#TW: dark thoughts

[anchanted-one]

Tired. Very tired. Can I switch to easy mode, please? Can I reload a save point? Can I get some cheat codes? Or can I just find an end game button that makes everyone forget?

[captainkurosolaire]

Tailspin

A rolling tumbleweed traversing desolate desert, scattered across a Saloon, house for cretins which felt lost. Offering salvation in nectar. One drink, became two, three and eventually, your issues were gone. Albeit once snapped out of it, everything else was too.

The precipice of a familiar setting. It cost him before, history held the habit to repeat. Seated, tankard a grog almost finished. Standing on a mental ledge.

He felt worthless, telling people that it’s going to be okay, shouting you’ve got to win, only to falter. This building was where the downward spiral occurred formerly. Allowing, ‘Un’, a specter of misery to consume him. Manifesting a nagging conscience who served small, inferior, and gave it control.

Plummeting further into depravity. Felt he was a creature of flight, airborne, whelmed with turbulence that threatened to crash and collide into the ground.

Unshakable hope, said he could still pull up. Relapse or command a resiliency.

Reflecting, silencing noises of the establishment’s ambiance. Judas prior in a crushing way, advised him to use his thoughts. Serving close, although it was strictly platonic, chemistry, and matching bond felt richer than many couples who claimed love.

Culprit behind this betrayal, took advantage of closeness, peaking into rifts. Inflicting Captain to strike wrongly… Orchestrating this proved chaos was enjoyed. The down-bad heathen began crossing analyzing Crewmates, on potential motives. A singular bullet within the chamber to get the truth, unwilling to falsely accuse.

Wasn’t his daughter, Klethera, despite last seen publicly at bedside before the crime commenced. A grievance too raw, she lashed out. When news broke Captain confronted her after learning she volunteered and admitted she was the one who slew the brother of the man waged against in the Six Layers pit.  Wishing to prevent, protect her, but she just questioned. “Why are you insistent to be my Father now? You weren’t for eighteen summers. I don’t need protection or coddling, I can manage without you.” Leaving him stunned, stormed out also on him. Naturally she was a spit-fire.. Unlike him, she held leaps of sense, understanding right from wrong, righteously seeking to do moral justice.

Surgeon Casta either wasn't able elicit harm. Purest innocence, despite challenges into breakable mistreatment, unfairness, everything stacked, she managed to keep herself and attitude afloat. For her compassion for others. Humanization inspired Captain right now, to contemplate. Even chosen to become a subordinate of Sinbad’s band. She admitted to being afraid, but her braveness leaped over expectations for the sake of her Captain.. A hero in her Tales she made him the protagonist. Saved by him long ago. Reality was she was his heroine.

Ubylagynn Gark, The Hellsguard Uncle of Crew, Quartermaster, gentle giant, brother of the Founding Captain. Although intense tension lingered after a threat that if Captain sulked again and moped in the Crimson Baron’s presence, he’d personally turn him into ashes and a fleece pelt. Flames from the crime scene were created with a standardized lighter. Gark’s fire aspect, didn’t require any carry-on nonsense.

Shelah, the Duskwight, sniper originated from part’s elsewhere, Isle of Amazonian’s, all women who were seers, were  nomadic and uncommon to using such devices and critically lacked knowledge outside their isolated habitat. She couldn’t have been the culprit either.

Zieton, Goldbrand Crew’s Historian, seemingly from an ancient era, incredibly bound of faith, vowed in Twelve’s Sake to sacred oath, he wouldn’t ever bring harm to anyone with his tremendous knowledge. A body was a temple of the divine and the conduit of their wishes. Joining strictly to retain the scattered Relic’s of the Twelve as his quest, reunite them to their rightful residence. This was far too barbaric and savage for this Elezen.

Nihlius, the unwanted Ghoul, outside grimly appearance, afflicted with appalling darkness, it was impractical for them to be the offender. Quite possibly served as Captain's most loyal, a monster… Unbelievable.

Ruling out these, who remained were candidates, potentially, the mastermind of dark.

