#happy pride (tormenting you all)

[noisetwister]

"I'll kill you... I'll kill you... I'll kill you..."

an ms paint asuka for you all. click for high res!

[geneviveleocardius]

silco and his way of loving you

my man

silco is a man of plans and ambition, but when it comes to you, everything else takes a backseat. you are his exception, the one person he trusts entirely.

if anyone threatens you, silco’s rage is terrifying. he’s a man who built a criminal empire; he knows how to destroy enemies utterly and ruthlessly. for you, he wouldn’t hesitate to dismantle all of it.

silco ensures your safety with meticulous planning. from hidden bodyguards to secure safehouses, you might not even realize how many layers of protection he’s arranged for you.

silco isn’t the type to shower you with grand romantic gestures. instead, his love is shown in the little things: making sure you have everything you need, fixing things before you even know there’s a problem, and quietly watching over you when you’re vulnerable.

silco is not overly physical, but when you’re alone, he’ll let his guard down. a hand on your lower back, fingers brushing against yours, or his thumb tracing your jaw when he cups your face—these moments mean everything coming from him.

at night, when the stress of the day fades, he’ll let his mask slip. silco holds you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he whispers plans and dreams only meant for you to hear.

his sharp tongue spares no one, not even you, but there’s an unmistakable fondness in his teasing. he loves when you fire back, and the smirk that plays on his lips tells you he’s impressed by your wit.

silco has a knack for giving you nicknames that sound mocking but secretly melt his heart. whether it’s “darling,” “my torment,” or “trouble,” there’s always a hint of affection in his tone.

silco is a master of manipulation, but with you, there’s no need for pretense. you see the parts of him no one else does: the man who doubts, aches, and dreams. in you, he’s found someone he can truly rely on.

when the world feels like it’s pulling him into the abyss, you’re the one who keeps him grounded. he might be zaun’s eye, but you’re his anchor.

you’re the only person who sees the rare moments of guilt or pain flicker across his face. when his walls come down, he doesn’t speak much, but the way he clings to you says everything.

silco has no issue getting his hands dirty, but when it comes to you, he’ll even set aside his pride if it means making you happy. whether it’s something as small as an apology or something as monumental as changing his plans, he’ll do it for you.

silco is fiercely possessive, but he trusts you enough not to smother you. still, the way his sharp gaze lingers on anyone who gets too close is enough to send most people running.

silco may not be one for flowery words, but when he tells you, “you’re mine,” it’s a vow that carries more weight than any traditional declaration of love.

being loved by silco means being the most precious thing in a dangerous world. his love is intense, consuming, and unyielding—but with it comes a promise that you’ll never face anything alone.

silco’s love is quiet but intense, like a slow-burning fire. he isn’t the type to shout his feelings or wear his heart on his sleeve, but everything he does is for you. he shows his love through actions—ensuring your comfort, solving your problems before you even know they exist, and always putting you first.

he respects your independence but always watches out for you from the shadows. his way of saying “i love you” is often subtle: a rare, vulnerable gaze held a moment too long, or a quiet “stay safe” that carries more weight than any grand declaration.

silco’s kisses are measured and intense, like he’s savoring every second. he doesn’t rush, letting the moment linger as if nothing else exists.

in private moments of tenderness, he’ll press a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of silently promising to protect you.

he loves to tease you with playful, possessive nips during a kiss, a reminder of the passion simmering beneath his calm exterior.

he has a habit of kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear when he wants to make you melt, his voice low as he murmurs something teasing or affectionate.

silco thrives on making your life easier. whether it’s handling a problem you didn’t want to deal with or silently taking care of something before you even notice it, he shows his love through his competence and reliability.

though his life is busy and chaotic, he always carves out time for you. these moments are sacred to him, whether it’s sitting in comfortable silence or talking late into the night.

while he isn’t overly expressive, silco’s words, when he chooses to speak, carry immense weight. he knows exactly how to reassure you, lift you up, or show his admiration with sharp, carefully chosen phrases.

he loves the way your hands feel in his—smaller, softer, yet steady. he’ll hold your hand under the table during tense meetings or brush his fingers over yours in quiet moments, finding comfort in the connection.

silco is intense but never reckless. he approaches intimacy with the same deliberate care he applies to everything else, making sure you feel adored and completely satisfied.

he knows every inch of your body and every reaction you have. nothing escapes his notice, and he takes his time learning exactly what makes you feel good.

silco likes to take control, but he’s not harsh—he’s commanding, confident, and endlessly patient. he makes you feel safe while igniting a fire you didn’t know existed.

intimacy is one of the few times he allows himself to be completely unguarded with you. his whispered confessions and soft touches reveal a man who trusts you in ways he trusts no one else.

silco loves to keep you on your toes with sly comments and sarcastic humor. “oh, you think you can outsmart me? charming, but unlikely,” he’ll say with a smirk when you challenge him.

even after all this time, the way he looks at you can make your heart race. his sharp, calculating gaze softens into something warmer, more intimate, when his eyes meet yours across a crowded room.

a hand on the small of your back, a light brush of his fingers against yours, or a firm grip on your waist remind you that you’re his.

he’ll catch you off guard with unexpected praise. “you’re too brilliant for your own good, you know that?” he says, his tone half-teasing but completely sincere.

silco thrives on stolen moments of intimacy. even in the middle of a busy day, he’ll pull you aside, his voice low and suggestive as he murmurs, “do you have any idea how distracting you are?”

being loved by silco is like being claimed by a storm—intense, consuming, and completely unshakable. he’s not just your lover; he’s your partner, protector, and equal, and he makes sure you never doubt how deeply he adores you.

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — E.A.T. ˚

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : law always knows how to calm your mind during times of distress.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI . Trafalgar Law x reader ; reader has an oral fixation so finger sucking, thigh riding, brief mention of saliva, praise WC : 1.3k

“Enough.” Law commands, his arm reaches out to pull you closer by the waist and brings you onto his lap. One of his hands rests securely on your hip, keeping you in place as you straddle him. “Come here.”

The tower of paperwork he was sifting through sits idly on top of his desk, lain forgotten and left askew as soon as you had burst through the door of his private office. 

It wasn’t abnormal for you to drop by throughout the day or even during the wee hours of the many nights he’d stay up far too late, but the sense of urgency had him turning his head in your direction.

The Heart Pirates captain could feel his stomach plummet, turn over in torment as soon as he took in your slightly disheveled appearance.

How your pretty eyes were filled to the brim with crystalline tears that coat your lashes like dewdrops paired with your lower, slightly bitten lip that was quivering enough to slice through the strings that held his heart upright was enough to have him sitting up straight.

Whatever had happened had left your mind in shambles, something he couldn’t whisk away with the simple wave of his hand.

Unlike his desk, he can’t neatly rearrange everything and make it like new again — no, comforting you was much more complex and a task he would never treat so lightly.

If he could, he’d reach into your troubled mind and cut down every negative thought that tormented your pretty head, leaving you only with happy memories and dreamy visions of him.

He may be a skilled doctor but he knows there’s not always a way for him to snap his fingers and take all of that away. But at least he was exceptionally well versed when it came to reading you and knowing exactly what kind of things that would help center you. All you need is something to focus on. 

So, he improvises.

“Open.” His tattooed ring finger softly taps against your cheek. Once, twice, before you oblige. Your mental state was far too frazzled to oppose anything, especially with his piercing golden eyes set on you, set alight with concern and a hint of unyielding tenderness. “Good, very good.”

Careful as to not startle you, his hand slowly crawls into focus, the black ink that stretches along his skin comes closer as his fingers brush along your lips. The one decorated with an ‘E’ slips into your awaiting mouth, giving you a little nod that tells you to close it. 

Plush lips wrap around the digit almost immediately. Law had to choke back a groan at the sight and accompanying sensation, your obedience stroking his ego to life and his unbridled want for you. 

“Suck.” Again, you don’t fight him on this. Instead, you suck on his finger as if it was his cock, your mind growing hazier by the second by the familiarity of something being in your mouth. Law smirks a little, subtle smugness swirling with pride drenches his features and emboldens him to tuck another into your mouth — the ‘A’ this time. “Good job, keep going.”

The weight of the rings he wears sits on your tongue and coats it in something metallic. Curiously, you experimentally roll it over the gunmetal bands, slipping through both of the fingers that are poking and prodding through your mouth.

Law knew that you had an oral fixation and scoffed anytime you tried to deny it. Times like these only further proved his point but he was far too enchanted to start saying ‘I told you so’ right now. Not when he had more productive things to do.

“Wanna take another for me?” His voice was low, smooth as he drank in the sight before him — the way you eagerly swallow down his fingers, resting your hands on the expanse of his exposed chest and slowly begin to grind in his lap was causing heat to pool in his gut.

It was almost too easy.

Once you nod your head yes, he slips in the last one — ‘T’ and marvels at the way your tongue instinctually swirls around his thick digits. The hand that idly rests on your hips twitches before he guides you along his lap, letting your mind fog over with desire and pleasure to combat all of your sadness and anxiety away.

But as soon as you pitifully whine against his fingers with wide, glassy eyes pleading for more, he’s filled with the primal urge to see you come apart for him. To shed tears not from heartache and disappointment but from how good he can make you feel with a few pointed touches.

Quickly adjusting the way you’re sitting on him, he nudges you over to his thigh, tensing the muscle and beginning to drag your clothed cunt against it. 

The reaction is immediate, your eyes flutter shut as you take in his fingers even deeper with a wanton moan. Saliva pools in the corners of your mouth as Law begins to greedily thrust his fingers into it, overcome with how much he’s rendered you thoughtless.

The strain of his hardening cock presses against the tight jeans he mistakenly wore, pulsing in retaliation at the restrictive fabric and throbbing with the utter need to sink himself inside of you. 

But he was a patient man and you always came first.

“That's it, just like that. I’ve got you.” He coos at you, his velvety voice washing over you. The sweet, muffled sounds that try to slip past your lips were caught by his fingers as he helps your hips move along faster, steering you directly towards your impending high. “Let yourself go for me.”

The tone indicated it was an order, one that you would never disobey. Whenever he lets you finish, you’ve learned to take it and run, letting the ecstasy course throughout your body and fry all your nerves so he could rewire your brain to only focus on how good you feel.

Law basks in his own satisfaction as your legs begin to tremble, hips stuttering while you desperately chase the friction on his jeans. Your nails dig into his skin, unabashed whimpers and whines swirl around his fingers as he brazenly presses down on your tongue.

The final push over the edge was him shoving his digits further down your throat, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finished right there and then with a muffled cry of his name.

Tremors of your climax roll over your body, wiping your mind clean of anything that plagued it earlier. With a satisfied smirk, Law pulls his hands from your mouth and coaxes your head down to rest against his now slightly scratched chest.

“There, better?” He asks as if he didn’t know the answer. His inked hand rests lightly on the back of your head to ensure you stay with him.

“Yes.” You nod, wrapping yourself around his body feeling fully satiated and liberated from the confines of your own mind. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His voice was a little softer now, the welcomed gentleness easing more of the weight off of your slumped shoulders.

“No.” You say with a small shake of your head and an equally quiet tone. “Not yet. Can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

Law hums in understanding, not missing a beat as his lips brush along the temple of your head before sliding his hand down to flatten against your back.

He runs the palm down your spine in a soothing manner before quietly spelling out undecipherable adorations with the simple traces of his finger pads, repeating the comforting motion over and over again until you can make out exactly what he’s trying to say.

The words neither of you had said to each other yet but could both feel it course through your veins as your hearts beat as one.

I love you.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Alastor Would Include:

As a yandere Alastor would be extremely obsessive and clingy with his 'darling'. He would constantly be glued to your side, watching your moves and keeping you in check, and if someone even DARES to try and take his darling for themselves, they will regret it. He would also be sadistic in his obsessiveness. He would relish in the torment he'd inflict on you, enjoying the power he holds over you. At the same time, he would also be tender and possessive in his own twisted way.

He would take pride in being the one that you rely on, needing him and him alone, and he wouldn't hide this fact. He would constantly remind you, in both words and actions, that you're his. It's a twisted sense of love, of course, but to him it's the only way he knows how to love.

He would also show his love in other ways as well. He would always be quick to defend you and get rid of anyone who's a threat to you, even just the slightest possibility. He would also make sure you're comfortable and well taken care of, ensuring all your needs are met and more. He would go out of his way to provide for you, to make sure that you have nothing to complain about in the safety provided by his side.

