#cw: misogynistic language

[rocxyoulikeahurricane]

Flirting with death @gemscales-and-tea

continued from ask

Tw: Suicidal talk/inclination

The porn and rock star yawned in his dressing room chair. How had the other even gotten in? There was a time when he would have been terrified of the figure before him,but,that was before he'd gotten cursed. He didn't even know why he'd tried the empty shotgun threat.

"I've had bigger things down my throat at this point". he winked "All jokes aside you can't kill me, see that ROOT bitch put me under a contract in Eden.". As if cued up a black chain appeared around the others neck. "Can't end my life...no matter how much I want too, I've tried, in hell you basically respawn, on earth, I did the same". He reached into his pocket pulling out a cigarette and lighter.

[slimejellomold]

[bi-writes]

Simon would never argue with MOB, that’s a given. And defending her honor??? Maybe it’s leaked that Mrs. Riley is in fact a Mail Order Bride for who knows where doing who knows what and let’s just say someone spreads that rumor around base and it gets back to one Lieutenant👀👀

mail-order bride

cw: graphic depictions of violence, a little smidge of dark!simon, misogynistic language (18+)

"here to see your husband, mrs. riley?"

you smile, shuffling in the chair. the woman who greets you is always here with a happy disposition, even when she's drowning in paperwork and the telephone on her desk won't stop ringing. she looks a little stressed today, but she gives you a smile anyways.

"yeah," you smooth your hands down your jeans, looking around. "told me his day would be slow, so i thought i'd bring him--"

you're interrupted by the sound of intense laughter and loud voices. the front doors open, banging against the wall practically, and a group of soldiers move past you. you fiddle with your purse, smoothing your thumb over the leather, but when you hear the subtle laughter and whispers still around you, you look up.

you make eye contact with several privates. they're whispering in each other's ears, but once they notice you're staring, they laugh a little more and make continue into the building. some of them look over their shoulder at you, and you look down to see if something is wrong with your outfit. when you check to make sure no tags are sticking out and that you haven't worn two different shoes, you just try to shrug it off, tucking your hair behind your ears and tapping your foot anxiously against the linoleum floor.

"okay, he's ready to see you. you know where it is by now, right?"

you blink, nodding, and then you swing your purse over your shoulder to walk over.

there's a game playing in the rec room. they've got banners up for their teams hung on the walls and streamers in different colors, and there's lots of men cheering and whooping in the room. just as you pass by the door, you squeak as you bump right into two laughing men, stumbling a little as they try to right themselves.

"fuck, sorry--" one of them chuckles. you frown a little but try to smile, moving to shimmy past them.

"is that her?"

"who?"

"didn't ya hear? lieutenant bought her off some sort of fucked-up catalog. heard she's real expensive."

you whip around, your lip trembling, and your shoes squeak against the floor as you stare right at them. one of them is smiling from ear-to-ear, and the other is laughing to himself.

"where did you hear that?" you ask.

"everybody knows, love," he winks. "so how much is it for a night? maybe we can do a group rate."

"e-excuse me?" you whisper, and he leans his arm against the wall, trapping you there.

"we heard all about the...program. thought maybe if we asked real nice, maybe we'd even get a discount."

"i don't know what you're talking about," you spit at him. "whatever you think this is, you're wrong. now get out of my way--"

"how much? how much did he fucking pay?"

"oh, mate--mate, you have to stop--" his friend tries to warn him, smacking him on the shoulder, but he glares down at you still, in your face, accusatory.

his face goes from smug to absolutely terrified when he's grabbed from behind. the hand that cages you against the wall is gripped by a gloved hand, twisted at an unnatural angle, and you flinch a little at the sound of his wail when his arm follows it's motion and a sickening pop echoes in the hallway.

his screams are suddenly drowned out by the cheering from the football game. someone scored maybe, but the man underneath simon screams, too, terrified as your husband mounts him like a fucking horse and slams his face against the floor.

it's like watching an artist. he paints his surroundings in flecks of red, the occasional clatter of a tooth falling at their feet, and you tilt your head to the side as you watch simon fist that man's hair and makes him eat whatever that floor is made of. he's in agony--that much is clear, from the way he shakes to the terrified look in his eyes, the pleading he sends your way as he asks for mercy.

when simon lets him go, he collapses onto the ground in a fit of bloody coughs and groans. his arm hangs from his shoulder limply (surely it's been pulled out of its socket), and his face is unrecognizable. you think his eyes were blue, but you can't tell anymore. they're red now, pupils blown wide, and he keeps moaning between broken teeth, "didn't mean it...i'm sorry...i'm sorry..."

simon kneels, leaning over him, and he grips the front of his uniform and pulls him up to sit, making him cry out from the pain. he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and he drops his voice low.

"dunno where ya heard all tha' shit," simon mutters. "ain't true."

"n-no, sir--"

"i didn't say you could fuckin' talk," simon continues. "and if ya do again, i'll make sure ya can't." when he says nothing, simon tsks. "maybe ya wish ya could even afford my wife, mate. but ya can't." he tugs him a little closer. "'m gonna make ya an example. 'm not done with you. you are going to eat a fuckin' bullet from me, mate, but it won't be today. it'll be someday." simon presses his masked mouth to his ear. "but if i hear anyone else repeat wot you said 'ere today, i'll do it sooner. and you should know better than t'run...because i will find ya. wherever ya go." simon jostles him, and you swallow as he cries, trying to pull away, "now say thank you t'my wife. say thank you, because if she wasn't 'ere, i'd put my fuckin' boot in yer mouth--say it!"

"thank you! thank you!"

you simply blink as simon lets him go finally, standing, and as he walks past you, he grabs your hand roughly in his and starts to walk. you look over your shoulder as he tugs you along, and when you look back, you intertwine your fingers with his.

when the door closes behind him, simon slumps in his chair. he grips his mask from the back of the neck and pulls it off, burying his face in his hands. you set your bag down and kneel in front of him, putting your hands over his.

"simon--"

"wot the fuck is wrong with me?"

"simon--"

"i-in...i...i fuckin' lost it--"

you pull his hands off his face gently, cupping his cheeks. the eye-black smears a little around his eyes. there are no tears, but his eyes are watery as he stares into yours. his hands are shaking, and he palms his thighs to keep them steady.

"it's okay, simon," you whisper.

"i didn't want you to see me tha' way," he shakes his head. "violent. aggressive. fuck, i must've terrified you--"

"i'm not scared," you say softly. you smooth your thumbs under his eyes. "no one...no one's ever done anything like that for me before." you meet his eyes, and he leans a little more into your hands, bending low to get closer to you. "maybe he deserved it."

"i would...i would never--"

"shhh," you quiet him gently, shaking your head. "i know. i'm not scared of you."

you lean up, putting your hands on his knees and getting up just enough to get into his lap. you close your eyes as you kiss him softly, hugging him close, soothing him with a soft hand on the back of his head.

"you didn't do anything wrong, simon..."

"it's okay, baby..."

"i love you."

you know it isn't true. you're lying, somewhat, but it doesn't feel like a lie because it feels good. sick of being smaller, sick of being stepped on, sick of letting other people not be held accountable for the things that they do.

just this once maybe, you can let someone bleed. for misunderstanding you. for judging you. for not realizing there is a thing attached to you that bites and tears apart.

the world is a terrible place. and maybe you are simply just owed.

[bunny-jpeg]

make amends (lando's version)

lando norris & max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, max gf!reader, sharing, forgiveness, missionary, sex w lando, protected sex (thank god!), rivalry, dirty talk/degradation, humiliation, language that can be seen a misogynistic, mean!max & lando, hair pulling

max version

bunny says: i know everything has been forgiven, but ya know... ya knoooow

max realized he had done something wrong, being presented with the evidence of the collision at the austrian grand prix had him a little second-guessing himself.

"shit." he muttered to himself. he knew that he was going to have to make it up to lando. most would just talk it out in private or even in front of the cameras. but max knew that he royally fucked up.

and it would take a fair bit for the other driver to be willing to make amends. but he knew the way that lando looked at you, how you'd often wave and him and his eyes would go wide before he dumbly waved back.

max knew exactly what would patch up their relationship. he told you over dinner before he ate you out in the bathroom. your dress pushed up and his nose against your clit. you whimpered that you would do it for him, anything to help his career!

"a night. have her, all to yourself. and all is forgiven." max said to the other driver as they were standing near a wall before they had to start practice.

lando looked at him, "have her? like, fuck her."

max's jaw tensed, "i don't want to hear anything about it afterwards. you get one fuck and that's it." he showed his finger indicating how many times lando could fuck you.

"i thought i was getting one night?" lando looked at him curiously, "how long do you think it takes me to get off?" he laughed, "but i accept your offer. name a time and place." then nudged his fellow drive in the arm.

the hotel you were staying at with max in silverstone was beautiful. then again all the places that you stayed with him were beautiful. you could tell that max was tense.

"it'll be fine, max." you said as you adjusted the lacy bra that was picked out for the evening. a harsh yellow and red, like the redbull colours. max's last ditch effort to establish some kind of dominance. you were just thankful you looked nice in it.

his eyes raked your body, "i don't want him to get the wrong idea, but it was all i could think of." his eyes met yours, "he probably doesn't even know how to fuck well."

you went over to him and took his face in your hands, "you're acting like this has never happened before. i'm pretty sure many girlfriends and wives have had to help in making sure her partner didn't have a target on his back!"

he took you by the waist and pressed his scratchy cheek against your middle. he sighed, "if he does anything."

"then." you replied as you carded your fingers through his brown hair, "he won't know what hit him."

when lando came, you greeted him at the door. you were standing there in the skimpy lingerie. the other drive chuckled, "possessive much, eh, max?"

max looked over, he was seated on the couch. he looked at him and narrowed his eyes. his attention was brought to your ass as you went in and pulled him in for a tight hug.

lando hugged you back before you took him by the hand and brought him inside. lando kicked his sneakers off and dumbly followed you through the lavish hotel room. you got into the bedroom and sat down with a smile. lando could feel max close behind before he went over and sat on the edge of the bed. lando asked, "why are you still here?"

max made a face with his bottom lip stuck out and shrugged, "have to make sure you don't try anything stupid."

lando chuckled, "right, right. not worried that you're little minx of a girlfriend is not gonna try anythin' herself?"

you looked at lando and pulled his face towards you, "will all be forgiven after tonight?"

lando laughed, "depends how good you fuck me." then ran his tongue across the top row of his teeth like a predator. he fell into the massive bed with you and felt you start to unbutton his shirt.

lando's hands wandered your exposed skin and his lips found yours. he helped you got his clothes off, especially his belt which almost hit max when lando got it off. once he was naked, he looked over at max as he undid the bra and exposed your breasts to him.

"pretty girl." he chuckled, "don't ya think, mad max?" then grinned at the other man.

max replied, "yeah, i know. i get it every night." he tried to keep a cool head which lando peeled your soaked panties off of you.

lando spoke like you weren't under him, naked and ready to be fucked. he said to max, "ya know, i think you should whore her out more often."

max frowned as he reached over and brushed your face with his knuckle, "i like to keep what is mine." you could feel the energy between the two of them. they were rivals and one was fucking the other's girlfriend.

lando chuckled, "i bet charles would love to have a spin with her." he spoke about you like you were one of the cars on the track. like you should have mclaren or redbull tattooed on your ass.

regardless it made you squirm as you felt lando's cock press against your stomach, he was painfully hard and leaky against your belly button. he was decently sized but not so much that it was intimidating.

max looked up at the fellow driver and said, "let her on top and she goes fast. don't you, mijn liefje?" then looked down at you. he could tell you were getting hot and heavy from it all.

lando started to grope your breasts as he made out with you once more. his cock was squished between your bodies and he was starting to feel hot all over.

max threw the shiny packaging of a condom at lando's head and said, "wear it."

lando picked it up from the bed and looked at max, "aw, where's your fun there, mad max?"

max replied, "i'm not raising your fucking bastard." he could feel a little hot under the collar as he watched you underneath the other driver.

lando admired your nude body as he sat up right, straddling your waist as he put the condom on. he made a noise and said, "i should've said it didn't fit." he looked at max out of the corner of his eye.

max replied, "why, they're too big?"

lando shot daggers at the other man before he bent you in half. your knees to your chest and your glistening pussy exposed to him. he licked his lips before he said, "i'll fit in here just fine though, i wonder if you could ever stretch her out. or am i the biggest she's ever had?"

he made a face when you pulled him back by the hair for him to focus on you. he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

"do you want to fuck me or max?" you replied, you could feel the anticipation creep up into your throat.

lando smiled at you and pressed the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. he held you by the thighs and pressed into you, "i'd rather fuck you, love. plus you got the pretty pussy." he went in for another rough kiss as he bottomed out into you.

you felt the air leave your lungs from the feeling of his cock spearing your pussy open. you dug your manicured nails into his shoulders as he got all the way to the root.

