#irls been rough to say the least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratzforchris · 1 month

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Tumblr Girls, M. Sturniolo

Summary: Matt can't help but to visit his favorite fuck buddy on tour, who just can't help but to tease him with her Tumblr posts. Songfic loosely based off of "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy<3

Pairing: Matt x feminine and influencer!reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, marking, bondage, friends with benefits, fingering, oral (f), dom!Matt, choking, intoxicated sex (alcohol), dirty talk, belly bulge, no aftercare but fluffish (?) ending (i do not condone any of this irl!! it is *fiction*)

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Get your holy water ready girlies...

Ever since you were a little girl, you had been enamored by the idea of being famous. Something about the life called to you, whether that be walking down the street and people knowing you, or simply realizing that you were having an impact on someone, somewhere’s life. Fortunately, you had grown up in the age of the Internet, allowing you to truly harness what you had wanted to do for so long. You loved having creative freedom, and you loved making a persona that was truly you.

You had been making YouTube videos, doing a variety of Instagram influencing, and posting carefully crafted aesthetic photos to Tumblr ever since middle school. Whereas a lot of the girls had moved out of their Tumblr influencer phase, you never really had. You still loved the dark, “grunge” aesthetic of it to this, and had turned your account into a more mature, X-rated theme of what it once had been. You loved doing social media as your full time job for a variety of reasons, from the freedom it gave you to the opportunities.

Perhaps your biggest “opportunity” was your fellow influencer and YouTuber, Matt. Your relationship with Matt was…complicated, to say the least. As much as you were a wholesome, loving duo on camera, you were filled with an almost primal need for each other off of it too. You and Matt had never discussed a true, established relationship, mostly because you were both so young and so busy, and the rough, hard fucking in itself was enough to satisfy the needs in both of your lives.

Your careers had consumed both of you as of late, dragging Matt all over the country for the Versus tour, and leaving you back in LA with a variety of brand deals to film and photo shoots to arrange. There was one in particular that you were heavily looking forward to, mostly because you knew that it would drag Matt back to you, unable to help himself. In a fateful turn of events, you had been emailed about a Calvin Klein intimates shoot that would just so happen to drop on the day Matt was back in LA for a show. In an effort to bring back the Tumblr renaissance and the hold Calvin Klein had had during those days, you had insisted that the photos be posted to Tumblr before any other social media platform.

Matt: i’m back in la tn

You: oh i know ;)

Matt: ??? huh

You: no reason. just focus on winning tonight :)

You smiled to yourself as you closed your text messages out and migrated over to your photo gallery. Your manager had sent you the photos of the shoot to be posted this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t planning on fucking with Matt’s head using them. You had missed your fuck buddy, after all. The late night phone sex wasn’t the same as him in your bed, mumbling in your ear about how well you were taking it.

The photos from the shoot were of you in a gray Calvin Klein bralette with a matching thong. The photos had been toned with a sepia overlay, highlighting the curves of your breasts and hips. Your hair fell back against your shoulders gracefully as your doe eyes stared up at the camera. The shots were nothing short of sexy, making you imagine how Matt would react when he got the post notification. Maybe he would be sitting backstage, getting ready to go on and trying to hide his growing boner both from his brothers and the fans, which only made you smile more.

You and Matt continued to text back and forth for a while, until you suddenly stopped responding. This was part of your game with each other; to make the yearning so painful that it just made the sex more passionate. Once you saw that it had hit the fifteen minute mark until Matt was supposed to appear on stage, you hit ‘post’ on the Tumblr draft of your photos that you had planned out earlier in the day. The caption, come over 💋, was directly aimed at Matt, but no one else needed to know that. Sure enough, less than one minute later, you received a text from the brunette that had your heart racing and your thighs clenching.

Matt: what the fuck, y/n?

You smiled as you typed out your own message, imagining Matt biting his lip and trying to conceal the growing tent in his pants as he studied the photos.

You: what?

Matt: you know what

You: no i don’t

Matt: that fucking post

You: it’s part of my job, matt. quit being ridiculous. have you not heard about tumblr girls making a comeback?

Matt: watch it. i’m coming over and fucking that pretty pussy good tonight.

You knew what your and Matt’s usual routine was, so you grabbed another cup from the cabinet and the bottle of whiskey, migrating over to the gray couch in your living room. You didn’t bother waiting for the brunette to start drinking. Matt had a key to your apartment and would definitely make himself known when he arrived. You slowly sipped at the amber liquid, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks and in between your thighs as you thought about Matt and how much you had missed the feeling of his skin on yours.

Sure enough, the door swung open with a loud bang a few minutes later. In came Matt, hair disheveled and still in his blue Matthew jersey. His growing erection was obvious as he flopped onto the couch, lips immediately crashing into your own. Matt’s hands were all over you as you devoured each other; in your hair, running across your hips, grabbing your ass.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you.” he panted, leaning back against the couch as you passed him a drink.

“I missed you, Matt,” You smiled softly, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “How has tour been?”

Matt took a large swig of whiskey, before placing the cup on the coffee table. “Good. But not as good as you looked in those goddamn pictures.” he practically moaned.

“I noticed you have my post notifications on,” You teased, despite blushing at his words. “Catching feelings, Matthew?”

Matt rubbed your bare thigh, scooting closer to you so that he could suckle on the sweet spot behind your ear. “Do you know how hard it was?” he asked, leaving a hickey. “To have to go out on stage with my brothers and act normal when all I could think about were your tits and how I want to pound that little cunt to pieces? Huh?”

You whined as Matt continued to trail hickeys down your neck, mumbling things like “missed you so bad” and “gonna fuck you so hard” after each one. You two fell back against the soft cushions of the couch, Matt holding you down by the hips as his lips caressed your neck, the curve of your collarbone, and the dip of your breasts. You went to reach for Matt’s ringed fingers, only for him to smack your hand away.

“No,” Matt said harshly, moving one hand from your hip to your throat. “Tell me how fuckin’ bad you want it first,” he growled, squeezing your throat just enough to make the air catch in your lungs. “Tell me you wanna get off on my fingers like a goddamn bitch in heat.”

You gasped for air as Matt continued to squeeze, your arousal thumping through your veins. “P…please,” You whispered, eyes wide with lust as he continued to choke you just enough to get you going, but not enough to actually hurt you. “Need your fingers.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Good girl.” Matt hummed, alcohol hot on his breath as he moved his hands from your throat to practically rip your gray panties off.

With your friends with benefits arrangement, there was no time for gentle caressing or sweet nothings. Matt began to finger you roughly, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your slick folds as he rubbed his thumb across your clit at a dizzying pace. He wasn’t stopping there, either. Matt immediately thrust his middle and ring finger inside of you, pulling you closer to him. It had only been a few minutes, and the ache to orgasm was already building in your lower stomach.

“Matt,” You wailed, nails gripping his back. “Oh my god, Matt,” Tears began to roll down your face as the brunette continued to pleasure you. The combination of his fingers inside of you, the friction on your clit, and the added sensation of his rings were clouding everything in a lustful haze. “Need to cum.” You sobbed.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think you’re comin’ on my fingers instead of tongue.” he chuckled roughly.

With that, Matt threw his head down and forced your thighs apart, burying his face in your pussy. He began to devour you like you were the last meal on earth and he was a starving man. His tongue ran across your slit and clit, before licking your hole. You had no choice but to let out little squeals and whimpers as pleasurable sensations attacked you from all angles. Matt ran the flat of his tongue across your clit and you lost it, sobbing as your hands found his hair.

“Matt, please,” You begged. “‘M gonna cum.”

Your fuck buddy just nodded, still enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You immediately took it as a sign to let go, releasing the tension that had been building in your stomach. You came all over Matt’s tongue, panting and breathing heavily as your body shook from the pure force of your orgasm. Matt pulled his head from between your thighs, licking his lips and fingers with a smirk, blue eyes hungrily grazing over your body that was still wrapped in the bra and flannel with your bare ass on display.

“You taste so goddamn good, you know that?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you panted.

You smiled as Matt pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, but it was clear that the brunette wasn’t done yet. Matt slowly pulled the red and black material from your shoulders, smiling with more than just happiness. He had an intention and you could see it in the way he was toying with the fabric, eyes lighting up with lust. Matt didn’t speak again until he had removed your Calvin Klein bra, leaving you completely exposed on the couch as he stared down at you.

“Hands.” he said.

It was one word, but the command held an authoritative aire that had you thrusting your wrists to meet Matt’s own. Matt knew you better than practically anyone, which meant he knew all of your dirty little fantasies. Knowing you had a thing for bondage, the brunette quickly and expertly bound your wrists together in the flannel, giving it a tight tug to make sure it was secure. Your breath hitched at the pure filth of everything, but all you knew was that this alone was making your legs clench with need for another climax.

Matt was straddling you on the couch, fully clothed, which just added to the dominance he had over you. You were completely naked and covered in blooming hickeys he had left earlier in the evening with your wrists bound together by a flannel. You truly looked like Matt’s little cumslut, but you couldn’t find the decency in you to care anymore. You just knew that you were at his mercy and that you needed him. Now.

The brunette could sense your urgency and decided to have a little ‘fun’ with you. Matt took his time removing his shirt, allowing you to bask in the glory of him shirtless, all tanned skin and tattoos, but completely unable to do anything about it other than whimper and let out breathy moans. He moved onto his jeans next, painstakingly undoing his belt and throwing his pants to the side. The boy left his boxers on for the time being, teasing you as he stroked his cock through the plaid fabric.

“Wish that was you, huh? Strokin’ my dick and makin’ me feel good?” Matt chuckled, moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

You whimpered and writhed against your bond. “Need you in me, Matt. Please.” You whined.

Finally, Matt slid his boxers off and tossed them to the side, allowing his erection to finally spring free. His dick was practically touching his stomach, making your mouth run dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After so long apart and without truly fucking, you had forgotten just how big he was. Matt climbed on top of you once more, rocking his hips back and forth on your own without actually riding you.

“Beg for it. Tell me how much you love my cock, baby girl.” Matt groaned at the friction of your skin against his own, becoming harder by the second.

“I need you inside me. Need your dick, Matt.” You whimpered, the teasing growing straight to your nipples and cunt, making you almost ache with arousal.

“That’s right. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Without another word, Matt slammed into you, making you take him to the hilt. You let out an involuntary scream at the feeling of suddenly being so full, your back arching against the couch cushions. The feeling of him inside you, bare and hard, was enough to push you to the brink of orgasm. Your second always came faster than your first, and right now was no exception. Matt was riding you at an ungodly pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he straddled you.

“Oh my god, baby,” Matt moaned loudly. “I missed your wet little pussy. So tight, just for me.”