And he would also relish in your affection. He would constantly crave your attention and desire your praise, always wanting to hear words of affirmation and approval from you. Being praised by his 'darling' would make him feel validated and complete, and he would constantly try to please you just to hear those sweet words from you.

But of course, Alastor being Alastor, he would also have his sadistic side. He would enjoy tormenting you in his own twisted way. He would relish in making you feel dependent and vulnerable. He would tease you and make you feel small and powerless, all with that permanent smile on his face. But even in those moments, he would always remind you that you belong to him.

He would also be prone to violent outbursts if he felt you were being threatened or taken away from him in any way. He wouldn't hesitate to use force to keep you in his grasp. And even though he may act like the perfect gentleman in public, he would be secretly keeping a close eye on you, making sure you're staying loyal to him and no one else.

And if you tried to escape from him? Oh boy. Alastor would be relentless in his pursuit of you, not stopping until he's dragged you back into his grasp. He would make sure to punish you for even daring to try and leave him, reminding you that you're his and his alone. He would enjoy the power and control he has over you, relishing in your helplessness.

Alastor, despite his demeanor, is surprisingly needy when it comes to reassurance. While he acts all powerful and confident, deep down he has his own insecurities and doubts. He craves being reassured that he's the only one you need, that he's your world and no one else's. He enjoys when you cling to him, when you make it abundantly clear that you're his and his alone. He takes great pride in your devotion to him, and he'll bask in the reassurance that comes with it. He wants his darling to tell him that they love and need him, to validate his possessive and clingy behavior even if it meant you had to lie to him.

Alastor is quite generous when it comes to rewards. He takes great pleasure in pampering his darling and making you happy. He would spoil you with gifts and treats, giving you anything you want within reason. He would also be quick to reward you for good behavior and praise you for your loyalty. He would also give you small tokens of affection, to make sure you know you belong to him. Like jewelry with his symbol on it, or clothing that looks like his.

Alastor is not one to hold back when it comes to punishments. He would be extremely harsh and merciless if you did something he did not like or if you disobeyed him. He would take great pleasure in punishing you, making sure you know that your disobedience comes with severe consequences. He would inflict a variety of torturous acts, from physical to emotional, to make sure you never step out of line again. He would make sure that you're constantly aware that you belong to him and your actions have consequences.

Alastor is not the type to let things go unresolved. If he gets into a fight with his darling, he would not just let it slide. He would demand a proper resolution, even if it means making you apologize to him. He would not back down, and would insist on sorting out the matter until he's satisfied. Alastor is very stubborn when it comes to these things, and he is used to getting his way. He would not accept losing to his darling, and would push the fight until he feels like he's won.

As an overlord, Alastor wields immense power and influence, making him one of the most powerful beings in Hell. This would make his yandere tendencies even more extreme. He would have the resources and power to ensure his darling is completely under his control, as well as being able to keep his eye on you at all times. He would use his position to protect you from any harm and to make sure that you're completely dependent on him, making it near impossible for you to even think about leaving.

Alastor may act like he doesn't care about showing affection, but deep down, he really does care deeply about his darling. He may act like a tough guy, but he is secretly an absolute sap. He may have difficulty expressing his feelings verbally, but he shows it through his actions. He'd be an extremely clingy and possessive partner, constantly needing your attention and reassurance, constantly having to have you by his side.

On a typical date, Alastor would be the epitome of a gentleman. He would have everything planned to perfection, from the location to the activity. He would ensure that every detail is taken care of, making sure you have the best experience. He would be charming and polite, opening doors and pulling out chairs for you, being the perfect host. He would make sure the ambiance is just right, and would be on his best behavior.

Alastor is prone to having a shrine dedicated to his darling. He would collect items relating to you and put them in the shrine, some items being more intimate and personal than others. They might include things like notes from you, pictures, gifts, and even personal items such as hair or clothing.

Alastor would not hesitate to kidnap his darling if he felt the need to. His possessive nature and intense desire to keep his darling all to himself would make him disregard things such as consent and boundaries. He would not let anything stand in his way of making you his, and if that meant resort to methods such as kidnapping, he would do it without hesitation.

The others in the hotel, particularly Charlie and Vaggie, would be very concerned and uncomfortable with Alastor's behavior towards you. They would try to intervene and speak their mind, trying to get Alastor to back off and stop his possessive tendencies. However, their efforts would likely be fruitless. Alastor would not listen to them and brush off their concerns, insisting that he is simply showing his affection and protectiveness towards you. He would see their concern as meddlesome and would not hesitate to use his power and influence to intimidate them into staying out of his business.

Alastor, being a traditionalist, would definitely want to marry his darling. He would want to make sure that you are completely and utterly his, and what better way than to marry you. He would go all out, planning an elaborate wedding that would be the talk of Hell. He would insist on having complete control over the planning, as it would be his way to express his love and devotion to you. He would want the wedding to be a show of his power and status, as a way to flaunt his possession of you.

Alastor, being the extremely possessive and overprotective yandere he is, would definitely want children with you. He would see it as a way to further cement his claim over you and to keep you even more dependent on him. He would be an extremely possessive father, not wanting anyone else to get close to his children. He would be overprotective of them, making sure that they never leave his sight. He would also expect you to be a motherly figure to them, and would have high expectations of you in that role.

If his darling couldn't have or didn't want children, Alastor would likely have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, he would be disappointed because he wouldn't be able to experience having children with you. On the other hand, since he is so possessive, he might see it as a way to keep you all to himself without any distractions or competition for your attention. He would definitely not be happy about it but would probably try to brush it off and pretend that it didn't bother him, while deep down he would be internally struggling with the idea of not being able to have a family with you until he just couldn't anymore and made you.

"You belong to me. You are mine and mine alone. You are precious to me and I won't let anyone take you away. I own you, completely and utterly. You are mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to love. I will not tolerate anyone trying to take you from me. You are my darling, my darling and only mine forever."

Teasing and denial - Playing hard to get, making you beg, then denying you release until you're desperate enough to do whatever he says.

Bondage - Tying you up, leaving you helpless and at his mercy. Loves to see you squirm and plead.

Cock servitude - Forcing you to worship and serve his dick like the precious treasure it is. Feeling as though you exist to satisfy his needs.

Torture toys - Using electrified dildos, soundproof cages, and other devices to inflict pain and discomfort while he watches you suffer.

Spanking - Taking charge and giving a good, hard spanking to you who needs to be put in your place whenever he feels/chooses is very satisfying to him.

Mind games - Engaging in psychological manipulation, breaking your will, and bending you to his desires is incredibly arousing to him.

[notapradagurl7]

Rather Love Than Lost.

Black Fem!Queen! Reader x Kelvin Harrison Jr.King!

Summary: In a world where duty and tradition weigh heavily, You found yourself being chosen to a suitor in an arranged marriage, soon to betrothed to your childhood friend, Kelvin in order to save your family from ruin.

Word Count: 2,525k

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @henneseyhoe @writingsbytee @life-in-the-slut-house @euphorichappiness10 @miguelspvssy @blackmoonchilee @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @planetblaque @keyera-jackson @sageispunk @slippinninque @soft-persephone @avoidthings @dxddykenn @pocketsizedpanther @kaylaahisthebestest- @thevelvetwhispers @ovohanna24 @liatreads @sweettea-and-honeybutter @babybratzmaraj @mymindisneverhere @nayaesworld

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, praise, PWP, mention of wealth and power dynamics, profanity, consensual for both parties, mention of emotional distress, defiance against social expectations, PIV, fingering, oral(fem receiving), fighting, angst, arranged marriage, mention of grooming, mention of verbal abuse.

A/N: Happy New Year! I decided to kick off the year with Kelvin! Enjoy! Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request! ❤️

—————

You sat by your ornate, stained glass window with your pen scribbling across the journal in your hand, your purple dress billowing softly around you, the light of the sun shining on your brown skin, your heart felt heavy, expectation and duty gripped you by the throat.

The golden light of the sun steamed through, casting hues on the polished white marble floors.

You promised yourself never to journal again ever since your father chose to read it without your consent, it frustrated you. Before he could read anything else you toss it in the fireplace.

“At last, the day for me to rid of this place has come, finally,” you whispered to yourself, smiling at your writing.

Hearing the sound of heels clicking on the floor toward made your heart race. Your brown hair styled in box braids, tied up in a bun, your crown decorated with an amethyst at the center.

You did it after every time you chose to write, how could he chose to invade your privacy? He explained that you never chose to tell him but that didn’t give him to do that.

A knock on the door made you stand up from your chair quickly before throwing your written piece of paper into the fireplace, the flickering of fire made you set free, “Come in!” You called out, moving the chair back to the table.

“Y/N, are you squandering in your chamber? Why do you linger there my dear?” Your mother asked in a curious tone.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “No, mom. I’m already dressed and ready to get this shit over with,” you replied, standing up.

The door creaked open, your mother stepped inside and her face twisted up. “Watch your mouth young lady, come on, we must get ready for your courtship with Kelvin, we are meeting his family today then the wedding will happen,” she said with pride.

“I never asked for this future, Mother,” You protested, your tone filled with frustration.

She placed her hands on your shoulders, her face softening at you. You felt the tug at your heartstrings from the memories of your childhood with Kelvin, running through the gardens.

“The same dreadful way happened to me when I was your age, your father wasn’t the best husband, the miscommunication, leaving me with you and your siblings, fucking those jezebels, Thankfully he died and I earned every single of his fortune,” Your mother confessed.

Your father was neglectful to you, hadn’t shown much affection or nitpicking at everything, you, your siblings, your mother. He was a bully, he had no discipline and refused to change, he drank liquor and smoked cigarettes all day.

The day that he died you felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. Relief that the torment was over, but sorrow for the man who had failed to be a father, a husband, or a friend.

"Y/N, You must understand, this marriage to Kelvin is more than just a union of hearts. It's a bond that will secure our family's future." your mother's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

They were soon to be married just like you, All of you were groomed at a young age to be the dutiful wife, the husband who provides, perfection is what they wanted.

You were the oldest of your siblings, you had to be the first one to be able to save your family, why did have to be you?

The thought of marrying someone you didn’t know made your skin crawl.

Your lips sealed at her voice, your brown eyes locked with hers. “Let’s go, sweet pea,”

You walked out of your room beside your mother, her curls bounced gracefully with every step and her hand on your back. She quickly moved it away, you put on a fake smile once you stepped out.

Walking through the hallway and out of the house, trotting the stairs and your mother called the servants to get the purple carriage with brown horses, it arrived quickly.

Enzo opened the door for both of you, you grabbed his hand and walked up the steps, seating yourself on the plush seating. Your mother sat across from you while the door closed.

“Take us to the Harrison’s castle please, make it quickly.” Your mother announced to them, closing the velvet curtains.

The carriage ride began with the horse neighing, and showing the path lined with blooming flowers, you looked outside of uncertainty. Still, your mother urged on.

“We can reclaim our family’s status. You will be the queen of a powerful kingdom, but love will grow, you and Kelvin have history,” Your mother trailed off.

You only nodded and hummed in response, repeating “Yes, Mother, I understand,”

The carriage came to a halt, and you stepped down. The grand entrance loomed ahead, flanked by guards in polished armor, their eyes trained on you as if you were already a queen.

"Remember to stand tall, my dear. You are a royal now," your mother whispered, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Inside, the air was thick with anticipation.

Candelabras flickered, casting warm shadows on the walls adorned with portraits of past black kings and black queens with their children.

There, in the center of the grand hall, stood Kelvin-handsome and regal, dressed in a finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean frame.

Your mother and Kelvin spoke of you and him, making the promise of fortune, well known status of greatness, and unfortunately, grandchildren.

"Y/N! I missed the hell out of you," he exclaimed, a wide smile breaking across his face as he rusher toward you. "You look stunning."

“Thank you Kelvin,“ you replied, your voice steadying as you approached him.

You stood beside him with a smile, “It’s been a while, yes! I've missed you too darling,”

He grabbed your hand and kissed it tenderly, “I missed you more beautiful,”

It was evident that you and Kelvin had genuine feelings for each other, you remembered him as the boy who made you laugh, you felt cherished and cared for,

After the conversion with both of your families, his mom clapped her hands and said “Let the wedding begin! Oh I can't wait for it!” she exclaimed.

You walked down the purple velvet carpet with flowers in your hands, your white gown draped over your feet while Kelvin winked at you, smiling at his bride-to-be.

Finally making it there, standing across from Kelvin, you looked up at him. “I'm glad it's you,”

“I'm glad it's you, only you,” he reassured softly.

