#tw implied branding

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart, Chapter 8

18+, MDNI

Now on Ao3

All chapters

Things get explicit in this chapter. Yandere in full force.

TW dubcon, mental and emotional manipulation, mentions of past abuse, mentions of past SA.

Y/N POV

You heard Marco calling to you from the hallway. You didn’t know how he had found you, but he sounded angry. You came out of the closet and saw a cross Marco with his arms folded across his chest. You fought the urge to grovel immediately but did start pinching your fingers. You didn’t know what you did - but you’d do anything to get him to stop scowling at you.

“Y/N.”

“Hi Marco.”

“Why are you sleeping in the supply closet?”

“Oh. Um. I guess I just got sleepy and took a nap here? Sorry, it won’t happen again,” you said sheepishly.

“Wrong answer.”

“Ah, um…I don’t…I didn’t…um…” You floundered. Marco had never taken this kind of tone with you and you didn’t know what to do. You were starting to panic.

“Oh, Y/N, what are we going to do with you?” sighed Marco, putting his face in his hand and shaking it from side to side. “My brothers and I have really put ourselves out there for you. We saved you from the Marines, we brought you to our ship, we’ve helped you in so many ways. This is the thanks we get?”

“I am thankful! I really, really am! I’m so grateful for everything everyone has done.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. Why didn’t you tell me that you were having trouble sleeping? That you were sleeping in closets and cupboards? That you can’t sleep without your back to the wall? Do you think we can’t help you? That I can’t help you? That I’m not a good doctor? That I don’t care for my siblings? Is that what you think of us?”

“No! No, I just… Marco, please, I… j-just didn’t think it was import–”

“It IS important, Y/N. Why should we keep helping you if you don’t trust us?”

“I d-do trust you! I do!” you were close to crying from the tension radiating off Marco.

“I don’t know if we can continue to have someone on our ship that we can’t trust. That doesn’t trust us. I think our time together may have come to an end. I will inform Whitebeard on your behalf.” Marco turned his back to you and started to walk away.

You were bawling now, you didn’t want to leave the ship.You didn’t have anywhere else to go and if you left you’d have no one and and and…so you called out “wait, Marco!” Marco stopped, but didn’t turn towards you. You ran up to him and grabbed his hand from behind. He allowed you to take it but remained turned away from you.

“What, Y/N?”

“P-p-please, isn’t there anything I can d-do? T-t-to show that I t-trust you? I don’t wanna b-b-be k-k-kicked o-o-out, p-p-please..” you were sobbing so hard you couldn’t form words without stuttering. 

“Well,” he said, moving his head from side to side in thought “I suppose if you showed your trust in us..”

“P-p-please!”

“No more secrets, Y/N. You have to be completely honest with us.”

“O-of course, w-whatever you want to kn-know.” You were still crying but were starting to hope that Marco would forgive you.

“And since it seems you can’t take care of yourself properly, you need to surrender that task to us. You need to listen to us when we tell you what’s best for you. I’ll meet with my brothers and we can set some rules for you to follow so you can earn our trust.” You weren’t sure what that meant exactly, but you would have agreed to let him rip out and eat your still beating heart if he asked for it.

“Y-y-yes, ok, thank you M-Marco. Thank you.” You nuzzled his hand in thanks, trying to deepen your breathing.

He turned his body all the way towards you his expression softened. He cupped your face in both of his large hands. “I know you don’t mean to hurt us, Y/N. I want you to be our good girl, and I think you want that too, isn’t that right?”

You nodded your head up and down in his hands. 

“I know the perfect way you can start to earn back my trust.”

“H-how?” your crying had stopped but you were still hiccuping your words.

“Kiss.” he commanded and brought his lips crashing down on yours.

Ace POV

Ace had overheard an emotional conversation in the hallway and had cracked his door to see what was going on. He watched as Marco ordered you out of the closet and began speaking sternly to you. Ace’s eyes opened a little wider - he hadn’t known you were sleeping there. If he had found you in there, he’d have taken you straight to his bed. He decided to stay hidden and see what happened.

Listening to Marco talk to you was a masterclass in manipulation. Marco had maneuvered you so well, so easily and you hadn’t noticed a thing. Ace knew Marco wasn’t worried about your loyalty, but you sure didn’t. He had gambled on your insecurities and won the grand prize. Now they were all able to collect. Finally, they’d be able to have you in the way they had wanted. 

