#fucking pathetic piece of worthless shit

[catsingbad]

I did it

I fucking cut my arms after so long

god why the fuck am I like this why do I do this why can't I just be normal why can I just be fucking happy why do I keep cutting myself why am I so fucking selfish why do I even try why the fuck am I alive

[rolkstone]

if being "blacklisted" means that fewer antis come to my blog, then I'm very happy for that.

I will be myself on my own fucking blog. I will draw/write what I like. And I ALWAYS warn for shit, which is all anyone can reasonably ask.

if you seriously have a problem with dub con or non con I need you to ask yourself: what the fuck are you doing on my blog?

[fair-dinkum-mechanic]

I’m…

[vrystalius]

How would Sanemi react if Maeda made a uniform similar to Mitsuri's for Sanemi's girlfriend?

❕Sanemi’s reaction to your new uniform.

That perverted kakushi strikes again… how will Sanemi react?

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

(Sanemi is very angry, there’s just a paragraph of him cursing, you have a worse uniform than Mitsuri’s)

Sanemi was staring at your uniform you were wearing. Your chest was straining against the fabric and almost spilling out of the hole in the center. Your skirt barely covered your bottom, your panties peeking out ever so slightly. You felt incredibly uncomfortable and kept pulling your skirt down, trying to cover yourself up.

���What the fuck are you wearing?”

His voice was incredibly deep and eerily calm. Sanemi wasn’t yelling or insulting the kakushi that made this, wich was somehow even scarier than him being openly angry. You crossed your arms over your chest to cover up the your chest-hole, wich he’s been staring at. That made him look into your eyes.

“Maeda was his name? The kakushi?”

You nodded quietly. Sanemi took his cropped haori off and unbuttoned his sleeveless uniform, wrapping it around your shoulders and buttoning it back up. He sensed how uncomfortable you felt in your poor excuse of a uniform.

“I’ll take care of it. There’s hakama pants in my closet. Go change.”

Sanemi was still calm as he grabbed his katana and headed out, his footsteps heavy and fast. He was rushing past the other kakushi and hashira, intentionally bumping into a few of them to make them go out of his damn way. He has a kakushi to murder after all.

“Sh-Shinazugawa-sama…!-“

Maeda was already shaking once he saw the wind hashira standing in his doorway. He seemed to be absolutely fuming, gripping the handle of his katana. The kakushi already fell onto his knees and slammed his forehead onto the tatami as a gesture of deep apology. He wanted to start begging for his life, but Sanemi interrupted him before he even started.

“You worthless piece of shit. You’re absolute FILTH—lower than the dirt I scrape off my blade after shoving it down a fucking demon’s throat. The fact that you breathe the same fucking air as the other kakushi, WHO PUT THEIR OWN FUCKING LIVES IN DANGER TO SAVE OTHERS, SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER EVEN DREAM OF DOING, is a fucking insult to even the worst kakushi and the corps as a whole! You were too pathetic to become a slayer and save others and kill the scum of the earth, so instead YOU BECAME A FUCKING PIECE OF WORTHLESS SHIT.”

Sanemi was yelling his throat out, his hand trembling and itching to just use his sheathed katana to beat Maeda into a pile of broken bones.

“You’re worth NOTHING! Your mother would be fucking ashamed of you if she knew what a fucking pervert you are. I should be fucking killing you or feeding your worthless body to a fucking demon, even though YOU’RE PROBABLY NOT EVEN WORTH EATING, you fucking piece of shit.”

Sanemi stepped his foot onto his head, pushing him down. Maeda was shaking and sobbing, frantically apologising, but Sanemi just kept screaming at him. He took a deep breath at took his sheathed katana out of his belt, about to slam it against the kakushi’s back, before his arm got dragged out of the room and pulled into the hallway.

“Shinazugawa-sama, you should control your anger more. I’ll make sure to send a crow to Ubuyashiki-sama and make sure that this kakushi will be appropriately punished. Please let me handle this.”

Gyomei’s words were calming. He removed his arm from Sanemi’s bicep and returned to his usual gesture of prayer, rubbing his hands together. Sanemi was still shaking and seething in anger, itching to punch something. He quietly eyed Gyomei, then the kakushi

“You better make a normal fucking uniform. It will be done by tomorrow. I’ll be picking it up personally.

Sanemi grunted at him. Maeda wet himself while he was screaming at him, fearing for his dear life, shaking and sobbing, but frantically nodding ans apologising over and over. Gyomei started crying quietly.

“Your perverted actions are disrespecting the Demon Slayer Corps itself. You will soon learn your lesson through Master’s punishment.”

Sanemi glared at the kakushi one last time and then turned to Gyomei to mumble a quiet “thanks”. He stormed off, making his way back to you and his estate.

How dare he disrespect you like that? At least Sanemi now has an excuse to make you wear his clothes for even longer. That’s the only positive thing about this situation. He hopes that Kagaya will punish this excuse of an kakushi properly. If not, Sanemi’ll make sure he’ll never be able to make another uniform like this ever again.

💠

Sorry if this was underwhelming or not according to your liking, and sorry for randomly throwing Gyomei in. I hope you enjoyed anyway!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves!

My masterlist for the hashira

My masterlist for the demons

[iveriee]

tom riddle x sub ! clingy ! reader

( headcanons )

— no mention of reader's gender. tom is a toxic fucking bastard. reader is desperate. emotional manipulation. kind of fluffy. sexually explicit material in the nfsw section. oral. sadism. slight crack. aftercare (?). crumbs of sub ! tom. pulled this one out of my drafts aswell. NOT PROOFREAD !! can be read as a summarisation / alternate universe of escape.

— he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered, for you rarely let him get out of your sight — often clinging to him like a parasite, head buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his neck.

— at first, he finds it endearing how you pout whenever he leaves. you're like an accessory to him — a prized possession that can't live without him.

— you take his hand, oh-so-gently and kiss him every single day. you tell him everything about your day, from the tiniest fragments to entire events.

— and it's nice of you — it really is. but unfortunately it is getting tiring.

— it is getting tiring to listen to your rambles, he thinks as you go on a tangent about how you accidentally spilled ink over your benchmate and how they 'overeacted'.

— you're like a bug now.

— weak. needy. pathetic.

— and he has no time for people with such characteristics, he cannot afford to.

— so he begins to ignore you. slowly but surely he does.

— and you grow crazy.

— why is he ignoring you? what did you do even do? did you mess up?

— you try to talk to him but he doesn't pay any attention.

— fuck. fuck. fuck.

— you always mess things up. you should've never overstepped his boundaries. you should've never clung to him like a fucking parasite. you never should have.

— so you do something you never should have done. again.

— ( you'll never change, will you ? )

— you beg for forgiveness on your knees — tears streaming down your cheeks.

— and he smirks ever so slightly. a sort of sadistic delight jolts through him.

— he pats your head and tells you there's no need to act this way — and that you're being silly.

— this fucker, you think before nodding at his words.

— he fucking ignored you and now he's saying that you're being silly for complaining ?

— you decide to let it be and focus on the positive aspects: you have him back now.

— (..presumably.)

— and so it happens again — you hug him so tight that your arms begin to sore. you tell him about your day. (albeit less), you kiss his cheeks and you gawk at his intelligence and you're...happy.

— or are you?

— because beneath all that affection, you are hollow.

— he can't love you, no, — but he'll accept your affection. it strokes his ego, probably.

— and you don't mind as much as you thought you would.

* what if you try to make him jealous ? or cheat on him. ?

oh merlin. you're screwed. done for. ended. dead. because, (i) it's highly unlikely that he'll fall for your pretense and (ii) if he somehow does, he'll make sure to make that fucker's life a living hell and perhaps yours too. how dare you fucking betray him for some piece of worthless shit? how the fuck could you?

he wasted so much of his time on you. so much of his time that could've been utilised. and yet he spent it reassuring you of your worth, listening to your tangents, helping you, and being..yours. you were his, obviously, but even more surprisingly, he was, in some twisted way, yours too.

and now you cheated on him. after he took the time to be vulnerable with you, after he exposed his true colours to you, after you peeled back his cold exterior. (after he let you pepper kisses all over his face and boop his nose!)

he thought he was the cruel one. but it seems you are. and you're not just cruel, no, — you're a fucking monster. something he never thought he'd use to describe you. a word usually reserved for him, back at that stupid muggle orphanage.

* how would he react to you being thoughtful and remembering the tiniest things about him ?

he'd be flattered, really — it's his most common reaction to your shenanigans, after all. he does indeed love having his ego stroked and your dedication to him would surely do that. you remembered how he prefers using fountain quills ? how endearing. you remembered his favourite colour, his favourite subject, his boundaries, his interests—

still, it's adorable. how you take the time to memorize everything about him in that pretty little head of yours. but that's not all. let's say — you remembered his..... birthday. actually, fuck no. he hates his birthday and would probably give you a nasty glare before walking off.

there are certain things that he doesn't want you knowing, obviously and if you find out, he'll obliviate you or if he can't do that, he'd ghost you or threaten you, depending on what you know. ("love. how can you even say that I went to the girl's lavatory? you have no reason to think that. and no, i absolutely was not being a cree— what are you even on about?")

but still, I'd say his outlook would usually be positive.

* how would he react to you being jealous ?

— he would be, to say the least, amused. it would mean that you do indeed care about him. perhaps a bit too much...

