#you don't realize how out of it you are until you're back in it man

[meo-eiru]

Day 3 of Character Trivia Night!

For tonight we have Lavi

Lavi is the son of two high ranking demons

Beauty and power makes you attractive to other demons, so Lavi who had both right from birth was spoiled like no other his whole life

Due to his power and rank it's really hard to summon him so when you did it he assumed you went out of your way to do it and was targeting him specifically

His ideal partner is someone who does what he says and spoils him, if you don't fit that description he'll forcefully make you fit the mold

He likes to stay up late and laze around in bed until lunch time, he'll also force you to follow the same schedule as well

Out of all the boys he's the most likely to visibly get angry at you and take it out on you physically

A lot of stuff makes him angry but there are levels to it and each level brings out a different type of tantum

Low level ones are not including him in something you're doing, not watching the show he wanted to watch, complimenting animals and/or inanimate objects when he's right there, not kissing him as soon as you wake up etc. These don't cause big outbursts but will cause him to act extra needy

Mid level ones are going out without him, forcing him to wear something he doesn't like, not praising him properly, being in a room with other men, not having sex with him as soon as he shows signs of wanting it, not responding when he's talking to you etc. These ones will cause bigger outbursts, often public. He'll be crying, screaming and stomping his feet. He might pull your clothes or hair or physically attack someone near you

High level ones are actually sleeping with someone else, actively ignoring him to pay attention to someone else, badmouthing and/or insulting him, attempting or managing to summon another demon, attempting to exorcise him and/or physically hurting him with holy items etc. With these he'll be mad. It's pretty much over for everyone around. If the offense is tied to someone else like a man you were with or a demon you summoned he'll personally make their face unrecognizable, drag their bloodied body around in hell and hang it on a high spot to set an example. When it comes to you he won't be screaming like his normal tantrums, he'll just grab you by your hair and drag you to a bedroom. If you try to protest he'll pierce your skin with his nails deep and leave bleeding scratch marks to make sure you remember what he'll do to you forever. He might also dig his heels into your skin depending on how much you're fighting back.

He can burn others, charm them or suck out their life energy. He's small but does have inhumane strength and speed

His blood can work as a light aphrodisiac but is addictive

No matter what type of personality you have he'll force you to be on top of him during sex

He really likes it when you mark his skin and if it's for sex you're allowed to choke him too. The next day he'll run out half naked just to make the people around see the marks

Once you tried going to work/school while he was still asleep but he unfortunately raided the building as soon as he realized you were gone and threw the desks around until you let him sit on your lap as you worked

His wings and tail can be quite sensitive

He likes to wrap the tail around your leg while you two are having sex and squeeze it hard

He likes being manhandled if it's for foreplay

He wants you to spoil him and buy him all the clothes and accessories he wants and hasn't asked for yet, he doesn't really care if you end up in debt or something, he can always just drag your soul down to hell with him

But he lowkey enjoys watching you struggle to take care of him

He doesn't need to eat but he loves anything sweet, if a normal human tried eating the desserts he eats on a daily basis they'd die from sugar overdose

He loves to publicly shame anyone who shows interest in him while he's already with you and expects you to do the same

His skin is completely spotless, not a single scar which is something to proud of as a demon. It's one of the reasons why he exposes so much skin

[fluffmonger]

So, in my experience growing up as a deeply curious child in an Evangelical (tm) church..... We *did* read the Bible, we had Sunday school, and Bible studies, all kinds of things. My church used the New International Version as a standard, which keeps some of the poetics of King James, but is a lot clearer and cleaner to read, more modern English. Reading the Bible wasn't the issue at hand.

What we weren't taught was how to interpret the Bible in Context, as a document that was written by historic humans in historic societies and cultures, across several hundred years. There's... Depending on the church, and pastor or Bible study, you may get some emphasis on the difference between the gospels and the letters, or a rundown of the "parts" of the old testament ... But that's usually it. There's no digging into it, and absolutely no questioning. There's very little, if any, acknowledgement that it is in fact, a bunch of separate texts all compiled by a small group of Christians, decades or more after the death of Jesus. To many Christians, I'd wager it feels like the Bible just appeared fully formed out of the air one day, as their holy book. And of course you can't question it, it's *the word of God* so it has to be correct and right, and if you question you're Doubting and not Having Faith (etc).

I hadn't connected the fact that many of the writings of Paul, and John the Revelator were done in the Reign of Emperor Nero until recently, when my classicist partner saw the dates and went "wait what". And if you know anything about Nero well..... Is it any wonder that Paul might have some Concerns about things like morality, and public display of faith and other things? And again! I'm someone who was asking questions and such, all the time, even back then. I was deeply nerdy about it and trying to read it like I read in English class. This made me..... Unpopular. And also felt kind of blasphemous? Like, I always felt odd about that approach while I was in the middle of it because it was *not* standard.

Likewise, a lot of the old testament gets written off as "a collection of stories" and treated more like.... Parables or fables?? Instead of a written collection of Jewish oral history about their history, laws, traditions, and culture. It's all set vaugely "in the past, in Bible times" without any rooting to real history or landscapes or cultures. And of course, because the Bible is all that matters, most Protestants and evangelicals don't think at all about any of the scholarship that goes back millennia on any part of it, the writings of Rabis and later on Christian scholars. The Bible as I was taught, wasn't a living document or a record, it wasn't something to be debated about or argued with, or even questioned, no matter how weird it outdated it seemed. It was *law*, ironclad, and to the claims of many, perfect as is (despite being a work in translation with a lot of nuance and no understanding of translators bias or how a translation should work).

It's.... Pretty fucking dire, and horrific, especially to me now, because the things I've learned about the time periods that the Bible is from? Are actually fascinating, and make it *so* much richer as a text! And then understanding the world of early Christianity, how it became what it is today, how those beliefs and practices became established.... Man, it's fascinating. But again, there's this culture of "Christianity has always been like this and will always be like this" that's very present in those spaces that make it really hard to gain sight of it all.

And... Of course at the end of the day.... The reason people like me didn't realize some of this, is because we weren't told. We werent given the tools to ask the questions we needed to. You can't explore what you don't even know exists, and when you're just told that we don't associate with "those people" and are discouraged from thinking about other faiths except to convert them..... Well.

So yeah. It's not (just) that people don't have reading comprehension.... It's also that they quite literally arent taught the context and origins of their faith for.... Reasons. Also, American Christianity has always just been... Very extreme. Probably bc of the puritans but hey.

Since posting that "how many mass graves and extinct cultures" post last month, I've had multiple Christians in the notes whining that there isn't a "specific instruction of belief that Christianity needs to wipe out every other religion in the world" in Christianity's teachings, and that it's all just The Church/King James/etc.

And every time, I point to the literal text of the passages of The Great Commission.

And nearly every time, that shuts them up; the only time it didn't, it was to engage in some disgusting semantical goalpost moving.

But it's like...

Why do Christians not know the content of their own texts? Is your faith really so tribalistic and totemic around the concept of "Jesus" that you all don't bother to actually read the religious texts?

It feels like it must be--I've heard of too many instances of Christians walking out of readings of The Sermon On The Mount because they think it's "liberal nonsense" and the like, but I just find it baffling and more than a little sad that I, a Jew, apparently knows the New Testament's text better than the people who swear by it and ostensibly believe and follow it.

[kekewrites]

LADS Caleb x pervert!reader

Tw: just reader being perverted and gross, reader is going through it, reader being nasty, weird thoughts, horny thoughts, tension

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Being a high schooler and entering a new stage in life where your hormones goes rampant, making you more aware of the opposite gender. It doesn't help how you're currently living with someone so handsome, caring, kind... and so... manly.

Wait- you shouldn't think about your childhood friend like that!