As he watched Marco kiss you in the moonlight and knew he’d be doing the same, and soon. You looked like a little angel, all breathless and submitting yourself willingly to Marco. He handled his growing bulge over his pants, fondling himself to your teary- eyed kiss. The scene was too hot for him to endure untouched, so he took his cock out and started slowly stroking himself from base to tip. He was leaking precum just from watching a kiss, like he was a teenager. He imagined it was himself kissing you, fondling you, getting to touch you. He pumped his cock a little bit faster as you started making small sounds from Marco’s hands traveling over your neck, shoulders, and down your front. He imagined the sounds you would make around his cock as you rode him, how he would bite your neck, suck on your nipples, give you marks to let everyone know he was there. That he would always be there. 

Y/N POV

Marco’s kiss was all encompassing. All you could think about were his lips as they expertly kissed your own. He had caught you off guard-  your mouth had been closed. He licked at the seam of your lips, wanting you to open. You opened your mouth slightly and he pushed his tongue inside. He was still holding you in place, kissing you at his pace. He was in control and was showing you what he wanted. You followed his lead, kissing him back. You wanted to show that you wanted this too, that you wanted them, that they didn’t need to get rid of you. You tried to pour all that emotion into your side of the kiss. 

When he stopped kissing your mouth and started feathering light kisses down the column of your neck. His hands were roaming all over you - your arms, neck, and starting to creep up your stomach. “Ah, Y/N, I knew you’d be worth the wait.” You couldn’t answer - your breath was coming in short gasps as his kisses trailed downwards. “Let’s go somewhere private - I wouldn’t want anyone else to enjoy the show yoi.” Marco cocked an eyebrow towards one of the open doors briefly but you didn’t see anyone.

With that, Marco threw you over his shoulder and took long strides to his room. Once in, he sat down on a loveseat and put you in his lap, facing him. “Come here, Y/N, show me how good you can be.” He began kissing you again, moving from your lips to your neck down to your collarbones. You started to let out small whimpers. You couldn’t help yourself - you knew you were incredibly wet. You started moving and grinding on Marco, hoping for some friction. 

Marco was kissing your shoulder, and had started putting his hand up the hem of your shirt, teasing your lower back with light touches. “Ah, wait. I don-” You tried to object. Kissing was one thing, but showing your back was another. No one had seen it in years, it was a source of deep shame and humiliation. You wanted to keep your shirt on for now.

“Y/N, this is the exact kind of thing we need to be working through,” Marco said with a frown. “I thought you had agreed to listen to us yoi,” he continued. He gripped you by the shoulders and stopped your movements on him. You realized belatedly you were grinding on his cock - and he was huge. There was no way it would ever fit…but you refocused back to the present. Your back? You gulped - was this what he needed from you? So he could trust you? You could do it, you thought, trying to gather your own courage. It was just skin, and he’d seen scars before.

Marco had changed the position of his hands, holding your thighs down to prohibit your rocking. “You can take it off” you said in a small voice, looking down at your lap. Marco flashed a smile at you as he raised your shirt off your body. 

You lifted your arms and Marco pulled it all the way off. He ran his hand over the middle of your back and paused. You hoped he would continue to tease and kiss you, but he just picked you up and faced you the other direction away from him so he could see your back better. He was examining it silently. You knew it had killed the feeling in the room from the way he was looking at it. He reached out a finger to touch the angry red, raised lines. He touched one and you hissed a little - they were extra sensitive lately. He just looked at you silently for a few moments. Marco didn’t say anything but sat you down next to him, off his lap.

You hung your head in shame. You couldn’t look at him. Not only had he seen your back, but you had disappointed him. He didn’t trust you. You had another crew’s logo on you. He didn’t want you anymore, he thought you were ruined. You were ruined, just like you were told. You were going to be sent back, discarded like the trash you were. You just waited for Marco to tell you to collect your things. 

‘Y/N, what is this yoi?” he said in a soft voice. He was being gentle with you, delicately touching parts of your scar that were less raised. 

“It’s old scar tissue, it’s healed now.”

“What’s it from?”