The filthiness of his speaking, combined with your bonds and the feeling of him fucking you was pushing you over the edge. You wanted to tangle your hands in Matt’s hair or run your nails down his back, but instead you were unable to do anything that wasn’t taking his fucking like a slut. Matt pressed down on the bulge in your stomach from being balls deep, a smirk on his face.

“You feel that, baby? Feel you takin’ me like the cockslut you are?” he chuckled.

You whined as tears rolled down your face, bucking his hips up to meet his own. “Matt, I…I–need to, please.” You wailed, unable to form coherent sentences in your intoxicated and lustful state.

“You gonna cum? Gonna make me feel appreciated?” Matt’s blue eyes scanned your face, enjoying the view that was you under him, tied up and sobbing.

“Mhm!” You sobbed.

“Then prove it.” he sneered, pressing on your stomach roughly again.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let your climax take over, your cunt clenching against Matt’s cock. This caused the brunette to let out a string of curses as you came down from your high, your entire body shaking. He knew he was playing a risky game here, even though you were on the pill, but Matt just loved fucking you bare more than anything in the world. The brunette quickly pulled out, and before you knew it, your stomach was covered in thick and warm, white ropes of Matt’s cum.

He laid down beside you on the couch, panting heavily as you both came down from your shared highs. Once your breathing had returned to semi normal, Matt kissed you roughly and undid your bonds, before rolling off the couch. Without another word, he pulled his clothes on, straightening his hair. Your fuck buddy kissed your forehead as he busied himself around your apartment, cleaning up the whiskey and cups and retrieving a warm washcloth to wipe down your body with.

Once everything had been done, Matt tucked you in with a blanket, kissing your forehead. “I gotta go. We’re driving up to San Francisco tonight and I told Nick and Chris I would be back by two. I’ll see ya once the tour is over, yeah?”

You smiled sleepily as Matt slipped out your front door and into the night. Whereas you would’ve loved for the brunette to stay the night, you knew that you both had jobs to do and that right now, you were just fuck buddies and that was that. But as you drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through your tummy that you and Matt wouldn’t stay “just friends” for long.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence

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velvetures · 9 months

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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for telling my friends i love them?

okay, hear me out before writing this off as fake or “trying to make the other party look bad”. i promise this is a genuine problem i need to have figured out.

i (20) am autistic so i have a hard time telling when i do something wrong, and it’s difficult for me to make friends. however, i was part of an online friend group for ~3-4 years. i was the oldest and the others (17-19) all knew each other irl, so it felt a little awkward (to me) for me to be there, but i considered them my closest friends and my only safe space to be myself.

in the time we were friends, i made some mistakes, some of which i’d rather not get into for personal reasons. but recently the group decided they didn’t want me there anymore, so i was kicked from the discord server and they all blocked me. i was sent a long message about why, and that’s where my confusion starts.

in the message, they brought up some things that didn’t make sense to me as a “bad” thing.

1. they said i’d talked to them about drugs and alcohol “while [they] were still minors”, which is true, but misleading when it’s just said like that. what i actually did was infodump about safe use, because it happened to be one of my fixations at the time, and sometimes mention being high in my channel, but nothing more than that. as for them being minors, some were 17 and some were 18, so it’s really not that different to having DARE come and talk to you about drugs, at least in my eyes. i never encouraged them to use, i never told them to use, and i never gave them resources to use. i only talked about safe use.

2. this is where my title comes in. they told me i was guilttripping and manipulating them by talking about them being my “longest friends” and telling them i loved them. point blank, nothing more to it, that’s what they said. along with that was an added “we know that’s not how you meant it but the effect was there”. this is what i don’t understand and why i need to know if i’m actually a bad person for this or not. yes, i’d talk about them being my longest friends, because i was grateful they had stuck around so long. i’d tell them i loved them just off the bat, whenever i wanted to tell them. it was never about guilttripping or manipulating them, it was always about wanting to show that i appreciated them.

3. this one is a hard one i think. they said that i’d “never disproven [my] ex’s accusations”. i don’t really want to get into what happened which my ex since i know i made mistakes in that relationship, but what’s important to note here is that i had sent my ex’s accusations to one member of the group who’d then sent me a text telling me that they believed i was different now.

this is the text copy-pasted:

“it's definitely a rough situation. but since i know *y'all*, i definitely believe your side. not to mention, you acknowledged your mistakes and the things you did. and i think for all the statements they made about "they knew we had [this traumal", they should've had proof of y'all discussing that. like i can say my girlfriend knows i have body image issues, but i could totally be pulling that out of my ass, you can't just take my word for it. they can't just say things without proof, especially if the things they say could *ruin* y'all's life.”

but in the message as to why i was no longer in the group, they said that actually they didn’t believe me at all, which completely contradicts that text.

and yeah, that’s my explanation of the situation. i genuinely don’t know if i’m the asshole or not, and i’ve been beating myself up about it. this whole situation has made my trust in friends go down, especially since i trusted that group with everything about me. any advice is welcome too.

thank you for listening. have a great day. :)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mysillytdsideblog · 7 months

Text

My headcanons for mike & co

Vito

Co-host w/ Mike from ages 14-16

Mentally 18-19 ish

System big brother

Handles a lot of the family issues

The one who steps up fr

Sexual Protector Alter

Trauma Holder, but doesnt have a full picture of their trauma

Sexualizes self for attention

Just a cool guy if u get to know him

Wishes he was more built irl lol

He was the one dating their first girlfriend

She didnt know about their DID, both Mike and Vito would rather keep that private

Wants a normal life

Also held down their first job (semi-canon)

He gives a shit but can be emotionally reserved

He doesn’t hate Mal, he just finds him frustrating

A bit of a troublemaker but not out of wanting bad for the system, it’s just the way he is

Creeped out by Mal, thats why he doesn’t like him

Secretly holds grudges but doesn’t tell them unless he’s picking a fight

Kinda a pothead

Chester

Mentally 60s-70s

No specific trauma memories, but he was split from trauma

Has never been the host but he switches in quite often

One of the first alters to have been discovered by their psych

At first the psych thought they were faking just cause of how theatrical Chester was, and how much it annoyed Mal

The psych thought they were faking to get out of juvie

Not to help, Mal said it was a “voice in his head” and would talk to him out loud, not caring who heard

He’s not an introject, but they don’t know why he’s old

He just is who he is

They don’t know why he has a scar over his eye, they presume there’s a trauma reason for it but nobody has any memory of something bad happening to their eye

He feels like he’s a grandfather to Mike, but the feeling’s not reciprocated

Not yet at least

Mike learns to love him

He gets annoyed by Chester still but he finds him more endearing

He likes his hot beverages and pastries

And yelling at the tv

He finds commenting on everything so entertaining

He’s co-con 80% of the time

He finds fronting to be physically exhausting, like it makes him physically feel his age

Has chronic pain in his hips and joints, his psych says it’s phantom pain

He loves his psych, he could go on for hours

He loves little kitty cats! There has never been a cat he couldn’t pet

He wishes he was more welcome when visiting nursing homes, he feels lonely but they don’t like his “portrayal” of an old man

He had gotten kicked out before

Actually, he gets kicked out of places quite often

He has health anxiety and constantly thinks he’s going to fall ill and die

His doctor is so fed up

He believes so many wives tales and basically you can tell him anything and he will believe you (unless he’s in a mood, then he’s just going to shout at you)

Mal

Ambigious early childhood to age 13 host

Mentally shifts between 13 to 17

Persecutor/Protector

Mainly a physical protector, kind of the mind’s back up plan for when things get rough and he needs to protect himself or take action

Holds most of the memory of the physical abuse

Split directly for that reason

He was one of the first

Hates his parents and tries to cause problems as a revenge for all the abuse he endured

Sadistic for this reason

He knew from a very young age that nobody was coming to save him, and they never did

Telling all the trauma he knew about in a court ordered psychiatric evaluation was the main reason he got diagnosed, but he was hoping it was going to put his parents in prison

It didnt

He was originally going to be diagnosed with ASPD before they scrapped that for just a DID diagnosis, mainly because his symptoms were too mixed and inconsistent due to the other alters existing

He still agrees ASPD fits him though and after TDAS he does more specific treatments for it in therapy

They do get diagnosed with ODD though

Basically everyone but Svetlana shows symptoms for it

Mal has it the worst because he has so much pent up hatred from everyone who hurt or failed him

And he only gets the bare minimum when he takes it into his own hands, but its better than nothing

Really clashed with Zoey at first but he was the one to make her understand them more, in his own roundabout way

Actually became close friends with Zoey even if they have their conflicts

Mike

Same age as body

Kinda bigender tbh but he’s not ready for that

Thinks he should be the one to call all the shots because he thinks hes the original

Hes not, there is none

Doesn’t have a lot of childhood memories

Nobody tells him about their trauma

Besides Mal when he’s trying to prove a point

He hates Mal because Mal threatens his sense of control

He overcompensates, being a system scares him so if he’s in charge he will be able to make sure everything’s ok

Just finally coming out of denial, still half in it

He hates being a system

Rude to his alters!!!

After All Stars, he sees his psych again who scolds him

And teaches him to accept his disorder

He does better

He compromises more, he learns that his alters are people too, he adapts to his multiplicity and eventually is the key to achieving functionality between all of them

He struggles to accept Mal, because of his persecutory nature, but he learns why Mal does what he does and with a little work from them both they are able to compromise

Mal has to grow and learn too don’t get me wrong

Svetlana

Same age as body

Transbian

Doesn’t mind being a system tbh

She likes the company

Hosts for short periods but only for upcoming competitions really because its hard for her to pretend to be a singlet

She doesn’t like hiding who she is, she’s way more open about her DID than the others are

She wishes she has more girl friends to talk with but they all know her as mike or mal :(

Total sporty girl she is multi talented in soooo many sports

Gymnastics is her fav obv

Why she has an accent? Who knows? Possibly an introject or maybe shes just like that but as far back as they remember she was there

They are all confused

Has good childhood memories, trauma free

She definitely loved recess and fronted a lot during the school years

Loves making friends, shes very social and kind!!

