#i’m like a child without a leash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madaqueue · 3 days

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TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

#not 100% happy with this one but i've been editing it for a week and if i don't post it now i never will!!!!!!#q writes #oneshot #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk geto #geto fluff

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soullessdianthus · 1 year

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Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked.

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir.

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir.

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together.

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable.

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want?

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better.

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you.

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts!

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe.

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg.

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

#cod #cod mwii #codmw2 #request #reader insert #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #perv!konig #perv!könig

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rememberwren · 2 months

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Ghoap x civilian!reader who comes home from work in a teary panic attack. Simon and Johnny obviously rush to her and try to calm her down. When asked what happened she explained how she was SA’d or harassed by a man on her way home. Simon and or Johnny are SEETHING with anger that someone would dare lay a hand on their girl, but they do their best to stay calm in front of her, silently agreeing to each other that they’ll find that son of a bitch later. Their main priority is to take care of her. One or two of them gets her in a bath, washes her hair and just overall being an amazing fluffy boyfriend/s while soothing her and kissing away her tears. If only one of the boys is doing that the other one could be pacing around the house seething with anger, trying to find out who that man was and where they can find him. Idk up to you, just a random thought :)

(This goes without saying but you obviously don’t have to write this if you are uncomfortable with the situation. I just love fics where the boys are lovingly (and reasonably) protective of reader. Love your fics btw thank you for being such an awesome writer💖💖)

CW: recent non-con.

“Tell me again how you’ll do it,” you mutter, half asleep with your arms on the ledge of the bathtub, chin resting on your folded hands. Goosebumps have bloomed along your shaking limbs. Johnny reaches out and lays the back of three fingers against your shoulder, feeling the chill of your skin. He reaches out and turns the faucet back on, letting the hot water run and run until you stop shivering.

“Slow,” says Ghost from where he’s perched on the edge of the vanity. His arms are crossed, fists tucked out of your sight. “That’s what it comes down to. It’ll be slow. He’ll be alive for most of it, alive well past the moment when he wishes he weren’t.”

You give a sleepy smile. It wavers, suspended for an endless moment on your pretty face, and then it falls, tears filling your eyes. You shift away from the ledge and dip beneath the water, hair floating up toward the surface as you stay under until your lungs burn. They wait. When you come back up, gasping for breath, you can pretend that the water on your face is from the tub.

Johnny turns the hot water off. He hands you the washcloth again though you have scrubbed yourself raw already; a well worn routine. He goes to add a dollop of your favorite soap—the kind that smells like almonds—but you stop him and ask for the soap that they use.

“I want to smell like you,” you say, eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Johnny reaches for the proper soap and squirts a health dose onto the washcloth. He winces when you shove the washcloth below the water and between your legs.

“Don’t, love,” he says. “Yer going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m already hurt,” you snap, the tenor of your voice fragile, friable. You take a deep, trembling breath and let it out. Then you say: “Tell me again.”

“SlowIy,” Ghost says, patient. He has answered this question in various gory forms for the last two hours. “I want him aware, for as long as possible before I kill him.”

“We,” says Johnny firmly.

“We,” Ghost amends, nodding.

“What’s stopping you?” you ask morosely.

“Just a dog waiting to be let off the leash,” says Ghost.

The washcloth between your thighs slows, then stops. You let it float to the surface of the tub and reach out a pruning hand towards Ghost who slips off the vanity and onto his knees on the wet tiles, slipping his hand into yours. He helps you stand, your legs shaking, unused to the cramped position the tub demanded of you.

Johnny is there with a towel. He presses the water from your hair and wraps you up, gentle against your chafed skin. They help you into bed, pulling back the sheets and tucking you in like you haven’t been since you were a child. The tears come back, and this time you have nothing to blame them on. Nothing. They drip down the sides of your face towards your temples, but Johnny catches every single one.

“Ghost?”

He turns, head cocked, ear towards you while he waits for your word.

You say, sleepily: “Go get him.”

#ghoap x reader #tw: noncon #request

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blqstar · 4 months

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HI BABES<3!!! Can you please please please, write something for a sub!yan Izuku and mean reader 🤭, literally my favorite thing to read! But if not, I just wanna say I love your writing!

ofc, poota butt! and thank you so much, i’m glad you love my writing. i hope this is worth your while, love 🤍

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ CONTENT WARNINGS: nsfw (17+) , yandere themes , sub!yan!izuku , dom!mean reader , oral (f!recieving) , mention of anal fingering , zuku being delulu and v obsessive , honestly not proofread lmaoo

pro!hero izuku midoriya. majority know him as a strong and reliable leading figure, with his strength and intelligence being respected equally. but the man you knew him to be was the total opposite. here he kneels in front of you, lapping up your cunt with your juices, never taking his pleading eyes off of you.

izuku was a total creep. always watching you through darkened corners and small windows, following you everywhere you went no matter if other bystanders watched him in suspicion. he was a major stalker. and with being the obsessive freak he is, you wanted to mess with his head so bad, to the point where he completely crumbles to the slightest amount of attention you give him.

you wanted to use him for all his worth. izuku doesn’t care if you’re the nicest child of god or the meanest bitch on earth. all he wants is for you to notice him, acknowledge him— be something worth your while. And what if you spent that ‘while’ making him spread his legs and finger himself while you watched? who is he to try and stop you?

if he can’t be with you, at least he can make himself useful. if you say that all he’s good for is eating that pussy of yours, who is he to oblige? as long as he’s good for something.

it was just fun and games at first. using the stalker, letting him trip over himself by the fact that you were actually paying attention to him. but the more and more these activities kept going on, the more and more you found yourself becoming fond of the man.

your conscience told you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings was just dead wrong. but it was just too entertaining for you to run away. who else would let you treat them like a little doggy on a leash? no one else but him. that’s why you felt that izuku was a more…special case that needed to be explored to the lowest depths. for your satisfaction, of course.

“i promise to show you i’m worth somethin’ to you….please…don’t leave me, i won’t be able..to live without you.” he says, his hot breath hitting your lips as izuku continues to slurp away at your clit.

your legs shake at the hot breeze, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head. you can only sigh at his words, pushing his head down a little more.

he savors every swipe of his pink tongue over your abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he thinks in the slightest that it might be.

if it wasn’t good, you woulda left ‘em already.

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ouchthathurts · 6 months

Text

❝ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Wanderer/Scaramouch x You

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 2.3k

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ These feelings may be too human for this puppet

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ I gotta write more Genshin stuff!

“Are you okay?”

A call out to the name he’s become so familiar to has begun to eat at his heart with your voice sinking their sharp teeth into the flesh he does not have; you tear to him to pieces with your smile and leave him like he tattered doll once finished with him.

A fight breaks out, one that calls the attention to his fears of abandonment and urges him to leave whilst the other yearns for your company and shackles him to the floor with a call of your voice. You’ve come to ask if you two would spend time studying together, he’s visited your home plenty of times and finds himself gnawing at the leash he put there that brings him over to you without any say of his reason.

The fist his hand was balled in as he held his head up, there was something that had almost brought him to tears as you asked him such a question. “Of course I’m okay.” Yet, there was something that gnawed at him as he looked at your face, you had looked at him in ways that showed he was making you feel for him almost like a child.

“It’s just quiet in here…” The young puppet knew if he could not have something to conceal the sounds of his tapping feet, his breathing that became breathy, and the pounding in his chest that had begun to drive him crazy without how it bled into his ears. A hope in his head that you would not acknowledge the way he fidgets with how both your shoulders touched as you sat the shared desk.

Wanderer scolded himself, if he couldn’t even handle your shoulders against his what could’ve made him believe in actually pursuing a relationship with you. Why would you even want a relationship with him? The way he behaves akin to an antsy child must make you feel like a parent. Why would you ever think of him outside of just studying with him?

In spite of those thoughts there’s a desire in his heart, to sew that smile into your lips forever, his eyes swiftly close as he turns his face back to his book whilst you return to yours, “I'm glad, it seemed like something was on your mind back there.” You spoke your concerns, your half-lidded eyes turned to his with a look in your eyes that were felt throughout Wanderer’s body even without looking at you.

“I’ll turn on some music.” You assured as you got up from your seat and made your way over to your music case. There was this feeling to pulling you back to him and hopefully meld his material in your warm skin. You looked through the music, your fingers peeling through and getting some out before finding one song, a large vinyl is placed on your record player.

The music that greets Wanderer is a soft piano, a warm and light guitar, and some orchestral music's picking up in parts to lull to the puppet. You turn back to Wanderer, “I hope you like it, I often listen to this when I’m studying alone.” You explain as you make your way back to your seat, putting your hands in your lap before turning your head to meet with the young man next to you. “Are you ready for us to continue studying?” The way you questioned him, there was a softness in his voice that he had yearned since he was brought into this world.

You’d go out of your way to make a puppet feel more serene?