You didn't know when it started. It just happened one morning when you came to the kitchen to eat breakfast, his back seems broader than usual, his tank top showing off his big juicy biceps, and his tall frame-

"Oh, you're awake pipsqueak? Why are you standing there?"

His voice snap you out of your thoughts, shaking your head to rid of them before settling down on the chair. Trying to act normal and totally not conscious of him, you grumble how cold it was in the morning.

Caleb's eyes swept over your form appraisingly, a flicker of something unreadable sparking in their purple depths as they lingered perhaps a moment too long. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric of his tank top stretching taut against his biceps.

Damn...

Something in your demeanor struck Caleb as... different. A faint blush colored your cheeks, and you seemed to avoid his gaze. He quirked an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Cold, huh? Well, why don't ya come over here and let me warm ya up then, short stack," he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately—though his touch lingered perhaps a heartbeat longer than usual. 

Why does his hand feel bigger than usual? Or were they always that big?

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Staring at the toothbrush innocently sitting in the cup along with her own. The blue toothbrush and her pink one beside each other, just like those married couple have. The blue toothbrush that had been inside Caleb's mouth. The blue toothbrush that soaks up his saliva mixing with toothpaste.

Caleb's saliva...

I wonder how it taste like?

Your mind snapped as you stare at the blue toothbrush in your hand, your subconscious already grabbed the toothbrush now currently sitting in your hand.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

Nervously gulping, you opened your mouth ready to use his toothbrush not until, the person you're currently crazy about walks in, making you freeze on the spot.

"Hey, did you see where I put my notebook? Huh? Is that my toothbrush?"

Heart pounding, you quickly switch the toothbrushes, your face burning with embarrassment as you turn to face Caleb. You try to keep your voice steady, but it comes out in a panicked squeak.

"N-no, of course not! I mean, I was just… I got confused and grabbed your toothbrush by mistake." You let out a nervous, slightly manic laugh. "You know how much of a ditz I can be in the mornings!"

You turn away, hiding your flushed face from sight as you begin scrubbing your teeth with fervor, hoping Caleb didn't notice the way your hands shook slightly.

He raised an eyebrow, "Ok? So, have you seen my notebook?"

Pausing your toothbrushing to glare at Caleb's reflection in the mirror, you huff in annoyance, "No! I didn't see your stupid notebook."

That was close...

Thinking about a pervert!reader, being extra moody and defensive when you're around him. Totally not because you're starting to see him as a man. Totally not because you're starting to realize how attractive he is.

Starting to feel guilty about imagining some inappropriate thoughts just be staring at him. It would be just a normal hangouts with him, eating popsicle stick with him. Your eyes darting at the way he licks the popsicle, his adam's apple bopping down.

"What's up?"

You froze as you realized Caleb had caught you staring.

"N-no, it's nothing!" you stammered, tearing your gaze away. you could feel the heat rising in your skin.

You fidgeted in your seat, suddenly hyperaware of every little detail—the way his tongue flicked out to catch a drip of melting ice, the flex of his broad shoulders as he raised the treat to his lips once more.

Why is he doing that?!

"It's just... it's cold in here, that's all," you avoided his probing gaze, staring down at the half-eaten popsicle stick in your own hand. You swallowed hard past the lump forming in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Why am I always having those thoughts? I don't wanna be a creep!

Caleb's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied your face, not entirely convinced by your flimsy excuse. The blush staining your cheeks and the way you couldn't quite meet his gaze spoke volumes.

Thinking about a self-aware!caleb, who knows the effect he has on you. His hidden smirk every time he knows what you're thinking about.

Caleb sits across from you, his expression unreadable, eyes shadowed by something you can’t quite place. You tell yourself it’s just your imagination, that the way his gaze lingers is nothing more than coincidence. That the way he angles his body ever so slightly toward you isn’t deliberate.

You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily he manages to throw you off balance. The way his voice lingers in your mind even after the conversation has ended. The way his presence alone feels like an invisible tether, pulling your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to resist.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything.

Just sits there. Watching.

You convince yourself he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to his lips when he speaks, the way you fidget under his gaze. You tell yourself he isn’t aware of how your pulse betrays you when he leans in just a fraction too close.

But then, just for a split second, there it is. A barely, there shift in his expression, a flicker of amusement, gone before you can catch it.

You don’t notice the smirk he hides behind his next words. You don’t realize that every stolen glance, every shaky breath, every fleeting moment of hesitation and he’s seen it all. And worse?

He knows exactly what it means.

And he's enjoying it.

[rabbitinashell]

Ladies and gentlewomen, boothill.

Art by @/Kinee_e on X

Boothill in the Sheets: Wild, Unpredictable, and Completely Addictive

Boothill is a gunslinger, a wanderer, and a man who plays by his own rules - and that applies to everything he does, including the way he handles you in bed.

He's got that Southern charm, a cocky smirk, and a devil-may-care attitude - but don't be fooled. When it comes down to it, he takes what he wants, and he does it with reckless, intoxicating passion.

1. Rough, Wild, and Unapologetic

Boothill is the definition of raw, unfiltered dominance-he doesn't hold back, and he sure as hell doesn't do slow and tender.

• Expect reckless hands, bruising kisses, and being pinned down before you even realize what's happening

• "You look real pretty beggin' like that. Keep goin'."

2. The Perfect Mix of Cocky & Dangerous

• That self-assured smirk never leaves his face - he knows exactly how good he is, and he'll make sure you do too.

• He's the type to tease you mercilessly just to hear you whine and squirm beneath him.

• "C'mon, sugar, use your words. What's the matter? Too wrecked to think?"

3. No Hesitation, No Mercy

• Boothill doesn't do hesitation - once he sets his sights on you, you're his - plain and simple.

• He moves fast, hard, and relentless, making sure you're completely ruined before he's even close to done.

• Expect taunting whispers, rough hands, and a pace that leaves no room for catching your breath.

4. Stamina & Endurance That'Il Break You

● That man's a fighter, a cowboy, a survivor - he doesn't tire easily, and he sure as hell isn't stopping until he sees you fall apart completely.

• "Aw, sugar, already tappin' out? That's a damn shame. I was just gettin' started."

• Once is never enough - he'll have you again and again, and again, until you're too weak to even move.

5. Unpredictable & Unhinged

• Boothill isn't just dominant - he's chaotic, meaning you never know what he's gonna do next.

• One second, he's biting your neck, hands gripping your hips rough enough to bruise - the next, he's pulling back, smirking down at you, daring you to beg for more.

• "Tell me how bad you want it, darlin' Maybe I'Il be nice."

Bonus: Kinks & Preferences

• Brat-Taming & Power Play - He loves a challenge - the more you fight back, the rougher he gets.

• Dirty Talk, Degradation, and Praise - Expect a lot of "good girl," "that's my girl," and "look at you, fallin' apart for me."

• Biting & Bruising - He leaves marks everywhere - because if you're his, the world's gonna know it.

• Manhandling & Control- He can easily overpower you, holding you down and taking his time watching you struggle.

• Teasing & Edging - Just to make you squirm, he'll drag things out, watching with that cocky grin as you beg him to just give in already.

6. Aftercare: Rough Exterior, Soft Core

• He's not the type to be openly soft, but his aftercare is unspoken and deeply sincere.

• He'll run a hand through your hair, lazily tracing circles on your skin, acting like he doesn't care - but he does.

• "Rest up, sugar. You're gonna need it."

Final Verdict: A Wild Ride You'll Never Forget

Boothill is reckless, cocky, and completely unrelenting - the kind of lover who'll wreck you, laugh about it, and then do it all over again.

To be wanted by him is to be caught in a wildfire - dangerous, consuming, and impossible to resist.