— he taps his nails against his desk smugly as you pout in your classic fashion and yell at him. tom doesn't understand how you feel even a twinge of the hot, burning embarassment you are supposed to feel when acting so utterly ridiculous.

— when you finally stop ( and merlin it is after a long time when you do ) there might aswell be smoke puffing out of your nose.

— he takes your flushed cheeks and squishes them, hands digging into your flesh. when you groan out in protest, he shhs you as if you are a fucking child.

— "you're jealous." he whispers, his lips curling. and he knows he's right, by the way your eyes divert and your breathing turns ragged.

— "trust me, i am yours. why would you think that way? do you not trust me?" he then smoochs your forehead and FUCKING LEAVES !!!! the bastard leaves.

— he can't help but chuckle as he walks out. you are mortifying. ridiculous. stupid. and oh so naive. you are all of that indeed. and worse, even.

— alas, he cannot leave you. you are entertaining. overly so. ( and because he loves you but he would never admit that)

* what if you comfort him because of his past ? what if you just can't handle that the person you love had to suffer ?

he'd be... astonished. despite feigning displeasure, he would be, in somewhere deep in his heart, utterly and completely, — flattered. you. sweet you. hugging him — apologizing for something you were not even apart of. sniffling, hands softly trailing across his cheeks. you had always been affectionate, yes — but this? nobody had done this for him.

and for that, he leans into your touch; your sweet, honey-dripping kisses and words. he feels strange. a strange kind of heat creeps up his body and he doesn't know if he hates it or if he loves it. all he knows that you're the reason why the sudden warmth erupts in his stomach in the first place. you. you.

he's scared. so scared. scared that he might aswell peel back all the boundaries he's been keeping for long, held together by his sheer unwillingness to show a fleck of vulnerability. he doesn't want you thinking he's weak and even more, that...he loves you.

nfsw.

— oh shit.

— you are eager — really eager.

— and he doesn't know how to react to it.

— his drive really isn't all that high, so you have to be the one to initiate it.

— most of the time, you let him take the lead and do he wants to.

— he fucking LOVES teasing you in public places.

— he'll trail his fingers across your thighs in the midst of a class and tell you to be quiet when you whimper ever so slightly.

— and it's torturous — how he coaxes involuntary gasps out of you. how he does not give a flying fuck about your dignity.

— what can you do but sniffle and grip the table tightly, lips trembling? merlin, you want, no, need him. and there's a hot, gashing fire inside of you — all consuming, heavy and ravenous .

— he likes giving you oral too. maybe even more than he likes recieving it.

— he'd drag his tongue between your legs and you'd cry out his name and grab his hair even more tightly, all while he never breaks eye contact. you'd be the one sobbing and breathless, not him — despite him being on his knees.

— it somehow brings him satisfaction to know that you'll always be beneath him.

— he's not that great at aftercare — he doesn't know how to 'comfort' you, so he just holds you suffocatingly tight until you fall sleep.

* would he let you take control ?

not reeeeally ?? yes but also no. he'd let you be in charge occasionally, of course, but if you tried to convince him again, he'd merely chuckle and roll his eyes. ("no, love — i'm not letting you tie me up again. not after what you did. and don't try to manipulate me with those puppy eyes.")

but secretly, he would enjoy it. although he'd die rather than admit it. your eyes seem to light up whenever he says that you can take the lead and obviously.. you're quite enthusiastic and this enthusiasm translates...strangely during the act. he finds that he doesn't mind, closing his eyes and lying back for once. but it is so very mortifying to beg you for more.

[h5eavenly]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

nine -the devil and angel are entangled. warnings: smut and a bit of angst.

Masterlist ✶ prev ✶ next

You’re having a bad day. It did not necessarily start that way. In fact, your morning started out as one of the best in quite a while, from waking up ten minutes earlier than your alarm to the pleasant quietness that had swirled around in your apartment settling that same pleasant emotion to swim through every nook and cranny of your being.

And so, you find yourself going on a coffee run before heading to the company, a charming smile adorns your face that gets you a free blueberry muffin. It all falls perfectly into the pleasurable warm buzz in your chest. like pieces of a puzzle flumping into place. Crumbs of joy that had managed to find its way into you, separating the collective graying clouds of heartbreak you’ve been lying on for a couple of days.

But oh, you were so wrong. You should have known these clouds are gonna be replaced with a burning fire instead. One that you became too familiar with. It sets your soul ablaze every time you come face to face with the devil’s facet, clad in designer brands and doused in a seemingly uncanny aptitude for getting on your nerves.

Jake Sim.

“What the fuck is this?” he almost spits, a grimace clinging to his handsome features and a glare saturated with the same fire that’s burning inside of you.

“Coffee?” you reply, drily. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and the cup of coffee you handed to him ten seconds ago.

“It tastes like absolute shit. What kind of milk is this?” your hand twitches against your chest, you fight against an otherworldly urge to just smack him across the head and maybe pull on his perfectly styled hair that somehow manages to add grams of beauty to his already perfectly sculpted face –

Okay. Taking a deep breath in, you manage to trap in your wild thoughts for a mere second as you clear your throat.

“Califia. Isn’t that what you like?”

“This is not Califia.” he declares. His head swivels towards you with a deepening glare that somehow has your insides tying into knots. His eyes shouldn’t affect you this much but the dusted colors of dark brown and a light black on his lids only add sharpness to them. It has you pathetically kneeling into desire.

From behind him Sunoo sighs, abandoning his work on jake’s face and his brushes to walk away from the growing heated argument he knows is bound to happen. He has been a witness to it close to a hundred times by now.

“Call me when you’re done.” He calls to the both of you with a yawn. It falls on deafening ears as you attempt, fragilely so to glare back at Jake.

“it’s what I asked them for I don’t know what to tell you Jake.” Even his name leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, melting into something darker that you ignore.

“Well clearly someone is lying here.”

“it’s not like I can make the coffee myself.”

“Then don’t bring me something I didn’t ask for.”

“I’m just trying to be nice.”

“that’s not working very well for you, isn’t it bunny?” his tight brows and tongue poking his cheek shouldn’t also affect you, but it does. Perhaps that’s why it annoyed you, the fact that he was just so attractive yet so annoying. Pulling you apart with confusion. It all bleeds into frustration that bubbles up in your blood, so you huff. Refusing to accept defeat.

“I’ll get you a different one.”

You try to reach for his cup that he has deemed worthless, placed it on top of the table across from him. His hand circles your wrist before you do. His fingers are cold against your pulse, sending shivers down your spine and a pitiful gasp bubble at the back of your throat. Coming up with immense force and almost spills your deviant cravings right at jake’s face. You bite on your lower lip just in time to kill your embarrassment.

“Just get me a protein bar instead. I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore.” The lack of emotions in his tone is antithetical to the masses dancing in his eyes. growing darker in color, splashed with undeniable desire. Making itself so evident when he glances down at your bitten lips.

You swallow around nothing. Your eyes prancing between his as if it’s ever possible for fire to be added upon more fire. Like it could consume you whole and turn you into ashes that simply lays at the feet of the nation’s sweetheart. Another countless victim to the glistening of him. You don’t know who you should start throwing the blanket of blame on first. Your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you and left you to deal with despair on your own? Or perhaps it was the perpetrator who started this little game of mouse and cat? Translating itself into endless staring contests between the two of you and you always end up losing somehow.

It only got somehow rapidly worse over the week. Jake will peek at you in the most random of times. Between the fluttering of his lashes as he’s getting his face done for whatever upcoming programme or in the between the crowds of nameless people and amid the loads of work, you’re being crushed under. His eyes would find you one way or another. A thin line on the verge of breaking stays between you two. It’s in the lingering of his stare when you’re stuck in the van in the middle of unmoving traffic. He rests his chin in the heart of his palm and a wandering curiosity laces his gaze with a dazzling intensity. They’re piercings and more than anything clear.

Capturing you in place with the overwhelming knowledge that he knows exactly what he wants. It almost has you melting against the leather of the car seats. Like a flower loitering amongst many, almost blending in with everything else and hoping to be lucky enough to get picked. It’s pathetic. You grow hateful at it so quickly it should be alarming. It meshes into you taking it as a challenge, daring yourself not to be the first to be weakened and look away.

A smirk disperses across Jake’s lips each time with no fail and you stumble on your cold façade, swaying and drenched in a feeble coated loneliness. Yet with a coarse heart you take and take until you snapped.

It happened two days ago.

After a long day of work you find yourself in the all-too familiar elevator of the company. An Aching body and a hazy mind. Jake has his head thrown back against the wall behind him, his Prada sunglasses covering his eyes while Jay is next to him scrolling through his phone mindlessly. You bask in this rare tranquility for a few seconds before it’s interrupted by a huge group of staff members. Invading the cramped space. With a sigh and deflating shoulders, you move to make space. Squishing yourself into a corner as you hug yourself in futile attempts to make yourself appear smaller than you already are.

You’re surprised when another smaller group joins in as well leaving little to no room to breathe. Jake is somehow pushed right next to you and into your space. His scent breaks its way through to you before you feel him against your back, his chest pressed against you, and he uses his palm to rest on the wall right next to your head that is refusing to face him. Instead thanking God and the heavens above at the lack of mirrors in this specific elevator.

The last thing you want right now is catch your own reflection or even worse – Jake’s reflection.