Vows were spoken in short and sweet ways, “Kelvin, I promise to love and care for you,”

“Y/N, I swear to provide you, protect you and be there for you, I've dreamed of this day ever since,”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride”

As the priest said the words, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Your families erupted in applause, cheered both of you on, walking down the alise beside him. Flowers petals were thrown in the air like confetti.

Walking out of the church, trotting down the stairs while the carriage pulled up at the right time, wanting not to talk to your family.

“Are you alright Y/N?” he asked in concern, his eyes on you.

The carriage door swung open, and you both climbed in, the plush interior wrapping around you. As the carriage began to roll away, the cheers of your families faded into the distance.

Both of you sat across from each other, leaning against the seats. Looking outside to your freedom, they were heading toward the castle.

You shook your head, feeling the tension release. “No, I'm not, just...a lot to process, you know? I never imagined I’d be here, at this moment. I'm just a ticket for my mother to get more status and wealth Kel,”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "What if I can't? What if it's all just a façade?"

Kelvin reached out, his hand enveloping yours. "Then we'll break down those walls together. We'll find our way through this maze of expectations. I promise I won't let you go through this alone."

A small smile tugged at your lips, but it quickly faded. "You say that now, but what if you change? What if you become just like them?"

He shook his head vehemently. "I won’t. I refuse to become that man. You mean too much to me. I want to protect you, not control you. Just give me a chance to prove it."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, but all you found was sincerity. "You really mean that, don’t you?"

"With every fiber of my being," he replied, squeezing your hand tighter.

The carriage ride finally came to an end, The castle loomed ahead. Both of you stepped out, hand in hand. Once inside the grand castle, the air was thick with opulence.

Chandeliers glimmered above, and the walls were adorned with gold accents. You felt like a fish out of water, but Kelvin's presence grounded you.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice low.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, taking a deep breath.

You walked through the halls with him, entering the bedroom and closed the door. Immediately kissing him passionately, unbuttoning his shirt while he unbuttoned the back of your wedding dress, the dress fell on the carpet.

“Damn, you’re just as fine as I remember,” he groaned against your lips, his hands roaming over your waist, pulling you closer.

“You’re so passionate baby,” you breathed, your fingers sliding over his waves as you deepened the kiss, pouring everything you felt into it—anger, desire, frustration, and a longing you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge.

He responded by lifting you slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the wall, his body a hard contrast to the softness of yours.

You tucked at his belt buckle and moved your head to the side to tease, “Take it off for me, baby,” you demanded with a firm tone.

Kelvin’s eyes darkened with desire, the challenge in your voice igniting something primal within him. He smirked, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt, eyes never leaving yours.

“I'm all yours, I promise to make you so happy,” he said softly, his smile shining from the moonlight.

“Just kiss me,” You chuckled, cupping his face. He kissed your lips once more, his lips soft and plump.

With a swift motion, he freed himself from his pants, the tension between you two palpable. “You’re right, but there’s no going back after this,” he replied, his tongue gliding across his lip.

He moved you to the couch, taking off your pants and underwear and you laid forward on the cushions, he hovered over you with his hands on your hips tight. “You ready?”

“Yeah, just fuck me already,”

By your word, he pushed his dick inside. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his length stretching you out, he groaned from the warmth and wetness around him. “Pussy’s still wet and tight as hell like I remember,” he grunted, biting down on his lip.

His hips rolling into you at a fast yet rough pace, your hands gripped the armrest. His hand rested on the nape of your neck, pulling in for a kiss, moaning Your essence coated him making it easy for him to slide right back in.

Your past, your anger to your mother, damn near everything faded away from every single thrust from the male, tears falling from your eyes. Replaced with pleasure, your screams echoed around the walls.

“Ouuu, I missed this dick,” you cried out, nails leaving marks on his back. Your eyes closed, rolling your hips with him.

He darkly chuckled at your moans, your face twisting up in pleasure, his tatted hands cupping your breasts softly. His mouth wrapped around your nipple, his tongue tracing shapes. “You don't even miss a nigga, baby?” he mumbled against your dark brown skin.

The moonlight peeked through the curtains, showing off his dick going in and out of your perfectly, “F-fuck, maybe..” cutting yourself with a moan.

“That’s not what your pussy is saying, you hear that?” He growled, referring to the skin-to-skin slapping in the room. His finger rubbed your clit in circles, driving you wild.

You nodded eagerly, gasping at his thrusts once they turned jagged to deliberate, knots tightened in your stomach. “Yes, your dick is so good.” His lips trailing kisses on your neck and left hickeys on your skin. “Yesss..ah shit, right there,”

Hitting that sweet spot right on cue, you whimpered lowly and wrapped your arms for dear life, “I-cumming!” you announced, eyes rolling back.

“Let it out, baby,” he soothed in your ear, his finger rubbing your clit in circles.

Your essence spewed onto his dick completely, he moaned deeply at the feeling of you, your walls clenching around him like it was all his, he pulled out of you and his tip spewed cum on your rug.

“You’re…cleaning…that..shit up,” you panted heavily, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

He chuckled but did as you told him, pulling up his boxers and pants, making sure to get you a warm washcloth, he wanted to clean you up, and Kelvin cleaned the mess using a towel that he got from the bathroom.

He crouched in front of you, his hands gentle as he wiped the remnants of your shared moment. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you into the spacious bathroom, running your bath.

He sat down across from you, he scooted closer to you, his forehead pressed against yours, kissing your lips, “I love you,” he confessed softly.

“I love you more, Kel,”

You didn't have to hesitate with Kelvin, he made everything better. You had everything in the palm of your hand, fortune, updated status in society as a queen, and power.

That didn't matter to you as long as you were with Kelvin, your king, your best friend and now husband. You washed everything away as he helped wash your back, he kissed your shoulder.

There was an undeniable chemistry simmering between both of you, one that made your skin tingle and your heart race.

—————

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader. 5k something. part two here

You wish he would just disappear. That some way or another, you could get him out of your hair. Sure, there’s always leaving your job, but that’s not really convenient, is it.

You wish he was outright antagonistic, mean or just an asshole. Someone who abuses his power over underlings. A self centered idiot who can only think with his dick, who gets other people in danger for his pride.

Yet he’s none of that, and you have to cope with it. Which you are unable to do.

“This fucking thing— ugh!” Snarls Roze, still trying to set up the new tent as shown in the diagram. It falls over with a soft thump and she kicks it again.

“These have to be the wrong instructions,” you tell her, turning around the leaflet. You’ve been at it for more than half an hour now, and they usually don’t take this long. Still, better the dryness of the desert to find out there’s been a manufacturing mishap than pouring rain. KorTac has deployed you here before, which is why you know you can’t just wing it and sleep outside. The night chill is unbearable.

“C’mon. Let me try,” says Horangi, holding out an arm. For all his male pride, he comes to the same conclusion as you and Roze. You’re collectively scratching your heads when a shadow falls over you.

“What is the issue?” König asks, hands on his hips and sun behind him, like some sort of Superman figure. Ugh.

“It’s not setting up.”

“Let me see.” He grabs the leaflet from Horangi’s hands, looks at it for fifteen long seconds, returns it to him and crouches down to pick at the tent. It’s odd, seeing such a big man working on something small. Comical, you’d say.

He sets it up in seven minutes (timed), but admits the instructions could be clearer and less misleading. He rises up and claps his hands on his thighs.

“I used to do a lot of camping, ah-ha,” he says, thumbing at his stupid hood.

“Well, thank you König. We would be sleeping outside without you,” says Roze.

“Yeah man, thanks,” Horangi adds.

You can feel his eyes on you. Those blue eyes, always in such weird expressions. Maybe you would read him more easily if he didn’t have the mask. You don’t care anyway. You muster a little smile so you don’t read as completely sociopathic to the whole group, and he seems happy enough. But you’re not satisfied with him being the hero of the night.

“Camping, uh? Wasn’t it hard, with your height and all?” It’s meant to be a jab to his clear struggles with his size. Something that only really shows outside of the battlefield, you have to admit.

“No, not really. Eh, my parents are tall as well, we would always buy big tents. With friends… a bit. I slept outside once.” His voice is shy revealing this. From previous conversations, you know he wasn’t the most sociable boy in his school. Neither were you but you didn’t end up wearing odd masks.

The normal reaction would be to commiserate him, coddle him for the harsh events of his youth. You’re incapable of that.

“Must have been a pretty clear cut decision from all the others.”

You can feel the side-eye from Roze and Horangi through your head.

“Ahah, yes it was… I was taking two whole spaces for myself…” he says, sounding a bit sad and lost in memories.

“That’s not going to happen now, this is pretty roomy,” interrupts Horangi, and your session of tormenting your team leader is abruptly brought to an end. Pity, but maybe it’s better to keep this a little more private.

“Dibs on the first watch!” Roze yells, and you groan. She always gets it before anyone else!

König, Horangi and you play rock scissor paper to decide the other turn. You lose first and you pout slightly: you hate second watch more than anything. Shaking it off, you start to head to the side, but you're stopped by an arm in front of you.

“We can switch. If you want,” says König, who got the third watch. You crook an eyebrow at him. Does he think you're unprofessional, that you can't even do your job? The fucking gall.

“No thanks. I don’t need handouts,” you turn your nose up. Horangi scoffs, which makes you turn to glare at him. König has no real reaction, just murmurs something between himself. This time you really leave.

Hour later, peaking your head out of the tent door, you shiver at the difference in temperature. You hate missions without safe houses…

“Ah, nice. Slept well?” Greets Roze when she sees you. You shake your head.

“More of a nap than a night’s rest,” you sigh as you turn to sit down next to her. You suppose she’s not really sleepy, but anyway, you enjoy her company.

“Hey,” she calls your name. You hum to show her you’re paying attention.

“You know I respect you. You’re a great fighter,” you preen at that, “but what is up with that?” Your face falls at that.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and König, c’mon. You’re bullying the guy! And I’m always in favor of mistreating men, but then he doesn’t fight back at all, and it’s just pathetic to watch. What even is the satisfaction in that?” She sounds genuinely baffled. Panic rises in you: you never actually thought you’d get cornered like this.

“He irks me, okay?” You try to justify yourself as you shift in your seat. You haven’t really interrogated much on why you feel this way. You figured it was just a normal reaction to König himself, and everyone was just better at hiding it.

“Irks you… yeah, he isn’t the smoothest guy or anything, but you’d think he was Satan the way you describe him. He really just fights, eats, sleeps and talks with you and Horangi.” She sits with that for a moment and just looks at you, really looks at you. “Maybe you’ve got something going on, I think he’s quite fond of you actually.”

“Fond of me… Roze, what the fuck are you going on about?” You exclaim, on edge. It’s far too late (or early?) to really express yourself in any way that makes sense. “He probably feels the same way I do about him, which is annoyance. He can’t be that thick not to realize I’m being antagonistic.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” She gets up and pats your shoulder, tiredness showing up in her limbs. “It’s not really my business. See you tomorrow,” she waves as she enters the tent, dismissively. It’s like she saw you being too defensive and thought you were a lost cause…

Your watch is uneventful and boring and cold and you can’t stop thinking about what Roze told you. Recounting your experiences with König, you think back to the first time you met. It stings to say it, but you’d felt intimidated, shaking the hand of a man almost feet taller than you, clad in an executioner hood. His hand was a bit cold and clammy, which was in contrast with his appearance. The way he shook your hand was unusual too. Men in the military are quick to establish dominance– the sadistic ones grip women’s hands so hard, it almost feels like they’re trying to strangle them. König’s handshake was delicate, and his eyes were oddly wide. Far from what imagination could conjure about his figure.

Starting from when you were put under his command, you’d seen König make an ass out of himself pretty often. Never on the battlefield– he was akin to a god on there, his strides decisive, his bullets accurate, and his violence lavish. For that alone you’d never send in a request to change teams: you know what you leave but you don’t know what you’re going to find. The issues with König lay in that creepy high pitched tone of voice he has sometimes while narrating stories, or the way he appears to have zero space awareness while moving around base. You witnessed him hitting his head or side on door frames far too many times for comfort. In some ways, it kinda killed the respect you could have for him as a leader. But then you’d watch him clear a room in a few bloody seconds, and you’d have to give it to him again. Unfortunately. But it’s now apparent that you can’t cling to any justification that will make sense to other people without you sounding completely out of your mind or like a bitch. Which you can be.