"holy shit." lando grumbled, he looked over to max as he loomed over you, "ya fuck her good, huh? what else does this little slut like?" his grin was wicked.

max held you by your hair and looked in your eyes, then to lando. he replied, "she likes when you're rough. she likes to be used, ask nicely and she might lick the cum out of your uniform."

you blushed and looked away, but max gripped your hair and make you look at him.

"tell him, mijn liefje."

you whined when you replied, "i sucked him off with his uniform still on!" then whimpered when he yanked on your hair more, "and then i licked the cum out of it when i made a mess!"

lando looked at max and said, "where the fuck did you find her?"

max went back to stroking your hair and replied, "they don't 'em like her anymore.' he smiled, feeling a bit smug by how impressed lando was with you, "there's no money in the world that could buy a girl like this."

lando gripped onto your hips as he rocked into you. your pussy was nice around his cock, "well, she is a fine piece of ass. a nice little whore to bury your cock in."

max replied, he laid out beside you. he felt hot in the jeans and t-shirt he wore. he also felt out of place. he looked at you, your naked body under the other man. "wouldn't have kept her as long if she wasn't good at fucking. i don't have the patience to train someone."

"oh, so she was already broken in?"

max shook his head as he reached for you breasts and palmed one of them, "oh no. she was brand new when i got my hands on her. never even sucked cock before." the language they were using made you feel like a toy that had been used over and over again. but it also made the heat rise to your ears.

you felt squished under lando and your heart was in your throat. max rarely spoke about you like that, in such terms. but behind closed doors, well you were just the verstappan's sex toy who he got to parade around the paddock.

make the likes of lando jealous.

"trained her huh, you should take a second career in girl training." lando chuckled before he looked back at you. he cupped your face and moved your head from side to side, "world needs more good little sluts like you."

your pussy clenched around lando's cock and he loved the feeling of that. you whimpered as he started to pick up the pace. the sounds of sex and your heavy breathing filled the air.

you matched lando's pace as he cock bullied your insides. your panted and moaned, you clawed at his back, making a mess of it! your heart hammered in your chest as you laid under him.

max's hand was in your hair as the man watched you being fucked. he hoped that lando kept his end of the bargain, or else he was going to make sure that smug fucker wasn't getting podium in silverstone. he didn't give away his girl's cunt for nothing.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "fuck yeah."

he managed to pull, one, two and eventually three orgasms out of you. you were a mess under him. each orgasm hit like a train and turned you brain off. you panted and whined like an animal as he just kept going.

sweat covered your body and you face felt hot. your cunt squeezed his cock as if it never wanted to let it go. the entire scene was hot. if only the press got their hands on this story, then everyone would know that you were a filthy whore.

with a few more hard thrusts of his hips, lando gripped onto your hips and shoved his entire length into your cunt. he came in the condom with your wet cunt around it. part of him wish he could've bare-backed you.

"fuckin' hell!" he croaked. his legs felt like jelly as his pace staggered then slowed. he could feel the pinpricks of heat at the nape of his neck. the rush made his head throb.

"lando." you whimpered.

lando looked down at you and licked the sweat off your cheek, "good girl." he got off of you and went to get rid of the condom. he was panting like an animal as he staggered over to the waste bin to toss it out. he leaned against the wall for a moment, the energy taken out of him.

"holy shit." he said.

max had you in his arms. still in his clothes. you had taken to rubbing your achy cunt all over the expensive calvin kleins. you left a sticky wet spot on the thigh.

"you liked that didn't you?" he asked. you whined in response.

"hey verstappen." lando said as he came back to bed, "give me another condom, you said all night."

max looked at you then him as lando crawled behind you. he leaned over to the nightstand behind him and pulled out the box.

"value pack? are you that cheap, verstappen?"

"no. because when you eventually get tired with her. i'm going next."

[sugawarassoulmate]

i love evil women idk

words: 285

cw: fem!reader, sub!oikawa, dubious consent, jealousy, toxic relationship, restraints, orgasm denial, misogynistic language, minors dni

"you're a fucking demon," he grunts, trying to fight against the restraints.

"it's your fault," you bite back, dropping your hips once more just to hear him squirm.

you were never the jealous type until you started dating oikawa. his fidelity was never a question but it was just the thought of some bitch thinking she even had the chance to get with him.

and of course, the charming bastard adored the attention but he mostly enjoyed how it possessive it made you.

"god, you really know how to piss me off, tooru," your hands were planted on his chest. knees bent as you fucked yourself on his cock.

oikawa, exhausted from a late practice, didn't notice when you cuffed his wrists and ankles to the bed frame and while he doesn't object to you being dominant, he was far too sensitive right now.

"these bitches just wanna say they fucked a celebrity, they don't care about you," oikawa groans when he feels your breath against the shell of his ear.

"i don't want them, princess. just you," he whines, wishing he could reach out to grab you. the pace you were going at nearly had him at his limit. he needed to cum right now.

but it wasn't about him.

"oh you wanna cum? ohhhh tooru wants to cum, yeah?" you tease, voice shrill as your hips start to slow, grinding on oikawa's aching cock.

"no, baby, please don't stop. i'm sorry," he begs. "just let me cum in you, it'll feel so good."

but instead of giving in, you push off of him, ignoring how he cries when he doesn't feel the warmth of your cunt anymore.

"not until i'm done with you."

©sugawarassoulmate 2024 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[boatdriinks]

"Definitely not." Being a piece of shit for most of his life didn't help that a ton. Lovin' his kids, but each fuckin' time now, there's been periods of times where he wasn't even legally allowed to see them. He wondered how much of that was planted deep inside V's head 'cause of Johnny's own memories. It almost made him anxious. He was a real peace of shit, not being able to talk about her.

"... Long story. Doubt a kid like you's too interested in hearin' 'bout my kids," Kerry snickered slightly, still cushioning his genuine feelings with anxious "humor." Guess Johnny did call him a pussy for a reason.

Letting out a sigh, he'd bite his tongue and continue to focus on the tune he was casually playing. It'd been so damn long. You would'a thought he'd be able to talk about all of that shit by now. But, no. With the guilt that still seeped through each and every one of his pores, it felt just heavy as it had back then. Christ, he kinda wished he was still going on about his loneliness in this big ass house.

V shrugged and said casually, "Mighta had a stim or two earlier to push me through the last gig. Takes a while to leave my system." Plus she'd been drinking and her lips got a little loose in good company. She didn't get to kick back often—considering she was dying and all. Any relic malfunction could be her last. She stared at Kerry for several seconds like she was looking beyond, seeing past the many layers of veneer. Past the rockerboy persona; stripped down to the bone. Johnny saw the potential, the drive, in him... V could remember those flashbacks vividly. Felt what Johnny felt, saw through his eyes. He never wanted Kerry to live in his shadow.

Then familiar blue static danced across her optics. A trilling but momentary buzz in her skull, a digitized phantom materializing on the couch not too far from Kerry. He said nothing and neither did she. Just lit up a cig and took a long drag from it. She reached for her whiskey. They listened to Kerry play a little longer before Johnny finally murmured, "Mmn, I say good for him. Never wanted any kids of my own." V blinked then drank until the lowball was empty. "Came close though, a couple of weeks before you and Rogue split that last time," she pointed out, her tone soft. Commiserating, even.

Another puff of non-existent smoke billowed out then dissipated before he removed his shades to look at V, the dark circles on full display. "Doubt she wanted to have a kid with me. Just baggage, memories of a time gone by. An' she could hardly stand my guts so I told her to make the choice she thought was right." V internally winced at the memory she got a good glimpse into some time ago. Johnny had straight up been an asshole during that conversation—nay, shouting match—with Rogue. "You cared though, deep down underneath it all." V left him with that to chew on before her focus returned to Kerry once more. "Can't say I can relate to being a parent, but... I'm sure it isn't easy," she said, offering him a little smile.

V didn't probe further. Some things were hard to talk about. Sometimes words just didn't come out right and all you could do was let silence fill in those empty spaces.

[madwomansapologist]

one look and you knew | shan yu x fem!reader

for shan yu, you are his destiny. for you, he is the man that kidnapped you. love at first sight is a tale as old as time. he just didn't expect you wouldn't believe in it.

cw: love at first sight. meet cute. public nudity. accidental voyeurism. murder couple in the making. yandere. kidnapping. shan "i'll make you my empress" yu x fem!reader "what's your name?". in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

an: rip moon you would've loved hearing nu metal while doing the dishes. also my favorite dinamic is war criminal x someone that would have the time of their live being a nun.

The wind howled against his ears. Trees spoke in their ancient language. Silently, the world continue to move. Harmonic in its apparent chaos, carefully built even in its broken pieces, the world continued to be.

It was quiet there. Not maddening as the silence of soldiers well aware of their wrongdoings. Not numb as the moment right before a battle. Not debilitating as his sleepless, lonely midnights.

It was quiet there in the mountains, but not still. The world wasn't holding its breath, muscles clenching in tension or fear. It was what it has always been: uncaring, an indiferent witness to mankind.

Man can die, man can kill. The wind will keep on howling either way.

Marching forward in the monster's belly, he thought. A battle against time. An unstoppable war against the inevitable end.

Stupidly feverish, Shan Yu then admitted to himself. He ignored as his body plead for rest, instead riding his horse away from comfort. Shan Yu is the one to blame for his boiling mind and those irrational, melancolic thoughts.

Following an old path hidden by trees, Shan Yu travelled deeper into the mountains. The cut on his forearm throbbed. It would need new bandages, he could feel the blood drying against his sore skin.

Still, Shan Yu chose the ruthlessness of the mountain and whispers of a tired mind rather than the bought hospitality of an warm inn. More so, he chose silence over chaos.

He needed to think. To plan.

His armies invaded China. Battle after battle, they were always victorious. Now they understand this place. His generals trained soldiers with new formations that fit this land better. But real victory isn't as near as Shan Yu would want to.

His army is at disadvantage. They are in the enemy's territory. They are the ones moving forward instead of defending what they already own. They are the ones making arrangements with villages because a war this long means more food, more water, more time.

Shan Yu left his army behind, allowing them to celebrate. It was a good deal with the village's leader, whom only desire was to keep his people safe. He need his man confident, excited with the prospects of war. Let the alcohol soothe their minds, they earned it.

Alone, facing the place he must conquer, Shan Yu could deal with the stratagems. Challenged, he must find a way to humiliate the Emperor. To make even his own people turn their backs on him.

A sneeze made the strategist give place to the warrior.

The horse stopped with the pressure of his feet. Still as stone, Shan Yu searched for the source of it. He wasn't being followed. That he knows. This can't be a trap. At least not a good one.

He jumped to the ground, hand already searching for his jagged jian. He stopped at the handle, not wanting the steel to reflect light and warn his enemy. It was time to hunt.

