit deeper than he was letting on.

You don’t just marry a woman because you want to break her. If he truly wanted to do that, he could have had his way with you and still let you marry Haru. No one would have even batted an eye at that.

The Zen’in clans delusions ran deep like it’s misogynistic values and you were sure they would have called you privileged to even be touched by Naoya.

When you sharply moaned into Naoya, you were brought back to reality. The kiss had sent your mind reeling, snatching you of all the air from your lungs, leaving you unable to think.

It’s why you hadn’t even noticed how he had situated himself between your thighs. You only seemed to catch on when you felt the tip of him flick against your clit.

“You like that?” Naoya teased, finally pulling away from you.

Your mind could barely focus on what he was saying, eyes too drawn to him sliding his cock against your folds.

“You’re literally dripping onto my bed,” Naoya tutted, stroking himself with his hand. You could see the wetness between his fingers as he lubed himself up, the sight of it made you hate yourself even more. “Making such a mess, Y/N.”

You wondered if this is what the girls before you had felt like in the moment. Not the sickening feeling at yourself or the hatred you felt for the man you now called husband.

Most of them had been the ones to practically offer themselves to him. Had their minds been reeling as he pressed the tip of himself at their entrance, had this been the feeling they cried over the next day.

You weren’t sure but the feeling made your skin feel ablaze and you wanted to scream at yourself to make it stop.

When Naoya ducked his head down again to capture your lips, you were twisting your head away.

Although you couldn’t see him as you stared at the wall, you knew he wasn’t impressed, feeling his body tense above you.

It’s like you had forgotten about how cruel he could be but you were suddenly reminded as brought his hand down against your cunt.

He didn’t even seem pleased to do it as you looked back at him, lips drawn in a thin line as if he was almost tiring of your resistance.

Then he leant down again, eyes scanning your face as if he was questioning you to dare resist him again.

You didn’t. When his lips touched yours, you accepted them, sliding your lips across his.

It was a distraction, keeping your mind focused on his kiss that you forgot momentarily what he was doing down there. But it didn’t last long, Naoya swallowing your protests as he finally slid into your walls.

The feel of him inside you had you wincing, closing your eyes in some sort of hope to drown out the pain. You couldn’t help yourself as your nails clawed at the head board, urgently trying to ground yourself.

Naoya, however, was clearly enjoying it. His lips parted ever so slightly as he sighed. His eyes half lidded as he took the sight of you breathless underneath him.

You were glad once the burning sensation started to fade, being taken over by a pleasurable bliss that crawled all over you. Especially when Naoya was barely focusing on you anymore, picking up his pace. It was almost as if eyes were looking right through you as he lifted himself up.

This was how you imagined he treated all of the women he had been with before as if they weren’t truly there. Like they weren’t more than just a glorified hole that to him.

He became completely oblivious to your sharp moans and soft whimpers even when you slipped out his name. He was completely lost in his own euphoric feeling, grabbing your hips with both hands as he used it as leverage, to rut faster into you.

“Wait,” you had practically screamed at him when he started to pound into you. But your words were quickly lost on lewd noises being torn from the back of your throat.

While Naoya became completely lost in his mission to please himself, you became lost in the tightening feeling in your stomach. You couldn’t even think properly as it grew, each thrust of his cock was stroking something in your walls that you had never felt.

You had touched yourself before, made yourself orgasm several times but this had you babbling incoherent sentences. You wondered if Naoya could even hear you over his own thoughts.

You felt the need to warn him, to tell him something wasn’t right but it was near impossible with your hands tied behind your back and his name dying on your tongue. But his attention started to drift back to you when your cunt began clenching around him, begging for some sort of release.

“I think you’re about to cum,” he chuckled darkly, eyes drawing in on your face.

The feeling only continued to grow as you felt his attention on you, lapping every expression on your face. He was hovering over you again and for some reason you seemed to believe his smile was egging you on, waiting for you to finally snap.

You didn’t think Naoya was a person to really care about another’s pleasure but when his hips started to violently hit against yours, you were sure he was desperate for you to cum.

So you did.

The coil finally snapped inside of you as his thrusts got deeper, making your back arch off the bed. You were squirting all over him, your fluids literally hitting his abs and you were sure he’d be pissed at the audacity of you cumming all over him.

But he wasn’t.

He didn’t even seem to be paying attention down there, entranced by the sight of your face as he continued to bury himself in you.

Was it because you had finally snapped? Finally been broken enough for him to build you up again?

You couldn’t decipher any of this as you looked into his eyes and in reality you didn’t even want to. Instead you focused on your shallow breathing, trying to calm down the prickling sensation that had formed across your body. But that was near impossible with the way Naoya was continuing to drill into you.

Your cunt was still in overdrive with the way he was going, squeezing him as if it didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop or not, so hooked on the sensation he was giving you that you found yourself numb to it all.

“Fuck, would you stop that,” he groaned, fingers digging into the bones of your hips.

“I can’t- I can’t help it,” you choked up.

“It’s like your pussy is begging me to cum,” he hissed, pressing his forehead against yours. Even though he sounded angry about it, he didn’t look angry and you weren’t sure how to take it. “Do you want me to cum inside you?”

You didn’t know what to say, too scared to say the wrong thing.

Luckily he answered for you, spilling into you with a few sloppy thrusts.

It was only when he stilled on top of you, both of you barely able to look at each other did reality start seeping back in. All you wanted to do was shut it out though, clearly in no right state of mind to be thinking about anything other than what was taking place in these four walls.

You wanted to sleep, you had thought, eyes fluttering shut when Naoya finally had left you alone on the bed. And when you finally felt the restraints around your hand loosen, you believed sleep was going to be easy.

However Naoya seemed to have other plans, yanking your frame back onto him as crawled into the space behind you.

