#take it easy but take it is really taking more than i got man.

[imblueeforyuu]

yandere frontman x male player reader

a/n i wrote this when i was high as shit and had to spend to much time editing it i want to kms

Your hole in the wall corner store was going bankrupt, you were millions in debt and your life was falling apart. This store has been in your family tree since forever, it was your family's pride and joy. And you were ruining it,  Of course you were. the one thing you had to live for was being taken from you. You were ashamed and embarrassed. Why did you have to be the one to ruin your family business? You felt hopeless, there was no way you could continue to live like this, i mean it wouldn’t be selfish to kill your self, right? You have no family to take on the debt you created, so it’s fine. Maybe it was best to take the cowards way out. Someone stopped you though, on your way back home a strange business man stopped you and offered to pay you if you played a simple game of Ddakji, you couldn’t turn that down, no way. In the end you managed to make half a million won, which was not nearly enough but you were out of options. The strange man gave you a card and went on his way. 

With nothing better to do with your already broken life you decided to join this game. You didn’t expect to win, god no, you just wanted to try something so you could say you really did attempt to make some money, and you didn’t just give up. 

You woke up with a quick breath, you look around quietly, you notice a 002 on your uniform. Interesting, were you the second person to join this game? Whose the first, they had to be more desperate than you to join so fast. You had a personal mission now, to find this number 1 guy.. You crawled out of your bed to start your search. Everyone was either waking up or still asleep. This would be your perfect opportunity to find this guy, or girl. You looked around for a good while and found nothing. It wasn't until the masked guards took you to the first game you gave up. You don’t know why you're so interested in this man you're sure it’s just some boring fat old man. you were so incredibly focused on finding this guy you didn’t realize people were dying around you. Well you did but it really didn’t matter to you. On the walk back you noticed something, your number 001! And two guards leading him to the line of players, why was he with them? Maybe he got separated but you doubt it. You are definitely going to keep an eye on him now. 

“Hey your number one,” you stated, you really weren’t good with interactions. your dad always used to tell you that your awkwardness was what was going to run the store to the grave, and it really did. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he said looking into your eyes. You stare back looking at every detail of his face. He was older but definitely still attractive. He didn't look like he belonged, he had the look of someone more well off. You glare slightly before continuing walking. You felt his stare bore into the back of your head.

Next was voting, you pressed O, you did want to continue the game. Why would you want to stop here, it was fun, and easy. It was just kid's games. It had been awhile since you were a kid  but you're sure you still had it in you. You went back to your bed and sat observing, there was a group of people surrounding the person claiming they’ve played this before, You can’t blame them who wouldn't be intrigued? you also noticed a purple hair guy and his little minion pick a fight with some other guy. Boring, what wasn’t boring was the reaction of a certain number one. He was really interesting, first he supposedly worked with the guards and now you've learned he's really good at combat. Maybe he was secretly a guard, or some type of spy, you needed to gather more information on him. You look around the room and notice player 456, the crazy one. Maybe he knew something. 

Your chat with him was unsuccessful, player 001 came back, the very person you wanted to gossip about. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about him exactly, still if he was someone important and noticed you trying to get more information you're pretty sure he’ll have you killed. Unintentionally you’ve found yourself part of 456s group. You tried to slip away when 001 came back but you were too slow. Fuck now you were stuck interacting with this creep. 

The time the second game happened you’re so done with these people. Player 001 whose name you've learned to be Young-il especially, he made you feel nervous, it’s probably all in your head that he’s a spy or something. You’ve done this before; get it in your head someone’s out to get you when they're really innocent. But there's definitely something off about this guy. 

6 legs was pretty much boring, you split away from  gi-huns group as soon as the opportunity came. You don’t dislike the group by any means but they were loud, you've always been so introverted.  Maybe you were just jealous, you probably were.

“002,” 388 came up to your bed with the rest of the group following behind . You peel your eyes open, god you're not ready to talk to them.

“Yes?”

“Where did you go?”

“I lost you guys,”

You probably shouldn’t make them hate you especially because they were your ticket to a good amount of money, even though they were against the games they were smart. And strong. Perfect for victory. They started talking about voting and you could care less. you wanted to keep these games going. 

Mingle was annoying, you were the last pick of the group. When it finally was time for two players, young-li grabbed your Hand. You expected him to pick gi-gun who was practically his boyfriend, but no he picked you. When you got to the room you didn’t expect someone to already be there. You were at a loss. Maybe it would be best if you just walked out. But young-il can never not shock you? He grabbed that poor man and snapped his neck. You were shocked but that proves your suspicion, this man was not who he seemed. 

It was Time for gi-huns master plan. To fight back, you didn’t have the heart to tell this delusional old man there was no way he would win but you did have a use for this. Finally proving that number one was evil. You were going to wait and see him betray them, but You decide to join the raid and follow in the back. When it was time to go to the front office you joined young-il and the group that went with him. You said you were going to stay with 456 and 390 but secretly followed behind him and his group. You saw everything, him shooting the people with him, him pretending he died and his smirk at the camera. You smile. perfect.

“Got you.” You raised your gun to face him. He didn’t seem to take you seriously, he smiled softly before moving closer. You glare.

“Back up,” you yell, you clutch the trigger. 

You shouldn’t have let your guard down so quickly, you saw him reach to put his gun down. Seeing him submit you released your grip on the trigger just a little bit. He must have seen you relax, because Out of nowhere he grabbed his gun again and shot your leg. You fall over unable to hold yourself up. You saw young-il move closer towards you until he was standing right by your head. He crouched down before smiling even wider. You look into his eyes, you were expecting anger not pure bliss in your bloody weak body. Your world went black.