The sudden proximity has your heart picking speed as you haven’t been this close to Jake before, his expensive perfume almost chokes you when someone pushes him again. Causing him to press you further against the wall. You’re starting to feel suffocated. It only ever becomes worse when you grow hyperaware of his chest raising and falling against your back, his breath fans against your exposed neck and you shiver.

“You good, bunny?” Jake murmurs into the back of your head, his other arm coming up to splay his hand flat against the wall, successfully caging you in. his voice is low yet soft. Softer than any other time he had spoken to you before, tenderly causing tingles to linger at the top of your spine.

Jake had never spoken to you gently before if he’s not blunt and cold. He is teasing you with harmless insults and perhaps that’s why his tone has specifically broke you that day. It blazed a trail down your being, nestling in the middle of your stomach and travelling down right to your core.

When was the last time someone had spoken to you this softly?

You can’t come up with a good enough answer. Not to the question swimming around in your fizzy mind or the one Jake threw at you. you’re flickering, wobbling on this thin line between you and your eyes are following the trail of veins on his hands. They look so strong that your brain melts and turns into mush, the only thought arising on top of everything is that he could fuck you right now and you would definitely let him.

Maybe that’s why when your lips separate a phantom of a whimper escapes you, ringing in Jake’s ears when you start squirming, pushing your lower half back against him in the process. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to get away or closer to him.

“What are you doing?” He groans, pushing further into you to stop your constant movement. The sound sends another unwanted shudder through your body.

“I can’t breathe.” You hang your head, disgrace marring your cheeks in red at the way you catch yourself in a lie. The way your eyes have glazed over, and there’s a haze turning your mind into a jumbled mess. forcing you into the lust you have been denying the existence of for days now.

You can’t breathe.

And it’s not because of this cage you found yourself trapped in, it’s because of him.

“we’re almost there.” His voice is almost like a distance dangled comfort, offered by some pitying god that you refuse to take despite your sinful thoughts and so you grow quiet, equally terrified at acknowledging the fact you want him.

You feel like a stumbling mess all the way home, with wobbly legs and a quivering heart that somehow always manages to make itself your worst enemy. You don’t allow yourself the pleasure to scour the thoughts swirling in your mind for answers. Instead, you mellow out into the tingling electricity that had lingered on your back. As if his scent seared itself onto you, you end up touching yourself in the middle of your bed. myriad of visions invades your mind. They’re mostly of Jake’s hands and intensive stare. A glorious fire that takes you so high up and only when you’re down do you realize;

Oh, you’re so fucked.

“yn,” jake’s annoyed voice pulls you right back into the current situation you’re in. he arches a brow at you and you blink, breaking yourself out of a daze.

Daydreaming about your boss who happens to be in front of you right now is a different kind of fucked. One that you didn’t have in your bingo card for this year.

“Right. Protein bar I’m on it.” You free your wrist from his grip easily, he falls back into his seat with suspicion mixed with irritation that has him biting on his lower lip. A habit that you grew to hate so quickly. It has you straightening your back and moving away in a stiff manner. As if you’re an alien that just learned how to walk on human ground.

“You okay?” Jay asks you when you manage to faceplant right into his chest as soon as you’re out of the room, a breath of a chuckle escapes him at your expression.

You only give him an equally stiff thumbs up, a blush so deeply red spreads across your cheeks like an exposure to all the corrupted fantasies that found your brain and made it their home. It’s so ridiculous you don’t even welcome them so why are they taking over you as if you are a dried up branch flourishing back to life with none other than your desire for Jake Sim out of all people.

You will not allow it.

You catch yourself in another lie when afternoon rolls around. Passing by you with a blur drenched in misfortunate mishaps. It all begins with an inexplainable discussion you end up in with one of the staff members, you don’t recognize her so you think she must be new. She saw you next to Jake earlier that morning and apparently thought it was funny to joke about you and him fucking and perhaps it hit way too close to him. Perhaps because it is something you’ve been thinking about for nights upon nights but it had angered you so much. To the point where you decide to give her a piece of your mind when you run into her in the bathroom.

Despite the smell of actual shit surrounding you, your anger doesn’t subside. In fact, it only grows bigger when the girl rolls her eyes at you and walks away in the middle of you talking. You screamed, hitting your hand against the wall.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken nail. A bandage that has a fucking bunny on it of all animals wrapped around your pinky and a scowl not nearly as cute plastered on your face. You are startled when the door of the dressing room opens, your stare flits across Jake’s figure that dawdles past you followed by Sunghoon. You sink further into the couch you’re sitting on. Annoyance pulling at you when your silence is interrupted.

“Oh, hey yn.” Sunghoon greets, notices your figure that is being drowned by a graying disappointment. Almost as deep as the lines forming between your brows.

“Hey,” you return drily.

Your eyes linger on Jake, and he catches them from across the room. They cut into you deeply, it has you splitting open, breaking like shattered glass and your only wish as you go down is to cut him back.

The longer your staring stretches the more you feel your blood started to bubble with something akin to anger. Running through your veins and becoming one with every other negative emotion that has nestled in you throughout the day. It makes up all of you, turning you into a hungry void that wants to swallow everything in sight. It only grows when you feel like you’re the only one who’s getting burned by this fire growing vastly fast between you two.

Jake’s façade never breaks, doused with indifference and feigned coldness. It’s in the way his pruriency for you is ferocious. Taking up every sense of his being, he finds it in the notes of your scent, vanilla, and cinnamon like you’ve stumbled out of a bakery. Sugary sweet and he’s never been a fan of dessert, yet he grows a sweet tooth just for the taste of you.

It’s in the way you’re infuriatingly confident. Carrying yourself with a loudness he’s sure he despises yet you manage to walk away with pockets full of his attention. The shape of your body capturing growing ounces of his interest day by day. Perhaps he’s just sexually frustrated, he hasn’t fucked anyone since Chaewon. And so, when he glances one too many times at your legs and when he’s staring at your breasts too long to be deemed discreet. He lets himself because he’s just taken by his sweeping frustration.

Because truth is he finds you insufferable, overly stubborn with a spark of determination in your gaze, yet his want is uninhibited, crawling to you with licks of temptation and he pretends to be stronger than any of it. That the way you laugh so loudly is enough exasperation for his lust to abate. He pretends that you being so pretty doesn’t matter as much, that the innocence clinging to the edges of your smile like you haven’t been tainted by the evil of the world is only a rarity he finds in you.

It pulls him right into you and yet away from all his logical thinking. He finds himself being thrown back and forth in the overwhelmingly profound walls of his brain.

He’s never met someone who irritates him as much as you do so how is it that he craves you this bad?

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

“yn can you hand me Jake’s shirt? It’s on the rack behind you.” Sunghoon speaks, words cutting into the pregnant silence that had spread around the room. It hangs heavy that you don’t ever hear him.

Your mind stolen with the wandering of your eyes, dipping to Jake’s hand clad in rings. They’re nothing sort of enticing and yet you find yourself transfixed, unable to process anything that’s going around you and unable to look away from him.

It’s tremendously inequitable how he looks like he ambled out of a painting carefully coming to life by a starstruck lover. It’s aggravating how he’s a sculptor’s approximation of a person. You’re sure he’s been sipping on angels’ tears in his past life because there’s no way for him to be real otherwise and even when the angel is walking towards you with so much force in his steps, his wings dripping with glittering gold covers the floor and a couple of broken hearts cling to his lashes, you hold your breath. It’s in the faint scars adoring the palm of his hands.

It’s so absurd how could it be possible for something so tarnished to hold onto so much beauty? How is he so captivatingly attractive?

When Jake leans over you, his body mere centimeters and your face is almost buried in his chest. Your heart pulses against your ribs, eyes widening in surprise.

“Focus bunny,” he says with a stern look in his eyes, pulling back and the shirt Sunghoon had asked for in his arms.

You’re unable to come up with something to say. Your mind a blank when Jake takes his shirt off. His skin comes to view like whiplash to your face and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle.

It has your cheeks heating up, you fumble with the end of your rope.

One slip, all it took was one slip and you’ve fallen.

“Can you leave us alone?” Jake’s voice breaks into your clouds of thoughts and you swallow. Standing up and with too much of shakiness in your legs, you head for the door.

“Not you bunny. Sunghoon leave.” The latter looks between you two, taking note of the tension that seems to follow you two. It’s fatuous yet Sunghoon complies.

“What’s with you?” He stands before you, arching a brow at you and you linger by the door. Toying with the hem of your skirt and avoiding his gaze. The same one that is dancing across your figure appetitively.

“What?” You don’t mean to snap at him, but you do and his face hardens enough to chip enamel.

“Don’t start giving me attitude now.”

You sigh, a breath of exhaustion as you try to regain some pieces of sanity that the lines on his abdomen stole. Your eyes lolling everywhere but him.

“Sorry I’m just having a bad day.”

“you’ve been having a bad day for the last two weeks?” he asks sarcastically, followed by a scoff that tugs at your anger so easily. Yet you keep quiet.

“Get your shit together yn. you’re only making this harder for everyone else.” He adds bitterly, scrutinizing your futile attempts at avoiding his eyes. maybe because you know he’s right that anger finally sinks its teeth in you, and you don’t resist it. Locking eyes with him with a newfound raising flame.

“It’s not like you’re making it any fucking easier for me.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“I’m not cussing at you.”

