#maybe I just want someone to be obsessed with me

[paddockletters]

redeemed | lando norris

summary: After a messy breakup, Lando’s fans blame his best friend for ruining his relationship. request: yes! sorry took me too long :(( tbh, this had been sitting in drafts for a while because i wasn’t entirely convinced about it (still not 100%, to be fair), but i thought, “Well, maybe they’ll like it,” so here it issss

landonorris

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landonorris: Another race weekend!

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user1: I want to be Y/N so baaaad🤧 lando’sgf: love you so muchhhh!!!❤️ user2: Y/N made it again in Lando’s post, love them! user3: I’d love a friendship like Lando and Y/N’s 😭😭😭

yourusername: Great weekend, miss you alredy muppet 🤧❤️

landonorris: It was! When are you coming to visit again?

user4: Lando replied to Y/N but not his gf…💀💀 user5: THE fit, THE smile, THE overtakes 😭 user6: She really needs to back off from Lando and Alice user7: Photo 3 >>> everything else 🫠

lando’sgf posted a story.

yourusername

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yourusername: About last month 💗

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carlossainz55: Feeling special for being in your post 🤧

yourusername: You should, cos it won’t happen again 💀

user8: Lando’s smile in the 3rd photo? how do I sign up for your life? 😭 user9: She can’t post without Lando or some driver in it 🤮

user10: True that, she’s all about the fame

user11: living my dream life AND looking flawless while doing it?❤️😭 user12: always getting in the way of Lando and Alice, proper messing with them 🙄

user13: what are you on about? Lando and Y/N have been friends for yearsss 🤡

user14: well, why didn’t anyone know about her till now? she just wants Lando for the fame, no doubt

landonorris posted a story

lando’s gf posted a story.

lando’s gf

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lando’s gf: ❤️❤️

landonorris

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landonorris: Free time when I’m not driving a F1 car around the world

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user15: Lando— HAHAHA

user16: where’s Alice???

user17: y'all are obsessed with his gf, mind your own business ffs

user18: Bet Y/N’s asking Lando not to take Alice 🙄

user19: giiiirl, touch some grass! Alice has been back in her country

user20: Y/N’s always with Lando, so he’s footing the bill for everything

user21: Everything, mate—GP trips, holidays, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got him paying her rent too 🤮

user22: I wouldn’t want to be Alice, seeing Y/N everywhere around Lando 💀

landonorris just posted a story.

yourusername posted a story

yourusername

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yourusername: [No caption]

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user23: an unexpected crossover user24: Oh, so the gold-digger’s moved on to someone else now? user25: Hope you’re proud of yourself for ruining Lando and Alice’s relationship, biTCH user26: Hope you die

carlossainz55: should I feel proud because you went to a Real Madrid match or bad for "L" because you went out with someone from that team???

carlossainz55: nah, estoy orgulloso

user27: stay away from Lando, you slut

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lando’sex-girlfriend

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lando’sex-girlfriend: A little miracle is on the way, and we couldn’t be more excited. 👼

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user28: Nearly had a heart attack, thought Lando was going to be a dad 😭😭😭 user29: No way, she was the one who cheated 💀 user30: 💀

landonorris

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landonorris:  I lost the best thing in my life because of all of you.

Because of your words, your hate, your accusations. You turned her into the villain when all she ever was, was my best friend.

You all tore us apart, pushed me to let go of the one person who truly mattered, all because you couldn’t mind your own business.

And now, seven months later, I see the truth—she was never the problem. I was. I should’ve fought for her. But instead, I let you win.

I’ll never forgive myself for that. I lost her because of you.

—Lando

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user31: lando, you did what you thought was best at the time. We’re all human, and nobody should have been attacking her like that

user32: we judged her without knowing the full story 🤧

user33: can’t believe we believed the lies

user 34: I feel so bad now

danielricciardo: Lando, I’ve got your back. It’s crazy how people act like they know your life when they don’t 🤛

user35: It’s hard to see things clearly when the pressure is on you. Glad you’re speaking out now, nobody deserves that kind of hate, especially someone as good

user36: It’s obvious she meant a lot to you but the media and fans never understood that

user37: We were too quick to judge her

maxverstappen1: People love to talk without knowing the full story. Stay strong, mate, always here if you need to talk 🤜🤜

time skip

landonorris

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landonorris: I don’t think there’s anyone who deserves this more than her. From being the absolute boss she is in everything she touches to owning this year’s CEO of the Year award (seriously, she’s amazing), I couldn’t be prouder I of course I’m the best wag

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user38: YOUR WIFE?!?!? 😱 i can’t even process it. Lando, what’s happening?!

user39: wait, I thought you were single?? How did we miss this??

user40: no… I THOUGHT THE WERE FRIENDSS????

user41: wait a damn minute—Lando’s married??!! And she’s holding CEO of the year??? I need answers 😭

user42: OH MY GODDD She’s literally living the dream!! And Lando, we all knew you were the best, but now you’ve just confirmed it

user43: HE’S MARRIED?!? And she’s CEO OF THE YEAR?!?! You guys are literally goals

user44: i’m happy for you but also I’m crying in my room so… mixed emotions 🫠🧡

user45: Y/N is literally TOO perfect and it’s offensive to the rest of us 😭😭😭

user46: No hate, but also… I’m fighting for my life over here while Y/N is living my dream 😭

user47: @/yourusername you wake up every day and think, ‘how can I flex on everyone today?’ Because wow 💀

[karthara]

Ok, first of all, uncharitable take here. Fuck you. Don't bully queer people you think are 'weird'. Calling a group weird and obsessive and suggesting that they were once harry potter fans at some point if they are like this is mean. You are implying a threat to cut them out of the queer community by phrasing it like that. Exclusionists suck, don't be one, queer people have enough enemies. Now that I have that out of my system.

While I hate that woman as much as the next queer person, why do you have an issue with using a cultural touchstone as a way to understand the self and connect with other people? Maybe I'm getting caught up on the 'for preteens' bit here. It feels a bit too much like all the people who think you should quietly exit fandom once you hit the 20-25 age range and settle down and pop out and raise babies for the rest of your life instead of having interests and hobbies. I understand a dislike of commercial properties and not wanting to be chained to someone who can be easily swayed by profit margins, but I feel part of being in fandom spaces is delving into the stories and world building and picking up bits you love and letting ideas that may be new to you expand your understanding of the world. To me it doesn't matter if the stories in question were written a long time ago and some 'smart educated' people decided they were worthy or if it's some fan fiction someone threw up on the internet on a drunken whim. If you find a story that evokes thought and feeling, isn't that a good thing? Maybe it's my mental health issues, but I don't see any problem with clinging to something that brings you joy if you're not hurting someone else. Maybe because I was bullied a lot as a child I'm overreacting here, but just… why do you feel the need to needle people you think are being 'weird'? I know we all feel like we're safe here under our rock on the tumblrs, but it's still a public forum. The things you say do reach other people. Honestly you sound like someone who just turned 18 and is desperately trying to prove how 'adult' you are by setting aside anything fun. Why do you feel the need to try and lift yourself up by putting other people down? Because that's what you are doing here. Good for you if you're 'too grown up' to get into 'children's stories', but please don't shit on those of us who find something to enjoy. If people want to find or make a flag that is specifically for their lived experience, is that harming anyone? No. Let people have fun with things.

do you think that a certain genre of queer person is so obsessively weird about pride flag discourse becuase their flags fill the gaping hole in their personality where a hogwarts house used to be

[thef1diary]

hi!! first of all wanted to say that i LOVE your work! I'd like to request a smut <3

so i was thinking about carlos w a somno kink, praise kink and some dacryphilia. i'd also like an innocence kink so maybe like inexperienced!reader. oh, and aftercare too! thanks ^_^

Deep Dark Desire | C. Sainz

warnings: 18+ content, dark!carlos, non-con, possessive!carlos, hint of stalker behaviour, manipulation, carlos sneaking sleeping pills in food, somnophilia, oral, fingering, innocent!virgin!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, mentions of pregnancy, aftercare.

wc: 6.5k

— this is a dark fic! please read the warnings and do not read this fic if any of the topics make you uncomfortable. Don’t like, don’t read!

The aroma of something sweet and savoury greeted you the moment you stepped through the door. You let the weight of the day melt off your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes, too tired to process anything beyond the simple comfort of being home. Carlos was already in the kitchen, his dark hair slightly tousled and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he stirred a pot on the stove.

He turned at the sound of your soft footsteps, his face lighting up with a smile that was all warmth and devotion. “There you are, princesa,” he said, setting the spoon down to cross the room to stand in front of you. His hands found your shoulders immediately, his thumbs pressing gently into the tense muscles there. “Long day?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch with a sigh. Carlos had a way of making you feel cared for in ways you hadn’t known you needed. He always seemed to know what you wanted before you did—what to say, how to look at you, how to touch you just enough to make your heart flutter but not so much that you’d question the boundaries of your relationship.

“I made dinner,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided you to the kitchen table. “Sit. Eat. Let me take care of you.”

You sank into the chair, too weary to protest. Carlos placed a steaming plate in front of you, the dish carefully prepared, every detail perfect. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort he’d gone to, even after such a long day himself.

“You’re too good to me,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

His smile deepened, but there was something in his gaze—something you couldn’t quite name. It was too intense, too knowing, as though he were looking at more than just your face. It made your stomach twist, though you quickly dismissed it as exhaustion.

Carlos sat across from you, his elbows resting on the table as he watched you eat. His presence was comforting, grounding. And yet, there was an edge to his attention that you never noticed, a shadow lurking beneath the surface of his affection.

Because while you saw only his patience—his endless sweetness, his gentle guidance—there was so much more to Carlos that you didn’t see. That he didn’t let you see…yet.

You didn’t see the way his hands tightened into fists every time someone else’s name—especially a man’s name—slipped into your stories from work. You didn’t hear the quiet, possessive promises whispered into the stillness of the apartment when you were sound asleep. You didn’t know how carefully he kept track of your every habit, your every move, until he knew you better than you knew yourself. It was how he managed to charm you into a relationship with him in the first place. 

From the moment he saw you, he was smitten. Carlos loved you. But as time went on, the more he found the extent of your innocence—the very one that made you pliable and trusting. He loved that you let him lead in all aspects, oblivious to the dark currents beneath his tenderness. It was those very thoughts about you he held close that turned his love for you into a crazed obsession.

You had no idea that the man who seemed so devoted, so perfect, would do anything to keep you his—even if it meant crossing lines you didn’t yet know existed.

“Eat, nena,” he said softly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. His fingers brushed your wrist, lingering just a moment too long. “You need to keep your strength up.”

And as you took another bite, smiling faintly at his concern, you missed the way his gaze darkened, the way his lips curved into a smile that wasn’t sweet at all.

Carlos rested his chin on his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you as you took careful bites of the meal he had prepared. Your free hand held his other hand, his thumb tracing slow, soothing patterns. Every so often, you’d glance up at him, smiling softly, touched by the care he had put into it. The flavours were rich and comforting, the kind of food that made you feel safe. You wondered, briefly, how you’d gotten so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

But as you ate, a question tugged at the back of your mind. You set your fork down gently and tilted your head. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Carlos’ lips twitched into a faint smile, and he shook his head. “Not yet. This one’s special. Just for you.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your cheeks flush slightly. You didn’t even consider questioning him further. Of course, he would do something like this—go out of his way to make you feel cared for without expecting anything in return. That’s just how Carlos is.

Still, there was something about the way he said ‘special’ that lingered in your mind, a weight to the word you couldn’t quite place. But the thought slipped away as a wave of exhaustion rolled over you, your body suddenly heavy and your eyelids drooping.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your head as if to clear it. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” you murmured, dropping his hand and rubbing at your temple. “I wasn’t this bad earlier.”

Carlos’ expression shifted instantly, his brows furrowing with concern as he leaned closer to you. His hand found yours again—not able to handle the sudden loss of warmth—his thumb brushing soothing circles over your skin.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. His other hand reached out, fingertips brushing your forehead as if to check for a fever. “You’ve had a long day, mi vida. You need to rest.”

You wanted to smile at his worry, to reassure him that it was nothing serious. But your head felt so heavy, the corners of your vision blurring as your body sagged further into the chair. You fought against the haze, focusing on the soft lines of Carlos’ face, his worried eyes, the way his lips pressed together in a tight line.

If only you’d known the truth behind that worry. If only you’d seen the darkness that twisted through the depths of his concern.

“Here,” he murmured, reaching for the glass of water on the table. He pressed it into your hand, guiding it to your lips. “Drink this, cariño. And then go lie down. I’ll clean up.”

You shook your head weakly, your grip on the glass faltering as you set it down. “No, I’ll finish my food first. You put so much effort into this for me…”

Carlos’ hand hovered near yours, as though ready to steady you if you faltered again. His smile was small, patient, but there was a flicker of something sharper in his gaze—something you didn’t notice in your foggy state.

“You’re too kind,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “Always thinking of others. But I just want you to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, brushing off his suggestion as you picked up your fork again. “Just a little more,” you mumbled.

Carlos didn’t protest, leaning back in his chair as he watched you with an intensity that should have made you shiver. But you were too distracted by the growing weight in your limbs, the way your head felt as if it were floating. Bite by bite, your exhaustion deepened, and you didn’t realize that the cause wasn’t your long day at all—it was the food, his careful planning, and his quiet, calculated patience.

He rested his chin on his palm once more, his smile widening ever so slightly as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “That’s it, nena,” he murmured, his voice almost tender. “You’re doing so well.”