Out of the kindness of your heart?

The puppet pondered before scoffing at such a thought: Only a fool would believe such bright and fulfilled eyes as ones that were meant to bring joy into this world while he was being tortured by the sight of your benevolence.

A couple of candles burned softly around the two of you, had you always glowed this lovingly under the light? There was something being highlighted in your face that had only made Wanderer more lost in what he was witnessing.

Pleasing? There were features you had that made the puppet believe it was the archon’s punishment to him for having feelings.

Captivated? Of course he was, just the mere presence of you in the same room had left him feeling the warmth he had been longing for since creation.

Bewitched? A spell casted on him, he had only done to himself by allowing himself to gaze upon perfection, candles burning him wouldn’t turn him away from your beauty.

The thought of you set him ablaze with the gaze he was met with once his eyes begrudgingly made their way towards yours. Oh dear. There’s this swelling where his heart would be, he finds his ears are hot with your glazed over eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“Is there something on your mind, Wanderer?” You find your hand slowly coming from your lap to your cheek, flustered by the astonishment in his eyes, your index finger tapped your cheek as you awaited an answer. You could’ve killed him with such a move. There was something with how you always knew where to place your hands that would highlight you, whether it was your face, hands, or your figure. In awe, he’d fallow them to where they landed and paid close attention the area.

“N…No. I’m just...” You found your lips parting a bit, with your brilliance you would be able to say something that he couldn’t think of no matter how many years he had spent in Teyvat. “I’m just lost in how to solve this problem…I’m scared of how I’ll do for this upcoming exam.” Schooling was another debt he’d be paying for the archon, he worked among his fellow peers, yet the only one who he decided to talk to was you. You were a late arrival into the class, thus you both would have to work together to catch up with the rest of your fellow classmates.

“Oh please, you’ll do perfect. You always do.” You had admired him; with the way you spoke of how often you would see his scores and his answers it was no surprise you saw him as one who was always more than a couple steps of ahead of your peers. “I don’t think you actually need to study with someone sometimes, y’know? You’re so smart, you could do an exam as soon as it’s called out.”

To be praised by you was one that could ease his pains when the world turned his back on him. A long day of being delt a hand that left him as an outsider to those who interacted with him, he would yearn to come to your home and lay his head in your lap and be coddled like a child. The mere object he was, he loved so deeply to be deemed as one whose heart was as sensitive as a porcelain antique.

“Please don’t be so humble…” Wanderer spoke, your name taking it’s time in his mouth before he begrudgingly let it go to, “Without your help I wouldn’t have neary gotten this far, it’s almost admirable how much work you put into projects and honestly, you’re a lot smarter than the rest of them.” Wanderer effused, although his tone was hidden by his nonchalant one, you imagined him babbling happily about you and couldn’t help but find your face flushed.

“You really think so?” Without missing a beat he swooned, “I know so.”

There was something about those words that caused your heart to pound incessantly against your rib cage, desperately trying to escape the confines to profess its feelings towards the one the pounded alongside it inside of Wanderer’s chest.

Endearing was what you call such a moment, as he held his gaze with yours with a flush on his face that called attention against his pale skin, he had found himself so utterly flustered by the situation and all that has left him that he looks to you with large eyes and quivering lips as he found his eyes struggling to stay on your doe like ones.

The way they pierced him, he found himself bounded to chair beneath him with his knees buckling and his fingers digging into the cushion as his neck began to ache from turning to stare at you for so long.

The music had pulled on his ears, a pinkness beginning as he finds this moment becoming more and more confined by all that surrounded him. Whether it was the candles that brought a new light to your features, or the music so low, or even the way he found your arms so close to his that made both your hearts skip a beat.

Breath hitching as you both found yourself opening your mouth to get much needed oxygen, so entranced by this moment to forget breathing in your nose. Wanderer found himself matching your breathing pattern, he had no need to breath in all his years of living and yet the moment he’s alone with ou he feels his throat closing up with the closeness of one another.

The room was spinning, the sound of music was cradling the two of you in this moment as it conducted the thoughts that came through both your minds whilst staring into each other's eyes. It felt as if there was something coming, a warmness that the Wanderer hadn’t known the name of as his eyes darted to your parted lips as he followed your breathing.

You had found yourself looking down at his lips as well, soon finding yourself lost in the moment alongside him, you leaned in with a string brining you over to the puppet as he hadn’t taken the time your lips getting closer to his as all he could do was try to breath alongside you.

To feel what you felt in that moment was to align himself with you perfectly.

As you brought them closer all Wanderer could do was began to keep the cushion in grasps, almost tearing it apart like a kitten, he found his lips quivering as he felt your breath against them causing him to feel an overwhelming number of emotions. The way they had begun to swirl throughout his body and pull his body one towards the other had caused his mind to spiral.

“...erer!”

The puppet’s eyes closed, he finds the back of his head and neck ache with the harshness of your wooden flooring clashing against him, there was something that had caused his face to become engulfed into a redness as he finds himself slowly bringing himself up with his left arm supporting his leaning and his right being brought up to his face before being met with you knelt beside him.

“Wanderer! Are you okay?”

Your tone filled with worry as you looked to him with fret filling your eyes, Wanderer finds himself a bit embarrassed by all that his happened, a bit being an understatement as he finds himself looking the other way to avoid your eyes. “Of course, I am.” The puppet slowly stood, “Be careful, you took a hard fall.” You insisted whilst you reached for his hat, getting up alongside him as you handed it towards him.

“Do you need an icepack? Is your head okay?” You questioned him with care in your tone, worriedness as if you had struck him when he inflicted this on himself, he couldn’t handle such a tone. You were so considerate as you kept apologizing before pushing his hat to him and going to get some ice for him.

Wanderer wondered if you’d still feel this way if you found out he was a puppet.

You came back with a clear bag of ice and handed it off to him as your eyes filled with fear of it all. “I think I should be heading off now.” The words that shot from his mouth he wanted to take back, as he found your heart shattering in your eyes. The look on your face, no matter how hard you tried to hide it, had called for execution and torture beyond inhuman.

It was what he believed he deserved for lying to you about wanting to leave.

“I think that’s our time, Wanderer.” The way you spoke with an ease when departing had lacerated all his yearns for profession to you, like a God, he’d fall to his knees and hold your legs begging for more time with you. The wanderer finds the time with you short, while he would say a couple more minutes, his mind would loop with the pleadings of years to be spent alongside you.

However, today he would collect his things, “It seems so.” The detached tone that shielded all the ache of leaving you for the night. Something beat against you in your chest as you so desperately wanted him to stay alongside you. Yet, you bid him farewell, thanking him and apologizing about “Having the wrong idea.”

Wanderer shook his head, “There is no need for you to apologize.” The puppet was glad for the darkness out, you could not witness the blush of his embarrassment from not being able to handle a simple kiss from you. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea of what I wanted from you.” You shake your head, “You did nothing wrong, Wanderer.”

You both stand there, the warmness of your heart aches to bring him back in and Wanderer yearns to be in the light you had blessed him with. You both stand there however, looking at one another for a moment only for you to speak, “Safe travels.” You tried to hide the want whilst Wanderer tried to hide his desire, “Thank you. You as well.”

You close your door and Wanderer finds himself walking away, once a safe enough distance from your home he begins to curse himself. “You imbecile! You couldn’t handle someone kissing you!? Embarrassing yourself like a child wetting themselves!” There are more curses that come from him, until he arrives at his quarters and launches himself into his bed. Letting out a loud groan there is only one more thing left for him to call out.

“You as well !?”

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#ouchlovesthem #ouchlovesgenshinimpact #ouchloveswanderer #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #puppet boy

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makelovetomebypeach · 5 days

Text

art donaldson is reader’s ex from college, except you two never really broke it off. at least not properly.

a/n: this isn’t proofread lmfao this was written in the middle of the night i was bored but enjoyyy

you were looking around a gift shop for a friend visiting the city. it was nearing the end of her trip and you wanted to give her a goodbye gift to remember the moment.

the day was cold, snow falling on the streets as cars honked by. thick jackets, winter festivals, christmas trees in the windows of random houses on the street. the entirety of earth settling down to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.

you knelt down, scanning the shelves for mugs, keychains, you name it. picking out a gift for a friend was a great art you took specialty in.

“lils, don’t run around like that with glass in your hand. drop it and i’ll have to pay.”

you nearly dropped the item in your hand at the sound. a voice that haunts you each day, one that never left your mind. what was his presence doing here?

you were cursing yourself in your mind, putting down the item almost immediately. you didn’t want anything to do with him or his life.

suddenly, a tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around. your gaze meets his beauty, the sculpture of a face he owns. he was a piece of art. literally.

the first exchange of awkward glances soon turn to smiles. past experiences flooding back in a couple seconds of silence.

“i knew it was you.” did you really know? i don’t think you remembered me at all. unless i was stored in the back of your mind like i had always wished. did you miss me too?