Didn’t taste right to assume, Slafhota the person who actually pulled him from the fire, yet often in scenarios, the first on scene could be it. Her aetheric pattern when Captain first encountered her, he believed was an old enemy, a Primal of the Depths, someone who brought tremendous turmoil to Captain long-ago with his Crew of former, it took alliances, and managed to superbly unite to bring down that Siren Among Siren’s written about in fables, her civilization, terrorized, control mind’s and bent them effortlessly in song. It took War against that force, it built his fame throughout the Realm for holding a part to eviscerating that pollution. But he was wrong, cause confronted with this Sea Wolf, she was so far different. Notwithstanding his initial reading, nor instinct, she banished his thoughts. – Perhaps she has regained memories? Was she merely a reincarnation of that villain, hiding amongst that facade? A pretty surface, hiding the depths… There was weight to his concerns.

She not only cooked for this Crew, but was a counselor, someone reliable to confess their harboring feelings, providing balances of calming empathy. Anyone felt safe with her to open up too. He almost slipped into unruly habits, instead asked for her help and she provided warmth. It meant so much to help others, especially those wanting betterment. Felt she would NEVER give up on another. The commitment to care-taking was unrivaled.

Whyte an odd Viera, who really wasn’t. Glamoured only as her identity, laid only known by the Treasure Hunter, Captain. The product manifestation of a treasured relic that brought thoughts to life after traversing a Spiritual Ruins. She was Captain’s imaginary friend, as a child that was never given an actual vessel, she wasn’t real, if anyone else knew that... It would be her demise. Kuro convinced all Crew, she was a childhood friend from his orphanage. Unshakeable, though relic's didn’t carry all their effects, it could be cursed. Things that were buried, often proved better off this way. In the Captain’s twisted fragment, the treasure could’ve mirrored and warped her into other personality traits even outside his design.

Me-Me otherwise Gremlin referred, proved indescribable. They joined this Crew by her own volition and insistence, Captain overwhelmed with their mystique and not only really knew much about them, often they served to pull pranks although harmless, sought to amuse, get laughter out, rid gloom and replace for jolly… Or would con them out of their wealth. From everything Captain knew, Me-Me acted like a guardian. Her reasoning for joining this band was unfathomably beyond anyone. With hints and little display of prowess, they by far were the very, very, strongest. 

The Final individual suspect, Captain, chose to often play blind, despite Sol’s many, nonredeemable qualities, brief instances of cruelty, over-exhausting greed. Sol Akami, was Captain’s longest known Crewmate, being among every version of Crew. They were closer than most brothers. Back to back fighting and overall growing up together. Taught under the same Founding Captain, either one of them could’ve held the inheritance of the mantle. He led mercenaries, once owning a Silverbrand, the sister to the Goldbrand; they were always on a similar page. Overcoming events that were incomprehensible to normal. Both lost at sea, struggled with sin and vices. Sol took different stances, opposing path more, traditional in piracy, brutal, take-first, everything was subject to steal, he was borderline insane some days, unpredictable, dangerously borderline a Scourge. Giving off the worst of first impressions. Each were former slaves, Sol, was taken by the Garlemald in their rise. While Captain was a prisoner inundated by land.

Just cause you know someone, doesn’t mean you really do, especially in Captain’s world of piracy, a fact that ate him up. The Seeker wanted none of them to be the traitor, but one was.

Miqo'te resurfaced from his deep thoughts. A soothing feminine voice quizzically, “Another pour sweetie?” Scoundrel left in decision.

Loosening the hold on a drink, “Nay, thank ye though, beauty.” Paying up and choosing to walk beyond. He chose to attempt to remain resilient.