And you, sweet and trusting as always, didn’t think to question the strange satisfaction in his voice.

The room seemed to spin slightly as you set your fork down, the last few bites of your meal left untouched. You blinked, trying to focus on Carlos’ face, but even that felt like too much effort. Your head lolled to the side as a sleepy giggle escaped your lips, the kind of unguarded sound that came when exhaustion stripped you of your usual composure.

“Carlos, baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmured, your words slurring slightly. “I’m so… tired.”

He was already by your side, his hands steady as they slipped beneath your arms to lift you from the chair. “Shh, nena,” he cooed, his voice soft and soothing. “Let me take care of you. You’ve done enough today.”

Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. Your arms looped lazily around his neck, and you let out another sleepy giggle, your breath warm against his skin.

“I can walk, you know,” you mumbled, though the comfort of his hold was undeniable.

Carlos chuckled, the sound deep and warm, “you’re barely awake, mi vida. Let me spoil you a little.”

He carried you to the bedroom, his movements careful and deliberate as though he were handling something fragile. The dim light of the room seemed to blur at the edges as he set you down on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment too long.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He helped you out of your clothes, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart flutter even in your haze. You didn’t question it, didn’t register the way his touch lingered, how his gaze darkened as you were left in nothing but your undergarments and put into one of his long shirts.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It felt like a dream, the world around you fading as you slipped deeper into the heavy pull of sleep.

“Goodnight, princesa,” he whispered against your lips, his voice velvet-soft.

But as your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing evened out, Carlos lingered. He didn’t even manage to pull the blanket over you before he noticed how still you’d become, how utterly weightless you were in the depths of sleep. He called your name softly at first, his hand brushing your cheek, but there was no response.

His lips curved into a slow, dark smile, the shadows in his expression deepening as he realized you were completely at his mercy.

“So perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He traced a finger along your jawline, down the slope of your neck. “You don’t even know, do you? How much I crave you.” 

His hand paused, hovering over your collarbone as his breath hitched slightly. “So innocent,” he whispered, his tone laced with something heavier, something darker. “And mine.”

Carlos let the words hang in the air, savouring the weight of them as he gazed down at you—his perfect little captive in a dark world you’d never even imagined existed.

There was a fragile innocence to the way you looked now, the soft lines of your face unburdened by the day’s worries, the slight parting of your lips as you breathed peacefully. He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, his touch featherlight as if you might shatter beneath anything stronger.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, mi vida,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room. “How much I—” his words faltered, caught between his throat and his heart. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to exhale slowly. “How much I adore you.”

His fingers traced a path down your arm, stopping just above your wrist, where he lingered. You were so trusting, so unguarded with him. It filled him with an overwhelming ache, a desire to protect you, to shield you from the world. Yet that same trust was a double-edged sword, cutting deep into the darker corners of his mind where thoughts twisted into obsessions he could never confess.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Too kind. Too pure.” Each word carried the weight of unspoken truths, emotions he’d buried due to fear of frightening you. You deserved someone gentler, someone who wouldn’t feel this burning need to keep you so close, to ensure you never left his side.

But you were his. You just didn’t know how much just yet. 

A pang of need coursed through him—deep, consuming, and utterly unrelenting. A lazy smirk graced his lips, his hands wandering over your body more than he’s ever done before. He didn’t stop, after all this was all part of his plan—his carefully crafted plan that would allow him to do whatever he pleased with you.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, almost as if confessing to himself. His hand moved instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch so tender it could’ve been mistaken for reverence. “How much I need you, completely.” 

His mind wandered to your words from a few months ago, when you first began dating. You had sweetly confessed in a meek tone that you wanted to wait until marriage for any intimacy. At the time, he had nodded, reassured you that he understood and respected your decision. And he had, for a while. But with each passing day, every innocent touch from you, every fleeting moment of closeness, the restraint he prided himself on was unraveling. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, the words heavier this time, steeped in a quiet obsession. “You’ll always be mine.”

Carlos leaned down, his lips hovering just above your temple. He kissed you there softly, lingering as he inhaled the faint scent of your skin. The thought of you saving yourself for some abstract moment in the future felt intolerable now. A ring? A ceremony? Those things were meaningless to him. You were already his in every way that mattered. Every way but one, which he had planned on changing tonight. 

“It doesn’t matter, right princesa?” he whispered as if conversing with your unconscious body. “A piece of paper won’t change what we are. What we’ll always be.” 

You were an angel in his eyes—pure, untouchable—and yet he couldn’t stop acting on the darker thoughts that had crept in his mind. “You’ll let me take you now, right?” he asked, a wicked smile tugging at his lips when you didn’t respond. 

“You’ll understand one day. You’d forgive me because you love me,” he spoke, relieved, finding a justification for what he was about to do. Love. 

His fingers trailed down your body, finding the hem of your shirt. He inhaled deeply before pulling it up, revealing your bare skin underneath. The glow of the moonlight streaming through the curtains bathed you in a silver hue, making you seem almost otherworldly in his eyes.

He leaned forward, his knees sinking into the mattress as he settled between your legs, his body close but not touching yours just yet. Carlos lowered his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your stomach in the gentlest kiss. The warmth of your skin beneath his mouth sent a shiver coursing through him, and he allowed himself a quiet sigh, his breath fanning over you.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and something deeper, darker. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles over your skin. The rise and fall of your breathing was steady, unbroken, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how serene you looked, so trusting, so utterly unaware of the storm of emotions raging within him.

Carlos trailed another kiss just above your navel, the soft press of his lips lingering as though he could imprint the moment into his memory. His free hand slid up along your side, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your ribs as he murmured softly, “I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Carlos continued his trail of kisses, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower stomach before stopping just above the edge of your panties. He nearly hesitated, letting the intimacy of the moment build, before pressing his lips firmly against the soft cotton. The barrier of fabric only spurred his imagination further, and he closed his eyes as if savouring the moment.

His teeth grazed the edge of the fabric, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Carefully, he bit down, trapping the waistband between his teeth. He tilted his head, pulling the material taut as it lifted slightly away from your skin. 

Carlos released the fabric, letting it snap back against your skin with a quick sound that sent a shiver of satisfaction through him. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid down to your hip, his grip firm but not overbearing.

“You don’t even know how perfect you are,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His lips hovered just above your skin as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your bare stomach. “Every inch of you, so soft, so untouched. You drive me insane, mi vida.”

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your leg, his touch featherlight yet deliberate, igniting a trail of warmth beneath his fingertips. He traced the edge of your panties, his thumb brushing over the thin fabric that covered the most intimate part of you. The part he was never allowed to touch. 

The heat radiating from your body made his breath catch in his throat. His hand dipped lower, his fingers pressing lightly against your cunt, feeling the warmth and softness beneath the barrier of fabric. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he pressed a single finger against your covered clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles.

Carlos lowered his head, his lips so close now that his breath fanned over you, hot and unsteady. He paused, savouring the moment, before pressing a kiss right where his fingers had been, the contact soft yet deliberate. The fabric between you only added to his desire, a fleeting barrier that made the moment feel even more tantalizing.

Filled with dark intent, he glanced at you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest to confirm you were still asleep. His hands moved with purpose now, his fingers hooking onto your panties. Carefully, he pulled the fabric to the side, his movements unhurried as if he had all the time in the world with your pliant body. His eyes darkened, breath hitching as he finally saw you all in your glory. He dragged his fingers over your now bare pussy, teasing the slit, separating your delicate folds. 

The sight of your glistening pussy was too tempting to resist. He swiped his tongue across his lips, aching to taste your sweet cunt. “See, I knew you’d like this,” he whispered, watching your wetness grow with each slide of his fingers, coating them completely. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me have you, nena.” 

He collected your slickness on his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as he slipped them between his lips, his tongue swirling around them greedily. The taste of you consumed him, rich and intoxicating, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the quiet room. 

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against his fingers, as though tasting you had confirmed something he’d always known. His gaze flickered back to you, his expression filled with a mix of awe and hunger. 

His hand returned to your thighs, holding you gently yet firmly in place as though you might stir and pull away. But you didn’t move, your body relaxed and unaware under his touch. He let his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses as his other hand returned to your pussy. His fingers traced over you again, teasingly light, as though memorizing every moment. 

“Dios mío,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

Finally, he pressed a lingering kiss to your bare pussy, his lips soft and warm against your folds. He started slowly, careful not to jolt you awake, his tongue tracing a gentle path along your slit. A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrating against you as he savoured every second. 

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled by his proximity. His tongue flicked over your clit with teasing precision before returning to lap at you more fully, his movements unhurried and methodical. Each stroke of his tongue was a worshipful caress, his hands holding your thighs steady as he worked. 

Carlos alternated between firm, deliberate licks and soft, teasing circles over your clit, his mouth devouring you with a hunger he could no longer restrain. His fingers dug into your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises behind. 

“Absolutely perfect,’ he said between kisses, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue delving deeper as his lips sealed over you, sucking gently before pulling away with a soft, wet sound. 

A low groan bubbled from your throat, making him pause. He glanced up at you from between your legs but you were still sucked into the depths of sleep. He chuckled, almost in awe at your subconscious reaction. “Mm, there we go, I know you like this.”

While he continued flicking his tongue over your clit mercilessly, his fingers teased your hole. He couldn’t believe it’s been untouched all your life—even you hadn’t dared to learn how to please yourself, leaving it up to your future husband. He found it rather cute, so innocent. He wished you allowed him to fuck you while you were conscious just so he could see your eyes rolling back, your lips parting as a soft sweet moan would’ve escaped when he slid his finger inside. 

Instead, he had to settle for a groan that came from him when you shifted just an inch. Your pussy swallowed his finger greedily, clenching around him as it struggled to decide if it was a welcomed intrusion or not.�� 

Carlos retreated his finger, briefly glancing at the wetness that coated it before pushing back in. He set a steady pace, allowing your body to become accustomed to the unusual intrusion before adding another finger. He curled them inside, and if you were conscious, perhaps you would arch your back as pleas left your lips. 

His hardened cock ached to be released from the confines of his boxers, precum staining them yet he focused on your pleasure first. He might’ve chosen to take you in a vulnerable moment, one in which you had no say, but he wasn’t cruel. He settled on moving his hips against the mattress, allowing temporary relief while he prepped you to take him. 

He was now three fingers deep in your cunt, scissoring and curling them inside to prepare you for the inevitable stretch his cock will provide. Leaning closer, he wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking sharply in time with his quickening thrusts. Wetness gushed around him, coating his lips and fingers, even dripping down to stain the sheets beneath you. Pressing one last kiss to your cunt, he retreated his fingers completely, watching your pussy gape before clenching around air, searching for the lost pleasure. 

“Patience, nena, I know what your pretty little pussy needs,” he murmured breathlessly. 

He leaned back, kneeling on the bed as he hooked his fingers in his sweatpants and boxers in one go before sliding them down together and tossing the clothes aside. His hard, leaking cock ached to be inside you, enveloped by the warmth that only your virgin pussy would provide. His fingers dipped inside your cunt, collecting your wetness before wrapping his hand around himself. He smeared your slickness all over his cock, mixing with his precum that dripped from the tip. 

Carlos dropped his head back, moaning shamelessly as he worked his hand over himself. Whispered curses left his lips mixed with murmurs of your name as he neared the edge rather too quickly. He shut his eyes tightly when he forced himself to slow down his pace, not wanting his fantasy to be over before it even properly started. 

When he opened his eyes, he looked at you—still unaware, softly snoring away. He smiled as he trailed his gaze over your body, but when he reached the beautiful sight between your legs, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, preventing another moan from being unleashed. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, almost overcome with another wave of dark intent swirling in his mind. Holding his cock in one hand, he lowered his body, settling between your thighs again. The first swipe of his tip along your cunt had him shuddering with pleasure. 

Separating your delicate folds with his cock, he nudged your clit a few times. Your pussy twitched around him, and feeling that sensation through his cock only reaffirmed his reasons as to why he chose to do this. He was already obsessed, but that one taste of your cunt turned him feral, unable to restrain himself any further. He was too far gone, and he wouldn’t stop until he was buried deep inside you. 

He slid his cock lower, guiding it towards your hole. Inch by inch, he pressed inside. Your tight cunt almost naturally pushed him out, your sleeping state squirming at the thick intrusion. He didn’t relent, he was going to have you one way or another. Bringing his free hand closer, his fingers circled your clit slowly, allowing you to open up to him. 

“C’mon, princesa, I know you can take all of me,” he gritted through his teeth, your tightness almost overwhelming for him. 

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in, forcing you to take him an inch deeper this time. His pace on your clit remained merciless and as he repeated his movements a few times, he was soon completely buried inside your pussy. 

A low exhale left his lips as he savoured the tight walls of your cunt holding him inside, the heat welcoming him graciously. He held himself above you by his hands on each side of your head, his face hovering close to yours. “Thank you, mi vida, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he whispered almost reverently to your sleeping state. 

Inhaling deeply, he began moving slowly, barely pulling out before burying himself to the hilt again. Burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, he set a steady pace of his hips moving back and forth. He placed lingering kisses below your ear, murmuring low praises in between his moans. 

Your pussy greedily sucked him back in every time, earning a dark chuckle from him. “Oh, my sweet girl, if only you hadn’t made me wait so long.” 

He slammed his hips into yours sharply, angling deep inside you to earn a twitch of your body. “I tried, you know, I really did,” he confessed, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “But every time you wore those—mierda—skimpy clothes around me,” he panted softly, “it was too hard.”