“oh my gosh, i haven’t seen you in forever.” you pried a smile on your face as he gave you a side hug. the proximity of your faces sickening knowing that if you’d lasted it would’ve been different.

art took a glance at the girl standing cluelessly beside him. her hand tugging on his jacket as she held up a keychain with a smile. he knelt down, nodding his head and setting a kiss on her curls before she continued her adventure. art’s attention turning back to yours after a huff from the parenting.

“that’s my daughter lily.” “that’s nice, how old?” “seven.”

seven years, and more, he spent getting over me. i never really let go. you keep a leash on my neck even though you’ve got your life together. a child? a wife? a fucking career? why do i feel so magnetized by your invisible presence? why do i, after all these years, hold so much against you, but in reality, there is nothing at all?

“are you and your family just visiting?” you wanted him to come over sometime so that you could excuse yourselves to the bathroom and make out and possibly find your spark again. would that be so evil? you didn’t think so.

he puffed his cheeks, nodding as his hands stuffed into his pockets. “just for a bit, yeah.” the signature side smile that tugged his lips made you have déjà vu.

you were proud of him for doing what you couldn’t, moving on. he found himself a life, one without you, and definitely more successful. did his wife know that you were the one he slept with at night before her? you were the one who ran your fingers through his blond curls? how did he throw you away so easily as if you were never there?

“i missed you.” “i did, too.” “no, i mean like, i really fucking missed you.”

your eyes glistened with something more. yearning, the unresolved question that hung in the air. you didn’t know whether to cry on the spot. everything was full with question marks, anger, sadness, mixes and mixes of emotions that took too much mind to handle. your breath hitched with hesitation. a reassuring smile from art, wiping the tension away.

his smile signaling his acceptance of my thoughts before speaking. “it was real, all of it. and i’m sorry for throwing it under the rug like that. we’re both well past that now, i hope. please forgive the immature mess i was back in college,” his voice paused, like a barrier to the words that were urging to come out.

his hand slipped out the pocket of his jacket, setting it on your shoulder. please, console me, my lover. help me leave the role of being the biggest fish in your sea. no matter how many hooks go through my body, i will always come back to the surface to show you my scales.

“i have to go, but i wish you a happy holidays from my family. you’ll find the one, alright?”

your breath shuddered as you saw art walk away with his daughter hand in hand. their presence disappearing like the intimacy that once remained. the bells ringing as a sign that he was gone, that was his exit. the closure that you so desperately needed all those years.

your story was always destined to be tragic. you were left behind in a dusty cloth, an heirloom soon to be found near his deathbed.

it hurts to know that you will never be loved by anyone like art donaldson again. he was only temporary to your story. you still have a journey that continues, why shed on the past if he’d already moved on?

it was worth knowing that the love was there, and it might still remain, just left unspoken.

you won’t welcome him back anymore. you won’t stay on his doorstep, scratching on the door to find your place again. instead, you’ll be waving goodbye to him from the dock, watching him getting shipped off to sea.

this is our goodbye, art. thank you for stopping by.

#makelovetomebypeach #idk if i like this #challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson angst #art donaldson #writing #mike faist #challengers fanfic

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bitethedevil · 4 days

Note

How do you think Raphael would react to feeling loved (not even necessarily in a romantic way—it could also be him feeling appreciated and loved platonically)?

Raphael and Love

(As always, these are just my interpretations of him. It’s dark, but I trust that you have read my “ask”-section and knew it probably would be beforehand anyway. I feel like I’ve made a post about Raphael and love before, but I can’t find it anywhere, so I’m using your ask for it. Hope that’s alright <3)

He would love it. He’d bask in it. He would get addicted to it so fast and it would fascinate him. Not in any healthy or soft way though, far from it. Your love is a tool that is to be explored and exploited for his own pleasure and morbid curiosity, platonic or not.

Testing limits

Ah, so you say you love him: Are you sure about that? If you really do love him, how far are you willing to go? If you truly loved him, surely, he could do whatever he wanted with you, right? He would constantly test your adoration to him, and each little line that you let him cross only means that he will go even further the next time. I am not talking about just ‘making you jealous’ or something like that. I am talking truly abusive and horrible shit. He will literally not stop until he knows that you would literally suffer the worst torments, die, and kill for him.

Making up

What happens then when you snap? He is definitely the type to lovebomb someone and effectively winning them back with all he has got. It is him loosening and tightening the leash. He would give back all that love you craved in return for yours…Until he knows he has got you and then it is back to dissecting you for weaknesses again, like a child seeing how many limbs they can pull off an insect before it dies.

Jealousy and ownership

You are his property. He won’t accept anyone even looking or thinking about you. If possible, keeping you locked away from everything else is the ideal. Why would you need to see other people, if you allegedly loved him more than anyone else? Isolation, control, full attention on him…

It’s the same thing when it comes to affection and intimacy. It will be very dependent on what he wants and likes. I don’t believe it would be entirely one-sided though. He will still touch you and make you feel good, but more in the way that one explores a new and expensive toy to see how it works, and it will be transactional. He never does a thing in his life without wanting something in return.

Love

It’s complicated. He loves your love. He loves the attention and adoration. He craves it. But again, you are a tool for him to get that love. He has no problems molding and shaping you into what he wants, because it can always be better. Look at the House of Hope: everything he owns is shaped in his own image and for his specific needs, and you will be too. Unconditional love is not a part of his vocabulary.

Obsession and dogs and cars

Raphael is just like his daddy when it comes to obsession. It’s hyperfixation. He will get obsessed with someone who gives him the adoration he thinks he deserves, and he will want every bit of it that he can squeeze out of you. He will lose himself completely in it. But. He ‘likes when people put up a fight’ and he likes puzzles, like Korrilla says. You are a puzzle to him. Once you have endured all his excruciating tests with flying colors and he has molded, broken, and shaped you into what he wants, the puzzle is over and things start to get boring. You start to get boring, and Raphael is not a man who lets himself be bored. It is like a dog chasing a car.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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bwabys-scenarios · 9 months

Text

Thinking about Yandere!Kurapika discovering a new friend has a bit of a crush on him and using that to his full advantage. He asks to borrow your spare time and abilities, has you do little errands for him, and all he has to do to keep you happy and compliant is pat your head and tell you how good you did.

At first he finds you to just be a useful pawn, someone he can exploit and get rid of if necessary, it’s when he catches himself giving you more affection that necessary and actually enjoying spending time with you that he pauses.

You just finished a job for him, and you come back a little injured. Usually, he’d give you your head pat and hand you some cash to see a healer, but this time he’s panicking. Seeing you injured invokes some primal urge in him to protect you, and instead of the little head pat and soft praise you usually get, he scolds you.

“How reckless can you be!? Do you think the job is worth your life? Don’t you know how devastated I would be if you-“

Oh FUCK.

You sniffle and cry at his scolding, not used to him yelling at you. Usually he’s very soft, knowing that’s the best way to keep you obedient and happy, but now his own emotional attachment to you is causing him to falter. The facade he usually puts up for everyone is starting to crack, and you get a look under the mask.

He looks terrified, looking over your injuries while summoning his Holy Chain to heal you and relieve your pain. Once he’s done, you’re given strict orders to stick by his side while you recover.

He doesn’t send you on any dangerous jobs after this, in fact you find yourself stuck in his apartment hearing him go over his plans nearly every day. You like spending time with him, of course, but eventually you feel like a puppy on a leash.

“Kurapika, why can’t I go with the Melody and Leorio? My ability would be of use in-“

“Because it’s dangerous!”

This was the second time he ever yelled at you, making you flinch and look away. You didn’t like when he raised his voice, the blonde usually being soft spoken with you. “(Name)…”

He sighs, setting his cup of coffee down. “I told you before, didn’t I? Your help is needed here, not in the field. I need you by my side.”

Kurapika felt a little bad using your feelings for him to his own advantage now that he truly cared for you, but the way you blushed and leaned into his gently touch was enough to stave off his guilt.

“I’m just keeping you safe, (Name). You know that, right? I would never do anything to hurt you…”

Eventually he has you in the palm of his hand, keeping you attached to his hip at all times. You don’t eat, sleep, drink, or shower without him. The blonde hadn’t made any advances on you, even when the two of you showered together. “It’s safer this way, what if you were attacked in the nude?”

The truth was that he was getting clingy, more needy and paranoid by the day. The fear of losing you was making his already paranoid mind sick with worry any time you were out of his sight. He had lost almost every other important person in his life, Kurapika couldn’t stand living without you.

Your affection, the way you smiled when you looked at him, your love and loyalty, he loved it all. And with a little more pushing, he was eventually able to convince you to move in with him, even slipping a ring on your finger while confessing his feelings. It came out of left field, but you were too flustered and in love with him to say no.

It didn’t take long for talks of children and moving far away from anyone you knew began, and before you knew it the two of you were married and in a different country, your belly swelling with his child.