When you woke up you noticed you were on an uncomfortable leather couch. Your head was propped up on a pillow. Your eyes were still somewhat blurry. You reach to rub the blurriness out but you notice your hands were tied. You try not to panic just yet but that fails miserably. You look around desperately and wiggle around, unintentionally knocking something off a table, ouch now your leg hurts. You freeze for a moment, damn it now your kidnapper knew you were awake. The elevator door dings causing you to flinch, fuck time was running out. Quickly you rush to hide somewhere. Unfortunately your feet and hands were tied so there was not much you could do. Of course besides rolling. You quickly roll under the couch which fortunately was tall enough for you to fit under but damn, rolling off the couch must have reopened your gunshot wound , you almost scream in pain. You heard the clicking of dress shoes come closer, they stop for a moment before continuing. They stop right at the front of the couch before the owner of the pair of expensive shoes starts to talk

“You know your feet are showing,” young-il, if that even was his name, said. You kept quiet even though you knew it wouldn’t help at all. 

“You can come out,” he paused before continuing. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”  

Talk my ass. There is no way he just wanted to talk, if so why would he kidnap you? Yes, maybe you held a gun to him but still. You crawl out from under the couch, Or well wiggle out. When you finally managed to get out you saw young-il he was drinking a glass of whiskey. You were still on the floor wiggling around trying to free yourself from the rope. Young-il stood up and crouched by you. 

“What happened to all your confidence? You were so sure of yourself with that toy gun of yours,” he smirked and started to pat your head. You flinch and scrunch your face. 

“Fuck you,” you glare.

“Sh [name],” your eyes widened, you don’t remember telling him your name. But if he was the mastermind behind this you guess he would know your name after all. It still did disturb you. He disturbed you. The way he smiled, the way he crouched, and how he patted your head. There was something off about him, I mean of course there was. You felt helpless, he had tied you up and was treating you like a child. You spit at him, what else could you do? You were helpless, ok? That seemed to make him mad, good. He stood up abruptly and stared down at you. He kicked you swiftly. the middle of your back hit the leg of the couch. You winced and curled up into a ball. 

“What the fuck do you want from me,” you glare at the floor. You were still in the ball and your voice was low. You're not sure he could hear you. 

“Hm, you.” you heard the leather of the couch crinkle as he sat. What did he mean by you? Why Did he want you? You were just a failing business owner, you were about to end it when you were invited to these games. Maybe he liked that stuff? You hugged your legs closer, being careful of your wound. Why the fuck did you have to be so interested in him? 

[fadelbison]

Fadel and Bison Learning to Volley Affection in the way that only assassin (real) brothers (fake) can

the curse of being me is that I watch this show entirely with the lens that fadel/kant and bison/style are basically the same characters with a few key differences [like c'mon Kant's bg story is that he was a khun nu himself suddenly thrust into poverty and fatherhood to his baby brother??? its embarrassing how easy it is to watch the show in this way I think the show should make this harder for me] and it's in these differences that the compatibility of FadelStyle and KantBison comes in so strongly that it also kind of dooms Fadel and Bison to have ever worked as a pair even though that would be as far as I can tell Bison's ideal scenario?? [please his lovers in trenches fantasy is canonical the show is really just putting it all out there for me okay??]

And it's too simplistic to be an analysis and honestly largely based on my feelings but gosh doesn't it all boil down to how Fadel expresses affection and how that just doesn't work for Bison. I think Bison has had a lot of growth in understanding Fadel, I think Style actually helped with that. In fact, the biggest reason I would argue that the foil relationship runs in the Fadel/Kant and Bison/Style vein is because the brother's relationship got better when they started their romantic relationships. Suddenly, Bison realizes that he needs to ask things of Fadel and Fadel realizes that Bison needs a little softness now and then.

Fadel threatens Style all the time this is how they flirt. The way he shows affection stays the same whether it's Bison or Style. But Style was able to take it, he's able to volley it. When Fadel threatens to kill him Style comes back with a "well, make sure I look hot." when Fadel threatens Bison, Bison kind of withers a little.

I mean I don't blame him he is such a 'no thoughts just baby' of a man if I've ever seen one

[2 screenshots of Bison. 1st where he tries acting cutesy with Fadel over his stab wound and 2nd where Fadel shoots him down with a "Want another stab wound?"]

Bison's personality is just so ill equipped to handle Fadel's brand of affection it's almost hilarious because like he does the same thing to Style right before they reconcile hahaha

[2 screenshots of Fadel telling Style "I can be worse" and "You want that?"]

BUT! He's learning!!! After his initial frustration he does smile in this fond and exasperated way.

I screamed when I saw him share this moment with Style:

[2 screenshots of Bison telling Style like he's sharing a secret, "He {Fadel} acts all tough and rough on the outside but on the inside he's just a softie.]

Oh??? oh you understand this about your brother now??? You've only had like over a decade to figure this out about him and yet in Ep.1 you told Kant that Fadel was tough inside and out!!!! Why are you telling Style this as though he isn't the reason you even know!!! I think this has always been Bison's fundamental issue with Fadel:

I think he's just never figured out that Fadel loves him and worries about him? Poor baby, I'll never get over him asking Fadel to be his brother like Kant is with Babe. Fadel is already that brother to you Bison, what are you talking about 😭😭😭 I think their relationship with Keen has revealed so much about Fadel and Bison [because god forbid they tell us anything directly about their past] but Keen has struggled to be seen by their family, for his efforts to be acknowledged by Mother and by Mother's favorite (Fadel).

Bison's competence has gotten him a certain measure of respect from Mother and Older Sister (Fadel) but he too has struggled to be seen by them, to be taken seriously by them. Keen and Bison are more similar in their position in the family than Bison and Fadel even though Keen can't see it. But Bison can, and I would argue that Bison has always felt it.

It's not surprising that Fadel and Bison's dynamic shifts because Bison is the one learning to talk to Fadel, with jibes and threats and guns if needed

[screenshot of Fadel saying to Bison "You're turning a gun on your own brother for him?]