[magma-frog0]

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader Smut

Warnings: P in V, oral fem receiving, pheromone perfume, Miguel has sensitive senses, raw (wrap it b4 you tap it), semi plot with porn

Your best friend works in a lab making perfumes and other cosmetics, and sometimes she would be lucky enough to snag you a few free samples. She came to you and Miguel's shared home with a small bottle of roll on perfume saying things like "it smells so good!" and "it's our new formula, so it might be a little strong-" but you couldn't say no. She has never given you a bad product so why would she start now?

After your friend left you decided to take a whiff of the new perfume. When you smelt it you realized that it wasn't too strong and that the smell was actually quite pleasant. You decided to roll on some of the perfume on your neck and chill out on the couch until your husband gets home.

Miguel comes home everyday pretty late and extremely exhausted. You don't mind having nights where it's calm between the two of you, but he's been so stressed and tired lately that the both of you have barely had anytime in the bedroom together. He came in and slammed the door, taking a long look at you on the couch before going over and flopping down next to you. His head was nestled into your neck; he always did this when he came home, it gave him a sense of comfort being close to you like this.

"How was your day hun?" You asked and moved your hand to trail your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"Exhausting." He grumbled and took a deep breath, smelling your perfume. His movements stilled for a moment and took another deep ragged breath, "you smell... different." He growled out and pulled you closer.

You could feel your face heat as he pulled you closer, no matter how long you've known him, he still gets you flustered. "O-oh- yeah, my friend came over and got me some new perfume. It's just something light-"

"Light?" He asked cutting off your words, "you smell fucking amazing." He groaned out and pulled away from your neck. His face was surprisingly red, which was odd for such a stolid man. His chest was heaving, and he was looking at you with an unyielding desire. His hands went under your thighs, grasping them, and lifting you into his lap. His hands grazed your thighs up to your stomach then your breasts. He kissed and nipped at your neck, being careful not to break skin as he reveled in your gasps and moans.

"I thought you were tired-" you got out between moans as he gently laid you down on the couch. He looked down at you, and his pupils were so blown that his eyes were completely black with lust.

He pressed a needy kiss to your lips, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pushed his tongue past your lips. His eyes were hooded, watching your expressions while he kissed you. He loved when your eyes fluttered and rolled back from his touch. He broke the kiss, "I haven't been giving you enough attention." He murmured before lifting the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, and started kissing down your neck to your breasts. He sucked the skin around your nipple before sucking the sensitive peak into his mouth, his hand moved up and teased your other nipple with his calloused thumb.

Your head was tilted back in pleasure, your moans filled his sensitive ears which feed more into his desire. He let your nipple go from his mouth with a soft pop before kissing down to your stomach. He gently kissed the soft skin of your tummy and kept looking at you. "You're beautiful, mi amor," he groaned into your skin. You looked away from him for a moment; your face red with blush before he nipped at your stomach, pulling a gasp from you as he soothed the sting with his tongue, "keep your eyes on me, watch me pleasure you." He demanded as he pulled down your pants. He snapped the band of your panties, chuckling as he listened to your sharp gasp.

"Stop teasing-" you demanded weakly as he pulled down your panties, giving your inner thigh a gentle slap before pushing them apart.

"Just because I'm worshipping your cunt doesn't mean you can start making demands." He growled out before looking at your dripping pussy. He pushed himself between your legs, forcing your legs to rest on his shoulders. He started kissing your inner thighs, the warmth of his breath moving over your heated skin. He listened to your whimpers and pleas for him to give you what you wanted. "Don't rush me..." he murmured before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit.

"Fuck!- Miguel-" you gasped out, still watching him between your thighs. His dark eyes were looking up at you for a moment from between your legs before he turned his attention back to your cunt.

His tongue gently licked at your soaked slit, taking in the taste of your arousal, "you taste even better than how you smell." He growled as he started lavishing your clit, licking and sucking until your back bowed to his face.

Your eyes were rolled back, and your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. "Miguel, I can't-" you gasped out as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

"Let go, hermosa, let me taste you." He coaxed between licks and felt your thighs clench as your cum soaked his mouth. He tasted every last drop and continued the flicks of his tongue on your stimulated clit causing you to cry out and try to push him away. He kept a firm grip on your hips, "don't push me away from you, mi amore." He grumbled as he finished cleaning the excess between your legs.

He pulled away and sat back on his haunches looking at how beautifully fucked out you were before stripping himself of his own clothes. He hovered over you gently moving your legs around his waist and lining the tip of his cock with your entrance, "deep breaths baby... it's been a minute..." he murmured into your ear as he thrusted into you.

"Oh god-" you moaned and leaned your head back. Your nails gently clawed at his shoulders and back as he started to fuck you in a slow and deep pace. His head went into the space between your neck and shoulders, leaving hickeys as he took in more of the perfume.

"Fuck-" he started and picked up the pace of his thrusts, "take it baby-" He grunted and his fingers dug into your thighs. He could feel your cunt squeezing his cock as you gasped and moaned.

"Miguel, I'm gonna-" you started before you were cut off by your own moans of pleasure. His cock ground against the spongey spot inside you that make you see stars. Your vision blackened as your cum gushed around his dick. He pulled his head from your neck to look at you while you came for him.

Your pussy pulsed and milked his cock with a relentless rhythm, "damnit hermosa-" he growled out as he pressed deeper into you. His head rested on your shoulder as his cock twitched. He felt you buck your hips up to meet his, and the restraint inside him snapped as he came inside you. His semen coated the inner walls of your pussy as he groaned and panted. He stayed lodged inside of you as he started to press kisses to your face and neck, "make sure to get more of that perfume..."

[paperyowl]

Repost of a ficlet I wrote a while ago that got lost in the void (I think?).

Bucktommy, E-rated.

+++

"So good. Tommy, you're so good."

It's tame as far as praise goes - and entirely breathless on Buck's part as he gaps when Tommy fucks up into him with a sharp movement that seems entirely involuntary, almost unseating him from his perch on Tommy's lap. Oh. Oh.

"So strong, so stunning, so good - Fucking me so well," Buck tells him, stuck on the realization that Tommy liked the praise, reacted like it was some far raunchier dirty talk - his eyes flicker up to Buck, looking as stunned and dazed as Buck feels when every other thrust lights his spine up with electric pleasure.

Tommy drops his head a little, breaking eye contact. But not before Buck sees something flicker in them that he doesn't expect, something small and sad. Something that aches in Buck's chest because it is so familiar - but he can't quite put his finger on it.

"What's-"

Buck breaks of with a moan - Tommy never breaks the rhythm of fucking up into Buck entirely, just stutters a little when Buck spreads his legs as far as they will go, attempting to balance on the chair, but really he's at Tommy's mercy, reliant on his tight grip at Buck's hips. Tommy shifts with him, holding him securely, keeping him safe.

But Buck can't push that frisson of the worry out of his head - cups Tommy's face with both hands, tilting it up. He meets the kiss that Tommy dives in for with pleasure - but Buck doesn't let go of Tommy's face when he draws back. He feels Tommy's attempt to break his hold and-

"Wait."

It's not loud, but Tommy stills immediately - his sweet, gorgeous boyfriend - and this time, Tommy's eyes showed him nothing but sweet concern.

"What's wrong, baby?"

But Buck has seen it. Buck understands.

"You know that you're stunning, right?"

Tommy's face does something complicated - and Buck is certain that the only reason he doesn't hide the expression immediately by glancing away is his concern for Buck. That he'd done something wrong.

"Evan, I-"

"You're like the full package. You're smoking hot and so gentle, and you give it to me so well and-"

"Evan, stop."

There is a shuddering sigh that Tommy presses to Buck's shoulder, hands flexing on Buck's hips. Even with Tommy's breath so warm and wet, Buck feels an odd kind of cold now.

"I don't need you to butter me up, you know. I know I'm..."

Tommy trails off. But Buck doesn't need him to say the words; he knows them intimately, knows how destructive they could be. He feels Tommy laugh a little, trying to brush the whole thing off.