“Did you seriously think we were done?” he whispered in your ear, cock lining up with your entrance. “I don’t think I have fully broken yet.”

TAGLIST: @mammons-wife @integers

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

503 notes · View notes

the-scythes-pen · 4 months

Text

Bleeding Pastels (Kabukimono x Reader)

The puppet's life is colourful; while tainted and stained with a dark smudge in the middle- originating from his creation- at least it won't discolour the world he lives in...

right?

Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader

Kabukimono era

Canon-divergent. Some abuse briefly described later on. Symbolism-heavy. Read between the rainbow to find the shadows that the light casts.

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

I. Pink

The day that the boy first saw you, he almost mistook you for a god.

You sat alone underneath wispy sunlight that broke through the gaps in the bright pink petals above you. Gently fluttering down around you, picking up with the occasional spring breeze; sakura petals adorned your atmosphere and lay like a bed around your form.

The shade of pink that dusted the boy's cheeks was only somewhat darker then the beautiful pale pink of the sakura and it's flowers.

The boy could only stare in awe, lost in his own world of reverence and admiration- that was until a beautiful, soft voice pulled him out of his head.

"And who might you be?"

The puppet blinks. Your bright, vivid irises held him captive among the falling blossoms; his pale pink lips open and close without a sound- the boy unable to find a response.

You laugh. Gods, that sound makes something within him stir. It steals his artificial breath and replaces it with something so soft and light that he does not dare to look too deep into.

"Well? There's room for both of us here, if you want." You say with a smile, palm patting the soft grass beside you.

It takes a moment for the puppet to register your words, but as soon as he does it's like a string has been pulled taut- and he longs to loosen the tension that has formed. He makes his way over to you, his knees folded underneath him as he merely stares at you silently.

"You're that boy that guy brought with him a couple days ago, right? What's your name?"

For once, the puppet speaks.

"I... Don't know." His voice is soft, light, and almost somewhat childish. He sounds so innocent and boyish.

Your eyes wander down his face and trail down his arms. He doesn't say anything, but he can see you stop and stare at the joints in the middle of his arms; the ones attached with a ball and some hinges.

"Hey, you're not human, are you?" You say with curiosity in your tone, as you pull yourself onto your knees to take a closer look. Your hands are soft as they take ahold of his wrist and hand, pulling it out to a stretch as you stare in wonder at his unblemished skin and the way his arm connects to the rest of his body.

The puppet watches as a bright pink petal flutters down against the untainted sky and lands delicately in your hair.

"I hope you forgive me for oogling you; I've just never met someone like you before..."

Your eyes flicker up to meet his wide-eyed stare; and you offer him a smile as bright as the sunlight above.

"Your skin is so soft, and the way your elbows are designed is so cool! Are your knees like this too?"

The puppet doesn't say anything; instead unable to find an appropriate response as all he can do is nod his head.

"Really? That's so cool!" You say with wonder to match his own.

"I'm (Y/N). I-"

Your mouth hangs open, but no words escape you as you watch the puppet's hand slowly move atop your head. Delicate fingers pluck what his eyes are so intensely trained on from your hair, before bringing it down infront of the both of you to see.

"This... was on you."

You blank at the pink petal between his fingers, and for a moment the puppet's mind whirs to life with questions of whether he had done something wrong, but you soon snap out of your trance with a laugh. The boy sits still, confused about your reaction.

"Thank you. You don't have to show it to me though." You say before snatching the soft object from him and swiftly placing it atop his own head.

You laugh at the expression on his face from your actions, and the puppet finds the wonderful sound brings a smile to his face. He doesn't quite understand why you did that, or why you're laughing, but he finds your joy infectious all the same.

II. Purple

Over time, the people of Tatarasuna as well as the puppet himself learned how he differed and how he was similar to the humans around him.

He felt pain and bled just like they did. Yet, he didn't seem to have a heart. He didn't need to eat or drink either, but he claimed that he could and that he wanted to do so to 'become more human'.

The puppet- now called Kabukimono by his peers- also didn't quite understand social ques and what was wrong or right. After finding out that humans would often disrobe and bathe when they became dirty, the puppet had tried to do the same in the nearby stream of village. That little event had a few people swiftly ushering him to put his clothes back on while laughing awkwardly; as if he was a child who didn't truly know what he was doing.

Which, in all honestly, was pretty much what he was. A child who knew nothing about the world or people around him. But he was learning.

The pastel purple clothing that he was so often seen in flowed freely in the breeze; the smell of lavender was picked up by the summer wind off his freshly washed robes and filled his nostrils with the calming scent. It was the smell that adorned him whenever you were the one responsible for washing his clothes (as you often took turns among the other villagers to look after him).

He had grown to love that scent.

"Just... like... this." You said as you dragged the teeth of the comb through his wet hair; letting the Kabukimono watch your actions through the mirror.

"Think you got it?" He nods at your question, and you hand him the comb.

His hand is steady as he mimics your previous movements; dragging the teeth of the light purple comb through the strands of dark indigo atop his head. After a few strokes, he pulls the comb away; a deep violet staining the teeth as if to remind him that he wasn't like you.

You smile at him. "Perfect! Just like that. Now you're all set to wash yourself next time you need to."

The Kabukimono stares down at the comb in his hands; staring down at the violet that taints the pastel shade. You had gotten him this comb, it was one of the first objects he had ever owned. And now, because of him, it was stained a dark purple from the dye that was used for his colour- that still coated his hair.

And yet, the same dark stain that now marred his gift from you had dyed your palms a similar shade to that of the comb- a bright, pastel purple. Originally, he had panicked and apologized profusely for staining you, for tainting you, but you merely had laughed and said you didn't mind. That it would go away eventually.