“Most of it is a branding from when I was on that pirate ship. They - they burned their jolly roger on me. Some of it is from a whipping the Marines gave me. Those are the more recent marks.”

“Why did they whip you?”

“Escape attempt.”

“Do they hurt yoi?”

All the questions were digging into your deepest sources of shame. You wanted to be strong but you started crying again.

“Y-yes. I think they don’t let me stretch my skin enough back there. It always feels tight. I’m not really sure, I try not to look at it.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m s-sorry M-m-marco. I really tr-tried to be g-good for y-you. I’m j-just r-ruined.”

“You’re not ruined, this wasn’t your fault,” he said absently as he continued gently touching your back. You couldn’t see, but you felt a pleasantly cool sensation along some of your scars. Was he trying to heal you? The flip between the harsh Marco of before to the sensual Marco to this soft Marco had you so confused. You didn’t know how he was going to take anything. You let him look in silence. He broke it by quietly asking “why did they brand you, not tattoo you?”

You gave him the answer you had been told, in a deadpan voice “Crew get tattoos, property gets branded.”

[whump-in-the-closet]

Villain Whump Thoughts

when the villain only works for supervillain because they’re terrified of them which leads to a standoff between villain and hero

“They don’t control you!”// “Yes. They do.”

Villain accepting Supervillains hold over them matter-of-factly and not even denying it when asked. What would be the point of hiding it? The bruises are obvious enough.

When villain is captured by the heroes, and already knows that supervillain won’t send anyone to rescue them

they tell the heroes all of supervillains secrets, but the heroes still won’t trust them

after all, who would trust a snitch

the heroes can’t let villain go either, because they’re a menace to society and instead keep villain around

villain is nothing more than a warning, kept chained and humiliated where everyone can see

when the villain refuses to cross a moral boundary and supervillain makes them regret it

no one else knows what happened to villain but when they appear back on the streets they’re twice as fierce and without any of their hesitant kindness

They follow supervillains orders perfectly. They’ll never mess up again. Supervillain’s mark carved into their arm to remind them of the last time they messed up.

[zip-toonz]

Tagged by @citrongarde! Hiii!

The game: On Pintrest, search [your name + core] post 6 images and tag 6 people.

I got a ton of alt outfits and miku fanart so I picked the more intersting finds.

Tagging: @lemonmatronics, @craftpunktabby, @cosmicheartz, @rocketonin, @alpacababs, @thingismyson

[wednesdaythesecond]

𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖙 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊, 𝕴'𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖝 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙

[pyrepostings]