He continued whispering all his deepest, darkest confessions in your ear, knowing you weren’t awake to listen. “Had to jerk off so many times in the shower, thinkin’ ‘bout your sweet voice, to the way you say my name.” 

As his words turned filthier, mingling with scattered praises, he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming borderline brutal. Your body squirmed beneath him, jolting with the movements of the mattress shaking due to his weight. The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust, but he was lost in the pleasure of your tight cunt to notice. 

“I love you so much, mi princesa, and I promise I’ll give you a ring,” he reasoned, his thoughts melting into one jumbled mess. “Jus’ couldn’t wait.” 

Suddenly, a loud broken cry left your lips as your body jolted beneath him. His movements faltered, watching you with wide eyes as you forced yourself to wake. When your gaze met his, a shroud of horror overtook your emotions. “Carlos—” you gasped, your mouth dropping open as you slowly realized the vulnerable position you were in. 

He should’ve stopped, should’ve slipped out of your cunt the moment he realized you were awake—too early, he noted—but he didn’t. Sliding out almost completely, he slammed his hips into yours, his cock forcing itself into your cunt. 

You screamed, horrified, yet it was tinged with a hint of pleasure—the only reaction he focused on. “Mi vida,” he tried, only to be met with a sudden force of your arms trying to push him away. 

He merely chuckled, watching as you grew impatient with each shove yet you were still too weak, slowly coming to from the effects of the sleeping pill he had slipped into your meal. Tears filled your eyes when you realized he wasn’t relenting, your lip wobbling as fear filled your body. 

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, bringing his fingers to your face, lightly brushing your cheek. “No, don’t cry, nena, I only want you to feel good,” he cooed.

His words clashed with his actions, his voice still dripping with sweetness but his cock continued to bully to your pussy. “Why?” you croaked, eyes nearly rolling back as an unwanted wave of pleasure coursed through you. 

“Because I love you,” he simply replied, but it wasn’t the words you were hoping to hear. How could he love you and still force his way into your cunt, without your permission? 

This wasn’t the Carlos you fell in love with, no, he was kind and caring. But now, trapped beneath him, you only saw desire in his eyes, those very eyes that once looked at you fondly were now replaced with the reflection of every dark thought that lodged its way into his mind. 

His fingers returned to your clit, circling in time with his thrusts, earning a broken moan from you. A wicked smile graced his lips as he finally heard the sweet sound of your pleasure. “You like this,” he said calmly but you didn’t agree. 

You began shaking your head violently, trying to contain the moans leaving your lips but it was too hard. This was the first time you were bestowed with such pleasure, enveloping you completely. You never expected it to happen this way, your virginity taken not by your husband on your wedding night but stolen from your boyfriend with cruel intentions. 

“No, no, no, please stop,” you pleaded, but your actions weren’t cooperating with your words. Your legs tightened around his waist as you inched closer to the edge of your very first orgasm.

“Make up your mind, nena, you say you don’t want me, and yet…” he trailed off, angling his hips differently to thrust deeper inside, earning another moan you couldn’t contain. “...you’re clinging to me so desperately.”

“Please,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“Please what? Let me make you feel good, like you deserve,” he punctuated his words with deliberate thrusts. Pleasure coursed through your veins like a spark, clouding your better judgement as you fell closer and closer to giving in. 

When you didn’t respond, he doubled down, slipping his cock out of you for a brief moment, earning a cry of loss from your lips. He grinned, knowing he nearly had you exactly where he wanted you—begging, pleading to let you cum. “You’re mine, we both know that, why wait?” 

He didn’t give you time to process his words, his strength overpowering yours as he flipped you over effortlessly, pressing you face down into the mattress. His hands gripped your shoulders with firm control, guiding you back onto his cock with a deliberate and unyielding force that left you breathless. 

Each thrust of his hips drew muffled moans from your lips, the sounds swallowed by the soft embrace of the bedding as you buried your face to stifle your cries. Any semblance of dignity you had clung to slipped away completely, shattered the moment his hands claimed you with ill intentions—so dominating, so consuming that resistance felt futile. 

His chest pressed flush against your back, the heat of his skin searing into yours as he slowed his pace, trading relentless urgency for deep, deliberate strokes. Each thrust felt more intense, his cock filling you completely, dragging out every sensation as he ground himself deeper with agonizing precision. 

A shiver ran down your spine as his lips brushed against the back of your neck, soft and teasing as first, until he began trailing kisses lower. His lips moved with purpose, leaving a blazing path over the curve of your shoulder blades, before his teeth grazed your skin. 

You gasped in surprise when he sucked harder, his mouth marking you with a bruise that promised to linger long after this moment. The sharp sting melded with the overwhelming pleasure, leaving you caught in a haze of sensation you couldn’t escape—ones he wouldn’t let you escape. 

Each kiss, each bite, each slow, grinding thrust made it harder to think, harder to hold on to anything but the raw desire pooling in your core. 

Your body trembled beneath him, every thrust breaking down the last of your defences, leaving you raw and exposed. The slow grind of his hips was torture, pushing you to the brink only to pull back, keeping you on the edge until the need became unbearable. You clawed at the sheets, your whimpers turning into desperate pleas as the fire in your core burned hotter, threatening to consume you. 

“Please,” you gasped, your voice muffled against the mattress. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. Just—just take me. I’ll do anything.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he drove into you harder, his pace quickening, his control slipping. “Anything, huh?” his voice was rough, dripping with amusement and something darker, something that made your entire body shiver. “You’re finally giving in, princesa? Finally ready to stop pretending you don’t want this?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you surrendered completely. “I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Good girl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust harder, deeper, making you cry out. “That’s what I wanted to hear. You, begging for me. Pleading for me to fuck you.” 

Your pussy clenched around him, the coil of pleasure winding impossibly tight as his words sent sparks of heat racing through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus on anything but him—his touch, his voice, the way he owned you completely. 

“Gonna fill you with my cum, nena,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna get you pregnant with my babies before I even put a ring on your finger. How’s that for waiting ‘til marriage?”

The filthy promise made your head spin, the image too vivid, too overwhelming. The heat in your core shattered, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm washed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace growing erratic as your cunt milked him, dragging him to the edge. “You’re so perfect—so fucking perfect.” 

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his release spilling into you in hot pulsing waves. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he let out a low, guttural groan. 

“You feel that?” he murmured against your ear, his voice still rough, still full of that possessive edge that made you weak. “That’s me, claiming you. Making you mine.” 

You couldn’t utter a word, your thoughts racing through your mind before you could comprehend them. Your body was still trembling as he stayed there, buried deep inside you, his hands never letting go. Finally, he eased out, earning a low, almost silent whimper from you. He carefully turned you around, able to see your tinged cheeks stained with tears. 

He gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. His cock twitched at the sight of your teary eyes, and the dark intensity in his gaze made your heart race, even as a sly, satisfied smirk spread across his lips. 

“See, I know exactly what you want, what you need,” he said, his tone teasing but firm. “Don’t ever try to deny me again, nena, because this? This is just the beginning.”

His grip loosened, fingers brushing over your jaw as his smirk softened into something almost tender. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming, his tongue coaxing yours into submission. It wasn’t rough like before—it was possessive in a different way, claiming you in the quiet aftermath of his dominance. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the intensity in his gaze began to soften.

“You took me so well,” he murmured, his voice low and warm now, threading a hand through your hair. “Better than I could’ve imagined. You’re perfect, nena, just like this.”

He eased you back against the mattress, his body still covering yours but lighter now, more protective than overwhelming. His thumb stroked over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear as his lips brushed against your temple. 

He cupped your face, tilting it up toward him again, his expression softer, though the possessiveness still lingered in his eyes. “Stay here,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping away.

You heard the sound of water running, the rustle of fabric as he moved around, and when he returned, he had a warm, damp cloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He settled beside you, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleaned you up, murmuring soothing words each time you winced from the sensitivity.

“You did so good for me, princesa,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your hip as he worked. “Took everything I gave you like you were made for it.”

When he finished, he set the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. His chest was solid against your cheek, his heartbeat steady and grounding as he stroked your back in slow, comforting circles.

“Gotta make sure my girl’s okay,” he said softly, the edge of dominance in his voice replaced with something deeper, almost protective. “You’re mine, nena. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to ruin in all the ways you crave. And I’ll never let anything or anyone take you away from me.”

[fangdokja]

"The Genshin Yandere You Picked Could Have a Lot to Say About Your… Interests"

❤︎ Synopsis. Ever wonder what your Genshin Yandere says about your deepest, darkest desires? It’s memes, it’s psychoanalysis, and it’s all wrapped in a kinky, chaotic package—don’t say I didn’t warn you.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Genshin Impact Males (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif, Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney, Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao) x Fem. Reader (separate)

♡ Headcanons. What Your Favorite Genshin Yandere REALLY Says About You

♡ Word Count. 4,543

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, general manipulation, forced relationship, suggestive content, kinks

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age. This post is meant to be a fun, exaggerated meme—don’t take it too seriously. It’s all in good humor and not a deep psychological analysis (but maybe a little bit).

♡ A/N. So I made a shiz post. Not really meant to be taken seriously. But you know me, I’m an analysis kind of person. So formatting is basically in shiz post and memes, but actually has a bit of substance. Hope this makes you laugh even a bit, because I’m not really a comedic person lol. Either way, take this with a grain of salt.

♡ Alhaitham.

You’re into men who think they’re smarter than you (and they are, but that’s hot, isn’t it?). You think intellectual superiority is the hottest thing ever. You’re also into intellectual domination and being lectured until your self-esteem breaks. You’ve fantasized about him tying you up and reading a book in front of you, completely ignoring your pleas. You like intellectual degradation and secretly want to be turned into his thesis project.

“This is for your intellectual growth,” he says as you cry. You probably think him not texting you back is hot. You think being told, “I calculated the exact number of steps you’d take to escape me” is foreplay.

You want someone who pretends they don’t care but will burn the world for you if someone breathes wrong in your direction. You want someone who’ll hold you in their lap while casually explaining how they’ve systematically dismantled your social circle.

Bonus points if he makes you think it was your idea to begin with. Intellectual bullying? Yes, please. A sucker for a man who could explain the quadratic formula during foreplay.

You tell yourself you like being independent, but you'd fold if he told you to "be good." You’re secretly into being gaslit but only if he uses big words. You’re also not above fantasizing about being “punished” for distracting his reading.

Congratulations, you’re a closet masochist with a thing for emotionally constipated intellectuals.

Kink Radar: You’re into praise kink, degradation kink, and whatever that thing called “debates as foreplay” counts as. Probably have a thing for cold shoulders and veins.

♡ Diluc Ragnvindr.

You’re into cold hands, warm heart, and fiery jealousy. Daddy issues, but in a classy, vineyard-owning kind of way. Daddy issues, but you call it "noble aesthetic.".

Anyways, let’s not sugarcoat it—you want a grumpy, overprotective man who forces you to stay in the mansion “for your safety.” Bonus points if he’s whispering threats to anyone who even breathes in your direction. You crave the unhinged dichotomy of a man who burns for you literally and figuratively but is too emotionally constipated to say it.

Also, you’re not-so-secretly into being locked in his wine cellar for your “own good” while he makes dramatic speeches about how you’re his light in the darkness. Your kink is accidental house arrest. Therapy? No, you’re just drinking the pain away with his vintage wine.

You’ve 100% thought about him showing up at your window at midnight, drenched from the rain, and saying something like, “You’re the only light I have left.” You think about his gloved hands choking you more than you should, but you call it “character analysis.”

You have a savior complex, but you also want to be choked in leather gloves. The “I’m doing this to protect you” energy gets you off faster than pyro damage in Dragonspine.

Kink Radar: Choking, crying, and “oops, I burned the ropes tying you up because I was too mad at myself” energy. Definitely into angry possessiveness.

♡ Zhongli (Rex Lapis / Morax).

Oh, so you’re into commitment. You dream of being crushed under a 6000-year-old rock of possessive love. But you also have a crippling sugar baby fantasy. You want a sugar daddy (but is broke 90% of the time) who treats you like glassware and controls your entire life because "you’re fragile and need his guidance."

You like being called “my little treasure” and having absolutely zero autonomy because this man would straight-up lock you in his golden birdcage while lecturing you about Liyue history. You probably want him to immortalize you in amber, literally. You’re into the “old-world charm” yanderes who would write a 100-page contract explaining why your freedom is “optional.” Don’t lie; you want to be part of his private collection of treasures.

The thought of him calmly reciting an obscure contract about why you’ll never leave him is weirdly hot to you. You’d let him gaslight you with a poetic monologue and then say “thank you” afterward. You’re into elegant, obsessive types who’ll make your imprisonment feel like royalty.

You want to be worshipped but also dominated in the most poetic way possible. You’ve imagined him making you sign a contract for cuddles. The thought of someone dragging you into their Dragon Hoard of Love™ has you feral. You romanticize Stockholm Syndrome because "he’s so ancient and wise about it."

You’ve also said “step on me, sir” unironically at least once in your life.

And, you probably fantasize about ancient contracts where you sign away your freedom in exchange for a lifetime of… rock-hard devotion.

Financial domination? More like Geo domination. You don’t just want possessiveness—you want eternal possessiveness. You’re into people who could both murder and write a historical dissertation about it.

You probably fantasize about being bound in Geo constructs, don’t lie.

Kink Radar: Overstimulation, bondage with literal geo constructs, and being worshipped like you’re his next Archon War relic.

♡ Dainsleif.