And while others wore gloves when taking care of him and his hair, you didn't. You let your fingertips run through the dark locks and dance across the top of his forehead; you let him feel the warmth and softness of your touch as you scrubbed the dirt and dust that had accumulated in his hair. You let his colour stain you; and somehow, you managed to make the dark purple such a bright and beautiful shade of lavender once it touched your skin.

"My... arms hurt. Can you do this for me?" He says quietly, turning towards you and holding the comb back up to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling in adoration at the Kabukimono's barely-concealed lie.

You had done a lot to take care of him and teach him about various things; he knew that lying was 'bad' and that he shouldn't do it. But even so, on rare occasion- like right now- he would say something small that didn't match what you already knew. And it would always end up with you taking a little extra care of him then you otherwise would have.

You knew you shouldn't let him keeping lying, but he was so bad at telling them, and it was adorable how he yearned for attention... so you couldn't make yourself scold him for his behaviour. You let this lie slide like all the others.

"Alright, alright. Come on then, turn around."

You can see the corners of his mouth tip upward in a smile, however subtle, as he did as he was told and let you run both the comb and your fingers through his hair.

The Kabukimono couldn't help but watch your hands. To seek glimpses of the bright purple staining on your palms that could only have been from him. He always loved when the other humans would point out your coloured hands and comment on how you practically took sole care of him with how often your hands took on the familiar shade.

Even when he wasn't by your side like a loyal puppy, it was like a part of him was still with you. Even if at first he saw the colour as a stain upon your otherwise perfect skin, you had assured him that it was harmless, told him you liked the colour, even.

You had taught him that being 'selfish' is one of the 'bad' things, and he shouldn't be 'selfish'. But if it was so 'bad', then why did it feel good? Why did it feel good to leave a piece of him with you, as if to claim you as his own human?

The teeth of the comb grew ever darker as they sorted through his indigo hair.

III. Yellow

For a being that was supposedly crafted by the hands of the god of thunder, the Kabukimono couldn't help but jump at each loud roar of lightning that dared to light up the dark night.

"Oh, Kabuki..."

The puppet was shaking; his arms wrapped around his knees as he sat staring at the floor, trying to ignore each jolt of thunder only to be hyper aware of every crash of it outside the window.

The pity in your voice somehow comforted the puppet, even more so when you kneeled beside him to pull him into a hug.

"It's ok, you're not in any danger. The Electro Archon would never hurt us."

The Kabukimono still shook. Sure, she may never hurt you, but to him- every bolt that struck the earth was searching for him; the fruit of the anger and hatred he knew his mother held for him.

Each flash of lightning lit the inside of your warm home a bright yellow. A stark contrast to the usual deep purple of the electro element he knew so well.

Your hand smoothed over his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders as you held him close. Another flash had him jump once again; burying his face into your shoulder as if to try to hide from the storm.

"Oh, hey, hey... It's ok..." You tried to soothe him, your voice gentle and low as his arms wrapped around you to hold tightly to your clothes.

Your arms wrapped around him were warm, firm, secure, as if you were the one shielding him from the tumultuous rain and deafening thunder.

"Ok, c'mon, lets go to bed."

The boy in your arms sniffled as you pushed him away from you, guiding him towards your plush bed.

"B-But... My bed..." He mumbled out, his eyes falling onto a small mat off to the side that you had done your best to make comfortable. And as shabby as it was, the Kabukimono loved it. You had made it for him, after all.

"You won't be able to sleep if you're over there, will you? This storm doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon, so... Why don't you stay with me? That way, I can protect you."

The deep purples of his eyes were wide and glossy with tears at your proposal; but he swiftly nodded and climbed onto the bed with you following suit.

The two of you got settled underneath the blankets, and the Kabukimono couldn't tell if your bed was just more comfortable then his, or if he really liked being beside you that much more then being alone. He watched as you shifted around; moving the pillow you normally slept on to rest underneath his head as you lay flat on the mattress next to him.

You smiled at him, a smile that made his chest tighten and something within his artificial body malfunction. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the side of his face, pushing his bangs out of the way of his eyes.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep? I'll be right here if you need me."

The rain was loud on the old glass of your home; a flash of lightning bringing attention to the lack of purple that the Kabukimono had so loved to see on your hands.

But the fear of the thunder triumphed over his sadness that his hair no longer stained your palms; and he couldn't help but jump at the noise that shook him to his core once again.

Trembling hands grabbed your soft, steady one and brought it up to his cheek. The Kabukimono rested your palm against his flesh, nuzzling into it even as he shook in fear. You couldn't help but pity him, the pad of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you indulged him.

"You won't leave me, right?" He says quietly, warily, as if he's afraid the storm will hear his weakness and aim straight for his non existent heart.

The smile you give him almost looks sad. But it remains as sweet as it always does nonetheless.

"Never."

"You promise?"

Another crash of thunder has him jump once again, but with your hand against his cheek, he's quick to recover.

"I promise."

He peers at you and sees no trace of malice; no trace of annoyance or deception or betrayal. All he sees is you; your beautiful smile and crinkled eyes, glistening even in the darkest of nights.

The next flash of yellow lightning that illuminates the two of you only proves to show that even against the Electro Archon herself; your light is so much brighter then anything the god could conjure to harm him.

He doesn't jump at the sudden thunder. Instead, he lets out a shaky breath and pulls you forward- bringing your head onto the pillow that you had given him before he buries his head right underneath your chin; pushing himself into your body as if he wished to become one with you.

You can't help but smile at his unintended affection. Your hands move to embrace him; to smooth over his back and run your fingers through his hair.

"It's... bad to break a promise." He mumbled into your chest. "You won't break your promise, right?"

You let out a soft chuckle, tightening your embrace as you let the boy cling to you for life.

"Of course I won't. I love you too much to hurt you like that."

Your words were accentuated with another jolt of thunder. Another flash of yellow. And then a second bolt of lightning- this time, right through the cavity where his heart would have been.

I love you.