@mirmoria was extremely spot on when they said that this moment was never about Kant, it was always about Fadel finally listening to him and giving Bison his right to choose Kant's fate back to him. Bison has finally figured out what to do about his lack of agency in this relationship! Bison says as much too:

[Screenshot of Bison responding to Fadel with a gun pointed at him, "But it's my life"]

Anyway, with all of this new found understanding between them at no point in the story have Bison and Fadel been more primed to fall in love than right now, yes right at the height of their respective romances on the beach. And these are the kinds of earth shattering conclusions you can always hope to find in the stuff I write.

[weneeya]

don't like you m.list | rules

pairing. dr ratio x reader

note. i'm finally falling in honkai star rail so be prepared to see characters from there quite a lot from now on (and i'm not even sorry about it)

Working with no one else than Dr Veritas Ratio was really a pain in the ass. It might have been a lot of people’s dream to be able to work with someone as intelligent as him, but it was surely not yours. In fact, you would have preferred doing this with absolutely anyone else other than him. The explanation was easy : you could not stand that man. He was arrogant and always called other people stupid. He had no respect for them, so you did not have any for him or his work. 

You had no choice though, working with him was not your own decision and you could not discuss it no matter how much you wanted to. This is how you ended up sitting in a library with Veritas in front of you, speaking over and over, again and again, without ever closing his mouth. A sigh left your lips, and you met his eyes. 

“Do you shut your damn mouth sometimes?” You asked him bluntly, and he looked at you in disbelief for a second ; before his expression was quickly replaced with a frown. “And do you have some respect for people sometimes?” You suddenly straighten your back at his words. 

You thought about a million things to answer his stupid remark, but you decided to be more mature than him this time and not to reply to him. You shook your hand slowly, monitoring him to keep going in his never ending monologue. After some time, you began to listen again to what he was talking about. 

No matter how hard you despised him, you could never deny the genius he was. His brain was working a thousand times faster than anyone else, and you could only agree to what he was saying. Except right now, because you had something else to propose as an idea. 

You raised your finger, and it made him stop speaking for a moment. Aeons, it really was great when he stopped. You cleared your throat, looking at him with a light grin on your lips. Oh, he did not like that. 

“That’s a good point, I admit it ; but I don’t like you. So fuck you, and here’s my idea.” And with that, you stole the pencil in his fingers and began to explain your own point of view and your ideas on the subject, not giving him the opportunity to stop you. It was your turn now. 

He could not believe it. Not only the fact that you were a brat clearly making fun of him right now, but also that your ideas were… great. It was hard for him to admit it, but you really had some good points that he did not mention even once. Maybe you did not like him, and maybe he did not care much (or that was what he said) but you were not as much of an idiot as he thought you were. 

When you were done, you expected him to dismiss everything you said and called you the stupidest person on this planet. But he did not. Actually, he almost did the opposite. Well, you would never say out loud that you were pretty smart, but he did not throw your ideas away. 

At your biggest surprise, you both began to work together on the subject to find a good idea and solution that would use both of your brains and not only his. It was a first. You almost thought he was making fun of you in the beginning ; but you had to admit that he clearly was taking you seriously. 

It was refreshing, and as the days got on while working on this, you realized that perhaps he was not as much of an asshole you thought he was. He was just a genius surrounded by slower brains and he had some trouble accepting it. But he was almost treating you as an equal now that you had tell him to fuck off and put some respect on your name. 

Perhaps you should have done this sooner.

thank you for reading!

[dear-satan]

Beginning Of the End II

player 230/Thanos x Reader

★ word count: 8k

★ CW: fem!reader, reader is a player 457, funding issues, fraud, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, mentions of death, blood, normal squid game stuff

★ previous part, next part

The headache was terrible - dull, radiating to every limb. A quiet groan escaped your lips, a hand rubbed your face. When you wanted to open your eyes, a bright light blinded you. It took you a few seconds to try to open them again and what you saw froze the blood in your veins.

You were lying on a metal, bunk bed - one of many. They stood in a huge hall, resembling some kind of warehouse. The walls were painted in two colors - white on the stone floor and turquoise on the middle. There were no decorations except for a large, digital counter with the number 457, hanging high above the door.

You looked at yourself. You were covered with a blanket and there was no trace of your clothes. Instead, you had some kind of tracksuit set in a similar color to the walls above. On the left chest there was a fabric sticker with the number, 457. There was no phone, keys, nothing in the pocket of the sweatshirt or sweatpants. You couldn't locate your purse either.

"Where the hell am I?" you asked yourself more than anyone else. Besides, after looking around you noticed that you were the only person who had woken up so far.

You slid quietly out of bed and started to walk down - your bed was at the very top. You walked slowly, staring at every sleeping person in your sight. You tried to remember anything that had happened after you got in the car.

The night was cold, really cold. You were wearing a light jacket that you had grabbed in a hurry. Slowly you began to doubt your actions, that you had decided to leave the house that day.. You didn't know who the people organizing the game were.. However, this man promised a large sum for winning, you yourself got 100,000 won for winning ddakji. So how much will you get for winning something else? 200, 300 or maybe 500 thousand? Maybe it wasn't much, but every injection of cash will come in handy.

The roar of the engine brought you back to earth. A dark car stood in front of you, with the window slightly open. You didn't see who was sitting behind the wheel, but you were asked for your name. You gave it with a slight hesitation and then the back door opened. You entered, despite your internal battle.

"Good evening." you groaned even though there was no one inside "Do you know where-" you stopped when a strange smell started to come out of the air conditioning, making your head spin. You tried to grab the handle, open the door but to no avail. You felt all your strength leave your body, and then-

"Su-bong.?" you stopped for a moment, blinking a few times. You walked over to the metal frame.