She’s also the most understanding and gives the best advice

Very emotional and it can be quite theatrical, on par with chester

She’s the one who gets along the most with their parents

Picky eater

She likes to eat clean and hates that the other alters eat meat because she finds it soooo gross

Has her own separate drawer in their dresser for her clothes

Bird lover and has owned pet birds before

Manitoba

Introject, half indiana jones-half steve irwin

Not a fusion he was just made like that

30s-40s

The most recent split

Has a fleshed out part of the interworld including NPCs (like his wife) and spends most of his time there (semi-canon)

He doesn’t prefer to front, he just found total drama fun to compete in

Dreams of traveling the world

Really longs for his innerworld to be real

Tries to keep everyone in line

Wishes they would be less trouble

He doesn’t side with anyone, which makes Mike very angry but he can also see a side to Mal that Mike can’t

He’s the most logical and level headed one

Loves collecting things especially memorabilia from places he’s been

He knows so many animal facts and just general knowledge

It makes Mike feel stupid cause he doesn’t know all that but its in his brain, it confused him how that works still

#total drama #td mal #td mike #td svetlana #total drama island #td manitoba #total drama all stars #total drama mike #total drama revenge of the island #td chester #mikes system hcs #mike system hcs #mike td #mike & co #mike total drama

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py-dreamer · 2 months

Text

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

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sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw · 1 year

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Day 31 | Gangbang - Pantalone, Tartaglia, Pierro, Dottore, and Scaramouche

Kinktober Masterlist

AFAB Reader

Word count: 4,791

18+, dubcon/noncon, manipulation, lovebombing, blowjobs, vaginal sex, rough, spanking, gangbang, reader ends up spending a lot of time with Pantalone, not proofread

A/n: just a quick note, lovebombing and isolating (as well as guilt triping) are real tactics used by abusive people, remember that this is a dark fic and this is not sexy irl. Also, it's 4:41 am. This will be posted in about 3 hours. I rushed to get this done in time so the last third is rushed. I might go back and edit it.

You walked in the streets of Monstadt. You swallowed and tried to keep down the building sobs. Blurred colors filled your eyes, but it was easy enough to tell where you were going.

You looked down and shook your head. You were okay. Everything was okay. Don't cr-

A sudden force slammed into you. Or probably the other way around. You stepped back and focused on the person you bumped into. You hadn’t realized you had started walking faster with each thought.

He had long black hair and glasses on a thoughtful face. The accessories he wore looked fairly expensive. Overall, his appearance was a unique blend of beautiful and handsome.

“Sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking.” You turned your face away. You didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes.

His eyebrows raised. “Is something wrong?”

"It's nothing." You take a breath in, but it turns into a sniffle.

He hummed and watched you for a moment. He began to walk. “Follow me.”

“Huh?” You look at him.

He paused his walk to look back at you. “I’m going to treat you. Good Hunter’s?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together. “Why would you do that?”

He smiled. “Do I need a reason?" He sighed. "But, if you don't want to, I suppose I'll have to go alone."

You guessed it wouldn't hurt. "Okay."

You followed him and sat across from him. He inquired about what you wanted and bought it for you. You felt the stares of passers by, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. The delicious flavor of the food helped to calm you down. But now that you were calm, you were tired.

You were a little over half way done with your meal when he said something again.

"Is everything alright?"

You shrug. You just met him, but you really wanted to get it off your chest. It was killing you to have no one to vent to. To just listen and be there for you. It wouldn't be the end of the world if you told a stranger you'd probably never meet again.

You let out a heavy breath. "I… lost someone important to me."

It hurt to even think about, but it felt good to finally say it. Like a literal weight had been lifted.

He nodded with an apologetic smile. “I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”

You nodded and your eyes rested on the food that was growing cold. Your hands rested on either side of the plate. “It’s,” you swallow, “not nice.”

“As I would expect.” He sat back and glanced up at the sky. “If you could say anything to the gods right now, what would it be?”

You freeze at the sudden unrelated question. Confusion turned into contemplation as you genuinely considered the question. You turn it over in your mind until one phrase solidifies itself in your mind.

“It’s not fair.” You take another bite and chew.

“Unfortunately, life isn’t fair.”

“It shouldn’t have to be,” you mumble.

“You’re right.”

You look up at him. He wasn’t giving you a lecture. Or telling you that it was just the way things were. Like you were used to.

“It’s a terrible thing that shouldn’t have happened to you,” he added. There was a sadness in his eyes. “If you could have anything, materialistic at least, to make you feel better, what would it be?”

You thought for a moment. It would be something to distract you. Something you loved. You answered with something you wanted for your hobby. Slowly you elaborated. Why that item would distract you and be fun. Why this made you so happy and everything about it that you thought was cool. And he listened. For a little bit, you forgot your troubles. You felt better.

Eventually, you had to part ways

Later, you find a package at your door and open it up to find the thing you mentioned and a letter.

You opened the letter. It said, "I saw this on sale and thought of you. I hope it brings you joy and that you feel better soon." From there it asked a few questions about your hobby. It ended with the signature. "-Pantalone, Regrator" There was also a return address.

The Fatui Harbinger? Was that who you spent your afternoon with? It would explain the stares. Your temporary shock of fear was replaced with comfort. Despite the things you'd heard about the Fatui, he was so kind and truly seemed to understand you.

You hugged the letter as gently as you could. A huge grin appeared on your face when you looked back at your present. You scooped it up on your arms and walked inside.

Pantalone walked down the halls. Back in Sneznaya for instruction from the Tsarita. Your letter in his pocket. He'd write a reply that evening and send it off. It was quite a treat meeting you.

He couldn’t help but smile. Apparently it was noticed.

“What are you smiling about? Swindle someone out of their money?” Tartaglia, who had been walking in the opposite direction, said.

“No,” he said, smile ever present. “I simply found a cute, little person.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’d like you to come with me back to Sneznaya.”

It’d been a few months since you started exchanging letters. Those letters and kind words and small gifts were the best things in your life. They filled you with so much joy each time you received them, even more so when you read that he was visiting again. You barely restrained yourself from hugging him. He put his hand on your shoulder and smiled at you. And during your conversation, he mentioned wanting you to come back with him.

“I think you’d like it, but you’d best bring your best coat.”

“Mmm.” You bit your lip. “I don’t know.”

“I’d like it if you would. It’ll only be for a little bit.” He watched you. “Is there anything you need to stay here for?”

You bit harder. Your eyes rested on the ground. You didn’t… have a reason not to go. And it would probably be fun, right?

And now you were there. In a world of stark, cold white. The only color was in the city you finally arrived in.

Sneznaya was about as cold as you expected. What you didn’t expect was exactly how hard it was to handle the cold. You shivered in your heaviest coat you owned. Thankfully, Pantalone noticed your state and draped his large coat over you.

He showed you the markets. Your eyes lit up at the sight. All of the different things for sale. He noticed whenever something caught your eye and bought It for you. You always told him that you didn’t need them, he insisted. He would have shown you more, but you were too cold for it. He offered to let you stay inside the rest of the day and you accepted.

You walked side by side to somewhere he promised would be warmer. On the way, a red haired man locked eyes with you. He looked between you and Pantalone and walked up. You shrank away, nearly tempted to step behind Pantalone.

“Hey,” he casually waved.

“Childe,” Pantalone stopped in his tracks.He stared at the intruder with his lips pressed into a thin line with a strained smile. This was the first time you’d ever seen him like that. “Hello. To what do we owe the honor?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back and welcome your friend here,” he turned his gaze to you. “Is this your 'cute, little person' you were talking about?”

Despite the cold, your face burned.

"I've heard many great things about you." He winks.

You shrank back in embarrassment with an awkward smile.

“Don't pay him any mind,” Pantalone said. "This is Childe, the eleventh Harbinger."

Your eyes widen and look him up and down.

"You look like you've never seen a Harbinger before," he teased.

"I just wasn't expecting it," you said.

"What? Do I not look like one-?"

"Childe, as much as I appreciate your friendly manner," Pantalone sharply inhaled, "we best get going."

"I'll join you," Childe said, walking beside you.

"Really? Don't you have things you need to get done?" You were fairly certain the life of a Harbinger was busy

"I got time."

"Joy," Pantalone said quietly.

"Glad you think so," Childe said.

You snorted. Childe's mischievous smile grew and he patted your shoulder. You turn your head to Pantalone. Every time you were happy he seemed to share in the joy. But his expression stayed the same. Almost looking at you with… disappointment. Or anger. He turned his gaze in front of him, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it. Or maybe you misinterpreted it. Or maybe he was just mad at Childe. That was probably it.

Childe made some light conversation on the way there. Eventually you entered a fairly large building. Thank the the Archons it was warm inside, or at the very least warmer. Near the entrance was a room with a fireplace. You rush to it and stand by the fire. Rotating your hands. You backed your hands away and rubbed them when they felt like they were burning from the sudden temperature change.

You looked around the room. There was no one there. However, you heard, who you believed to be, Childe walking in the next room.

You sat on the couch closest to the fire while rubbing your arms. The furniture looked expensive. The couch's wood frame was smooth and reflected light like glass. The fabric was white and accented with images of flowers.

Childe came back with a cup that steamed. With a free hand he took a blanket from a stack. He walked up and handed them to you.

"Thank you, Childe" you said.

"No problem. You're one of the few guests here in a while. And call me Tartaglia." He sat down next to you.

You looked around the room again. "Where did Pantalone go?"

"Oh, probably went off to get some records, or maybe to count his stacks of money again," Childe said lightheartedly.

You nodded. You would have liked it if he told you before leaving. You shiver again as a cold settles in your bones.

You would have started a conversation, but you couldn’t think of much to say. You took a sip from the cup.

"So," Childe took the initiative, "how did you and the banker meet?"

"Oh, I was walking and happened to bump into him. In Monstadt," you added.

"That's all?"

"Well, I guess we talked a little bit, over some food, and we started sending letters."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "He's never that friendly with anyone else. Then again, you are attractive." He smirked.

You shrank into yourself slightly and smiled. "Oh, we're just friends, but thank you for the compliment."

"I was just telling the truth." He leaned back and stretched his arms. He let them rest on the back frame of the couch. "But seriously, I'm surprised you were actually brave enough to come to Sneznaya. And that you would call a Harbinger a friend."

"Is there a reason why someone wouldn't?" You tilted your head.

Childe held back a laugh and covered his mouth before waving his hand. "You know what everyone thinks of us. Everyone always assumes the worst when it comes to the Fatui."

"Yeah. But I gave you the benefit of the doubt and took a chance and you and Pantalone turned out to be really nice." You smiled but it quickly faded. "If only my friends and co-workers could do the same."

"Hm?" He scooted in closer and looked genuinely interested.

You continued. "The second they found out, they never liked it. They keep telling me it's a bad idea and that I need to stay away, but those letters were the best thing that happened to me and they don't even want to think about the fact that they might be wrong. All they care about is that it's the Fatui and keep-" Tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey." He put his hands on your shoulders.

He pulls you in for a hug, taking your drink and setting it down, and you accept. Holding him close. The arms around you felt like anchors and more comforting than the warmest blanket. You feel yourself melt.

"There, there." He patted your back.

"I haven't even talked to them in a while," you curl in closer. "Why can't they let me have this?"

"I don't know, but you did the right thing. A true friend would want you to be happy. If they tell you to stay away from something that makes you happy, they're bad friends."