Unbeknownst to this tavern, his last time here, the miscreant acted in such a hellish manner. Brought physical pain to her that had her screaming at him, "Monster!!!" -- He overall was unpleasant to others, she didn’t even recognize him in this present-day, practically a dead man after-all. Blending into casual ware to offer concealment; his mere presence always brought pandemonium. As he departed. She collected the payment, given a additional mysterious pouch inside carried a rare jewelry that could change a life on wealth alone. Radiance, the value left a shone that reflected her most pleasant features. Confused and thinking it was a mistake, she chased after but he was long gone from visibility. The smallest token to make amends and he felt late. This gesture showed that the Pirate was determined to walk a new path that his predecessors never did. Despite unseen from her. Other studious eye’s from tavern patrons, gave pursuit and was tracking this Captain. A whiskey flask was mutually left to collect dust on the serving round-table, whoever drank this, was in the same disaster mental space of the Blackguard.

🌊 ♫The Grey♫ - Reference- Last Chapter 🌊

[enruiinas]

@ncfertari sent:

        what If you could go back in time at one event to change it would you and why? (Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer. // accepting!)

        tw: dark/morbid/bleak line of thinking ahead. (not quite a self-harm or suicide mention, but explores themes of regret and survivor's guilt.)

        This is a complicated question for Law. There are a lot of moments (both in his life specifically as well as the world around him) that Law would like to change in theory. The discovery of white lead in the first place (the substance, not the subsequent disease), giving Rosinante's missive to Vergo, perhaps the rage that had driven him to Spider Miles & joining the Donquixote family in the first place... These are all things he'd consider off the top of his head, but there are flaws to all of them.

        If it were for his own sake alone that changing the course of Flevance's history might affect, he wouldn't care so much, but there's no way of knowing how the town not gaining its fame and fortune through white lead might have affected his family's lives. He wishes like hell he'd given Rosinante's missive to anyone else. At times throughout the years, he's found himself thinking it would have been better if Corazon hadn't taken an interest in finding a cure for him at all. But he can't say he'd save him above saving his own family, and they can't be saved in a single moment, so ultimately, I think if Law could change one moment only, he would have stayed with Lami the night the hospital burned.

        It wouldn't have saved her, but he would have been with his family. He would never have met Corazon or Wolf or Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi, but he wouldn't have known he was missing anything: nobody would. A lot of bad that happened after that moment might not have happened at all, and he wouldn't have left his sister to die alone. The world would have gone on, and he wouldn't have been left alone wondering why he'd been the only one to survive and regretting leaving Lami behind.

[tinlizziedlinwa]

Don't read this.

I'm sooo damned tired on so many levels

My back is freaking killing me. I can't walk upright, it hurts like hell to stand up from my chair, and I probably couldn't get up at all if it didn't have good armrests I can push off against.

My neck is giving me stabbing "twinges" if I move my head too fast or too much.

Mental health has been in decline for years, and the last 6 or 8 months it's accelerated. I've been a chronic depressive for most of my life, with constant negative thoughts and a steady background of passive suicidal ideation. My baseline has usually been hoping that I'll go to sleep and never wake up again.

Well, that "baseline" is creeping a bit. Now I find myself wondering more and more about ways to end myself that won't make too much mess for others to clean up. I've always had self-destructive tendancies, and self-harm is commonplace. These last few months I've been smoking like a freaking chimney and my diet has gone to shit. Given my past cardiac history, I'm headed for another heart-attack. Of course I can't predict when it'll happen... it's kinda like I've put myself in Schroedinger's Cat's place. When the waveform finally collapses, I'm not calling 911. If that takes too long, there are options.

Does this mean I'm a selfish asshole? Possibly. Part of me doesn't care for that, but as a defense-mechanism on the survivor's behalf, I can't really blame them, either.

I could spend a million words blaming everyone else for all my problems... A part of me really does want to point fingers... But what purpose does that serve? That particular instinct of mine will only spread even more pain and won't benefit anyone.

My employment has most likely ended by now (I've not spoken with anyone at work in over a month), I've not made a mortgage payment since April, my bank accounts are empty. Soon, my time here will end and after a brief time closing down this "estate," nobody will have to think of me again. This existence will disappear.

So many times I've been made to feel like I'm a blight that others are forced to deal with. They'll breathe easier once I'm not taking their oxygen anymore.