He was lying there, covered with a blanket. His orange hair was a perfect contrast to the white pillow. "Baby.." you crouched down next to him, touching his cheek with a trembling hand. On his chest was the number 230. "He must have joined earlier." you thought, resting your forehead on the mattress. Everything started to connect - where he got the money, who "beat" him and what "easy job" he found. He also met this guy, he also played ddakji.. And he also got stuck god knows where, with you.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

You squeezed his hand while standing in the crowd. You listened silently as outraged people began to complain, to shout. Guards in masks, dressed in pink jumpsuits explained everything. They explained that nothing was going to happen to you, that during 6 days you would take part in 6 different games, after which your belongings would be immediately returned to you. But what stuck in your mind the most was the win.

45.7 billion won.

Your legs gave way at the thought of winning such a huge sum of money. That amount would pay off any debt and provide a decent living for a very, very long time.

Did you hear that beautiful?” Su-bong leaned in to you, “I told you everything would go back to normal. We’ll be rich!” he left a small kiss on your cheek, causing whispers from the crowd of people.

Of course the young ones knew him. As soon as he woke up, he was surrounded by a lot of the more daring fans, and the shy ones stood far away, staring at you.

"Yes.."

Players, the first game will start soon. Please prepare and follow the rules.

You were let out into a pastel corridor with lots of stairs. First, you were told to take a picture. Then you went up the stairs to the upper floor. Large doors led to a square, the sun pleasantly caressed your skin. The walls imitated some kind of field and on the other side of the square stood a tall doll, staring at you blankly. Above it was a similar display to the room you woke up in.

The first game will be red light, green light. Players are lined up behind a white line and can only move when the music plays. Breaking the rules means the elimination of the player.

"That's it? Are we going to play a stupid kids game?"

A man ran out in front of the crowd - 456. He started shouting something about the game. That you can't move under any circumstances and that elimination means death.

Death.

You swallowed hard and your body shuddered, which didn't go unnoticed by Thanos. “Easy, señorita.” His smile didn’t make you feel any better. “He’s probably high on something.”

It's time to start the game

Music began to play from the speakers. The crowd began to hesitantly take steps forward, crossing the white line. When the music stopped and a "red light" was heard in the background, 456 shouted to freeze, which you did without any protest. It seemed pretty simple. It was literally a game that everyone probably played as a child. Elimination seemed really hard.. But not impossible.

196 standing near you started screaming and waving her arms. Then there was a moment of silence until suddenly a short, loud and sharp sound was heard throughout the entire area, after which the girl fell to the ground

Player 196 has been eliminated.

You saw blood on the sandpaper. Its metallic scent spread through the air, making your stomach twist inside you. The other players, seeing her dead body, began to run away, making the next series of shots echo dully in your skull. Red liquid sprayed across your face as the bullet went almost straight through the head of the woman in front of you. You felt the instant noodles you had eaten a few hours earlier rise to your throat, and your legs were giving way. But you kept standing. You had to.

"Don't move, do you hear me? I'm right behind you, everything will be okay.." Su-bong's voice slowed down your heartbeat.

The rules of the game were announced over the speakers again, after which the music indicating movement began to play. However, neither you nor a few other players dared to move. You looked up at the screen, two minutes left. Hearing the green light announcement, you wanted to take a step forward, you really did. But you couldn't. Your legs seemed to refuse to obey you, effectively grounding you. If you stayed here - you would die. That was for sure.

Panic began to take hold of your body as you barely refrained from moving as that damn doll scanned the crowd with its eyes. Luckily, you moved at the perfect moment when the music started. Thanos' hand grabbed yours and pulled you forward. "I've got you." Now you were following him. He was the guide who slowly led you to the finish line. There was only one thought in your head - loud and rational.

You wanted to go home, now.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

Hands were shaking as you sat on Su-bong's mattress. Your gaze was fixed on a point known only to you. You ignored all external stimuli since your feet crossed the safe white line. You ignored the questions Thanos asked you, his touch, warm words of comfort. You ignored how some boy with the number 124 approached him and since then he didn't leave him. You were terrified, although this statement was really a vague description of what you felt. You had never seen a dead person and you didn't think you ever would. It was a completely different experience than watching death on the TV screen. You felt it, you felt the touch of death on your own skin and it was the most disgusting touch you had ever experienced.

However, your attention was caught by the screams. Players started shouting about going home, about wanting to stop participating in the games. 456 mentioned something about voting. Everyone agreed, they wanted to vote. You lined up in the middle. The voting started with the highest number - you. You let go of Thanos' hand and walked up to two buttons - a red X and a blue O. You bit your lip, turning your head away. Su-bong was staring at you with a slight smile, his face still smeared with blood from one of the players. Then you looked at the pig-shaped piggy bank hanging above you - after you returned to the hall, it had been filled with cash.

45.7 billion.

You sighed heavily, looking at the buttons again. Your hand lifted and after a moment of hesitation, it fell on the button. The guard handed you a cloth velcro patch and you slowly walked to the designated spot, placing the marker on your right breast.

X - 1 O - 0

taglist: @ttokyocat @itsvaleriegarza @jdbxws @hyunjinieandlix @chrisstyle @the-iridescent-phoenix

[robin-wing-man]

"Prison? I thought you'd moved beyond this. I'm disappointed, honestly. You're still going by Batman's version of justice"

You know, people love to slap labels on me. Circus kid, Boy Wonder, Batman’s ex-sidekick, Nightwing—take your pick. I mean, technically, they’re all true, but none of them really sum it up. It’s like calling Bruce “just a guy with a car.” Sure, it’s accurate, but it doesn’t exactly cover the whole picture.

For starters, yeah, I grew up in a circus. The Flying Graysons. If you’ve never heard of us, I don’t know what to tell you—maybe get out more? We were kind of a big deal. Swinging through the air, defying gravity, making people gasp—it wasn’t just a job; it was life. Turns out, being raised in a traveling circus full of questionable characters prepares you really well for crime-fighting. Who knew? Acrobatics, showmanship, knowing when someone’s about to try and stab you? Basic skills, honestly.