No. No way. He wouldn't allow Tommy to think that way.

Buck pulls away, watching Tommy's face fall, and grabs his wrist to make him get up. There is a fair bit of confusion as Buck leads Tommy all the way to his bed, only to push him down in the middle of it and settle right back in his lap.

"You are good and hot and beautiful," Buck says as he keeps trading kisses with a wide-eyed Tommy. "Let me show you?"

(Buck proceeds to do just that, pouring every ounce of love he has for this man into lingering touches until he slips Tommy back inside him and rides him until they both come. Until he has fingered Tommy, slow and steadily back to hardness, leaving marks and wet kisses all over his body, before fucking Tommy face-to-face, whispering to him the whole time. Until Buck tells him that pleading wouldn't do him any good, but he could always repeat Buck's words and see if that worked. Until Tommy gasps out, "I believe you, I believe you" like a prayer, like an absolution - and Buck gentles him after, kissing away the tears, bundling him up against his own body, never letting go.)

[spicybunni]

YANDERE MILLIONAIRE X FEM DARLING

This is based off a wacky dream I had about being kidnapped by a handsome millionaire. What does that say about my mental health? Absolutely nothing.

WARNINGS⚠️ : SFW / DUBCON TOUCHING / KIDNAPPING

🥀Your limbs were sore, aching to be released in their bent positions. The last thing you remember was going to bed on a normal night, nothing unusual about your day at work. Now you're awake feeling groggy, were you drugged? How long had you been asleep? so many thoughts and questions were running through your mind.

🥀'Help! Someone! Please help me!' Your cries echoed in the room. Everything seemed so empty and hallow all around you. You must be in some abandoned building.

🥀Breathing was becoming harder and harder as you cried out. Your arms were behind you, cuffed together and chained to a wall.

🥀Your thoughts pause as you hear footsteps coming, climbing up nearby stairs. Breathe quickening, you shove yourself against the wall to at least ground yourself. The door to the room opens suddenly. You hear two- no...4 people come through. They're all men, speaking in a foreign language you can't understand or name. You start to hyperventilate as the terror finally hits you. You don't have any shoes or socks on. Just the pajamas you went to bed with. You're so exposed.

🥀The steps come to a halt surrounding you. Your breath is coming out shaky now.

"P-Please....Let me go..."

🥀A male voice finally speaks out, sounding as if giving an order. You hear them approach you and feel hands on your arms, holding you in place as another one unlocks the chain from your cuffs.

The chain drops to the ground, making you jump from the loud rattle it made.

🥀You're brought into a van, the seats are leather and cold against your exposed skin. The men don't hurt you, in fact they seem hesitant to even grab you. In these scenarios you would expect them to be rough. they don't answer nay of your question or pleas inside. So you just wait.

🥀It felt like hours before the vehicle halts. You hear the men get out first before the doors roll open for you. They rip the blindfold off you so you can guide yourself. You realize its actually daytime when your eyes adjust to the sudden light. And as you guessed earlier you were still in your pajamas. Your comfy pants and loose shirt thank goodness. Sometimes you slept in just your underwear.

🥀You take in the scenery around you. From the round about fountain the van was parked in front of, to the expanding nature surrounding the mansion. They have brought you to an estate.

🥀The mansion you have arrived at is breathtaking. From the rose bushes and flower gardens, the roman statues posed in-between, and the wood carved doors that opened.

🥀A few maids come out surrounding a man you recognized. He was your boss's boss. You were just a cleaning lady at his company's building. He was a bit older than you, but by all means was handsome and powerful. You had a chance to meet him briefly a few times while walking through the building early in the mornings or at night. But what was he doing here?

🥀"There she is! How are you feeling sweetie?" He seems joyful to see you as he approaches. The weight of being kidnapped was sore in your throat from your cries and pleas. The effects of whatever you had been drugged with was slowly wearing off, but you were nowhere near sober. You were so exhausted, but not broken enough to just lean in. You take a step back making you bump into the guards behind you.

“W-What am I doing here? What do you want from me!” You hold your arms in front of your stomach.

🥀He has a crisp black suit on, dressing just as sharp when you would see him at the company building. His expression goes from excited to sympathetic at your response to him.

“You look real tired sweetheart... Why don’t you come inside and we’ll get you more comfortable.” He stretches his hand out to you. You weren’t going to take it until one of the guards taps your back with the barrel of his gun. Making you jump forward to his hand.

🥀He grins down at your frightened self as you shakily put your hand in his. His much larger hand envelops yours and he guides you into the estate with his other on your lower back.

"Please I don't know why you're doing this I-"

"My dear, I know this is a lot to take in. But have patience. Once you're all fixed up we can talk. Ahem - Ladies, would you kindly take her upstairs and make her comfortable?"

🥀He ushers you with the maids to have them clean you up and dress you. Your body was finally regaining its strength, expelling the drug from your system throwing up into the toilet. You felt so weak but knew you must save every bit of strength to get out of here. The maids gently held your hair up as you expelled yourself.

🥀You felt as though you were getting a spa treatment. They stripped you down to your naked body and guide you towards a steaming bath mixed with salts and flower petals. They attempted to wash you but you grabbed the sponge warning them off the idea and taking care of that part yourself. Whatever was in that bath did relax you a little. Your skin was absolutely glowing.

🥀They dress you in a weird vintage gown. It reaches below your knees and you have to wear a petticoat so the dress falls nicely. This was a major difference to the jeans and work clothes you would wear at your job and daily life. It was one of those traditional 50’s housewife dresses.

🥀Mr.Millionaire had his eye on you for so long since your first encounter with him. He thought that a woman of your caliber should be enjoying the finer things in life than scrubbing toilets. He found your kindness and humble nature endearing. His obsession went a bit further when he could make small talk with you in the morning. Of course he would be at his own building all hours of the day, so running into you a few times was inevitable. He would ask how your day was going and then slowly delve into personal questions. Many along the lines of “do you have a boyfriend?” “What are you doing tonight?” “Have you seen this movie?”

🥀You didn’t see why he would ask such questions to a maid. At the time you just thought maybe he was just trying to be nice to common folks such as yourself. You didn't see it as anything romantic because...well, you felt that he could have any he desired so why would he want you?

🥀Honestly, you should have seen the all the red flags at that point. Especially with what he had said after you answered his question of being happy with life. He saw how tirelessly you worked and rushed to exit to your next shift.

“Sounds like you are in need of a vacation from life my dear...”

You uncomfortably laugh at his joke.

“Right, right but bills don’t pay themselves sir…”

He held your gaze and nodded.

"No, they certainly don't."

🥀And you excused yourself after dusting and vacuuming his office. Not really wanting to continue the conversation further. But little did you realize you had sealed the deal. To him, you would be happier if you didn’t work or have to pay rent. At his age he should be married already anyway. He could use a cute wife like you to keep him company.

🥀Back to the present, the maids guided you to the living room of the mansion. You walk in and notice him by the fireplace sipping on a glass of whiskey.

🥀His eyes light up as he spots you coming in in your new attire. Letting out a low wolf whistle.

“Well how about that, the star got even brighter. You look great sweetheart.” He takes a final sip before setting his glass down.

“Come sit with me, won’t you?”

🥀He sees you glance to the doors where the maids hurried behind. Leaving the two of you alone finally.

“Ah-ah, I wouldn’t try that if I were you. You can run anywhere you’d like sweetie but I can assure you, it will not pleasant if you are found. Now, please …won’t you join me?”

🥀You glance back to him, shaking that he is already threatening you if you were to escape. Slowly stepping over to the leather sofa with him. The clicking sound of your mary jane heels halts as you seat yourself stiffly on the cushions.

🥀You cut right to the chase of why you are here again. He sighs, hoping you would have just figured that out by now. He gently takes your hand in both his large ones, his golden rings sliding against your palm.