The tears fall faster. Your body shakes in small tremors. The whole time, Tartaglia rubs your back and comforts you. It felt so nice. Like all of your problems had evaporated.

You didn't even notice when you fell asleep.

Someone nudged you awake. Your eyes drifted open. You heard footsteps then saw Pantalone. You immediately sit up.

"Have you warmed up yet?"

You barely even nodded when he started talking again.

"Good. Follow me. Unless you haven't rested enough."

Your face burns again and you nearly run to follow him. You quickly waved goodbye to Tartaglia.

"See you." He waved back.

Pantalone led you to an office. You sat while he organized and signed papers. He showed you the trinkets he collected. He then led you to a library. The bookshelves stretched to the height of the ceiling. You had once been in the library of the Knights of Favonius, but this library was so much bigger.

"I'm going to the Tsarita to receive instructions. Stay here until I get back."

"You're leaving again?" Your disappointment leaked into your voice.

He sighed. "As much as I'd like to spend all of my time with you, I still have responsibilities. I doubt the Tsarita would be pleased if I brought someone she did not permit. Afterwards, you can join me for any other task."

You sucked it up and nodded.

The Harbinger seemed content and left, leaving you with nothing better to do than read. You skimmed the titles. Picking up a few and reading a few lines.

In your search for something that peaked your interest, you looked up and saw someone watching you. A short boy in a funny hat. You wondered why he was staring at you, then you remembered Tartaglia mentioning something about not not a lot of guests.

You tried to ignore his gaze, but it was difficult.

He walked up to you. His sharp eyes judged you up and down. You shrank back in confusion.

"So it's you," he finally said.

"What about me?"

"You're the one Regrator's been wasting his time on."

You stood there awkwardly and hugged the book you'd been holding.

"I can't imagine why. Are you some toy of his? Something he finds interesting?"

"I'm not a toy, I'm his friend," you shot back, with some anger.

He looked at you with doubt. His eyebrows raised slightly and examining your expression.

You took a breath. "Did he talk to everyone about me?"

"No. Rumors and hearsay fly." He turned away. "And the fact that idiot Childe must have met you. For how much he talked my ear off about you, I was expecting more."

You shook your head and stared at the ground. "I honestly don't understand why they like me so much too."

He grins and snorts before walking away.

Shortly, Pantalone came back. You walked side by side with him down the hall.

"Someone I hired is securing a room for you to sleep in. They'll come to show you to your room by the end of the day," Pantalone said.

You nodded. "Thank you."

You glanced back in front of you and noticed someone walking the opposite direction in the hall. A large man with silvery white hair.

He noticed you as well. He stopped in front of the two of you and Pantalone stopped too.

"Hello, Pierro. Fancy running into you."

"Hello, Regrator. Who is this with you?" He turned his gaze to you and you suddenly felt very exposed.

“This is my guest. I met them in Monstadt.”

You introduced yourself.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Pierro said with a smile. “I assume this is your first time in Sneznaya. What do you think?”

“I think it’s very pretty,” you said. “And impressive, but it’s a little cold for me.”

He glanced down at your clothing. You remember you’re still wearing Pantalone’s coat. “You should get a heavier coat for yourself.”

“I was going to get them one tomorrow,” Pantalone interjected.

Pierro nodded. “I have to go now. Sneznaya welcomes you. You can stay for however long you want, and if you need anything, just come see me.”

You both said goodbye and continued on your way. You wore a bright smile. Everyone seemed to really like you.

It had been months since then. When you got home, the people in your life exploded at you for going to Sneznaya. Telling you how dangerous it was. How you could have been killed. Why would you go with a Harbinger? To never do that again. Were you insane? Did you have a death wish?

Your final cord of patience snapped. You flew into a rage. Every angry thought you ever had about them erupted out of you. Why were they so concerned about this? Why were they suddenly so concerned about you? Why did they suddenly have to poke their goddamn noses in your business? Why couldn’t you go where you wanted? Why couldn’t you be friends with who you wanted to? Since when did all of the people you talked to have to be approved by them? Why couldn’t you just be happy? Did they want you to be miserable? Why couldn’t they just see you were happy and leave you alone?

You completely cut them off after that. And they finally left you alone. It was great. Until there was no one around you. The loneliness ate at you like a disease. Everyday felt so bleak and gnawed into your chest. And you couldn’t tell why. All you knew was that you wanted someone. The only good things in your life were the letters. Childe and Pierro were sending some now, though Pierro’s came less often. They were your only joy and lit up your world, filled that hole in your chest, even if it was only temporary. You longed to see them again, to talk to them more.

Eventually, it was suggested that you move to Sneznaya. There was a job they could guarantee you would get too. You would have everything you wanted, you could actually see them every single day. You didn’t like the cold, but that was a small sacrifice to make in order to be closer to them.

You didn’t get to see each of them every day, as they sometimes left for missions the Tsarita gave them, but there would always be at least one. You later come to learn that the person you met in the library was Scaramouche, the sixth Harbinger. You also came to meet other Harbingers you’d never met before, such as the Doctor, who you occasionally interacted with.

It was Autumn now. Though, not that you could tell. In Sneznaya there were no trees that changed colors, or signs of the final harvest for the year. The only sign was that it became colder. And you told this to your new friends. About the things you missed. It hurt, but you were happier now.

You got to learn about Sneznayan traditions too, which were always interesting to learn. Apparently, during mid Autumn, instead of indulging in a harvest, the Sneznayans told ghost stories and terrifying tales. They also had activities that were a test of courage of sorts, where an individual or group would have to walk through an area where people would scare them. It sounded so much fun, but you were heartbroken to hear it was done outside and in the dark. It would be too cold for you to want to stay out for long.

On the night that was the height of storytelling and spooking others, the five Harbingers you were the closest to invited you to see a surprise. The entire room was decorated in a way that mixed tradition from where you were from with yours. Spooky decorations that featured a lot of orange. There were large plates of food for you to choose from, and there were games that were nearly identical to the ones you played at home. It was like a party, just for you and them.

The more reserved ones like Pierro and Pantalone didn’t play any of the games, instead would stand by the cider barrel and talk and tell you stories. Scaramouche and Dottore would play games if they got competitive about it.

It was so much fun, and you felt so happy. But, something about it didn’t feel right. There was something strange about there only being six people in a place that looked like it should have been open to more people. Like an actual party. They’d done a lot for you, but this too? There was a small discomfort in you knowing they imported all of this from Monstadt and attended just for you. Like you were in debt.

During the night, when the hour hand nearly pointed directly up, they had another surprise. They manage to get someone to move one of those test of courage things inside. Just for you.

There were several genuine scares. They made you jump into the closest person and cling onto them. The entire time they crowded around you, making you feel claustrophobic, like it was hard to breathe.

When it was over, you all piled into a lounge. Sitting on the couches and laughing with each other. Was it your imagination, or was everyone staring at you?

You sat next to Tartaglia. Having a conversation between him and someone else on the other couch. You freeze briefly when you notice his hand on your thigh. You brush it off. He was always a little touchy around you. Nothing strange about it. But he squeezes, and you try to swallow down a lump.

You heard your name being called and it pulled you out of your daze. From Pantalone’s tone, you guessed this wasn’t the first time he said your name.

“Come over here,” he said.

You excuse yourself to Tartaglia and walk over. You sit next to Pantalone. There’s a conversation, you were exchanging words, but it was hard to hear once he started rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. The blood rushed in your ears. Why was your body reacting like this? There was nothing weird about this.

He guides you onto his lap, and in your confusion you do it without thought. You sat there stiffly. His hands were all over you.

“Your mind seems to be elsewhere.” He pulled you closer in. There was something pressing into your butt. “Did you enjoy our surprise?”

“Yes,” you said. Much more quietly than usual.

“Did it make you tired?” He teased. His lips grazed against your neck

The other Harbingers seemed to move in closer. You suddenly felt so small.

“Yes,” you said.

“Poor thing,” Dottore said.

Pantalone’s hand wandered into the inside of your thigh. He messaged your leg. His other hand stroked every inch of you that wasn’t sitting on him. His lips were on your neck. Someone’s hand touched your hair. He whispered in your ear.

You shrank away from all contact, adjusted yourself, and closed your legs. Pantalone’s hand clenched.

“What’s wrong?” His other hand held your neck. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” you said. “But I don’t feel comfortable with this. I-” Tears start to well up. You look around the room for someone to back you up. They only stared back.

“Why so cold? And after everything we’ve done for you. Do you not care? Were you just going to take my money and run?” The hands grew slightly tighter.

“No. Of course not,” you plead.

“Then can’t you do one thing for us?”

You’re not sure why, but you find yourself nodding. He continues where he left off. His fingers pushed on and rubbed your pussy through your clothes. You shift uncomfortably.

Someone sits down beside you, making the cushions and you bounce. It was Tartaglia. He smiled at you. He takes your arm, his hands rub and squeeze as they go down. He holds your hand in his, close to his face as he leaned in closer. He kissed your knuckles. You stared into his eyes.

A gloved hand grabs your chin and turns your head. Pantalone pressed his lips onto yours in a stolen kiss. You froze. He pressed further, tightening his grip until it hurt. You kiss back. It was a soft, sensual kiss, at least you thought it was. It was also greedy. And it only made you feel cold.

He finally pulls away and you gasp for air and want to wash your mouth with soap.

Pantalone tugs on the clothes covering your chest.

“Take it off.”

You do what he says, pulling it over your head. Suppressing the urge to cover up. Trying to forget everyone watching you. That seemed to make him happy and he kissed your cheek.

Scaramouche stood up and walked to you. He grabbed you by the hair, forcing you to lean forward.

“Are you just going to hog them the whole time?” Scaramouche said.

“Fine.” Pantalone shrugged and let go of you.

Scaramouche pulled you off of his lap and on your knees on the floor. Before you could comprehend anything else, a dick was against your lips. You looked up at him. He glared down at you. You opened your mouth. The second you did, it was filled with cock. He used your hair to shove you down his cock, over and over again. Making a line of saliva at the base of it. Your throat already hurt and clenched around him.

Someone behind you takes off the bottom half of your clothes, leaving you exposed. The hard appendage pokes into your backside. It makes its way to your hole and thrusts in. The snap of skin reverberating in the air. You yelp, making Scaramouche shove you all the way down unexpectedly. You felt a hot substance pour down your throat. But he didn’t stop.

Dottore stands up and stops next to you. He grabs your hand and puts it around him. His hand squeezes yours and moves it the way he wants. You do your best to fulfill his needs while being stuffed at both ends. You thought you heard him praise you, but you couldn’t quite catch it.

Judging by the grunts behind you, you guessed it was Tartaglia plunging into your hole. His hands anchored on your hips.

Thoughts try to push themselves into your mind. To try to figure out what you even thought about this, but you push it away. Just keep going. Don’t think.