Free Birds and Fiddlers: Dragon AU

Cw: collars, conditioned whumpee, magical brands.

~~~

Kevin paced the floor of his bedroom, tugging at his long, currently unbraided red hair, Julian sitting calmly on the edge of the bed, watching him.

"You know, if it truly still distresses you to be without the collar, you can just wear it to the meeting tomorrow."

"They already think I'm a spy, brainwashed. If I can't go one meeting without it- I can't wear it, but I have to."

"They already know you are having a tough time readjusting. It is half the reason they are visiting. I can ask them beforehand to not bring it up during the meeting?"

"But they'll still be thinking it. I won't be able to argue back. No, if they've something to say, they should say it."

The silence stretched for a moment as he continued pacing.

"You could wear the leather one?"

The leather one, tanned cowskin braided into a necklace of celtic design. Instead of the smooth, shiny, gold and emerald engraved with a master's claim, the leather circlet was simple, soft and pliable, crafted for the express purpose of not being that gold one. The only symbols were on the inside: his own name, and a calming spell etched along the right side, resting over the artery when worn.

The spell was simple, and a weak one given that it was burned into dead skin rather than that of the living. And it needed to be activated, and humans rarely could activate spells like that to their fullest potential. It might as well have been placebo. Do placebos even work when you know them to be what they are?

Placebo spell or not, the leather collar has helped. Perhaps ironically, knowing it couldn't force him to feel anything helped calm his anxiety at disobeying orders. And it definitely helped to feel something around his neck. And importantly here, it was not something he was ever forced to wear. It could be explained as a show of defiance to his deceased master, not a reluctance to disobey. It was made to honor his own culture, not the dragon lord's.

He stopped pacing. "I could wear the leather one."

Kevin pulled it out from the bedside table and sat next to Julian on the bed. He wrapped it around his wrist, spell side out over the pulse point in his wrist, and traced it, activating the spell. He felt the magic flow from him, wrap around the cord, and flow back in, slower, steadier. A near infinite loop when done right.

"Do you feel better?"

Kevin nodded, "Yeah. I'll wear this one tomorrow."

Julian smiled softly as he brushed a strand of hair out of Kevin's face. "Good. Do you know how you want your hair done? I can braid it straight down for you, like how the cooks have."

"I'd like that."

[lovesickseraph]

came back to spend time over here && oml the amount of “fashion jirais” that r trying to tell ppl “u have to have an outfit to belong” r so fucking stupid

it’s almost like the subcul isn’t actually ab fashion && is focused on the mentally ill teens/adults that r getting emotions out w sh or offing themselves on the streets, using drugs && alcohol, so many other things

the subcul isn’t a fashion fest lmao

but the second u call them out they get pissy bcuz they’re wrong && feel better than someone else who is dealing w mental health struggles

“fashion jirais” r so annoying, go back to twt

if anything is mental health based then twt shitheads always try to “cute-ify” it bcuz u can’t have shit for mental health advocacy, u “have to be normal”

it’s annoying

[theokusgallery]

Sunny's friend goes to Nick's apartment on their behalf and discovers some sus things such as furnitures stained with blood and various utensils™ for marking purposes™ and all of the cameras and a hardware full of romantic videos

They're horrified, they're about to take pictures but then, he feels a hand getting placed on their shoulder

It's Nick.

...But maybe Nick is a cleaning maniac? I don't really know, I think he would? I love when "villain" characters are cleaning maniacs, like they're obsessed for order and control. Mmh.

Anyways I was debating whether or not I post it on anon fjekdbdkdnhe

Nick isn't a clean freak but he is very careful about leaving anything incriminating lying around. Also, blood? They're not doing that casually in the living room, buddy, my man has standards.

(The standards being that if Sunny gets an infection and they have to go to a medical professional about it, Sunny's scars will become very obvious, very quickly.)

[bb-drayster]

So you're gonna force drayton into an unhealthy space where he wants to kill himself, just like drayden? I guess it runs in the family.

NO!! STOP!! DRAY’S NOT!! he. he promised me he wouldn’t. try anything like that ever again.

-👑

[wootzietoozee]

so you know the correlation between former child stars and drug abuse

[oceanxveiined]

Special Dish: Sea God’s Catch

Base: Sashimi platter

❛❛ The fish and garnishes seem oddly cut, but nonetheless the meat is chilled, tender, and its fragrance holds a sweet zest to it and an odd hint of spice from the side made to go with it. With Danae’s usual lack of culinary skills, it seems she must have put lots of practice into this. And been a bit overeager in her efforts, the overwhelmingly hearty portion considered. Your expression seems to fluster her. “What?! A proper meal’s good to keep up your strength! So eat up! Wh–you want to share it?! I...ugh, fine, I’ll help you finish– ❜❜

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Pleasure in Pain (AU)