You were stuck with him now, and he was never letting you go. Kurapika can’t lose another person, especially not you.

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

³.⍭ 𝐖��𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | ghostface!ex-boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead/dumb!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | soft DARK/DARK themes and elements, obsessed/controlling!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, dumb!reader, size difference: 6’10!Ari, manhandling, DD/LG undertones, stalking (implied), alcohol, drugs (weed, edibles). SMUT - minors DNI, fingering (f), daddy kink, size kink, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dacryphilia, degradation, dumbification, p*ssy slapping, squirting.

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.55K

𝗔/𝗡 | welcome to my first kinktober fic ever !! i’m very excited for you all to meet mr obsessive ex ari, after all, he was just thot of last week. As always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you all enjoy !!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Hey, I heard you were going to the Halloween party tonight… I just wanted to say have fun and be safe. You know how Drysdale’s parties can be—”

“You unblocked him?”

You jump, dropping your phone to the floor. At the doorway is your best friend, Wanda, with a black hat atop her soft auburn hair. She crosses her arms with a deep scowl, “Well? Are you going to explain yourself?”

You shrink under her harsh glare and nervously tug at the fur hem of your dress, “I got curious.”

She stomps towards you, embodying the grumpy, grouchy witch she’s dressed as. With a swift motion, she grabs your phone off the ground and tucks it into her purse. “Do not drunk text or call your ex.” She commands as if scolding a child. “You aren’t crawling back to that dickhead, even if I have to babysit you tonight.”

That was how plenty of people talked to you. Like you didn’t understand the simplest things and needed everything spelled out and demonstrated.

And, you won’t lie—sometimes that demeaning exchange was what you needed, but other times it just made you feel stupid.

This wasn’t the first time one of your friends has treated you this way, hell, you don’t remember when they treated you any other way. Ever since your breakup, they’ve kept you on a tight leash, snooping through your phone, keeping tabs on your whereabouts, and even passing you around like a baby who couldn’t take care of themself.

The breakup was their idea—an ultimatum, more like it, “it’s us or him. We take care of you, and he—he treats you like a pet or a fucking baby.”

You chose your closest friends over the guy who made your heart swell bigger than the moon. Even now, you still feel the ache in your chest, the gutting loss of someone you once loved and someone who made you happy.

You’re happier now, that’s what Natasha told you every day. You’re happier without him.

“I won’t!” You vow and reach for her bag, but she quickly steps away. “Wanda, please! I can hold my phone!”

“No, because now I know I can’t trust you when you’re sober!” She snaps, “It’s been what? A month?”

You wince at her volume, “Five weeks—almost six.”

She groans in frustration, “Ugh, c’mon! He was always breathing down your neck and he never let you go out with us unless he was there. How could we have proper fun with a scary giant like him?”

Ari was on the rugby team, a D1 player, whatever that meant, you assumed it meant he was one of the best. He was tall and brawny, just over 6’10” with broad shoulders and a thick chest that nearly burst through all his button-ups. His firm arms were bigger than your head and his hand dwarfed yours. He used to wrap his bicep around your neck and tug you into him to kiss your cheeks—one of his love languages was touch. And his thighs, you mourned all the times you napped on his lap, rubbing your cheek into the coarse hair of his muscular flesh.

He was so much bigger than most people on campus. His impenetrable presence towered over them. Oftentimes he’d manhandle you or carry you around. You thought it was cute when he had to duck through doorways sometimes.

The first time he ever came to your dorm room, he didn’t even try to climb to your bed on the upper bunk.

“You know, if we start dating, you’ll have to do some remodelling.” He smirked and tugged you to the edge of the mattress by your ankle, “Don’t you want me in your bed too, bunny?”

After a week of begging your roommate to rearrange the room, you both came to a compromise. Now, you were on the bottom bunk and she moved to the top.

“You could sit here now!” You presented your clean, made bed with your dozens of stuffies all neatly sitting atop the coral covers. “Watch your head but just in case, I put a little cushion too.”

Ari was popular and well-liked, he came from a good, wealthy family who hosted charity auctions and funded the college. His reputation was spotless, he was one of the top students, and he had many friends and admirers. If you two went out to dinner, it was guaranteed that someone would strike up a conversation. You didn’t care, you loved hearing Ari’s voice.

You also loved when he introduced you as his girlfriend, always kissing your hand after saying your name in that creamy voice of his.

“He isn’t scary… just intimidating.” You shyly countered, twiddling your fingers, “And he was there because I get nervous without him.”

“That’s exactly what we mean. You have to be your own person. Exist without needing someone to tell you what to do! Being so dependent on someone, much less some asshole like him, isn’t good for you.”

But Ari always knew what was good for you.

You were never the brightest star, always fumbling and forgetful, ditzy and daydreaming every second of the day. Your grades not only proved how easily you got distracted but also your lack of drive and self-discipline.

All your life you’ve flounced and fleeted, lived your days so blissfully ignorant to anything beyond the surface. That cluelessness made you vulnerable to any monster to sink their teeth into. It painted a self-portrait of your untouched, innocent soul, coloured like white chiffon.

“I didn’t mind…”

“You didn’t notice.” She corrects. “But he did. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he liked that you were—” stupid, it goes unsaid, “—oblivious. It made you easy, hun. That’s why he so effortlessly controlled you.”

Your friends could try as they might, but it will never change the fact that Ari made you feel safe, secure and loved. And without him, you’re lying back on that heap of sticky disarray without a hint of how to take care of yourself.

“We’re trying to protect you, don’t you understand that?” Wanda coaxes, tilting your chin up with her knuckle. The corners of her red lips turn down to a frown, “We care about you, we want what’s best for you and you know that Ari is far from that.” She wipes your cheek, and only then do you notice you’re crying.

You heard the first breakup was the hardest, but you never expected it to be like this. You’re lost and alone. Abandoned in the middle of a bustling city, it was blinding, overcrowded and so loud that you had to cover your eyes and ears just for relief. You’re overwhelmed and disorientated, nothing made sense, no matter how hard you try to decipher it.

There was no direction without him.

You roughly wipe your nose and meet your reflection. Aside from the fresh tears and glossy pout, your skin glistened from the glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones—bunnies aren’t shimmery, Maria said, but you thought it was cute anyway. And you loved sparkles, that’s why Ari got you so much jewelry.

Jewelry that your friends got rid of. You grieve for the gold ‘A’ initial charm, either sitting in the city dump or in a hidden box that you’ll never find. They’re all gone, just like his hoodies and sweatpants, and your beloved Hazel, the softest stuffie you’ve ever owned. You miss his weighted body covered in beige fur, floppy ears and lifeless but sweet eyes.

“I had to reward you for doing so well on that test.” That was a stretch, you got a ‘C+’ but that was better than the ‘D-’ you got last time. Ari beamed proudly when you buried your nose in the stuffie, cutely kicking your feet in happiness. “You take care of him, bunny, he’s our little baby, okay?”

Ari pampered you, took you on dates and walked you to class every day. You thought he treated you like a princess, not a pet.

Ari wasn’t that bad. To you, he was never bad.

Wanda fixes your bunny ears and rubs your shoulders, a pitiful smile on her face. “C’mon, let’s fix your makeup before we go.”

“So, he treated you like a pet?” One of your friends asked.

“…He just made sure I was well taken care of.”

“Didn’t he just plop you in front of the television while he did his own thing?”

Yes, although his academic talents seemed natural, Ari was very serious about school and would spend hours at his desk, studying or perfecting assignments. Sometimes he even did your homework, “Dummy bunny, you just sit there while I take care of this, okay?”

You vaguely recall the times he would tell you to not make a peep until he spoke first, just to keep your glossy lips shut until he addressed you. To you, it was being respectful of his quiet time and letting him set boundaries. Your friends thought it was toxic and controlling.

“You’re a human being, not his pretty little pet to do whatever he says.”

The mansion is packed when you and your friends arrive fashionably late. The bunch of you are clad in costumes ranging from a bright red devil to a dead cheerleader to a dark and mysterious witch. Unfortunately, you stuck out like a sore thumb with your egg-filled basket, sheer dress, and white fluffy ears and matching tail. You were the only one not in classic Halloween attire.

You’re grateful Natasha suggested fake eggs instead of real ones. Although you wanted the joy of painting real Easter eggs, you’ve already dropped a few on the way to the party. You dreaded the mess and smell if they were real instead of just empty plastic.

You suppose they were right, you didn’t think things through all the time.

The whole property is decked out, from the jack o'lanterns on the porch and the ‘Enter If You Dare’ sign in the front yard. Inside the big house, strobe lights flashed across the room in red, blue and green, colouring the other guests in neon shades. The walls were covered in bat and spider decals, little white ghosts hung from the banisters, and fake spider webs occupied the ceiling corners.