The words repeated in his head like a prayer; and he nestled himself deeper into your embrace in an attempt to muffle his thoughts and hide the pink on his cheeks.

The innocent, pure little Kabukimono had heard the words before. Humans who were close, who kissed and slept in beds together would say it to one another. Humans who were bound for life by little bands of metal on their fingers would whisper it to eachother whenever they pleased.

His tongue burned- yearned to repeat the words back to you, but something inside of him refused. Rejected the idea of feeling the intimacy of human love... of the idea that he could be with you just like all the other humans who loved eachother.

That night, when the puppet and his human had fallen asleep, the Kabukimono found himself without a single dream.

IV. Blue

Even when the Kabukimono wasn't under your care for that day, he still hovered near to where you were.

The old woman who was tasked to care for him that day was a vile creature. One who refused to acknowledge the puppet as anything close to human; instead treating him as merely an object, a plaything, something that could do whatever she wanted of him without complaint.

Because the poor Kabukimono didn't know how.

The puppet watched from where he sat by a large bucket. His hands were filthy; red and sore from scrubbing away at the clothing that he was forced to wash by his current caretaker.

He watched as you bid farewell to your fellow villagers; a basket hung off your arm as you walked into the nearby woods.

Oh, how he longed to follow you. To see where you were off to, to accompany you and watch every move you made.

He looked down at the water in the bucket, browned with dirt and dust. Surely, the water flowing through the stream in the forest would be nice and clean, right?

He's quick to set everything aside; emptying the water into the nearby crops like he was instructed, and then following you into the forest.

It was like your presence had merely teased him; he stumbled blindly through the brush hoping that you would be found in this direction. That he could, at the very least, be able to lay his gaze upon you once more and lighten this heavy feeling in his chest.

What the Kabukimono hadn't thought about, though, was just what you may be doing out here in the forest. And what he saw when he finally approached the familiar babbling brook stole his artificial breath away- the feeling all to familiar to that time had first laid eyes upon you.

The water was a beautiful crystal blue; your clothing lay next to the stream, a telltale sign of what he had stumbled across.

You looked divine. Beautiful. The way the water ran by your bare form and dripped so deliciously from your skin had the puppet star-struck. Pink was quick to dust his pale cheeks.

Then, like an all-too-familiar flash of sickeningly-yellow thunder, a thought occurred to him.

He shouldn't be seeing this.

Sudden panic washed over him, a fear he had felt so many times before now baring it's fangs at him once more.

If you caught him, you would leave him too.

He bolted.

The trees rushed by him in a blur of green; sticks cracking beneath his feet as he retraced his path out of the forest. Birds flew and squirrels panicked as he went by them like the roaring wind; and finally he reemerged from the trees to the sight of the village before him.

He felt warm. He couldn't get the image of you out of his head. The picture of you bathing in such beautiful blue waters was ethereal. He felt his chest tighten even further at the memory.

"You damn puppet! Where have you been!?"

The Kabukimono's face paled instantly at the shrill sound.

"You thought you could just go for a stroll through the forest, huh?! You didn't even finish your chores!! And where's my water pail!?"

The voice boomed. It's origin angrily stomping up to him before grabbing his wrist so harshly, he was sure it would have bruised if he were human.

If he were human.

"You damned-... Can't you do anything right!?" The old woman shouted, dragging the shrinking boy along behind her and towards her old, decrepit house.

"I'm sorry-" He tried to speak, tried to make himself heard over the pounding in his ears.

The woman was like a constant flash of thunder; waiting for the perfect moment to strike the puppet where he stood. And this time, it looked like he was all alone in this storm.

The woman tossed open her front door before dragging the Kabukimono inside, harshly slamming the door shut before she turned to him with a wild look in her eye. The puppet looked absolutely pathetic as tears welled in the corners of his violet eyes.

She shouted at him. Cursed at him. Pushed, pulled, hit him in whatever way she felt fit to.

The Kabukimono shut his eyes, and recalled the divine scene he had stumbled across just a little while prior. He pictured you, standing within the crystal blue water of the stream, and he pictured himself standing infront of you. The sky such a rich, pale blue above the two of you as you found comfort in one another's embrace.

"Are you listening to me!?"

The puppet opened his eyes, and all he saw was blue. The world was blue, he was blue, the old woman was blue, and the constant patter of liquid splashing onto wood from his cheek was blue as well.

A sad, soulless, cold blue. The blue of loneliness and pain.

He remembered how beautiful you looked underneath the cherry blossoms that day he first met you. The shade of pale pink that so beautifully complimented the darker pink on his cheeks that day.

He remembered how tightly you held him under the flashes of yellow that threatened to consume him whole. How you told him you loved him- how you promised you would never leave him.

And he remembered the blue of the water running by your hips. The blue of the sky above, the blue of the cotton of your clothing.

The pounding in his ears was overwhelmingly loud.

A blue hand raised itself before him.

Before it could hit it's target, the pounding stopped.

Everything stopped.

V. Red

The world's colours had returned. But they were so much darker then before. As if drenched in thick shadows that clung even to the most well-lit areas.

And it was like the Kabukimono was just seeing the real world for the first time.

The green of the foliage outside had turned from a beautiful bright shade to a deep, forest colour. And even darker still were the greens inside; where moss and mildew grew along the corners of the old house, and the various stains from archons-know-what seemingly having appeared from nowhere now dotting the surroundings with the deepest shade of black.

The puppet had seen black before. But this was different. Darker. And it was like the entire world had been tainted by those stains of black.

Even the deep brown of the rotting wood below almost seemingly started turning black as a dark red seeped into it's pores.

Such a deep shade of red it was. The colour akin to the same that flowed freely from his cheek; although his was so much brighter then the vile woman who stained the floorboards.

No- if he wasn't a human, then she wasn't either. She was merely a creature, a worm- that now lie pathetically limp at his feet.