Following his instincts, he wandered between the trees. His feet were light on the ground. This threat won't be able to gasp before he attacks.

He found a river bank surrounded by stones. No signs of an ambush. He couldn't smell anything strange in the air, only the... No. Shan Yu stopped moving. He felt something sweet. A strong perfume in the air.

Shan Yu glared at the river, now unsure of what he was looking for. Maybe it wasn't a trap. After all, that's not an important village. No soldiers or officers live here. Maybe this old hidden path isn't as old or as hidden as he thought. Maybe he's hunting something that simply isn't aware of him.

Then he noticed. Clothes folded in the river bank, a towel spread on a stonr, a basket half-filled with shells and stones.

Deep into the river, your fingers brushed against a shell. You grabbed it, and checked if anything lived inside of it yet. It was a few inches bigger than your hand, and in a beautiful shade of green.

A cold breeze welcomed you to the surface. You took a deep breath, shaking your head and getting the water away from your eyes. Your face felt like it was burning, but you know the cold was causing it.

You cleaned the shell, brushing your fingers against the mud stucked inside it. It really was a beautiful shade of green. Brighter than you could see underwater.

Absolutely perfect for your collection. All other green shells you've ever found had crustaceans living inside of them, and you would never leave them without a home. This one will make it all even more special.

You laughed to youself, observing all its details. You continued to explore the surface, crossing the river a few more times. You knew it like the palm of your hand. Maybe even better than your own bedroom.

You can be bored, overwhelmed, exhausted: this place solves it easily. Its silence involves your brain, and its water washes over the very fabric of your soul. You can feel it. The knots coming lose, the tissue shining, each thread becoming softer.

Shan Yu released the handle of his jian when you emerged, froze in place as his eyes followed your every movement. As if cursed, his body wasn't his to control anymore. Immovable muscles, unstoppable heart. His worries were shut down, any hardship simply erased from his usually sharp memory.

Moonlight blinded him for an instant. No, it was you. Your light was that bright. Was he seeing your soul? Brighter than the moon, as enebriating as barley, more soothing than popy.

Your light casts no shadow.

Were you a witch? A sorceress dominating his body and mind, sinking Shan Yu into a trance he would never want to get out of. Or were you a siren? Luring him into the water, waiting for the perfect chance to bite his heart out of his chest.

He can't believe you're any of those. None could be half as beautiful as you. A nymph. Only that could explain your beauty.

He admire you. The old scar on your knees, stretch marks on your waist, freckles on your back. The way your eyes shone as you collected your shells, how your body moved as if the water wasn't an obstacle but a path made for you to follow.

It was so cold, but that didn't stopped you from doing what you wanted. It takes a certain hunger to do something you desire despite the world around you. For now, deep into the mountains, you were free.

Your laugh made him forget about everything. That sound was deserving of a thousand praises. People should dedicate their lifes for the chance of witnessing you blossoming.

A small price for such a great gift.

But you sneezed, and that woke up Shan Yu from his trance. He was reminded of where he was and who he is. Of how cold it was. Shan Yu looked at your clothes again. Such a light tissue would never fully protect you. Unlike his fur.

Unlike him.

With a storm for a heart, Shan Yu approached. Glaring at your back, he purposely stepped on a branch.

Part of you hoped to be surprised by an animal, but you knew someone was standing behind you. You couldn't see who was there, but you knew someone not looking for trouble wouldn't be there.

It's fair ground then.

"If you want to approach me, do it", you whispered. You didn't need to be any louder to be heard. Your fingers clenched around the shell you were studying, aware the only thing stopping it from being a weapon was your intent. "But I am not fazed by blood."

A chuckled was heard. A man, of course it was. What surprised you was to hear him walking away.

You turned around, but all you saw was the stranger's back as he dissapeared among the trees. Folded over your clothes, you found a wolf fur coat. You hesitate before brushing your wet fingers against it. It was so warm and soft.

Warm, soft and real.

You were quick to get out of the river, drying yourself with a towel. You put on your clothes, took the basket and ran towards the old path you made sure to hide with stones. Apparently not everyone was deceived by it.

A scream came out of your throat as you bumped into someone. Your basket fell on the ground as a familiar hand squeezed your shoulder.

"Mom", you whispered. You blinked, trying to stop yourself from feeling... whatever it was that you were feeling. You gave her your brightest smile, kneeling down to grab all your things. "I know it's late, I was already heading back home."

That earned you a hiss. You did your best to hold the smile. "You're trembling", she said. "I've warned you. You'll get sick."

"I won't", you said. "I promise."

She bit back a smile. So calm, so full of certain. Making promises you can't possibly keep, and somehow keeping them anyway.

"You better", she took the basket from your hand, looking at your new findings. "Your father already has enough patients as it is."

Going back home was always the worst part, but even there you could feel the cage closing around you. One thing is to be alone at the river, other to be lonely at your home. There nothing can distract you from thinking until your mind is far away from this village.

Instead of walking forward, you glanced back.

Part of you knew he would be there. Like a ghost at the corner of your eyes. It still chocked you to see his sillhouet there, a blurr in the darkness, right where you left the coat.

Now, you were the one observing him. Trying to understand him. Had he stayed there, hidden somewhere to observe you after his gift? Or did he heard your scream, and only then decided to come back?

You forced yourself to move away. Your mother could never see him. It would be the end of your free evenings if she ever discovered you were naked, futhermore if she even dreamed a man was near.

Unaware of your curious gaze, Shan Yu brushed the mark of your wet fingers on his coat. It got your attention, earned your touch, gained the sweet perfume of your skin. It was a gift, and one you so politely declined.

As if a saint would ever accept anything coming from a conqueror. "Now that is a challenge."

Back at the inn, Shan Yu was a new man. Maybe it was your laugh. Perhaps your freedom. Now, Shan Yu wasn't worrying anymore.

He already knew what to do.

⋆✦⋆

A scream woke you up.

You pulled the blanket away from your sweaty body, hands trembling as you moved. Surrounded by darkness, your heart beating so loud you could feel it twitching on your ears, you sat on the bed and faced the darkness surrounding you.

A nightmare. Squeezing the fabric of your nightgown, you tried to force yourself to calm down. Don't allow it to consume you, you thought. Be good, be quiet.

They were gone for a while now. It's been a few weeks since you last woke up at midnight, silence devouring you alive, searching for a comfort that just wasn't there. After a lifetime of nights filled with terror, you saw the anesthetized sleep as a good omen.

Should you see this night as a bad one?

Part of you hoped to be proven wrong. With your fingers brushing against your lips, you wonded if you really screamed in your sleep. In worse nights, worse times, you would wake up to your father holding you down. He isn't there, your house is silent.

Everything is fine.

But hope is a treacherous thing. So easily it lift you up to your feet, so quickly it shoves you down on the ground again.

Of course you father isn't holding you down. Of course your house is silent. Of course you feel alone. It's because you are.

A messenger came a few hours ago. Someone was injured. If they didn't bring the girl there, the reason was obvious: it was so bad they were afraid to move her. And if your parents aren't home already, then it is worse than you have imagined.

You hugged yourself. You know that being alone in that house is the first step for your mind to break you. You would start to think about this place, about your old home, and soon your mind would worry about the place you need to go when he is back.

If he comes back. After this war is over, will you have a husband you despise or a funeral to attend? A husband you dislike is easy to deal with, specialy if he comes back sick and tired. To find another one is worse: they might chose one you hate.

Steps made you stop worrying. Your heard the gate swing open, and that made you walk barefeet to the entrance of your home. Brushing your eyes, you noticed a shadow getting closer to the main door. They're home now.

For now, all you wanted was to not be alone anymore. "I had another nightmare", you spoke while sliding the door open, aware they could hear you from the other side. "Is she dead?"

Instead of what you expected, you saw him.

His golden gaze felt so heavy on your skin. The tall man, surrounded by darkness as if it was his to command, covered by fur and smelling like steel and iron. His sword glistened, his teeth too.

You felt like a prey. A sleepy rabbit facing a hungry wolf. His gaze reminded you of a predator, a cruel one playing with its meal.

Then you saw the eagle on his broad arm. That made you aware of his name. Oh, how you head the whispers. A man surrounded by death and blood. The bearer of destruction and fear. Leader of an army with a single duty: to break China apart.

"No one died tonight", Shan Yu whispered, somehow apologetic. As if he was an unexpected visitor with a good reason to surprise you, not a wild man that appeared in the middle of the night armed while you're alone. "You had another nightmare?"

You should've screamed. You should've ran away from him. But instead, understanding the only thing keeping Shan Yu from being violent is his desire to do so, you looked into his eyes and pretended to be fine. "What do you seek here?"

Closer, Shan Yu discovered he was wrong about you. The light inside your eyes was a mistake of his. They're on fire. Burning inside you, you soul warmed him.

"Your heart", Shan Yu answered, taking a step back. "Care to join me?"

You glared at the open gates, then at his eyes again. You waited for a manic laugh, a mean gaze, anything that showed the violence implicit on his words. If it was there, your eyes didn't catch it.

A hun after a chinese. A man oathed to destroy your nation asking for your heart. Maybe a few years ago when you were young and stupid this could almost sound like a fairytale. You know how to name this situation: spoil of war.

"You said no one died tonight", your throat burned. "But if I don't follow you... someone will, right?"

It took him a second, but the true meaning of your words hit Shan Yu like a poisoned arrow. "I wasn't threatening you", he started to clarify his intentions, but you stepping forward shut him.

Shan Yu saw anger on your eyes, disgust on the curl of your lips. Violence fits you heavenly. "But you will hurt others", how dry you sounded. Heartless. But he could see the truth behind it all. You were about to explode, but couldn't allow yourself to. "I rather not see this village burn like the others you passed by."

Shan Yu takes what he wants, claims what he desire, get rid of what doesn't fit his goals. But you're not a thing to be possessed. You're a person. A person that shines and burns. He can't take your love from you. Shan Yu can only hope for it.

Shan Yu wants to earn you.

"You will be my empress", he declared. "My heart is yours. I will wait until you feel the same. I won't touch you unless you allow me. I will protect your honor, defend your body and mind."

You chuckled. "Shan Yu, do you really believe in love at first sight?"

"Moon, I will give you China as a dowry", was his answer.

Your name coming out of his mouth made shivers run down your spine. You sighed. "You won't give up, will you?"

He wouldn't. Shan Yu would never.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 3

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.2k

cw: misogynistic language

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

masterlist

when you got upstairs soap had already set your bags in a spare room, though you noticed that they hadn’t been snooped in, probably ghost’s doing.

nathan was sitting on the bed huffing loudly, having thrown his luggage on the floor in exhaustion after going up the stairs. he didn’t say anything, just gave you a glaring side eye and went back to his huffing and puffing. the room was.. nice? like genuinely nice.

it seriously could be a picture on some teenage girl’s cottage core bedroom inspo pinterest board. which is not something you thought you’d ever say about an adult man’s decorating style. he had delicate flower print bedsheet, sheer curtains with lace trim, an antique dresser, and cream colored wallpaper.

“this room is nice, isn’t it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

nathan just glanced at you, “it’s creepy. and this bed is too hard.” you just rolled your eyes when he turned back to go through his luggage to grab his phone.

“right, well, i’m going to head downstairs, help them get dinner ready. you can stay up here, if you want.”

nathan just grumbled an affirmative, his eyes glued to his screen. you made your way down the creaking stairs, now quite sure that you

couldn’t get a drink of water in the middle of the night without alerting the whole house.

“how’s the room for you? need anything?” john asked, hearing you coming around the bend to the kitchen.