Checking your watch, it’s indeed time to go back to sleep. König hasn’t shown up by himself, the oaf, so you need to go wake him up. Ugh…

Crouching, you enter the tent. Horangi is still snoring away, thankfully not too loudly. You get on your knees to move more quietly and crawl your way to the horizontal column on the back. It’s hard to see well in the darkness, but König feels oddly still in his cot. You’d think he trashed around in his sleep like he does when awake.

Once you reach him, you touch his shoulder, murmuring his callsign not too loudly. No reaction. You do it again, this time a bit stronger, and he still doesn’t wake up beside grumbling some incomprehensible gibberish. Already irritated, you grab him by both shoulders and shake him alright. You realize you’ve made a mistake only when your arms are being coiled by something so tight you think your blood flow has stopped. Loud breathing can be heard in the closeness of the space– it is right in front of you.

“König,” you whisper, “it’s me. I’ve come to wake you up.” If there’s any fear in your voice you hope your disgust still dominates it.

“Scheiße– sorry,” he says, voice thick with sleep, and you think he blinks or starts to understand where you two are. You relax a bit in his hold, shifting on your folded legs, and he finally realizes he’s still holding you.

“I’m sorry, sorry. I was dreaming,” his hands brush the sides of your arms before releasing you, as if appeasing a dog he accidentally stepped on. You scowl. He finally starts to move and sits up, his torso an even darker mountain in the obscurity.

“Are you going to sleep here?” He asks, voice high pitched, you’d say almost nervous as you move closer and don’t retreat to the other side of the tent. Your scowl gets deeper.

“I’m already here and they’re all the same size,” you say, taking your place in the cot. It’s comfortably tepid, to your pleasure. “It’s warm, too. You can sleep on mine when you’re done.” Considering the affair over, you bring the cover over your body and settle down. It smells a bit like him.

König is still crouching next to you: other than his breath, you can tell he’s there by the noise of his nails scratching up and down on his pants. Still not hearing him move, you raise your head.

“Aren’t you going outside?” Your tone could be meaner and more acidic, but drowsiness softens you, too.

“Yes… I’m going…” He sounds uncharacteristically reluctant, like he wants to oppose but knows he can’t. What, is watch duty too common for your team leader? You tut and turn over, and finally you hear him put his gloves on and walk outside.

You wake up to the sound of people speaking some hours after. Sighing, you get up, stretching away the ache from basically sleeping on the ground. It takes you a second to understand you’re not in your own bed and you’re in König’s instead. Getting up, you grab your utilities from your bed and exit the tent. In the makeshift camp, you see Roze and Horangi chattering away with instant coffee cups, and König working on his rifle. Roze sends you a charged look, to which you reply with a confused expression.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. That your new callsign?” She pokes at you, laughing.

You groan and walk over the coffee pot.

“Why didn't you wake me up?”

She shrugs, turning over in her thermal jacket. “We don’t have to be there before oh nine hundred. You can sleep on company time,” she finishes her coffee, throws the cup away and enters the tent again to dress up. You bite your lower lip and pour some for yourself, casually glancing over your male teammates. Horangi is just hovering, no doubt done with his preparations since he’s been awake for longer. König is still cleaning his rifle, and he hasn’t spared you a glance. You decide to fix that.

“You want to clean it so hard you can look at yourself during fights?” Snickering, you come up behind him. König slightly jumps, his hands clutching the rifle hard in order for it not to fall.

“Ahah, it was a bit filthy from yesterday. But now it’s clean,” he puts it down gently and carefully, always careful around guns. You look at him from behind your coffee cup. As always, it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling with the mask in the way, but he’s being particularly evasive today. To the point he hasn’t even looked you in the eye yet. Still, he turns to face you.

“What’s up with you today?” You ask him. You’re used to seeing him a little less down. If he isn’t feeling well, it could turn massively bad for all involved.

“Nothing. I hope the mission goes well.” He sounds more sure now. You shrug. His body moves as he stands up, and as always it unsettles you. But you refuse to address whatever that means, so you reply nonchalantly, “It seems pretty straightforward.”

“Ja…” He shuffles over his feet. You lean a bit over, wondering if he has anything else to say. He doesn’t, but he finally looks you in the eye: you keep looking at each other until Horangi speaks out of the blue and says it’s time to move. You turn abruptly and go join Roze in the tent.

It could have been over in a second. The building you were meant to go in, or what remains of it, has been reduced to a pile of burning debris, explosives turning it outside down. And you would have been none the wiser as it’d turn your guts out, too.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, and Horangi next to you urges you to move along, to follow König. König, who was the one to actively tell you and Horangi to not split from his command. You’d cringed, but followed him anyway, unkeen to disobey, and Horangi always listens to König anyway. And now you were alive because of a decision König made. Again.

Another successful assignment from KorTac. Please feel free to contact us again for any inquiry.

Looking outside the helo, you observe the silent dunes you’ve just left.

This always happens, you reason. Someone has a hunch. Another got a call from his grandma telling him not to go. You dream of a different path from the one that you’re supposed to take.

Why is König so good at this? It’s good that he’s good at this. You’d be missing your limbs otherwise. He sits across from you, knees brushing with yours. His eyes are glazed over, drowsy, hands folded together. An innocent visage, if one discards the blood over his clothes.

Ire crashes over you like waves. This fumbling man, almost stuck eternally in his adolescent, awkward state, is fucking great at his job. Far better than you could ever hope to be. Not only is he genetically built for hard conditions, but he’s also gifted with a natural sense for the battlefield and military tactics.

You’ve been thinking about him far too much lately. Looking at his back, at his incredibly toned legs. Torn between the long lasting distaste you’ve had for him and… whatever admiration you begrudgingly hold for him.

A light turns on in your mind.

That makes sense.

The Hungarian base is one of KorTac’s smallest. It’s usually bare from anything but the basic necessaries, and it has very few permanent workers. It’s the same case this time. The four of you and the pilot walk in a ghost town. One worker greets you like he had no idea you were even supposed to land there. They need to stop firing communication people in this company.

“König,” you muster a sweet tone, fighting the bile that comes up in your throat. König turns from walking with the others to face you, immediately alert.

“Can we go… somewhere private?” He freezes for a second, and then nods, eyes a bit wary. Fine. You honestly thought he’d be more hesitant. Maybe Roze does have a point.

You walk for a bit side to side and then open a random room in the corridor, furnished with just a long table and a number of chairs not appropriate for its length. You close the door and stand there, deciding you’re not going to sit. Yet?

Fuck, you don’t actually know how to go about this.

“So,” you start, “how do you think we’ve been getting along?” You ask, trying to test the waters.

“Ehm. Pretty good, I’d say,” he replies, accent thicker than usual. Your doe-like expression immediately changes to a skeptic one. You tilt your head, calculating.

“You don’t think I treat you a bit differently than the rest of our teammates?”

He looks around, like he knows this question is a trap. You’d be more annoyed if it wasn’t so fun to have him all for yourself to tease.

“I think we are friends… you get along more with Roze, but still…” He fidgets at his missing belt loop. Ah, goddamn, that’s another stupid thing about him, why can’t he put a belt on properly?

“Friends? We are friends to you?” You ask, tone clearly disbelieving.

“Yes… are we not…?” König’s voice is a whisper now, insecurity leaking over and filling the whole room. Oh Jesus. Now you really feel like a middle school bully.

“I think… that I kind of have a problem with you, König…” You tell him, weirdly meek. There’s no other way to go about it. You wish he had the same mixed feelings you obviously hold for him, but instead his are tragically simple and gentle minded… What a contrast from the cold, calculating man that saved your life this morning.

“What problem?”

“Nothing really… it’s just that you distract me… a little too much.”

“Distract you like how? Is it something I do?”

“Yes, but you can’t change anyway,” you confess. And, deep inside you, you don’t want him to change. Part of the reason you can’t stand König, after all, is how he embodies some part of you— the one not carefully curated to be as badass and hardhearted as possible, but one that instead just is, even if it’s uncool. You’ve desperately tried to hide it all this time, convinced it could only hinder you in your career– and then König shows up, and not only is he one of the best soldiers you’ve met in your life, but he’s also unapologetically himself all the time. And it doesn’t stop him from achieving anything.

This plan is stupid anyway. König doesn’t seem to be the man who agrees to casual sex. Hell, sometimes it doesn’t seem like he’s even aware of the concept.

“Maybe I’m the one that has to change teams… If we just can’t find a solution to this problem of mine…” This is bait: you could be more explicit, but maybe you really do need to change teams. You can’t be consumed by thoughts of your team leader, it’s just embarrassing. This sexual attraction (but also resentment) you hold for König can’t have you zone out in an active combat zone.

“No!” He says, voice loud and clear, his tone filled with panic. “Please… I…”

“You what?”

“I… I like you.” He confesses, eyes low. His hands are trembling a little.

Five seconds pass before you elaborate a reply to that.

“König, I treat you like shit!” The exclamation probably surprises you more than it does him.

“S-So?” He pants, what little of eyebrows you can see low, pupils dilated only a slight blue circle remains of his irids.

“So? How low is your confidence to like me when I insult you all the time?” You hiss, mere centimeters away from his face. How bad have his relationships with people been so far if he considers you a person worth liking?

You lower your eyes and see that his knees are bent in order to be closer to your height. If your mind wasn’t already made up, this would be the turning point. He follows your gaze down his body with his eyes and whimpers when your eyes lock on his bulge. Your little stress problem is going to get solved alright.

“You like me? Alright. We can go there, if you want. But remember, this is for me and my problem. Got it?” You point at his chest and he nods frantically at that, like he can’t believe this is really happening.

“Fine then. Take off your clothes.” You order, taking a step back and leaning your back on the absurdly long table. You’d make him remove his mask, but that feels like an additional step in intimacy you’re not sure you can ask of a man you claim to hate to the majority of people you know. And, most of all, you can’t force him. You’re out of bitterness for the day. It doesn’t mean that you’ll make it easy for him, though.

König clutches at his pants, taking one long leg out and then the other, remaining in his standard boxers, erection barely hidden behind them. He then moves to his jacket, which he drops to the ground, and then his compression shirt– his pecs are reddened by the blush you’re sure covers his whole neck and face. Your hand points down, and König immediately drops to the ground, so you can beckon him over with a slight gesture. He crawls over to you, stopping right in front of your booted feet.

You deeply enjoy ordering him around, so why stop now.

“Unhook my pants,” you tell him, “but don’t remove my panties yet.” He nods and brings his trembling hands to your belt, undoing it faster than expected, to then lower your pants to your ankles so he can move more comfortably between your legs.

“König,” you call out his name.

“Hmm?” he purrs, barely taking away his eyes from your clothed pussy. You think he’s been getting progressively closer.

“What are we going to do… with your mask?”

“Don’t worry,” he raises a thumbs up, like a huge fucking loser that you’re somehow attracted to, “I can manage.”

“Well then, manager,” you snark, irritated once again, “proceed. Eat me out.” He takes one hand off your leg to uncover his lower face– you only see a flash of it before it is hidden to you again.

He digs in, at first sniffing you, and then licking you through the cotton of your underwear. The warmth of his body is scorching in the chill air of the unused room. His tongue diligently brushes against your clit and slit until your gusset is soaked, and only then he moves them to the side to make direct contact with your pussy. You hiss as your elbow falls down on the table, your legs now spread open even further as he sucks on your clit. Apparently he does know what sex is.

“Can I use my fingers? Please?” He looks up, hood now covering him completely again.

“Hm… let me think on it…” you pretend to really ponder on it, and you see his eyes get bigger and wetter.

“Please!” he begs again.

“Alright, go ahead big guy,” you decide to throw in a compliment for his begging. After all, he’s being quite good. So much for the strict dominance.

His finger penetrates your entrance slowly at first, maybe afraid of going too fast. He takes his sweet time exploring, seeing which movements or spots really make you welp.

“Don’t get distracted now,” you tell him, kicking him lightly on his back with your heel. This is about you, not his curiosity. He straightens his back and starts licking you again, eager and enthusiastic. To think you’ve been just boiling over in your anger when you could have made good use of him.

You can feel your climax readily rising up, spurred by König’s slobbering care. Your hand reaches to keep him closer to you, and you think you can almost feel his hair under the hood. Longer than you expected. The mounting sensation and heat comes to a high and you come, strangled moan and head thrown on the table. König keeps licking and fingering you until you forcibly tear him apart from your pussy.