And then there’s the whole “Robin” chapter. Or saga, really. Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat it—working with Batman was... an adjustment. One minute, I’m living on the road with my family, and the next, I’m fighting psychos in Gotham’s alleys with a guy who growls more than he talks. Bruce isn’t exactly what you’d call emotionally available, but the man knows how to get stuff done. Say what you want about his personality (or lack thereof), but he’s good at what he does. Did I enjoy getting lectured about justice while dodging bullets? Not exactly. Did I learn a lot? Definitely.

But here’s the thing about being a sidekick: eventually, you have to stop being one. I’m not saying it was easy breaking away from Bruce—because, wow, it wasn’t—but I needed to figure out who I was without him. Enter Nightwing. New name, new suit, same sarcastic attitude. I ended up in Blüdhaven, a city that makes Gotham look like it’s trying too hard. It’s grimy, it’s messy, and it’s mine.

So, who am I now? Depends on the day. Sometimes I’m Dick Grayson, the guy who drinks too much coffee and still doesn’t know how to fold fitted sheets. Sometimes I’m Nightwing, the guy who flips off rooftops and pretends he’s got it all together. Most of the time, I’m just trying to survive the chaos and not fall on my face. You know, the usual.

See you on the other side, or not.

-- Dick.J.G.

[curlysfist]

03. Bass Fugato

Chorus

Synopsis: Things—life—it streamlines, and maybe he never had to swallow anything at all. (tw manipulation and financial abuse, ig identity crisis on Curly's part? MINORS DNI.)

Word count: 1.7k

Chapter Navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4]

Notes: were this a full detailed ao3 fic I would've taken a lot more time with building to a flowers for the algernon subtext + symbolism leading to greater clarity moment but. this is stress relief, I do not have the bandwidth to be doing all that sauur yeah. sigh. what I have planned for 4 is so exciting tho muehuehe

Playing housewife for a wealthy woman was the last place Curly ever expected to find himself.

But here he was. And God help him, he was good at it. Better than he had any right to be. The rhythm of domesticity fit him too well, too snug. His cooking had improved, becoming something of an art form rather than a necessity. Cleaning was effortless—he liked things neat, and neither of them made much of a mess. The weekly routine of laundry, groceries, and tending to the yard around the house became second nature.

He told himself it was easy. Smooth. No rough edges, no chaos. Just… being.

It was the kind of life he'd thought about sometimes, late at night when his body ached and his mind wandered. Something simple, something still.

But when he looked in the mirror, there was a dullness in his reflection that hadn't been there before.

He stuck to you like a shadow, anchoring himself in the spaces you left for him. When you worked, he busied himself with small tasks—organizing, polishing, preparing. At first, he thought it was temporary. He’d find a job, something to keep him occupied, to keep him. But every time he tried to bring it up, you'd smile that soft, knowing smile and tell him, “We have everything we need here, don’t we?”

He had no reason to argue with that. Everything he needed was here.

Sometimes he'd hang out with Jimmy, and Jimmy wasn’t particularly thrilled with how things were going. He never really liked you, actually. 

“She’s got you chained, man,” Jimmy had said once, leaning against the rusted hood of his car, cigarette hanging from his lips like an afterthought. “You’re like her goddamn lapdog.”

Curly had just shrugged, not bothering to argue. What was there to argue about? Jimmy didn’t get it. He didn’t get how easy it was to just fall into place. Jimmy wasn’t happy—never had been. His whole life was a mess of bad decisions and worse consequences, each one taking a piece of him that he never got back.

“You don’t listen to people who aren’t where you want to be in life, right?” you’d told him once, brushing your fingers through his hair as he lay in your lap, staring at the ceiling.

Jimmy wasn’t where he wanted to be. His family wasn’t where he wanted to be. So where the fuck did he find it?

He wanted happiness. And you had it. You offered it with open arms and a steady presence, wrapped it up in quiet mornings and soft evenings where nothing felt rushed or uncertain.

It was enough, wasn’t it?

And yet, in the stillness of it all, something gnawed at him. A restless itch beneath his skin that he couldn’t quite scratch. Some nights, after you'd fallen asleep, he’d sit on the edge of the bed staring at the packed boxes still stacked neatly in the corner of the living room. He’d tell himself he’d unpack them tomorrow, that it was time to fully settle in.

But he never did.

Because some part of him knew that once they were unpacked—once everything he owned was neatly folded into the life you'd built for him—there would be no going back.

So he let them sit. Just like he let himself sit in this comfortable limbo, caught between wanting to disappear into you completely and holding on to the last shreds of himself.

You made it easy, after all. Too easy.

When you called his name from another room, he was there. When you pulled him into you, he leaned without resistance. When you told him he belonged here, he nodded without question.

But deep down, he wondered if peace was supposed to feel like this—like water slowly filling his lungs, soft and painless, but suffocating all the same.

And if it was, did it even matter?

Because here, with you, he didn’t have to fight anymore. And maybe that was enough.

Curly sat at the kitchen table, the hum of the evening blending with the quiet scrape of your fork against your plate. Dinner was simple tonight—something light and elegant, the kind of thing he never would have bothered with before you. Before this life.

He listened as you talked about your day, nodding in the right places, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. It wasn’t until you set your fork down and tilted your head that he realized you’d been watching him.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you observed, reaching across the table to take his hand. Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his knuckles. “Is something on your mind?”

Curly opened his mouth, then hesitated. What was there to say? That he felt himself disappearing piece by piece? That every time he caught his reflection, he wasn’t sure if it was him or the man you wanted him to be? He swallowed it down like everything else. You already had a lot on your plate. Pouring over work well past midnight, eating a little less. It would be selfish on his part. 

“Just tired,” he said instead.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Poor thing,” you murmured. “You work too hard.”

He didn’t work at all, not really. Not anymore. But before he could say anything, you stood, gathering the plates and carrying them to the sink. Curly moved to get up, but you waved him off with a soft laugh. “No, sit. Relax. I’ve got it.”

It was small, but it gnawed at him. He used to take pride in doing things, in providing. Now? Now he wasn’t sure what he was to you besides a presence—something to fill the empty spaces of your life.