I'm too damned introverted, with too many autistic traits (no, I've not been formally diagnosed) to ever "fit in." So many times my perspective on things is unwelcome. People have the reality they seem to desperately want to live in, and then I'd come around and wind up poking holes in their ideas and beliefs. My choices then get reduced to having to lie to myself, to lie to other people, to sacrifice my honor and integrity, and sit there quietly while molehills get piled up into mountains and shit burns all around. Things that should be at most a singular tempest in a teacup get turned into raging shitstorms for no good reason, while important long-term issues are swept under the rug. Consequences and spill-over effects completely ignored until they flare up and bite everyone on the ass.

I'm tired of the hypocrisy that seems inherent in human nature. People who can't even see that they're lying to themselves... I truly don't understand how they do it. But it's fucking everywhere.

If that's what "normal" is... no, thank you. I'm too tired to play those games. I've been browbeat too many times when I've spoken my mind.

This will be over soon.

[deeeaahh]

[deadtotheworld597]

I be checking my phone like I mean something to someone

😂silly fucking me 😂

[wonallofme]

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

[120daysofsodomm]

[j0celynh0rr0r]

Unbothered

[darkacademiboy]

[its-simply-just-krys]

anonymous ; found on pinterest

[sunniepoo]

your roommate never knew when to keep his hands off, even when you were asleep

cw: dubcon, somno, dark!jj

jj knew what he was doing was disgusting, he knew that it was pervy and creepy and gross and every name under the sun for just straight up wrong. it’s not that he didn’t feel bad but the pleasure and satisfaction he gained every night, jerking off into his hand with the image of you naked, with the pellets of water trickling down you wore greater than his conscious

when you’d moved in,a couple months ago, there was a silent reminder in his head to not scare you away or push any boundaries but he couldn’t help but have a slight inkling that you wanted him to prey, you wanted him to push and play to his limit. the way you would leave your panties laying out on the floor, it was like you wanted him to pick them up and fist them around his dick, inevitably cumming into them

or how you’d shower with the door open just enough so he could see the outline of your tits through the foggy shower door. he knew he sounded like a perv when ranting on about it to the brunette boy, hands flailing about, mumbling about how ‘she’s gotta be doing it on purpose…i mean - wh-why else” earning a questionable stare from john b who scoffs out about him being a full on classic creep

it was so so conflicting, he knew he shouldn’t - you were probably just being naive, your usual sweet mindset blurring the sultryness within your actions but he couldn’t help but use your actions as justification for what he was doing. you would’ve said something by now id it bothered you, right?

but it wasn’t always weird,there were quiet domestic moments aswell, like tonight.

the loud rumble of thunder was enough to make you squeal eliciting a soft laugh from the blonde in front of you, who continued to stuff food in his mouth “jayyy” the slight tease in your whine was impossible to miss as the word left your mouth “lets sleep together tonight” you ask, eyes opened wide and focused on him, leaving him to struggle to understand the meaning behind the question

“what” the blonde in front deadpans, ears in disbelief of what he’s hearing - mind already rushing to the stickiest of ickys

“just hate storms and m’gonna not be able to sleep” you respond and as the words fall from your mouth, his figure visibly relaxes as soon as he hears the nonchalance in your voice in your words - god he has to get his head out of the gutter!

“right-right…uhh yeah- i mean i don’t mind” he rambles, struggling to hide the rising pink in his cheek aswell as the rising boner in his pants. it was going to be so so so hard to behave well when you’d be right next to him, your pretty pussy just a couple inches away, how was he supposed to resist himself

“thanks jay’ make sure not to kick” you giggle before pressing a light kiss to the side of his cheek, continuing to walk off towards the bathroom. he couldn’t describe the feeling in his stomach as he watched you, excitement? guilt? shame? whatever it was, it had to be pushed down until the late night dawned upon the both of you - when he’ll find out how bad he can really be

the sight of you softly snoring in his bed, arms tucked beneath your head as you curled away from the wall, would have been cute if it wasn’t for the raging boner that poked through his boxers. you’d hit the sack quite early leaving jj and his twisted mind alone, jerking off in the shower of all the lewd fantasies stored in his head.