Her words, despite his attempt to drown them out, had seeped into his head regardless.

You will never be human.

You will never be wanted.

You will never be needed.

Perhaps she had been correct.

After all, she had only been repeating what he had been telling himself already.

But, if she was correct, then what did that make of the words that the other villagers had said? What, pray tell, did that make the humans themselves?

Liars. All of them. Filthy, red-stained liars.

They had never once truly cared about him. Merely tossing him scraps, at best; demanding that he do things for them and barely leaving him to fend for himself.

Barely giving him space in their village, barely caring to try and be 'polite' with him- even when they demanded that he be polite around everyone he interacted with.

At first, he just accepted it. Of course he did. The world was bright, colourful, beautiful- but now, he's seen it for what it truly is. He's seen the suffering, the pain, the lies; the shadows etched into every crevice of this forsaken world.

He knows that they had lied to him when they said they considered him a fellow human.

And you had taught him, the saint that you are, that liars are bad.

Oh, you... how beautiful you are. How wonderful and amazing and kind you are. Out of everyone in this damned, pathetic village, you had been the one to treat him like an equal. To treat him like a human.

To love him like a human.

His chest tightened at the memory of your voice above his head that night; "I love you" falling so effortlessly from your lips as you held him close.

Archons, you loved him. You promised him you would never leave him. And you had never broken your promises before.

You loved him.

Deep purple eyes fell to the human shaped insect on the floor. And a laugh bubbled up from within him.

He did something bad. Terrible. He had made the woman who hurt him stop moving.

But it felt good.

And if it felt so good, then... why stop?

He was already stained a deep, dark black. He could never go back to being as pure as you had seen him. Perhaps, he had always been this way- perhaps that's why his so called 'mother' and her fox-pet had decided to seal away what was rightfully his. The power that she had inlaid within him.

The power that now pounded so freely through him. And it seemed like the only way to silence it was to let it go.

As the puppet exited the house, a trail of red followed behind him. Electro crackled at his fingertips as he walked towards the center of the village, and he revelled in the hushed and desperate whispers of the humans he passed by.

The pounding in his ears- in his head- only grew stronger with each passing second. The crackling electro a disgusting shade of darkened, tainted yellow as it emanated from him.

And like a bolt of thunder that once had scared him so; flashes of yellow now flew through the open air and showed no mercy to the humans he was surrounded by.

Screams filled the air, filled his ears- and all he could do was laugh. Such pathetic insects, all scrambling to seek shelter from his divine wrath. It was chaotic, beautiful, as red stained the ground and painted the houses in it's corruption.

A gentle breeze kissed the cheek that had rapidly healed it's wound. With it, it brought delicate pale pink petals from the sakura trees that were so abundant in this land.

The village fell still. Nothing but the blossoms that danced on the wind dared to move; to catch the eye of the puppet-murderer.

"K-Kabuki...?"

A voice so small called out to him, stirring him from his thoughtless-thoughts.

He turned to you, and it was like your very presence made the surrounding area brighten to how it was before. Suddenly the world was perfect again; bright and happy and welcoming and loving.

Your eyes, so beautiful and vibrant, were wide and tinged with fear. Your hair was still wet- evidence of your bath, but all it served was to remind the puppet of what he had seen. Of the divinity he had been so blessed to witness.

You didn't move as he walked up to you. You couldn't. Shock had it's tight grasp on your body and mind, and you were unable to even speak at the bloody scene around you.

The puppet smiled so sweetly at you. And despite being the same smile as he had always given you, it no longer looked so innocent.

"I love you." He said, voice proud and unwavering.

Your eyes darted to meet his. He looked so...

dark.

"What...?" You couldn't even process what he said.

"You said you loved me that night, and I never said it back. I love you, (Y/N)."

"What-... what did you do..?" Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whisper, and it made the puppet smirk as his hand moved up to cup your cheek- much like how yours had once done for him.

"They were... bad. All of them. They could have hurt you, like they did to me..." The pad of his thumb spread a deep red over your skin as it rubbed your cheek. "But you love me. You promised you would never leave me. And I know you would never hurt me like they did..."

It was like his eyes had become gateways to the abyss itself; dark, devoid of life- of the boy you had once loved. Black stained his beautiful purple irises; tainted the beautiful colour with darkness and something sinister. Just like the blood that now stained your cheek.

The puppet-murderer intently watched your face drain of colour; intently watched as your pupils shrunk into pinpricks- and made note of your body starting to tremble.

He knew the signs of fear- he himself had expressed the same many times before. He knew you were scared. His chest felt like it tightened around a non-existent heart... he didn't want to see you scared. Not of him.

"...They were going to hurt you. I-I heard them. T-They were waiting for you to come back, a-and they would have... I-I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them be bad. I-I wanted to protect you..."

You still continued to tremble. It was like you had barely heard the lie he had told- but you didn't push him away when he pulled you into a cold, blood-stained embrace. And that was enough for him.

"I will... protect you. Stay with you. I will... be good for you."

...another lie. He was no longer good- he could never be good again. His soul- his hands- were now permanently stained red... a red that would be drained of colour as soon as you left his side- and he refused to be seen with that vile black ick. He refused to let you go.

It was almost sickening how swiftly he was able to return to how he was just hours ago... innocent, sweet, gentle. Even as the vibrant crimson stained his once-white flesh. Tainted him. Changed him.

As you gazed at him with a slacked-jaw expression, you could see the surrounding area- the massacred village- devoid of colour... of life. As if the puppet-murderer had drained the pinks and purples and blues and reds and it all congregated into a swirling black in the center of his beautiful indigo irises.

Was your beautiful, sweet little puppet-boy always so... heartless?

The way he pressed his lips to yours was robotic. Stiff and almost forced- but you knew that this was just his way of doing things, until he got used to it.