Tartaglia’s hips stutter and he moans loudly, filling you with his load. He pulls out of you with heavy breaths. Immediately, Dottore takes his place. He was much rougher. Abusing your hole. Each thrust shoves you forward. Hard smacks landed on your ass, making you cry out.

Scaramouche cums again and finally withdraws. A pink dusted his face and he walked back to the couch. Your arms nearly felt too weak to hold your top half up.

Heavy footsteps walk around you to your front. Pierro. He shoots a look to Dottore who calms down for just a moment, making you feel relieved. Pierro gently guides your mouth to take him. You suckle on him, doing your best to fit him in your mouth. Dottore returns to his rough pace from before. This time the first Harbinger doesn’t stop him. In fact, he seems to enjoy you jerking forward from Dottore’s handling.

When they both cum, you fall to the floor.

Yet, Pantalone waved you over. You weakly crawled over to him. He helped you up and back on his lap. He thrusted up into you. Pushing you into the air and pulling you back down over and over again. Tears leak from your eyes. Until finally he finishes too.

You lay on him. Exhausted. Warm tears still pour out of your eyes. Overwhelmed, but not knowing what to do. Things wouldn’t go back to normal again, would they?

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #tw:dubcon #tw:noncon #pantalone x reader #dottore x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #scaramouche x reader #pierro x reader #genshin smut #smut

1K notes · View notes

latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 1 year

Text

#𝗚!𝗠𝗠!𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘.

𖤍 uramichi giving his pretty gf a creampie <33

cw. fem! reader, established relationship, cumming inside (use condoms irl!!), creampie, strength kink, rough sex, mating press, clit stimulation, cervical stimulation, squirting, big cock & overstimulation.

lati. have this while i finish up my other bigger wips lmao,,

» NAVIGATION «

You love it when your boyfriend fucks you stupid, trapping you underneath his well-built body until he can't possibly cum anymore. He's always fucking you like his life depends on it, but you like it when he fucks your cunt so messily n sloppily. Always needing Uramichi to bend you over the nearest surface bc all you can really think about is how nice and good his dick feels inside your pussy. Your fingers could never compare to his twiddling with your swollen clit until you're creaming around his fat cock.

Uramichi's strong enough to fold you in half, effectively trapping you in a mating press that will surely leave you in a fucked-out state. It's always been a favorite of his, but who could blame him? His pretty girlfriend happily letting him use her pussy, wet insides rapidly fluttering and taking everything he has to give despite the overstimulation just gets him so hot and bothered. So he can't help it when he gets so lost in the pleasure of your gummy pussy that he forgets he isn't wearing a condom.

"I��fuckーI forgot to buy condomsーsh-shit, quit squeezing..!" Rasping like his lungs are about to give out, Uramichi grinds down into your pussy, thick cockhead nearly kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.

The muscles in your legs burn, aching to rest, but you just feel so, so good. Even if the lack of circulation in your limbs has made them long since go numb, you really don't want Uramichi to stop fucking you. You want to think of nothing but the unending good coursing through your veins, wanting it to continue forever even if your legs hurt like hell.

"S'okay... y.. you can cum inside..!" You don't know what possessed you to say that, you know what'll happen if he cums inside. But the risk of it is tantalizing enough to make you forget all of your reasoning and clarity. "So.. make sure to cum inside a loー"

You aren't given a second to breathe, much less hold in your lewd moans as Uramichi pounds down into you faster, harder, leaving you a shaking mess barely clinging onto him. Each of his vigorous thrusts pushes his cock further inside your plush walls, heavy balls smacking against your puffy folds as he rasps and groans like a man starved.

"Shit, s'so fuckin' tight.. so damn good.." His nibs and wetly sucks at your neck without thought as though it's the only thing he knows, "Fuck, it's—I'm--!"

It's odd, the sensation of your pussy being filled with thick spurts of Uramichi's release, but you can't deny that it feels good. Your mind feels like mush, vision blurry as you cum around his length. Choked sobs and weak whimpers of his name are the only noises you can make, the overwhelming good rendering you stupid.

Your stomach now feels warm, fuller than you ever felt before. It's a nice feeling, having Uramichi's thick cum spilt inside your pussy, even if you're risking getting knocked up. You decide that you'd like him to cum inside again.

Wheezing, you rapidly blink away the fat tears filling your eyes and attempt to flex your toes, and heave a sigh when the digits give a weak twitch. Good, your legs are at least still somewhat functional.

"Hey.. you okay?" A soft kiss is pressed against your jaw, and your boyfriend's handsome visage is gazing down at you fondly, as though he hadn't just fucked you senseless moments before.

"Yeah," you release air that you didn't even know you were holding in. He smiles fondly and nods, before collapsing his forehead against your collarbone. He breathes in your scent, basking in the passing moment of your togetherness. Your legs are numb now, but you don't care, not right now.

" 'Michi?"

"Hm?" He shifts against your neck, listening in his dazed state.

"Can you cum inside me again?♡"

#lati thirsts #uramichi oniisan #uramichi x reader #uramichi smut #uramichi omota x reader #uramichi omota smut

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wontontrap · 5 months

Text

Fast & Loud | 18+

90s Eddie with a goth raver

AU where they won and everything is normal 🥲

This is my first smut, enjoy! ♥

Word count 2.6k

TW: rough sex, choking, manhandling, semi-public sex, hallucinogenic drug use (descriptions of uncomfortable trip symptoms), unprotected sex (fuck responsibly irl folks), mentions of knife play, mentions of gangbanging, mentions of human sacrifice

Middle of nowhere and fucked in the back of a van by the Hawkins Cult Killer. Yet she was the dangerous one.

♰ smut under the cut ♰

Once the charges of '86 were dropped, everyone wanted to see Corroded Coffin live, and every girl with a bad boy fetish wanted to fuck the Hawkins Cult Killer.

Eddie was a lover at heart, and it took him a while to get used to the women who wanted it violent. He retired his handcuff belt a few years ago. It both aged him and made him look kitsch, but he realized now that the past groupies who complimented him on his belt leaned towards the more macabre ways in the bedroom.

He remembers the night a bombshell blonde asked him to put his bowie knife to her throat in the back of the van. She was completely bare with a body like a playboy centerfold. Sick in the head with the wettest pussy he'd ever been in. He came quick that night, railing her hard. It was absolute abuse. He never played dangerous games in the bedroom again but when he was alone at night, or when he was having trouble finishing with a partner, he'd remember it. It always made him wonder if he was really the terrible person everyone still thought he was.

He eventually tired of the women who asked him and the other band members to sacrifice them, gangbang them, or worse. He quit the music scene and dissolved the band in 1990, after four years of touring the small circuit. They could've been big, but he hated to be thought of that way - to sell out in that way. To sell his soul he worked so hard to save, that others had laid their lives and reputations on the line to protect. He took the money from the two years of touring and bought he and his uncle a real home, allowing Wayne to retire early. He took a respectable job at a local factory and even joined the union.

It was now 1994 and the metal scene was almost non-existent. It had been choked out by the monotonous drone of the grunge era and something called nu-metal was beginning to seep into the zeitgeist. Cobain was gone and labels scrambled to fill the Nirvana void. Some months ago, Eddie received a phone call from someone claiming to be a label scout wanting to discuss rebranding Corroded Coffin to "Corroded", and dampening their sound. He impolitely declined.

There was one new genre that Eddie didn't mind.

Trance.

House.

The music played at raves. It was fast and loud like metal. Booming base and intricate electronic melodies reminding him of the solos he used to play on stage. The more illegal the venue, the better. He loved to lurk within them, a wallflower. The drugs were free, and the people were freer. Tonight he drove all the way to downtown Indianapolis. A large abandoned building in the old coal district.

No one was ever watching the door at these things. He made his way up to the main entrance and heard a hushed toned behind him say, "Do you think that's really him?"

A much harsher but just as hushed tone responded, “You'd think he’d at least change his look. Sad really. How obvious.”

He was used to still being a pariah back home, but hearing that interaction made him feel a moment of deep despondency. Still, he persisted through the crowd, finding the perfect spot to smoke the rest of his cigarettes while feeling the deep base within his chest. He was incredibly lucky to have found another genre as cleansing to him as his first love of metal.

He scanned the dance floor, raves being a perfect place for so-called people watching. His eyes fixated on a young woman dancing atop a metal platform. medium height and black hair dressed in a leather skirt and corset. Already she had his attention. The sleeves of her cropped sweater were torn to shreds, held together by a scattering of safety pins and her torso was somewhat exposed, the corset putting her chest on full display for him. She had on the darkest of makeup, and her hair was gathered into two small buns, chopped up bangs framing her doll-like eyes. She looked liked something out of a corner store comic book, he thought. Her movements were quick and fluid and the flashing lights matching each beat gave the illusion that with each new sound she was magically in a new position.

She was entirely his type. The industrial gothic style reminded him of the metal babes he enjoyed so much back in the day.

She noticed him noticing her. And after a few glances she began to stare at him. He felt exposed somehow and turned his eyes away. He began looking for a path out of the crowd.

She jumped from the platform, jogging over to him. She grabbed his arm and called out “Wait, I know you!"

He turned to face her.

"You're Eddie Munson. You were Corroded Coffin's guitarist. She says with a smile, "I'd know that face anywhere.”

He responds with a crooked smile, bringing his nearly spent cigarette to his lips and taking a final drag. He flattens it between his thumb and forefinger as he begins to answer her, "Listen, you're not one of those-"

"I'm not a true crime groupie," she says, "I swear. I just recognized you from your band. I saw you play in ’89."

“Granted,” she begins again, “I used to dream about that face between my legs."

She laughed now, a bit awkwardly, which he thought was adorable.

He stays silent, letting his eyes do his talking. He scans her body from her cleavage, to her hips, hugged by that poor excuse for a leather skirt, and back up to those bright eyes.

She smiled ever so sweetly at him before saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look lonely. I can fix that."

He watched as she carefully placed a small tab of ecstasy on her tongue.

"Take this" she said, cupping his face in her hands.

She pulled his face to hers and he immediately opened in submission to her kiss. He hadn't tripped in some time, and there was no better time than now. This dark beauty already so down for him. When she pulled away he felt the tab begin to dissolve on his tongue, bitter and electric. She placed a different colored tab on her own and took his hand, leading him to dance.

His tolerance for harder drugs had diminished now that he was practicing the art of the upstanding citizen, rather than the depraved rockstar. In only minutes, the music began to muffle in his ears and his arms and legs began to grow heavy with tingling in his fingers and toes starting to follow. He felt the sweet swell of his cock hardening as she moved her body against his. He was never much for dancing, so he stood there with his head thrown back, basking in the flashing lights. He was only her prop and he was enjoying it. She put his hands where she wanted them, moving them closer and closer to the band of her leather skirt. She was only teasing him before she turned around to face him. She wrapped her leg around his waist and leaned backwards, dipping herself almost to the ground. In a flash, she was now inches away from his face, hands on his chest.