To be fair, I really haven’t written anything in a hot minute, but I blame school for being so damn stressful. So here’s a snippet of Cordova and Rojan in an AU where a forge master took on an apprentice. They’re still going through training.

Contents: TW branding/ burning mentioned, TW torture mentioned, TW burn scars mentioned, begging, merciful Whumper, pet Whumpee, Forge master Whumper, Apprentice Whumpee.

+++

“N-no no no no p-ple— hiccup… p-p-please. N-not today I-I, I’ve been g-good. I p-promise I’ve been good.”

Rojan looming over the shivering body of Cordova curled up in the corner of the large room. The heat from the forge radiating in the room. Making Cordova’s tears mix with his sweat that glistened on his bare body. A pathetic sight of begging. Rojan couldn’t ask for a better way to start his morning.

Cordova flinches and whines breathily when a calloused hand runs through their tangled and dirty hair. It had been months of training, setbacks, and a bit of manipulation. Though Rojan knew in the end that they could make this once bold and strong willed person crumble to a shell of their former self.

“What gives you the right to decide whether you’ve been good or not?”

Fresh tears pooled in the sniveling figure trembling at their feet. The fear in his eyes when he grew so quick to believe he made a mistake in his choice of words, as if it was an act of treason that deserved death. The rough hand grips his hair only in warning before loosening and slipping from his curls.

“Why don’t we let the forge decide whether you’ve been good today, as you so claim.”

The thought of struggling crossing the Cordova’s mind, as it has countless times. He knew where this led to and every time felt like the last time he would be able to handle it. Throat thick with saliva, tears streaking through the soot on his cheeks, a dull hope flickering like a dying flame in a storm.

Rojan turned their back and walked to the forge. Grabbing a fire poker that was left to heat up prior. A bright red hue at the tip of the metal. Cordova could feel the scars on their skin heat up as if he were being engraved for the first time.

Rojan softly humming to themselves a tune he had sung since the very first day while using pliers to bend and shape the metal into the perfect sharpness. To his surprise, a feeling of weak and trembly arms wrapped from behind him. Soft hands trying their best to cling onto their shirt. A gentle press of a forehead on their back. A new development.

“… please. Whatever I’ve— sniffle… done wrong today. M’s-so sorry. I’m t-trying to be g-good for y-you, but I don’t know what I did wrong and I know that’s not a good answer, b-but… p-please give me a chance to correct it.”

Such a quiet and delicate voice. One that a strong enough breeze could blow away. Rojan wasn’t a breeze, he was a hurricane, but perhaps just for today he could relax and be a simple breeze. The fire poker goes back to cook in the blazing flames. Cordova tenses when his captor turns around and faces him. Making his gaze turn down to the floor as he took his arms off of them. Another mistake, another punishment, another scar, another meal lost, anoth—

“Your mistake today was not greeting me when I arrived today.”

Rojan’s arms wrapped around the confused and timid person who was at eye level to his chest. A gentle embrace that he’s never blessed his pet with. He could practically feel their heart pounding in their chest and the subtle tremble in their body from the unfamiliar yet comforting touch.

“I’ll let it slide today. Only because I believe you’ve certainly learned some manners and you’ve been working very hard to please me as of late. Just a simple warning then, always greet me when I come in. Okay, little flame?”

The relief the younger man felt was immense. When had his master become so merciful? No, he wouldn’t question it. It was a blessing he needed and he wouldn’t take it for granted. He would behave better than he ever has before and prove to his master that he deserves days like this more often. He could hardly control the way his body naturally clung onto his master. How his face buried into the rugged man’s broad chest while stray tears fell onto his shirt. Soft, relatively quiet sniffles leaving him while Rojan rubbed his back in circular motions.

“You’re being extra good today. Perhaps this warrants a reward. How does a bath sound, my little apprentice?”

+++

Date: May 23, 2024

Taglist: @turn-the-tables-on-them

If you're reading this, you're obligated to whump an OC/blorbo today.

Reblog to make others whump their OCs/blorbos!

[dice-boy]

while I'm on the topic of books, I am extremely normal about hell followed with us

[veshialles]

free love

Clutching cloying claws Wrap around her throat And settling on the pulse they dig, Carving out the crooked lumps of lies That folk of ages past had sold her,

Telling that love should be kept as secrets and shared as pairs of gloves. Such monogamous nonsense, she prefers to think, Believing a kinder world can be sown when love is shared as a banquet, as a feast. Where all who gather are welcomed into open arms and fed in kind.

Though eager to share this glow inside with brighter souls around her She recalls the wandering child turned away at every circle, A bundle of trusted cares that broke against the concrete floor, Stains of tears and sweat where no one dared to look.

Separated from the herd and begging to be set on the path of her peers, To be heard and be seen and be held as her truest self, Yet fearing that the bloom growing round her heart must carry only thorns. Patterns and cycles old and tired as time itself swirling in her mind.