He pauses, his gaze flickers for a mere moment that it’s enough to have you slipping yet again. As if you have been standing on slippery glass all along, barely hanging on by his avoidance and a simple darkening of a shade is enough to weaken you. eluding the depths of your desire to the surface. The wall of tension builds alarmingly fast, it’s in the way Jake’s eyes follow your lips.

“My job isn’t to make anything easier for you. so, if you feel like it’s too much you can leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Your voice wavers slightly, mimicking the buckling of your knees.

“Then take it.” You wither away in silent indignation, so intense it feels seared on you and it only grows, peeking over the now mountain of tension. So leaden, it only intensifies when Jake’s takes slow steps towards you. A playful glint has taken its claim in his eyes, like he had won a contest you didn’t agree to be a part of. When he’s close enough he brings attention to your lips with his index finger.

“And take care of this mouth too yeah?” like splashes of wine your cheeks grow red in color and Jake’s lips tilt upwards in a troublesome smirk “behave bunny.” His words are meaningless, a passing empty thought he throws right at your face and when you sputter for a response. Swaying with shaking hands to gather your discomposure that he abandons as he walks past you.

It’s a blunder, one that will have you mourning your dignity right after and yet like a fool who stumbled upon a dazzling cup filled with sparkling poison you drink up. The devil and angel are entangled with sin when the words tumble out your lips;

“You take care of it then,” you turn to look at him and he looks back with the same vigor spilling from his eyes, like a river running down the route of lust.

“If you hate it this much then take care of it.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides, it stretches agonizingly slow that you almost feel an overly determined urge to melt onto the floor you’re standing on.

Your mind careens over your own words yet when Jake takes a tentative step towards you, his eyes search yours for crumbles – you hope are heavenly enough to have him breaking and you didn’t just offer yourself to refusal. You don’t evade it, instead you allow yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating tension.

No one has ever looked at you with this much want before and so you forget the ability to breath like tiny million sparkling stars are falling from the darkness of his eyes and right into in the lodge of your throat, so sharp and rigid and they’re bright, so bright it lights up your insides. Like lightness have found an abandoned cave –

And because Jake burns first, so frighteningly fast like melted candle wax. Your inside twist when his lips meet yours in desperation that emerges a gasp from you

- They fucking explode.

Your lips move against each other with famish, a thirst nestled so deep in both of you it can only be quenched by your kiss. His hand is on the curve of your jaw and yours form fists in the lines of his shirt. The pressure of his mouth upon yours renders your mind a foggy mess. So much so that when he moves you against the door, your back hitting it harshly you follow with no reluctance. Another pretty gasp escapes you at the impact and it gives his tongue access to your mouth.

A light moan falls from you, as the kiss deepens the bridges of your noses slide together and with a mind of their own his hands are like phantoms travelling over your body, palming your breasts over your shirt. your every sense becomes overwhelmed with his lips, his touch.

“Are you clean?” he pulls away briefly and you whine, eyes heavy lidded as they chase after his lips again. As if your cells need him to live as opposed to oxygen.

“What?”

“I’m going to fuck you so are you clean?”  you blink at him, the fog clearing up for a moment and you almost frown close enough to take offense if your underwear sticking to you with wetness isn’t growing annoying,

“I’m clean,” you murmur, almost doused in shame that you don’t get to linger in before he’s diving back into you. his lips finding yours with fervor and the air bleeds red with desire.

With his hands down your underwear, he lightly brushes to tease at the wetness. Lips quirking in something akin to egoistical pride. And your expression turns sour despite the incontrollable bucking of your hips against his unmoving fingers.

“How come you’re this wet already?” he’s imprinting the words upon your cheeks, leaning down to drop the same bruising kisses to the skin of your neck and collarbone, drawing a map of possible regrets.

“I’m horny and I haven’t been fucked in weeks what did you expect?” you sneer, and his chuckles vibrates against your neck.

When he goes back in to kiss you, you feel your cognitive facilities shut down. Your hands with a mind of their own travel across his body, in his hair like you’re running on a time ticking bomb, and you need to feel every inch of him before it explodes.

“Get on the couch.” He whispers against your lips.

“You don’t have enough stamina to do it standing up?” you tease, a playful quirk of your lips that has his eyes darkening. You’re not sure if it’s anger or lust.

“Unless you want me to leave you like this you better zip it.”

Once you’re on the couch, he clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, his hands work fast on freeing his cock from his slacks and your mouth is falling apart with an open silent whimper when he runs the head of his cock down your covered slit. You pant into his mouth, spit dripping down your chin and you arch into him with a new sense of need coloring your moans.

“Hurry,” you mumble against his lips, your embarrassment shows plainly on your face and Jake only smirks at you.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your skirt and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of fabric around you. he slides your panties down your legs just enough to have your pussy on display for him. Jake’s eyes are feral and heavy as it trails over your figure, so intensely deep it has you squirming in your place. An uncontrollable need crawls over you mixing in with your frustration.

“Are you gonna fuck me like you said you would or are you gonna keep staring at me?” you huff, feeling your patience thinning.

His lips quirk upwards in flickers close to mockery as he smooths his hands over your legs, tad too gentle for your liking but when he’s looking up at you it’s not close to tender but rather like you had fallen right into the devil’s lap.

Just like he had planned all along.

He slowly sinks into your wetness, chuckling at how quickly your mouth falls open with a silent moan. He grinds into you, his own eyes falling shut at how your walls lock his cock inside of you and you’re more than grateful for that. Not wanting to be witnessed with a stupefied look on your face.

You want to – try to keep quiet as if a challenge had presented itself to you and you remain nothing but a too stubborn of a flower, refusing to be picked especially not by Jake Sim of all people and so you bite down on your lower lip. You almost taste the sweetness of victory on your lips and then it’s pulled so brutally away from you when the head of his cock hits that gummy spot and you convulse. Head falling back with a strangled moan.

“F-fuck-“ you clench around him and your hand scrambles for purchase in his locks, the other digging into the couch, the throbbing pain of your pinky long forgotten.

He falls forwards with a soft laugh, so melodic and unexpected it has your stomach twisting into knots you aren’t sure are nerves or pleasure. He buries his face in your neck as he sloppily drives his hips deeper into you and his lips draw a lazy map of salvia rather than actual kisses on the skin of your neck. It leads him right to your lips; the eye contact you hate so much transpires again. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony, it’s absolutely sinful.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened bunny?” he whispers on top of your mouth, close enough to behold the want in your eyes. you attempt to glare at him and yet it melts right with your dignity with the touch of his fingers on your jaw, stopping you from looking away as he fucks into you harder “are you gonna thank me for taking care of it?” open mouthed kisses dot across your jawbone before lining his lips over yours, your chin in his hold as he thrusts into you.

When he leans back, you’re growing delirious, barely gripping into your remaining sanity when he smirks at you “come on say it.” He mumbles half-heartedly and you shake your head with a whimper, it echoes throughout his mind and ignites a bigger fire within. Curling into an ungodly soundtrack of sweaty bodies and the hankering to break you.

“Say thank you Jake for giving me your cock,” he mocks, his voice like devilish thorns against your skin and you push at his shoulder with a grunt.

“F-fuck you.” He doesn’t falter at the wavering of your voice, so debilitated compared to the way you glare at him and yet it turns him on even more.

He starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. It has your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth falling open with moans and whines- anything that could be good enough to indicate how he feels inside of you, how your cunt grips onto him in desperation for more, more, more.

You’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re struggling to breathe, struggling to control your sounds anymore. They spill over endlessly, and Jake knows they’ll be tattooed into his brain just like the first time he had heard music in his life. They will haunt him just like the clicks of a piano, so sweet, sugary sweet and addicting. He feels so good, inside of you, around you that tears start stinging in your eyes.

“Fuck- fuck Jake I’m coming oh- “you blabber.

“Shut the fuck up.” He presses his hand flat to your mouth, hushing you and pressing you further onto the couch and your eyes soften as you swallow, entranced by him. Your walls tighten around him and his tight grip falters but remains. His face is drenched in perspiration and so much want for you.

With the oxygen stolen from your lungs. Your breaths are quick and heaving and your body shakes in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaches quickly, building so intensely with the way his movements become jerky. Shooting your hand to your clit you work yourself up and further into the gates of iniquity. your whole body becomes taut, and you rock into your hands and chase after his cock. watching you melt under him is something Jake will be viciously proud of for a couple of days to come.

So much so that it’s almost an impossible challenge for him to pull out of you when his own high approaches dangerously overwhelming. With labored breaths, his eyes glued to your heaving figure. He spits on his hand and starts pumping his pulsating cock. His other hand scrambling for the tissues on the table and he sends himself over the edge. Your eyes are the only thing that he needs to fall.

As soon as the fog of lust clears up you feel a shift in the air. The gold and sparkles disappearing and washed away along with all the bent-up anger. Leaving behind nothing but a sliver of dullness and awkwardness that clings to your limbs. Jake moves from on top of you with a grimace. You watch him move to tidy himself up in almost blissful yet holding on by an ambiguous edge that tug at your heart painfully. When he looks at you, you don’t know why you almost feel like you want to disappear.

“Jay has been asking for you. Fix your hair before leaving I don’t want him knowing about this.”

Oh. Oh. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you that he doesn’t want anyone to know about this and you do realize how inappropriate all of this is and yet you still stumble into a bitter feeling. An old picture starts burning in your mind, the same one of you falling into desperate repetition of a prayer to someday be good enough to keep and not a sparkling piece of art that holds no actual value.