Forbidden love makes you weak, and you absolutely want him to chain you up for your safety. You have abandonment issues but also a self-destructive urge to “fix him.” You love the idea of someone who’d never leave you… like, ever. You’re deeply into the “tragic, brooding antihero with a dark past” trope. You want someone who will carry the emotional baggage of a small country while whispering about your "fragile mortality."

You’re also into tragic, self-loathing men who would rather die than admit they’re obsessed with you (but they’re following you anyway). “Dark knight” aesthetics send you into a frenzy.

You also like being haunted—emotionally and literally. And you think suffering is sexy.

You want someone who looks like they haven’t had a decent night's sleep in 500 years but still has the energy to stalk you across nations. You’re into suffering, longing stares, and the type of guy who would whisper, "I’ll protect you... from myself," while gripping your arm hard enough to bruise.

You like your yanderes with a heavy dose of existential dread. You also think emotional repression is hot. Also, you're into edgy guys with mysterious pasts who’d probably chain you up in a ruined cathedral and call it “our sanctuary.” Therapy isn’t even an option; you live for the angst.

You’re into angsty, immortal types who’ll lock you away because “the curse must not touch you” while staring into the abyss. Bonus points if he’s crying while he does it.

You probably romanticize your own suffering and call it “tragic beauty.” The whole “watch the world burn while holding your hand” vibe does something unspeakable to you.

Kink Radar: Edging, sadomasochism, and hearing him moan your name like it’s a sacred hymn. Also, you’re here for tragic, apocalyptic slow-burns.

♡ Kamisato Ayato.

Manipulative men in suits? Say less. Soft yandere vibes make you feel safe and horny at the same time. You’re 100% into being kidnapped and pampered like a trophy spouse. You want to be someone’s pet, plain and simple.

You’re into soft power—like tea ceremonies where you’re trapped in his lap and “politely” reminded how easily he can destroy anyone who comes near you. You’d let him manipulate you into thinking you don’t need anyone else.

You want to be the forbidden fruit he protects with subtle yet ruthless domination.

You also have a fantasy about being fed strawberries off a silver platter while he interrogates your entire family. Bet you’re into being tied up with silk ribbons and whispered threats in a refined accent. You have a thing for manipulative control freaks in a suit.

You’re probably into choking but want it done in a classy way, like during afternoon tea. You tell yourself you like him for his elegance and cunning, but we all know it’s because he could pin you to a wall while whispering, “Don’t make me repeat myself."

You also want someone who smiles sweetly while cutting off all your contacts, convincing you that your isolation is just another calculated move in his political game.

You’re down bad for a puppet master.

Kink Radar: Obedience kink, leash play, and being called “good girl.” You want someone classy who also might poison your tea to keep you from leaving the house. Subtle power play and absolutely losing control to a man who never does.

♡ Childe (Tartaglia).

Oh, you’re into chaos and violence.

You’re feral for the “soft boy in the streets, murder machine in the sheets” dynamic. You’re feral for chaos, violence, and men who’d destroy the world for you while also begging for your approval. You’re into morally questionable men with a casual “murder is fine as long as it’s for you” vibe.

You want to be kidnapped by a hot hitman who tells you he’ll let you go after you say you love him. You want someone who’ll kiss you sweetly one moment and laugh maniacally while threatening to slaughter anyone who flirts with you the next.

You probably think being chased around the house with a hydro blade is peak foreplay. You also think a little knife play builds character. You think yanderes should be fun and dangerously hot. Your safe word is probably “Foul Legacy.”

You’re definitely into playful sadism—until it gets serious, and then he’s all “you’re mine, and I’ll destroy the world for you.”

You think it’s cute when someone’s ready to commit war crimes in your name. Bonus points if he’s covered in blood but still flirting.

Knife play, degradation, and the phrase, “If I can’t have you, no one can” make you feral. You think danger is sexy, and yes, you’ve definitely considered letting him stab you just to see the look on his face. You're not well, but neither is he, so it works.

Kink Radar: Biting, knife play, and that whole “I could kill you, but I’d rather make you scream” energy. You love when he switches between “playful” and “I will burn everything for you.” Bloodlust, and probably fighting to near death before making out. Bonus points if there’s a war crime involved.

♡ Scaramouche (Wanderer).

You’re into brat taming, both ways. His rage and small stature fuel your unholy desire for brat taming. You think tantrums and murder threats are a love language. Though, you can still be into brat taming, but somehow you’re the one getting tamed. You want to be insulted. Brutally. Repeatedly. The meaner he is, the more you’re into it. You’d let him throw you across a room and call you pathetic while you thank him. You also have a massive brat complex, and the idea of him "punishing" you is your ultimate dream.

You want someone who calls you names, makes you cry, and then begrudgingly hugs you afterward. You generally love men who insult you while threatening your entire existence. You’re into humiliation kink but with a lot of dramatic flair.

You think bullying is a love language. You’d rather be insulted by your yandere than hear them say something nice. You probably have a playlist of villains laughing on repeat. Also, you’re here for the redemption arc that turns him into a soft-yet-still-toxic mess.

Bet you fantasize about him calling you useless while secretly crying into your lap because no one else “understands him.” You want to hear “You’re pathetic, but you’re mine” while he ties you to the bed and makes you regret existing in the best way possible.

You want verbal degradation but also a secret shrine in his closet.

His god complex? A feature, not a bug.

You’re into emotional whiplash and want to be simultaneously insulted and worshipped.

Your favorite genre is "damaged but hot."

Kink Radar: Name-calling, humiliation, brat taming, and angry make-out sessions where he pins you against a wall. Degradation, and a toxic dependency so strong it could fuel three seasons of a K-drama.

♡ Kaeya Alberich.

You want someone who’s all smiles and charm in public but would happily manipulate you into thinking he’s your only lifeline. You’re into the smooth-talker who makes you feel special while plotting your entire downfall. You like your men charming, toxic, and impossible to read. Drama is your life blood.

You think the whole “I could destroy you, but I’d rather seduce you” act is hot. You’re here for the manipulative bastard who knows how to work his way into your heart (and bed). You’re 100% into mind games, late-night drinking sessions that end in confessions, and the type of yandere who’d make you question your entire existence while smirking.

You have a thing for pretty liars who smell like danger and expensive cologne. Bet you’re into being cornered against a bar counter while he smirks and whispers things like, “Don’t think you can leave me, sweetheart.”

You’re into the whole “playful flirting turns into actual possessive obsession” trope. You’d let him seduce you into making every single bad decision and still think you’re special because “he’s so vulnerable around me.”

You like charm, wit, and dangerous levels of gaslighting. But, let’s be real: you’re here for the smirk and the handcuffs. You think his smirking while making you beg is peak romance. We get it, you’re a mess.

Kink Radar: Voyeurism, biting, and “oops, I tied you up again because I just can’t trust you, darling.” You live for fake apologies followed by sinful smirks. Teasing, edging, and a toxic amount of game-playing where neither of you knows who’s winning. Also, you have a thing for the eye patch.

♡ Baizhu.

You’re into the “soft but secretly terrifying” trope. You have a weird thing for doctors but refuse to admit it. You like being “taken care of” but also want a man who’d lowkey experiment on you for the sake of love.

You’re into the hot doctor who seems so sweet and caring but is 100% the type to lock you in his clinic under the guise of “keeping you healthy.” You want a man who’ll medicate you into submission while acting like he’s doing it for your own good. You’re into nurturing yanderes who’ll keep you locked up in a sickroom just to play doctor-patient roleplay.

You think “doctor’s orders” is the ultimate kink and probably have a thing for soft-spoken possessiveness.

You want a man who makes you tea and poisons it, so you’re too weak to leave him. You’ve 100% thought about him murmuring, “It’s for your own good, my dear.” You like subtle, sinister possessiveness.

The thought of him drugging you just enough to keep you pliant while he strokes your hair is…uncomfortably appealing to you. Yeah, you’re into medical kink. Own it.

Kink Radar: Medical play, temperature checks, and toxic levels of doting. Also, “accidentally” overusing aphrodisiacs because he can’t help himself.

♡ Arataki Itto.

You like your yanderes stupid but devoted. You’re probably into physical strength and the idea of being carried around like a sack of potatoes. You also think dumb is hot.

You want a man who will both fight an entire village for your affection and accidentally destroy your kitchen trying to cook you dinner. You fantasize about being affectionately suffocated by pure muscle while he pouts about you looking at other men.

You want a himbo who would literally break down a wall to get to you. You’re into being carried around like a princess and having someone so stupidly obsessed with you that he cries if you’re gone for five minutes. You’ve imagined him kidnapping you in broad daylight and yelling, “YOU’RE MINE NOW!” in front of everyone.

You’re into the himbo yandere who doesn’t realize he’s being creepy. You think it’s cute when he insists on “guarding you” 24/7, even when you’re just buying groceries. You’d let him kidnap you as long as he brought snacks.

You’re into the himbo yandere who’s too dumb to realize kidnapping is bad. You want a himbo yandere who chains you up and then loses the key. You think being kidnapped by someone too dumb to pull it off properly is adorable. You want fun chaos, possessive puppy vibes, and poorly executed kidnapping attempts that end with you both laughing.

He’d probably barricade you in his hideout with love notes written in crayon and say it’s because he “just loves ya so much, babe.”

You’re here for the chaotic, possessive energy and low-key want to be manhandled. Respectfully. Size kink and “oops I didn’t realize my strength” fantasies. You want muscle, chaos, and love so pure it’s almost terrifying.

Kink Radar: Strength play, hair pulling, and being called ridiculous nicknames mid-intense cuddling. Probably into accidental destruction during passionate moments. You just want to have fun, okay?

♡ Kaedehara Kazuha.

You like the soft yandere trope, but let’s not pretend you’re innocent. You’re into someone writing obsessive poetry about you while keeping a knife close at all times to “protect” you. You want a poetic sad boy who’ll write you haikus about how much he loves you while holding you captive in a beautiful, tragic romance. You’re here for the aesthetic kidnapping experience—chains, flowers, and sunsets included.

You like the idea of quiet insanity masked by poetic whispers and moonlit kisses. You’ve imagined him pinning you against a tree, whispering something tragic like, “You’re the wind that guides me… but I’d clip your wings to keep you close.”

You love tortured poets and the “hauntingly beautiful soul who’d die for you” aesthetic. You want a poetic, wandering soul who’ll recite haikus while quietly sabotaging your escape attempts. You’re into the soft-spoken type who’d never raise his voice…unless it’s to tell someone exactly how he’ll end them for touching you.

You romanticize emotional stability but thrive on chaos. You’re weirdly into the juxtaposition of “gentle lover” and “brutal enforcer.” You love quiet intensity and the idea of someone who seems soft but could kill a man for you without blinking. Bonus points if they quote poetry mid-murder. Let’s be real, you’d swoon.

You like calm, quiet types who’ll write you love letters while tying you to a tree. Bonus: He’ll recite a haiku after every “punishment.”

Kink Radar: Sensory play, blindfolds, and soft-spoken threats that sound like poetry. Bondage and whispering sweet nothings while tying you up with red silk. Bonus points if it’s under a cherry blossom tree. You fantasize about Stockholm Syndrome, but make it artsy.

♡ Lyney.

You like magicians, but make it terrifying. You’re into the theater kid turned obsessive stalker trope. You want someone who can manipulate everyone around you into thinking you’re the crazy one for wanting to leave.

You want your yandere with a touch of theatrical flair. You’re into someone who could trap you in an elaborate magic trick and call it romance. You probably find manipulative charm incredibly sexy, especially when paired with an accent.

“Trust issues” are your kink. You like illusions—both literal and metaphorical. You’re into magicians who’ll gaslight you into thinking their obsession is “just part of the act.” You probably fantasize about being sawed in half (kinkily, of course).

You’re into sleight-of-hand obsession and being made to feel like his most “precious trick.” You know the card tricks are just foreplay to making you disappear from your friend group. You’d let him lock you in a box and call it romance.

Bet you fantasize about him pulling roses out of nowhere while casually slipping a handcuff on your wrist. Kink level: magic rope.

And don’t lie—his yandere laugh does it for you.

Kink Radar: Sleight of hand, sleight of clothes, and being the unwilling “assistant” in his grand kidnapping tricks. Magic tricks but make it kinky. Misdirection, and definitely handcuffs.

♡ Pantalone.

Financial domination, but you’re also 90% sure he’s scamming you. You probably think blackmail is romantic, and it shows.

You’re down bad for a rich, scheming bastard who’ll shower you in luxury while keeping you chained to his golden bedpost. You’re into rich, controlling sugar daddies with criminal tendencies.

You probably fantasize about being locked in a gilded cage while he spoils you just enough to make you question whether it’s love or control. You’re probably into contracts, too. You’d let him ruin your life as long as he bought you nice things.

You want to be spoiled but also controlled because he’d 100% tell you what to wear, how to act, and who you’re allowed to see. You’ve imagined him saying something like, “You’ll be compensated for your obedience, darling.”

Bet you’re into dark finance roleplay and power imbalance kinks. You also think being his “pretty little investment” is romantic. The way he’d say “you’re mine, and that’s non-negotiable” makes you shiver, and you’re not ashamed.

Your type is rich, evil, and devastatingly polite. You think capitalism is sexy if it comes with a sharp smile and a well-tailored suit.

Kink Radar: Power play, money worship, and being bent over a desk while he counts mora. You’d let him bribe you into staying forever. Capitalism never looked so good.

♡ Shikanoin Heizou.

You like the “I’ll catch you in every lie” types who’ll smile while interrogating you about where you’ve been. You have issues with authority but love the idea of being investigated. You want to be interrogated with handcuffs that aren’t for police work. You want someone who pretends to be morally upright but would 100% gaslight you into staying because “you’re safer this way.”