It doesn’t take long for your friends to get the night started. After getting drinks from a frat boy dressed as an ice cream man, the group of you migrated to the energetic dance floor in the basement.

The music was louder and the lights were brighter, blinding you every time they found your eyes. As the colour sparks across the walls, inescapable memories flash through your brain.

The last time you were at a party, it was to celebrate another win by the rugby team and being the girlfriend of their best player, you had to dress for the role. You squeezed into your old cheer uniform and cheekily stitched each letter of ‘LEVINSON’ on the back. Oh, Ari loved when you wore his name. If he could, he’d have you clad in his jersey every damn day.

This wasn’t a party hosted by his fraternity, your friends made sure of that, but a few of his friends were in attendance. You’ve caught glimpses of their tall and burly figures but didn’t dare to say hello. It would be too awkward.

What if he’s here too?

One by one, your friends disappear and you're left in the middle of the dance floor with your basket half empty. The eggs were going to be impossible to find, so you didn’t try. After weaving through the sweaty, grinding bodies, you returned to the less packed kitchen.

With your ears still pounding, you squint at the bottles, reading each name and smelling a few. Eventually, you give up and dumbly mix whatever looks good. Judging books by their covers never got you far, but it got you something, and you wanted to have fun tonight. Party, dance, get drunk and have fun.

A shadow appears next to you, crowding you against the counter with its mass and height. When you turn around, a radiant smile explodes on your face. “Hey, Brian!”

“It’s Bryce.” The light-haired man corrects with a quirk of his lips. “Forget me already?”

Your eyes widen, “Oops, sorry! No, how could I forget the world’s best lab partner?” You set aside your cup and hug him tightly, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I just got here, I had to pick up some brownies that Jensen made.” He nods to the spread of snacks and punch. Like the rest of the house, the table was Halloween-themed with eyeball cake pops, blood-red punch, and the cutest spooky cupcakes. The surface was also decorated with old lanterns, fake candles and skulls. “You want to try?”

You shy away. The last time you tried Jensen’s brownies, you jumped Ari’s bones right in front of his friends, the baker himself included! You hadn’t felt like that before, that needy, desperate and wet.

To this day, you’re still haunted by the memories of Ari slipping his hand up your tiny skirt and getting you off with just a few fingers. With his friends packed into the frat house living room, their eyes drawn to the sports game on the television, either ignoring or not noticing your quiet whimpers and the dull motions under the blanket on your lap.

“Dumb little bunny, are you gonna come in front of daddy’s friends?” He whispers against your ear, locking you tightly in his lap and stuffing your soppy core with two thick fingers, “I want you to make a stupid mess in your pretty panties, cream yourself like a pathetic baby so daddy could clean you up later.”

You shake your head, grasping his wrist under the blanket.

Ari cruelly takes that as a sign to speed up his pumps, rubbing your swollen clit with the heel of his palm. Your wetness smears down your slit, soaking your skimpy thong and the cushion of the couch. Between the pauses of the sports game, you can hear the horrifying sticky sounds from between your trembling thighs.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, bunny? Daddy’s just helping you out. Poor girl gets all wet with just a lil weed.”

You can still taste the chocolatey goodness. How shameful was it that you’d have another if he asked?

He kicks your legs apart and gets rougher, making you fall back onto his chest with a gasp, “Think I can fit another, baby? Or is your tight pussy still too little for me?”

“T-Too small, daddy—not gonna fit.” You shakily reply, knowing all too well how he has to force himself into your tight walls. The thought of his girth stuffing your core has a wave of arousal pooling around his thrusting fingers, and your stomach tightening.

He groans lowly, “Mhm, but you want me to try. Dumb little whore loves being filled to the brim, huh?” His ring finger slides alongside the other two, stretching your weepy hole as a burning sensation flows through you. “You love when I just pin you down and force you to take it. My bunny fuckin’ loves being used.” His bicep keeps you against his warm, muscled body, only reminding you how trapped you are, entirely helpless and vulnerable to his sinful actions.

He was right, you loved it.

A choked whine escapes your sealed lips, miraculously not catching the attention of the other guys. Your hips grind against his hand, practically riding his fingers as you topple over. You slap a hand over your mouth, silencing your moan as your juices spurt from your pussy.

“Good girl, that’s it, use daddy’s fingers.” He spears into you relentlessly, hitting that rough patch with his long fingers and rubbing your clit with his palm. The lewd noises grow in volume, he doesn’t give a shit if his friends notice—he wants them to. He wants them to know you’re his and only his. “Cream yourself, ya little dummy. Make a mess in front of all my friends—let ‘em know what a filthy slut you are for daddy.”

Your orgasm rushes down your leg, soaking his pants and the material of your leg warmers, and adds to the disgraceful puddle on the floor. Tears stream down your hot cheeks and your mind goes blank, drool dripping from your chin dumbly. Ari pulls away with a mean pinch to your clit and you spasm in his hold, uneven breaths shaking your frame.

He growls and slaps your cunt, unable to resist rubbing your puffy button. “Fuck, I should’ve had you try those brownies earlier, could’ve gave this greedy little cunt what it needs.”

It was safe to say if you wanted a brownie, you wouldn’t spend the night alone.

“I don’t know… It isn’t even midnight yet.”

“C’mon! It’s a new recipe, similar to his usual stuff but not as strong. You’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Bryce tugs you to the table with a firm grip on your hand. “I’ll get you a piece, do you like corners or middles?”

You don’t want to tell him about the problem from the last time. Who knows what he’d think of you?

Those worries didn’t only stem from embarrassment, but you grew up in a household where the topic of sex was forbidden. Everything you learnt was from your past boyfriends, mainly Ari since he was your first serious relationship. Openness about the subject was still difficult, regardless of the escapades you and your ex have shared.

“If you have one, I’ll have one too.” Bryce urges, tilting his head like a puppy. “That way neither of us will be alone. Does that seem like a fair bargain, m’lady?” He bows.

Your gaze drops to his thin white shirt, hanging on by two bottom buttons and tucked into the thick belt of his jeans. Sweat glistens on his pale, taut skin, highlighting the dips of his abs. Your grip on the Easter basket tightens as your eyes follow the trail of hair from his chest to his belly button.

Bryce takes advantage of your glazed expression and holds a square to your mouth, cooing softly, “Open up, little bunny.” You make a confused sound and he uses that opportunity to feed you the brownie and tilt your chin, making you take a big chunk of the laced treat. “There we go, a nice big bite for me.”

He’s so close you can count every freckle on his clean-shaven face. Bryce has always been pretty, but with his hair slightly longer and a gold crown atop his head, he’s even prettier.

“So well behaved. Does it taste good?”

You nod wordlessly, not realizing he’s feeding you the rest of the brownie until he turns back to the tray. The rich, chocolate flavour spreads along your tastebuds, it’s gooey and moist, almost making you forget about the other ingredient.

Bryce pops a whole square into his mouth and chews slowly. “Mhm, way better than his last batch.” He washes it down with a sip from a childishly cute monster-themed solo cup. “We should wait a bit before having more.”

“I’ve never had more than one.”

“Then you’re in for a night, bunny.” He flashes a charming smile, all too fitting for his costume. “You’ve got some chocolate, let me get it for you.” He pinches your chin between his fingers and licks his other thumb, then delicately wipes the corner of your lips, as a mother would to a child. The single action brings warmth to your cheeks that only grows hotter when Bryce sucks the same digit into his mouth, his white teeth digging into his knuckle. “Always such a messy girl, I remember how stained your lab coat was just after the first semester.”

“That class was so hard—I don’t think I learnt a thing!”

Of course you didn’t, what could fit in your head other than air?

He doesn’t say that obviously, but he knows it’s true. Everyone on campus knew you were just a ditzy, clueless airhead with an irresistibly sweet personality. Nothing up there but you were plenty to look at with all your sundresses, mini skirts and those fucking tight shirts that you never wore a bra underneath.

You didn’t even know you were collecting people’s hearts like trading cards.

“You look great!” He says instead, reaching out to touch your soft ears. “Give me a spin, sweetheart.”

You giggle and twirl around, showing off your puffy tail and almost tripping over yourself. “Thanks! My friends thought being the Easter bunny was dumb, but I’ve had this nightie forever and wanted to finally wear it—that’s why it’s a little small.” You whisper, gesturing to your breasts.

If you jumped too suddenly, they’d surely spill out and Bryce mmediately thinks of ways to make you hop like a real bunny. “It isn’t dumb, I think you’ve got the best costume here.”

You preen under his praise, smiling so dumbly that you don’t notice his eyes locking on your exposed cleavage. Usually, you’re wearing some fresh hickeys or marks from your boyfriend, all while he wears you on his arm like a shiny bracelet. Levinson knew he had the hottest piece of ass on campus, and he made sure everyone knew you were claimed, like a damn slab of meat.

Bryce hated him but he can’t be upset about that, because he’d treat you the same way.