“it’s beautiful, actually,” you said, a grin on your face.

soap laughed, “didnae peg the big guy to be an interior decorator then?”

you shook your head, “no, actually, i didn’t.”

john just waved johnny off, “i’m not an interior decorator, i just had some stuff laying around the house, you know?” when he turned around to grab a towel off the counter, johnny gave you a pointed look as if to signal that he was only telling a half-truth.

you giggled slightly, then muffled it behind your hand when john turned back around. he eyed both of you apprehensively but returned to the stove.

“what are we making for dinner?” you asked.

“i was thinking potato soup, if that’s alright with you?” john asked, pulling a sack of potatoes from beside the door and hefting them onto the counter.

“is there anything i can do to help?” you asked.

“och, no, cannae make a lady such as yerself get her hands dirty” soap said, making you laugh again, blushing slightly.

“you can help peel the potatoes?” john offered. you nodded, taking a knife from him, then picking up a potato, you started peeling along with price and soap.

“where’s simon, by the way?” you asked, suddenly wondering where the masked behemoth of a man had gone. it’s strange how well he was able to disappear since he was such a big man, seems like it’d be the opposite. though, you suppose, that was his job for however many years, hard to break the habit of being stealthy.

“he’s checking on the animals for me” john answered. he and johnny were going noticeably faster than you, and you tried to pick up the pace.

“animals? you mean you have some here at the farm?” you asked. “some chickens, a few pigs, and a couple cows”

he answered, “if you’d like, i can show you around tomorrow morning?”

“that’d be wonderful! tha- shit!” you cried out as your knife slipped and you sliced deep into your hand.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, i’m so sorry” you said, cradling your hand to your stomach, watching helplessly as blood rushed to the surface of the cut.

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have anything to be sorry for” john said, rushing to your side with a towel, taking your hand in his and pressing the towel onto your hurt hand.

“i’m gonna get the first aid kit” johnny said hurriedly as he rushed off into the other room.

the room spun slightly, and you wobbled into john while trying to keep yourself steady, “sorry” you muttered.

“it’s okay, stop apologizing” he said gruffly, leading you to the couch. you sat down and he maneuvered your other hand on top of where his was a second ago, “keep pressure on this, alright?” you just nodded, deciding to focus on holding the towel rather than the faint ringing in your ears. you closed your eyes, willing the nausea to go away.

after a while of keeping pressure on your wound, john found it okay to take it off as the bleeding had ceased. johnny brought over the kit, which was a metal box with a red cross symbol on it, and a bottle of whisky.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what’s that for? cleaning the wound?”

johnny laughed and shook his head, “it’s for yer courage, lass, dinnae wanna waste a good whisky on yer hand.”

he fished a bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of the metal box and showed it to you, “this is for cleaning the wound, aye?”

you just looked to john who nodded, “he’s right. the cut is big enough that we’ll probably have to stitch it up, and i find that it’s better when your senses are a bit dulled.”

he grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet and walked back over to pour the whisky. he offered it to you, “i’m not gonna force you to take it, but i think it might do you some good.”

you hesitated for a moment and then grabbed the drink from him. you paused for a moment and then threw it back, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat. you coughed at the sensation, making both men laugh.

“good, ain’t it?” johnny said with a toothy grin.

you grimaced but nodded, “strong” was all you could get out.

“now’s the hard part, you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?” john said, sinking to your level, his dark brown eyes had softened as they looked in yours.

you swallowed thickly but nodded, “yes, sir.” he smiled softly and started opening the bottle of peroxide.

“ye want to hold onto my hand, bonnie?” you looked to johnny, who had sat beside you on the couch with an outstretched hand. wordlessly, you took his hand with your unharmed one and squeezed it appreciatively.

soap maybe regretted his offer after john poured the peroxide onto your hand, finding the tips of his fingers had gone bloodless from you squeezing the life out of him. he seemed to be having a worse time of it than you, he was barely holding back numerous curse words from spilling out.

“see? all done” john said as he gently dabbed at the wound. you nodded weakly.

“you’re doing so good,” he said in a softer voice, brushing your hair behind your ear. it was actually embarrassing how quickly that made you flush. “stitches next, alright? you need to take a break or anything?” he asked. he looked so earnest, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time nathan had ever looked at you like that, maybe never.

“i.. i’m fine, you can keep going, thank you” you said, hurriedly.

he nodded and got to work, moving quickly with the needle like he had done this many times before. he probably had, now that you were thinking about it, ended up in some desolate place with just the stuff on his back and some kind of bullet wound. and here you were, complaining and whining about getting stitches in a nice, warm house after you accidentally cut yourself while peeling potatoes. “sorry, i didn’t mean to make this into such a big deal,” you said as he finished.

the scot breathed a sigh of relief when you let go of his hand, shaking it about to get the blood flowing again. “och, nonsense lass, nothing to be sorry for. it was a nasty cut, think that any one of us might’ve reacted worse than you, aye?” johnny comforted you.

“johnny’s right, no sense in apologizing for things you ought not be sorry for.”

“so-“ you stopped yourself before you apologized again.

“alright, thank you, then.” both men’s faces brightened.

“ah, anytime, bonnie.”

“of course.”

after john finished wrapping it in gauze you heard the creak of the stairs. you looked over to see nathan coming down the steps, seeming like he had gotten over his temper tantrum. his eyebrows furrowed when he looked over at you three,

“what the hell happened?”

“i.. cut myself when i was peeling potatoes.”

“god, well, here, let me see” he said, walking up to you and grabbing your injured hand. he twisted it back and forth sharply trying to see the injury through the gauze, making you cry out in pain. “hey! be gentle with her, i don’t want you to rip her stitches.” john said, quickly rising to his feet.

“i was just trying to look at it, i didn’t hurt you, right baby?” nathan asked you. you looked between the two men and could only stammer out an incomprehensible response.

“speak up” nathan said.

john stepped closer to him, “don’t talk to her like that.”

johnny quickly stepped between the two, sensing that this argument was going to just get worse and end with someone in the hospital. “let’s just calm down, don’t wanna do anything we’ll regret, aye?” he looked pointedly at nathan.

just that moment, simon walked in the door, peeling off his muddy boots before he looked over at the spectacle in the living room.

“what the hell is going on here?” he asked, immediately straightening up, his eyes narrowing. if nathan thought that he could maybe take on john, or johnny, he was sure he couldn’t take on simon, so he withered under simon’s unabashed glare.

“it was just a misunderstanding” johnny explained, which nathan nodded along vigorously to. seeming satisfied, simon just huffed and continued stripping off his muddied outerwear.

ghost, soap, and john all finished peeling the potatoes, though they made you swear you’d never go near a knife again. something that you agreed to readily, you needed a break from sharp things, for at least a little while.

you couldn’t imagine how things would have gone if you were by yourself when it happened. or even if nathan was there, he didn’t seem much help and he even ended up gripping your hand a bit too hard later, something that got another silencing glare from simon.

once john had finished the soup, he ladled it out into bowls and set them onto the delicately decorated table. you bit back another comment on him being an interior decorator, guessing he had been teased enough by johnny and simon.

“it looks delicious, thank you” you said, picking up your spoon.

“i wouldn’t thank me until you’ve tried it” he said, taking his place at the table.

“dinnae be putting yerself down cap’n, besides, not easy to mess up this soup.”

“well, soap, i’m sure price can do anything he puts his mind to” ghost said, his eyes crinkling with a smile, he had taken his mask off to eat, revealing a face that was ruggedly handsome, especially because it was covered in scars, a particularly large one slashed through his lips.

john just shook his head at them and started eating, you followed suit. it was delicious, almost worth stabbing your hand for, really.

nathan hardly touched the stuff, however, claiming that he wanted to stay in shape, and nothing so fattening as potatoes and cheese. he gave you a pointed look as you finished your bowl, making the food settle like a stone at the bottom of your stomach.

john stood up from the table suddenly, the chair scraping on the floor harshly, “alright, that’s enough of that. i’ve tolerated your comments and actions long enough but that’s the final fucking straw. you’re in my house now, and in my house we are kind and respectful to women,” john said, pointing an accusatory finger at nathan, whose face turned a bright shade of red.

“i don’t care if it’s your fucking house, that’s my fucking girl that you’ve been basically flirting with all day, and you know what? i’m done with it. i’m done with it all. i won’t take this disrespect anymore. get up, we’re leaving. i’ll call my dad to come pick us up,” nathan said, pulling up at your arm.

you stayed put, looking around the table, simon raised his eyebrows to you, as if silently asking for the signal to take care of him. you looked from nathan’s angry face to john’s stern expression back to simon and shook your head.

standing up, you turned to nathan, who looked mildly relieved that you had listened to him. “nathan, i have something to tell you.”

he rolled his eyes, exasperated, “can it wait?”

you forced down a scream, “no, it can’t.”

he sighed, “okay, spit it out then.”

“i’m breaking up with you.”

a/n: i honestly hc that john watches hgtv or some variation bc one time it was the only thing palatable on tv. he denies ever watching anything of the sort but best believe he can outdo martha stewart.

taglist:

@readgoods

@rip-cod-brainrot

@anticipayosbot

@cyaniderainfall

@theclassicvinyldragon

[sigmasoyboy]

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]

Was suggested on instagram to write from Gage's POV and thinking about how I would ever write from someone who's been essentially dog lobotomized actually got me thinking so hard I started writing. The formatting of this one is a reading nightmare but the never ending run-on sentence tightly packed into one block of text feels the most appropriate to a dog's inner thoughts so… You have to suffer for the sake of art™️

cw: ableist and misogynistic language, PTSD, panic attack, murder, vomit, loss of humanity through being genetically spliced with a dog

Right now there is only [RUNNING] and [PANTING] and the wind whipping your face and twigs digging into your paw pads and snapping under your weight and the sweat tickling the inside of your thigh as it rolls down the expanse of your (ever) hairless leg. You almost want to throw your hands down into the decaying grass and leaves to propel your body further but (something) keeps you anchored to your bipedal ways, your body knows it was never made for sprinting on all four but your body was also bent once and could probably be bent further all the way to the other side transhumanised so far the evolutionary path to break all knowns nomenclature and classification and leap from (human) to [DOG] just as you do out of the shrubbery as soon as your hear [YOUR NAME], toes skidding into the overgrown lawn as you halt, tongue hanging out dumbly trying as you might to bring moisture back into your bone dry mouth. The useless instincts you (forcefully) have inherited work against you but thankfully [HE!!!] turns on the garden hose [HE!!] uses to bath you with and fresh water springs out, splattering everywhere against your open mouth. There used to be a better way to drink but you (forgot) how so you chew at the air trying to catch this pesky pesky water into your mouth while getting drenched, you were hot anyway, running so so hot from all the excess dopamine secreted by your happy happy dumb brain, so easily pleased.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]; it’s the 100th time you thought this exact thing today not with words or inner monologue only pure unadulterated stabs at your mesocorticolimbic circuit, things are only [GOOD] or [BAD] not in terms of the morals (you lacked) but in terms of [PLEASURE] and [PAIN], so simple and so good like quenching your thirst and moving your limbs and eating and shitting and nerve endings being stimulated by a [GOOD SCRATCH] just like [HE] is doing right now immediately replacing the serotonin from the water [HE] just shut off, not having a care in the world for how greasy your (hair) feels or the way you wildly shake off to dry yourself or the fact that you are (not) a dog at all. You wouldn’t get any of it anyway because all you understand now is [ANGRY] and [SOFT] tone so as long as [HE] coos at (you) softly [HE] can say anything and (you) would happily (giggle) and [RUB YOUR HEAD] against his big calloused hands even if he was (talking shit). You were liberated against your (will) and you are too dumb to realize it, of course you are why would you ever stop and try to think when you can just march alongside [HIM] like [HE TAUGHT] [YOU]] like a good stupid fuckass (dog) getting all [EXCITED] because you realize [HE] is walking towards the [KITCHEN] which can only mean any and all (doubt) or [FEAR] that’s desperately trying to join each others can be [SILENCED] by a motherfucking spoonfull of [PEANUT BUTTER HOLY SHIT] sticky and salty and obstructing your airway momentarily but thank goodness you still know how to breath through your (nose) while you smack your (lips) desperately trying to (get away from the [DELICIOUS TREAT] clawing at the leathery cushion with your splitting nails nerve endings stimulated by [HURT HURT HURT FUCK what did you do why were you bad why is this happening to you this wasn’t supposed to happen you weren’t supposed to get caught in the first place but the [BITC H] squealed and slipped through your fingers and now you’re the one being [GUD LA DET SLUTTE VÆR SÅ SNILL] you should’ve made a bigger hole and (fucked it) so [BAD] no one will ever be able to identify your whore bitch corpse you r eally fucked up this time you can barely breathe through any hole now in out in out in out head heavy with the weight of ([HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS]) getting really really light so much so you don’t feel your (claws) slicing until the victim became unrecognizable aggravated [MASSACRE] of your (ultimate reality) now there’s only [DROOL] and a little bit of [VOMIT] and your clammy skin against the (cold old tiles) of the kitchen floor and [HIS] form above you [WARM] palm encircling almost your entire still trembling arm and (garbled speech) you can never [UNDERSTAND] again, it’s so [WARM] and (nice) your [TAIL] slaps the kitchen floor, beginning to unknot [HIS] brow as you can feel yourself (smiling) dumbly at [HIM]. And now there is only [PETTING] and [ROLLING ON THE FLOOR] with the sweet-acrid aroma of [PEANUT BUTTER] and [VOMIT] [HE] stops you from [LAPPING] just before your tongue touches it.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS].