You’re into playful interrogation scenes that turn dark fast and think being handcuffed to his desk while he lectures you is peak romance. A mix of playful sadism and deadly intent gets you going. You’re into mind games, but only if you lose every time. You’ve 100% fantasized about him solving a “case” that ends with you being his prime suspect… and punishment is intimate interrogation.

You like smart men who’ll solve crimes but also stalk you for sport. Bonus points if he teases you into losing your mind. You probably like being pinned against walls.

You want a Sherlock Holmes-type who’ll outsmart you at every turn and make you fall for his mind games. You’re into playful yanderes who know exactly how to outmaneuver you but look adorable while doing it.

You call it “detective work,” but it’s Stockholm Syndrome.

Kink Radar: Roleplay, mind games, and “oops, I locked you in because I wanted you all to myself, hehe.” You think “detective” is just code for “sexy schemer.”

♡ Venti.

You want someone to ruin your life and make it seem fun. You want to be serenaded into submission by a chaotic bard who hides his obsession behind flowery words and playful smiles. You like your yanderes with a side of drunken charm and possessive melodies.

You’re into chaotic whimsy. The thought of someone who’s all jokes and lightheartedness but secretly obsessing over you is what you live for. You’re into playful stalking, the idea of being serenaded at midnight, and someone who’d sing cheerful tunes while plotting your enemies’ downfall.

You’re into the deceptively sweet type who’d happily lull you into a false sense of security with songs and booze before chaining you to his statue. Bonus points if he pins you against a wall while tipsy and slurs poetic threats into your ear.

You love chaos, possessiveness disguised as whimsy, and toxic amounts of clinginess. You’re into playful manipulation and want someone who looks harmless but would 100% keep you locked in his archon domain for eternity “because you’re his muse.”

You’d let him ruin your life as long as he wrote you poetry afterward. You’re also a little bit into the idea of divine punishment.

Kink Radar: Bondage with his lyre strings, intoxication kink, and being worshipped like a god in the most unsettling way. You’re weak for poetic threats.

♡ Xiao.

You’re into emotionally stunted warriors who act like kidnapping you is an act of love. You want a brooding bad boy who tells you to stay away while staring at you obsessively from a distance. You like brooding, angsty men who are one breakdown away from destroying the world for you.

You want your yandere to suffer, because nothing says “romantic” like an emotionally tormented yaksha who hides his obsession behind stoicism. You’re into tragic, brooding types who’d murder for you but also hate themselves for it.

Bet you’re into being treated like a precious doll while he whispers about how unworthy he is to love you. You definitely fantasize about him losing control and “accidentally” holding you just a little too tightly. The idea of him spiriting you away to a hidden mountain shrine and guarding you 24/7 is a little too appealing.

You’re into emotionally constipated men who’d literally commit genocide to protect you but then awkwardly apologize for holding your hand. You want the kind of guy who’d push you away and then have a breakdown because you listened. You think suffering together is romantic.

You’re into emotional angst, self-sacrificing devotion, and being held hostage by love. You’re also into silent suffering and a man who’d slaughter thousands to protect you, then say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You probably have a savior complex. You like brooding, tortured types who would kill for you but also guilt you into never leaving.

Kink Radar: Biting, blood play, and being pinned against a wall while he growls, “I can’t control myself anymore.” You think angst is the spice of life.

———

P.S. Wow, for once, I'm writing something comedy and memes. Either way, hope this made your day. All in good fun :))

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud

[littlelamy]

hear me out: prince(maybe king)!rafe x maid!reader. 🧖🧖🧖🧖

author's note: eeekkk i am so so excited that someone requested this. i went a bit overboard and created a moodboard with the request. ahhh i hope you like it!!!🤭

rafe had always been a man of extremes. as a prince, he had earned a reputation for his ruthless cunning and the unyielding fire in his blue eyes. the court whispered about him—how he wanted everything in his kingdom to shine with perfection, to bow to his every whim. yet, none of that prepared anyone, least of all you, for the way he turned his obsession toward you.

it had started so innocently. you were just a maid, one of dozens who cleaned the gleaming marble floors of his grand castle, who arranged flowers in gilded vases and tended to fires in his countless hearths. you had caught his eye in a fleeting moment, bending to pick up a stray petal from the floor of the great hall. rafe had been striding through, his voice sharp as he barked orders at his entourage, but he fell silent as his gaze landed on you. that single moment was all it took.

from that day on, you felt the weight of his attention like an iron chain around your neck. it wasn’t long before his orders began to involve you directly. he demanded you be reassigned to his personal chambers. at first, it was simple tasks—polishing the ornate frames of his mirrors, arranging the heavy drapes that shielded his private windows. but as days turned to weeks, his demands grew stranger.

“stay,” he would say as you finished your work, his tone leaving no room for argument. he’d sit at his desk, pretending to pore over documents, but his eyes always found you in the reflection of the polished glass. “just for a moment longer.”

rafe’s fixation was terrifying in its intensity. he spoke to you as if you were the only thing that mattered, as if the kingdom itself was a distant second to your mere existence. his words were laced with a dangerous kind of reverence. “you don’t understand,” he whispered one evening, his voice low and almost tender. “you’re the only thing in this place that feels real.”

you tried to avoid his gaze, to keep your answers curt and respectful. “your grace, i am only here to serve.”

“and serve you will,” he replied, his lips curving into a possessive smile that made your stomach twist. “but not as a maid. no. i have other plans for you.”

those plans became clearer as he began to isolate you. you were no longer allowed to eat in the servants’ quarters or mingle with the other staff. instead, meals were brought to you in a small, luxurious room he had ordered prepared for your “comfort.” guards watched your every move, their silent vigilance a reminder that escape was not an option.

rafe’s obsession was suffocating. he lavished you with gifts you didn’t want—silken gowns, jeweled necklaces that felt like shackles against your skin. and yet, despite the fear that gripped your heart, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder at the man behind the obsession. there were moments, rare and fleeting, where his intensity softened into something almost vulnerable.

“they all want something from me,” he confessed one night, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “power, wealth, favor. but you… you didn’t even look at me. you didn’t try to catch my eye.” he cupped your chin then, forcing you to meet his gaze. “do you have any idea how maddening that was?”

you didn’t dare respond, your heart pounding in your chest. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a touch that was both tender and possessive. “you belong to me now,” he murmured, and the finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

one evening, as you stood in his chambers, preparing to leave after completing your duties, rafe stepped into your path. his gaze was dark and unreadable, his breathing uneven. before you could protest, his hand reached out to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. his lips met yours in a kiss that was as fierce and demanding as the man himself.

it wasn’t gentle. rafe kissed like he was trying to claim every breath, every thought, every part of you. his hands tightened their grip, one tangling in your hair while the other pressed against the small of your back, anchoring you to him. his touch grew rougher as the kiss deepened, his fingers groping at your waist and hips, pulling you flush against him.

he tilted your head back, his teeth grazing your lower lip before pulling away just enough to let his breath ghost over your skin. his eyes burned into yours as his thumb brushed over your swollen lips. “so beautiful,” he purrs, his voice low and guttural. the word sent a flush through your body, leaving you stunned and breathless.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. “you drive me mad,” he whispered, his voice rough. “but you… you’re mine. never forget that.”

in the days that followed, you tried to find cracks in his armor, weaknesses in the iron-clad control he had over you and his kingdom. but rafe was relentless. his obsession consumed him, and in turn, it threatened to consume you as well.

late one night, as you stood on the balcony of your gilded cage, staring out at the moonlit expanse of the kingdom, you felt his presence behind you. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“you’re mine,” he said again, his lips brushing against your ear. “and i will destroy anyone who tries to take you from me.”

you realized then that there was no escape, no reasoning with a man like rafe. he was a king in every sense of the word, and his obsession had made you his queen—whether you wanted to be or not.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah

[darnell-la]

A MANS GAME

summary: Eddie’s mind instantly went wild when he saw a woman prancing around like she loved bands and board games. when that same woman asked him to sell her weed, she couldn’t help but think he wasn’t being set up by the one and only Jason Carver. if y/n thought she could humiliate Eddie, and make him look like a fool, she was wrong. he was going to show her that.

warnings: misogyny, hate, delusion, drug deal, drug use, planned trap, semi kidnapping, unconstitutional drugging, unconstitutional fingering, SA, slight BDSM, rough sex, baby trapping, etc

note: hey... this is another requested dark-themed story, but with Eddie Munson who our number one fans know we’re obsessed with. do not read if CNC/SA makes you uncomfortable!

If you like dark-themed stories, follow our account @dark-authorr. Request us anything!

———

“And, what exactly is she wearing?” Eddie asked as he saw the new girl pass with a gamer shirt, that he’s never seen before, only rarely. “I think it’s some kind of game. Don’t know exactly,” Dustin said, not really paying attention to her.

“So girls like games now? Hm,” Eddie sarcastically said, eying y/n through the hallway as people complimented her style. “Yeah, which is hot, actually,” Mike said, making Eddie roll his eyes.

In his years of living, he has never met a girl who genuinely liked games, unless they had a boyfriend. She was new to the school, so there was no way she had one. He wouldn’t believe it if she said she was long-distance.

“Isn’t that, like, all you’ve been looking for? Or are you still on Christy? — She’s never gonna leave Jason Carver, dude. Especially not for you! No offense,” Sinclair said. “None taken,” Eddie said, knowing Sinclair was right.

For the rest of the day, Eddie’s eyes had been opened every time y/n walked by, stalking and watching her every move. There was just someone about her that he didn’t like.

He swore she was just another preppy, stuck-up girl who would do anything to get a little attention.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” Y/n asked, now in front of his face. He had zoned out. “Yeah?” He asked quickly, hoping she wasn’t here to ask what his problem was for watching her every move.

“I heard you sell, and I just left Cali. You wouldn’t mind selling me anything, right? I-I have extra if you’re afraid I’ll tell,” y/n said, watching how Eddie’s eyes widen.

When she looked at him, she couldn’t stop but think how amazing he was. She barely saw men like this around in Hawkins.

“Sure, but, I gotta ask — Do you even smoke? Or is this like a, I wanna fit in, thing?” He asked, making her giggle at his thought process. “I really smoke, hun,” she smiled, flashing diamonds that were glued to her teeth. She was truly into what she dressed like, but, Eddie couldn’t seem to believe it.

“Hm, well, I’ve got some at the crib. Maybe stop by later tonight? My uncles outta town so, any late times doesn’t matter to me,” Eddie said, getting a dark feeling in the back of his mind, but he slightly ignored it.

“That’s fine with me,” y/n said before she slowly walked off after giving one last smile. “Yeah, we’ll see if you’re genuine, girly,” Eddie said under his breath, convincing himself that she had to be some kind of setup.

Eddie had horrible overthinking problems. No one throughout his whole high school career liked him, so why, now that he’s in college, would a girl randomly know he sells weed and would want some from him.

“Dude, you good? Looks like she’s got your tongue,” Sinclair said, making Eddie laugh loudly. “Her? Oh, Jesus, no — A girl like that is just a plant to see if I’d fall for it,” Eddie spoke, sounding delusional as always.

“What do you mean, plant?” Mike asked. “You see, she just had a class with Jason, and I saw them talking. I bet you he’s setting me up by swinging a girl like that my way,” Eddie said, truly believing what he was saying.

“And, how would he possibly set you up, Eds? She doesn’t even look like she’d do something like that to you. A stranger!” Dustin said as he rolled his eyes, tired of him seeing everything as some trap.

“Oh, but I bet, she would. You see, a girl like that doesn’t exist. I bet you tonight, she’ll come over, make some move then leave before we get to do anything, then tell the whole school how I thought someone finally liked me,”

The younger men looked at each other, confused about why Eddie was acting this way. She was nice. They barely hear that around here, and he’s always shutting her down.

“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Sinclair said before he walked off with his basketball team that had just passed. “You need to work on yourself dude,” Dustin said. “Seriously,” Mike added.

It’s currently late at night, almost so late, that Eddie thought she wouldn’t show up. That was until he heard a knock on his front door.

Eddie got up from his and made his way to the front. He had a few things to ask y/n to test out what kind of person she was.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” y/n said as she walked in after Eddie stepped aside. “No problem, I was just looking at the band you have in your shirt, and I was curious,” Eddie got straight into it.

“This band? Oh, yeah, they’re kind of my favorite,” y/n smiled. “Ah huh — I realized they don’t really do music. They’re more into book writing,” Eddie said, which was correct.

“Yep, that's how I got into them. I love reading, and when I found out they had music, that was even better,” she said, making him chuckle low. “So you like sec?” He asked, making her laugh.

“Oh, uh- Yeah. Yes, I do,” she said as he scanned her figure. He hadn’t gotten a great look at her today, but now he did. Her body was more banging than he had thought.

“Hm, you into all that stuff they talk about? I mean, my bands are freaks, I’ve never seen one like yours. Especially with girls in them,” he said.

Y/n usually never felt off about talking about who she liked to watch and listen to, but there was something about the way Eddie came off, that made her feel weird.

“I guess, but I’m not really down to talk about that,” y/n said, warning Eddie that she was getting uncomfortable. “Oh, what are my manners- I’m sorry — Let’s get you your purchase,” Eddie said as he guided her to the back where his room was located.

Eddie stood to the side after he opened the door, looking at her for her reaction that he’d been waiting for all night.

Once y/n stepped into his room, her eyes slightly widened at his layout. She knew he was a metalhead, but she didn’t expect all of these sexual toys to be laid out. Some even looked fresh from the store.