Until he got used to kissing you. Loving you. Tainting you.

A colourless tear cascaded down your cheek, your eyes closed as the puppet continued to kiss you as sweetly and gently as he could.

When he pulled away, he gently took your hands into his own, and looked down to see you trembling in his grasp. He noticed just how pretty your hands were covered in red.

And his violet eyes flicked up to your face, your hair- his red-stained fingers reaching up to pluck a crimson petal from your hair.

The pretty pink looked good on you, he once thought.

But he thinks you look so much better covered in red.

#reader insert #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere wanderer

508 notes · View notes

landrywrites · 11 months

Text

ethan landry — good girl

warnings: smut. porn what plot. dom ethan, vaginal penetration ( p in v ). unprotected sex. ( don’t do that ) ethan pulls out tho dw. praise kink. light teasing, dacryphilia if you squint. dumbification ( ? ) sub / dom dynamic. established relationships. basic aftercare.

let me know if i missed anything.

summary: where ethan learns that you have a praise kink, and he will never let you live it down.

, posersays: might do a part two with headcanons about this.. would you want that ? also please read my rules before requesting 🫶

ethan was currently fucking himself into you like a dog in heat. it’s been what you felt like hours in this position. you were writhing under him, tears were streaming down your face. you were so tired but ethan wasn’t satisfied. he almost never was, he basically lived buried in your cunt. and if you didn’t enjoy the way he practically manhandled you, you’d have complaints. and you did but as soon as he rubbed the tip of his cock on your wet folds, the complaints fall from your tongue with every thrust he so graciously drilled into you.

“fuck fuck fuck eth- fuck.” you were dumbed out, screaming these obscene curses at him. “language sweetheart, watch your mouth when you speak to me.” he doesn’t like your tone of voice, those curses shouldn’t be falling from your pretty lips, especially towards him of all people. even if the way you cursed went straight to his dick, he wasn’t about to deal with it. hating and loving the way those curses sounded from you.

“m’ sorry, won’t do it again.” you say dumbly, so easily, as if you weren’t cursing at him a few seconds ago. before he could even think about it he lets out a soft, “good girl, always listen so well.” and you suddenly clench around his length at the praise.

he noticed the way you’d clench your thighs as soon as he told you a simple “good job.” numerous times. you were so obvious, but you kept it to yourself not wanting him to stop praising you like that. afraid you’d gross him out, but it was actually the opposite. he’s wanted to call you that for so long but he never found the right opportunity without making it awkward, when will he find a better time than this?

a loud whine from you, only in your wet dreams he praises you like that, you’ve had countless fantasies about it. vibrator pressed up against your aching cunt at the mere thought of someone telling you that you’re ‘such a good girl.’ it’s your favorite thing to hear yet no one has ever said it to you, until now.

he stops in his thrusts. “oh? you like that? like it when i call you good girl?” he already knew the answer. just wants to tease you, force it out of you so he can abuse it. you could only shake your head, you kept trying to hide the fact you liked- no loved it but you can’t help the way you squeeze around him, body betraying you. you curse at yourself before moving your hips to get him to start fucking you again. it was painful the way you felt him throb inside of you. it made more tears fall down your face.

“nuh uh, good girls don’t do that. do they? they wait patiently to be given what they deserve.” he taunts you. there it is again, you’re clenching around him involuntarily. he’s praising you the way you’ve always dreamed of, but you can’t help but deny it. he wipes the tears from your eyes and coos at you, groaning at the way your walls are basically swallowing him in.

“answer me. do good girls do that?” he asks, voice low as he slowly starts to thrust back into you which makes you let out a another whine. “n-no, they don’t.” — “what do good girls do then?” — “they- they wait to be given what they deserve.” his slow thrusts driving you insane, but his words are only making you wetter. needier than ever before, but also wanting to hear the praise again you still and wait to be given what you deserve.

“that’s right, you’re a good girl aren’t you? my good girl?” and you swear you could’ve came based off his words alone. “say it.” he demands. “m’ your good girl.” — “that’s right, you’re my good girl. so, so good for me.” he starts thrusting back into you at the same pace he was before, if not harder. making your eyes roll back as saliva dripped down the side of your mouth. you looked so beautiful like this, all fucked out. the way the tears stained your pretty cheeks, the moans that left your swollen lips, god just everything about you.

you feel more and more tears fall down your face, your orgasm quickly approaching. he can’t last long either with the way your body is responding, so eager to please him. his bruising touch on your hips as a reminder of who’s fucking you. the scratches on his back an indicator of who’s making you feel so good, marking each other up like fucking animals.

“m- m’ gonna-” — “i know, sweet girl. i know.” — “please, please wan- wanna cum so bad.” — “that’s okay sweetheart, let it go. be a good girl and cum for me.” and so you do, your back arching beautifully against him. he keeps fucking into you letting you ride out your high before pulling out and releasing on your stomach. you’re both heavily panting, before you start laughing, throw your head back laughter. even with tears and saliva everywhere, you’re laughing.

“what are you laughing at?” he breaths out, grabbing wet wipes from the drawers next to you guys. “sorry- sorry it’s just. wow. that was so much better than i imagined. it’s funny to me, not in a bad way but like.. damn” — “was it? i didn’t pressure you too much did i?” he asks in concern as he rubs the cum off your stomach with a wipe fully before trashing it and using another to wipe your body down. you sigh at the feeling.

“no, it was perfect. loved every second of it.” — “well, i’m glad to hear that. i had a good time as well.” — “yeah i could tell.” you smile wider and him and he reciprocates. “wanna shower?” — “mm not right now, jus wanna feel you against me.” holding him close to you, he hums. “alright, but we shower in 10 minutes, gotta change the sheets too..” — “we can do that later, just let me hold you like this.” — “okay but i swear if you let me fall asleep..” — “i won’t, i won’t.. don’t like sleeping in dirty sheets anyways. let’s just stay like this for a little bit.”