he wouldn’t. he couldn’t. that’s what the blonde repeated in his head as he rest beside you, keeping some distance between the two of you, trying to close his eyes and sleep - hoping his mind could clear before the morning. his large figure slowly relaxed, slowly drifting to sleep. and that’s when he felt it your leg carelessly shifting underneath the covers, grazing against his dick, making it jump.

he was convinced. you were doing it on purpose, you had to be. but when he saw your limp body, pressed against the bed, dead to the world around you, he couldn’t help but groan. what if you were truly so naive that all your actions were done out of pure thoughtlessness, he’d be disgusting- you’d probably never want to speak to him again

but it was getting impossibly hard to ignore your foot dancing around his already hard cock leading a soft groan from him. the call of your name from him falls on deaf ears as you continue to sleep, not aware of the turmoil you’re causing him. ‘god m’going to hell” he whispers to himself as he shifts closer, forehead hovering over yours

he wished he could blame it on something like he’d drunk to much or that he was high out of his mind, but he wasn’t - the only drug that consumed him was the presence of you, clouding his every thought and action. the long strand of blonde that kissed his forehead now grazed against yours as his fingers traced down the length of your body, dipping between your legs, rubbing against your clothed mound.

the heat between your legs was enough to warm him on the unseasonably cold night, thumb stroking against your clit causing you to shift. he panicked for a second, taking your stirring as a sign of you waking up but he was wrong. you were moving because you liked it - he watched as your mouth parted softly, a soft whimper filling the air as you continued to squirm beneath him

it didn’t take long before he slipped your panties off, throwing them to some corner of the room - careful not to wake you. he watched as you writhed at the feel of the cool air breezing against your bare pussy, fingers having a mind of their own as they pushed into you. god you were so tight, he could feel the ache in his pants as he continued to thrust his finger into you. he couldn’t help but watch your eyebrows raise, mouth opening to let out an inaudible moan “m’sorry so so sorry” he heaved out, before adding another finger, watching you hiss at the intrusion.

you were making a mess on his hand and between your legs with each thrust of his and all he could think was how good you were taking it, wondering what noises you’d be making if you were awake - would you grab at his wrist and make him slow down if he went too fast? would you reach down and rub your aching clit?would you whine at him to stop?

he felt a sudden urge, he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to feel your lips against his as he curled his fingers that were wedged deep inside you. he moved even closer, dipping his head down, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips as he thrust his fingers harshly in you making you all putty in his arms

it was rough the way he pulled out, fingers resting against your thighs but he was desperate, his cock had been painfully poking against the fabric of his shorts waiting for some sort of stimulation. it was bad, it was so so bad but what was worse was that he stopped caring,it was a need to feel your gummy walls sucking you in, to watch your face contort into a mixture of pain and pleasure as he slams into you

you’d understand right? i mean you had to with the way you’d tortured him for so long, how you’d walk around wearing next to nothing or how you’d rub up against him. he remembers wanting nothing more than to bend you over the nearest surface and dick you down like the good little whore you were but how could he, you weren’t a whore - far from it actually, you were his sweet little angel that he wanted to corrupt, the little lamb that the big bad wolf wanted to bite into

he spent every minute trying to savour this moment, slowly pulling of his boxers throwing them next to your panties - making a mental note to take them later. he wished he could’ve been gentle and soft and sweet but he didn’t have it in him that night, he wanted you to feel the ache he’s been feeling.

the whine that left your mouth was loud as the blonde slammed into you, stilling with his movement - soaking in the feel of your velvety walls wrapped around him that left him wanting to paint your insides with his cum.shocked at your still state, deep sleeper he thought- who knows maybe he can have more fun

for a minute he stayed stilled feeling every pulse or clench of your little pussy, he was disgusting! but he didn’t care, what he cared about was how your face would look like when you cum? how you’d look like when you wake and see the pool of white between your legs? that was enough for him to begin drilling his cock into you, the once silent room being filled with his low groans and the sound of skin slapping