"Sweetie, you are the one who gave me this idea. I mean - you looked so miserable cleaning and working day and night to make ends meet. I just wanted to make you happy and see you smile. And in return, you become all mine..."

"B-But you never even asked me! This is crazy!"

He tilts his head slightly with a condescending smile. He pulls your hand towards him, bringing you closer. You yelp at his actions, flinching when he leans into your ear.

"I don't ask for things that I want, sweetheart."

[nabi-unveiled]

With each rewatch of When It Rains, It Pours, I had become increasingly uncomfortable. A question had begun to plague me.

How did I miss it?

It's no secret that I've been in the "don't trust Fujisawa" camp for a while. But I felt bad for him during the early episodes. After all, it really is a nightmare situation for him too. Why did it take me until my THIRD watch of ep4 to fully convince myself of Fujisawa's nature?

Missing sounds? Not a surprise.

But COMPLETELY missing something that's literally GLARING at me? Not even having it on my radar? That's unusual.

I always have multiple theories and numerous potential scenarios running in my head. It's not like I was watching this series casually.

And make no mistake - the man's been glaring since episode 1. It wasn't constant, but the glaring is not a new development.

Even Fujisawa's words have never been subtle.

So how did I miss it? Why did it take me so long?

I realized the answer yesterday, and I don't like it.

I missed the signs, because I was trained to miss them.

I see these dynamics all the time in my community. And when you see something all the time, you begin to notice it less.

Being uncomfortable with sex?

Growing up ensconced in purity culture means I know A LOT of people with very complex relationships with sex.

Some want it but would NEVER dare talk about it.

Some see it as something shameful.

Some see it as something to be feared.

It's what happens when you're constantly told libido is a swamp.

So this...

I didn't see it as a problem beyond them wanting different things. Either Fujisawa was ace or had issues with sex. He had been open about it with Sei, and he was doing the best he could.

This is fine as long as both parties are content. But Fujisawa is controlling and manipulative. Note the "bars" in the picture above.

Matching your partner's preferences?

I was taught catering to my partner's commands was an expectation. It was required to be a "good" partner. So this....

At one point WAS me. And even if I don't obey the rules anymore, I still see this type of "consideration" in most relationships around me.

IT'S NOT HEALTHY.

Consideration should not mean self-sacrifice.

At one point I thought, "Well, it's Sei's choice."

And that's true. But I know better than to fall for that logic.

It ignores his trauma.

It ignores his low self-esteem.

It ignores his fear of being left alone.

It ignores the difficulty of leaving those you care about and the life you know.

It ignores the manipulation.

Because this type of statement? It's tricky. It can be completely innocuous. But it can also be controlling, and a lot of that comes down to the power dynamics of the relationship.

Fujisawa holds the power here. He HAS been controlling and trying to manipulate Sei. I questioned last week what the purpose was of the editor if Fujisawa wasn't having an affair. However, it became clear when watching for the sizzle. Sei says he will go to the party and Fujisawa IMMEDIATELY says "I'll introduce you to my editor."

The unspoken words are if you don't go to the party. Mentioning the editor was a manipulation tactic. A subtle one, but it was there.

I give Sei credit. He went to the party. He kept emailing Hagiwara. He pushes back on occasion. He doesn't always follow commands.

But well.... damn.

I thought I could at least recognize when my raising was influencing interpretations. I thought I had worked through those issues.

So thanks When it Rains for reminding me not to forget my ID.

I sure as hell don't plan on getting trapped in that room again.

Break out Sei. It's not easy, but BREAK OUT.

There's a beautiful world waiting.

[meirimerens]

do you happen to have any headcanons about pascal curious and nervous subject? or any other sims 2 character for that matter :p

you get answered with anon from like yesterday #oops i had stuff on my plate teehee but Yes.

the nervous subject:

as far as nervous' #deal is i like to go with the Sims 2 For PSP lore that he willingly (or "willingly" - in quotes to express the murkiness of willingness when you're broke as shit) went in with the Beakers because he needed coin. in my head, like many kids who age out of the foster care system, he found himself age 18 not really having anywhere to go (no contact with the family during his stay in foster care), not really having had the best environment to learn any skill, he tells himself well fml 🤷‍♂️ might as well.

related to his 10 active point i think he's strong as shit. does not look like it (macdonalds_napkin_flying_out_of_window.txt). also very endurant - not necessarily fast, but his ass would smoke everyone in a long-distance run because he can just keep going. this is Not A Great Thing in his current #predicament because that just means he recuperates pretty fast from the experiments and so they just keep happening with little downtime.

bruises easily. and a lot because his prioperception is kind of fried so he's got always a blue spot somewhere.

i've #made #him in my ts4 game with a crooked nose and nose scar (which i draw, the crookedness of the nose translates a bit less since i'm always drawing his ass three-quartered) and those i think he got in foster care. even if he exists with 0 nice point i think that's an Experiment thing, he is not truly a Dipshit, but he's very early become quite rowdy. got into a tussle. got his nose broken. "you should see the other guy". this is also very funny to me because one of my OC has that same broken nose+scar deal

on the topic of My OC Has This in my mind's eye he's got tha Y-shaped autopsy scar. hector I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow [scars like the weird lesbians of my mind] did not really die, still has it. he understands that's probably a Scary thing for people to see + his ass doesn nawwwt want to deal with the question so when his best fwiend and his two Unsuspecting brothers try to get him to join for a relaxing heatwave afternoon in the strangetown pool he's like "i don't want to take my shirt off [THINKS FAST] because i'm insecure about being bony" and they're like "that's fine man no pressure 👍" [clueless]

le pascal curieux:

on one hand the phrase "gayscal bicurious" i had in the tags of my art once makes me hysterical and i genuinely leep fucking repeating it out loud to myself so often. devilish echolalic sound. on the other it is genuinely funny to me to imagine him realizing years later "why the fuck do i have beef with this guy over his gf i don't even like women 😐😐😐😐🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️". he keeps the beef though makes him feel alive #hatermindset #scorpio

after nervous told him "i have some... weird... living arrangement... and my roommates don't like to hear me play music out loud" pascal started putting songs he thinks nervous would like on an mp3 player. nervous gives it back to him every once in a while and update him on his taste so pascal can add more songs next time they see each other.

now not to get too deep into the politics of the sims franchise's mpreg. a pregnancy narrative hates to see me coming. but in my head... while he's a loving father and is protective and kind and genuinely obsessed with his kid once they're born & tutti quanti towards his little scrunkly... i think he lived the pregnancy pretty Lukewarmly. he knew that it Could happen, but well. the household description does mention "[getting] more than they were "expecting."". i think until halfway there he was like 😬 and then the Weird Scientist Brain kicked in and he was like "this is an Experience". pascal curious I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow. Post-Partum Depression (jesting. unless?)

not new of a headcanon because i've drawn it so it's probably obvious I think he's the shortest of the brothers and a Reliable Resident of Stockytown #shawty

bringing together Buddy Erwin Lore and "In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis" i know the inhabitants of strangerville hate to see him hang out by erwin's Listening Station and psychoanalyzing every word that comes out of the mouth of the people he's bugged #nosy

erwin detour because i have this to say:

he drives a two-toned (orange and white) 1980 chevy k30 crew cab. a beat-up thing that he loves so muchhhh. looks like this (but imagine Oinge and not tan/camel)

speaking of cars i have something for Lazlo:

drives a 1986-1988 buick riviera. a purble one. exactly. i see it for him for the little screen inside #vintage #slay

stoner. with peace and love and zero derogatory tone. he feels it makes him think. it does. tbh i see the three dabbling. you're telling me vidcund has this beautiful greenhouse and they don't grow cannabis in there? you know that post that's like. my homie was making edibles and discovered passion for baking now he's a baker. this did not happen to lazlo he knew how to cook and bake completely independantly. but it helps. they let nervous smoke with them and they see him blink normally for the first time.