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 3

Prompt: Hate Sex Pairing: Designer!Hyunjin x femCoder!Reader WC: 2260 Summary: Hyunjin wants one thing from you, stop calling him “pretty boy”, he can’t help he was born beautiful. This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Hyunjin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy. TW/CW under the cut.

Warnings: reader implied/is a bully, older reader (age gap not specified), name calling (”slut”, “dumbass”, “asshole”, creative insults around genitalia, gendered/misogynist insults), crying during (reader), PWOP, cum in mouth, unprotected intercourse. I’m also going to call out, sort of dubcon-y as most hate sex is.

 Pretty boy was not a compliment when you said it. Always laced with venom or a sneer. It was as though you’d branded Hyunjin as worthless with two words. Only good as a person to look at. Objectified and demeaned. Even he couldn’t deny that he was in fact a very pretty man. Long brown hair, full pouty lips, deep irises, with a slender yet muscular frame. Not exactly effeminate but not exactly masculine. A beautiful human no matter how you slice it. Which is why your nickname angered him so much.

 It wasn’t easy for you either. Years in the tech field had hardened you. It was a man’s world and you were used to the bro code that had been instilled in you from the early days of voice chat. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, bully or become the bullied. The tech sector was the same.

 Hyunjin wasn’t even in your cohort but you hated him from the moment you saw him. Fresh intern class filing into the large hall for their orientation. You’d hoped that he’d get eaten alive, the soft sensitive looking man thrown unceremoniously into the pool of piranhas. Instead he was gifted to the design department, a soft job for a soft kid. What was worse was his lack of coding knowledge, mostly having worked in print materials the world of internet and tech was foreign and frustrating. Worse still was that despite this he was good at his job, rising through the ranks to be your equal, forcing the two of you into the same project groups quarter after quarter. Any rank you could pull, you did, age included, and he seemed to take it.

 He hadn’t meant to follow you into the windowless supply closet. It just so happened both departments were in dire need of different items. Somehow you’d been conscripted into packaging fancy boxes for capital contributors and design had sent a large order to the floor’s printer with no paper nor ink to spare. The door opening startled you, locking eyes with him as you stare at each other for once devoid of the low boiling slurry of distaste and distrust. Quickly the moment snaps.  Returning to the status quo you sigh, “oh, just you, pretty boy.”  “Stop calling me pretty boy.” Hyunjin states simply. He doesn’t want to make it a huge fight, trying to assume only your best intentions. Part of him figured this would be the only private moment he’d ever have with you, so might as well make use of it.  “Why? It’s true.” You shrug, busy peering in drawers and boxes for your extra packaging supplies. “You’re a very pretty man who is younger than me. A boy. A pretty boy.”  “It’s dismissive. I’m more than that,” the tension strains his voice. “You know I’m more than that. I put in work, effort. I have a passion. Just because I can’t translate it to whatever arcane language you use doesn’t-”  “Listen pretty boy,” you stand up and sneer at him, eyes locked and narrowed. “If I could afford to be as lacking as you, I would. The world has taught you that all you need to do is the bare fucking minimum and doing anything more is considered a large effort. So, pretty boy, count your blessings if I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”  Hyunjin sucks his teeth, a snort of disbelief escaping. “The only people who have ever called me pretty have either wanted to fuck me or be fucked by me so which one is it for you?” His eyes narrow and study you as he steps closer. Your pulse quickens, blood roiling. How dare this brat? How dare he challenge you.  “Neither,” you answer him with daggers in your eyes.  His lips twitch at the corners. “Are you sure about that? You’re barely breathing right now. I wonder if I stepped closer,” his voice trails off. “Or maybe brushed against you, by accident of course.”  “Even HR couldn’t mediate the amount of lawsuits I’d hit you with.” He’s right. You hold your breath as he gets even closer, just staring. You start to dodge around his side but his body blocks yours, shoulder sinking into his chest as he backs you against the shelves, forcing you to tilt your chin to look up at his face. The way your body so quickly betrayed you was concerning to all the ideals you’d upheld for years, tingling and burning endorphins flooding you with dizzying speed.

 Slowly he leans his torso forward almost nose to nose, hands holding onto the shelf and caging you in. “Bet you’ve just been waiting for someone to do this to you, slut.”  The sting comes before the sound, your hand crossing his cheek as swiftly as the word leaves his mouth. “Call me a slut again.”  “Slut.” He hisses, leaning into you. There isn’t quite the surprise to dull the pain of the hit this time, his body is ready for it as you wind up and slap him again. He half smiles, half smirks, tongue bit between his teeth.  “Fuck that’s hot,” your tone is hushed, almost reverent, a revelation as more for yourself than for him. Your lips and tongue clash and fight for dominance as he claims your mouth with his. It’s more a battle than a kiss, both of you unwilling to break first, chasing the other, gasping and groping like teenagers at each other's bodies.  He finally breaks, lips pink and puffy and shining with saliva. The clink of the metal buckle of his belt has you practically dripping. Forcefully he spins you and shoves you, face into the roughly coated cinder block wall.  “Gonna fuck you like the bitch you are.” He mutters, plosives laced with venom. You moan pathetically as his arm presses to your mid back.  “Give it your best shot pretty boy, this making your micropeen hard? Can’t get laid so you have to fight your way into a quick fuck?”  Hyunjin laughs, cackles, harshly grabbing your ass. “Could ask the same for you. Truly I can’t imagine anyone wanting to stick their dick anywhere near your cobweb cunt. Should I check? Should I check to see?”  “Go ahead dumbass, if you can even find it.” You hiss. “All talk no-”  A rip of your stockings and cool air hitting your soaked panties halts the verbal sparring match. Pushing your panties aside he sinks a finger into your hot core, gasping together. “Who’s all talk now? So soaked I slipped right in. Dumb needy hole trying to milk my finger. Gonna thaw you out ice princess.”  You hope he does. Dragging your torso down the wall, your back arches into him, pushing his single digit deeper, wiggling your hips. The swish of his pants crumpling to the floor  “I’m waiting, pretty boy, or is it already in and I just can’t feel it?” Your negging continues, heart fluttering in anticipation. Everything he does is just out of your range of vision, you have no idea what to expect. Even in your heavy petting you hadn’t grabbed for him.  Finger withdrawn he drags the head of his cock along your slit. Hyunjin knows what he’s about to do is mean, he’s felt how tight you are. For a second he considers properly prepping you, stretching you out nicely before abusing your hole. Poised at your entrance he grabs a fistful of hair at the nape of your neck, lips pressing to the shell of your ear. “Ready princess?”  “On you pretty boy,” you sneer in response.  The blunt pressure of his thick member ripping through your walls twists your stomach. Filling you in a single push, Hyunjin muffles your scream with his lips. It steals your breath as your body fights the intrusion. Your legs alternate kicking and shaking below you, suddenly happy to have Hyunjin’s weight pinning you up to the wall.

 “Dumb slut, do you want to get caught? Screaming like that you’ll let the whole company know you’re bending over like a bitch for me.” Hyunjin chides, holding still inside you. His harsh words soothed by his hands, gingerly fixing your hair to the opposite shoulder. Arms wrapping around your chest and waist he holds you close, face buried in your neck.  “Big right?” The soft words are muffled by your skin.  “Mhmphf.”  His teeth run over sensitive spots along your neck, sending you shivering and shuddering in his grasp. “Good right?”  “Yeeehsthhh!” You lisp and writhe.  “Embarrassing right? Getting run through by some kid like me. Gonna slut you out princess.”  Turning your head so you are nose to nose you growl, “shut up and fuck me, pretty boy.”  Hearing his nickname he laughs, blood boiling a bit harder, and unceremoniously pulls out. A pitiful whine escapes your lips with the loss of pressure in your gut. Before you can scold him again he pushes all the way to the hilt again, hearing the air catching in your throat from words lost to pleasure. Each thrust is slow and torturous, felt to the fullest by your walls hugging him in. Despite not working hard you pant like a cat in heat, overwhelmed by the ache of your cunt.  “Afraid you’re gonna cum first?” You jab between groans, frustration clouding your senses. He’s just too slow to build past the agonizing beginnings of your orgasm.  “‘M being kind, can’t have you passing out on me.”  “Bold of you.”  Sucking a small bruise into your neck he buries himself deeply inside of you. “If you insist.”  Instead of withdrawing again his hand skims down your belly to your mound, long thin fingers circling your clit. Each passing swipe coordinates with a shallow thrust, just enough to stimulate you inside and out. All you can do is take what he is giving you, body giving up to his ministrations.  “Shit I think-” you gasp and shake, “I’m gonna cum.”  “I bet you are.” Hyunjin sneers, “and who is to thank for that?”  “You. You are. You.” You burble.  “Who?” His grasp harshens, hips snapping harder.  “HYUNJIN. Fucking asshole. You. Hyunjin. Fuck.” You cum violently around him, walls of your sex baring down on him as a fresh wave of arousal coats the both of you. You cry out, fat tears welling in your eyes as overstimulation hits you like a train, moans turning to choked sobs as you try to catch your breath.  Both of you are sweaty, you shake. Hyunjin maneuvers the both of you to your knees on the ground, your body leaving a shine to the wall where it was pressed. He pulls his slacks under your arms to cushion what they could from the cement. “I made you cum, your turn.”  “Wha?”  His hand comes down hard on your ass, snapping you out of your lusty haze. “Fuck yourself on my cock.” The demanding and demeaning tone has your blood rushing even in your sensitive state. With a sniffle you start moving your hips back and forth, each slide making a grotesque sloppy slick sound. Hyunjin pushes back his sweat and hair from his brow, eyes locked to where he disappears inside of you. “Cunt looks good hugging my cock like this.”  If he’s all about visuals, you’ll be a feast for his eyes. You gorge yourself on him, taking your time like he did to you. Rolling your hips decadently and letting your greedy pussy work itself around him. Hyunjin tries to keep his hands from you, to make you do the work, to take a small petty revenge for the multitude of emails politely thrown back to him by you. He can’t, finally folding, grabbing fistfulls of ass and hips and thighs. He joins you, bent over and caging you again like an animal. Together, writhing as one, grunting as one, your chemistry has never worked better. But it can’t last forever, you can feel his thick muscle seizing inside of you, lower abs and thighs tensing against the cleft of your ass.  “Where,” chokes in a stuttered hurried whisper. “I’m gonna-”  Summoning strength you push up, righting the both of you, pulling him out. It’s the first good luck you’ve gotten of him, flushed red and sweaty and fucked out. He’s impressive for a skinny guy, thick and veiny and heavy in your hands as you continue to stroke him out of habit. Fingers covered in slick release precum flows freely from the tip. “Mouth. Hurry.”  Standing shakily he leans back into the wall, “gonna swallow like a good slut?” Holding the head of his dick to your tongue he pumps pointed down your throat. Your tongue flexes against the underside, massaging the ridge. Hyunjin can’t believe his eyes, you kneeling in front of him, defiantly staring him down as you wait for him to cum. Almost daring him to spill his load anywhere else. With an airy whine a globule of release hits your tongue, hot and bitter. Hyunjin’s hips kick forward, fucking his palm and the top of your tongue, pushing his cum deeper into your throat and making you gag. “Shit,” he hisses as you gag again, another string shooting directly into your throat. Palm to his hip you slide his cock further back, using it to force the bitter seed into your stomach. “Holy shit you’re really-god your throat-that-keep that.”  Gulping the last down you pull from him grimacing and wiping your face. “Two words; pineapple juice, pretty boy.”  “That’s four.”