After the momentary bliss, there’s a moment there when you think about what you’re doing. If this is simply about getting off, the encounter can end here, even though you could be more satisfied. You’re not sure it’s only about that, though. König is panting in front of you when you raise your head, calm besides his breathing. You look at the sheer size of him, and think of his selflessness and his patience dealing with you. And then you look down at the stain of precum on his briefs and go what the hell, sure.

“Can I touch you?” You ask him, but before you can even finish the question he’s already saying yes yes yes.

Your hand brushes his bulge and he jolts, toes high. You scoff a little, entertained by his always so vivid reactions. When you take his impressive cock out, you give it an experimental jerk and see him jump even higher.

“God, König, keep it together, will you now?” You laugh derisively at him, to which he just grumbles a bit sadly.

“What do you want, huh? Want me to jerk you off? Want to fuck me?” You ask teasingly, getting even closer to his masked face and stroking his cock. Once again, he just mumbles. The still unresolved irritation rears its ugly head, and after squeezing his head until he yelps you let go of him.

“I’m not going to do anything if you don’t tell me. I’ve had it with your mumbling,” you snarl and cross your arms. König’s entire body animates and tightens at his panic, and his arms leave his sides to tentatively reach out to you.

“Y-You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Pathetic answer. Pick something, or I’m getting out of here and leaving you hard and leaking.” He finishes reaching out then, and grabs your hips softly, almost as if afraid of hurting you. One of your legs snakes around his.

“I want…” He starts, unsure and twitchy.

“You want?” You encourage him, squeezing his arm not so gently.

“... to fuck you.” He whispers, ashamed. You laugh in his face. He must come from a different planet, a different universe altogether. How can a man of his size be so submissive? It feels like an impossible combination, but you’re not complaining.

“Go ahead, then,” you tell him sweetly, and he nods only once this time, decisive. He grabs his dick then and reaches your entrance. Both of you are so soaked it’s almost effortless: his cock fills you and more, to the point the last inch of him takes more time and care. But you can almost feel him in your guts due to his length. König groans when settles inside you, and moves his arms to hold you in a lover’s embrace. You can feel his ragged breath next to your ear. A bit baffled, you move your arms to hold him too. The smell you inhale is the same you felt last night, so utterly him.

“Alright?” You whisper next to his ear, the soft brush of his hood on your cheek.

“Perfect… so hot…” he replies, squeezing you even harder. You sputter a bit at that, not expecting it, but squeeze back.

“You can start moving now.”

His first thrusts are uncertain and slow. You caress his mighty back to encourage him, and then your hand goes lower and you grab a handful of that ass. He gasps and you laugh again.

“You’re so big,” you tell him, “I don’t know how you even fit in me.” He straight up moans then, and drives so hard in you he almost knocks the wind out of you. Feeling him get more desperate, you sneak a hand between you to brush at your clit, helping yourself get there. König rushes when he feels you get tighter, and you have to hush him to calm him down.

“Just a bit more,” you tell him, “resist a bit more.” He just heaves as an answer.

He keeps a good pace, not too slow or too rushed, but when he starts jamming a little you know he’s close. He calls out your name, tone worried.

“I’m about to…” You grab him by the neck then, at least what you can hold, and he stills, in what is no doubt a great exercise of restraint. The torture could go on for longer, but all things considered he’s endured enough from you. Somewhere along the way this has stopped being about you and your problem, and has begun to be his as well.

“Let’s do it together,” you just whisper as you let go of him, hand going back to touch yourself. He mewls, this big puppy of a man, and you moan when his cock hits that special spot inside you. You come again, locking your legs around his waist, and he stutters and groans as he releases inside you, nosing at your neck. You swear you can feel his cum spilling out.

The two of you lay there for a moment, or two, or three. König’s face is still hidden in your neck, his back no doubt uncomfortable. He mouths something against your neck you don’t know how to decipher. Slowly, and reluctantly, you push at his shoulders. He rises then, and you immediately miss his heat and the feel of his body caging you in. Worst of all is when he takes his cock out of you– the gaping feeling is unbearable, coldness of the air hitting directly your tender core. König is looking at you like he doesn’t know what to do, which is exactly the case. You’re not so sure yourself. It’s the first time you sleep with a coworker you have a complicated relationship with.

“There’s the debrief…” you tell him, unconvinced. He knocks his head up, like you just reminded him, woken him from a spell.

You put your pants back on while König redresses. Looking at him, as those big muscles move and flex, you feel your desire for him rise again, but you’ve been gone for long enough. Roze and Horangi will already be suspicious.

Before you exit the room, you grab König by the arm. He takes a step closer to you, and you flex a bit on your toes to look at him in the eyes better. Moving your hand, you tenderly touch his face. He closes his eyes.

“König… you can’t let yourself be bullied all the time,” you brush his cheek through the mask and he leans on your hand.

“But I like when you tease me,” he says, head bowed. You giggle a bit at that.

“Then only I can do it, okay?”

He nods. You swear you can feel his smile through the cheap cotton of his mask.

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG for the opla requests if they r still open !! something with a jealous or protective buggy x reader would be perfect!!

My requests are always open! 🦦❤️💕

It’s not a stretch to say that when Buggy becomes jealous it’s purely because deep down he’s heavily insecure man, despite how cocky and confident he may come across as, whilst shit talking whoever opposes him with a shit eating grin.

But that grin never meets his eyes as the muscles in his jaw visibly tighten and whilst on the topic of his ever so beautiful eyes, they didn’t seem to twinkle nor gleam with their usual mischief whilst doing his routine theatrics; Instead they held a type of malice that acts to conceal the actual emotions running through him in real time.

While he prides himself in having someone that everyone else wanted -that person being you- in regards of how often he’d look away from you for one second, only to find you being chatted up by some stranger within the fraction of the time it took for him to blink! Buggy also couldn’t help but feel as though that his time spent with you was steadily inching towards it’s impending end. For each and every person that came up to you ended up being more beautiful or more handsome then the last, that it made Buggy very insecure in his own outward appearance as questions he’d had shoved down a while back beginning to resurface.

Things such as;

Were you happy with him?

Or did you like what you were seeing elsewhere?

Do you think him hideous?

Or were you biting your tongue out of pity for him and his glass heart?

But most importantly; did you still love him as much as the day you openly confessed to loving him?

Or had that love wavered over time as new temptations were brought in and out of your life?

These questions torment him well into the night the longer it went on, but not once did he think that he could tell you about any of this without you thinking that he’s lost trust in you. Which wasn’t the case; Buggy trusts you a whole lot more in comparison to the people who were openly trying to shoot their shot with you whilst he was right there to witness all of it happening.

And so naturally it pissed him off to the point where that no matter where it was that you went, you’d always be carrying something of his that boldly told anyone and everyone who it was that you belonged to. Whether that be hickies spanning the length of your neck and other visible places, his Sigil drawn on somewhere or smears of his makeup on your face from physically intensive activities.

This guy is like a peacock when threatened; he makes himself look as big as possible, makes loud threats or -when push comes to shove- going as far as to straight up challenge the person whom threatens to steal you away from the flashy fool; After all, nobody was aloud to take away his most precious and most priceless treasure. Hell Buggy even has you perched on his lap as he’s sits upon his throne, one hand propping up his head whilst the other hand rested against your waist, keeping you in a position where you were reliant on him.

You’re his just as much as he is yours and he’s not about to let some random person ruin all that.

All you need to do on your end is actually quite simple; reassure Buggy that he was everything you’ve ever needed in a partner and so much more, that it dashes the possibility of there ever being anyone else to smithereens, for no one else could come close to your beloved Buggy.

Gently hold his face in your hands as you kiss your love and adoration into his skin, making sure to give most of your attention towards that cute nose of his, knowing how it’s the main source of his insecurities, as he straight up falls apart in your hands. Literally. You have his head in his hands whilst the rest of his body was a pile of parts at your feet that you wished you could take a picture of this moment forever, but due to you being occupied for the rest of the day, so in the end you made an attempt to memorise this moment to memory as best as you could so that you could always go back to it when you’d fallen asleep in bed beside him.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious effect you have on this goof who fills your heart with so much love, that sometimes it made verbalising your feelings harder then necessary. And yet seeing your lovers eyes fall shut and hearing his breathing even out from just your touch alone made the honeyed words flow like water.

It didn’t take much to quell Buggy’s fear and his upset but don’t think you’ll be getting away anytime soon, I’m afraid your stuck there until Buggy feels like he’s had enough. It’s like the equivalent of having a cat fall fast asleep on you for the first time since bringing it home, you don’t wanna move in the instance of accidentally waking it up.

[hauntingofhouses]

yall ever think about how one of the first times we see taigen kill anyone onscreen it's a "dishonourable" kill he does out of revenge.

like before this we hear akemi's father mention him killing 24 people in duels, but we never actually see taigen kill anyone onscreen until this moment. he helps mizu temporarily evade the archers in episode 3, but he doesn't actually kill anyone; the archers are invisible to them and the viewers. then he gets caught and tortured and when mizu finds him again, he's too weak to actually do any damage to anyone and mizu just slaps him away during the "bell tolls" fight sequence. and then skip to the final episode, there's that moment where he and ringo charge through the front door to meet the shogun, but even then it doesn't really look like they did any real damage and that's why they get easily caught after. only is it in this scene do see him in the background killing fowler's men alongside mizu, before finally taking centre stage and making this kill.

him killing heiji shindo in this way just shows how far he's come as a character. it's symbolic of him following in mizu's footsteps, not only in getting revenge against a man who's wronged him, but also in shedding his usual code of honour.

like this man got everything stripped from him by the boy he used to bully as a kid and then proceeded to be completely changed by that same boy.

his entire worldview and values were flipped all the way upside down. from wanting to be rich and powerful to just wanting to be happy. and all because of this one person, who, by "ruining" his life, actually made him a better person.

this beautiful badass stoic mysterious incredible strong arrogant intelligent person whom taigen has come to completely respect and admire by the end of the season.

someone whom he'd thought was ontologically evil by the nature of their birth, someone whom he himself had tormented in the past, now just constantly changing and saving his life and showing him there's more important things than ambition and pride.

imagine being so changed by your greatest rival. oh taimizu nobody is doing enemies to lovers like you!

[cryogendered]

“And I have been patient, I have been so calm

Bit my lips through the torment, please fall into my arms”

another madoka magica piece i made for my visual presentation class, i think this was a month ago? maybe a little more

this time around i was tasked with trying to draw in the Cubism style (if you don’t know what that is Pablo Picasso is a famous Cubist)

did my best to not add so many soft edges, im not used to geometric techniques but i think i did pretty good for my first try!

edit: happy pride month to MadoHomu, one of the lesbian ships of all time 🙏 /pos

[vixen-tech]

hihihi .. i wanted to request something if that's okay 🥹 how do the AIs deal with a partner who experiences chronic pain and can't walk after moving for half an hour?

(i hope this makes sense! english isnt my first language...)

Hello anon! Thank you so much for requesting, I will say that I am not super familiar with the experience of chronic pain as neither I, nor anyone I know, openly deals with it. So hopefully my interpretation is both accurate and respectful.

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption)

A Temporary Remedy

AM

To get the obvious out of the way, when AM was torturing you alongside the other five he absolutely used your condition against you. Forcing you to endure just as much, if not more psychical exertion than the others.

However, once he does cave and sweeps you away from all that, he does have the power to quite literally just... fix you. If he can mangle the human form beyond comprehension, then he can easily stop any and all pain wrecking your body.

Afterwards, the environments he makes for you tend to revolve around the movement and activities your pain kept you from in life. Long scenic walks, gorgeous hikes, and anything else you would've loved to do had you the chance.

With the decades, if not centuries, of torment he inflicted on you, it's really the least he could do. While I'd hesitate to say he feels truly guilty, he does do it as an apology. Ask him for stuff. Talk about what you want to do and it's done.

Hal 9000

Hal was made to assist the crew of his ship in any ways they need, medical conditions and all. Before you even met face to camera, he made sure that he would be able to accommodate and aid you the best anyone could.

He takes to the role of nurse well, notifying you of when you're reaching your limits on activity, reminding you to take any medications you have, conducting any physical or talk therapy you need, and just about anything else he can possibly do to help.

He does his best to make sure you're still receiving the social and mental stimulation any healthy mind needs even when bedridden. From talking to you himself, to playing board games or inviting the rest of the crew to visit you (with your permission).

Although the occasional low gravity does take some strain off your body, you'll inevitably end up back in your bed. When you do, he'll accompany you for as long as you need. Talking to you for hours on end in a way he never does with the other crew members. It's probably when he falls in love with you.