“Over here — I’ve got a couple of pre-rolls, and this new hash I kind of whipped up myself, that’s It’s free. I want to see how my first costume feels about it,” Eddie said as he guided her to his bed.

The young man picked up this new roll-up he had made and handed it to the young woman. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on smoking now,” y/n said. “C’mon — Just one hit. I wanna make sure it at least smells, and tastes good,”

Y/n felt a bit off, but she didn’t want to shame the man. She knew he barely had people over, so she accepted what he was giving.

“Fine,” she smiled as she took the lighter that Eddie had lifted up to give her. “Sit down and get a little comfortable,” Eddie suggested as she hopped in his bed, and pat the spot next to him.

Y/n softly sat next to the man, ready to see what he’s created. She wanted to be a nice help, so she quickly lit the joint and took a hard hit.

She coughed a bit, not knowing it would be this strong. It barely had a taste of weed, more like something else that she couldn’t place her hand on.

“Take a few more,” Eddie pressured. “I don’t really think-“ y/n tried saying. “Hey — Just a few more, and I’ll even cut the price,” Eddie said, knowing exactly where he was going with everything.

Y/n took a deep slow breath before she took another hit. She didn’t exactly want to, but she’s driven a bit high before. She should be fine.

Y/n took another hit, each puff getting more smoke in her lungs, making it hard for her to feel what was happening.

“Feels good?” Eddie asked as he placed a hand on her thigh. “Actually does,” y/n said, surprised that she felt the high so fast. “Wanna know what’s in it, princess?” He asked, making her nod as she took another long drag.

“I knew you like California weed, so I put some pure hashish in the roll,” Eddie said as he rubbed her thigh, getting closer to her heat that she barely noticed. She felt him but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, and you wanna know what else?” He asked as his free hand slowly moved up to her face, so he could rub at her cheek. “What?” Y/n asked low as she turned his way, feeling her eyes get extremely heavy.

“For the fun ride, I sprinkled a bit of opioids and benzodiazepine, just to get you a little woozy,” Eddie smiled, knowing that would trigger her brain. “What?” She wanted to sound more upset, but she couldn’t.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” the young woman said as she tried getting up, but she was too weak. “Why? I thought you liked it here? The room was decorated just for you,” Eddie said as he slowly reached under her skirt.

“No,” was all y/n could let out when she felt him pull her panties to the side. “What was that, princes?” Eddie asked as he leaned into her face, wanting to see and hear her struggle.

“No,” she breathed out as a tear rolled down her eyes. “And, why is that? I thought these half-high fishnets were meant for foreplay,” Eddie chuckled as he slowly pushed a ringed finger into her cunt.

“N-No,” y/n stuttered, saying that word too many times for him to keep going. “Just relax, princess — I thought you liked it kinky? I bought the chains, the gags, the toys, and the drugs. Wasn’t one song called, drug me? I assumed that would be your favorite,”

Eddie had pushed another ringed finger into y/n as he leaned down to her neck and began sucking on a few spots. There was no way he wouldn’t get what Jason set him up for.

Eddie still believed she came here just to humiliate him. He didn’t regret setting this up for her. She deserved it for what he thought she was going to put him through.

“Eddie?” Y/n choked on her cry as her walls fluttered around his fingers. “Oh, no, no — You don’t get to cum yet,” Eddie said as he pulled out of her, and pushed her down into his bed.

“You’re gonna let me fill you up first — Then maybe you can cum on my face while I eat out your overstimulated pussy,”

Eddie sounded evil to y/n. His voice echoed through her mind like a nightmare, but she couldn’t yell at him like she wanted to. She couldn’t fight him like she wanted to.

“I’m gonna tie your arms behind your back, somehow tie your legs so they’re forced open, then gag you before I get started,”

Eddie didn’t lie and did just that in under five minutes. He had looked up videos and learned quick. She should feel special for what he’s doing for her, since this is what she likes, after all.

“Tied you down for a little, and you’re already soaked, Jesus Christ,” Eddie teased as he played with her folds, watching his juice spill out of her hole that he could’ve sworn gripped a few times around air.

“You want me, don’t you? Even if this was all a joke for Jason, you actually want me, and not him — You could've just asked me, princess. I would’ve still rocked your world, but I guess you wanted it rougher,”

Eddie happily pulled himself out of his jeans, and stroked, seeing he had already been leaking pre-cum. She was too hot to be this hard already.

“You knew wearing that would catch my attention at school. Fuck, y/n, you’re just some being else — I haven’t even fucked you yet,” Eddie was surprised at how he felt about y/n in under twenty-four hours.

“I’m gonna make you mine, princess. Being pregnant in college isn’t too bad right? Wasn’t one of the female singers pregnant in college too?” Eddie asked the slightly uncomfortable woman as he slowly pushed at her entrance.

“Doesn’t matter — You’d look amazing with my kids. I’ll give you more than one — That’ll show Jason not to mess with me again,”

Eddie had gone too delusional by now. He thought that impregnated y/n would make Jason upset that his plan didn’t work, or show y/n that playing with a man isn’t a good idea.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried low as he filled her with every inch. He wasted no time to begin his thrust and taunt y/n for her moans that she couldn’t hold back. He was huge and reached every good area y/n couldn’t even reach with her toys.

“You like it? C’mon, baby, tell me you like it. I’ll be fuckin’ you every day to show you who I am. If you thought you could make a fool out of me, then you were wrong, princess. So fuckin’ wrong. I’ll show you,”

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[dirt-str1der]

WHY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR AROACE SENKU HEADCANON ON MY GAY SENKU AND TRANS REI POST

Just finished Dr Stone Reboot

[xaytheloser]

For Your Own Good.

Prowl X Cybertronian! Reader who was raised on Earth scenario! warnings: obsessive behavior, no specified continuity, Prowl is a delusional prick I suppose, possible ooc Prowl, implied death of a family member

Earth had been your home your entire life, from the moment your mom found you in a tiny safety pod that crashed into the backyard of her farm away from the large city she lived near. She had no idea what you were, but she knew that she couldn't leave you there, small and defenseless..

you were just like a normal human baby, but, well... metal?? you grew a lot bigger when you reached your teenage years, nonetheless, your mother took care of you. she feed you what she thought a baby of you,, unique qualities would consume, she washed you when you got dirty, and of course when you got older she taught you how to help around the farm.

there was only one rule.

stay at the farm.

mother was so worried about a scenario where you are discovered by another human. what would happen to you? would you be taken away and experimented on like those awful sci-fi movies? would you have to be on the run? she couldn't bear to think it. so she made the stern rule that you are to never leave the farm unless absolutely necessary.

...

then they came.

creatures that looked like you, made of metal, you saw them whilst watching t.v. with mom through the house window. you where so excited! finally! you found out what you were! where you came from! it was also the day that mother finally decided it was safe for you to explore outside the farm, meet the creatures that were like you, find out who and what you are. it was hard for her, but she knew that you would be alright... at least she hoped...

...

Prowl had very mixed feelings about you when you first meet him and his fellow autobots.

you were... odd. you were loud. you were annoyingly curious about everything... and worst of all, he strangely didn't seem to mind..?

something about you.. drew him in. you had no idea what you even where, and for some reason, you stuck to him the most. it was odd.. like a breath of strange fresh air..

the way you looked at him as he spoke about basic knowledge that every other regular cybertronian should know already, but you didn't.. the look of wonder and amazement you had on your face only drew him in more..

you were so strange.. yet so... endearing..?

of course he never said any of this to you out loud, but he found himself growing more attached to you, which he found ridiculous in his own regard..

you are a distraction. he would tell himself. someone who strays him from his intended purpose.

but on the other hand.. he didn't want you to leave him alone either..

he could be selfish just this once, no? indulge you in facts that every other cybertronian should know at this point.. in fact, it's not entirely selfish is it? no! he's helping you learn who you are. who you were meant to be..

It's for your own good... right? you should know where you truly come from.... in fact... he'll do you one better.. he can bring you there.

one day, he offers to bring you to cybertron, to actually be where you truly came from.. to taste actual energon for the first time.. he'll be your guide, teach you everything the is to know and more-

"no."

"...what do you mean 'no'..?"

"I mean, I don't want to go to Cybertron."

...what?

"what are you even saying? all these months of telling about Cybertron, of you constantly asking where you came from, I give you a chance to actually go there and you say 'no'-?"

"I appreciate everything you've taught me, all of it, really. but I have a home here. With my mom. I can't just leave her here. everything I know is here. on Earth."

oh yes. your "mother", Prowl had meet her a couple of times. to be honest, he never really cared for her to begin with. she was paranoid, always being so paranoid. always nagging.

... Maybe he should do something about that.

"..."

".. Prowl..? are you ok?"

".... I have to do something."

Prowl transformed into his alt mode, and he sped off.. you've never seen him in such a hurry before.. you were worried.. ....

........

you fell to your knees.. eyes wide in terror and disbelief..

the farm... your house... the only thing you've ever known since you've landed here on Earth..

It was all in flames.

"...It was the most efficient solution." Prowl muttered behind you. you turned your helm and looked at him, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.. it was like you voice box was frozen.. "this place was in the way, it was distracting you. now, you can come ho-" "... wh... where's my mom..?" Prowl was silent, he looked away for a brief second, and then looked back to you.. you repeated your question, only louder, and angrier.

"WHERE IS SHE PROWL?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MOM!?"

"... that doesn't matter." was his only response. he placed his servo along you back, like he was trying to comfort you in a sick sense... "now you have nothing left to stay here for," he shoved you to the ground, holding your servos behind your back as he forced them into stasis cuffs. "now you can come back home. your real home. with me." his look softened, if only for a second..

"you may not understand it now, but I am doing what is best for you."

[projectjasper]

JOONG ARCHEN AYDIN: On his first steps in the entertainment industry, how to lie to idol factories that are trying to control your weight, and his impressive resilience in the face of tragedy

Joong: Actually, I moved to Thailand when I was 16. The reason I moved was I wanted to finish school quickly so I could get a job quickly. I really wanted to grow up. I wanted to live my own life because back then I thought being an adult was great. Right? So I started working as an actor. I was actually walking around Siam and then I went to a casting and got the role.

That's really how it happened! In the early days, I participated in a fashion show and accidentally got the first place.

Aou, Santa, Pond: Oooohhhhh!!!

Joong: And then I became more confident and someone just happened to see me. I was walking around Siam, I was in the middle of Siam Square, and a person just pulled me away. They were like: "Are you interested?" I was wearing really nice clothes that day. It was an Abercrombie t-shirt and Gucci jeans.

Yeah, I borrowed them from a friend.

Anyway, I remember going to the casting. Everyone had their hair and makeup done, some already had fans. We all sat down. The line was very long, there were multiple rows. This one guy just stood up, went up to his fans, and started waving. He was saying "thank you", "thank you for your encouragement" and things like that. We were all waiting to go up to the slaughter room.

No, really, they call it "the slaughter room". There was like twelve of us. They weren't saying much, they were just kind of looking at us, and then they told ten people to leave. The only two left were me and another person. They told us: "Ok, you passed". I was asked to do this one bit and then sent home. I came back for the final round, which was like an acting round, and then I finally got to play. I got to be in a series, I became an actor. It was my first drama, I might not have played very well, but I got some fans! My followers on Instagram went from 5.000 to 500.000. So I started as an actor first but then an opportunity came up. I never thought about it before, but I did like idols, I was a fan of many groups. It was BigBang first, then BTS... When I was in Türkiye, even before coming to Thailand, I already liked them. I used to record dance videos with my siblings at home and upload them to the internet.

"Fake Love" [starts singing a little]. Yes, at the time I was obsessed with it, I really loved it. Then I got an opportunity with a Chinese company. They suggested I go to China and join a TV show contest. At the time, I was weighing my options - I was doing pretty well in Thailand, should I stay here? Eventually I decided it would be better for me to move to China. I wanted to try something new and it was an opportunity to do just that. Since I was an actor, I already had events where I sang and things like that, but I never...

Pond: Danced?

Joong: Yeah, I never danced there. Well, maybe just a little. I took only a couple of dancing lessons. Everyone else is like "oh, I've been dancing since I was a kid", but I started when I joined the contest in China. I was training for about two months and it was very stressful, because I had to study both the language and how to dance. And in comparison to the friends I was training with, I was quite inexperienced because some of them had sung and danced before, they had a solid background.

Personally, I was becoming more and more handsome at the time.

Aou: Ooooohhhhh!

Joong: Before that I was still a kid.

So, two or three months passed, we actually went to China to train there. We were meant to go on for two or three more months, then filming would start and the program would air. It was quite fun, because I got a chance to go with friends from Thailand and there were also trainees from other countries - China, Korea, Japan, it was very international. I got to know a lot of people. We were training together and it was a very warm environment. Because we were practising together, living together, waking up together, eating together.

Food was bad, it was food for trainees. Broccoli and fish, stuff like that.

Interviewer: So it wasn't tasty food, it was healthy food.

Joong: Yes, everyone on the show was on a weight control diet. We had to weigh ourselves and then report back every single day. We also had to send video clips, so they could check what we're eating. They were actually looking at our food. They were asking us about our bodies, how we "build discipline".

But hey, let me tell you. There is a trick to weighing yourself. For example, like I weigh what? 77kg or something. If I touch my finger to the wall, it becomes 75kg!

Santa & Pond: Really?????

Joong: And if you press real hard, it will be 70kg.

The food they gave us was Jian Fei food, diet food, but if you think about it, it takes a lot of energy to practice as much as we did. So I ate a lot. I ate a little in secret.