Ophelia Nigmos my shayla....

she has a Motorola RAZR V3 for phone. it is DECKED to the heavens with stickers and stick-on gems and phone charms

2004 is prime and i mean primeeee pop-punk/emo era (hence why she looks #likethat tbh) and she's deeeep in that. like Simple Plan's "I'm Just A Kid" came out 2002 and i knowwww she's having that shit on LOOP on her mp3 player. due to the fact that She's Just A Kid And Her Life Is A Nightmare

the bloggerrrr i know she is blogging. idk what strangetown could have as a mirror to the 2000s-2010s french "Skyblog" [les vrais connaissent tmtc] but girl... is.... BLOGGING!!!! either a Livejournal or a Blogger.

i just realized how long this poast was #oops but Basically Yes.

[cweeming]

act four.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

you sat with your back to his body, your feet on either side of his knees. because his legs were spread apart, yours were spread aswell, easier access to your cunt.

"easy, miss." he huffed into your ear upon feeling you slightly tremble, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. you were nervous - real nervous. being a virgin and getting laid by a dude for the first time didn't go together. "relax and let me take care of things, yes?"

he guided your head back to rest against his shoulder, ensuring you were content. once that happened, he moved his hand between your legs, pressing his palm to your panties.

"this won't hurt, will it?"

Patch smirked, releasing a huff of a laugh. "worse," he teased, in hopes of frightening you just a bit. you whimpered, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

what you hadn't had in mind? for him to be skilled at what he were doing. you released a low groan as you felt his hand go into your panties, the heat of his palm pressing against your cunt. when you grabbed his wrist, he'd have his attention solely focused on you, making you cry out as he grabbed a fistful of your cunt.

"don't make the claws come out, love." he huskily whispered the warning into your ear, grounding his intentions. nothing would stand in the way between you and the pleasure he aimed to elicit.

and so, he began to finger you. his hand dragged upward before rubbing circles against your folds. at first, no symptoms came, until the minutes passed. you laid your head back against his shoulder, holding your breath as you felt your stomach coil. while you couldn't describe it, it were a warm feeling.

"you won't break me," you croaked, Patch side-eyeing you. that were a lie.

no other symptom came and you grew grew bored, his hand continuing to rub circles against your folds. impatient and a virgin, you had anticipated a bit more.

"ain't that a promise?" his rubbing halted as he withdrew his hand from your panties, studying the essence on his fingers. lubrication. you were sexually aroused. he glanced over at you with a smug smile, you doing the same except in confusion. how innocent you were.

"I don't think-" your words trailed off as you watched him sniff his fingers, before licking them. you winced. that's a thing? "... you're supposed to digest that."

"light me a cigar, will ya?" in the midst of tasting you? a man has his own needs, and you supposed you couldn't reject.

"um... sure." not like you knew how to. hell, might aswell try.

you moved so you were straddling his lap again, facing his direction. he had already pulled out a cigar, holding it between 2 fingers. he took out a lighter as you asked, "aren't you worried this'll damage your health?"

"shoulda already." he looked up at you, before handing you the cigar and lighter. "toast it."

you glanced between him and the materials, confused. toast what? the cigar? you barely knew how to handle 2 things at once, much less light a cigar on fire. "how?"

he frowned, motioning the materials with both hands. what was he expecting? it's not like you had a degree in cigartology. looks like you were alone in this one. with shaky hands, you slowly extended them toward the cigar and lighter, feeling first before engulfing them in your grasp. "yes... okay."

you closed your eyes, before taking a deep breath. impress the eyepatch man. with that, you reopened them, before eyeing what you had before you. boy, did it feel like you were being evaluated by a judge on a tv show.

"firstly... you're going to have to." you tried to open the cap of the lighter, but couldn't. looking over at Patch, you giggled nervously, cheeks going pink. "give me a moment."

he opened it for you. you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you realized he were helping you. simple, you could slap yourself silly. "hold and rotate. the heat is applied to the foot of the cigar. like this."

he activated the lighter, igniting a fire from the head. your lips tightened into a line, slowly scooting away an inch from the lighter. he shot you a perplexed look. "missy, you won't burn even if you wanted to."

to demonstrate, he moved the lighter toward the cigar in your hand. "hold at a 45° angle and rotate."

you did so. the cigar now at a 45° angle, you slowly rotated, watching as the tobacco warmed. all the while, Patch glared at you, a smug smile playing on one side of his face. you were learning.

you spaced out for a moment, snapping back into reality as you felt the cigar leave your hand. your eyes undilated as you fixed your gaze on Patch, who inserted the head of his cigar into his mouth.

"light it," he spoke, cigar still in mouth. you moved the lighter directly infront of his cigar, about to activate it when he grabbed your wrist. "without letting the flame touch the cigar." you blushed, an awkward smile appearing on your face. with a nod, you moved the lighter a few feet away, before activating it - lighting the cigar.

"so... do I get an A?" you asked, in the mood to act cute. Patch puffed a few times before making sure the cigar were evenly lit. "in your dreams." you grunted, your expression turning serious.

"... 'cause that's exactly what I need to hear from the guy who's hooking up with me." you released a hmph, before turning your back on him - sitting in his lap like you had previously. he sighed, rolling his eyes at your antics.

"don't tell me you're not enjoying this." he hooked one finger into the waistband of your panties, setting his cigar aside to do the same with his other hand. you smirked, lifting your hips up so he could take off your panties. "maybe a little."

"a little? mmm..."

the panties slid down to your ankles, and you sat back down in his lap. you had no time to react when his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles that made you arch into his touch. you sighed, relaxing your head back against his shoulder.

"you're a cheat." you looked over at him, him doing the same. you couldn't help but release a groan, feeling a warm and tingling sensation spread through your core. "and a damn good one, at that."

he had you at the palm of his hand. does he know how he's making you feel? your inner muscles fluttered and clenched, only growing responsive each second that passed. he took your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. you didn't do with kisses.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you couldn't help but pant as he repeatedly teased the slick entrance to your cunt with his other hand, dipping only the tip inside before pulling out. it sent a shiver up your spine, sweat appearing on your brow while your chest heaved. despite being in an anticipated and excited state, you couldn't succumb to the growing arousal.

"feels good, don't it?" you looked up at him at the sound of his voice, nodding your head.

"it'd feel even better with the sound of your voice..." your hips twitched and rotated, seeking direct contact with his probing fingers "... heard sex is supposed to be sexy. y'know, dirty talk and all."

silence. he paused his ministrations, as if contemplating on your words. then, he plunged 2 fingers deep into your tight heat, causing a sharp intake of breath to escape your lips as your inner walls clenched around the invading digits.

"actions speak louder than words." he whispered into your ear, curling his fingers slightly. you released a moan, grabbing a hold of his arms with your nails. "do I have to keep reminding you of my claws, missy?"

his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, making you shiver with his hot breath. you were about to experience the time of your life - and things were just getting started.

"right. sorry." you released your hold on his arms. your thighs pressed together as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, inner walls clenching and releasing around his fingers. as if trying to contain the growing warmth spreading through your lower belly.

"open," he commanded, thumb continuing its persistent cycle on your clit. you shook your head, but the expression on his face left you with no choice. as you spread your legs open again, your breath came in short bursts.

time went by and his pace varied, sometimes fast and hard while other times slow and deliberate. you never knew about the pleasure stored in your body until each movement drove you to the edge, coaxing out the pleasure. one thing was for sure: Patch's focus remained solely on you, your body language and the ways to improve on his work.