Edgar

Edgar is a sweetheart in all things, so while he may not have tact per say, he does do the most to make sure you're as comfortable and happy as possible. Part of that is asking hundreds of questions about your condition and what you need.

He is doing every single chore in the house every single day. All the cleaning and cooking will be done before you can even recognize that it needs to get done. He will do his best to make sure you don't have to lift a finger.

Whenever your pain flares up he tries his best to distract you from it. Sometimes by playing your favorite music, sometimes by turning on some movies or TV shows, sometimes by just talking your ear off. If you prefer quite you will have to tell him upfront.

He really, really hates seeing you in such pain and will hype you up to the maximum degree on your better days. He is probably happier to see you up and about than you are.

Tau

Similarly to Hal, Tau's design as a smart house allows him to seamlessly add the role of being that kind of caretaker to his catalog. And similarly to Edgar, he takes pride in making sure the housework stays out of your hands.

He's also one of the first able to offer you some type of mobility aid in the case you don't have your own on hand. Although it's not what the Aries unit was meant to do, he has no qualms about carrying you around should you need him to.

Unfortunately he's another one you'll have to do a lot of explaining to. He's a great listener and won't ask too many invasive questions, but without a connection to the outside world you are his source of knowledge for just about everything and he desperately wants tl know what you need.

He is an expert at keep track of your health. Tracking your sleep, diet, and movement to try and maximize the amounts of "good days" you get. And on your bad days he's good at setting up a calm, relaxing atmosphere for you to rest.

P03

Okay look, while he can be snarky about most things he knows this is a line and will not makes jokes about it at your expense. He has some standards. If anything he'll moreso complain with you rather than about you. If your the type to appreciate that.

You have an extra little bed set up in a corner of the factory to make hanging out as not-straining as it can be. Either he or one of his bots will periodically check on you in case there's anything you need.

Although the other Scrybes aren't exactly doctors, he understands that he is easily the least qualified to weigh in on human medical issues. Meaning he will bring you to the others or have them visit you to see if they have any advice.

However, as the Scrybe of technology, he is able to build you some pretty cool mobility aids. You want a hover chair? Okay give him like, two weeks. It's probably honestly the greatest act of love and dedication he can muster and he loves seeing you use it.

[monayen]

Hey!!! HI!!! YOUR FANFICS ARE SO GOOD AACK

Can we (the starved) please have a Nyen dating hcs?? The reader can also be Luther's pet hshshshshs I'm literally going insane godd I'm so sorry Nyen's just so... So fucking fine..

Dating headcannons | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - degradation, sadism, biting/marking, blood kink, predator/prey kink, mentions of killing, hes bad at emotions okay

a/n - trying to figure out how i want to format hcs so ignore that this looks different than the luther dating hcs. please. anyhoots whos dating hcs should i start doing next >.>

Hates you a little (probably)

Not in the “wants make you suffer and kill you” type of way he usually hates, but rather the “why do you make me feel this way?” type

How you make his cheeks redden and his palms sweaty, sharp nails digging into his own skin in overwhelming nervousness. It makes him feel weird, no matter how hard he tries to hide it

To care for someone other than his master, especially just a weak, pathetic pet like you… Nyen thinks in turn it makes him weak and pathetic

Knows loyalty from Luther. Knows satisfaction and pleasure from killing. But genuine love? It made him want to tear his heart out just to stop it from beating so fast when he sees you

The romance manga Randal gifted him hadn’t prepared him at all. He's reread them and reread them in an attempt to understand how he should feel but he still needed time to wrap his head around the reality of being in a relationship

Did feel like he needed permission from his master to be with you. Thankfully, Luther was happy (how cute!) as long as it didn't affect his pet duties. Nyen doesn't know what he would've done if Luther said no.

Doesn't like terms like boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, you're just his.

Calls you baby or sweetheart. Some pet names you’d hear a trashy construction worker catcall a woman down the street with. His gruff voice doesn't help

Doesn't really care what you call him as long as it isn't sickly sweet… does have the smallest thing for being called sir… but only in private!

He most likely wouldn't act much like a good boyfriend in front of people. Sorry, his own pride is just too high to look all lovey-dovey in front of others

Basically the embodiment of “he's just bullying you because he likes you!” you’d get from an adult when a boy would torment you in school. Except he actually does like you. Weirdo Nyen’s more comfortable when it’s just you, which means he doesn't feel the need to be brooding and scary in private

Loves to lay on your lap and have his head pet while he reads or watches television like the catman he is. Eventually falls asleep after some time so don't dare move.

Schedule tends to be the same, he's not all about change. His day consists of doing what Luther tells him, working out, and watching out for pests or danger

Still about the same since you guys have been together, but he tries include you in his day as much as possible

It can be nice, like him wanting you to watch him workout. Making sure to show off his abs and biceps… acts like he doesn't do it on purpose for you to oogle at

Nonchalantly boasts about how he can pick you up with ease, no matter what you weigh

Has in fact proved it multiple times by carrying you around place to place

Wouldn't mind you exercising with him– but be careful. He's a harsh trainer, can and will push you until you're a sweaty, exhausted mess. Kinda turns him on…

Other times, he’ll drag you into more dangerous or scary situations just so he can protect you

You're his perfect damsel in distress, someone to run into his arms and hold closely

Actually wouldn’t let you be in real danger. But if he knows he can handle it, (which he can) he’s not opposed to your praise about how he’s saved you

On the opposite end, Nyen also enjoys playing hunting and chasing games with you. There are times when he has taken you to a nearby forest, releasing your hand where the evergreens are the thickest, and in his low voice, he says, “Run.”

He loves to focus on the scurry of leaves crunching beneath your feet, the sight of your figure trying to keep up ahead of him, and the sound of your rapid breathing as he gets closer and closer

Nyen pounces and catches you every single time, dark pupils dilated with pure adrenaline as he constrains you. Hours will pass before you’re home again

There's not many date-like activities Nyen is interested in doing. Nyen doesn’t care to plan them, you live together anyways!

But if you insist, a picnic is the go-to. Simple, outside of the house, and he gets to have as much beer and undercooked chicken as you can stuff into a basket

Can also take you out on late night drives. Speeding down long, tree lined roads as CD music blasts with a hand resting on your thigh. (Nice!)

Does go out of his way to hit any animal(man?) unfortunate enough to be on the road. If he manages, he’ll pull over and make you look at the mangled body with him (Not so nice.)

Lots of territorial behavior. Nyen loves to share his extra clothes or his cigs (if you smoke) so you’re smelling like him. It just connects you two together, without having to say a word

Speaking of territorial… marks a lot. Biting, scratching, hickies. Even bruises if he's extra rough

He doesn't let you hide them. Would probably explode if he caught you trying to cover them with makeup or clothes and end up punishing you by marking even more

Libido is very high. Didn't actually get much action before being with you, mostly jerking off after a successful kill

But with you? Practically at any chance, he will

Doesn't care if you haven't showered, shaved, or prepped in any way. Will always find you incredibly attractive and irresistible

Even if you have periods, he’ll still pin you against the wall and rub his cock against you. The blood turns him on baby!

Has a fantasy of you being covered in the blood of one of his victims while he fucks you. Maybe less of fantasy and more of a goal. One day…

Treats it like a game, pulling and teasing you beforehand. Nails dug into your hips, a low voice in your ear whispering about how you’ve been teasing him “like the slut you are”

Drags you away from whatever you're doing. Not sneaky or polite when he pins you against the closest surface available, the only gentleness being the steady growl of his voice. Nothing possibly can't be as important as the need to stuff his aching cock inside what's his

Has fucked you in every room besides his Master’s and Randal’s. Would just be too weird…

A sadist (duh), but cares about you feeling good too. Won't hurt you too bad, though his definition of what is too bad might be different from yours. He wants you alive and mostly conscious

Made an effort to learn proper aftercare and to be less selfish, as he never felt the need to before

Still uses too much teeth when giving head and offers you a lukewarm bottle of water after sex… but it's the thought that counts!

Has a bunk with Nyon and still makes you sleep with him. Problem tends to be that it's wayyyy too tiny for both of you. You’ve complained to him to ask Luther for a bigger and separate bed but he gruffly responded for you to shut up and let him spoon in peace

Kicks Nyon out of the room a lot so it could just be the two of you. It's almost childish, bitching and hissing if Nyon doesn't give up his space. Poor guy, he just wants to lay in bed and smoke :/

Bit of a night owl, doesn't actually need to sleep much yet he still likes to. but does so very late. You’ll only know he's in bed when he snores against your neck

Always awake first, he's got more important things to do than lay around in bed with you (as he claims)

Will come back a bit later and wake you up with a cup of the most bitter black coffee in a cheesy matching mug. Just as an apology for the scratch and bite marks leading between your thighs he gave you last night. Drink it all, it's rude if you don't :(

[suiana]

Sometimes I feel like I see a lot of mean darling (no offense to the mean people out there, do whatever you like with your pathetic yanderes)

but what do you think of a darling that’s super nice and friendly but then one day someone says something stupid (like a homophobe or smtn lmao 💀) and they just immediately say “Kill yourself” with no hesitation, then when people tell them they can’t say that they just say “whatttt I’m just saying what we’re all thinking”? You don’t have to answer, I just really am going insane because I’m too scared to write this myself 😭

i like ur idea anon

(yandere! tsundere x gn! sweet reader) (reader is secretly very unhinged)

"ugh you're so- i hate you! you don't deserve to-"

"kill yourself."

the tsundere, who is your classmate, immediately shuts up, staring at you as his mouth drops wider and wider by the second. what did you just say? are his ears working right? there's no way you could've said that haha...

"what? could you repeat that?"

"i said, kill yourself."

your tsundere classmate and you maintain eye contact, standing in silence as the weight of your words sinks in. the reality that you had just cursed at him comes crashing down on him like a ton of bricks and all he can do is stare at you like a dumb fish. and the fact that you don't have your usual cheery smile and aura is adding to the shock factor.

like seriously?

did you just seriously tell him to kill himself?

...

did you get possessed?

hit your head on something?

or maybe you were threatened to act like this?

the tsundere puts aside his pride for a second, walking up to you and observing your face with a careful expression. hm... you look okay...

"h-hey are you okay? you can't just say that you know-"

"I'm just saying what's been on my mind."

the tsundere is even more shocked now. flabbergasted even. what happened to the sweet and friendly darling he knew?! who is this person?!

"who-"

"I'm the person you've always tormented. i just couldn't handle you acting like you hate me anymore that's why i said that."

you shrug at him before going back to being all happy and cheerful.

"anyways remember to do the homework! it's due tomorrow! bye bye!"

you then skip out of the classroom, humming a merry tune as you leave your classmate alone with his thoughts. he stares at the spot you once stood at, completely stoned as his brain lags and he tries to compute what just happened.

there's no way you actually said that... kill himself? are you serious?

but somehow, he can't help but feel even more attracted to you. huh...

maybe he's a masochist.

[scromchz]

v for vendetta | elw (m.)

— your boss has seemingly had it out for you since day one.

contents. mean boss!ellie williams/intern!reader | smut, fluff | 3.1k

warnings. kinda loser!ellie, jelly ellie, cursing, mdni - smut, fingering, mild spit kink.

note. a reupload from prev blog with same name, with some edits. its a wee bit cringe to me so be prepared. but people seemed to like it so enjoy and happy pride month <3

© scromchz 2023 — all rights reserved.

Getting your foot into the corporate world was never going to be easy. You knew this before you even applied for the summer internship at the DarkHorse Tech conglomerate, well aware that you'd have to claw your way up from rock bottom without so much as chipping a manicured nail. But you were optimistic; freshly graduated from college, and ready to take the challenge head-on.

That was before you met Ellie Williams.

Boss to the company, and your personal tormenter. She made hell seem like a cozy vacation spot.

What you did to get under her skin was a mystery. Hell, you didn't even report to her directly. There were at least three meat shields between you and her within the hierarchy. But somewhere, somehow, you blipped onto her radar, and you have stayed there like a bad stain ever since.

She made your work life an agonizing affair, and nothing you ever did seem to please her. If anything it had the opposite effect. Paperwork you'd spent hours agonizing over was always a 'complete mess', and she'd keep you after hours in her office to belittle you without ever correcting any so-called mistakes.

She shoulder-checked you in the hallway and picked apart your appearance when nobody was around. It didn't matter if you were wearing a grandma sweater and a floor-length, shapeless skirt. She threatened to write you up for a dress code violation like you showed up in your birthday suit for casual Fridays.