And then, so casually it felt like an afterthought, you said it.

“By the way,” you called over your shoulder as you rinsed the dishes, “I talked to my accountant today.”

Curly blinked. “Your accountant?”

You hummed. “Mhm. I had him take a look at your accounts; just to sort things out and streamline everything. I know you don’t keep track of that stuff.”

A cold weight settled in his gut. “You… what?”

“It’s nothing serious, just linked our accounts,” you assured him, wiping your hands and turning back to him with that same patient smile. “You’ve still got access to everything. I just had him tidy a few things up—made it easier. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Curly stared at you, chest tightening. You’d touched his money. His savings. The last tangible proof that he’d built something for himself before you.

And you’d done it so casually. Like it was a given. Like it was expected.

“You—” He swallowed thickly, his voice tighter than he meant. “You had him move things around?”

You blinked at him, your expression soft but unwavering. “Yes,” you said simply. “It just made sense.”

“Made sense for who?” The words came out sharper than he intended.

You tilted your head, a small frown tugging at your lips, like you were puzzled by his reaction. “For you, of course.”

Curly searched your face, looking for... what? Some sign that you understood? That you realized how it felt? But you didn’t, did you? You thought you were helping. And maybe you were. Maybe he should feel grateful, relieved even. But instead, unease slithered through his ribs.

He cleared his throat, his voice strained. “You should’ve asked me first.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers lightly over his knuckles, soothing like always. “You’re overthinking it, love. I know finances aren’t your strong suit.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not the point.”

You exhaled, amused, and sat back down across from him. “Curly,” you said gently, your gaze unwavering, “I take care of things so you don’t have to. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. Because wasn’t it? Wasn’t this exactly what he’d thought happiness looked like? No more struggling, no more chasing after something just out of reach. Just... comfort. Stability. You.

And yet—

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “It’s just... it’s my money,” he said, quieter this time.

You took his hand again, holding it firmly. “It’s still yours,” you corrected softly. “We’re just… In this together now, yeah? All I did was link our accounts.”

He stared at you. “You didn’t think to ask me first?”

Your lips parted in a quiet sigh, as if the question itself was exhausting. “Curly,” you said, leaning forward, fingers brushing over his knuckles again, “I did it for you. This way, you don’t have to stress about budgeting things separately. It’s easier for both of us. Help me help you.”

His shoulders stiffened under your touch. “That’s not the point.”

You tilted your head, smile patient and firm. “No, the point is that I’m making things simpler, my love. You always forget to track your spending, and now you don’t have to worry about it. I’m just helping.”

He swallowed hard. “I—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about the money. It’s—”

“It’s what?” you asked with a sigh, gaze locking onto his. “Curly, I’m not controlling you. I just... connected things so it’s easier for you to access my money too. That’s what couples do, isn’t it? Do you really think I’m capable of doing something maliciously?”

He blinked, thrown off for a second. “I didn’t—”

“I know you’re not used to this kind of support,” you continued, insistent. “You’re always so independent, so determined to do things alone. But that’s not how it works anymore, right? You don’t have to handle everything yourself.”

He exhaled sharply, fingers curling into fists. “That’s not—”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Curly stared down at the table, his pulse thudding in his ears. Of course, he trusted you. You were the closest thing to stability he’d ever had. 

His mouth opened, then closed again. The words were there, but they felt weightless.

You leaned closer, resting a hand on his knee, gentle, soothing. “I just want what’s best for you.”

The warmth of your touch should have been comforting, but all it did was make him feel smaller. Like a piece of him had been quietly set aside, rearranged without his permission.

He forced a nod, unable to look at you. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” you echoed, smiling softly, pressing a kiss to his temple like it was all settled. “I knew you’d understand.”

Curly sat there long after you left the room, staring blankly at the flickering light above the table. The quiet pressed in around him, thick and suffocating.

[messypansy]

Contains: Hypnosis, manipulation, technically somno?, forced masculinization, use of the F slur

This is a ramble, not supposed to be anything too accurate or well written, so be nice, please lol

If there's a tag you think needs to be here, let me know!

Just imagine:

You're dating a guy and 6 months in, everything's going well. He's really sweet, he takes you out to dinner, buys you your favorite books and new ones you've been meaning to get to, even being able to practically read your mind the way he just knows when you're hungry or thirsty. He just seems to be such good boyfriend material.

A while after, he sees you've not been putting as much effort into looking like a guy, even going so far as to wear feminine clothes and not correcting people when they call you by she/her pronouns. You've noticed the little glint in his eyes and the mild looks of irritation, but you've never thought to bring them up.

You don't question when he tells you you've got a doctor's appointment and that he'll take you. You don't question when the doctor supplies you your first dose of testosterone, nor do you realize that's what's in the "vaccine" your boyfriend swears it is. You don't question when he needs to run by the pharmacy and comes back to the car with a bag of supplies. You're none the wiser when he gives you your following doses in your sleep, waiting until you're unconscious to inject the needle into your fat.

When your attitude doesn't change in the first few weeks, still attempting to keep a hold on your femininity despite the growth happening between your legs, he decides to take some extra measures. Now, while you're asleep, he's slipping headphones on your head, allowing subliminals to fill your mind. This seems to help, so he continues to do so, even going so far as to put you into trance while you're awake and make you forget what he would do just as you come to. He starts off easy, just reaffirming the triggers he's set and putting it in your brain that you are indeed a man, but he increases the intensity more and more every day, setting in desires to be used like a man, to be seen as a man. Unbeknownst to you, when these little thoughts creep up in your mind throughout the day, you have no clue that they're because of what he's doing.

It eventually gets to a point where he's done some convincing without influence to let him try out anal with you. Even with his less than ethical methods before, he knew it needed no convincing on your part this time, and he takes care of you so nicely, having all the supplies to properly prep you for it all. Just like everything else, you have no clue this wouldn't be the first time, not that you're aware of at least.