“whatever you want then, i love you so much. you know that?” he says softly, you giggle against his hair. “i do, i love you so much more.” you guys just talk about the experience, he teases you some more but not harshly. after you guys shower and clean up, change the sheets and everything you guys drift off to sleep, holding each other softly through the night.

, posersays: hope you liked it 🙈

2K notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 4 months

Text

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips.

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness.

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged.

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug.

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help.

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss.

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him.

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian.

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title.

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would.

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes.

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously.

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely.

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded.

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free.

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor.

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised.

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him.

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest.

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob.

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter.

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him.

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him.

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone?

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded.

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him.

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.”

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her.

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid.

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going.

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor.

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul.

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

#acotar #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #high lord eris #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x y/n #eris x you #acotar fanfic

495 notes · View notes

atsumou · 5 days

Text

18+ MDNI; smut, edging, fingering, brief oral (f receiving), sanzu tells you that he’ll count down to 10, and when he gets to 1, you can cum but he has other plans. i wrote this on a whim. its 3 am. divider: cafekitsune.

── the rule was simple, sanzu counts down from 10, and when he gets to 1, you get your sweet, sweet release. easy enough, right? wrong. absolutely incorrect. you knew there wasn’t a straight line when it came to sanzu since he loved to play about, endlessly teasing you. especially when it came to your orgasms—oh, how that man loved to see you convulse beneath his touch.

he was unpredictable.

situated atop the ivory sheets, sweaty, and naked, sanzu hovered over your fucked out form, two slender digits shoved deep within your velvety walls—a small maniacal smile slowly spreading upon his scarred lips, cerulean eyes never leaving your blissful face. your essence shamelessly coated his hands, the sticky liquid rolling down his wrist, and circling it like a filthy bracelet.

“three.” “two.” sanzu counted down, fingers sinfully curling upwards to prod at your g-spot over, and over again. his wrist burned from the repetitive movement, he was sure to strain it if he kept going but sanzu couldn’t stop now. not when your face looked absolutely breathtaking—eyes rolled back, lips parted to let out dainty, incoherent sentences, tears threatening to spill.

you looked up at him through wet lashes, a pleading expression written all over your face. “two.” sanzu repeated, earning a pitiful whimper from you—this only widened his smile, not an ounce of pity on his handsome face. he angled his palm in a way that it brushed against your puffy clit. you curled over yourself, both hands shooting between your legs to tightly grasp sanzu’s wrist.

but he was relentless, moving them even faster to abuse that sweet spot, resulting in lewd sounds to fill up the room—loud, wet squelches from your sopping cunt shamelessly reverberated throughout the walls. how fucking filthy.

“two.” sanzu repeated once again. with how slow he’s going, you’re sure 10 seconds had already passed ages ago. now, he was just playing with you. you pleaded once again, a string of pathetic pleas slipped through your swollen lips, earning a low groan from sanzu—a full view of his adam’s apple as he angled his face towards the ceiling.

he looked down at you, biting his lip before finally speaking, “one.” that was all you needed to let go. you swore colourfully, shamelessly moaning his name as you creamed around his fingers. sanzu’s saccharine praises fell deaf to your ringing ears, and blurry vision, body violently shuddering at the immense pleasure.

you didn’t even notice his face between your legs until you felt his tongue lapping you up like a starved man, brazenly groaning into your heated skin, eyes closed shut as he relished the way you tasted on his tongue.

he was indeed unpredictable.

#₊˚ෆ YUE WRITES!#sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu imagines #sanzu x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #smut #mdni

236 notes · View notes

luv4slts · 11 months

Text

Corruption

- neuvillette x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋₊

tags: dubcon, bimbofication, breeding, praise kink, degrading kink, corruption, abuse of power, mention of crimes such as murder. wc: 1.7k — this is my first ever fanfic so it's not the best but i hope you enjoy it anyways <3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There were strange cases of murders happening throughout the capital of Fontaine, all very eerily similar to one another. You never intended to be caught but even a small mistake can lead to disaster. Being caught wasn't even a thought that was acknowledged in your mind. You thought no one could ever catch you. You had been so meticulous in how you went about the murders. And yet, a miscalculation did occur. You loved thinking of yourself as a brilliant mind. Maybe in another life you could’ve been the top student at the Akademiya in Sumeru, but that was too tedious for you.

“Ms. L/n, you are currently being sat for a trial so I would suggest you stop dozing off.” said the man in the golden chair

“I’m sorry, your honor.” you reply with a hint of snideness

You hated him. He was the most pretentious man you had ever met. The man in question was the Chief of Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette. He was the man in charge of ruling decisions that concerned Justice, which Fontaine was the land of. Anyone in charge of that power would only be second to the Archon.

“Courts adjourned. It will be held again tomorrow at noon.” he declares to everyone in the court

Finally, there was nothing you hated more than this boring affair. You knew that the odds weren’t very good against you so in the end you would probably be put to death anyways. Or given life imprisonment without parole. The only thing that could save you was if somehow the Archon herself ruled a decision over the case in your favor but that would never happen. You gather your things and start leaving the court, following your lawyer.

“Ms. L/n, you will not be leaving yet. I need you to come with me to my office.” he said stoically while collecting his documents.

“Of course, your honor. What would be the reason for this?”

“I just need to have a talk with you, that’s all. Nothing will be used against you so please do not fret about such things.”

He starts walking towards the door and you follow him closely. After a few minutes, you finally reach his office. You take a seat on the couch that’s in front of his desk. His room had an air of luxury and power to it. Any person with keen eyes would be able to recognize that this room belongs to someone of high esteem.

You snap out of your thoughts, “What did you want to talk to me about, sir?”

He sits on his chair, looking out the window behind him.