“I like yours too. You’re the first and only prince I’ve seen all night.”

“Yeah? What’s your boyfriend dressed as?” He cuts to the chase, “I haven’t seen him yet, and you two are usually inseparable.” More like he never let you get more than three feet away.

Your shoulders go slack and if your ears were real, they’d surely do the same. “oh, we broke up…”

Bryce blinks in surprise, caught off guard. A rush of glee fills his body, but he hides it with faux concern, “What? When?” Just like that, your eyes start watering again—and he can’t help but admire how pretty you look when you cry. “Did he break your heart, baby?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, swallowing the lump in your throat, “No, I-I dumped him.”

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He isn’t, not one bit. “Do you want to talk about it outside?”

Ari is fucking seething.

Boiling with rage to the point where steam nearly blows from his ears. Under his black hooded robe, his skin is set ablaze as he watches you stumble after the brunet. You’re facing down but his sharp gaze follows those white and pink ears.

He glances at his phone, the delivered sign right under the various text messages sent to you all night. He was checking up on you, making sure you were okay and not getting into trouble.

Just because you were broken up didn’t mean he could instantly stop caring about you—that’s what he told his friends who were still wondering why he was so hung up on you.

“You could get any other girl, man.” Steve rubs his back, the locker room emptier now that most of the team had left.

The rugby team won the game, no surprise there, but while the rest of the guys celebrate the victory, Ari can’t relax. He can barely sit still. The image of the empty seat of the very first row is burned on the inside of his eyelids, patronizing him.

“But, none of them are her.” Curtis dramatically sighs from down the aisle, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “What? You think just because she was your girl, that I can’t find her hot?”

“The decent thing to do would be to not say it out loud, asshole.”

“Too bad it’s hard to forget a piece of ass like that.” Another unhelpful voice speaks up as a dripping wet brunet emerges from the showers, his long hair still soaked. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having her then losing her.”

“I didn’t lose her.” Ari huffs, tossing aside his phone so he didn’t have to look at the painful one-sided conversations.

“Well, you had her and now you don’t.” Curtis deadpanned. “Sounds like losing her to me.” Bucky finishes with a snort.

Steve, the only one with a heart, tells them to shut up. He hated seeing his childhood best friend so upset. “Have you tried going to her dorm?”

Every damn day. “She’s never there. Always out with her fuckin’ friends. Bunch of dumb sluts, all of them.”

“Your precious bunny included?”

Ari rolls his eyes. “She’s got no brains anyway.”

Bucky laughs, drying his hair with a towel. “You know, it wasn’t her choice. They all pushed her to dump you.” Oh, Ari knows that.

“So technically, she isn’t to blame.” Steve agrees, he tucks his blond hair into a baseball cap. “I knew she wouldn’t make that decision by herself.”

“‘cause she’s stupid?” Curtis smugly wonders, “Because we know that already.”

“No, because she loved him.”

Loved—that isn’t right. You still love him. You had to. You were his sweet girl, his dumb baby, his bunny. He couldn’t fathom you just being you. Someone entirely detached from him, free of his authority and influence.

That kind of independence was high over your head and you’d never reach it no matter how hard you tried. You could climb skyscrapers or trees that kiss the clouds, but it’ll never be enough. You needed him to lift you up and get you there, and fill up your empty little head with a false sense of self-rule.

You should be thankful for him and kiss the ground he walks on, not break his heart over text.

You’d be nothing without him in the same way he was nothing without you.

After you met him, your perceptions and ideas, desires and fears were no longer your own. He fixed the little puzzle in your head, he did all the thinking and decision-making since you clearly couldn’t do it by yourself.

He was electric and charismatic, and you were pure and gullible.

The itty bitty seedling in a field of mature, vibrant flowers. Everyone crowded over you, stealing the golden rays and fresh breeze—that was until Ari came along and tucked you into an ivory pot, and took you home.

He gave you everything you needed and then some, always putting your well-being above his own. He watered you, raised you towards the sun and made you into his slice of heaven. He made it so you couldn’t grow and flourish without him.

Then, you took his heart and stomped on it like a bug.

“She’s just an airhead who does whatever people tell her.” Curtis affirms, “Ain’t nothing up there but pixie dust and cotton candy.”

Ari can’t deny that. He knows all too well about your naive obedience to orders and your wide-eyed, credulous view of the world. You were always focusing on the bright side, always holding other people’s opinions above your own—that’s what made it so easy to drill the hunger for his acceptance into your head.

Bucky hums, “If anything, you’ve got to get even with her friends. If they’re out of the picture, who do you think she’ll run back to?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hehe I think i'm in my sleazy daddy and airhead!reader era. i bet you aren't ready for ari fucking reader in mating press.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! see you on oct. 6 for part two !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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c0ffinshit · 11 months

Text

Smut/Romantic Headcanons: Nathan Bratt

a/n: hey guys, i’m actually working on a longer fic about nathan but its taking WAY longer than i wanted so have this to tie you over im sorry T_T

warnings: smut (duh), nathan being a switch and a bit of a slut

- okay so like this man claims to not be a romantic but literally WAKES UP AND BREATHES ROMANTIC

- if you get in a fight with him, he will write you a note about how sorry he is and buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers

- also GUILTY. HE WILL FEEL SO GUILTY ABOUT THE FIGHT.

- this man needs to be reassured 24/7

- he is also a bit clingy

- like that man has a DEATH GRIP if you try and leave the bed while cuddling

- he is a hand holder

- like any chance he gets, he will hold that hand!!!!

- also great kisser

- like i know i say that a lot but like I MEAN THIS TIME

- his lips are so soft 24/7 and he does that thing when you two make up where he licks your bottom lip AUGHHH

- he will let you take his glasses and wear them (that man is blind without them but he still thinks its cute)

- okay this is a general hc but like whatever: this man doesn’t get modern lingo and you MAY abuse that

- “babe, wtf does that even mean???” (him after hearing the word ‘rizz’ for the first time)

- for dates, he loves staying in and watches movies or reading books/doing puzzles

- this man is chronically chill but also a ball of anxiety

- he is very confused about a lot of things

- his love language is gift giving even tho this man is canonically broke as HELL.

- will probably include you in a story and be super proud of it, like a child who just completed their macaroni art

- also he has two wolves inside of him: one named adhd, the other named autism

- he may not be into talking about his feelings because he is a bit of a cryer

- he cries a lot

- like at anything, anywhere

- he’s just a soft man who needs a hug T_T

smutty headcanons under the cut

- this man is a switch in denial who has a praise kink

- he’s like “yeah i get hard when call me a good boy and to get on my knees but im still the top!”

- which like when he is on top, that man is ON TOP

- he um may or may not be um into hair pulling

- that man is condescending and RUTHLESS when he tops

- “awe, i bet you’ll be a good girl now.”

- three words: PINING YOU DOWN.

- he is sensitive in all the right places

- like his jawline— if you kiss or touch his jawline, he will purr

- im serious. this man purrs and whimpers. i don’t make the rules.

- begging. he is into you begging and begging for you.

- if you come over to his house in just his shirt and booty shorts, he will tear it off you and fuck you like its his last day on earth

- when he isn’t being a top, he is a SLUT for you

- doing anything and everything if it means it will turn you on or make you cum

- also he likes being called a slut (secretly, that’s why he always calls you one when he’s on top)

- also also, totally has a thing for collars and leashes

- “no, its not a pet play thing…” (he lied, it definitely is)

#send help #nathan bratt x reader #goosebumps 2023 #goosebumps #justin long #justin long x reader

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anonymousdisco · 24 days

Text

How’d I get Isikia’d into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Eight-Unexpected Opportunity Part One

(Y/N)’s POV:

I woke up groggy and half asleep as I snuggled closer to the warmth surrounding me. My eyes flew open as someone held me tighter. I stiffened in shock at the sight before me. What the fudge sticks was happening?!

“Go back to sleep. It’s still too early for you to be up.” Lucifer pushed my head closer to his chest as he held me against him where he was seated on my bed doing his work.

I blinked slowly in shock and pried my hands from his grasp to rub my eyes in shock. “Lucifer…?” There were no lies or faking it in my complete confusion. The shock I had was genuine as I tried to get out of his grip.

”Yes, it’s me. Now go back to sleep. Like I said it’s too early for you to be up. Little girls need their sleep.” Was his tone almost… gentle?! I haven’t even interacted with him yet! How is he like this already?!

”It’s fine. I’m not tired anymore.” I felt a little annoyed to be treated like a child since I had been an adult in my previous life instead of a teenager, but I hid my feelings of annoyance from my tone and expression. “Why… are you in my room?” I tilted my head and gave myself a shy like expression.

Lucifer looked at me quietly for a moment. His gaze for a second faltered from his usual prideful facade and behind it I saw an almost guilty expression. “You looked cold, and lonely when I checked on you last night after a… meeting I had with Lord Diavolo.”