“so good f’me… huh?” he breathed out “wanna cum so-fuck so-deep inside you….fill you with all my babies” his pace didn’t falter as you’d tossed against him, body shocked by the harsh and sudden intrusion. his right hand travelled down from the side of your hips to your bright red clit, pinching it softly causing your brows to furrow

“sorry baby…. just needed to do that” he laughed out, head falling down to the dip in your neck, breathing against the skin “fuck-” the blonde could feel his high coming close, he fastens his face getting ready to empty himself inside of you “fuck fuck fuck m’coming” the blonde curses, eyes screwed tightly as he spurts out a fat load inside you, moaning with every slight movement. he watched as you spasmed around him, your own high being provoked by his - he couldn’t miss the way your back slightly arched, he’d bet you were in heaven right now - well atleast he was

following a few sloppy thrusts, he flops against your sleeping body, looking up to see your face, god you looked so innocent! you hadn’t even known the way he’d violated you yet and something in him ached for you to find out, for you to wake up to the feel of his morning wood, throbbing inside of you and feel the sticky pool of cum that formed beneath you. and he couldn’t help but thrust deeper inside of you, chin resting against your head - slowly feeling his eyes close, he’ll deal with the aftermath in the morning but for now he wanted to sleep wedged inside you, sweaty bodies pressed together

[thehauntedetheral]

hi, how are you doing? If is not a bother can you make a yandere ex fuckboy x insecure reader, she is insecure of his past and the girls he used to stay with before they start dating and is terrified of him cheating on her, that bothers the yandere a lot and he goes to the extreme to prove to her that he doesn't want anyone else.

Hello I am doing well and hope you are doing well too. I hope you like this work.

Yandere Ex Fuckboy X Insecure Reader

Requests are open!

��� You were always on edge thinking that your boyfriend is with some other girl cheating on you when he is not with you.

• You love your boyfriend a lot. And he has been an amazing boyfriend to you all the time being caring, protective, sweet, understanding towards you. But his past. His past always haunts you and makes you feel insecure.

• In the past before you two got into the relationship yan was the Fuckboy of your college. Girls always surrounding him and being attracted to him like a moth to a flame as he was tall, good looking, rich and extremely good in bed with his smooth as butter flirting skills and charming personality.

• Some even say that he slept with more than half of the girls in campus.

• But after meeting you this man gets changed for forever. He has never felt something so strong like this for anyone ever.

• He tries his best to court you. Begging to you on his knees to make him your boyfriend. This man becomes a simp when it comes to you.

• But you ignored him knowing his infamous Fuckboy image.

• To get your attention he follows you around like a lost puppy, Spoiling you with flowers, meals, coffee anything you want just please let him be your boyfriend and let him love you.

• Frustrated by his constant chaos you finally give him a chance and say yes.

• He tries his best to be the best boyfriend for you not wanting to disappoint you on the chance you have given him. And true to his words he is a really good boyfriend to you.

• You don't know that this is the first relationship yan ever had. Yes he slept around a lot but never dated anyone. You are the first.

• When he gets to know his love, his darling is feeling insecure due to his past he does all the possible ways to show you that he belongs only to you and no one.

• Wearing tshirts which have things like this written all over it " My girlfriend is hotter than you" or "I love my girlfriend" while walking around the campus showing everyone. If his tshirt doesn't have this written on it then it definitely will be a photo of you printed all over his tshirt.

• Wears the handmade bracelet you made for him 24/7 not taking it off ever.

• Always wears your hair ties on his wrist in case you need it and to show people he is already taken by his beautiful girlfriend.

• Is one of the best player of the college's football team and whenever he earns a goal during the matches he dedicates his goals to you pointing at you and screaming "I love you y/n" infront of the whole crowd.

• By the way he changes his jersey number to your birthday date number showing his jersey back to everyone.

• When a girl from his past approaches him he straight up says "I have a beautiful girlfriend whom I love to death so please leave"

• This man is so in love, committed and loyal to you that it's sickly disgusting for others to watch.

• Everyone thinks you have done some kind of witchcraft on him because he has suddenly became the most loving boyfriend for you from the college's Fuckboy.