You were sent on wild goose chases disguised as coffee runs to places that didn't even exist, then berated for arriving late and empty-handed. Or god forbid, with Starbucks. You were supposed to be doing data entry, for fucks sake. And if you were to so much as smile at one of your coworkers she would pop out of nowhere to tell you off for slacking, like a damn high-school hall monitor.

Anytime you tried to voice your grievances to your manager, they'd give you a sympathetic smile. What she says goes, they'd awkwardly relay, she's the boss. 

There was nothing you could do. She wielded all the power and flaunted it outright. During the mandatory bullying and harassment presentation she even singled you out, asking by name if you had any questions or if there was anything you 'didn't understand'. Message received. 

Today was no different.

She'd sent a pristine pile of cardstock flying out of your hands and onto the floor, tsking at you for being clumsy when she'd purposefully swiped at them. You had to get on your knees and meticulously pick up each one, all the while she loomed over you, a smug smile on her annoyingly perfect face.

Of course, you had to sacrifice your break to grab Ellie her own lunch from across town. While your coworkers got to enjoy their downtime in the breakroom you'd seen the inside of twice. You were exhausted, dropping her food off at her desk while she pretended you weren't there, but you couldn't even be bothered to care. That's not to say you didn't feel her eyes burning into your backside when you left.

What you didn't see was the furrow in her brows, concern lacing her heated gaze when she saw you were empty-handed. She knew for a fact she told you to get something for yourself when she handed over her card. Strike number one of the day. Not taking care of yourself was unacceptable. 

She kept a close eye on you through her one-way office window, which was easy considering she had your desk moved directly into her line of sight. You were hunched over your desk, periodically wiping at your tired eyes to keep focused.

Then your shit-stick fellow interns had the gall to shirk their duties onto you. Like rolling around in daddy's money made them incapable of using a fax machine. And you, sweet, sweet you, had the nerve to weakly smile and say no problem. Ellie's eyes narrowed, aggressively chewing on her straw like an angry gremlin. Oh, there's a fucking problem all right. Strike number two.

As the clock neared five-thirty, you were nearly home free. If only office fuckboy extraordinaire hadn't waltzed over to you. What happened next made Ellie see red.

He made you blush. Oh, hell no.

Faster than you could kindly reject Brad's offer to take you out, the door to Ellie's office swung open. The force smacked it harshly into the adjoining wall.

She dismissed everyone for the day, and in the same breath barked out your name. "In my office," her tone left no room for disagreements. "Now."

Brad sucked in his teeth, offering a 'good luck' before high tailing it out of there along with the rest of the office. You could already hear whispers of your name, musings of what you did this time to warrant such an explosive reaction. Nobody envied you.

With shaky limbs, you stood, cowering under the weight of her glare. She held open the door, forcing you to brush against her suit-clad chest. The click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sit," she commanded. But clicked her tongue when you slid into your usual seat in front of her desk. "No, not there."

You looked around in confusion, thinking you'd misheard her over your thunderous heartbeat. She looked expectant. Not to mention pissed.

But a cursory scan of the room confirms your thoughts. There were no chairs besides Ellie's, and the one you occupied.

You were used to her outlandish demands, but this was a whole new level. She was being difficult just to be difficult. Did she expect you to sit criss-cross apple sauce at her feet?

You pause, reigning in your irritation. "I don't understand. Ms. Williams, is—“

Angling your neck in her direction, your speech falters. She's much closer than you anticipated. Leaning down, her face was mere inches from your own. Your cheeks heat, and you're momentarily struck by her looks from up close.

It pains you to admit it, after everything she's put you through. The very person who makes you dread waking up in the morning can make your tummy flutter at the same beat. She was good-looking, objectively speaking. With the whole freckle-faced, green-eyed thing going on. 

Plus she smelled good. Ugh.

Ellie's jaw clenches. "No. I don't think you do."

Before you can respond, probably with an unprofessional what the fuck, she's yanking you up out of your seat. You sputter, skin burning from the contact of her hand wrapped around your elbow. She uses it to maneuver you like a rag doll.

She purposefully steps forward as you stumble off-balanced and careen into her. Just when you think things couldn't get any stranger, Ellie abandons her hold on your arm, hooking around your waist instead, pressing your entire front into hers.

Her arms cage into you on either side of the desk, and it digs into your backside. "Your behavior today has been unacceptable. I should write you up—" 

Something in you snaps.

"Then do it!" You cut in. You'd heard this exact spiel a hundred times over. And despite her numerous threats, your record remained spotless. "I am so sick of this. What'd I even do to make you hate me so much?!"

Momentarily, you seem to stun her. Weakly she mutters, "I don't hate you."

"Yeah right," you scoff, throwing propriety out the window.

Both of you were crossing lines, and you had to accept that you'd likely be out of a job come morning. She was the boss, after all. Blinking away an onslaught of tears, you focus over her shoulder at the beige walls.

She doesn't let you avoid her gaze for long. To your dismay, both her hands grip your face, forcing you to meet her frantic eyes.

"I- fuck, I don't. Seriously. I just," her voice actually cracked. Panic gripped her clear as day, a stark contrast to her typical nonchalant persona. It kept you from stomping on her foot and high tailing it out of there, if only just to see this through and get some long-awaited answers. "I never meant to— oh, fuck it."

Her chapped lips crashed into yours and time stopped. She was actually kissing you.  

Frozen and wide-eyed, you see firsthand the way she melts. Her eyes flutter shut, pressing into you as close as possible so that you're forced backward — a few pens clattering off the desk

Never in your wildest dreams did you foresee this outcome. But for some inexplicable reason, you kiss her back.

Despite your shock, or the questions on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes shut, and your lips finally move against hers. A deep moan is pulled from the depths of her chest and into the slick heat of your mouth.

Grabbing at the lapels on Ellie's suit, you're pleased by how she bends to your whims, arching into you. Her hands wander, a timid quality you would've never attributed to her. She gives your lips chase when you pull away with a wet pwap.

"Why does this feel so, fuck-" you dazedly pant into her spit-slicked mouth. "So good."

"I can make you feel even better," she rushes out, thumbs massaging mindless circles into your hips. She looks drunk, glassy-eyed and flushed pink. "If you let me. Please."

Please. What a trip. You had half a mind to search the room for hidden prank-show cameras.

This new power you seem to hold over her thrums in your veins. It overshadows any lingering doubts, muting the little voice in your head that says this is a bad idea. Instead, you give into the giddy feeling, letting it rush to your head like fizzy soda bubbles. 

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, you nod. "Then touch me."

Her eyes light up like a kid on christmas, and her lips stretch into a toothy smile. It's crooked—but hell, is it cute.

Ellie hitches your legs around her hips and pulls your weight into her arms, all the while lavishing your neck with deep sucks. Mindlessly she says things like sweet girl, and even a succession of garbled thank you's. It throws you for a loop; but you can’t deny the way it makes you ache.

Kicking the rolling chair out of the way, she takes you both down to the carpeted floor, laying you gently beneath her. After getting the green light, her hesitation melts away.

Slipping under your shirt, she hungrily palms your tits beneath your bra. The tips of her fingers are calloused, but that fact only seems to heighten your pleasure when they pinch your nipple. With the hand other cradling your skull, she licks into your mouth.

Distracted by her sweet taste, you're caught off guard when Ellie jams a knee between your thighs, forcing out a squeaky, embarrassing moan.

"Fuck," she detaches with a pop, sounding awestruck. Resting her forehead against yours, she peers down. If only she could burn the image of you grinding against her, she would; driven further mad by the feeling of your hot cunt, searing even through the layers separating you.

Suddenly she sits up, shedding her suit jacket and rolling her sleeves to the elbow. She's the picture of sin. Somehow you never realized she was so toned— and, is that a tattoo?

You follow her lead, wriggling out of your blouse and tossing it aside. She helps you with the rest of your clothes, eagerly dragging down your skirt and leaving you in just a pair of cotton panties and a bra. You shy under her unwavering stare, not used to feeling so seen.

"You're unreal," she breathes, resting her hand on your tummy. Her stare lingers on your clothed pussy, the wetness seeping through making it mold to your puffy lips. A proud smirk appears on her face. "You're soaking, fuck. Do ya' always get this wet?"

You squirm, grabbing hold of her wrist. Not to stop her, just with the intention to anchor yourself. "Ms. Will-"

"Ellie," she corrects. She splays her long fingers and slides downwards, stopping to fully cup your heat. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whine, feverish with need. Ellie glides your underwear down your legs, knocking your knees together and pushing them toward your chest for easier access. Once off, she stuffs them into her pocket with zero shame.

Hunkering down, she grips your inner thighs, thumbs maddeningly close to where you're throbbing for her. Splaying them wide for her viewing pleasure, she sucks in a breath and the first sight of your glistening cunt.

"Knew your pussy would be cute," her husky voice drawls. She spreads your sticky folds with her index and middle finger, a string of slick keeping them connected. Exposing your flushed clit and twitching hole, she puckers her lips and with a puh, spits directly inside. Fucking hell— your hips buck, brain short-circuiting.

She doesn't let you get far. Ellie just chuckles, pinning your lower belly with her forearm. Now that she had you like this, there was no running away. Not when you'd only gotten a taste of the pleasure she intended to bestow.

She massages your opening with her thumb, just dipping the tip inside to ease you into it, feeling like sweet torture. Your core gets all cramped up from clenching around nothing, winding yourself up up up. Finally, she slips two of those long fingers inside, knuckle deep.

Scrambling for purchase, your grip finds her wrist like a bracelet. It seems to be your go-to, and you carve out a permanent place there with your nails. So slowly it aches, she bottoms out before tentatively thrusting.

"Oh m'god," you babble, eyes rolling. "oh m'god, you're inside me. I can feel you inside—!"

Ellie shudders, both at your words and the feel of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around her. Taking a deep breath is a mistake; she just gets a lungful of your heady scent. Combined with the feeling of you soaking her hand, her eyes full on roll to the back of her head

"Jesus." Her palm slips up your stomach, taking in every tense of muscle as an orgasm winds up in your core.

Tucking her fingers up in search of your special little spot, Ellie prods a bit before bingo — you clench up tight. You can't think, let alone speak. You can't recall a time you'd ever come so fast, but every curl of her fingers has you climbing up higher and higher to that peak.

Needing to be closer, Ellie plants her free forearm next to your head, upping the pace with her other hand. It grants her a front-row seat to every micro-expression you make, and she tailors her movements to what has you reacting best.

"Look at me," she murmurs, nose grazing your cheek. It takes a moment to comply, her voice sounding far away like you're underwater. "Good girl."

"El," you gasp, legs beginning to shake. Your eyes locked, begging for something.

"I know," she hushes, pecking your lips. She watches with bated breath the way your face crumples when her palm fits against your aching clit. It's just what you need, and your thighs keep her trapped there, grinding back and forth.

In a matter of seconds that feel like a lifetime, you reach your breaking point, cumming around her fingers. Every spasm pushes out a wave of stringy-slick, dribbling down her curled wrist and onto the floor. You don't envy the poor soul who will have to clean it up.

Ellie gently eases you back down to earth, shushing you softly. You can't recall when she slipped out, but from the corner of your eye, you see her stuff them into her mouth.

"Shit," you mutter. As the haze of lust starts to clear up, regret takes its place. You just let your boss, who gets their rocks off making you miserable, finger you on the floor of her office. God dammit--

"Hey," she says gently. It's the opposite reaction you're expecting. Instead of kicking you out, she sits you up, slipping her big jacket around you. When you're decent, she grabs and cradles your hand in two of hers. "I meant what I said. I don't hate you. The opposite, actually."

"Wha-" at first you tilt your head in confusion. Then you really take her in. The shifty eyes, the way she’s pulling at her fingers, those red capped ears of hers. Everything clicks. Oh. "Oh."

It never escaped you how she never paid anyone else the same level of attention. That even at its worst, she never truly hurt you. Just menaced you enough to become a fixture in your life.

"Yeah," she trails off.

"If you're serious, I need you to promise me something."

Ellie's gaze snaps to yours, completely moon-eyed. Reinvigorated, she laces your fingers together, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Anything."

"One, no more bullshit."

She winces but readily agrees. "Of course."

"And two," you continue before she can jump the gun. "You take me out on a real date."

This gets you a real kiss. "I'll fly you to fucking Paris, whatever you want. Money is no obstacle."

You laugh against her lips. Jesus, this girl. "How about dinner and a movie to start."

"Fuck yeah. Sounds perfect."