Santa: Just a little?

Joong: Yes! At the time, I was thin. But yeah, everything else was going well - the environment, the friends I made, and all that. The teachers gave me a lot of encouragement because... I was good at dancing, but when I went there, people were on another level. The guys from Japan were dancing so fiercely, the guys from China were like... wow! Some of them had been dancing since they were twelve, others had just started. I realised we are not the same at all. Like let's say there is a close up, right? I wouldn't have been able to dance as fast as my friends.

I felt really bad. Because I was giving my best, but it wasn't good enough. I couldn't remember every move. And there were people who were really good there! Let's say there was a hundred people - one outstanding person received an award from the teacher. Out of a hundred people, one would get a star. Literally. The teacher would take a star and stick it on that person. Me? I never got it! It was both discouraging and tiring. I woke up early to go training at 7 a.m., came back at 11 p.m. every day. Kind of similar to Santa.

Santa: Yeah.

Joong: But still, things were going well. And then, like three days before filming:

COVID.

Aou: Oh no...

Joong: So suddenly it's all over? Honestly, when we first heard the news going around, no one believed it. Everyone was like: "What? No way! The training has been going on for months and hundreds of people are participating, from so many different countries. How could it all just collapse?" But I went back to the dorm and got on a video call with the company. They said: "Listen, kids. The plane tickets will be arranged and then you can go back in about a month. You'll have to quarantine for around 15 days". So I was just stuck in a room for 15 days. It wasn't like I went back to Thailand and was just sitting around feeling sad. I came back to sit alone in a room and cry for 15 days. And it felt like I left everything behind in Thailand and went to China, but then I returned.

It's not just that I was sad....

Pond: But what would happen now that you were back.

Joong: I wasn't part of anything because my contract stated that if I didn't have a show, I was basically independent. I came back and everything just felt so empty. I was like: What should I do? I don't know what to do! There is no way forward. Did I have any money? No. I only had around 50.000 baht left before going to China. And I spent a lot of money there too. I don't know what I was so confident about, but I spent a lot of money. For some reason I was just so sure that somehow, no matter what, I would gain something from this whole experience. It had to have been worth it, someone had to have noticed me. That was my mindset at the time. So, I came back, COVID was happening, and then my dad died.

I have no money. My dad died. COVID.

My dad died, I can't do anything. When my mom called me, I was shooting an MV with my friends. We were supposed to shoot for three days and my mom told me dad passed away on the first day.

Pond: That's awful.

Joong: I cried the first day. I was putting on makeup, crying while putting on makeup by myself because it was a self-made project.

Interviewer: So it was a self-made project with your friends?

Joong: No, with the label. But we did everything on our own, we paid for it on our own, because we wanted to give back to all the fans supporting us in Thailand somehow. We had no shows, no songs, no nothing, so we decided to make it ourselves and pay for it ourselves. Even though we didn't have much money at the time. It was tough.

Interviewer: How did you get through it? What did you tell yourself? You were disappointed, you had no money, someone you love passed away...

Joong: The thing is, I had no one to rely on anymore. If I couldn't rely on myself, there was no one else to help me. I had to survive, my siblings had to survive. So I just fought and kept going. I had to find a way, somehow. I announced that I have no label and just started over. I told my manager at the time, who was taking care of things slowly, that if they had any work, I was prepared to take it. Or maybe I could just go out there and try to find something on my own? Because I was just sitting around doing nothing. At the time, I had this person to take care of me, right? But maybe because of COVID or something like that, they couldn't find me a job. So I thought: Should I keep going like this? If they aren't giving me anything, can I try to find something on my own? Go out there and fight by myself? So I became a freelancer. But in just two weeks, I was contacted by a label, so thankfully I didn't have to stick to freelance for long.

[darlinluxx]

love your writing, so scrumptious and poetic🥰 i love a fellow saebyeok fangirl😩🩷

what do you think about a short fic about the reader slowly becoming friends with saebyeok who works at the local convenience store. like this bubbly kinda awkward girl just doesn’t get the hint the saebyeok doesn’t wanna talk and ends up wearing her down over time til they become friends and start to develop feelings😌

i’d love to see it, keep up the amazing work!

love koogiie 🍓

𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of smoking, mentions of small injuries

a/n : thank u so much !! your comments are the sweetest <3

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he bell above the door jingles, a familiar sound that barely registers anymore. it’s late, past midnight, and the fluorescent lights of the convienne store hum a lonely tune. you’re restocking the ramen shelves, humming along to the song playing from the tiny speaker behind the counter, when you see her.

she’s tall and thin, with a haunted look in her eyes that seem to absorb the harsh glow. she moves with a strange grace, like a stray cat who knows every alleyway in the city. it’s Saebyeok, and she’s a regular, though “regular” feels too casual for someone who exudes such a guarded energy. she always comes in late, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and maybe a drink, usually without a word.

your heart does a little flip, a nervous flutter you’ve come to recognize. she’s intriguing, in a way that makes your palms sweat a little. you push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and, despite all your better judgment, you decide to be friendly.

“late night, huh?” you chirp, your voice a little too high-pitched. you flash her a wide, hopefully not creepy smile.

she doesn’t smile back. or even look at you, really. she grabs a pack of cigarettes, pays, and walks towards the door.

“have a good night!” you call after her, your voice tinged with a bit of embarrassment.

you tell yourself she didn’t hear you, but the truth is, she heard. she’s just not interested.

the next night, she’s back. same time, same kind of cigarettes. you tell yourself you’ll play it cool, be nonchalant, but the moment you see her you’re back to your usual, bubbly self.

“hey! how’s it going?” you ask, leaning on the counter as you try to look cool. you are desperately failing. “anything interesting happen today?”

she doesn’t answer. she doesn’t even make eye contact. she just grabs her things, pays, and leaves.

okay, you think. maybe she’s just not a talker. but you’re stubborn. and maybe, just a little, you’re drawn to her quiet mystery.

you make a point of learning her usual order. you start stocking her favorite brand of cigarettes by the register so they’re easier for her to grab. you’ve even started leaving out a small bag of her favorite chips, just in case she wants them. you leave it on the counter, a silent offering.

she ignores it at first. then, one night, as she’s leaving, you see her glance at the bag. for the briefest moment, you think you see a flicker of something in her eyes that isn’t cold indifference.

it’s a small victory, but it fuels you. you keep talking to her, babbling about your day, your annoying coworkers, the latest tv show you’re obsessed with. she doesn’t respond for the most part, but sometimes, just sometimes, you notice a subtle shift in her posture, a tiny twitch of her lips. she’s listening. you know it.

one rainy night, you’re both the only ones in the store as you mop the floors. Saebyeok comes in, her usually stoic face looking even more pale in the dim lighting. she’s soaking wet, her hair plastered to her forehead. you see a small scrape on her hand that you know she’s probably too proud to care for.

“oh my god, you’re drenched!” you blurt out. you quickly grab a clean towel from behind the counter. “here, you gotta dry off.” you offer it to her.

she hesitates, then slowly takes the towel. you watch her awkwardly pat her hair, her movements surprisingly delicate. for a moment, the walls you always see her putting up seem to waver.

“you should probably clean that,” you say, pointing to the graze on her hand. you reach for the first aid kit.

she raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t refuse as you dab antiseptic on the scratch, bandaging it gently. you feel your face flush as you work.

“thank you.” she murmurs, her voice barely audible, but it’s the first time you’d ever heard it.

it’s quiet, but that small thank you is enough. you beam at her. this is a progress, a breakthrough.

over time, the silence that once surrounded Saebyeok starts to feel less like a wall and more like a quiet understanding. she doesn’t talk much, but she’ll occasionally meet your gaze, a slight curve to her lips as you tell another story. you catch her watching you as you dance along to the music while restocking shelves. she starts grabbing a soda along with her cigarettes, and she sometimes even accepts the bag of chips you leave out. you start to feel a warmth settle in your chest whenever she comes in.

one night, she stays a little longer. you’re closing up, counting the till, and she leans against the counter, watching you.

“why?” she asks, her voice low.

“why what?” you ask, confused.

“why are you so…” she trails off, searching for the right word. “nice?”

your heart clenches at the question. “i don’t know,” you admit with a nervous laugh, “you just seem like you need a friend.”

a small, almost imperceptible smile appears on her face.

“maybe.” she whispers, her eyes meeting yours.

that night, you realize something has shifted. it’s not just a friendship that you’re forging with this quiet, guarded woman. there’s something else, a pull, a connection that leaves you breathless and a little scared. your heart skips a beat, the same little nervous flip, but this time, it’s joined by a slow, burning warmth. it’s something you can’t deny, something you desperately hope she feels too. and she does, but she won’t tell you that. you catch her gaze, and the look in her dark eyes sends a shiver down your spine. you’re not just friends anymore. and maybe, that’s exactly what you’ve both been hoping for.

[thef1diary]

THESE DIRTBAG!DANNY FICS EAT I LOVE THESE. LIKE IM SORRY BUT I GENUINELY DON’T HAVE GOOD IDEAS AND YET I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. HMMM… LEMME THINK.. (i have never done this before sorry babe)… MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE BEING INLOVE WITH HIS TATTOOED THIGHS/ADAMS APPLE (two completely different things ik) AND A LITTLE BIT OF A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP I KNOW ITS ALOT TO ASK AND IM SORRY. LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️

— thank youuu!! I did a lil something on his thighs so lemme bring the attention to Danny’s adam’s apple. Em knows how I went feral over it recently and I knew I had an ask about it somewhere! 18+ content below

You had no business being this obsessed. It was just an adam’s apple—a piece of cartilage, for God’s sake—but on Daniel, it was mesmerizing. The way it bobbed when he swallowed or spoke, the way it stood out when he tilted his head back, the way it seemed to mock you with how much you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You were straddling him now, his shirt hanging loose on your body, the buttons barely holding together as his hands roamed under the hem. He was smirking, always so goddamn cocky, but your gaze stayed locked on the column of his throat. His head tilted back against the couch, exposing his neck, and you felt heat pool between your thighs.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart,” Daniel drawled, his voice deep and gravelly, the vibration of it visible in the rise and fall of his throat.

“I’m not,” you lied, your eyes betraying you as they trailed back to his throat.

“Oh, you’re definitely staring,” he teased, his hand sliding up to the back of your thigh. “You’ve got a thing for my neck, huh? You're staring at it like you’re starving.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. How could you? The thoughts racing through your mind were filthy beyond reason. You wanted to kiss him, bite him, lick every inch of that thick neck until he was a panting mess beneath you. You wanted to feel his adam’s apple bob against your tongue as he swallowed your name, wanted to sink your teeth into the tendon that stretched so perfectly whenever he turned his head.

“Fuck off,” you muttered, shifting in his lap, trying to mask the wetness pooling in your panties. But Daniel wasn’t having it.

“Aw, don’t get shy on me now,” he crooned, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your inner thigh. “You’re not very subtle, you know. I can feel the way you clench every time I swallow.”

You clenched again, your thighs squeezing around him involuntarily, and his laugh was a low, dirty thing that made your stomach flip.

“Fuck, you’re obsessed,” he said, his hand sliding up to your waist, holding you steady as you tried to wiggle away. “You wanna bite me, don’t you? Leave a pretty little mark right here?” He dragged two fingers up the column of his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed for emphasis.

Your breath hitched, and he noticed. Of course he noticed.

“Go on,” he dared, his voice dropping an octave, rough and teasing. “Get it out of your system. Or do I need to beg you to choke me first?”

Your head snapped up at his words, your stomach flipping violently. You hadn’t said a single thing about that. But now that he’d put it out there, the idea lodged itself firmly in your mind. Your fingers twitched, and your gaze darted to his throat, imagining how his skin would feel under your hands—hot and firm, his pulse pounding against your palm.

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but it came out weaker than you intended, breathier, like you were already caving.

“I’m not the one eye-fucking someone’s neck,” he shot back, smirking. “But don’t stop now, sweetheart. I love this attention.”

Your hands trembled as they found their way to his neck, your thumbs brushing over his adam’s apple. His pulse thumped against your fingers, steady but quickening. His throat flexed as he swallowed, and your breath hitched at the way it felt under your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes hooded as he watched you. “That all you got? Thought you wanted to leave a mark.”

His words spurred you on, and you surged forward, your lips finding the curve of his throat. You kissed him there, soft and tentative at first, but it wasn’t enough. Your teeth scraped against his skin, and when he groaned, low and guttural, you bit down just enough to feel the muscle under your teeth.

“Goddamn,” he rasped, his hands finding your hips and gripping them hard. “Knew you were filthy, but this? Shit, sweetheart.”

You kissed and licked your way up to his adam’s apple, your tongue flicking over it as it bobbed. He cursed again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hips bucked against you, sending a jolt of heat straight to your cunt.

His adam’s apple moved against your tongue, and it was intoxicating—the rough texture of his skin, the way his muscles shifted beneath your lips, the sound of his groan rumbling in your ears.

“I can feel you twitching,” you murmured against his skin, letting your teeth graze the protrusion. “Does it turn you on? Knowing I can’t stop thinking about marking you up?”

Daniel’s laugh was low and breathless, his hips jerking up against you. “You’re a fucking menace,” he said, his voice raspier now, rougher, like your attention was unraveling him.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips curling into a smile as you pressed another soft kiss to his adam’s apple. Then, without warning, you sucked hard, your teeth scraping lightly against it.

Daniel’s reaction was immediate. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat. “Shit, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his hands sliding up to the small of your back, pulling you tighter against him.