“I’m gonna leave first.” Jake speaks into your growing silence and the click of the door is the only indication of him leaving.

You don’t know how long you stay there on the couch. A couple of hundred emotions take over you, guilt, anger, regret, and shame. So much shame and all it took was one slip to throw you into the maze of agony so familiar yet so frigid and cold.

When you walk out of the room you run into Jay right away like a mockery of the devil you’re growing sick of playing with. There’s a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he studies you, one that you don’t get to see because you’re so busy looking anywhere else.

“You and Jake had a good talk? Sorted out the tension?”

“Yeah, all good.” You mumble almost inaudible as you push past him with a burning face.

Jake watches the interaction between you two with intense attention. His eyes betray him as they follow your figure almost religiously. and when Jay strolls to him with a shit-eating smile plastered across his face., Jake groans sinking down into his chair and hoping to somehow vanish.

“Don’t even fucking start,”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Jay retorts with a laugh.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

Once you’re one step in your apartment the sounds of all the too familiar trio have your shoulders deflating even further if possible. Despite your immense love for them the need for a quiet night after the hectic day you had is bigger. You can kiss it goodbye now.

“Hey,” Niki greets you as soon as your figure is in the living room, the other two sitting next to him on the couch turn from the tv to you as well and you force a smile upon your face despites the aching in your body,

“Hey guys,”

“Heeseung is helping me get to plat.” Jungwon tells you, eyes brimming with joy. It has your chest enveloping with warmth. a breath of fresh air like you’ve been choking all day. On your thoughts and on lingering stares

“Slay.” You ruffle his hair as you pass by him and into the kitchen, gravitating towards a glass of wine that you’re sure your soul needs.

“Are you okay?” Niki asks, eyes dancing across your features. Your mind clutters full of the earlier events and you down your glass of wine in a moment.

“I’m perfect.” You reply, pouring yourself another glass and running away from the concern lacing Niki’s eyes “I’m gonna take a bath and call it a day. Don’t trash my apartment.” You call out to them as you start heading towards your room.

“Without me?” Heeseung says from behind you, you ignore him and the only thing you hear before closing your door is the impact of Niki’s hand hitting his head and a loud ‘Ouch’ following.

The darkness of your room welcomes you, in a rather unexpected coldness that has you wondering what home really is. It’s all so stupid, and yet you wonder why you feel like a hole had opened right under you. staring at your glass of wine you feel like the air, not free but hallow.

One slip was all it took.

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[suguru-getos]

fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 1

warnings: abusive!suguru, mentions of cuts, mentions of physical abuse (choking, beating up, chaining), not for the faint-hearted. not beta'd. dead dove do not eat. summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through.

it has been in total of three days since you have been caged in the geto estate, at first, your anxiety and palpitations could not let you sleep, now? you're too exhausted to have those in the first place. it was simple, your parents were millionaires and owed geto some money, they decided not to go ahead with the deal and in turn, Miguel brought you here. in the confined walls of the estate where they crush you chokingly.

it's 3 am, your eyes wide awake in the bed that you're confined to, leg chained to the bedpost and the metallic bite of the chain brushing against your skin, bruisingly. your ankle is tied from the bedpost, you could walk around only to a certain extent. why? because you tried to escape and almost succeeded. now even when you try to sleep, it serves as a reminder of how you are a prisoner here. you hate this, all of this because the cult leader named geto thinks you're useless and a monkey. you don't even have an idea what that means...

---

"they have a daughter." miguel hums at suguru, crossing his arms and manspreading, sitting with geto in his office. the feline eyed man raised a brow, "is that so?" "Interesting..." he hums again, feet tapping on the floor. "Miguel, how does she look like?" his voice laced with curiosity echoed in the room which had the two of them contemplating future plans. "wait, i have a picture.."

and there you were, papped and captured from your morning errand, holding your coffee in your hand and wearing a white tank top, and some parachute pants. you were beautiful, suguru could almost call you perfect. if only... you were not a pathetic monkey. he hates them, and they have no place in his world, they will never be a part of his world...

"i just want to go home- i don't have any idea what you're talking about." another flashback rang through your mind. your first day here, comprising you begging and whimpering against the ropes of the chair you were tied to. "of course you don't, your parents do. your opinions are worthless in this anyway." geto looks at you with disgust, his eyes carry a strange emotion... he just, hated you for existing. nothing else. mere existence...

"fuckers like you who have no morals whatsoever have no other choice but to kidnap huh? fucking asshole!" you snarled, screaming out in frustration. you had no idea how your life could change so easily. a large hand wrapped around your throat the next instant, choking the life out of you with no relent. you struggled, eyes widening and feet kicking with wheezing gasps. "you see?" geto hums, leaning in against your ear and gravely whispering, "this is how easy it is for me to kill you, you're nothing. just a worthless piece of shit born to create curses in this world."

you couldn't do anything, your hands were tied up, you could only see the life you had, flash in front of your eyes before you passed out. suguru has no idea of his strength with a feeble human yet. he leans back, noticing the prominent bruising on your neck once your head leaned back, limp and lifeless. he yanked his hand away, putting some sanitizer on it. "pathetic." he hums, gritting his teeth. you were so weak... so fucking weak and still all you had to do was use that pathetic mouth didn't you?

geto left you there for the night, a very minuscule part of him feeling upset over the way he treated you, he would call himself an asshole for it if it was a sorcerer, but you weren't one. who cares if you're not a sorcerer anyways...

the next day, your eyes blinked awake, a hiss escaping you when you noticed you were still tied up, some of the blood circulation stopped because of the ropes tying your body to the chair. you wanted to scream, but your voice box hurts after yesterday. a grim reminder of what your kidnapper was truly capable of. you sniffled weakly, senses in fight or flight.

before your pitiful breakdown could even commence, manami opened the door, watching you with the same disgust her 'geto sama' carries... what is wrong with these people? truly? why do they look at you like you mean nothing. like you have done the greatest sin of the earth just by being born? "good morning, here's the thing. geto sama has informed your parents that you're under our custody, if they agree to give the money then you're safe to go, or we kill you." she shrugs. killing... is it that normal of a thing to say?

your eyes widened at the sheer panic of it, manami noticing the palpable fear in them and laughing, walking closer to you and untying you roughly; ignoring the scratches the rough rope surface would gift your skin. "take a shower." she yanked you by your hair, throwing you on the floor.

a loud whimper escapes you when your ribs collide with the solid marble, your body was still recovering from being tied up. what is wrong with these people? you're sure you have some visceral damage at this, your internal organs hurt with that throw, blinding pain in your sensitive scalp because of the hold in your hair. suck it up... you need to suck it up. "shouldn't you- treat me like a human at least? if my parents come back for me?" you grunt, using the aid of your palms to get up, a little dizzy.

manami cocks a hip out, "geto sama was right, you have a smart mouth for a monkey." she scoffs, walking outside with a hold on your nape. you stumble on the floor, how is this woman so strong? you couldn't understand why... you couldn't budge in her grip on you.

everything is hazy after, except you were force-fed hot soup for telling geto to kill himself during dinner, and not fed at all the next day, getting captured as well for running away and now a chain on your ankle.

you close your eyes, hugging yourself tightly. you need to be your own comfort. you have to be your own comfort. but its hard... the way they look at you, the way they treat you, everything is making you wish you were better off dead. why are your parents taking so long in the first place? what's wrong with them really?

your body is exhausted, unable to keep up with the constant stress. you do end up getting dazed to sleep. although its filled with nightmares. you're woken up to an echo of a voice.

"good morning, i'm sure these don't feel good." geto hums, and you jolt awake, leaning instinctively against the headboard. eyes glossed, fear dancing through your nerves. you don't respond. why is he here? "i didn't think you were that dumb to try to run yesterday." he clicks his tongue, looking at you. gosh you still have the popped lip from when manami hit you after getting caught. some of it is in your nose too. geto sighs, its the way you behave that he gets conflicted. he has always been an underdog supporter, now a bunch of powerful sorcerers were torturing a frail human just because of money...

maybe he should do you a favor and kill you instead. he could just tell your parents that they delayed in sending the sum of money and take the money anyway.He wants to stay true to his word but also wants to return you to them. another part of him... which he hates the most, almost wants to hug you and apologize. That part is the reason you're being treated this way.

"you're not answering me." he raises a brow, watching you shiver with fear and flinch at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, won't run again." you managed to say meekly; within three days of you being here, you look like a completely different person. your neck is bruised, your face is bruised, your hair is a mess, you are chained to a room. it is drastic for you, geto knows that. "hm, you know the consequences aren't too great, i would just listen to me if i were you." he adds on, watching your shoulders slump in defeat. my god were you beautiful, you were perfect in his eyes, someone he should have taken on dates if his life was normal. thanks to your disgusting kind, his life isn't normal.

"manami will come to you with breakfast." he stands up with that, and your heart races. you hate that woman and the way she treats you. you wouldn't say geto is any better but at least he isn't downright awful... so far. you nodded, getting up to go and shower at least. the clank of chains in your ankle echoes in the room, and it makes geto stand still for a moment. the flash of his little girls caged haunts in his eyes. isn't he doing something similar to you.