I always get carried away lmao. This is definitely towards the rougher end of my comfort zone with characters. I can’t help be aware of the fact that some people do take fanfic as a guide to what to expect or hope for with their relationships so it’s a little difficult for me to push that to the back of my mind.

[oddtransfem]

Welcome to my blog 𖤐

I am Mera. I am a black and Native American intersex lesbian transfeminist who creates theory on underdiscussed topics. I am an AV (assignment-variant) transgender woman. For more on what that means, see here.

For my other intro post:

https://www.tumblr.com/oddtransfem/760470782157651968/mera-lastname-chimericbeautybskysocial

Yes, at birth I was designated female. That event has impacted my experience with and relationship to transfemininity/transmisogyny. Regardless, like any other trans person, I do not identify with the gender assigned to me at birth. I identify as a woman, which I was not assigned. Yes “female” and the social category of woman are two different things.

On this blog, “female” refers to patriarchal gender assignment which determines that the women should be defined by immutability, subjugation and essential biological traits. Here, it does not describe biological sex or gender identity. Do not misunderstand me.

My essay delves into this further. If that makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore me, block me or even send me asks with critiques of my analysis. A good theory holds up to scrutiny which I believe mine does. I'm open to conversation and discussion, but I will not tolerate transphobia (associating me with my assigned sex ie. calling me “an AFAB”) or purposeful misrepresentation of my posts or beliefs. If you're here to treat me as “less trans” than other trans women or to tell me I deserve less of a voice or a narrative in transfeminine spaces then frankly fuck off.

I will block TwERFS, transphobes, trans/misogynists, racists, etc. or harassment on sight.

My posts of personal experience are based on my own struggles as a target of transmisogyny, I share them partly because this site needs more black transfeminized narratives but also to show how someone like me exists as a trans woman.

For more information, see my Bluesky, Substack, or Medium.

Block #transmisogyny tw and #transmisogyny cw if that content triggers you. Check my featured tags for more.

FAQ

Is this an AFAB transfem blog?

No, this blog is about transfeminized people in general. Sometimes that does include people who weren't assigned male at birth, transgender people with feminine gender identities that fundamentally don't align with what their assignments and that resist patriarchal gender norms. Therefore I consider them under the transfeminine umbrella.

I have issues with the term “AFAB transfem”, it's not one I like to identify with because it equates us to our assignments which is counterintuitive to the point of transitioning. That is why I created an alternate label.

Do you support AFAB transfems?

I have complicated feelings. While I largely support self-determination, I think there are some internalized issues with the way many people who use the term frame their experience with transfemininity. Transfemininity is often implictly described as some disconnection to womanhood or the presence of masculine characteristics and it should not be. This is a product of the system of transmisogyny that dominates the world, many self described AFAB transfems have internalized these messages. They may actually be transfeminine and not know how to seperate womanhood and female assignment. I have compassion for trans people without the proper language to define themselves but I don't appreciate seeing those sentiments because they deny me of womanhood as a trans woman too.

Are you an AFAB transfem?

Even though technically I was assigned female at birth and am transfeminine, I am not “an AFAB transfem”. Referring to me as “an AFAB” associates with me my gender assignment which is a transphobic position. I would never describe another trans woman as “an AMAB”. Neither AFAB nor AMAB is a social category nor identity. It is a description of the coercive designation society assigns to infants at birth that determines what they're supposed be.

I am a trans woman because I am trans in relationship to my gender assignment — of which I do not identify — and utterly and entirely a woman.

Are you TME or TMA?

Considering that I am often targeted by transmisogyny as someone who both transgresses gender assignment and who is a woman it would be mistaken to consider me TME. This is not me trying to call myself the most marginalized out of everyone, it acknowledges my material reality and lived experiences with transmisogyny that not only target me but also contextualize every aspect of my day to day life. I have lived with the internal experience of being trans ever since I was born and an external one for years now; excluding transmisogyny from an assessment of my marginalization leaves out necessary factors that contribute to my social position.

Transfeminism?

I am a very avid transfeminist. My theory, my accounts, my blog is all based around it. I have done a lot of reading and a lot of living which has defined my own analysis. Do not assume that because of my assignment I am for some reason naïve surrounding topics within transfeminism. I have intricate knowledge of gender assignment and the functions of transmisogyny especially.

[lolotheparagon]

CW: misogynist language usage in third panel of the post

Meet the irritating lovable mascot of Audacious Regulars, Curtis the Cuckoo Bird. Originally part of an old cuckoo clock that belonged to Audrey's late grandmother, he magically came to life and now he wont stop annoying people, hitting on women and riding shopping carts in the parking lot. Because he's a cartoon character from the 30s, he has a lot of yikes to unlearn. Fortunately, Audrey and her friends manage to help him become a much more open-minded, healthy person. Despite his brash attitude and hair-trigger temper, he likes a lot of calm, focused activites like playing piano and meditating. Curtis also develops a friendship with Jae-Hyeon, the pet shop owner

Here is a quick little comic about Curtis interacting with the rest of the guys in the Audacious crew

[bunny-jpeg]

make amends (max's version)

max verstappen & lando norris

cw: smut/pwp, lando's gf!reader, sharing & forgiveness, dirty talk/degradation, slut shaming, language that can be taken as misogynistic, filth, big dick!max, missionary, in this one you fuck max

lando's version

bunny says: i know everything has been amended, but c'mon! c'mon!

lando knew that he fucked up majorly. it was the kind of fuck up that couldn't be overturned with a simple apology. it was the kind of fuck up that he knew that the media was going to have a frenzy over.

even though he stood his ground and thought that this was all max's fault, but deep down he knew that he'd have the give the other driver a peace offering.

that came in the form of his cute girlfriend.

"i need a favour, you know how much max means to me." lando said as he pushed his hand up the skirt of your sundress, "how about we apologize for what we did by letting him fuck you." lando gave you his best puppy-dog eyes.

you didn't notice that he was pinning the incident on the track on both of you, as if he wasn't the one in the driver's seat. that it was something that you had to amend as well. and by doing that, it meant having max between your legs.

lando approached max on media day of silverstone. if he thought convincing you was easy, it was even easier to get max onboard. he told the other driver, "my girl wants to make it up to you. for what happened. it wasn't,... right of me to do that to you . so why don't you meet us at the hotel tonight? blow some steam off, champion." lando winked at the other man and slapped him on the shoulder.

"is she okay with this?"

lando laughed, "she's insatiable. but loyal like a good puppy." he seemed a little smug, "she was actually quite happy at the chance to help. she hates when we all fight. you know what she's like."

max raised his eyebrows, "give me your room number and i'll let you know when i can come." lando texted him the room number and the thoughts of lando's cute fuck toy girlfriend were on his mind as he went about his day.

in the evening, lando was happy to dress you up for max. in all honesty his second choice was to have you all tied up. he threw a sheer two piece set at you and told you to change.

it barely covered anything and the fabric that did was sheer, you could see your nipples through them! you adjusted the strap in the bathroom mirror and thought about putting your hair up. but you knew by the end of the night you were going to be a total mess so there was zero point.

lando came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. he was shirtless in some stretchy shorts and tube socks. his clothed cock was pressed up against your back.

"no you better be good for our guest tonight." he said as he kissed your neck, "i want you to be a good girl for him. i need him to forgive us for what we did."

you nodded, "i will. i'm always good." you stuck out your bottom lip and lando grazed his hand across your barely clothed pussy. you blushed when he kissed your neck.

he held you in his arms until there was a knock at the door. he smiled and pulled away, he instructed for you to get onto the bed and stay there. you scampered away and got yourself up onto the bed.

you tried to position yourself in a seductive way but ended up sitting at the edge with your bare feet barely touching the floor. you heard lando open the door and exchange conversations with max as they went through the lavish room and into the bedroom portion.

you looked up to them in the doorway.

max's words got caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you. oh, you were just beautiful weren't you? the sight of your beautiful body on display for him. he cleared his throat and turned to lando, "i forgive you." then patted the other driver on the shoulder.

the clothes started to come off, with lando close behind. when you tried to take your lingerie off, max said, "no, i want to take it off. you just sit there and look pretty."

both men were soon undressed and you swallowed. max got you laid out on the bed, his knee between your legs. he could feel the how soaked you were through the panties as he rubbed his knee up against your pussy.

he got bored of it soon and peeled them off of you lower half, followed by the bra. max lazily dragged his fingers across your swollen clit and smirked.

"max, shit." you moaned. you wanted to cover your face but you could feel the tension in your gut. the anticipation of what was to come.

max chuckled and looked to lando who had your head in his lap, his cock pressed up against your cheek. you were basically stuck between these two men. the anticipation of what was to come felt heavy in the air.

"she's got quite the mouth on her. thought you'd train her better, norris."

lando chuckled as tapped his hard cock against your cheek, smearing precum all over the skin, "she's usually behaved. i told her to be good for you, the sake of my career is on the line."

max laughed, "you told her that.' his eyebrows raised he spoke like you weren't even in the room, "it's nothing norris, just a flare up on the track. nothing is at stake. don't like to her, she might end up running away." he continued to push his knee up against your pussy.

you whimpered, your head felt dampened by the lust coursing through your body. the way they spoke about you turned you on. powerful men who used you like a chew toy, to bite up and rut as they so desire.

"she isn't going anywhere, mate." lando held you face to look up at him. those pretty eyes were overcast with darkness as he licked his lips at the sight of you rubbing against max's thigh, "right? you're not gonna whore yourself out to any man... well at least without my permission?"

you shook your head, "i wouldn't lando, i promise!" you could feel max shift and grab you by the hips to level with his cock. you looked to the other man and realized that his size was rather impressive.

"she looks like she's not going to be able to take it." max remarked.

lando laughed and combed his fingers through your hair, "are you gonna chicken out now?"

max looked at you and licked his bottom lip, he rubbed his cock up against your entrance. you were wet, it left a string is slick connecting your pussy to his cock. max knew that the downstairs was impressive, he often made sexual partners a little nervous.

before he could sink in, lando held the silver wrapped of a condom in his face. he looked at it and then looked past it at lando.

"i'm not raising your brat, mate. and i'm not taking chances on plan b." lando handed it over and watched as max quickly opened it and put it on. lando's cock on the other hand was bear against your face, getting precum all over the apple of your cheek and eyebrow. he'd get you pregnant if he wanted, but he wasn't letting a verstappen brat run around.

max jerked his cock with the condom on before he pressed into you. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he gripped onto your hips. he sank into you and was encouraged by the noises you made.