”I see. I suppose that makes sense.” I said hesitantly. He wasn’t suppose to have a meeting yesterday. But it’s not like I can talk to glitch with him here even if I do it through thoughts. He’ll get suspicious of my behavior if I do. I must wait till I have a moment alone.

I felt an uneasy pit in my stomach. This wasn’t suppose to happen yet since I wasn’t ready for it, but I’ll have to work with it. Time to get an Oscar in acting. “Since I’m up you’re welcome to go back to your office.” I slouched my shoulders curling into myself a bit holding myself now with my arms. It gave me a fragile look kinda like a sad doll. I kept my eyes shut tight like I was avoiding seeing him leave.

When I felt his hand on my head stroking my hair I opened my eyes hesitantly. Peeking up at him through my eyelashes with a touch of vulnerability.

”I’m almost done with my work for the day. I’ll be back to collect you for some errands once I’m done signing these last documents.” He got up carefully to avoid jostling me from where I sat. “We’ll be having breakfast in my office before we leave. I’ll prepare it.” His voice left no room for complaint since his words came out as statements rather than questions.

I simply kept quiet and nodded carefully as I stared at him leaving my room. Once he was gone I closed the door and slumped down to the ground in front of it. “Glitch. What. The. Fudge. Was. That. About?!” I panicked a bit now that I was alone. A variable I had no control over was bad. One misstep could be my downfall.

Glitch flickered to life in front on me. “That was due to an action of Lord Diavolo that was… unexpected to say the least. He got home so fast afterwards I had no time to wake you to warn you. It worked out perfect. You have his attention now. But you still need more to get him permanently hooked.” Glitches screen had dimmed and was tinged purple at the edges kinda like glitch was embarrassed.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. Looks like I need to get Diavolo on a tighter leash. Or at least under my thumb without him noticing.” Glitches screen brightened at that.

”I agree user. That’s a great thought. But how?” Glitch hovered excitedly.

”I don’t know yet. I have to fix Lucifer’s pace of interest in my wellbeing first into something steadier and more permanent first before anything else. What is he planning?” I get up from the floor suppressing my unease.

”I think he wants to spend the day with you. It’s hard to get a read on him compared to others because of him having such a solid facade. At least with Barbatos I can somewhat guess his thoughts and next actions through assuming what Diavolo would want from him.” Glitch explained to me carefully.

”Darn it…” I huffed a bit in irritation which made glitch dim again. “Not you glitch just the situation.” Glitch brightened again before moving off to the side of my mirror on the wall.

”What’s today’s outfit?” Glitch asked me with a bit of excitement. Seems as though Glitch likes fashion.

”He never told me what he plans after breakfast so I’ll wear my RAD uniform like it’s a normal school day. And I’ll…” I trailed off thinking of something before smirking. “Glitch you can manipulate NPC actions other than the main cast right…?” I tilted my head smiling.

”Yes I can. But only so much. It had to align with the NPC’s usual actions at least a bit.” I nodded along.

”Okay then do something for me real quick.” I quickly explained to Glitch the general gist of what I needed as I dug through my closet for a pair of flats that could be ran in. I pulled out a pair of shoes that were a dark grey and looked a lot like Devildom equivalent of converse. They had little black bats embroidered along the edge. I nodded in satisfaction laying them on my bed. I also grabbed a pair of black tights instead of fishnets like yesterday. After putting my hair into two pick tails with a grey hair and and getting dressed I was done with my outfit. All that was left was limited makeup that only made my face look a bit younger like an early teen rather than an almost adult one. This would be great for later.

This new plan could truly work out better than my old one. Perhaps I should do something cute for Diavolo later as a thank you? “Showtime Glitch.”

Lucifer’s POV:

I heard a knock at my door and tried to smile a bit to seem more approachable before slightly yelling out, “Enter.” My eyes softened a bit as (Y/N) entered shyly. “Sit down.”

She nodded quickly gazing at the ground at her feet as she sat across from me. I pushed one of the plates in front of her before speaking again. “Eat.” She picked up a fork before taking a bite of the scrambled eggs I made which made me chuckle a bit when her eyes widened at the taste.

”It’s delicious, thank you Lucifer.” Her voice rang out quietly in my office.

”There’s more in the kitchen for everyone else so don’t worry and eat up as much as you want.” Clearly according to the papers I was shown she can’t be trusted to eat a proper amount without supervision. She’s too forgetful to take care of herself.

She smiled a bit timidly at me before she continued to eat. We sat together in a somewhat awkward environment as we finished eating together.

Once we were done I spoke up. “I’ll put these in the sink while you brush your teeth. Meet me at the front door. Also we’re not going to RAD today so there’s no need to wear your uniform today in case you wanted to change.” I gathered up our plates and walked them to the sink. Once I brushed my teeth as well I waited for her by the door. I glanced at my watch slightly irritated by the delay, but seconds later she arrived quietly in front of me.

She looked adorable in the dress she chose. Her dress went almost to her ankles and had little bats sewn on the hem. “Ready to go?” I held out my arm for her.

”Y-yes.” She almost whispered as she stuttered nervously grabbing onto my arm. I escorted her my car that was waiting in the front drive. I opened up the Porsche’s door for her on the passenger side and chuckled as she looked flabbergasted at the car.

“It’s okay to get inside the car. It can be replaced easily if something happens. If you don’t like this one I can get a different one in less than an hour.” I smirked as she shook her head no frantically.

”Oh no this one is no bother at all!” She panicked cutely as she got inside the car extra carefully. I simply shut her door and went around to the drivers side to get in.

”Don’t forget your seatbelt.” Once we were both buckled in I drove the car out the driveway.

We had about ten minutes before we would reach the HOL’s gate so I had plenty of time to catch up on her interests. “So what kind of theme do you like for your room?” I need to make sure to find out so I can improve hers. What she has now would simply not do. It was an insult to my pride as an older brother for my younger sibling to have such a small and shabby room.

”I like… whatever I can find.” She smiled at me. “It can be so interesting finding new uses for old things. The blanket I’m using now used to be some old curtains I found laying in the attic that I fixed up as a blanket instead. It was so fun to figure out! I needed a new blanket at the time since the one originally in the room no longer fit me anymore once I grew up. I even found the bed I have now up there too. Though it’s hard to find things to repurpose ever since Belphegor decided to use the room as his napping spot. Now all the old stuff has been thrown away so I can’t do much with it anymore.” Her shoulders slouched at the end her tone no longer as excited as it had been about sewing.

My hands clenched the wheel tightly. “Your happy to use such old things? That makes you happy?” My tone came out harsher than I meant which I immediately regretted as she shied away from me a bit. I would apologize but that would make me seem weak. Instead I changed the direction of the conversation a bit. “You’re picking out new stuff for your room today. It’ll all be delivered and set up by the workers tomorrow. Tonight you’ll sleep in my room while I work. Understood?”

”Yes, I understand.” Her voice came out quiet again like earlier which made me regret my earlier tone, but apologies are a sign of weakness and I don’t want her to think I’m weak and can’t protect her.

Part two is not finished yet. This one will likely have a lot of parts since it’s really important to the beginning of the story. Hopefully I will have the other parts completed soon.

Lucifer

~Affection: 37%

“She was starting to get excited and I stupidly ruined it with my tone. But how in Devildom can she be satisfied with such terrible quality in her room. It’s shameful to have one of my little siblings in such a room. It’s an insult to my pride as an older brother and makes it seem like I cannot provide for my younger siblings. It simply has to be changed.”

~Relation- Prideful Older Brother

~Danger Level- Yellow

#Yandere obey me #romantoc yandere #Platonic yandere #Yandere Lucifer #yandere mammon #yandere leviathan #yandere satan #yandere asmodeus #yandere Beelzebub #yandere belphegore #Yandere barbatos #yandere diavolo #yandere simeon #yandere solomon #yandere luke #yandere obey me x reader #female reader

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drawinglin · 1 month

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Hello. Regarding Hellraiser III, I seem to recall you making a comment about how you believed Elliott and Unbound!Pinhead to be physical manifestations of Freud's model of the psyche - super-ego and id respectively. I am in total agreement with you there, and I have believed this same thing for a long time now. This would also make normal 'Bound' Pinhead that we meet in the first two films, and the films following Bloodline, to be the actual Ego itself. I think this makes the third film, and the characterisations so much more interesting, rather than doing what the early 90s HR comics did, which was to have Pinhead be an Aztec 'demon' who possesses Elliott, making them separate people altogether. That's boring and predictable, and just goes against everything that the movies established in the earlier films for Pinhead. By having Unbound and Elliott be one and the same, just different aspects of the same man, which is basically what HR is about - our deepest, darkest desires explored and enhanced, it builds on the HR mythology. This is why I've always loved HR3, and why I don't think it's a bad film, and why I just adore Unbound as a character. This is Pinhead off the leash. I still believe that Unbound would still be very fond of Kirsty, and still would be driven to protect her in some way. Even without his human side. But for the most part, he would be super eager to have her join him. Though he'd treat her much differently than he did the club patrons. I don't think the love/lust for Kirsty comes from just his human side. It comes from all of him.