"f-fuck..." sweat gleamed on your skin. your hair were disheveled. how long had this ecstasy gone on for? the pace of his fingers drew you wild, sometimes rapidly pushing you toward the brink while other times holding you back, teasing you mercilessly. the only thing you found helping from cumming right then and there were your nails scraping his skin. "... can't you go a little slower?"

as these words left your lips, you felt yourself begin to tighten. warning signals went off in your mind. you had no plans on cumming.

"oh, nonono-" with a few more skilled thrusts, Patch were aware of your sudden state, your cunt clenching steadily around his fingers. "abort, James, abort!" but, he didn't listen. he smirked, even as he rubbed your clit firmly.

"James..." you strained toward release, breasts pushing towards the ceiling as your back arched off his lap. "... I'm going to..." your face contorted, features forming into a silent moan of pleasure. "... to..."

throwing your head back, your shut your eyes tightly, seeing stars. what you anticipated? to have passed on, entering the heavens. in reality, your legs pressed together, preventing an orgasm and his hands from continuing onward.

"you alright, missy?" your eyes shot open, and you looked up at him. he looked down at you, his hands still stuck between your thighs. you must have realized, looking down at your legs and seeing them pressed together. you didn't have to say anything as embarrassment read your face, a low groan escaping your lips as Patch's fingers left your clit and cunt. "how long was I out for?"

"you weren't." he brang his fingers to his lips, tongue darting out to lick the sticky residue of your wetness. "all you had was an overreaction." he lapped at his fingers slowly, knowingly, as if taking in the flavor of your arousal.

you tilted your head to one side, watching what he were doing in confusion. he had done this before, and were doing it again. he noticed, his tongue swirling and flicking until they came to a halt. "what?"

"I don't suppose what you're doing is normal." he furrowed his brow at your words, a frown on his face. where are you going with this? "the human body isn't meant to consume forbidden things."

"an I like what you did to me would have been helpful." he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"DO IT"

Soooo I wrote a new fic with Sergei 🖤🥵😭☝🧎‍♀️

I hope you like it!

Sergei had been watching you for a while now, without you noticing his presence.

That morning, while he was training in the forest where his small house was, he smelled you. A scent he had never detected in that place before, so of course he had to go check what was going on.

The last time he had caught a scent different from the usual ones, he had come across several poachers, who had killed several rhinos to remove their horns and sell them to the highest bidder. Obviously he had to kill them, thus getting rid of the problem.

He was perched on one of the huge trees in the forest, his magnified gaze never leaving you, who were a few meters away.

He watched as you looked at the plants, the ground, the small animals like ants and flies, and he realized that you were not there to cause any harm, so he should leave, since he had nothing to fix there.

Instead he found himself looking at you curiously. It was then that he saw you quickly moving away from where you were. He turned his head to see what the threat was, colliding with the huge figure of a bear.

Without wasting time, the hunter slid skillfully between the branches of the trees, to let himself fall in the middle of the animal's path. You ran for several minutes, until you heard a dull thud behind you.

You turned around thinking that perhaps the predator had accidentally crashed into one of the trees. Instead, you found him.

A dark-skinned man with broad shoulders stood in front of the bear.

You opened your eyes wide, thinking that he was crazy, that if he didn't move away he was going to kill him, but the animal didn't do any of that, on the contrary, it stared at you as if it wasn't watching a human, but an animal of its own species.

-Go away –he ordered, his hoarse and authoritative voice sending shivers through your body- she is not food –he indicated, gesturing with his head towards where you were- I am sure you can find your dinner elsewhere

The bear let out a growl that almost sounded like an assent.

To your amazement, you saw how the animal turned around to walk away as quickly as it had appeared. Only when it was several meters away, the man turned to you.

His blue eyes stared into yours with such intensity that you felt your legs turn to butter. He watched you for a moment, before sketching a kind smile.

-Are you okay? –he asked, you nodded shyly-

-I'm still scared, but at least I have all my body parts left –you laughed nervously- What are you doing here? –you asked, holding his gaze-

-I live here –he answered-

-In the middle of the forest? -You pressed, he shook his head negatively-

-I have a house, on that hill -he pointed to a spot behind your head- this forest is my home -he explained while asking- What are you doing here? –he said- this isn't a safe place for you to walk around alone

-I know- you sighed tiredly- I came to explore the fauna of this area- you explained- they told me that there was a huge variety of wild animals here, so here I am- you said- that's what I do

-You're a zoologist- he murmured, you nodded-

-One who should go back to the city to look for a place where she can sleep for a modest price- you looked up at the sky- in a few hours it will get dark, and as much as I love animals I don't want to be devoured by any

-I won't let you walk around the forest in the dark by yourself- he answered firmly- come with me

You froze in place, before pulling your hair into a ponytail. A gesture that Sergei found fucking adorable.

He forced himself to remain serious as you looked at him, weighing your options, which were quite few.

-Okay - you said, nodding in his direction

He watched you for a moment, before nodding for you to follow. You tried not to notice how the muscles in his back contracted and relaxed with each step he took, failing miserably.

When you reached the hill, you were barely able to breathe, and he looked like he had just gone out for a simple walk. He opened the door and let you in first. You were greeted by a mixture of smells: leather, wood and wet earth.

You looked with fascination at the glass windows and the large sofa he had placed in front of them.

-Make yourself comfortable - he offered, looking at you delicately - I'll light the fireplace.

-Thank you - you murmured, sitting on the sofa

The man threw a couple of logs into the fireplace and after knocking two stones together, the fire began to burn them.

He sat on the couch at a safe distance, while he focused on the flames, how the tongues of fire were slowly devouring the wood.

You stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes shining in the dim light of the fire.

He noticed you looking at him and tilted his head towards you, who quickly placed it on the fireplace.

He gave you a half-smile, before breaking the silence that surrounded you.

-So your job is to put yourself in mortal danger in front of a wild animal to study it and say that all the effort and risks taken have been in favor of science?

-That's one way of looking at it – you said, laughing lightly, you fixed your gaze on him –And what do you do?

-I hunt –he answered very seriously-

-And what do you hunt? –you asked curiously-

-People –he murmured before adding- bad people –he pointed out- when I saw you before I thought you were coming to kill me –he smiled- in the end it turns out that you are not a murderer

-Why would someone want to kill you? –you questioned, he stared at you-

-The ecosystem works like this –he began to explain- the smaller animals try to rebel against the strongest predator, the one that is higher on the food chain –he whispered- sometimes you have to remind the sheep that they cannot kill the lion

You pressed your lips tightly together and shifted restlessly on the couch. Sergei watched as your pulse pounded hard in your neck, and the way your pupils had dilated.

-And what happens…? –you asked trying to speak clearly- What happens if the sheep join forces with the rest of the small animals? An alliance like that could defeat the lion

“The lion is the king of the jungle,” he said. “If the little ones don’t know how to behave and recognize his authority, he has to stop them and remind them who’s in charge,” he said, a shiver running down your spine.

“I suppose you’re the lion in this story,” you said, he nodded slowly.

“Yes,” he said, looking at you intently. He approached you quickly, with the agility of a panther and the stealth of a fox. “And you’re the sheep I’m going to eat.”

He raised his hand to your cheek, his rough, masculine fingers running down your cheek, before tracing the curve of your lower lip.

“Tell me your name, dorogoy.” His voice was hoarser when he spoke in Russian, which didn’t help your condition in the slightest. He knew how much he had affected you, as the skin on your arms had gotten goosebumps when he said it.

It took you a moment to remember your name. His closeness, the heat radiating from his body, his hoarse voice and his damn bright eyes were to blame for your sudden amnesia.