"you trained her well. she's obedient." max remarked as he touched your face. he then went in for a searing kiss as he started to fuck you. missionary was a little vanilla but he wanted to look at lando's little girlfriend as he fucked the hell out of her.

his thrusts were short and hard, his cock bulled its way into the back of your cunt and had your cheeks feeling heated. your core throbbed as he thrust more and more.

"well, training her was ea-sy!" lando beamed with pride, "turns out she's a hungry little when it comes to cum. she's a little freak like that." he patted your cheek a little harder than it looked.

"mmm, lando." you whimpered as you tried to turn your head. but max grabbed you by the chin to look at him.

"it's my turn, eyes on me. not your boyfriend." max said calmly, his face was red from the heat in his body. he maintained eye contact with you as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

there was a rhythm to it, he was in control. like how he was on the track. it left you feeling hot all over, like the tip of a match. you could feel it from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet.

you tightened your legs around his waist as he cock nudged against more sensitive areas. it was a heat running through you as you felt your mind start to go blank.

your pussy was painfully slick, your heart was hammering and you felt like you were going to melt from the heat in your core. his cock slammed against you and your breathing was ragged.

"she's a good fuck, eh, max?" lando chuckled as he watched the champion fuck his little girlfriend, "she's got a pussy to die for."

max chuckled, "you rent her out to all your rivals, or am i just special? because i think oscar would love a taste at this."

lando chuckled, "you're acting like we haven't done that already. he fuckin' marked her like he owned her! i own her! pussy and all." he shook his head.

"she is a good fuck, i can see why you'd want to make sure she didn't run off. gotta find me a girl like that."

lando's cock twitched at the compliment, "well not even a championship can guaranteed a good girl like this." he laughed and rubbed your hot face, "one in a million."

max chuckled, "bet you could find her anywhere. tight pussy, cute face." he knew that lando couldn't have the compliment for long, "i bet i could find one with a tighter pussy outside this hotel."

lando narrowed his eyes at the other driver, he could see the sweat at his temples, "right, right. i bet if i gave her in exchange for a win in hungary, you'd take it. you'd be fucking her in your private jet from here to there."

max leaned over you a little more to get closer to lando, as a result his cock got impossibly deep and a whimper left your lips. he smiled at lando, not the media smile he had. a real one, he said to lando, "ah, don't be too cocky, lando. that's what got you in trouble last time." his cock was hitting all your sweet spots.

"fuck, max."

max silenced you with another searing kiss. he hiked your hips further up so he could fuck you as hard as he could with the most leverage he could. his body was screaming to finish, but he didn't want to part from your sweet cunt.

however, climax dawned on you as you clutched onto the dutchman and felt the hit of orgasm shock your system! your toes curled your nails dug into the the other's shoulders. your pussy throbbed as you felt the high of orgasm.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "letting him fuck you." he stroked your face as you gasped for air. you looked at him with an unfocused gaze and he just thought you were adorable.

max continued to fuck you, feeling his own orgasm as well. he swore under his breath and kept rutting against you. your pussy fit him perfectly. with a few heavy thrusts he shoved his entire cock into you and finished in the condom.

"holy fuck." he grumbled as he held onto you for a moment, pulling you into another searing kiss. he grabbed you and rolled you over so your were on top, your thighs on either side of his waist.

you could tell he was still painfully hard.

lando basked in it. who would've known getting max to fuck you would make everything better. he laid beside the both of you in bed and stroked his cock. he said to you, your worried gaze looked back at him, "c'mon, love." he reached over and smacked your bare ass,"we have all night."

[squidorcuddlefish]

transfem josto headcanon pls.............?

a/n: gay people everywhere

i decided i’d do transmasc!reader with transfem!josto because i thought of more concepts for that scenario :3

cw for some angst, gender dysphoria, internalized transphobia, outdated language for transgender people (no slurs, though) & odd, kinda scary family structures.

SFW

• Arranged marriage… It was super awkward for the two of you at first. Neither of you two knew the other was trans. Or how to come out.

• The first few weeks were hell for the both of you. She had to pretend to be the strong, tough man of the house, and you had to pretend to be her loving, traditional wife…

• She loved to comment on the outfits your family bought for you, saying how pretty they were. You thought she was just being a “supportive boyfriend”, but she was just really jealous that you got to wear them.

• It finally all came out when you caught her sitting at your vanity, trying her best with your makeup. You were shocked when instead of her getting angry and throwing something at you (Like she would’ve done if anyone else had come in), she started panicking and crying instead.

It was sort of hard to word what you were trying to ask her. Assume the wrong thing and say the wrong words and you could’ve been killed. You try your best though, sitting next to her and brushing her hair out of her face. You tell her, “It’s okay. I think you look very pretty.”

She’s still for a while, but eventually clings to you and cries into your chest. Through sobs, she apologizes and says she’s “A perv.” You assure her she’s not.

With a lot of consideration, you finally ask if this is just a sexual thing, or if she has these feelings outside of sexual fantasies. She’s silent for a moment, nothing but the occasional sniffle from her. If saying that had pissed her off, you would’ve known by now, so you figure she’s just thinking about it.

“This is so wrong,” She says. “I can’t just be a woman. I’m supposed to take care of you, and my family, and our business, and…” She trails off.

“If it’s how you feel, hun, then it’s okay.”

“I wasn’t born a woman. I can’t be one. I won’t ever be one.”

You press your face into her hair and rub her back gently. “Can I tell you something?”

She looks up at you, her mascara streaking down her face.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking right now. Because, I,” You words get stuck in your throat for a moment. “Well, me too.”

That brings out the waterworks. She sobs and squeezes you close. She’s finally being understood. It’s been so long.

• The previous conversation brought you two closer than you ever would’ve thought. You really thought you’d be stuck with some cocky, misogynistic crime boss. She was, but you learnt that it was just an outer shell of her. A gimmick.

• It takes a long time for her shell to crack. She had spent so long building it up and didn’t really know how to break it down. She really appreciates your help, though. She especially likes when you let her try on your outfits.

• She loves to sit on your lap while you do her makeup. Sometimes you’ll hold a mirror up and let her watch what you’re doing so she can learn.

• You started gifting her ties with more feminine colors and patterns. If she can’t wear a skirt, at least she can wear a tie with some pretty flowers on it. Plus, it reminds her of you throughout the day.

• Wedding day was awkward… So much family nonsense. So much dysphoria.

Despite this, you two made it work. You dealt with the odd wedding shenanigans before settling into your hotel room for the night. You two had planned this weeks before. The two of you exchanged outfits and reenact the day. Exchanging vows and rings, the kiss, and dances. Watching her twirl around with a smile — a real smile, which was extremely rare from her — had to have been the prettiest thing you’d seen your entire life.

ok enough sappy shit

NSFT

• Matches her tie with her lingerie under her suit. She doesn’t leave too much for imagination. :3

• Calling her “Good girl” or “Pretty girl” will literally melt her in your hands like putty.

• She keeps a small dagger in her garter sometimes.

• Laying her over your lap and fingering her is the best thing she had ever felt. And she definitely will let you know, too. She’s a moaning mess, whimpering into the sheets under her. If you get an angle just right into her, she’ll cry and kick her feet against the mattress. She whined and cried so much that you were genuinely worried for her, so you slowed to a stop and asked if she was okay. From a side eye, she said if you stopped before she finished she’d kill you. She didn’t mean that literally. Or maybe she did… You weren’t going to find out the hard way.

• She has a slight preference for bottoming, but she does like to top, too. She loves to watch your face when her hands are squeezing your hips while she’s pounding you.

• After a long day, she comes home exhausted and frustrated and just needs to get it out. She changes into her favorite set of lingerie and lets you play with her, but it’s just not enough. Soon, she’s on top of you and thrusting into you.

On a particularly stressful day, she goes on a bit of a tangent about how disappointed she is that you can’t fuck her.

“I always have to do everything around here, hm? Yeah? Fuck, you're lucky you feel good around me."

You wanted to snap back and tell her that you don’t even need to fuck her, just fingering her will have her a drooling mess for you. But she’s going way too fast for you to even form a sentence. It mostly comes out as “Wh- Well, well you-“

She just tells you to be quiet, putting a hand over your mouth. She says “If I’m going to be fucking you, at least just shut up and take it.”

Afterwards, she feels a little guilty. She pulls you close and brushes your hair with her fingers, whispering a “Sorry.”

a/n: okay, well i had WAY too much fun with this and i still feel like i could write 1000 more words for her. sorry if this is a little messy, i was just kinda word dumping and didn’t really know how to fit everything together LMAO

[alpaca-clouds]

Stockholm Syndrome is a misogynist myth

Okay, fuck. I feel just inclined to this properly now.

Because I really need y'all to understand that Stockholm Syndrome isn't real and never was. And worse than that: It is rooted deeply in misogyny - and in Freud (who was originally an important psychologist, but is just fully unscientific). And most research that has been done on the topic, is remarkebly unscientific.

Now, for everyone who does not know: Stockholm Syndrome is named after an incident that happened in Stockholm Syndrome in 1973. The very short version of it:

Guy gets out of prison, goes into a bank with an automatic gun and takes hostages to ask for money, an escape vehicle, and for a pal of his to be released from prison.

Pal gets released from prison and joins him in the bank together with the hostages - 4 women.

Over 6 days the police tries to "free" the women and apprehend the men. This does eventually succeed.

Over the course of them trying to apprehend the abductors, the hostages begged them to just let them go. In the aftermath some of the hostages spoke out against the police with some stern language.

So, what happened here?

Well, the psychologist who assisted the police came up with this thing he called Stockholm Syndrome to explain the women's behavior.

But what did the women say?

Well, to make it short: During the attempts to apprehend the captors and "free" the women, the police several times actively endangered the women. Both directly (by using guns in the room the women were held in) and indirectly (by ignoring threats of the captors to kill one or multiple of the women if the police did not do something). By that the hostages did rightfully perceive the police as just another aggressor and not really interested in their safety.

But of course, because we do not criticize the police, Bejerot, the police psychologist attending, came up with a different explanation. (CW: misogyny)

To break it down into normal people speech, what he is saying is: "If there is like a really hot captor, the weak female brain will misinterpret the tension of the kidnapping as arousal and therefore love, because women are dumb."

This shows a lot in the research that has been done ever since.

Yes, "Stockholm Syndrome" has been applied to a select few mixed gender hostage situations, specifically a few skyjackings and an incident in Moscow. However, most of the research focuses on two main groups of victims:

women (specifically white, abled women)

survivors of CSA, especially CSA through relatives and authority figures

When it comes to the second group, I do share the general outlook that many psychological researchers hold criticizing the use of Stockholm Syndrome: "What? Kids do have a bond to their relatives or teachers? They have this bond even when they get harmed/raped by them? Really? NO SHIT!" Like, yeah. Most CSA happens in situations where the abusers already forms a bond with the child, and then uses the bond to abuse the child. Yes, duh. There is a bond there, and the bond is very confusing for the child. That is a basic aspect of it. It is not Stockholm Syndrome in any way that Stockholm Syndrome is described.

The other group is women. Originally the term Stockholm Syndrome was used to describe a few specific cases, like the Stockholm case, but there were some other cases throughout the 70s, 80s and early 90s that got attributed to Stockholm Syndrome, in which one or multiple white women got kidnapped and ended up siding with their captors to different degrees. (Meaning: At least one of the women committed terrorism together with her captors, while some of the other women were just empathetic to their captors like: "The system fucked them over.")

However, since the 90s the term has been watered down even more being used on female survivors of abusive relationships. In fact, most modern "research" on the topic focuses on those survivors of abusive relationships. Which makes sense, because those happen more often than hostage situations.

But let's look at this. We know that abusers in relationships usually try to form a bond with their victim first and manipulate the victim into that bond, if not into an outright emotional dependency. Meanwhile the entire basis for Stockholm Syndrome is, that the attachment between "hostage" and "captor" is somehow paradoxical. But it is not paradoxical when the victim was manipulated into this attachment!