• This man would do anything for you to never be insecure again that he would even say this "We can get engaged or even better married if it puts your mind to an ease y/n."

Meanwhile reader : "........"

• This man would kill himself before even thinking about cheating on you and hurting you. The thought of some another girl other than you now makes him nauseous let alone even think about touching them.

• Yan is utterly whipped and in love with you. He would even bring the fucking world infront of your knees if you want.

Let me know what you think about this fic.

Requests are open !

For more yandere reading

[ninjasmudge]

i regret to inform you all that my crack au became a real au so heres sin lamb. they performed a sin ritual that turned out to be way more powerful than they were used to after ascending to godhood. realising that much sin would kill any of the regular followers, they gave it to themself and then they just.... never absolved themself of it.

the crown calls it 'falling to temptation' and they started off using the sin like a wrath berserker mode in battle, and then it was just a way for them to cut loose. theyre still in their right mind, theyre just much more impulsive and if they want something, they get it. god deserves whatever they want after all.

narinder is... extremely intrigued by sin lamb.

semi related heres sin narinder, something that can only happen during sin rituals (thats not blood hes just patterned like that)

[tinlizziedlinwa]

protect me from myself

So many of the things I think

tied to the pains of my past

Parts of me have never grown up

so many little bits

still shattered, as you see

I can't reach out for help

I don't want to drag you down with me

so I weep deep inside

silently

[amandabbbbb]

summary: maybank!reader who’s a coke addict and lies to rafe about her addiction until he finds out and gets soo mad

tw: drug abuse, cocaine, rafe hits barry, rafes mean to reader

word count: 409

“baby, no, i’m not letting you fucking leave again,” rafe yelled as you yanked yourself out of his tight grip and ran out the door of tannyhill.

“i’ll be back later tonight. you can trust me. i just gotta pick up for my dad.”

you never wanted to lie to rafe or be involved in drugs, but having a father who was addicted to them didn’t help. you started picking up drugs for your father luke when you were 14, but now at 19 your addiction had spiraled into something darker, something you couldn’t control.

pedaling your bike to the other side of the island, you finally arrived at barry’s, your dealer. he always gave you the best drugs and didn’t charge you much in exchange for letting him flirt with you. “that has to be the best coke you’ve ever got, barry. shit,” you exclaimed as you finished the line of coke that he lined up for you. “you know me, sweetheart. i’d never give you bad drugs, would i, beautiful?”

as the drug rushed through your body, you thought to yourself that your boyfriend rafe would never even touch drugs. he was always just trying to please his dad. he would break up with you if he ever found out about your addiction. rafe just thought of you as the prettiest pogue, so innocent, timid, and shy. he always wanted to protect you.

a couple of hours after you left tannyhill, rafe walked in as you took that line with barry, picking up coke for himself and his friends to do at the kook party tonight. he would never let you see him do drugs; he played this character needing you to look up to him and never see him as a bad guy. but when he saw you throw your head back, wiping the white powder off your nose and hearing barry call you beautiful, he filled with rage.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing?” rafe yelled. you stood up as fast as you could, his voice ringing in your ears. “get in the fuckin car.”

he slammed the car door and drove off at a speed you never felt his truck go before. you were shaking as you noticed blood splattered on his knuckles.

rafe’s lip curled into a sneer, his disbelief evident in the way he looked at you. “you’re pathetic,” he spat out, his words like a knife to your heart. “you’re just like him, aren’t you? your father. a worthless junkie.”

tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to process his words, the pain of his words cutting deeper than you thought possible.

“i gave you everything, y/n. i gave you a better life, and this is how you repay me? by throwing it all away for some fuckin drugs?” rafe screamed, his voice cracking.

“i-i’m so sorry rafe, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “i never wanted to hurt you. i just… i don’t know how to stop.”

your words made him feel guilty. as he looked at your glistening eyes and shaking hands, all he could say was, “just stop. stop doing the drugs, baby,” rafe whispered. he saw his own reflection in your tear-streaked face and realized he didn’t know how to help you, given his own struggles with drugs. all he could mutter out was, “i’m sorry.”