The girl who was never allowed to be, greeted as an old friend, In pain. Unable to close the wound of the life she'd never lived, She wails.

She takes her by the hand and tells her you don't have to be that way anymore. That isn't who you are destined to be. Not always. Not forever. You are safe here, and you are cared for. And you are loved so, so dearly.

Her eyes are torn from the soiled green fouton, Pulled away from a thousand painful conversations, Condemning the memory of betrayals past to the pyre.

And although the stillness takes her mind and nestles in her lungs, Some lingering ache yet whispers "What if you were never meant to be free?"

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 29 — DUBCON. dabi x f!hero!reader ﾉ tw dark content: dubcon- very heavy dubcon to be safe, mentions of murder, brief mention of being his pet, fear play, reader has a support quirk that is not fit for fighting alone, forced orgasm, temperature play- kind of, hints of manipulation + corruption

what happens when your curiosity takes you to the league of villains’ hideout? luckily enough, there’s only one of them there to greet you— and the world seems kind enough to let you off with a sweet deal. fuck him just once to guarantee his silence, or so you thought.

The day you held your hero ID in your hands for the very first time also happened to be your first instance of being told to stay far away from the League of Villains.

You only vaguely remember the reasoning being that they were too dangerous for a support like yourself (especially one with zero experience under their belt) along with another thing that went in one ear and straight out the other.

A part of you has always wondered why the heroes you worked under had gone through so much trouble to ensure you stay back. Keep you hidden from the spotlight, perhaps- because how could you improve if you were always being protected? It was frustrating to see everyone besides yourself on the news.

Ironically, it’s the same reason why you’ve never been faced with the realization of how weak you really are until your head is being pressed into a table, arms easily held tight behind your back- and an infamous villain right behind you. A real one.

Not a simulation today- not one monitor in sight.

“Shigaraki would have loved to meet you,” his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel danger- a concept someone like you is entirely unfamiliar with. “He’s always had a thing for types like you.”

He pushes back inside- this time slowly, as if trying to brand the moment deep into your mind, and you only manage to weakly whimper when his hands tighten around your wrists, the heat emitting from his body acting as a cruel reminder that he has the power to kill- and you don’t.

“N-no,” the desperation in your voice is painfully obvious, “not him, okay? That wasn’t part of the deal..!” You can feel your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of meeting this man’s leader, breathing short and labored as different images flash across your mind as to what being ‘his type’ would imply.

You feel him throb inside you, and a whimper slips out.

“Ah, of course,” his hands land on your hips before he holds you still, letting himself push deeper inside you until you’re stuffed to brim- full of him. “I just wonder about what would happen to that fragile body of yours.”

“Just think about it…”

You think your body definitely shouldn’t be reacting like this. Underneath the trembling and shivering- your cunt flutters around him. Eagerly and hungrily, as if it’s been waiting for someone like him for years.

“Or… actually, how about this, hero?” He grunts- rougher now, pace picking up enough to make you gasp and lock up underneath him. “Forget the deal. Pay me a visit every week, and the League will never hear about you. How about it?”

“B-but—” You halt as soon as you feel his palms heat up against your skin.

“We both know that muscle-head would have a field day with you.” You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your temples, clammy hands struggling to keep your grip on the table. Your whole body feels numb- disobedient, but he feels good.

Too good for you to register exactly why your core suddenly feels so tight at the suggestion. “And if I remember, Compress likes types like you too. That guy’s got a mean streak,” Dabi leans to press his chest against yours- cold staples making you gasp, and he whispers against your neck, “he’d break you, you know.”

Your eyes widen- knees locking up, and your heartbeat rises to pound in your ears. “P-please— please slow down—”

He ignores you, only giving you a laugh in response. “What a pitiful state you’d be in. Think about it. I’ve been pretty nice, haven’t I?”

“W-wait!” You’re desperate now, reaching back to push at his hips and rising onto your toes to escape him. “I feel— feel weird—”

Something inside him seems to snap at this. You’re yelping as soon as your head is back on the table the next second- big hand roughly pushing you down and you sob. “What a hero you are,” he’s laughing loudly now, “cumming and crying on some League dick. Where are those pathetic bodyguards of yours now?”