Or to put it differently: Stockholm Syndrome in those situations actually blames the victim for having that attachment - rather than admitting that it is something they have knowingly been manipulated into! It frames the "weak women" as stupid for having those attachments she was manipulated into.

And there is another big point that is brought up in criticism of the concept of Stockholm Syndrome: If you took any soldier who went through military training, you could absolutely diagnose them with Stockholm Syndrome as well. Because the way that the supposed Syndrome has described can be seen within them too, as military training will usually use abuse tactics as well to break them down into good little killing machines. And yet they will have a good relationship most of the time towards the generals and officers at the army, who did that abuse to them. Yet, nobody will ever claim that soldiers suffer from Stockholm Syndrome.

There is however also the other big aspect of it: Everything that is described as Stockholm Syndrome has other diagnosises and actually well proofen behavioral background, that can explain it - in a better way than "weak women brains think being held captive is kinda hot".

For one: PTSD, and especially CPTSD after traumatic relationships (no matter whether they are romantic, familiar or something else), are known for the complicated feelings that the victim has to the abuser. The current theory is just, that especially if the person has had a positive relation to the abuser before the abuse (like in many cases of CSA and intimate partner violence), the brain in general just struggles with the change in the relationship. So the brain struggles to reconsile the different impressions of the abuser. That is just a very standard basis of PTSD.

And the other one is Appeasement, which very much is a survival mechanism found in all mammels including humans. Basically: A mammel in a dangerous situation with some sort of perpetrator might in some cases, when fighting and fleeing is not an option, try to appease the attacker. It will go on and be like: "Look, I can totally be useful to you if you don't kill me." And we know that humans do this too. And other than Stockholm Syndrome Appeasement as a mechanism can actually be proven to exist and has been proven time and time again in studies that pass peer-review (other than most stuff on Stockholm Syndrome).

All of this also is the reason why 50 years after Stockholm Syndrome was postulated it still very much is not a valid diagnosis in the ICD.

So, yeah. Really... I know Stockholm Syndrome is super popular in context of popculture/media discussions. Like, almost every female character in dark romance gets diagnoses with Stockholm Syndrome by fandom - and a variety of other characters do as well. Hence the Belle picture above.

Look, if you say "they have Stockholm Syndrome" and actually look into what Stockholm Syndrome suggest, you are saying: "Their stupid brains cannot distinguish between fear and love". And I don't think most of you want to suggest that about some of the characters you suggest it about.

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 4

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.1k

cw: misogynistic language, brief violence

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

masterlist

nathan blinked at you, almost as if he was waiting for your words to catch up with his brain.

“what did you say?” he asked in a dangerously calm voice. your bravery wavered the moment the words left your lips, resolve melting under his dead stare.

“ye heard her, she’s done with yer sorry ass,” johnny said, startling you from your staring contest with nathan. his friendly demeanor had shifted into something more menacing, the blue of his eyes seeming to ice over as he glared at nathan.

“i know what she said,” nathan practically hissed out, staring down johnny before whipping his attention back to you, “i want to hear you say it, because i don’t believe you.”

you started stuttering, finding yourself floundering under his withering glare. to be fair to nathan, this wasn’t the first time that you had tried to break up with him, and each time you had come running back, like he had some kind of evil curse on you. though, that wasn’t fair either, it wasn’t as if he was all bad, he helped you out of multiple depressive states and he never made you stay with him, necessarily.

“she’s not saying it again, once is enough” john said, stepping in front of you, half-blocking your view of nathan. you peaked around john’s frankly massive stature to look at your boyfriend, whose face had gone red in the face with rage.

“oh yeah? well, i’m not leaving this house until she says it.”

simon, who had been a silent observer, took this chance to step closer to you, “you try that and you’re getting tossed out on your ass.”

nathan looked between the three men, as if just now realizing the predicament he was in, then looked back at you, almost pleading.

“please, babe, don’t do this. i don’t know what kind of bullshit these men have been putting in your mind but i promise that i’m the best thing for you. i mean, look at all i’ve done for you, i’ve put up with you-“ nathan began saying, and you didn’t know if it was the fact that you had three huge men willing to beat him up for you or the fact that something inside you snapped but you cut him off.

“put up with me? put up with me? are you serious? do you know how many times i had to justify our relationship to my friends? my family? how you never have anything positive to say? how many times i’ve had to apologize when you were in the wrong? i’m sick of you and your excuses, so you want to hear it again? i’m breaking up with you, for good.” you huffed slightly at the end of your rant, feeling the weight of your relationship slipping off your shoulders.

nathan’s face seized up, twisting into something ugly and spitting, “fine. i knew you were a whore anyways, you know these men only want to help you because they want to fuck you, right? and that’s what you deserve, to be a worn out hole for men.”

that was all it took before your fist connected with his face. he went sprawling out onto the carpet, head connecting dully with the floor. the room went silent except for the sound of nathan’s quiet groans from the ground.

you never expected that punching someone in the face would make your hand hurt that bad, but there you were, sitting on the couch with a bag of peas on your knuckles.

after nathan had recovered as much as he could, john had grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him in the air like a mewling kitten, gotten close to his face and told him he had five minutes to pack up and get the hell out of his house.

you weren’t really sure where he went but he couldn’t have scrambled out of that house faster than if his ass was on fire. while john was handling your boyfriend, or, ex rather, johnny congratulated you on your punch, saying that he never wanted to get on your bad side. simon just grunted in agreement, patting you on the back before retrieving the frozen bag of peas that you were currently holding to your aching hand.

you realized that in the couple of hours that you had been here you had hurt both of your hands, and you laughed when wondering which body part would be next.

this startled john who had been sitting in the room with you, reading his book. “what’s wrong?” he asked, putting down his book and moving to get up.

you shook your head, “no, no, i’m okay, sorry. i was just.. never mind, i’m fine.”

he calmed down visibly at your words and settled back into his chair. after the whole debacle with nathan, soap and ghost decided to head home early, figuring you would need some space to process things, and they could just eat dinner at home, simon adding that johnny might be too much to handle after a breakup. this led to the two of them bickering as simon herded johnny out the door.

although you did miss their presence, you admitted to yourself that he was probably right. you kept running over your breakup with nathan, finding yourself tending back into your doormat tendencies before you shook yourself out of it and the cycle began again.

you were knocked out of your thoughts by john asking, “you hungry?” you hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten up from his chair, the book long abandoned on the sofa. you chewed the inside of your cheek as you shook your head.

he looked slightly worried, standing there for a moment before he spoke again, “okay, well, there’ll be a bowl of it in the fridge for you in case you want any.”

you nodded, “thank you, i’m sorry.”

that just made him look even more worried, “hey, don’t apologize, if you’re not hungry, you’re not hungry, nothing you can do about it.”

you swallowed back another apology and just nodded. he gave you one last look over, seemingly analyzing the state of you, then deciding that you were alright for the time being and turning on his heel back towards the kitchen.

you sat there on that couch until the peas had all but thawed out. your hand was still throbbing but the pain had faded to a dull ache, so for the first time in a couple of hours you moved from your spot and rose to your feet. you headed to the kitchen, peering around the corner first to see if john was still in there cleaning up, which thankfully, he was not.

you tiptoed over to the freezer and put the bag of peas back before shutting the freezer door gingerly, wincing at the loud noise it made.

“you don’t have to sneak around, you know?” you yelped and jumped slightly in the air before turning around to see john leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. his face had an annoyingly amused expression, seemingly taking joy in the fact that he had startled you.

“christ, you scared me,” you said, clutching your chest and leaning against the counter.

“sorry” he lied, “thought you knew i was there.”

you just glared at him, which ended up having the opposite effect you intended as he laughed and shook his head.

“i did mean what i said though, no sense in sneaking around, i already know you’re here,” he said, making you flush slightly as you realized how stupid you looked.

“yes, i know you know i’m here,” you sputtered out, finding that that’s the best comeback you could come up with at the moment.

he shrugged, leaning off the wall and uncrossing his arms as he walked closer to you until he was right in front of you. you swallowed thickly as you looked up at him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes.

“you’re blocking the fridge,” he said, and you felt your face heat yet again, of course that’s why he was standing in front of you like that, not any reason your mind was coming up with. you quickly moved out of the way, muttering a hasty apology. he opened the door and took out a bowl with a lid on it and motioned it out for you to take it, “you hungry yet?”

as you took the bowl from him your stomach audibly growled and you smiled sheepishly, “guess so.”

after insisting that you go sit down at the kitchen table, he heated up your soup on the stove, then placed the steaming bowl in front of you. you muttered out a soft ‘thank you’ and he smiled softly in return.

you picked up your spoon and then looked at him, “so.. are you gonna watch me eat?”

“i’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he said, looking down at you.

it was too bad that there was already a spoonful of the soup in your mouth because you choked indelicately at his words. taking a moment to catch your breath you shook your head, “i’d prefer if you didn’t watch me.”

he shrugged, “as you wish” and he left you to your dinner.

as soon as he left the room you put your head in your hands, “fuck, what is wrong with me? he just made you some dinner and you’re already blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl!” you whispered harshly to yourself. you scrubbed your hands down your face before shaking your thoughts away, resolving yourself to finish your dinner without any more stupid thoughts.

after you had finished, you washed out your bowl and put it on the drying rack because he didn’t have a dishwasher, something you found slightly egregious, but it did go with his whole homestead vibe.

you walked back into the living room and he was reading on the sofa again. your head cocked slightly in surprise when you realized he was wearing wire-rimmed reading glasses on the tip of his nose.

you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before but there they were, making him look like some kind of distinguished librarian.

he looked up at your small giggle, peering over the top of his glasses at you. “what’s so funny?”

you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling again as you answered, “i just.. wouldn’t think that you would wear glasses?”

he raised an eyebrow, taking them off and folding them with his chin, “and why is that?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, “i don’t know, you just seem so.. manly and.. i don’t know, i just never pictured you with glasses.”

“manly..” he repeated slowly, “i’m too manly to wear glasses?”

you shook your head, laughing slightly, “sorry, it’s dumb, it just made me laugh.”

he chuckled at you, “well, i’m an old man, and i need to see. usually i wear contacts but at night i take them out and wear my eyeglasses.”

“to be honest, now that i got over that initial shock, i think they suit you” you admitted.

“not really sure how to take that, but thank you” he said, mirth crinkling at the edges of eyes. it was silent for a moment, just the crackle of the fire john had lit in the fireplace filled the air.

“i’m.. i’m going to head to bed, if that’s alright with you,” you fiddled with your hands at chest height.

“you don’t have to ask permission to go to bed,” he laughed.

“i wasn’t asking permission,” you retorted, it was embarrassing how easily john could turn your words around on you, “i was just.. making sure there wasn’t anything else you needed.”

“from you? darling, i don’t need anything from you, alright? don’t you worry about me.”

there you went, blushing again, which made you utter out a quick “good night!” as you turned from him and headed up noisily up the creaking stairs.

after you finished your nighttime routine you heard john head up the stairs as well, his footsteps passing by your door and heading towards his room before you heard the door close softly. peeling your ear off the door, you paced backwards and then flopped on the bed, sighing loudly.

maybe nathan was right to be worried about you, it hadn’t even been a whole day after breaking up with him before you found yourself getting a schoolgirl crush on the farmer whose house you were crashing at.

as you slipped under the covers you tried to summon tears over ending your relationship with nathan but all you could think about as you drifted off to sleep was john standing in front of you, his gaze shifted downwards into yours.

a/n: alright! now i’m all caught up w how it was before i accidentally deleted my blog!!! now i actually have to write again.. lmao 😭

taglist:

@readgoods

@rip-cod-brainrot

@anticipayosbot

@cyaniderainfall

@theclassicvinyldragon

@watermelontidewater