She kissed him again, deep, and he responded in kind. She pulled away from him and took his hand. They threaded themselves carefully through the crowd as she led him out of the venue and into the field of parked cars.

"Where's yours?" she asked, breathlessly.

Eddie tried to get his bearings, the cool night air returning some semblance of coherent thought to his mind, but his whole body still throbbed with ecstasy. He sounded the van's alarm and they soon made their way to the rear doors. He opened them and ushered her into the back. Once inside he fumbled with the latch, the drug she'd slipped him now in full effect. In the enclosed space he began to breathe heavily, and flopped himself on a heap of nearby dusty blankets.

He felt as if he were cooking from the inside out, and he needed to touch himself. He shed his top layers before unzipping his jeans and wrapping his hand around his cock. He sighed in relief. He stroked himself and continued to sigh and hum.

"You sound so sweet, killer." he heard her say.

In his haze he'd forgotten she was there. He turned to find her laid on her stomach, ass up and moving it up and down slowly as her soaking wet cunt swallowed her fingers over and over again. Her heavy boots thrown into the corner, she hadn't taken off her fishnet stockings. Nothing was stopping her from delving her first two fingers into herself through the large holes. No panties, he thought.

In complete drug lust, he crawled over to her and tasted her. She removed her fingers, sighing deeply. She raised her body into a better position, giving him full access to her. He quickly brought her over the edge with his tongue while she let out the most gorgeous moans. She returned the favor in kind, swallowing his cock over and over again until her makeup ran from her doll eyes and he dripped from her chin. Still reeling from the X, he wasn't surprised he was ready to go again so soon. Those damn tights, he thought, as they laid bare her center. They were perfect for him to push right into her, but he couldn't help ripping them from her body.

“Has anyone ever told you,” she starts, “that you are the most beautiful color.”

He stares into her eyes, her blown pupils threatening to overtake those bright irises.

"You sound different than I feel,” he remarks.

"Because I didn't take X,” she says laughing, "I dropped acid."

"Brat", he rasps.

"What're you gonna do about it, killer?" She asks, undoing her corset and tossing it to the side. She gave him the greediest look.

He lifted her hips to his and easily pushed into her soaking wetness. He began a relentless pace.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he told her.

"Such a sloppy, sloppy cunt for such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

She mewled for him, reaching her hand down to rub her clit.

“You like to fuck criminals?” he asked her, “You like to fuck killers? That turn you on?”

His tone was reprimanding.

“No,” she replied, with a small giggle, “I like to fuck musicians.”

He cracked a smile then and pounded her even harder. She screamed and moaned and somehow wound up on top of him bouncing on his hard cock. She squeezed him hard like this, cumming with a small gush onto his pelvis. His rough hands played with her tits. Her cropped sweater was still on and without the corset it landed just at the swell of them. She leaned forward to grind against him as he continued to pound into her from below, both feet on the floor and back arched for leverage. She came again, shaking.

"Get on your knees for me,” he says.

She obliged him and once in position, he entered her again. With his pants still around his thighs, the metal of his belt made a rhythmic *clink* sound with each hard thrust, grazing the back of her thighs. He noticed when it did, she gave him an extra, more delicate moan. Just like all the rest of them, he thought.

The new position giving him better purchase, he continued to punish her sweet cunt the way she deserved. She showed him her appreciation by gushing again all over the van's carpet, while she screamed obscenities.

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear harshly, “Some mouth on you.”

She nuzzled into the side of his neck then, and he turned her face to his and kissed her deeply once more.

She let herself fall gently forward, rolling over, her legs still spread wide for him. He entered her more slowly this time, wrapping his hand around her neck and giving a small squeeze.

"This alright?" he asks, "You like this shit?"

She gave a small nod of approval before saying, "Do it, killer. Use me up."

At that, he relentlessly pounded her.

Through her loud whines and those mewls again, he asks, "You ever shut your mouth?"

"Shut it for me,” she snaps, and he continues his assault with one hand on her throat, and the other covering her mouth.

It's things like this that always did it for him, and he felt his end approaching. Quickly he pulled out of her and came on her still flushed chest. He continued to stroke his cock, riding out his own orgasm as his drug addled body shook and his brain drenched itself in every pleasure chemical. Below him, she reached her final orgasm by rubbing her swollen clit while looking him dead in the eyes.

Middle of nowhere and fucked in the back of a van by the Hawkins Cult Killer. Yet she was the dangerous one, he thought.

"Do you know what color you are?" she asks him, after a few moments of silence.

"Go on, tell me" he says, as he tucks himself back in.

Legs still spread, fingers ghosting over her sensitive cunt, she says "You're fire, killer. Fiery red, but sometimes you're all orange embers and black ash."

He had to get her out of here. The X threatening to creep up on him again. He didn't think she could take another round, not with what he'd want to do to her now that he'd tested her waters well beyond his imaginings.

The complete surprise of this night began to set in as she sat up to dress herself with what was left of her outfit. No, he could never settle for lackluster head at the edge of the dance floor again.

He intently watched her finish dressing, and immediately after she threw open the van's rear doors. The chilled air ran over him and he put his flannel back on before hopping out and lighting a fresh cigarette. He offered it to her and she took her fill before starting her walk back to the ongoing rave.

"Hey!" he called after her.

She turned around to face him.

"What's your name?"

"Miranda," she says, through that adorable laughter.

"Lemme see it one more time, Miranda.”

She leaned back on the hood of the car next to her, and spread her legs wide. No panties and no stockings now either. She teased him by spreading her pussy for him. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground, and crossed the space between them.

He dropped to his knees and gave her pussy the sloppiest kiss. Soon he was flicking his tongue over her clit while her cunt swallowed his fingers knuckle deep, stopping at his large rings. She shivered at the cold sensation each time.

“You ring so red!” she cried out.

She grabbed a handful of his curls and started to grind on his face. He removed his fingers from her and she heard the distinct sound of his belt being unbuckled. He stood up, cock ready once again. He grabbed her corset at the plunge and ripped it clean in half, revealing her tits to him again. She gasped at the action.

"That's better,” he whispered.

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joshusten · 4 months

Text

love the sinner (albus york/faith koria, bastard warrior || good boy audios)

Albus York takes a bath and Faithful washes his hair. (angst, slight argument, hurt/comfort)

2.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist] [CW/notes: religious imagery ofc (this fic was basically an excuse to write that), typical albus york language, lots of self-loathing and some suicidal thoughts. albus is just having a bad time but hes also so whipped for faithful. speaking of her, i didnt make faith's physical descriptions vague or made it so that she's a "listener" but rather a character of her own! and i based it off of gba's description of her + my own interpretation hehe.]

once again THANK YOU SO SO MUCH to @slushiepizza for all the AMAZING suggestions and support like omfg i SWEAR i keep on saying this but this fic rlly wouldnt be finished without them!! i appreciate it sm!! and im shaking and kissing my irls that ive also bothered with this fic that will probably not see this THANK U SM!! edit: I FORGOT THE FUCKING READ MORE LMFAO

—

Albus York steadily sank into the half-filled tub of one of the ship’s quarters—stripped of his clothes, and left bare to no witness.

Gentle waves of the bathwater rippled against hardened, battle-torn skin. He dementedly mused that if he could go down further, he might finally drown.

He chuckled at the thought, shifted his position, and got to work. It's been a while since he last had an actual bath—way before he even agreed to this suicide mission of an adventure—with warm soapy water and scented products.

The constant near-death experiences and whatnot had interrupted the trio to get any time for themselves, much less to do any sort of basic hygiene. Since the route Devlin had charted for the ship to follow allowed for ample downtime, the Forgemaster had practically shoved his younger half-brother into the common bathroom and forced him to take a much-needed bath (Of course, not without a snobby comment about how his stench matched his personality perfectly well.)

Albus’ inexperience was made clearer with the stiff, awkward motion of his large, calloused hands as he attempted to wash himself. The unpracticed movement made the unfamiliarity of it all fully realized. How long has it been since he felt this safe? Does he even remember how to take care of himself?

Does someone like him even deserve this luxury?

The warrior submerged himself lower, down until his eyes were right above water level. He was thinking again. It was all that he had been doing for the past hour. If the gods wouldn't allow him to drown, then he hoped that the water would at least cleanse the grime and sin embedded into his flesh.

But he knew that filth clung to his skin like how a believer clings to the idea of repentance. No matter how hard—how desperately—he scrubbed (until pale skin turned into blood red, until rough turned rougher), it was all pointless. He had learned long ago that a bastard's prayers were never left answered.

The mark on his chest was a bleak reminder of that reality. Damnation was basically his birthright. Albus York was dead the moment he came out of his mother’s womb—dead to his family, dead to society.

Cursed to hell for being sin itself.

Life had a funny way to remind him—that goodness is something he can be in the presence of but never be a part of it.

"Albus?"

Speak of the devil, his ever-so-naive angel had arrived.

“Albus? Hello?”

Tender, serene, heavenly.

The voice was melodic—like the somber hymns he used to hear in his youth when his mother would take him into the temple and meet with her fellow brothers and sisters. At that time, he always felt drawn to the choir’s performance, despite not being old enough to understand the words (not that he was any more literate in the present). Back then, he was just a kid, blissfully unaware of the blasphemy he had committed for existing.

He had grown since then—in every aspect of the word.

"Albus! Are you still in there?"

A deep grunt, muffled slosh of water, and the pitter-patter of droplets on the tiled surface were all that Faith Koria had heard from the other side of the metal door before a familiar, gruff voice answered back.

"Calm ya tits, woman. I knew you were eager to see my dick but I never knew you were this eager!"

The outside replied with an annoyed groan, a sound Albus was all too familiar with, especially when it came from her. That being said, he couldn't fight the smile forming on his lips as he hastily dried himself up with a nearby towel.

"You've been using the bathroom for more than an hour, just what are you doing in there? Some people want to get cleaned up too, you know!”

The metal door swiftly slid open with a sudden 'woosh!', hot steam dissipating before the runaway nun to reveal Albus’ tall stature, half-naked and slightly dripping wet. Faith frantically averted her eyes on instinct, ears immediately burning with embarrassment. It wasn’t like it was her first time seeing him undressed—for gods’ sake, she treated his wounds like this when they first met! But to have him fresh out of a bath with his toned body exposed and his dampened long hair was—Wait! His hair!

"Alright, alright! I’m out, ya happy? I’m decent too so you don’t have to be a prude about it,” The bastard huffed, a little irritated with how his peaceful bath (or at least, as peaceful as it could be) was abruptly cut short.