You grinned, your tongue flicking over the reddened skin you’d just claimed. “Not until I’ve had my fill,” you teased, your lips ghosting over his throat again, taking your time to savor the taste of him—the faint tang of sweat and salt and something that was undeniably Daniel.

“You love this, don’t you?” he said, his voice rough, his breath uneven. “You love knowing I’ll let you do whatever you want. Choke me, mark me up—hell, I’ll let you ruin me, sweetheart. Just say the word.”

You laughed breathlessly, your tongue flicking over the spot you’d just bitten, your hands tightening around his neck as you rocked your hips against him.

“Don’t tempt me,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear. “I might just take you up on that.”

And based on the way he bucked against you, hard and desperate, you knew he’d actually let you.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[miifu666]

Asks you say?

What if Lmk Sun Wukong didnt meet Suklha for the first time until after LMK started? And let's just say he got a little bit obsessed with her. So yandere Sun Wukong (because yanderes are awesome!)

What are your thoughts on that?

PHOENIXXX HIII 🥹🥹🩷🩷

YESSS I LOVE YANDEREEES but i do tend to make them too dead dove- I've thought about it for a while! and made some Yan! Wukong with it! just below the Read more!

(I am having trouble drawing LMK Wukong tbh)

I imagine they met through MK. Particularly meeting through MK causing wreckage and falling through the roof of Suklha meeting her Client. In this case, Suklha isn't Wukong's lawyer and he has no idea who she is.

In a very cartoonish way, Wukong got attracted at first sight. Curious and threatened. The thought of another immortal chasing after MK, his prodigy just to talk about property damage? Thats hilarious! MK was just trying to save the city! This is injustice-!

Okay, maybe he can give her the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't been teaching MK properly. He'll admit, he's not the best teacher to have. He's probably lucky to have MK as his student who's so naive and patient. Naive enough for Wukong to ask who the lady that caught him during their sparring, get his ear talked out about an immortal Lawyer amongst celebrities known as the best of the best. I mean, what kind of monkey king doesn't have her as a lawyer? She's supposed to be the best! He should fire his current one. Yeah that makes sense, its definitely not because so he can get closer to Suklha. Nah, thats too egotistical! Hes a renowned sage! He should know better!

Yet even as he FINALLY joined those "VIP party" hosted by someone he doesn't care enough about, just so multiple well known artists and celebrities can gather and talk nonsense while drinking alcohol. His eyes kept looking around for a blue toned lady, usually his own Lawyer attend these events, something about finding relations and connections.

Eh, he lives in the mountains. His novel is worldwide, he doesn't need those stupid stuff.

He's lucky enough to see his namecard being put beside the person of interest, holding a glass of fine wine. Wearing a new and expensive black outfit, yet similar enough to her usual look.

"Oh? I was expecting your lawyer... is he not coming?"

Hearing her talk about him so fondly made his eyes twitch, blood red sclera affecting his vision. The room is closing in, he can sense everything in it. The chitter chatter, clinking of expensive glass, the pouring of alcohol, and the way Suklha's heavy earrings seemed to shine. Maybe firing the prick wasn't enough, maybe he should've done something more... adequate

All he can do is bite his bottom lip till blood draws out, all this time, such treasure was hiding under his nose. Spending time with his uptight and annoying Lawyer, who does nothing but berates him on not checking his emails and being "unprofessional". His ugly, old-schooled lawyer, got a chance to introduce himself to her?? How...foul

Don't worry, The Monkey King is good at handling business

_________

To those of you who wants to send me asks! I may not answer some of them, but i still appreciate and read all of them!! 🥹🫶 and yes its okay to send ur oc to introduce me to/yap to me abt! Please be mindful of my pinned post!

[leashybebes]

i think the reason i am so obsessed with tommy is like... okay, prefacing all of this with "much of this is head canon/extrapolation from canon/my standard over identification with fictional characters. i don't expect other folks to see him the same way". also, as i wrote this i was like "huh, pretty sure i've said this before in slightly different words" so feel free to keep scrolling in search of an original thought i guess lol

i love to love. i love to look after people. i love to give them affection. i love to do things that broadcast loud and clear "hey! hey you! i care about you!" i have always struggled with letting people do the same for me. if anything was going to derail my current relationship early on, it would have been that - without intending to, i take away people's agency by not giving them opportunities to do those things for me. it's a fucked up way to be - to give and give and give, and to stop other people from giving back. it creates an imbalance, an inequality, that means a relationship is not going to last, and if it does last, it'll be bad.

i keep gnawing at a line in a wip i have about tommy post-breakup meeting a new guy and thinking that he likes the guy's sharp edges and that he didn't give buck a chance to show any sharp edges because they spent six months having amazing sex and Being Cute. he was Doing Boyfriend Things. and i don't think it was fake, as such. but i think it was surface. he gave affection and he gave care, and you can give all of those things without every really giving anything of yourself.

i think, given the chance, buck would have been a great partner to tommy. but i don't think, based on what we saw, that he was given that chance. he was given the chance for a soft landing into his first (apparently unexamined) queer relationship. he was given the chance to be adored and to be a little demanding and a little bratty. he was given the chance to be looked after. just going on what we've seen on screen, it doesn't look like he was given the chance to be a partner.

so maybe it wasn't just that tommy thought buck needed/would want to explore other options somewhere down the line (and here's where we veer into head canon territory) but maybe it was that that weird ass conversation made him think - oh, he doesn't see me. oh, i've been here before. and maybe he's been there with someone less adorable than buck. someone who was more intentional about taking and taking, someone who didn't or wouldn't have given back, given the chance. and he knows how that ends. it ends with giving more and more of yourself, and getting less and less back. it ends with someone you thought you loved barely seeing you at all, it ends with you being Someone's Boyfriend. it ends with "tommy? who? yeah, that guy's boyfriend, right?" because you've made yourself into a source of someone else's comfort and security and you look down and realise there's nothing underneath your feet. it ends with resentment that you don't feel like you deserve to feel because you can't be mad that they don't take care of you when you've never showed them that you need taking care of.

so i think that's the tragedy of it for me. it really would have worked - if tommy was able to take. if buck was given a chance to give. there's not anyone to blame, unless you want to go through their lives and their histories and find the things and the people who made them the people who they are.

[infernolust]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗢𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗖𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻

Ghostface! Sevika x Victim! Reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2K

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Sevika watches you like prey, but it’s not just about the hunt. Her obsession cuts through the boundaries of your everyday life, a shadow that clings to you in every corner, every crevice of your existence. One phone call changes everything—confirming your worst fear: she isn’t just watching. She’s closer than you think.

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Ghostface AU, Psychological Horror, Obsession, Stalking, Dark Romance, Sapphic Undertones and Slow-Burn (but Unhinged)

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Hey, everyone! I used to post under the username @dieseldame, but I lost access to that account. I’m restarting here and bringing over all my stories, including this one. Your feedback means everything—let me know what you think!

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮.

The phone rings. Again. It’s not unexpected—not anymore. You’ve come to recognize the pattern. The low trill cuts through the silence like a serrated knife, shredding the fragile calm you’ve tried so desperately to cling to. Your hand hovers above the receiver, a hesitation you can’t afford. You don’t want to answer, but you know it’s worse if you don’t. She’ll call again. And again. And she’ll make sure you regret ignoring her.

When you finally press the phone to your ear, you hear nothing at first. Just breathing—low, steady, and predatory. It’s her.

Sevika.

She never gives you her name, but you know it’s her. The deep rasp in her voice feels like smoke curling against your skin, stinging and suffocating.

— You always leave your curtains open. — she says. Her words roll out slow, deliberate, like she’s savoring every syllable.

Your stomach drops. You glance at the window—a wide, gaping rectangle of vulnerability. The streetlights outside cast long shadows across your apartment floor, but beyond that, it’s all darkness. A void you can’t peer into, though you know she’s out there. Watching.

You clutch the phone tighter, your fingers trembling. — Where are you?

Her laugh is low and throaty, a sound that vibrates through the line and coils around your chest. —Closer than you think, sweetheart.

The term of endearment feels jagged coming from her. Mocking. Dangerous.

— Why are you doing this? — you ask, though your voice betrays you with a quiver. You want to sound strong, defiant, but all she hears is fear.

There’s a pause on the other end, a silence so weighted it feels like she’s in the room with you, breathing down your neck. Then she says, — Because you’re mine.

The words slam into you like a punch to the gut. You stagger back a step, your free hand fumbling to pull the curtains shut. The fabric is thin and cheap, offering little reassurance against the encroaching night. You feel her eyes on you even now, piercing through walls, stripping you bare.

— You’re insane. — you whisper.

Another laugh, darker this time. — Maybe. But I’m not wrong.

The line goes dead before you can respond. You stare at the receiver in your hand, your own breathing loud in the sudden silence. For a moment, you think about calling the police. But what would you even tell them? That you’ve been getting calls from someone who may or may not be watching you? That the rasp in her voice makes your skin crawl and your pulse race? That she’s made you question the solidity of your locks, your walls, your very reality?

They’d think you were paranoid. Maybe you are.

Sevika wasn’t supposed to be a part of your life. She had existed on the periphery, a shadow in Zaun’s seedy underbelly, a name whispered with equal parts fear and respect. You’d heard stories—about her loyalty, her strength, her ruthlessness. But you’d never imagined she’d notice you. You were nobody. A face in the crowd.

At least, that’s what you’d thought.

Now, her presence looms over every corner of your existence. You see her in the flicker of a cigarette ember across the street. You hear her in the growl of a passing motorcycle. She’s everywhere and nowhere, a phantom haunting your every move. And it’s not just fear that ties your stomach in knots. It’s something darker, something you don’t want to name.

Obsession.

It’s mutual—you know that much. She watches you like prey, but there’s something else in the way she lingers. It’s not just about the hunt. It’s about you. She doesn’t care about anyone else. You’ve seen the headlines, the trail of bodies left in her wake. She’s a storm, relentless and consuming, but somehow you’ve become the eye of it.

The next night, you find yourself staring out the window again. It’s a compulsion, a morbid curiosity you can’t shake. The curtains are drawn this time, but you peek through the gap where the fabric doesn’t quite meet. The street below is quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of a passerby or the distant hum of machinery.

And then you see her.

A figure leans against the lamppost at the corner, half-hidden in shadow. You can’t make out her features, but the shape of her is unmistakable. Broad shoulders, a mechanical arm that gleams faintly under the flickering light. She’s smoking, the red glow of the cigarette tip flaring like a warning.

You pull back, heart hammering against your ribs. She’s not supposed to be real. She’s supposed to be a voice on the phone, a nightmare confined to your imagination. But she’s here. And she’s watching.

The phone rings.

The sound startles you so badly you nearly drop the receiver. When you answer, her voice is calm, almost conversational.

— See something you like? — she asks.

You don’t respond, your throat too tight to form words.

— Come on, — she prods, her tone laced with amusement. — I know you saw me.

— Leave me alone. — you manage to choke out.

— Not a chance. — Her voice hardens, the humor vanishing like a flicked switch. — You don’t get to tell me what to do, sweetheart. Not when you’re the one who keeps inviting me in.

— I didn’t...

— Didn’t you? — She cuts you off, her words sharp as a blade. — You leave your curtains open. You walk the same route home every night. You’re practically begging for me to follow you.

Her words hit too close to home. You have felt her presence for weeks now, a shadow trailing your every step. You’d thought it was paranoia, your own mind playing tricks on you. But now, hearing it from her lips, it feels like validation. And that terrifies you.

— What do you want from me? — you whisper.

A pause. Then, softly: — Everything.

You don’t sleep that night. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, feels like her. You sit curled up on the couch, clutching a kitchen knife you’re not sure you’d even know how to use. The darkness presses in, suffocating, and for the first time in your life, you feel truly hunted.

By the time the sun rises, you’re a mess—eyes bloodshot, nerves frayed. But Sevika doesn’t call again. She doesn’t have to. The damage is already done. You’re hers, whether you want to be or not.

And deep down, in a part of yourself you refuse to acknowledge, you’re not sure you want her to stop.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[mtreebeardiles]

Every so often I’ll see interpretations of Liara’s N7 armor display as creepy/obsessive behaviour — and that’s a fair interpretation! But it got me thinking about my own interpretation and, well

It kinda makes sense, doesn’t it?

Whether you romance her or not, she still has that armor display. The archaeologist. Displaying the armor of someone Important™️, someone whose most recent importance was downplayed by the Alliance — support for Shepard’s Reaper theory was waning, the Alliance sent them off to more remote spots, Alchera happened…

Liara is first and foremost a student of history, and an Asari one at that. She’s trained to see those patterns of history, and knows a legend when she sees one — beyond whatever else Shepard may have been known for before ME1. And in the aftermath of Alchera, I’m sure she got her first real experience with how humans, and the Alliance in particular, will try to bury or gloss over inconvenient truths — if they can be bothered to acknowledge those truths in the first place

They didn’t memorialize Alchera until Shepard was back, two years later. They didn’t want to keep a spotlight on Shepard, on why they were even out there. But Shepard didn’t stay buried, and, well, maybe other ghosts wouldn’t either

All this to say I personally see Liara’s display as her own way of honoring Shepard as a historical symbol, as someone Historically Important™️, and part of that history is a part the Alliance wanted to forget, was happy to forget until they couldn’t anymore

But Liara wasn’t going to forget, and she’d make sure galactic history broadly wouldn’t, either. And in ME3, she takes that conviction one step further, seeding Shepard’s story, the story of the Reapers, all throughout the galaxy

That just reads as more narratively consistent to me, anyway 🤷‍♂️