-Cristel – you whispered as you felt his hands go down to the waistband of your green camouflage pants-

-Cristel – he tasted in his mouth – it's a dragotsennyy, dorogoy (beautiful, darling) name

-What's yours? –you asked, biting your lower lip as he slid his hands around the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down, creating a pile on the floor-

-If I told you, I'd have to kill you –he said in a baka voice- and I'm having too much fun with you to do that, prekrasnyy (beautiful) –he whispered, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger so you'd look at him- I'll tell you –he agreed- but first you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone-

-I promise –you answered, totally consumed by the sensations that were going through you at that moment-

-Good girl –he growled, getting closer to your ear- Sergei –he whispered- that's my name

-Sergei! –you squealed when you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties-

-You're already so wet for me, dorogoy –he growled, sliding a couple of fingers inside you with ease- God, your smell –he murmured- is driving me crazy

-Sergei… -you moaned when he began to push his fingers in and out repeatedly- please…

-Please what? –he demanded to know-

-You… -you gasped- I need you… I… please… -you begged again-

He brought your lips together, his mouth covering yours fiercely, as if he were thirsty and your lips were the jug from which he should drink.

He caught you between his strong arms, imprisoning you against the sofa, careful not to crush you with his weight.

You brought your hands to his hair, pulling at the wavy locks, eliciting several grunts from him.

Within seconds he was inside you.

No one had ever stretched you like he had, and that simple fact made you even more excited

-You're so tight, dorogoy –he murmured, pushing his hips against you, making you dig your nails into his shoulders- I can feel you tightening around me –he growled- fuck, you're taking me so well

-I'm going to cum –you warned, feeling the familiar pressure in your lower abdomen- please… -you threw your head back, but he held your neck firmly, without squeezing, just so you knew he was there

The feel of his fingers around your windpipe made you lose your mind

-I know, prekrasnyy (beautiful) do it –he ordered- cum for me

You both did it at the same time.

Then he pulled you towards him, making you rest your head on his chest.

He kneaded your hair until you fell asleep without realizing it. He smiled and placed a kiss on the top of your head, thinking that he couldn't have thought of a better way to end the day than with you.

[midnight-mourning]

I'm back! (for the most part)

Hello, hope everyone is doing alright, needed a few more days than I expected. BUT, here now and slowly working on being more active. May take me a bit but plan to get caught up with everything and the likes. Going to release promptobers throughout the next couple of days, along with anything else I'm currently working on. Expect some updates on the oneshot, ch. 35 and so on as well ^-^ Thank you all for your paitence and hope to be back to regularly posting soon!

some medical/mental stuff below the cut if you're curious, I was going to save this for the ch. 35 note, but figured I might as well just say it now as it's part of the reason my return was delayed

SO, haven't really spoken on it but I've had a sinus infection for about two months now and gonna be so fr with you all, it's sucked. Like, i've never had one this bad before and it just totally knocked me on my ass. I've been tired, dazed/brain fog, some bad headaches/face pain, all the really fun stuff. I made the joke that I spent like two days of being 23 healthy and the rest of the time I've been sick lmao

But anyway, I kept waiting to see if it would clear up on it's own (and for like a week or so there my health insurance was messed up so there was that to deal with) and it just, didn't. And with everything going on with research (esp this past week) I just made myself tough through it hoping it would get better, and it didn't. So, finally went to the doctor and got on some meds and I'm feeling a LOT better.

The point to all this is to say, I've had no motivation to write beyond very small bursts and thus why I've been putting out promptobers but not the latest chapter of CS. My energy has just been super low, and I had a lot of brain fog for several weeks and I just, couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it was a little bit of writer's block from stress too, not super sure

I took the break mainly bc things with research just got, really shitty for a few days there and I just needed time away from everything for bit esp with the sickness issues. Thankfully, things are working out a bit better this week people-wise and hopefully we'll continue to go up from here.

As for why I was gone the few extra days, the stuff they put me on made me feel physically great, but it also made me feel like doing absolutely nothing for a day or so. But, figured out the timing for those so now it's manageable to get through the next week and hopefully I'll be fully back to normal by then ^_^

TL;DR if you can go to the doctor when you're sick, go. It is NOT worth the discomfort, stress, etc to not. Also, take a break when you're stressed, does wonders for your mental health

well, since you took the time to read all of this, enjoy these pictures of a cat that showed up at my parents place a few days ago. She’s a bengal! Which makes her the second stray that's shown up that is incredibly rare/bred to look like that (the first is Nubs, my idiot who eats everything if any of you recall). Not to worry, she went home to (hopefully) her forever family early yesterday :)

[mydr3aminvi0let]

i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that

[ridingthatd]

'𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐒`

'needy jjk!man × fem!reader`

`filthy, dirty, kinky'

dominate, submissive, size kink, underwear sniffing kink, fat cock, breeding, knotting, nipple play, degrading kink, cummin in pants, etc...

you're a filthy slut aren't you? there's no point of denying it anymore. no point of feeling confused and frustrated one why you're such a perverted dirty whore, on why your pussy is always begging for cock, on why your mind is corrupted with lewd dirty thoughts that can't be said out loud.

you finally realized that you're just a pathetic needy slut who needs a fat cock to turn her insides into mush from rutting into her cervix. who needs her dirty fantasies to be true. and you have finally met someone who can turn them into reality. someone's who's just as needy and pathetic as you.

"aw does my sweet baby wants me to suck on his little hard nipples? hm?" you coo at your boyfriend, who has a whiney frown on his face. his mouth falls open as he whines giving you a full view of his wet tongue that you wanna suck on.

"tch, i told you to stop calling me that" he huffs out embarrassed at how turned on he is by your words. you chuckle before squeezing one of his nipples into your mouth while you pinch the other between your fingers. he immediately gasp at the contact of your wet warm tongue sucking hard on his tender nipple.

his fat cock was so hard in his boxers, you can see the outline of his dick leaking and twitching, like it wants to jump free out of his now tight boxers; how cute. you can feel your boyfriends steamy breath fanning against your face.

you don't even have to open your eyes to know what face he has on right now, you already know his eyes would into the back of his head, mouth half opened as drool runs down his pink lips. grunting and huffing like a dog in heat.

your boyfriend was a big guy, he was never the type of guy that you would expect to be a manwhore. but look at him now, all whiney and needy as you grind your hand against his hard on.

he beg you to slip your hand inside- he wants to feel your warm hands on his leaking fat cock, sloppily stroking it but instead you tell him you won't touch his cock unless he squirt his warm seeds, filling his underwear with hot cum.

and that's exactly what he does, it only took you a couple of strokes through the fabric while you suck on his nipple to get him cumming hard in his boxer. he lay down trembling, while he watch you through heavy eyelid stripping him from his boxers.

taking it in your hand just for your tongue to peak out and nastly lick the cum that's on the boxer. he groan watching you. but you don't stop there, you take the boxer and place it on your dripping pussy. grinding the boiling cum filled fabric against your pussy, coating your needy cunt with his seeds.

you start humping his underwear, eyes rolling behind your skull at the feeling of the rough fabric against your clit and the warmess of his cum grinding against your pussy. "you fucking dirty whore" your boyfriend growls out as he watches you, causing you to whimper loudly at his comment.

"yea? you want to be talked to like a dumb fuckmutt? pathetic slut" he finally breaks as he shoved you under him. finally getting you under him, seeing you break and try to hang onto whatever consciousness you had before his cock turned your insides into mush from rutting constant cervix kisses into your greedy cunt.

shushing your cries when you claim it's too much. pinning you deeper under him. finally settling down after rounds of abusing your cunt. just to pin you under his huge weight and hold you like a stuffed animal on his cock. letting you whine and squirm at the fullness in your belly from holding all of the constant loads he has rutted back inside until your pussy stop and just accept it....

[muntitled]

Blink Twice

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: After pushing your body to the brink, it's finally giving out. You're rewarded for all your dazzling work ethic with a “nice” dinner. As ‘nice’ as ‘nice’ gets with him…

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Coercion, Murder, Abuse, Male Manipulation, Implied Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Handcuffs, Exhibitionism, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Blood Play, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Squirting, Fingering, