#misogny tw

[metaladam]

Adam walked out of the brothel room with Bee, out of breath, his neck covered in hickeys. Breathing heavily he'd put his helmit on and made his way to the microphone, lifting it up and causing a loud feedback blare to echo across the ball room.

" Oh shit, that sucked, here let me figure this out. *panting* give me uh *panting* like 30 seconds. Oh boy....*panting* whoooof."

He'd spend the next several seconds gulping down multiple bottles of water, the sound of it going right into the microphone. After panting a bit more he'd begin once again.

" Sorry about that. I just had a good lay, bro. I tell you what, I used to hate furries, I'd call um the scum of the earth, some real degenerate losers and shit. But man, after shoving my cock into Bee's sizzling wolf pussy for an hour I think I am about to take it all back. Seriously, there was steam coming out of that thing."

He'd take another long break to drink a few more bottles of water.

" Anyway, looks like everyone's having fun! Lucifer! ( @themosthatedbeingg) Hey bitch! Looks like some big wigs have been hanging around our girl ( @infernal-feminae!) I bet she'll be layin' some pipe real soon! All good though brother, we can gossip about her together! I'll tell you about my heartache, you can tell me what the inside of Lilith's asshole feels like! I know she let you, brother, just the look and smell of your kid ( @chasingrainbcws ) tell's me she's an ass baby!

Anyway Lucifer is not alone though! We got God's little vice regent right here! Michael! ( @cast-you-dxwn) and his smokin' hot date he can't keep his hands off of ( @deifuriae)! Man oh man are those two in love! I gotta tell you Michael! With how much you are obsessed with her its shocking as fuck none of her kids are yours!

But yeah, the ball has been pretty cool so far! I got laid! Satan is probably gonna get laid and traumatize one or two people, if he does not get into a fist fight with Mikey the cuck over there! But there are some bigger things going on then just this ball! We all know Hells has its problems! You know what problems they won't have in a decade? The elderly and the disabled! CAUSE WE ARE JUST GONNA KILL UM!"

He'd shout and wait for what he thought would be a huge bout of laughter. When he heard only silence he just did it again. Jumping in the air this time and throwing his hand in the air as a signal.

" CAUSE WE ARE JUST GONNA KILL UM!"

Nothing, just random crickets somewhere.

" Fuck, tough crowed. Anyway though Hell is not the only place that's fucked up! Come 2025 us angels are gonna play more active role on Earth! What is the number one problem for humans? War and poverty! STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! You know how we are gonna stop it babes? What do humans fight over? FOOD! Who handles food? FARMERS! Where is most of the land on Earth?"

He'd wait for a moment for someone to speak up, when no one did he'd answer his own question.

" UNDER WATER BITCH! That's right we are gonna teach humans to perform agriculture under the ocean! YOU EVER HAVE A SEA BEAN, SOME SEA SQUASH, SEA PUMPKINS, SOME MOTHER FUCKING SEA SALAD YOU FUCKING CUNTS?! WELL ITS COMIN! ITS COMIN NEXT YEAR JUST LIKE I DID A FEW MINUTES AGO!

Of course we all know food is not the only problems humans have, what with social media and all the shit going on that people like Vox have brought down to Hell with um! its getting bad bro, they are sexualizing chicks, and its getting to the point where even I have a problem with it!

But yeah! We are looking at some exciting new times in Heaven, we got a new milking industry going on! Angels like milk, I like milk! I like titty milk, and that's what we are gonna harness! I am talking getting the hottest babes and milking them bro, selling that shit out on the market! Angel titty milk coming this year! No one steal my idea! I fucking thought of it first!

I'm a big thinker everyone! I am an artist! A big brained philosopher! but you don't need to be a big brained and big dicked chad like me to get shit done! Pat yourself on the backs kids, you are the future!"

"AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

*drops the mic*

@qveenofgluttony

[rpghorrorfan]

[wyldeking]

My favorite Tumblr phenomenon is when you find someone commenting some stupid misogynist shit and when you go on their blog to block them the only thing they reblog is topless women.

Like, thanks for making the easy as decision even easier, nitwit.

[springbandit]

Billy could hear the frustration and doubt in Stu's voice, and it only served to fuel his own. He shifted, wincing as the pain reminded him just how much he needed Stu to drag him through these messes. It grated at him, the idea that Stu thought he'd just been replaced, that he didn't see the full picture and the part he played in all of this. "You're looking at this all wrong." he mumbled, tone soft but insistent. "Christina? Sam? They're just distractions. Christina's the one who's been pulling the strings this whole time. My mom says Sam's probably not even anything to do with me. Just another one of those things that slut says to try and keep me coming back. As if once wasn't more than enough. It's all just some messed up scheme of hers, and I need someone I can trust to handle her." He held Stu's gaze, his expression hard but edged with a glint of sentimentality.

"That's where you come in, man. I'm not playing happy family. I'm giving you Christina because I don't want her around. I'd rather have you by my side when things finally start going our way. And they will go our way. Soon." he sighed, trying to find something to say that didn't push Stu away or make himself feel nauseous. "I'm in this with you, man. Always have been."

@phantcmwritings

Stu watched Billy carefully, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation they were in. Everything felt off. He wasn’t used to feeling so… disconnected. Usually, he’d be all in, ready to jump on whatever twisted scheme Billy had in mind. But now? Now it felt like he was being left to drift, just a tag-along for Billy’s personal drama. When Billy suggested he do whatever he wanted with Chrsitina, Stu’s eyes lit up, a small smirk creeping onto his face. Now he definitely had his attention. There were plenty of things he’d like to do to her, and none of them were very pleasant. She was as insufferable as her daughter. If not more. “You’d really be ok with that, man?” he asked, not quite convinced Billy actually meant it. “Considering everything?”

Leaning in a little bit, Stu’s expression hardened. “I’ve been patient, man. Three hospital visits worth of patient. Putting you back together in one way or another every damn time. So if I’m getting a little impatient while you play happy family, I don’t think that’s unreasonable." He looked away,  his face falling a little without him meaning for it to. “You said you don’t want to lose me, but it feels like I’ve already lost you, man. To them.” He shook his head, a small humourless chuckle escaping him. “So, what exactly is my role here? Just sit around and wait until you need something? Just help me understand what your game is, dude.”

[xoheisse]

This is off topic for my account, but I want to help spread this important information.

Korean women are experiencing massive sexual violence by men.

tw : rape, abuse, crime

Secret Man's Telegram rooms were discovered in over 70% of South Korean schools where female students' faces were photoshopped into porn using AI.

A feminist in South Korea has mapped out schools where deepfake child pornography was created by male students using photos of girls on Telegram.

South Korean journalists who wrote articles about telegram deepfake child sex crimes are also being blackmailed with deepfakes by the perpetrators.

They also speak aggressively and disrespectfully about Ukrainian and Japanese women.

updates!

[vulva-venus-hates-that-penis]

[jellyfishfem]

”girls dont have hobbies” they do and yall call em cringe, annoying, wannabe quirky manic pixie dream girls who are trying too hard

girls and women have the best and most interesting hobbies, all boys and men do is watch rape on tape and play COD and bully gay ppl online

[springbandit]

"I'm not alone." He all but shoved his words out and over hers, feeling a great urge to both correct her and shut her up at the same time. "Even if I was, I wouldn't care." Things were getting as childish as they were complicated. He didn't want to start dropping Christina's name into things, he wasn't even sure he actually cared all that much about her at all, but, it would definitely prove his mom wrong. But, at the same time, it would lead to them sniffing around one another and potentially conspiring behind his back. He couldn't handle the idea of not being in control of the narrative. "I don't care about anybody. What do I have to do to prove that to you? Butcher my own mother?" He wasn't going to do that. Not yet. He was still too weak. But, if he had to, he'd consider it. "You're not alone?" He smirked, "What poor bastard are you whoring yourself out to now, huh?"

"AND SO, HERE WE ARE. YOU HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN WHAT HE DID AND SAID OR WHAT I DID AND SAID AND YET, WITHOUT EITHER OF US, IT SEEMS AS IF YOU ARE ALONE. WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE US?" perhaps that was a sharp thing to ask and perhaps he himself didn't have an answer to something like that but it wasn't one that she'd let slip by. where was this going? nancy had no answer to that, except for the fact that she was torn between her desire for revenge and between wanting to help her son. wasn't she? "you care about him. it's weakness. it's stupidity. he doesn't deserve it," she shook her head. "oh, my son. i am not alone and yet, i choose to be here and attempt to help you to make things right. you can't do it alone. hope you know that?" @springbandit

[animentality]

[gladiatorcunt]

- MOTHERBOARD BIRDCAGE | XVI.

the machine masturbated and we had to take it or die

cw: kinktober prompt (dubcon) fem reader, takes place at the beginning of dune 1, fem reader, dark!paul, misogyny, allusions to collaring and bondage, implied mind control orgasms, cunnilingus, arranged marriage (reader and paul are the same age), slight degradation/dumbification, reader has an implied attraction to leto, implied overstimulation, teasing, paul talks about reader like she’s a literal meal, dead dove do not eat, unedited

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

The winter sun hangs heavy on Paul Atreides' head like a pale crown.

“You look radiant, my love.”

An exhalation, “Thank you, I am happy it pleases you.”

“I think it will always please me to drink in the sight of you for the rest of our lives, a crucial part of my every meal.”

His father smiles, pleased and amused, a saying that is learned behavior then. Leto Atreides studies your gait, dragging his weighing stare back to your neutral face as they yearn to drift lower, lower, lower.

The dawn marking your second decade of life flies in on wedding bells, the night sleeps restlessly on the Atreides’s ship to Arrakis.

You pace back and forth, now kept in a room in your in-laws stronghold on the sand planet. Your marriage bed is practically all that exists in the beige space, unassuming built in shelves on either side. What is a wife to do but drape herself over the golden sheets and sigh the days away, after all.

Paul has been very polite with you, smiling charmingly against your mouth during your chaste first kiss, keeping his touches brief and only from his fingertips to the small of your back. You would take a step away and you could practically feel his fingers splay out, yearning, the air crackling, but he always let his hands fall to his sides.

You smile at him when you can, in your own way, tense and barely there. You haven’t been married for 24 hours, and your husband is already off doing his duty. You try not to think about it, the reason for the Atreides to stay on Arrakis and your loneliness. Paul is someone you’ve known for as long you’ve been his wife, but you have no one else.

His mother is deeply complicated and his father… Paul told you it’s just better for you to stay away. So you have, wasting the hours away pacing, going over your outfit options with the new handmaids you selected, the rejects from the ones sent to be picked over by your mother in law. The loneliness has become unbearable, Paul visits when he has the time, brief kisses and barely there grasps of your elbow.

You can hardly be blamed for being at your wits end one night, huffing as you roll over in bed after your afternoon nap and sliding one of the pillows between your supple thighs. It’s where Paul rests his head for the few hours you share a bed as most married couples are meant to do, you can still smell the traces of sea vapor and cold tree bark that he left behind.

“Hah….” You softly moan, languidly rocking your hips, missing your clit entirely but you have been on the brink for so long that there is no need for direct stimulation.

Your cunt quickly wets the expensive golden fabric through your undergarments, and you allow yourself to imagine it’s a man’s thigh you’re grinding on. Your husband’s, pale but flushed pink and thickened with sinewy muscle, used to tensing up. You can’t say if you feel a great desire to turn these visions into reality, but the imaginary is safe, and safe is good. You cannot mess up smooshing an ordinary pillow against your weeping cunt.

You are used to arousal being shameful, everyone stuffs their fingers up their holes and goes through trial and error until they hurtle over the edge, and they’ll don their gowns to tell their juniors the horrors of sexual proclivity. You’ve never even fingered yourself, the most you’ve done is shyly slip a digit in and then yanked it out when you felt a dull burn.

If only your teachers and staff of your castle could see you now, dry humping your distant new husband’s pillow with no orgasm in sight. You sigh and sink your head into the remaining nest of pillows, lounging in the lazy pleasure that’s barely pleasure at all. Your eyes flutter shut, which turns out to be the pivotal moment of your marriage.

You feel him before you see him, a lanky hand gingerly slides over your wide hip into the dip, not halting your movements or guiding you, merely touching to touch.

Your eyes shoot open and you try to flinch but Paul hisses something quietly, a wave of calm washes over you but you still look over your shoulder to hesitantly meet his eyes. Paul grants you a small warm smile, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.

“I was planning to discuss this with you, but apparently you’ve taken matters into your own hands, my love.” He softly chuckles, bending down to peck the swell of your warm cheek.

His next words are whispered into your pores, his mouth so close that you feel the stitches sewing his skin to yours, “I know this has been a new experience for you, and you barely had time to get used to Caladan before you were whisked away here, but you have to know that I promise to be a loving husband.”

How can you be assured of that? If there is anyone to be wary of in this universe, you’ve been taught that it is one’s husband.

“Yes, well, can you at least…” You awkwardly trail off, pointedly gesturing to the pillow wedged between your thighs, he had not let you move since he had returned.

Paul's face transforms in genuine confusion, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing ever so slightly, then his eyes drift down to the pillow and he exhales an ‘ah’.

His grip tightens, the tips of his fingers form mini half craters in your flesh. “I don’t see the point in that, unless the way you’re clutching onto the thing for dear life causes you pain then it can remain where it is.”

You get swept up in the undercurrent warning. He’s right unfortunately, the pillow is too silken to bring you any discomfort, you are just too prideful and prone to embarrassment. From the glint in his eyes, this will be something he will help you work on until it’s a trait of a past you. You shyly meet his stoney gaze head on as you let your thighs relax, they slide down the pillow and settle on the plush bedding.

Paul leans over with interest, sliding his hands from your hip dips to caress your inner thighs. You automatically tense up and he tuts, fixing you with a cajoling look.

“Come on.” He coos, his fingers travel up your thighs to play with the tufts of hair peeking out from your underclothes. “How are a husband and wife meant to get to know each other if their bodies are uncharted territories? You don’t even speak to me.”

You sigh, relaxing your body so your husband can peruse it as he pleases. Paul leans down to get closer and gets a hold on your underwear, in an instant they’re torn away. You react with an aggravated exclamation, Paul smiles as he leans down to press a kiss to the center of the hair on your mound. Your breath hitches but you say nothing, frozen by the shock of what is supposed to be a perfectly natural moment between a married couple.

Paul drags his nose through your pubic hair, his tongue darts out for small licks every so often. You ball your hands into fists as he moves his mouth towards your swollen bud. When he finds it, he latches on and starts to suckle, smoothing his hands up and down your legs as if you’re nothing more than a frightened bull, a beastly thing that he tames and conquers.

“Refreshing.” He murmurs into your folds, his tongue leaves your clit to lick broad stripes before fucking inside your sloppy hole. “I could do this forever if my wife would let me.”

He would do it even if you kicked and screamed, but that’s neither here nor there. You don’t even need his powers to be open and willing this time, well, open enough. He has an acquired taste, little wives who ultimately bend to their husband’s will but act as if a spiked chain is around their neck.

The cool metal will become as warm as Arrakis’ sun in the blink of an eye.

You dig your nails into your palms, convinced you can barricade yourself against the pleasure through sheer will. Paul Atreides has never been one to succumb to your grievances, you’ll crumble to pieces under his influence, it could be a soft and slow thing if you act properly. He wants hearts to bloom in your irises, sparks of light forming a ring around your pupils, miniature collars.

You flail about for a moment and carve into the sheets with your heels, your skin so smooth you slip and lose your footing. Paul keeps watch from his vantage point between your thighs, lapping up the wetness pushed out by your body in the same way you’ve seen him sip his drinks. Slow, but purposeful, an act of seduction under the disguise of something truly mundane. He curls his tongue and it reminds you of a dance, you’re caught up in the whirlwind.

“I think…” He pants, nearly out of breath and he has not even been in your cunt for five minutes, “Your sweat should be bottled, I would spray it on my pillow and have the sweetest dreams.”

You don’t know what to say to that, Paul’s knack for muttering words that steal the breath from your lungs is another thing you’ve not grown used to.

“You fill me-” lick “-to the depths of my stomach.” lick

“Paul.” gasp, on the cusp of a nip to your inner thigh. “Husband.” gasp, this one is softer, your thigh gets a kiss now. “Let me- I can tend to you instead, you don’t have to do this.”

He laughs into your curls, and the tip of his nose glistens with you. His eyes are half lidded, more animal in heat than man. You’re truly too sweet for words, for the looming threat that is Paul Atreides. Desperate to perform your wifely duties, it’s much more bearable for you to degrade yourself by pleasing your husband than it is to imagine that what would truly please him would be burying his face in your beautiful cunt.

He doesn’t say any of this to you, however, because there are times when Paul prefers you just as on edge as you like to keep yourself. Your fingers twitch and slowly unfurl, but your growing hope that this strange torture will stop is dashed as Paul dives down to suck on your swollen bud. You’re surprised by how sensitive it is, how it twitches and throbs under his tongue’s attention.

Your fingers seek out the bed beneath you, begging for its help, trying to claw through the mattress itself. Paul’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs now, like you’re a piece of bread he can tear through to devour your innards. Your inexperience rears its head in a terribly embarrassing way, you don’t know where to look or how to push him away or how to fight against your body’s response. Your mind whispers that you want to card your shaky fingers through his hair, but you don’t, you do not.

If not because you’re determined to maintain the distance you share with Paul, then because he would enjoy it too much. He’s terrible, in a subtly sinister way, but he would drink up your every touch and scrap of affection like a parched tree.

“This cunt, it makes me sick. This hole… you’re so wet, my flower.” The syllables drip from his pink mouth like the drool that pools in your entrance. “You send me over the cliff into madness, ever since the first moment I saw you. My wife in everything but name, the missing vessel of my soul.”

Paul kitten licks your clit, tenderly raking his nails up and down your squirming legs. You act as if you can buck off your incoming orgasm like a wild horse, like your husband eating you out is a serpent wrapped around your sternum. Luckily, it’s in his DNA to tame unruly creatures, bring them to heel under his stern outstretched hand.

You mewl, a soft hearted creature at heart, practically purring, “Please.”

“Please, what? You know I’d be more than happy to give my wife whatever her heart desires. Have you forgotten my vows already? Maybe your brain is leaking out your cunt.” Paul inquires suggestively, he flattens his tongue over your hole and stills, the corners of his mouth hike up when you inevitably rock your hips against his face.

“I… why did you stop?” You don’t say that if he’s so desperate to meld your skin together then why is he ceasing his overbearing actions, but that might come across as disrespect, and Paul seems to enjoy disrespect because he can make you wish you had never been anything but the pet cleaning his feet.

A wife is not disrespectful, especially one that will soon become an even greater royal. You are blessed to have this life, as unwanted as it is, you could be a concubine, one of his father’s perhaps. Time will tell if you wish to belong to a different Atreides, but you are anchored to the present with every useless thrust your hips do.

“That’s alright, if you’ll only let me make you come by wearing yourself out, then I don’t mind. Be my quest, my love.” Paul chuckles, though it’s muffled in your folds.

You make him forget what time it is, what his next schedule will be and who he will have to navigate interacting with. History must be looking kindly on House Atreides once again, because you seem to be heading for a day wasted in bed after he’s done with you. It will be a great help to have a wife whose head is too high up in the clouds to place another cinder block on your already strenuous load.

He guesses Gurney and Duncan are right, being “pussy whipped” does exist. He can’t wait to come to meetings with his wife’s pleasure hanging off his body like the finest jewelry.

You speak again, your tone is irritated and breathless with anticipation, “D-dear. Please, husband, I feel strange, I know I’m doing it wrong. I’m sorry.”

That usually works, right? Husband’s like it when their Wife’s apologize when they believe they’re solely in the wrong. Paul seems to join them in that, nevermind that the only thing wrong you could ever do is place yourself as a separate being from him. Marriage is not for people who are content with being untethered to their lover, it’s for the howling monsters who imbed it at the center of their selves.

“Hm, that’s what I thought. This doesn’t have to be something you force yourself to endure, I can make you feel so good if you allow me.” He whispers and tightens his hold on your thighs, spreading them farther and diving back in for thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths, sevenths.

You moan louder than you thought yourself capable of, and Paul matches you with a deep one of his own that comes from the back of his throat. He slips his tongue back in your hole, his dark eyes keep watch so he can catalog every miniscule change in your expression to comb over like one of his precious digital logs. You are fire made into a humanoid being, searing curves climbing over the golden sheets like a flood of flame, your limbs searching out any reprieve from how irrevocably your lust penetrated your body.

Paul’s eyes flit towards the bundle of restraints in the corner of the room, not hidden from your line of sight, you’ve just stupidly never noticed them. You don’t notice the thought slithering around in your subconscious until it’s brought to the forefront. He opens his jaw as wide as he possibly can and does everything in his power to swallow you whole, thrusting his tongue in you until your previous self pools below your ass and wets his chin.

He would play with your clit like he’d rather take it and fidget with it when political matters get too stressful, but you arch your back as he goes to take his hands away from your thighs and his mind is made up for him. See? You really are shaping up to be an outstanding wife.

He curls his palms around the thickest part of them, pushing them apart until you whine at the slightest hint of a burn. Paul wants to show you that you can be split on more than just his cock.

You hear his voice in your head now, reverberating throughout the halls of your skill. It seems so hollow, like a bird’s, the whooshing sounds of his suggestions rattle your foundation.

A faint bundle of heat flutters in your cunt, from your clit to the precise tongue pistoning in and out of your loosening hole. Paul’s dark stare impales you into place, leaning on your elbows in this once cold marriage bed, all the trappings of luxury.

My beloved wife.

The wind fanning my flames just by existing.

You are so very dear to me, when you slump in defeat, when you laugh, when you think I’m not looking. I always am.

Gorgeous girl with a cunt most of my men would fall on their weapons to weep at your feet in hopes for a taste.

You’re so sleepy, so lax. Oh, I know. You can drift, my flower, I’ll be here, I’ll keep you anchored.

Your maids have been bored, I’ve noticed. They should be happy to change these sheets when I summon them tomorrow, life itself clutched in their hands.

Let go, my love, drench my tongue and my face, I want you to spray it so far your come coats the back of my throat. You never did give me a suitable wedding gift.

Your body assumes its own battle stance, locked up tight right before your spine feels like it’s been snapped by an invisible force. Your orgasm burns its way out of you, but you choke on how cooling it is at the same time. You’re lost to him, too out of it to be able to tell how you adorned your husband. You feel drying wet skin nuzzling between your thighs, you hear sheets being rustled in your mind as Paul blows steady air onto your clit.

Your fingers find their way through his brown almost-tresses as the small licks start again, rekindling.

[bunniefckhole]

pointing a gun at my head and telling me you’re tired of doing all the work to rape me so this time i should just rape myself on your cock this time i’m gonna sit on it and do the work because i’ve been an ungrateful bitch and i better milk the cum out of you or you’ll be forced to use that gun

[backmaskcd]

"In my defense, I didn't expect it to wind up in the paper but that was probably very dumb of me to think that wouldn't be front page news," Gio grumbled. It was better that he was left to bring up things on his own terms, but it was hard when that information was blasted across town. "I only have Italian kitchen skills. I used to watch my mom cook when I was younger, and while my dad was pretty insistent that was a woman's job, I learned a few recipes along the way since I never did manage to get myself a wife, and there's only so many microwavable meals one can stand to eat before it gets old."

"i did, yeah, and that was after i came home to find you with bloody knuckles. the paper just filled in the details." as a general rule, she gave gio his space when it came to certain topics. they didn't discuss gilly a lot, but any information he offered up made salem's heart swell. he was different with her, and vice versa. "i'll take whatever win i can get at this point," she chuckled, her arms stretching until they wrapped around his neck, having to stand on her toes to do so. but his offer made salem blush, and suddenly she felt shy under his desk. "i won't say no to that. i wanna see what the grumpy italian has for some kitchen skills."

[konigsblog]

misogynistic ghost my love!! bullying my cunt not caring about if he fits or even if it feels good!!

cw: non-con/rape, misogyny, sexism :3 🌷🌷 you're speaking right to my dumb brain -- sexist!ghost GRGRRFMFMMFM

simon doesn't feel bad when he makes you cry from his hurtful stereotypes. they can range from light to being horribly offensive, usually leaving you with a slack jaw. all he can think about his sliding his cock into your agape mouth, get better use from that dumb mouth.

anything that comes out your feminist mouth sounds like bullshit to simon. he rolls his eyes, spreading his muscular, burly thighs and taking his shirt off, his body glistening with light sweat. you complain about him being horrible, especially how he gropes you, whispering in your ear,

“what? don't act all shocked when i touch ya’, you’ wouldn't’ be wearin’ that if you didn't want it, baby.” he chuckles lowly.

being against pornography, you're so disappointed but not surprised when you find out that he actively watches porn.

simon's grip on your head was burning. a throbbing pain on your roots as he forced you to watch the rough porn videos on his laptop. he pounded into you while you sniffled and choked of sobs, gagging on the two thick and long fingers he'd stuffed down your throat. you didn't want it, but simon was so sure he could change that dumb, feminist brain with a good, hard fucking -- to set you into your fuckin’ place.

“what's wrong, pretty? can't handle seein’ it, feelin’ it? ya’ wouldn't' be squirtin’ all over my cock if you didn't want this.”

each thrust is pure agony, a painful burn between your thighs as he ruts into you cruelly. cheeks tearstained and wet with wide, glossy eyes, a pained expression plastered and stained on your face at the sight of a woman getting slapped and hit during sex.

[yeast-infection-enthusiast]

[animentality]

[springbandit]

"Do you trust yourself? That's the only one that really matters. If you can't trust yourself, then it doesn't matter who else you trust." William's trust was truly only ever on himself. Of course, he respected the opinions of his family and wanted to hear them when the time was right, but, when it came to making decisions that impacted his life, he was the only one who had all the information he truly needed. "Shit, really? They didn't even get their story straight before coming to you?" The more he heard, the more interesting it all became. "I hate to say it, but, it doesn't sound like they have a lot of respect for you. It sounds rushed. Like they didn't even care if you were convinced. Disrespectful." He could only imagine how livid he'd be if he was in the other's shoes. If his wife ever dared to disrespect him like that, well, he didn't like to think about it, but, the consequences would be felt for years to come. "If she's treating you like this, why do you stick around? Women...they're such..troublesome..creatures. Can't live with them, can't live without them." William's love for others came mostly from what they could provide him. How similar they were to him and how willing they were to fall in line. He couldn't ever imagine being in Parker's shoes. He wouldn't allow it. "You think she'd want to cure you, when it doesn't even sound like she cares that she's breaking your heart? Think about it. It doesn't quantify."

@fcdcdmcmories

".. YEAH, I SUPPOSE. EVEN IF THERE AREN'T THAT MANY PEOPLE THESE DAYS THAT I ACTUALLY TRUST." he thought that there had been. he had thought that he could have trusted cecilia and that they were past their old issues, but .. had he been wrong? was she still precisely as she had been in the past? had he been an idiot to think that she was ever going to change? ".. no. i don't. i pretended that i did until i can get more information, but.. not for a million years. especially not when the guy's best friend or brother or whatever the fuck he is told me that they hate each other. so.. friends? enemies? clearly they can't come up with a good lie and stick to it." and it hurt. it hurt and it showed as clear as day in his expression, because he had really, really thought that they were past this. and if what he had been hearing was true? john kramer, of all the people in the world? "YEAH. only thing that came out of this is that now, i'm questioning everything that comes out of her mouth. wondering if it's all a lie or .. close to it, anyways." the other's words made him freeze. "you think that- no, she wouldn't do that. she's been working day and night to make that happen, i don't.." could that be it? @springbandit