"y/n." he says your name, watching your eyes slowly dart towards him. "if you behave for a few days, the chain will be gone."

you don't respond to that, walking away. suguru bites his lip, he hates this feeling he's getting. a frog in his fucking throat and it's just been four days of you being here. he shouldn't deter from his thoughts like this anyway. you're a monkey, a useless monkey who should be killed as soon as possible.

manami comes in with breakfast and you could only manage a few bites despite not being able to eat properly. manami was not that mean today, all she said that she expected you dead but you're not yet. she says this everyday, nothing ordinary.

meanwhile, your parents have decided to actually manage the sum of money, but it will take time. they inform geto of the same. your mom pathetically sobbing for her little baby girl. "don't worry, she will be alive and kicking, i will keep my word. you have 10 days." suguru cuts the phone call after.

you... would be elated to hear this news wouldn't you? you should be! and so he walks towards your room, where you were laying on the mattress, leg bruised and bleeding. his eyes widen a little. what did you fucking do?

you had a big and a deep gash on your ankle, from the looks of it, you were trying to get free from the chains. what did you even use for this? his eyes land to the sharp enough culinary knife on your bedside table. you were crazy, any other monkey girl would simply behave and let time decide her freedom. why did you want to be so miserable?

"y/n." he mumbles your name again, and your eyes land on him, "geto" you respond, you didn't even carry any malice when you said your name. he walks towards you, getting the first aid from your cupboard and tending to your leg. "if you want an easy enough death, just ask me." he's sure you'd have another panic attack at this statement. you've been having one every day for the past four days after all.

"hm, gimme n' easy death then" you hummed, emotionless as ever. "cus i think m' parents don't give a shit anyway." a stray tear escapes through your eyes, followed by a soft hiccup of a choked sniffle. geto stays quiet at that. yesterday night, he had a dream of you smiling. or what he envisioned your smile would look like... it would surely make you look more beautiful than you already are. he's so sure of it.

"it's not like that, they did contact me and soon you'll be free." he smiled, the close-eyed feline curve that charms everyone fails to work on you. "i see." you hum, and geto trifled with the metallic cuffs on your ankle, gently putting them away. he can't really let you be this miserable. it was pathetic, it was making him pathetic.

"sorcerers exist to protect the weak." his own voice echoes which he preached satoru with. a soft sigh escaping him. he hates you. he hates what you do to him and he hates how you're having this effect on him without even trying. "yeah, a few more days of me tolerating a hooker-looking pest like you." he grits his teeth, getting up. you blinked, unsure what the sudden change in his demeanor signified. all you could do was brace. brace for another attack.

suguru watches you do so, and that sends a shiver down his spine. what's happening to him? he kills monkeys without remorse! maybe he should kill you, fuck your parents, fuck their money. fuck you.

"since you really like using the knife how about i teach you how to use it hm?" you blinked when he spits those words out, feet stomping and holding the knife up. before you could even lean away he has your wrist in his hold, hot tears streaming down your face with the way your heart thumped loud from your mouth. "please please- no no- what're you-" the pointed tip of the knife glides down your skin, and despite your gutteral, blood-curdling screams and pleas, geto only lets go of your hand when he's written the word 'MONKEY' in your arm. throwing the knife away and watching you bleed.

"i hate you, stupid monkeys." he walks away with that, while you succumb to the ache and pass out. it hurts, you could feel the blood trickling down the mattress before your body lulls you to sleep.

meanwhile, suguru shuts himself in his room, the daunting sound of the door shutting down loud and him covering his ears with tears streaming down his face. what's he even doing? why did he have to do that? oh he knows why. he wanted to prove a point that he doesn't feel anything when he hurts a monkey. that he relishes in it... but that didn't happen.

didn't happen at all...

just nine more days with you until suguru geto gets rid of you and proceeds with his mission to kill all non-sorcerers.

[feligayzed]

WRITING JUMPSCARE 💥💥💥

This was a short little drabble I scribbled up a HOT minute ago when I first saw the nefarious "destroy painter" screenshot, along with Zeal's comment about how Sebastian would kill you without thought....or something along those lines you get the idea

The first and only time I've written in 2nd person 😢 sorry you are NOT kissing the fish

Once again I don't do endings ENJOY

Wc: 582

You're walking down a hallway when a vent pops out of the wall. Subconsciously you're expecting a remark from Sebastian, beckoning you inside, but the soft-spoken words never come. The absence of the greeting unnerves you, but you're familiar, so you don't hesitate to duck inside the vent.

He's not there.

You're dumbfounded. He's always there, coiled in the corner of his shop, his findings neatly displayed along his flank. Always. You know of the mutant's obsession with data, and you've got quite a haul, so why-?

You're barely half a step inside when you're wrenched off your feet, a haggard gasp forcing its way from your lungs as you're slammed up into the wall with remarkable force.

"Let's ditch the formalities, yeah?"

Static swims in your vision and you can feel yourself fading, but a sharp backhand to the face jerks you back to reality. Instinctively you reach up to coddle the sting, but the stunned gears in your mind suddenly start churning. You're dangling. You're choking. Your hands instead fly to the massive fist straining around your neck, feet scrambling for purchase. The effort is futile.

Sebastian's face is inches from yours, jagged teeth bared in a snarl. Scales scrape against concrete as he repositions his long serpentine body, tail lashing dangerously behind him. His third hand twitches for the shotgun at his side, but he doesn't draw it. The space is suffocating. You're trapped.

"I know who you are, and you know what you did. Are you satisfied? Do you feel accomplished? Do you feel vindicated, that it was a righteous decision, that he deserved it, so why should you feel guilty?"

His voice is laced with venom, a gutteral growl rising in his chest. The pinprick of claws in your neck is hardly noticed as a primal fear jumpstarts your heart, blood pounding in your ears. What is this about? Who?? Your terrified mind races to put together the pieces, what the hell could have made him react like this. The fucking computer....??

You open your mouth to get a desperate word in, but his fist clenches tighter, cutting you off completely. His eyes flash cold and lethal, and you see now that there is no humanity left in his feral gaze. At least not for you.

"You're fucking pathetic. You, and all the other desperate pieces of shit they sent down here. I should slaughter you all. Right here, right now. I'm tired, Expendable. Sick and fucking tired of granting you all politeness. Why should I? Why should I, when all that you are is a disgusting, worthless, undeserving sack of shit they could easily get their greedy hands on.

You're nothing. No one will miss you. No one will wonder about you. No one will be here to clean up your bloody mess. I'm going to tear you apart, limb from fucking limb, and I'm going to relish it. All this talk of mercy, it's all bullshit. You're going to rot down here, and I'm going to revel in the knowledge."

In a jerking motion too fast to register, you're sent sprawling onto the dusty concrete floor. White hot pain bloomed down your sides, and distantly you knew your ribs had shattered. Unfortunately that was the least of your concerns. His bulk moved to block the vent you came in from, and you slumped in defeat as any hope of escape bled out through the punctures in your neck.

"Eat shit and die loser." The End!!

[drjae69]

REVENGE CASTRATION

You have no choice to breathe can’t hold your breath forever . Given in you’re bound to eventually one whiff and you’ll be on cloud fucking nine . I’m going to so enjoy castrating you piece of shit . If you ever THINK about cheating on me EVER again it will be your fucking penis next . This time is setting the example with your worthless pathetic excuses you call your testes as to teach you a lesson in loyalty . I can see them now calling out to be ripped out from of their scrotum and into the jar of nice formaldehyde . You’re lucky I’m putting you down for this you get that from me again and you won’t be so lucky … there go just let it happen my new Eunuch you’ll be better after this and maybe you’ll think twice before cheating on me again . I’m going to so enjoying this .

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♣♣♣ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 8

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ 7】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐕𝐒 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝟏)

╔══ ≪ ♥♦♥ ≫ ══╗

“See? You should have just kept quiet and done as you were told. The truth is, I actually like you. You’re quiet and obedient.”

When Big Baddie stood up, you realized he was twice your size.

So, you let the gems fall, teetering on the edge of the table as bait.

Sorry, Aventurine.

Meanwhile, you let your watch slid over your knuckle as a makeshift brass knuckle. There was no way you’d deal any real damage otherwise.

“I was just trying to save you, you know? I’m sure you also don’t know this, but that Avgin slave over there killed his owner.”

The moment he leaned in, eager to grab a hold of the gems, you swung your fist straight into his face!

“Of course I know, you piece of shit!

Otherwise, what kind of Aventurine’s fan were you?

“Uuoorrggh—!!”

As your fist connected with his nose, you felt the sharp impact reverberate through your knuckles, followed by a sudden, jarring crunch. Big Baddie took the punch square in the face and staggered backward. Soon, he lost his balance and fell, crashing to the ground in a heap.

Regret always came too late.

As you watched your wristwatch fell, shattering its glass on the floor, you realized you still loved it after all!! Also, your hand hurt like a bitch! Shit! Fuck! You could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Above all, you were furious.

Aventurine never even brought up his past, so who the fuck gave this guy the right to do so?!

You recalled how the pair of violet-cyan eyes looked so lifeless and devoid of emotion the moment his past was mentioned. It was clearly something difficult—something he preferred to keep private, and for obvious reasons.

If Aventurine were a male lead in a romance novel, it would have taken over 100 chapters and three different arcs before he revealed his past!! Even then, it would be only to the person he trusted most, someone he felt comfortable being vulnerable with!! That was just how delicate this was!!

And yet, and yet... this guy, heartlessly, in front of everyone...

In the past, Aventurine's entire family and clan were massacred by their enemies. Though he survived the ordeal, he was soon enslaved. Only God knows the depths of trauma and torment he suffered at their hands—enough to drive him to kill.