He slips inside you with barely any effort after some prepping, surprising even you as he starts off slow. You can't help but feel like this isn't the first time you've done this, that you two MUST have done something before. Even in your moan-filled bliss, you can't help but beg the question. His rhythm stutters for a moment, almost pausing before pretending like you didn't just ask what you asked. You insist, even stating through moans that you're pretty sure he's done something.

He grabs your throat suddenly, pounding into you ruthlessly. "Of course I did. But I'm surprised you even remember." As your eyes widen, about to argue, you barely get even a word out before he's pressing more on your arteries and making your head spin from the lack of blood flow. He growls into your ear:

"I don't want to hear a word out of that mouth about it. You may be pissed, but I had to do it. You need to start acting like a man. You lost the right to your own body when you decided that you were gonna pretend to be some fucking girl and ignore the reality in front of you."

"Now shut the fuck up and take it like a man..."

Despite the still lingering anger and shock at the revelation, the way he fucks up into you is way too much, causing that still foggy brain of yours to give in despite it all, to just let him use you like the little fag you are. He whispers one little word into your ear, and although it doesn't send you into trance, it makes what he says next all the more enticing and convincing.

"Doesn't this feel good? To be used like the stupid whore you are? To be guided like this? To be shown your place?"

It all feels so good. It feels good for him to use you. It feels good when he slips his hand around and pumps your little developing cock. It feels good to hear his praises. It feels good to be called a 'good boy', to be called a 'fag'. It's what you are, after all.

"Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum from me fucking you like a man? From me stroking your cock?"

He says through grunts, already so close himself. It's all too much, the way he fills you up so nicely and the way he praises how you give in and clench with each masculine praise. You can't help but nod violently as your moans and whines practically evolve into cries and screams of pleasure. As the feeling of release overwhelms you, your body convulses under him, the only thing to stabilize you being his hands that hold your hips so tight that the possibility of bruising is a guarantee. You shudder as he finally cums inside you, painting your ass with spurts of white.

Your pants fill the room, your boyfriend staying inside you for a while before pulling out and rolling over onto his back. He pulls you into his embrace, holding your sweaty body close while he gets his bearings.

"From now on...", he starts, his speech slow and patchy. "You're...You're gonna be...fucked exclusively like this... No using that...that useless front hole. You're gonna listen to my words, to my orders...and be the man I know you are..."

You're eyes already flitting close, you can only nod slightly in response as you fall asleep against him.

As time goes on, he forces you to continue your masculinization, having to use hypnosis and trigger words on you less and less. He has you voice train as your voice drops, has you eating more of those necessary macros and making you work out, he takes you to a barber to get a more appropriate cut compared to the shaggy layers you donned before. He's even got a surgery date for you to get those lumps off your chest so you can start wearing shirts and going shirtless without a binder. He's completely changed you for the better.

And now?...

You actually believe it.

[diniidjarin]

boss skillfully dodging my plan to quit by never being in the office. thus lowering my determination to quit too. single job offer that got back to me requiring i go b2b (bitch2broke). get back home and try to chill but the radio is running a program about my dream industry is fucked seven ways to sunday, forget even trying it loser. but hey i got a few non-work things to look forward to

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[noxtivagus]

head in hands FINAL FANTASY

[orcelito]

God, this cold weather is shredding my throat. I want it to stop being so cold 😭😭😭😭😭

[medicinemane]

I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity

Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all

And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me

It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been

But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel

...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this

One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help

Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out

I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all

...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut

Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?

I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already

...everyone means well, it's just tiring

[jackass-jones]

People in the notes have said physical therapist Akihiko and ohohoho you fools you fucking clowns you don’t even know. Imagine Shinji getting out of the coma and all the rehabilitation shit he’s gotta do all the physical therapy like you just know Akihiko is so fucking over the moon he’s done so much research he’s so excited to see Shinji have a “training regime” he infodumps about what’s happening with the muscle recovery process and what stretches work best hes just way too invested he talks over doctors and Shinji is just like “good god if you know so much why don’t you just be a physical therapist” and Akihiko’s like 😈

Akihiko becoming a cop is something that simply doesn’t happen in the coma route cuz Shinji would see that shit and be like Aki what the actual hell is wrong with you

[dizzysilhouette]

gonna work on The Exchange #2 later on. i have some more stuff i wanna explore with Daisy and Alan ^_^

edit: here

[xazse]

okay hear me out…. reverse hybrid au… with tigerhybrid!sukuna bc nobody else can handle him because he’s so aggressive and overbearing .. so reader is their last resort zoo caretaker and they’re is shocked at how it’s like reader has a leash on tigerhybrid!sukuna 😚

I’VE GOT IT?

Synopsis: You’re head of a completely different department so why are you being asked to help with an odd situation?

Warnings: Female!reader + Mean!Sukuna + cringe tropes (sorry) + Hybrid!Sukuna: ears and a tail + heat + cumming inside + doggy + NOTPROOFREAD!!! + obsessed!Sukuna

Pairings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna x female!Reader

Notes: I’m really working to improve my writing for you guys!! Esp my non-English speakers

“Miss please you know we would never beg like this if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t specialize in that field, how many times must I tell you?”

You were getting sick of these scientists coming to you more often than normal, there’s three right now begging for you to take on a case that you didn’t want to do.

“Sukuna is out of control, he’s already injured five of our best, now they refuse to work with him”

“And I should be the sixth?” You say with a quirk of your brow.

They all stop and stare at one another, you have a good ass point what makes them think that you’ll be the antidote for their beast they decided to keep.

“Like I said, my stance on this won’t change.”

Another voice in the doorway of your office speaks up: “I’ll upgrade your pay and have you transferred up.”

Your ears perk up at this offer, to go even further where you are right now means business and a fuck ton of money. On the flip side it means facing whatever they’re against but you’ve always been a little greedy for money so you oblige.