You open your mouth to protest, but he moves to clamp his palm over it- roughly pulling you back in one swift motion until you’re flush against his chest. “Those ones drooling over you? How about I just kill them so you don’t have anywhere left to go? I’ll take you in as my pet,” you feel him smile against your neck- sick and twisted, and your cunt only clenches in response. “Be a good little hero and cum if you agree.”

Your eyes shoot open the same time he slams against a deep part inside you, body betraying every single shred of morality you have left when you cum, hard. It takes you by force, leaving no chance for it to go unnoticed by him when you’re clenching, shaking, and dripping underneath him like this. He has the heart to let go of you, let your weak body collapse onto the table beneath you as your chest heaves up and down for air, tears brimming your eyes and he only throbs inside you once more, hungry for more.

“Then it’s a deal.” His hands run up your sides, content with the way you shiver and lean into his touch. “A good choice, hero.”

[kurokawaia]

FIRST TIME 彡 Izana Kurokawa

WC 500+ | !! MDNI !! | TW/CW: nsfw, x fem reader, tenjiku! izana, smut, piv, missionary, thoughts about - rough sex/ doggystyle, marking, breeding (not with the intent for pregnancy) biting, your both first times with eachother (can be implied as virgins, up to you)

m.list | tokyo revengers m.list

The first time Izana and you had sex was the most mind blowing experience you have ever had. He had made sure you were all prepped for him, eating you out with his tongue, fingers nudged all deep into your soaked cunt, prodded right up against your soft spot.

This was before he had you moaning and whimpering tremendously under him while his thick and heavy cock was tucked all up in your gummy walls, your back arching heavily into him. As your cunt sucked him in while in missionary his thoughts were scattered to everything but missionary.

All Izana could think about was making sure he didn't flip you over on your knees, and pushing your upper back into the bed, to see your breasts splayed. Most of all, having your back in the meanest, painful arch so he can watch your dripping pussy swallow up his dick.

Izana wanted to pin your arms above your head while his would grip the fat of your hips as he slams into you, but he couldn't, he had to make sure your first with him wouldn't scare you off or hurt you too much.

But god... all he wanted to hear and see were your hot, fat tears running down your flushed cheeks as moans and gasps slip out of your swollen lips. Izana wanted to feel your thighs trembling as he pounds into you from behind, watching the cum form a foamy ring around the base of his cock.

Don't even get him started on how much he wanted to cum inside you for the first time, but he couldn't, he promised you he would never do so unless you wanted him to. He'd watch your hand s trying to pull themselves out of his iron grip but you couldn't, he wants you like this so you'll have to accept your fate, but as much as the roughness he was giving you...

you will love every single fucking second of it.

You cunt flutters and clenches at his cock so nicely it's hard for him to not imagine the fat globs of cum dripping out your folds, leaking down your thighs, his cum branding your pussy as his while he watching your hole gape as the both of you finish.

And the aftermath of all his sucks and bites from the back of your neck to your shoulders and upper back. Fuck, that's what he'd think. Izana goes feral for marking you, showing everyone that your his and his alone. A possessive man is what he is.

Yeah... that's what he was thinking during your first time... good thing there's another...

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

[jo-com]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mine

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: He's yours, and you're his. That's how it should be.

Tw: DARK, implied smut, obsession, manipulation, possessive behavior, branding, angst, jealous charles, some grammatical error, not proofread, google translated french cause i can't speak french and sorry if i wrote it wrong i just started writing again so idk if this is good or not.

words: 1.1k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist (Part 2)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

From the start, Charles was nothing more than amazing—he would give you endless adoration and assurance, and overall was the perfect boyfriend. He would worship you like you were some kind of goddess—well,  in his eyes, you were. 

But Over time, his once pure love became a crazy obsession.

The need to always be by your side and not let any other guys come closer to you, talk to you, or even breathe the same air as you intoxicated his mind and clouded his judgment.

And you start to see changes that would never occur in the past—changes that weren't good. Like that time when you and Carlos were just casually talking and catching up—that sight alone was enough to make his once-puppy dog eyes become piercing ones. Burning a hole in both the backs of your heads, from across the room you could see how tensed he was, his jaws clenched and his hands gripped the seat making the texture of the seat all crinkly.

At that time you only shook it off as a "concerned gesture" and never said anything about it to him.

But then it was constantly happening; he would always get riled up whenever someone would just approach you, whether it was a girl, boy, kid, or even animals; he was getting jealous over almost everything. 

You started to worry that things would get even more complicated as they continued. So you stood your ground and got up the courage to voice your concern to him. 