“—Hahahaha! Of course! Of course she doesn’t know! That's what you get for letting his looks fool you!”

“Do you know how hard I’ve been holding back my laugh?! I was wondering how to break the news this whole time! Hahahaha!”

Of course, taking a life was rarely, if ever, justified.

But that is not a reason to laugh at or shame him?! Especially not this bastard, who drove two innocent children to seek revenge!!

A single tear rolled down your cheek. Regret, anger, sorrow and pain washed over you all at once—mostly pain.

While shaking your stinging hand like crazy, you screamed at Big Baddie, “But so what—?! So what if he killed his master?!”

If you were beaten within an inch of your life every day and treated far worse than an animal, what would you do?

If you had nothing left to live for but to await your death at the hands of your enslaver, how would you respond?

“—I’d have done the same!!”

Your shoulders heaved up and down as you struggled to regain composure. All you knew was that you were ranting out of sheer rage.

“Shut up!!” Big Baddie stood up while covering his nose. He glowered at you like a beast, blood oozing out of his hands. “You're just a pathetic slut serving tables!! Do you really think I can't destroy you?! That worthless slave won't protect you from me!!”

“...!”

You instantly went quiet.

Seeing this, Big Baddie grinned with triumph, blood staining his gold and white teeth.

...That’s right.

Back when you were merely a third party, you could easily dismiss the whole incident with Big Baddie as "unreasonable." As much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t see it as that big of a deal.

Why didn’t the staff just skirt around the problem, make some excuses, and feign ignorance? Or, even better yet, fight back. Then, call the authority if things escalated. Easy-peasy.

Well, the reason, as it turned out, was plain and simple.

It was the same reason you didn’t pick a fight with every professor who imposed outrageous assignments or feedbacks on you. Or why you hadn’t shoved your middle finger down Erin’s—your actual manager at the restaurant you actually worked at—prissy throat yet.

Because you’d be a dropout and without a job. Now, you wouldn’t say that you knew how every single staff in Primavera felt, but you certainly wouldn’t survive without your job, let alone switch colleges.

Facing against Billy Burnett, the infamous iron-fisted loan-shark, the stakes were even higher. One wrong move, and your entire life could be in jeopardy.

“Need I remind you what kind of authority they have? A single word from them could ruin the lives of many. I wouldn’t care if you’re the only one affected, but I also have something to protect, so stay in your lane.”

You recalled Marius’ words.

You wouldn’t blame him either—or anyone, for that matter. Everyone had their own circumstances. It was called “picking your battles.”

Which was why, only you could do this.

If it wasn’t you—who would?

You grinned.

Thanks for the reminder, Big Baddie.

Thus, as the waiter of the high-end nightclub Primavera, you shot back, “Watch your language! Aventurine is one of our most valued customers, and we do not tolerate any form of abuse or mistreatment toward him!”

“Wha—?!”

Big Baddie had a dumb look on his face. Perhaps this was the first time someone had called him out so boldly.

Also, you weren’t even lying!! Who else could singlehandedly quadruple the profit of a luxurious nightclub?! Calling him Primavera Jesus would be more fitting! Obviously, the staff would want to cling to him—especially after what you were about to do in their uniform, using their name!

While Big Baddie was still flabbergasted, you continued.

“—Given that this behavior has persisted, we are left with no choice but to ask you to leave and ban you from returning!”

After enduring his tyranny for so long, those were likely the words the staff had been dying to say, but couldn’t.

Then, your gaze briefly landed on your crisp, black uniform. Her uniform.

Of course, you wouldn’t pretend to understand how Judith felt either.

Still, when everyone else was too terrified or stunned to do anything, her manager took a punch in the face for her. If you were her, you’d be happy, knowing that most managers out there wouldn’t do even half as much—and at the same time, sad. But above all, angry.

So, you thought of saying this for her.

“—Also, that’s for punching my manager, asshole!!!”

Yes, only you, or specifically, Aschenputtel, could do this.

Aschenputtel, who was destined to lost her job either way. Aschenputtel, who had neither family nor friends, and would disappear past midnight.

Hence, you, Aschenputtel, decided—

—I’m taking you down with me, Big Baddie.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９】

I realized that at the rate I was doing it before, the update will only come once a month, or even 2 months in case anything happened. ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა I don't want to keep you guys hanging for that long. So I decided to post it as soon as a part is finished. Do tell me if any of you prefer that I just finish it as a whole before updating :D

[weebsinstash]

Oooh Val's uses his coat wings to hide reader away whenever he gets jealous because someone looked at you.

Do you think he would do that to like some of his workers to make the reader jealous?

GOD this immediately makes me think of him doing something EVEN WORSE ACTUALLY

To make him a little more unhinged and sadistic here, imagine a sadistic yan Valentino who will literally bully you to fucking tears and hurt your feelings on purpose because it 'proves you care about him'.

You and him have an actually sweet mutually respectful moment and he says something specific to you... calls you a new nickname or gives you a really specific compliment, and, it also just really makes you all warm and fuzzy. Or there's a specific way he likes to hold you or nonsexually touch you.

Then you "cross him", you two are arguing, there's several days of you basically all but completely ignoring him, and Val's suddenly making sure to deliberately do that same action or pet name or phrase to someone else RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU and I'm talking you're like, IMMEDIATELY SNAPPING YOUR HEAD IN HIS DIRECTION, and he's already fucking looking at you with this shit eating grin to look at your offended, upset expression

Like sorry can you even fucking imagine he tells you something that makes you feel really special in private and he KNOWS THAT and he compliments someone else the exact same way and you're looking at him literally IN TEARS and he's ENJOYING THAT HE'S MAKING YOU CRY

Just.... setting the scene.... you and him have been drinking, smoking, doing your drugs of choice, whatever, and... it's late at night... you guys are completely alone... and you're just... talking. Talking about your lives, about being in Hell, about experiences you've had, and then Valentino just kinda pokes your arm all coyly smirking/flirting like "It's weird but I feel like I can talk to you like we've known each other forever, like i actually care what you have to say and shit"

And then later on he gets pissed off at you (and it's something stupid like he gets jealous of you talking/bonding with another person) and he says that to some bitch that he like BARELY KNOWS, I would be GASPING CRYING WANTING TO THROW THINGS AT HIM like he could have you sitting there borderline suicidal and he's GRINING WITH GLEE, internally cheering "awwww they DO care about me 🥰 they care what i think about them and they're upset cause they think i dont like them 🥰" like some genuinely evil shit

Like lmao I've talked about "what if Reader became the fourth Vee" but I haven't mentioned "what if when Vox goes to calm down Valentino he also has to go to YOUR tower and comfort YOU because the reason you're both upset is YOU WERE ARGUING" (and maybe Vox takes your side more often because, you're his baby duh and you're newer and you probably have a better head on your shoulders than Val)

Vox is going upstairs, finding Velvette, "so, what kind of mess do I need to help clean up today?"

"The two of them started going at it right inside of my studio! Valentino said some NONSENSE to one of my models and then Vegas went BERSERK! Tore that unlucky bitch to pieces and then launched right at that lush, RIPS OUT a patch of his hair, then HE goes into A RAGE, they were both drunk and THROWING THINGS AT EACH OTHER--"

Like just the mental image of Vox having this dichotomy of, dealing with Valentino having his drunken rages where he wants to resort straight to violence, he's screaming, throwing things, and then Vox goes to YOUR section of the place and you're opposite end of the spectrum, crying, I mean ALSO angry as fuck but in a "Val makes me feel worthless I hate him I hate everyone" kind of way. Vox finds Valentino drinking and wanting to hurt other people and lashing out at his employees and breaking shit, and then he finds you like facedown on a couch in a cloud of smoke and booze, crying about what a pathetic worm you are, why do they even keep you here, you don't belong here, Vox probably hates you too- WHICH HE IMMEDIATELY CORRECTS YOU ON BTW

Vox is out here having to baby and infantilize and SCOLD Valentino to talk him down to a normal level and then to you he's like GENUINELY like "nooooo oh my gosh are you kidding, dont say THAT, you're so cool though 🥺 Val said WHAT, noooOoooo, that's fucked up, I'm sorry, I'll talk to him. You wanna eat cereal and watch anime? I developed a new gacha game for you to play, you wanna play while i watch?" like forreal the favorite is so obvious fkcnckcnfb which is also why it hurts extra hard when VOX loses his cool with YOU because who are you gonna run to, Val or Velvette? Oh you mean the catty narcissistic pimp or the even cattier bully of an influencer? I'd sooner double die.

[bonezone44]

Weighted Vest (18+)

Bisexual!Frankie "Catfish" Morales x nb!afab!Reader

word count: 864

Summary: You ask Frankie to "fuck you like men fuck" and you both get more than you bargained for.

Read The Tags: Consensual Non-Consent. rough P-in-v, gender play, male stereoypes, heavy degradation. no orgasm. Allusions to past sexual assault (on Frankie, not by Frankie. And not involving Reader). Angst. Reader has hair long enough to be pulled.

A/N: this is my first time really writing Frankie. this kinda came outta nowhere.

"Goddamn, dude. I been thinkin 'bout this dick all day," you grouse. Your pants are gone and you lower yourself onto Frankie's cock.

He hisses and grabs at your breasts through your shirt. "Yeah, man. You like this cock?" He says through gritted teeth. "You like takin it up this boy pussy you got?" He thrusts upward.