“Albus, your hair!”

The man scrunched up his face in confusion. He gathered one of his dark locks and examined it with an intense focus. “Huh? Looks fine to me. What, you're not expecting me to be all prim and proper now, are you?”

“No, no, no! It's all matted and uneven!” The woman replied with a horrified concern in her voice that was rare for the warrior to hear directed at him.“It’s probably from all those monster attacks. Some of them must’ve managed to get to your hair! How long has it been like this? Does it hurt? Do you even have shampoo?”

“Uh…what’s that?”

“Ugh, never mind. Just—” Before Albus could process what was happening, Faith grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip for a nun. She dragged him down near the bathtub he just got out of. He can even hear the water still slowly swirling down the drain.

“Faithful, what are you—”

“Stay right here. You got that, York? I’m just going to get something and I don't want you to move a muscle.”

A deep chuckle resonated within the man’s scarred chest—he always enjoyed it when she got this bossy. He gave her a mock salute and answered with a hearty “Yes, ma’am!”

The sister paladin made a face, letting out a flustered huff before hurrying to wherever she needed to be. So cute.

Albus had put on his clothes at this point while he waited (lest he risked Faithful suffering from a heart attack). A few minutes had passed by when she returned with a rather large pouch that Albus recognized was packed with the rest of her belongings. He deduced it must've been from her childhood with how worn down the embroidery was. Once vibrant floral patterns dulled from years of usage.

“Lean back by the bathtub,” Faith instructed. “I’m going to start detangling your hair. I might cut off some of the more unsalvageable parts too. If anything hurts or if I snagged on it too hard just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” The man repeated simply, not really knowing how to react to all of the amount of consideration he was receiving. Abrasiveness was what he was more used to responding to, not the care that she unabashedly gave him.

She beamed brightly at his compliance (and no, his heart did not just skip a beat), soft hands found their way to his head and started brushing away the more manageable tangles before using a wide-tooth comb for the bigger ones. Despite the numerous warnings, her fingers were nowhere near to being rough. She was as gentle as a lamb—her slow brushstrokes eventually formed a rhythm that filled in the silence of the room. Albus decided to break the comfortable atmosphere.

“How are you so good with this shit?” He mumbled, voice heavy with drowsiness. Fuck, he felt like he could sleep until his next life. “Never knew sisters of Cindergorn get to be part-time hairdressers too.”

Even with his sluggish state, Albus could almost sense the nun’s eyes rolling above him, brushing out his hair with a slightly more forceful than usual tug.

“I'm the one usually taking care of the children at the temple. I’m used to seeing this kind of stuff whenever they play too hard. Obviously not on this level but you get the gist.” Faith snipped off the last of a particularly challenging knot.

“I've also been doing my own hair ever since I was a kid, so really, it's like second nature to me at this point,” she followed up, running her fingers through his hair with a satisfied nod.

Now that Albus thought about it, he had seen Faithful braiding herself earlier on their journey when they had just…tastefully borrowed the flagship meant for his father. He remembered swift, practiced hands twisting sections after sections of dark, coiled hair and had mentioned in passing how it was a hairstyle she often did to withstand the Eastern Faithlands' harsher seasons (Fortunately, it also turned out to be great for going-on-a-quest-to-kill-your-priest-brother-and-save-a-child seasons too.)

Faith’s hands suddenly paused. Before the man could ask if something was wrong, she signaled him to stay still while she rummaged through the pouch to get a small bottle. She squeezed a moderate amount of product into her palm and spread it evenly. As she was about to apply the substance to his head, Albus jerked away, quickly stopping her hand with his own as a furrow formed on his thick brows.

“Faithful,” He chuckled. “Please, I’m a warrior. You don’t need to waste your fancy shit on me. My hair’s going to get fucked up again eventually so what’s the point?”

Faith struggled to wriggle herself out of his grasp. “Wha–Albus, it’s fine!”

“No, Faithful, I’m serious. It’s just hair. Hell, it’s my hair. Relax.” The man sat up straighter at this point, the water from his long, damp hair trickling down along the scarred tissue of his back but it was the intensity in those familiar brown eyes that made him feel a chill.

“And I told you it’s fine just let me—”

“Why are you making it a big fuckin’ deal? What do you want from me?”

“What?” Faith’s voice cracked, appalled and confused. “Albus, what are you even talking about? I’m not asking for anything—”

“I’m just a bastard you hired to kill your brother! I was paid to do the dirty work for you, not to be your fucking toy—”

“Albus, wha—Y–You’re not a toy! Why do you—”

“If I’m not then why are you being like this to me? There’s a catch—there’s always a fucking catch. So what the fuck do you want from me?”

The nun managed to finally yank her hand away from his harsh grip and angrily slammed at the smooth surface of the tub.

“I just want you to stop being stubborn for once and let me do this for you!”

The silence that followed between them felt suffocating.

Faith’s breath hitched, shocked by her outburst. She immediately straightened up her posture only to look down shamefully at the tiled floor. A shaky sigh left her lips, and Albus was doing everything in his power to stop himself from reaching out to her, seeking salvation he knew she shouldn’t give him because he was not sorry that he was like this. He wasn’t afraid to show his filth to the world because it was all he knew to do—all he was taught to do. There’s no excuse, no justification, no escape. She’s everything good and he’s just scum or worse yet—he’s a bastard.

Because she’s an angel and he’s far worse than the devil.

“This isn't anything all that fancy…just something to keep it healthy and less stressful on your scalp. I just want you to feel okay. So please…” She trailed off. “Let me.”

“It’s…It’s just hair, Faithful. I’ll be okay, I’m a big boy,” Albus joked, but his words were sincere. He almost found the whole thing amusing—having the ever-so-snappy sister paladin fuss over him—if he didn’t get a feel for how much…his comfort seemed to mean a lot to her.

Faith pursed her lips, her gaze still fixed downward. “I just think…you deserve at least one good hair day.”

It's that word again. Deserve. Does she really think that? That he's worthy of all of this?

The man cleared his throat with a curt nod. Hesitantly, the nun's fingers slowly found their way back to the crown of his head, resuming whatever she was supposed to do. Steady, rhythmic brushstrokes filled the quiet once again.

After what felt like hours of stillness, the bastard dared himself to shift his head and face her timidly—as if he was afraid he could melt under her piercing gaze.

"Thank you, for…for this," Albus grunted. He hadn't only meant for his hair.

Faith graced him with a dimpled smile—the one that made her eyes squint and showed the tiniest bit of the gap between her front teeth. She proceeded to tuck away a stray lock behind his ear, trailing down to hover over his cheek. Albus can practically feel the nervous tremble on her fingers as if she were hesitating on something. It all came to nothing in the end, closing her hands in a fist before withdrawing to her pouch to start cleaning up.

“Anytime, Albus. Besides, with how you always manage to find yourself in trouble,” the sister murmured, her voice playful (it never failed to leave Albus’ mind racing). Her eyes glinted as they locked into his almost like clockwork. “How can I not?”

Albus York sat by the empty bathtub of the ship’s quarters—fully clothed yet he had felt the most bare that he had ever been in front of someone.

Faith smiled at him again and he swore he could make out the faintest halo crowning her head under the fluorescent bathroom light. ---- a/n: this is probably my most favorite fic that i wrote and i hope you enjoyed! lemme tell u this fic took way to long and got me so stressed for no reason idk ! i was worrying abt how this would happen in the timeline and all the lil details and then !! its a fic!! and im suppose to be having fun!! i am being self-indulgent!! (although i hope was able to characterize them well) again, feedback and comments r highly appreciated!! :DD have a good day/night and thank you for reading!!

#good boy audios #gba albus #albus york #gba bastard warrior #gba faithful #gba fanfic #THIS TOOK WAY TOO LOOOOOONG BUT ITS FINISHED see you guys next year /j

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kadextra · 23 days

Text

LETS GO rambling and analysis time now that I finished part one

MAJOR MAJOR spoilers under the cut

KAI

NOOOOO how is he gonna get out??? I will say him as the first to use rising dragon felt extremely deserved, I clapped and cheered during that fight scene. but now he’s stuck in the netherworld with the remaining forbidden five and that’s scary.

teared up seeing Nya activate her rising dragon style in her grief for him. in the next part she’s gonna find out Jay forgot who she is too… so much heartache for Nya 😞

really enjoyed Bonzle in these episodes as well, learning about her origin of being a spell, her journey of discovering herself as a person and finding a found family :’) at least she’s with Kai now….

and I’ve felt terrible for Lloyd every episode. him getting slammed by those visions constantly, unexpectedly, even in the middle of a fight which sends him spiraling, that’s so rough :((

It’s obvious they’re a representation of panic attacks/he has developed a canon panic disorder- like Lloyd literally says it at one point. they happen suddenly, give anxious fear about present and future events, he gets scared about having another one so he tries to cope by not sleeping (unhealthy coping method) and is taught later on to try accepting the feelings and ride it out which is a way irl therapists teach. good to see some more exploration of mental health in this show!! I’m glad the other characters are taking notice and trying to help too in the ways they can

speaking of mental health, Arin has been interesting to watch. he’s reading to me more as an autistic-coded character lately (like that line about not understanding social cues???) and we’ve been seeing lots more negative self-esteem issues and insecurity from him. watching him make mistakes during the training sessions, get scolded, then close himself off was hard to listen to

how Sora decided to hide the truth about Arin’s “spinjitzu move” that saved the day at the end so he would feel proud of himself for achieving something hurt my heart- she is such a sweet friend who wants her bestie to be happy but like. keeping secrets is gonna have consequences down the line... and moreso it’s just painful to see how deeply Arin’s self-worth is tied to what he’s capable of doing, what he can do for the team. he’s already insecure how would he feel to find out ppl are lying so he can be happy? he’s a string that’s gonna snap one day and judging from that beatdown moment with Lord Ras it’s not going to be pretty, I sense some sort of villain arc approaching for our son

someone send these people to therapy they’re so traumatized

in another news: Cole and Geo gay love! homosexuals! maybe a QPR! I don’t care whatever it is, it’s clear they love each other

it wouldn’t be a ninjago season without the destiny’s bounty crashing and burning <333 and it was nice seeing Jay for 10 seconds again <3333

now my current question is what’s the source dragon tournament thing Lord Ras’ master is talking about??? tournament?? 👀 it’s basically implied that master is a source dragon or a being that rivals their power

can’t wait for the next part to release agugugsjkhkdbqjdpgsiduggjneosgktnalfhdiqkwkfjfialwkg

#ninjago #ninjago spoilers #ninjago analysis #ninjago dragons rising

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a-random-weeb · 14 days

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Hiii love ur account! Idk if I can request cause it says it’s closed, so sorry if I’m wrong!