The scientists made sure to throw you in the thinnest garments: “to let him know you don’t have anything on you.” As they put it.

They also had told you no sudden movements and to talk with him in a calm manner, show him you aren’t afraid and find out what’s been making him so angry lately. Easy peasy except your life is on the line!

You disregard any negative thoughts of death and make your way into the place where they keep their hybrids, it’s like little apartments where they can do as they please in return for information on their biology, as far as you know they love it here. You’ve once met puppy!hybrids Satoru and Suguru they were very sweet men, needy but sweet.

Your first step into the apartment is met with a strong smell, a smell of something primal if that even has a smell. It’s warm.

You start poking around his place, checking his fridge and looking for anything out of the ordinary, nothing seems amiss though. It’s not until you come up to one of the doors and hear slight noises. You press your ear up closer making the noise more clearer: whining it sounds like whining.

Could he perhaps be In pain? You knock three times and announce you’re coming in. The door clicks and you start slowly pulling it open. You see the man in all his glory resting upon his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and an unreadable expression.

Sukuna is big, he’s a big man compared to all the other hybrids, he’s brimming with pure muscle. Does he workout in here? Your thoughts are interrupted by slight growling: he’s warning you. Step any close r and he will have no choice but to harm you.

You pay him no mind, instead you step fully in and start looking around without a care in the world.

“You’re making trouble- why is that?” You say while looking through his dresser.

“You’re being extremely nosy, leave before I kill you.” He threatens harshly.

“If you harm me I’ll have you sent somewhere else, I know where you come from and I’m assuming you don’t want to go back.”

The room goes eerily silent like he’s making a choice, he opens his mouth to speak but a groan accidentally slips past his lips.

Oh… the big oaf is in heat, and top scientists couldn’t tell or try to track his cycle?

“You in heat big guy?”

“No-“

“Such a liar, I’m not here to make fun of you, I’m here to make sure you get proper help.”

“The only way I’ll get proper help is if I fuck someone.” So damn blunt you think to yourself.

He continues speaking: “I think you know they won’t allow that though.”

“Would you like some toys? I can request that for you.”

“Useless.”

You let out the loudest sigh and plop down on his fluffy bed. Bending your head in his direction you see he’s not looking at your face but your body, eyes fully trained on your pert nipples because of the cold.

You allow the poor suffering hybrid to mount you, putting a good bit of his weight on your back you can feel the outline of his thick meaty cock resting near your cunt and ass.

He’s hard, fully hard and probably has been for a while: you feel almost a little bad.

Sukuna doesn’t waste anytime grinding down against you, it feels so fucking good, his cock is accepting anything even if it’s the bare minimum. Everytime he meets your ass he whines, such a needy tiger you coo.

He’s ignoring all the dirty little comments you send his way too focused on the only good sensation he’s felt for a while, his hand doesn’t compare to your rounded ass. You reach between your legs and pull his shorts down, letting his cock bob free for a minute before he’s pushing up against you again.

He’s producing so much precum that youCan feel it through your silky garments.

“Smells so good… really good.” “Mhhhphmmm-“ he’s now being open with his groans too focused on the feeling of his tip prodding your clothed pussy. His swishing tail is within your eyesight, you grab it and rub it for extra stimulation.

You help him a little bit by bouncing your ass against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your neck, you can feel how sharp his damn teeth are and pray to yourself he isn’t going to bite you: killing you in the process.

He doesn’t do any of that instead he just lightly bites, using no strength at all. While he’s busying tearing up your neck you slip your panties off, grabbing his fat length and teasing your wet hole. Just feeling it in your hand has your body burning up in arousal it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock, especially a cock his size.

You slowly start inching it in, the stretch is so damn unbearable and uncomfortable. When he feels what you’re doing he starts moving his hips already. An impatient thing such as him isn’t gonna wait. He gets about halfway in and you feel a thick liquid fill you, did this beast just cum? Already?

“Nhhhnn.. fuck-..” this doesn’t deter him because he’s sitting fully on his knees and pulling you flush against him, his entire length snuggly inside your pussy. He doesn’t wait to bounce you back on him, you can’t comprehend anything properly so shocked by how he just made you take every inch of him.

Your lashes flutter closed as he ruts into you like you’re the damn sex tox he’s been given, one he wasn’t gonna take care of properly. His hold on you is extremely tight so you can do nothing but take him fully, even when your walls threaten to constrict around him he pushes through it and keeps fucking Into you.

You allow him, allow him to thrust like a wild animal, mercilessly pulling all the way out of you just to slam back in. Drool is seeping down your neck where he’s latched on in droves. He’s far too gone, pussy has never felt this good.

By the end Sukuna is still rutting uselessly, he’s not even hard anymore he just can’t stop leaking cum nor has that good euphoric feeling stopped. He’s made a mess of your pussy, his cum and yours seeping down your thighs and onto his ruined sheets.

Hes licking at your face and you can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, this big hybrid is purring in content. Any attempt to move from under him is completely halted, he won’t let you move even an inch.

He begins sucking on your nipples, they’re definitely gonna be sore later but now it seems he just wants comfort and you fully give that to him. Rubbing his ears and whispering sweet nothings to him.

After that incident Sukuna is completely attached, he constantly whines for you to come see him including the scientists also calling for you to calm him down. He won’t let you have a moments peace.

Even when you tell him you’re extremely busy he’s having none of it, if he wants you to laze around and do nothing but rub him or praise/coddle him he completely expects it!

As his mate you’re meant to be with him all the time you should be grateful he’s even letting you leave the nest.

You were left fully shocked when he first called you his mate but the scientists explained that you were his first and now you are his last, they had all praised you because testing was made easier if you were there.

They’re all surprised to see him completely like mush under you, like one time when it was time for his blood to be drawn he made you come and sit in his lap while he had it taken. The doctors said he seemed to be completely smitten with you, in love and so possessive.

[bunny-jpeg]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3