You moan. "Fuck yeah, Frankie. Fuck yeah, I do." His lips are tight and he looks angry while you ride him. You wanna let go and collapse into him. You want his mouth on yours. You wanna taste his tongue. You lean forward to kiss him and he pulls you back by the hair.

"Men don't kiss when they fuck," he grunts. He lets go and his fingers pinch and twist at your nipples through your shirt. He tugs hard.

"They don't?" You ask, even though you know that isn't true at all. You can barely keep your eyes open.

"Nope," he says matter-of-factly, shaking his head. "They just fuck."

"Fuck, Frankie," you moan. "C'mon, man. You gotta give me something!"

"I don't gotta give you shit!" He says. "You're lucky I'm fuckin you at all."

You scoff. "C'mon, dude. If you didn't wanna fuck me, you wouldn't be fuckin me."

"I'm doin you a fuckin favor, asshole--"

"Bitch, I'm doin you a favor by givin you a hole to fuck!"

"You asked me to show you how men fuck and I'm fuckin showin you."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not seein much of a difference."

"Alright, fine," he spits. "How's this?" He tosses you off his dick and throws you back on the bed. Before you can do much, he flips your body over, and roughly pulls both your arms back. He brings your wrists together, but one falls as he puts his dick back inside you. He grabs it again and starts pounding into you, his hips slapping loudly against your ass. He hits a spot inside you that makes you shout. "No," he chides. "You keep that mouth shut!" He grabs the nearest thing he can find, which is his own underwear, and shoves it in your mouth. "You keep quiet and you take it! No matter how much it hurts!" He knows you well enough to know those were cries of pleasure. "You're lucky I don't stick it in your ass right now! Split you in half and make you bleed everywhere like a little bitch!" He huffs and pants as he drives into you again and again. "That's how men do it. They don't give a fuck. They use you however the fuck they want if you're too fuckin weak and stupid to fight 'em off!" He growls from deep in his gut. "Guess that's you, huh? Weak little bitch! Fuckin pathetic for lettin me do this to ya, huh? Huh?!"

Your forehead is pressed into the mattress. You don't know what the right answer is. You don't know if there is one. You turn your head to the side and nod.

"Jesus christ! You're not even gonna fight back? You're just gonna admit it? Have some fuckin self-respect, ya fuckin idiot!" He grunts loudly. "Goddamn! Who fuckin raised you, boy? Huh? Who fuckin raised a piece uh shit like you? You're lucky I don't do worse to ya!" His thrusts begin to falter, but his shouts get louder. "You are so fuckin worthless! You fuckin deserve this! You fuckin deserve it!"

Frankie pulls out and you open your eyes, glancing back over your shoulder. His face is red and his lips are parted. His eyes dance around and he blinks rapidly. You pull the underwear from your mouth and turn around.

"Are you okay?"

He flinches and holds his palm up with his eyes closed. His chest heaves with each breath. You wait patiently for his eyes to open again. It takes longer than you anticipated but you're patient. It's Frankie after all. You had no idea this request of yours would trigger him. You don't think he realized it either.

Once his eyes do open again, he stares down at the bed with his hands on his knees. He chews his lips. His body trembles and you see him tense against it.

"Will you hold me?" You ask because you know he never will--he'll never ask you to hold him. He never asks you for anything. Not really. Not like this.

His eyes meet yours briefly before they find the sheets again. But he nods. "Yeah," he mutters out with a hot breath.

You lie down and he falls in place behind you. He wraps his arms around your torso and rests one leg over your own. You know he'll never talk about it. But that's okay. It's not your pain to handle. It's not your history to digest. You just hope that maybe this is enough. Maybe it's enough that you stuck around. Maybe a part of him knew this was the only way it could come out. You grab one of his hands into your own and interlock your fingers. "Thank you for doin that for me."

He sighs against the back of your head. "'S nothin," he says and pulls you closer.

----

[crippled-peeper]

“Brain machine interfacing is only for right wing weirdos who love elon musk lol!!!!!!! Im a cripple too and I’m so smart and better than y’all!!!!!!!” brain machine interfacing gives people the ability to hold a fork again. brain machine interfacing gives people the ability to stand up. brain machine interfacing is a revolutionary technology that gives severely disabled people their independence and abilities back

Calling all people with medical technology inside/attached to them “right wing freaks!!!” is not the leftist hot take you think it is. you are literally a piece of shit and you should apologize to people with spinal cord injuries and degenerative brain disorders for forcing us to read your pathetic ass ableist misinfo. your “takes” are fucking worthless and you should be ashamed of yourself

[jtl-fics]

FOUR HORSEMEN PLS I BEG YOU I CRAVE MORE

10/2/24 WIP Wednesday (Closed) | Four Horsemen

“No buts. Your parents are and always have been real pieces of shit. The only thing that they’ve ever managed to do in their entire pathetic worthless miserable lives was fuck through a sheet and bring you into the world.” Andrew’s so angry that it is managing to suppress his nausea.

There’s a mixture of a laugh and a sob, “Andrew don’t talk about straight sex during the lead up to my wedding.” Nicky manages and the next noise is more laugh than sob, “Especially not my parents having straight sex.”

“They don’t deserve that title.”

“Heterosexual?”

“Your parents.”

[chuckfinnlypwrmadness]

OK, I’ve heard this enough times and it seems like everybody on here has a misunderstanding about tweakers partying with other tweakers.

Hooking up with someone; that is where two people meet with the soul intention of fucking each other and having a good time doing that with each other. Neither one of them is paying the other. If there’s money involved, you’re a hooker. Nobody wants to hire a hooker to hook up with.

PNP; means party and play, not play & pay. When two people PNP normally the guy will rent a motel room for one to three nights, by the party favors and pretty much pay for the whole weekend. I myself or give the lady that I spent the weekend with a little sack to take with her so she doesn’t have to come down so hard. I’m not going to pay someone to show up to do that with me. That’s not how that works. You talk to somebody online or you’ve already know them you meet at the motel room I don’t pay for your gas to get there. I don’t have to cash app you money because you’re a broke ass bum you can’t drive across town probably cause of course you don’t live nowhere near where I’m at. And the funny thing is, y’all try to run that game all the time and it’s bullshit. I need gas money. I need a card all that dumb shit everybody’s hip to it. Meet someone across town at a motel walk in the door. Take all your clothes off. Get in the shower come out. Sit on the bed. Sit next to each other, talk get high fool around kiss watch TV whatever play game listen to music. But in no time does anybody exchange money? Nobody gets paid to be there. Another thing is who wants to send somebody some money so they can watch them on a video blowing clouds? That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve heard in a long time. I assure you there are plenty of women out here that you don’t have to pay at all to party with.

I have had girls that I was going to PNP with who did not wish to have sex and I told them that was fine. We don’t have to. I’ll pay for half of everything you pay for the other half the stuff, the motel, blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah. And they were like why do I have to pay because usually when you PNP with someone whoever’s paying decides on what the activities will be most guys wanna have sex or fool around or whatever and if you don’t wanna do that then we can split the bill right in half. Anyways, I just wanted to clarify that if you’re on here trying to meet someone and hook up or PNP or blow clouds and you want to do it over a video chat or they have to send you money you’re fucking the game up and 90% of these girls on here talking about, I’ll deliver to you  and fuck you they are full of shit. I’m not gonna buy shit online so just give it up. I’m not going to send you money for gas or your sisters kids to watch a video or whatever that other dumb shit y’all talk about. I’m not doing it. Don’t ask me. I have women out here that want to party and play just to party and play and they want to hook up because they wanna get fucked and they are not asking for any money! Something else gentlemen, the majority of these girls on here are not girls. There’s some freaking Asian in a treehouse trying to scam you or some Indian in India trying to get your money. They’ll never show up. You lose all your shit. They are worthless  spineless pieces of shit ! They’re not real.

If you want to meet in PNP or hook up or SK8 and you don’t require any kind of money to get you to show up to have this fun then come on. If you’re broke ass needs money get a job suck dick do something quit trying to cheat everybody on here out of their money. It’s pathetic!!

ONE OTHER THING. PEOPLE WHO GET SPUN OUT EVERY DAY PEOPLE WHO DO THIS LIFESTYLE AND LIVE IT THEY CAN TELL BY LOOKING AT YOU IF YOU REALLY GET SPUN OUT EVERY DAY OR YOU’RE DOING ANYTHING A LOT OF Y’ALL SAY Y’ALL WANNA DO ALL THESE THINGS BUT Y’ALL DON’T LOOK LIKE A TRUE PLAYER!

SOMEONE THAT GEEKS EVERY DAY AND LOOK AT A WOMAN TELL IF SHE’S REALLY GEEKING IF SHE GEEKS AT ALL. SO JUST KNOW THAT YOU’RE NOT FOOLING NOBODY!

⚡️⚡️

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

Npd culture is getting fed up and abusing your abuser back. Does it make you feel powerful to yell? To insult me? How pathetic. Two can play at this game. I will destroy your self esteem just as you destroyed mine. Of course, you’ll play the victim to everyone around. You wanna be a fucking victim? I’ll MAKE YOU a fucking victim, worthless piece of SHIT. Everyone around us will treat me like I’m the villain but at least I don’t fucking pick on children. I’m tired of hiding my utter hatred, of groveling to avoid your abuse. Welcome to hell, bitch

.