Anyway, I thought I'd share my thoughts on the matter with you. I found this online regarding id, ego, super-ego, and it reminded me of the boys even more so. Maybe you could draw something out of this? It's an idea. I love your art. Keep up the good work! :)

Your analysis of Unbound and Elliot is exactly what I was thinking. It almost makes me cry. I’ve always found it hard to dislike HR3 for this reason. After watching the HR1 and HR2, I felt that human desires and darkness are what truly terrify us. So when I discovered that HR3 split the Hell Priest into two characters, I was super excited.

The human version of Elliot is relatively mature; after all, he carries the memories and burdens from his time as a human, as well as the PTSD of being a survivor of World War I. He is also someone who adheres strictly to rules. I guess this leadership quality and personality is what attracted Leviathan to him, eventually leading him to become the priest managing hell. In the moment of their separation, the repressed desires, dark sides, and nature of the human were individually extracted, like a newly born child without constraints. They both possess things that the other lacks. I’m really looking forward to their journey of hatred and self-destruction gradually turning into understanding, culminating in a new interpretation of a single person. It’s amazing! But unfortunately, HR3 didn’t delve into their complex psychological relationship in detail. This regret has made me want to doodle their story.

I was shocked to learn that the comic had mentioned the demon's setting before; I had no idea about that. Thank you for sharing! Like you, I’m more inclined towards the idea of the id and superego!

I agree that Elliot and Unbound have an obsession with Kirsty and surely hope that she would join their ranks as a Cenobite.

But to me,I tend to see their relationship as a complex ambiguity; I imagine it as a sense of distance rather than a romantic interaction. Their conflicts would actually bring them closer together.

For Kirsty, the Hell Priest undoubtedly intervened in her life and indirectly destroyed her family. Even if it started because of someone else’s involvement, he still cast a huge shadow over Kirsty. In their contract relationship, the Hell Priest has let her go multiple times, and Elliot himself has said that Kirsty is his friend. Therefore, I believe they share a relationship that is both contradictory and beautiful!

The existence of their relationship is so enchanting, which is probably why so many people like it!

And thank you for the pictures you provided. I love your thoughts every time you share them; they truly inspire me!🥰❤️ ❤️

#hellraiser #ask #thank you :)

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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What kinds of babies would the batkids be if Bruce adopted them from the start?

I did another ask here a while ago talking about what if the batfam were adopted as babies, which I’m using as a frame of reference. While it’s not totally accurate to their canon age differences, I kinda like how it worked out.

Dick is mobile from the get-go. He crawls as soon as Bruce puts him down, tries to climb out of his crib, and is the reason the high chair has a seatbelt. Things only get worse when he learns to grab and stack things. Bruce walks in on him climbing a teetering tower of toys to reach the cereal box, and he just barely catches him before it topples over. Everyone thinks Jason is the reason for the child leash, but it’s actually Dick after he got lost at the museum. He’s the most outwardly affectionate of all the children, but his Terrible Twos are also the worst when he uses his limited vocabulary to argue with Bruce at every step. He’s also jealous when he’s no longer an only child and makes a big fuss at first before accepting it.

Although Barbara has her own parents, the Waynes and the Gordons are very familiar with each other, both through Bruce and the Commissioner’s friendship and babysitting each other’s kids. Dick is more active, but Barbara learns to speak first and can even read the alphabet by the time they’re in daycare. Her parents try to limit screen time at home, but at the Manor, she learns to ask Alexa to play Little Einstein. Dick is also personally offended when he offers her his favorite candy and she goes blegh.

Cass comes 3 years later, and she’s the baby you can’t let out of sight unless you feel like searching the whole house. She’ll hide anywhere, from under the bed to the trunk of the car. Selina suggests a cat bell, but Cass quickly learns to take it off. At first they think it’s because she’s shy, but it turns out she just prefers to watch people from a distance. Playing the Barbie ballerina music draws her out, though, because she loves twirling around. Cass learns sign language from her aunts Harley and Ivy first, and she makes up some of her own gestures to signal what she wants. Her hair was longer until Dick got peanut butter in it and they all agreed it’s easier to keep it short.

Harper and Cullen are a year apart from each other, with Cullen being Cass’s age. They’re adopted at the same time, though, because it took a while for Bruce to prove that their bio father isn’t fit to be a parent. As a toddler, Harper is pretty independent, including dressing herself and using the bathroom. She likes to take things apart, so Bruce keeps expensive devices out of her reach—not that it works for long (see: Dick). She’s the most vocal baby and the first to learn “bad words” like poo-poo head. She’s the messiest though, often leaving things out and getting upset when people put her things away because she needs them.

Cullen, on the other hand, is more shy from their previous household and takes some time to warm up to people. Bruce encourages him to ask for what he wants and always reassures him that there’s plenty to go around. The first person he grows close to is Cass, who takes him under her wing in a protective way. Together, they like to play pretend as mythical creatures or flip through picture books together despite not knowing how to read. He has a hard time falling asleep, so Bruce reads him stories until he does. On stormy nights, he goes to either Harper or Dick and will climb into their beds without warning. The first time that happened, Dick thought it was the monster from his closet and screamed so loud he woke everyone else up. Once Cullen learns how to use the remote, getting him away from the TV is a daily struggle.

Jason is a year younger than Cass, and he’s a bit of a coin flip. Most days, he’s perfectly well-behaved and will quietly play by himself, especially with the pop-up books. Other days, he’ll throw the worst tantrums and break whatever he gets his hands on. He fights with Dick the most because at the time, he’s the youngest and can get away with more. Eventually, things even out a little and he fits perfectly into the fun-and-mischievous role, earning the affectionate title of Papa’s Little Nightmare, which he wears like a badge of pride whenever he licks people’s forks or sticks his finger up Bruce’s nose. He also likes to watch Alfred cook and his birthmark is his white streak.

A full five years later is Tim, a quiet but observant baby who can learn fast by watching others. He picks up now to climb the banister from Dick, hide in tight spaces from Cass, how to use a hammer from Harper, what shows to watch from Cullen, and how to argue from Jason. He and Jason don’t get along at first because Jason felt like he was being replaced, but they eventually learn to coexist. Tim’s first toy to himself is a plastic camera that shows pictures of cartoon characters. He’s the kid that asks tons of questions, like why Bruce and Selina lock themselves in the bedroom. He also likes to explore and believes any unfamiliar creature is an alien.

I know canonically Steph and Duke are a few years apart, but as babies I headcanon them as “twins” born on the same day to different parents and are two years younger than Tim because it’s cute and chaotic. Sometimes they share things, like their bedroom and toys. Other times, they get double, like two birthday cakes. At least once a week, they’ll try and confuse people by swapping clothes. Duke makes up stories and Steph scribbles out the scenes—sometimes she even does it on paper. If the house isn’t a mess before, then it definitely is with them when Bruce finds fruit gummies in the couch and shoes in the microwave. Instead of blankies and stuffed animals, Steph falls asleep clutching a box of toaster waffles and Duke with a bear-shaped honey bottle. Duke tells anti-jokes that he finds hilarious (“Knock knock” “Who’s there?” “Me!”) while Steph flat-out roasts people (“Dickie smells like icky”). They have concerts where Steph scream-sings while Duke bangs pots and pans. Steph prefers to be on Bruce’s shoulders while Duke clings to his leg. There’s a big Get Along shirt for when the siblings fight, but Steph and Duke just wear it for funsies. Because Tim sometimes gets overlooked, they follow him around like baby ducklings and think he’s the coolest sibling.

Carrie, who’s two years after Steph and Duke, is the most imaginative baby and will loop people in as her side characters. Usually her roleplays involve being wilderness adventurers, after she watched Dora The Explorer. She likes to run around, often wearing a towel cape, and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty or play with things like bugs. She’ll only do baths if she can bring her snorkel and her many pool toys. In the car, no one wants to sit in front of her because she’s a seat-kicker. She’s easily wired even with just a little bit of sugar, so whenever another kid mad at Bruce, they’ll give her a whole bag of candy and set her loose.

Damian is the last one and is three years younger than Carrie. He’s the smallest baby because he was born preterm, and Bruce is also worried because he rarely cries. But when he does, he won’t stop until he wears himself out. Carrie is the most protective of him and Tim thinks he’s secretly an alien (after seeing him hooked to machines in the hospital). Whenever Talia visits, he’ll systematically show her his toys, including his favorite stuffed cow. Besides Mama and Dada, his first words are animal sounds. He also likes art and will poke his head in whenever he sees his siblings drawing. If he senses someone having a bad day, he’ll sit outside their door and wait for them to come out.

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