...

"Charlie?" you said softly, entering the room, where he was reading. Your eyes scanned around the room then stopped when you spotted his figure.

There he was, sitting by the fireside with a book in his right hand and the other resting on the armrest. He looked like one of those guys that were sculptured to perfection, but you knew that, underneath that godlike demeanor was one possessive beast that was hard to tame.

Hearing your voice, Charles looked up from your direction and immediately lit up. "Oui? Mon chéri," he responded with his thick French accent. 

You smiled half-heartedly and slowly walked to where he sat. From your action, he could tell that something was bothering you. 

His face scrunched up with a frown as he stared intently at you as you sat down on one of the armrests. 

"Is there something bothering you, Mon cœur?" he asked, lowering down the book he was reading and then slowly snaked up his free hand to rest on your waist.

You let out a deep sigh before answering, "You'll tell me when something's up right?"

He didn’t answer but just tilted his head and stared at you blankly. At that moment there were many questions running through his mind, but one particular thought stood out: Why would you ask something out of the blue when everything has been perfect? not unless someone put thoughts into that pretty little naive head of yours. 

He let out a low chuckle—the grip on your waist tightened as he sucked out a breath—your eyes met his. Seeing the lack of emotion as he stared back at you, sent shivers down your spine, and what scared you even more was when he gave you a calm but menacing smile.

"What makes you think that there's a problem sweetheart?"

You bit your lower lip, holding back the urge to just blurt out your thoughts.

That small gesture was not left unnoticed by Charles. He raised his other hand and touched your lower lip, softly grazing his thumb to where you sunk your teeth. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Mon cœur? he assured.

His expression didn't change; the loving eyes that you once knew were now an emotionless void. With that look, you knew he was getting impatient the longer you stayed silent.

Breaking the silence, you slowly nodded your head and smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know baby, it’s just that you’ve been off lately and you get so riled up easily, mon amour—I know that you mean no harm, but it’s just too much and i-"

“Do you think I like being that way? ”Charles cuts you off.

He gazed at you—eyes filled with rage from what you just said. You squeaked at his burning glare and were quick to look away. The hand that used to rest in your waist was now at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with frustration. 

"You know i wouldn't be that way if not for you, y/n. I am just keeping you safe from all those disgusting men at the paddock, tu ne sais pas de quoi ils sont capables y/n (you don't know what they are capable of)."

You kept your head down and stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything further that might ignite more of his anger. 

Charles stared at your weak state and sighed heavily. 

He stood up, standing in front of you. His hands are cupping both your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. Charles rubbed your rosy cheeks soothingly, making you lean in on his touch.

"Everything I do is for you, mon chéri, okay?"

You looked at him through your eyelashes and smiled. Charles just wants you to be safe and there's nothing wrong with it, maybe your just overthinking it?.

Charles smiled and kissed your temple; hugging you close to him as if you'd leave once he let's go.

Only a fool would believe that Charles's "just wants you to be safe".

Y/n was a fool

...

Your body jolted at the sensation, your hand moving to your mouth as you bit down the urge to moan out loud.

The two of you were inside a closet room in the pit. Charles decided to pull this stunt the moment he laid eyes on you and Max talking. Like usual, he got riled up and dragged you somewhere secluded to "teach you a lesson".

Tears swell up your eyes, making your vision go blurry. Your other hand was pushing his head away and attempting to stop him from diving into your cunt and eating it like there was no tomorrow. 

"Stop," Charles hissed, grabbing both your wrist and pinning it above your head—restricting your movements.

"What did i tell you about talking to others?"

You gulped down the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I am sorry, mon amour" your eyes pleading for him to stop.

Charles scoffed, gripping your jaw tightly. "espèce de salope (you slut), you just want everyone's attention, don't you?"

"Charlie, no, it's not like that," you begged, your voice shaking as his grip on your jaw tightened.

"Oh, I'll give you attention alright, Chienne (bitch)," he cussed, his accent making his aura more frightening.

...

You lay emotionless on the table, tears falling down your face—your clothes on the ground, your hair a mess, and your body filled with his markings.

In the corner of the room, Charles was fixing his clothes. Acting as if nothing had happened. 

He then went over to you and pulled your body towards him, crassing your hair and kissing your temple. "Je t'aime tellement mon amour."

...

Should i make a part 2?? Btw hope you like this idk if i did it okay i just wanted to write again and like always my request are open!!