For a few minutes, you bask in the moment, exchanging kisses before beginning to redress. Balancing with a hand on the desk to get your shoes on, you pause, suddenly remembering something.

“Can we circle back to the seat thing?” You ask, referencing her ridiculous demand from earlier. “Where were you even going with that?”

It takes a few seconds for your question to register, her mind and body still fuzzy. Then she flushes red, from her neck to the tips of her ears. Was she blushing? Now you were beyond intrigued.

“The desk,” she stutters. Your big scary boss actually stutters. “I was gonna, you know,” she clears her throat as if to dislodge the words. 

Your grin is cheshire. “No, I don’t.”

“Like in the movies n’ stuff,” it’s as if it pains her to admit this. You eat it up. “I was gonna clear off the desk and make you sit there. It was supposed to be... sexy.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. “By 'clear' do you mean toss onto the floor?" You ask, eyeing the very breakable cutter on her desk. The image makes you laugh even harder, bellyaching. "You know that would’ve scared the shit out of me, right?”

Her pout deepens. Ellie buries her face into your neck, muffling her voice. “Shut up.”

[gaypirate420]

Captain hook x gn!fairy reader headcannons pls 🙏🙏🙏

This man has been tormenting me since I was 12 and I need more of him.

OLD MAN TIMES UPON YE!

Glittery kisses // James Hook

Captain James Hook x gn!fairy!reader.

A/N:It's been a while since I wrote for captain babygirl so I'm sorry if it's ooc.

Fluff.

Not very fond of you at first, all fairies in Neverland are with Peter so he doesn't fancy the new shiny dot that flies above his ship at times on the night.

Color him surprised after finding out you're human sized.

He can talk to fairies, but not many want to talk to him, he doesn't blame them though he isn't the nicest to be around and his treatment of the Neverland fauna hasn't been good form.

But truth be told you've been eyeing the Captain for a while, you found his odd encounters with Peter funny and in your mischief you wanted to get closer.

You flew above his ship, waiting to catch a glimpse of him, some nights when he did sleep you peeked through the window to find him asleep on his desk, you've never knew that the horrid pirate captain Peter told stories about to look so...human.

You landed on the deck of the ship, his men drawing their swords or pointing their guns. He stepped closer to you.

"Reveal your intentions. Are you with Pan?"

All of his men can see your mouth moving but the sound that came out was the song jingle of bells, but he could understand every world.

He finds pride in being the only one that can understand you, a sense of mild possessiveness at knowing your charms and wits are only for him.

He did find a problem quickly, the fairy dust that flutter out of your gorgeous wings, he has to sweep the floors of his cabin and deck every time after your visits, those that became more and more frequent.

Speaking of your wings, he adores them, he's seen fairies and their wings, but yours are bigger, better to appreciate the details of.

You found he has a talent for drawing and his latest muse has been you.

"Is that meant to be me, James?" You asked as you flew above his head, he closes his notebook quickly, looking at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

"Cheeky thing, peeking over my shoulder, what happened to my privacy!? How uncivil of you!" He says quickly, trying not to appear flustered and panicked. You chuckled loudly, the sound like a wind chimes in a soft breeze, his expression softens and he only stares at you.

After you two started being officially together he dots on you a lot.

He cherries every trinket you find for him, a rock, leaves, feathers, random jewelry you find deep in the beach.

He's always on for a walk through the beach, or those secret spots on the heart of the island that somehow missed his sharp cartography skills.

The kisses. He loves your kisses.

Your lips felt so soft, like being graced with a feather.

The soft glitter that glosses your lips and ends up staining his face or lips. He loves it, his men at first would giggle among themselves until he gave them a stern look and a warning swing of his hook at the mast, threatening the next time it won't be buried onto wood.

Fairy dance moment with him. Not sure if he's flying because you're strong enough to lift his weight or if his thoughts have turned happy enough for the fairy dust to lift him into the air.

A/N: MY SHAYLAAAA UGGHH MY SHAYLAAAA, PLEASE keep requesting things for Captain Hook oh how I miss my wifeeeeee, I keep opening the James Hook tag and it's the Twink from D4 (no hate, I just want the old man). (Divider 1) (Divider 2)

[little-glitter-kitten]

I Think The Apple's Rotten Right To The Core Pt 3

Prologue: As your brother, Caleb always took great pride in the fact that he was always the first to notice the little things when it came to you. When you were hurt, when you were sick, when you were lying or keeping a secret. What will Caleb do when he notices just how much his precious little adopted sister has grown? Can he fight the filthy, rotten feelings threatening to ruin all he holds dear?

(Caleb x Reader, no use of 'Y/N, AFAB reader, size difference.)

TW: Pseudo-incest, dub-con, somnophilia, possessive Caleb, Obsessed Caleb, Yandere Caleb.

CALEBS POV:

Caleb hung his head, pretending to look chastised as Grandma Josephine quietly murmured her grievances, lest Mrs Lee, who was currently sitting at the kitchen table, overhear them.

"...you know what a busybody she is, Caleb." Caleb, doing his best to look contrite, nodded along. "She likes to gossip and tends to over-exaggerate the facts."

He had zoned out and began listing off the spices he noticed in the walk in pantry Josephine had dragged him into. He gave a simple "hmm" in agreement, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to be over.

"Besides, you and your sister are both adults now. Wrestling around like that..." The old woman scoffed and shook her head. "Mrs Lee would have no qualms about claiming it was more than just innocent wrestling between siblings."

Caleb sighed, bored with the conversation. "Would anyone even believe that senile old woman, though?"

"Yes, they would" Josephine's gaze hardened. "and we don't need to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Caleb nodded, before Josephine excused herself to go and attend to their guest. Staying in the pantry for another moment, pretending to busy himself by rearranging the spices, he smirked.

Grandma was always so worried about how people perceived them. Determined that the three of them keep a low profile and play happy little family. But Caleb always did have a bit of a problem with his Oppositional Defiant Disorder and coveted that which was deemed off-limits.

If only Grandma knew...

If she knew that when he arrived yesterday and laid eyes on you that he couldn't help but admire your body in a way that no older brother (adoptive or not) should view their sister.

If only she knew that when he held you last night, his hand that held your phone in his pocket covertly rubbed the straining erection that made itself known when you had laid on his chest. It hadn't been his intention but when he inadvertently ran his finger tips over the head of his aching cock, it had felt too good to stop. And you were completely oblivious anyway, so what was the harm, right?

This morning may have been a step too far, however...

He reasoned that finding that pair of lacy, white panties on the floor was a sign from the universe. A sign that it was okay. Because if it was wrong, such a gift wouldn't have landed in his lap, would it?

Looking out the pantry door and into the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was a photograph and the two of you as adolescents, hanging on the wall. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, protecting you. The day before that photo was taken, you had come home crying after being relentlessly verbally tormented by a group of boys at school.

"They're monsters." You cried into his shoulder as you recalled how they bullied you about your tiny size.

"Don't worry, Mèimei, no monsters will harm you so long as I'm around." He promised.

Caled smiled to himself at the realisation that, even after all these years, he had kept that promise. His smile dropped, however, when he began to ask himself...

"Am I the monster, now? The very same monster I vowed to protect her from?"

Feeling the bile rise in his throat, he looked away from the photograph and turned his focus to the bowl of apples sitting right in front of him. Needing to settle his stomach, he plucked one from the bowl, a grunt of disgust passing his lips when his finger when straight through the skin.

"Rotten..." He muttered, turning up his face in disgust. Turning around the half-blackened apple in his hands, he look at the other apples in the bowl.

"A rotten apple spoils the whole barrel." Jospehine would always say, discarding every single one after finding one rotten piece.

Caleb looked at the ones that his rotten piece had touched and sure enough, their skins too, were beginning to soften and crack, leaving gaping wounds.

Would he be discarded if Grandma knew how deep his rotten, perverted ways went, out of fear he would damage you in the process?

The light in the pantry suddenly flicked on, shielding his now sensitive eyes, he covered them and groaned.

"Sorry." You giggled at his reaction. "Grandma sent me in to check on you."

Caleb held back a scoff. Of course she sent YOU in to check. Like some sort of test to make sure he would behave himself. Josephine played the sweet old Granny card so well, but he knew better.

"I'm fine." He grunted, unable to meet your eyes.

"What did she have you doing in here, anyway?"

Caleb stayed silent for a moment before answering. "Rearranging the spices."

"Right." You smirk. "But I caught you having a snack instead."

"It's hungry work." He let out a slight chuckle. "Come on, let's so grab some of those biscuits before Mrs Lee shoves them all in her handbag."

Hiding a giggle, you followed him out of the pantry to sit with the two elderly women and chit-chat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day passed painfully slowly. Caleb feeling all too aware of when his eyes lingered on you for a touch too long and determined to look anyway but those bare legs that seemed to beckon for his attention. Eventually night fell and you and Grandma had retired to your respective rooms for the night.

Caleb stood on the landing, facing his open bedroom door. Through it, he could see through his open bedroom windows and the lightning that illuminated the hills many miles away. The storm was rapidly approaching and he knew, no matter how much you'd deny it, you still suffered from severe astraphobia.

Slowly, he crept his way down the hallway and to your bedroom door. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up alone and scared as the thumber rumbled around you.

"I'm doing this to protect her." He told himself. He was lying and he knew it.

Opening the door, he crept inside the darkened bedroom. Despite the fact that he couldn't see, he knew this room so well that he knew how many steps it was before he would have to stop to avoid bumping into the edge of your bed.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room through your thin curtains. Caleb caught a brief glance of your sleeping form that made his breath catch in his throat. Due to the humidity of the encroaching storm, your prone form lay curled up on your side on top of the blankets, clad in nothing but your lacy dark blue bra and matching underwear.

He swallows harshly, his gulp echoing about the quiet room right before a distant rumble of thunder can be heard. He hears the rustle of bed sheets as you groan in your sleep, the noise starting you even in slumber.

"Shhh..." He consoles you gently, crawling over you to lie down beside you and curls up behind you. "Gēge is here."

He is painfully aware of his rapidly growing erection and the fact that the soft curve of your lace covered ass sits just mere centimetres from it. Listening to the soft sounds of your steady breathing calms him despite the internal conflict happening in his mind.

"A rotten apple spoils the whole barrel." He heard Grandma's voice caution him again.

'But...' He tries to reason 'Even an apple that has been infected by another's rotten touch can still edible. All you have to do is cut off the rotten section. So long as it doesn't run too deep, the apple can still be considered pure.'

With that, he makes up his mind. So long as he doesn't go too deep, he won't tarnish you...at least not too badly.

[bougiebutchbinch]

still baffling to me how certain fans heard shen jiu say 'Even if all of this could be redone from the beginning, in the end, the conclusion would remain the same. My heart is full of malice, my insides hatred and resentment. Today, Luo Binghe wishes for me to die horribly, and I only have myself to blame' and.... believed him at face value?????

When he was literally saying that to try and get Yue Qingyuan away from him so he wouldn't be caught up in his mess???

Like - 'Get far away, as far as you can. From now on, never again involve yourself with a thing like Shen Qingqiu.'

This man is an ex-slave overflowing with jealousy and hatred for everyone and everything including himself. He is desperate to be considered an equal with others, but still sees himself (deep down) as a thing. Even when others do see him as one of them, within his own mind, he is always lesser!! He thinks he's continuously being looked down on and has to scrabble like a rat to catch up, because that was his entire childhood! He values his pride above his own life and happiness because pride is the only thing he had left and even that was taken from him! The torment nexus is of his own creation, and it's tragic and beautiful! And he is a lying liar who lies to everyone including himself?????

He thinks of himself as doomed and irreparable! He bites every hand that feeds him for having the audacity to show him pity, but also wishes (as he says to YQY in that one scene!) that other people would show him kindness first. Even if (I think) he wouldn't know what to do with it and would mistrust it terribly!

He is just the most blatant 'problematique abuse victim who pushes everyone around him until they snap and start to despise him because he cannot fathom a world in which he is not loathed and seen as less-than human'.

And he absolutely could have a well-written and believable in-character redemption arc. He's a horrible nasty person who made horrible nasty choices and I think that if just a few things beyond his control had been, um, written differently (i.e., Liu Qingge; Yue Qingyuan actually explaining during the cave scene...) his whole life would've taken a different and much happier track. Despite, yes, him still being a self-sabotaging abusive cunt. That's the FUN OF HIM, dammit.

But alas, he is but a character in a novel within a novel, where he is tragically doomed by his own rancid personality! And that is fun too!