Can I please request a yandere who looks very dominant; tall and buff with muscles. Literally everyone is scared of him because of how frightening he looks. Everyone other than Reader: Yandere is actually scared of reader and is very submissive around them. He actively seeks Reader’s approval and will do anything for her. Kind of like a guard dog? He’s really just a big puppy who craves Readers affection. Thank youuuu

Awww I love this idea!! Let's name him... Austyn, idk it just fits lol. I couldn't think of what age to make him, so I said screw it and put yall in high-school because that's the easiest

Also I know you requested this months ago, and everyone else requested their things months ago, guys I've been so tired recently, I'm so sorry I haven't been able to write what you've been wanting me to. I'm so sorry if you're still waiting on your request, and I'm hoping I'll get more chances to write soon. Thank you for your patience :)

Warnings: Yandere (obv), clingy and obsessive behavior, a little more than just mentions of murder, slight mentions of rape (not to reader or anything i just noticed it was brought up so I figured I'd put it in just incase), reader gets forcefully drugged, kidnapping

This fic is not meant to romanticize unhealthy and toxic relationships, it's hot af in fanfictions but is never ok irl

°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~

A huge man towers over you, his shadow engulfing your entire figure, his huge muscles and rough exterior making him appear as if he could kill. He stares down at your petite and fragile body in an intimidating manner as you jolt up in a sitting position. Clutching the desk beneath your upper body, you recognize him almost immediately.

"Where am I?! What do you want?!" You scream dramatically, almost tipping backwards in your chair.

"You fell asleep in class." His eyes narrow. "I had to poke you a bunch so you would wake up. The bell just rang, its lunch time." Your whole face burns a cherry color.

"Um- thanks..." Your eyes wander anywhere but his face. The corners of his mouth ever so slighty elevate as he leans on your desk.

"Would you like to eat lunch together?" He tilts his head slightly in an almost cute way. Your brows furrow in confusion, but nod regardless out of pure fear. He could probably kill you in one hit. No, simply him blowing on you would be enough to knock you 8 miles. You pack your school supplies and walk to your locker, Austyn almost breathing down your back as he watches you grab your stuff.

Entering the cafeteria, you both take a seat in one of the only spots left in the overcrowded area, its a bit shocking when kids start scooting away from you both, even the kids across from you want nothing to do with your new 'friend'. Or thats at least what you hope he wants with you...

Your prayers were answered, but in the worst way possible. It's almost physically painful watching Austyn attempt to make conversation with you. Stuttering over every second word, obviously embarrassed and anxious, fumbling with his hands. It was... cute. You'd never thought he would be like this while talking to him, you've seen him be rude and cold to everyone, maybe he's just shy and comes off as rude? Guess you'll find out. You, having not as many friends as you'd like to have, appreciate the attention from him regardless. But he desperately needed help with this whole social thing, so you give him a hand.

"If you're not busy, maybe you could help me with homework after we finish eating?" You smile, hoping he's not busy before you die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he nods, and the two of you finish your meal in silence.

You were hoping he'd be a little more outgoing and not as awkward in the library, but boy were you wrong. More stuttering, more avoidance of eye contact, more hand fidgeting. He wasnt even helping, just sitting there and watching you, almost too intently. You almost scream of joy when your best and only friend, Abby, joins you.

"Hi!" She beams excitedly, taking a seat next to you, "need help?"

"You're my savior!" You giggle, hugging her. Austyns aura immediately chances from a shy puppy to one that could kill. He glares daggers into Abby as she speaks a bit too friendly to you, gets a little too close to you, helps you instead of him. He knows he needs to up his game, but your stupid friend might ruin his chances.

Abby was your friend since elementary school, you've never been great at giving anyone a smile, but she always brings out your biggest one. She's helped you through so much, you owe her your life!

The rest of lunch Austyn stays silent and in the background, you assume he's shy... God, you hope that he was not hurt. You continued the rest of your classes like normal, overjoyed when the day comes to an end.

You and Abby walk home together, teasing and laughing with eachother. Austyn trails behind you both, not talking too much. Neither of you know where Austyn lives, and forget to ask. They drop you off at your house, and Abby lives just across the street so you guess Austyn walks her home. The long between your houses and the school is 30 minutes. You could take the bus, and you do in the mornings, but the walk is too beautiful to miss, so fun laughing with your best friend through the sunset in the city, too fun running through the long field of grass, racing down the streets, seeing who can reach your house the fastest, rubbing it in your face as you both either collapse on your porch or Abby goes home. Sometimes, you dance outside together, sharing secrets, giggling over whatever crush the other one has... Abbys friends with almost everyone, but the two of you are inseparable. Tonight though, you only talked with Abby, not wanting to make Austyn feel left out, and not wanting to seem awkward infront of your new friend. You run inside, jumping into your bed, thinking Austyn is just a little cute. Maybe a tiny crush? You don't think on it too much, as you pass out.

The next day, Austyn starts hanging out with you and Abby, which neither of you mind. He's a bit less shy and a bit more friendly. He's in your homeroom, science, and math class, so you sat next to him in all of those. You guys talked and exchanged answers from time to time, overall getting along very well. You guys hang out at lunch, and sure, you give a slight bit more attention to Abby, but thats it, and overall, the three of you get along like three peas in a pod. The next four days go similarly, your crush for him grows.

One lunch time the three of you meet up, eat, and head to the library. You weren't sure what was wrong, but Austyn didn't seem to be a huge fan of Abby, only hanging out and attempting to make conversation with you, almost cutting Abby out. You, of course, refuse to let that happen, and keep adding your friend the the conversation. You and Abby exchange a confused look, Austyn normally loves you and Abby.

After school the same day, you run over to Abbys locker, waiting for her to grab her stuff. You wait for 5 minutes... 10 minutes... 20 minutes... she doesn't show up. Thinking it's a bit strange, you still wait, assuming she was held back in class or something, as the teachers often like to praise her work or offer her opportunities for an upcoming math competition or something. She appears, after awhile, running towards you. The two of you begin to walk home together. When you ask her what she was doing, she awkwardly dodges the question. You leave her alone about it.

The next day when you arrive at school, Abby still didn't show up. How strange, you think to yourself. Abby hasn't missed a single day this year, not even when she was sick, you have no clue how she does it. Straight As, no days missed, friends with everyone she talks to, yet she's not here. You couldn't help but feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to assume the worst. You would've thought she'd at least text you right? The more you thought about it the worse it got. What if she was raped by a creepy teacher?? What if she was kidnapped?! Maybe she got a deadly sickness and has three days to live! There's so many possibilities you weren't sure, what if-

"Hey!" Your new 'friend' from yesterday appears before you, looking like he's accomplished something great.

"Hi...?" You look up at him, calming yourself immediately. You knew you shouldn't overthink this, she probably just missed her bus or something. Austyn obviously picks up on your torn face as he asks,

"Hey, are you ok? You look offput..." he does his signature, puppy-like head tilt. you quickly nod your head, laughing to yourself silently of the stupidity of your overdramatic thoughts. You weren't normally so anxious, this over worried about your friend not being at school immediately, but for some reason, your gut was screaming at you that something bad happened. And then... The overwhelming feeling to run hits you. Looking at Austyns smile fills you with a strange sense of dread. White noise echos in your ears.

"Woah, woah, calm down!" He panics, "Hey what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Hes acting way too friendly today... you shake your head.

"I-I don't know what's wrong with me today? I guess it's just a weird day....?" Austyn rushes to wipe some tears you didn't notice were were falling from your eyes.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it...." he sighs "I don't know what happened, but stop worrying."

Abby was murdered.

You don't know how you know, last night was such a haze... what happened...? Pictures of her dead body flash in your mind, the killer standing there with a knife and sadistic smile. You swear it was a dream... you remember beginning your walk home, but can't remember anything passed the midway point, not even what you did last night, did you even eat dinner? You didn't wear pajamas last night, you assumed you were just tired when you woke up. But did you really see Abbys murder or is this just the most dramatic you've ever been on a Wensday morning?

You continued your day like normal, the sinking feeling never leaving you. Austyn was acting strange, outgoing and sweet to you. And yet his face was making you want to throw up for some reason... to go as far as to flee the country. Well, maybe not that far, but you certainly didn't want him near you for some reason.

The end of the days comes, and your dumbass told Austyn he could walk you home. It was probably fine, you'd go to sleep tonight and tomorrow everything would be normal, Abby would be at school and Austyn wouldn't be as creepy to you. You're sure of it.

You wait for him near the entrance of the school, and of course, when he comes out, he's almost stumbling over his own feet to run towards you.

"Hey!" He gives a huge innocent smile as he begins walking with you, clutching the arms of his backpack in a shy manner. You smile up at him, not sure if it's a real smile or not. No words are exchanged as you both watch little cracks of the sunset through all the large buildings of the city. It wasn't cold, but it definitely wasn't hot, the perfect night for a first kiss. Stars beginning to appear as you make your way out of downtown, you've only been walking for 15 minutes... almost the midway point... you have a much better view of the now gone sun, there's still a bit of red. There's no one around, it's a gorgeous night, you're walking home with a guy... everything should be perfect, it should be romantic. You recognize this, Deja vu, but different.... memories from what you think to be the dream, or a cruel reality you weren't sure yet start to appear. Abbys lifeless body in the long grass, the moonlight to the killers back, you know who it was, but you can't remember.... all these events took place just upahead and-

It wasn't a dream.

Blood stains lay in the grass and you point to Austyn, not in control of your body or the words that spill from your mouth, or the tears that spill from your mouth, or the puke that's about to spill from your mouth.

"You did this... didn't you...?"

Austyns eyes darken, "and you remember. I knew the sedatives wouldn't work as well as I wanted them to..." he sighs "I did this for you, don't you see?! I killed her for you. I've loved you for so long and you've never even looked at me. So I stalked you, learned about you, you're so cute yknow! You never laughed the same way around me as you did with Abby, ramble to me as you did with her.... So now our problem is gone, and we can be the cutest couple!" He spits delusionally. You back away from him, the moon to his back, the same spot as last night. He grabs your wrist harshly, overpowering you easily.

"You can't run darling, now let's go to my house!" He beams, "I'll even bring you home the head of someone you don't like!" You thrash around, screaming for help, but Austyn just giggles and hugs you to him, holding one hand around your arms and torso and the other over your mouth. "Shhhhh, it'll be ok!" He puts a chloroform filled cloth to your mouth, and everything goes dark.

Maybe I'll write a part 2, maybe I'll do headcannons, maybe I'll leave you guys to imagine the rest, we'll see :3

#Yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #soft yandere #tw yandere #Yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #I'm sorry I left for so long TvT #Did yall miss me? :'3 #yandere oc #Dark yandere #Yandere puppy

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