“I know that the odds aren’t very good against you in this case.”

Thanks for stating the obvious you think to yourself.

“And so, I would like to offer you an arrangement. Something that I think would be beneficial for the both of us.”

“What would this arrangement you speak of entail?” you’re confused but enticed at the offer

“Hmm…” he trails off for a bit before speaking again, “I would get something that I want and you receive freedom. Does that interest you?”

“Yes, it does. What might you want from me though?”

He stands from his chair, slowly walking behind you. You feel his slender hands as they rest on your shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry about that, all I need is your agreement.” you can feel his hot breath

You don’t have any other options so this wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself.

“I agree, then.”

“Wonderful.”

He slowly starts trailing his right hand down to your necklace, playing with it. He then starts placing kisses all over your neck while his hand starts going down further to the buttons of your shirt. He bites on your neck and you let out a yelp in surprise.

You can feel a smile form on his lips against your skin. He lets out a low chuckle and starts circling the spot with his tongue where he bit you before sucking on it. The sensations start building up and your breath hitches. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind but you don't protest.

His hand finishes unbuttoning your shirt and you’re left exposed in your bra.

He walks in front of you.

"Such a pretty girl..." he murmurs while putting his hand under your chin and rubbing his thumb over your lips

The heat between your thighs starts growing by each passing second. You take his thumb into your mouth before starting to slowly suck on it, moving your tongue in swirls around it.

"So needy." he purrs. He leans down towards you before clashing his lips into yours, slipping his tongue inside.

You let out a small moan into his mouth and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

As he continues to explore you mouth, he effortlessly undoes your bra. Your nipples harden as they hit the cool air.

He pulls away and a string of saliva is left that connects both of your lips before breaking as he sets his sights on your nipples. He slowly starts sucking on them, you roll your head back into the couch and writhe as the heat starts pooling in your underwear.

"More, please." you say quietly

"More? Use your words, tell me what you want." he teased

"Please pleasure me, sir." you plead and your face grows red

As soon as he hears your cries, he begins to slide his fingers down your aching body. Making sure to take his time to get more of a reaction out of you. Finally, he reaches the waist band and slides your pants off of your body. He brings his fingers over your underwear, noticing the wet pool on them.

"Do you want my fingers?" he asks while tracing the pool of wetness

"Yes, please" you whisper while biting back a moan

He hums while taking your panties off of you, the last piece of clothing on your body. He lets his fingers explore your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. Keeping his eyes on yours as he does so. You subtly arch your back, needy for more.

He chuckles before letting his fingers rub small circles on your sensitive spot. In a quick thrust, he pushes two fingers into your cunt. He curls the fingers and watches for your reaction. You let out breathy moans as they start filling the room together with the thrusts of his fingers inside your dripping cunt.

"F-fuck!" you cry out

He slams his lips into yours, "Quiet down, you don't want others to know that you're whoring yourself out to the Chief Justice, do you?"

You whimper

"Or.. do you want everyone to know? Is that it?"

You're too dumb to let out anything intelligible, letting out a whine instead.

"Mmm, how about I just breed you and make you mine instead? Then you can do whatever you want without repercussions. Do you want that?" he cooes while setting an even more brutal pace with his slender fingers

"Mmnh- yes, sir." you moan out, rolling your hips and becoming even needier than before as you feel your cunt clenching around his fingers and the climax coming closer.

Then, suddenly, he brings his fingers out and you whimper at the loss of them.

You then notice him taking his pants off. His erection is tight against his underwear. He lets it out and your eyes stay on it as you notice the girth of it.

"Spread your legs, mon chéri." he says lowly

You spread your legs, desperate for the length inside you. He teases your slit with his tip. Rubbing it slowly in circles.

Before you can react, he plunges his length into you. He sets a merciless rhythm and keeps a confident pace as he thrusts into you.

"Too much-" you sob out and he starts going faster

"No, no, my love. You're doing so well."

He brings his fingers to your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them.

"You look so pretty under me." he purrs before letting out a low groan

He continues stretching out your swollen cunt. The sound of your bodies clashing continues to fill the room and you're sure that everyone knows what's happening inside.

"Don't hold back, I want to hear you." he says shakily and you can feel his pace starting to become more frenzied

You wrap your legs around him and let our strangled noises.

"Please. Mmnh-"

His thrusts become more desperate. He lets out pants but tries to cover them by sucking in sharp breaths to try and remain composed.

"Fuck" he groans before giving one more powerful thrust and emptying himself inside of you

Your walls tighten at his length and your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure spread through your body.

He sloppily kisses you while both of you ride out of the high. He takes it out of you and you whimper as you lose the filling sensation.

Immediately he presses your legs together, "Don't make it go to waste. I need to impregnate you after all, darling." he mutters

You feel your cheeks burning and look away towards the wall. You notice yourself in the mirror and how disheveled you look.

"I have important things to go over so I would suggest you start dressing up."

"Yes, I'm sorry." you reply quietly

You put your clothes back on while he's organizing his documents.

He notices you looking at him, he curls his fingers at you. You come over to him and he puts a piece of hair behind your ear before whispering into it, "I'll do everything that needs to be done when it comes to your case so don't concern yourself with that anymore."

He stops before continuing, "However, I would like you to start working for me. I need an assistant and.. I don't think I got enough of you just from today as it was quite rushed."

He looks into you before kissing you slowly.

"I would be happy to work for such an esteemed person. sir."

"Excellent. Then, I expect to see you next week so you can get started. You may leave now." he instructs

"Have a good day, sir."

You leave, pleased at what occurred today. Thinking to yourself that perhaps it wasn't such a boring affair after all.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette x f!reader #fontaine #genshin fontaine #neuvillette #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x y/n #genshin smut #neuvillette x y/n #genshin reader insert #fanfic

1K notes · View notes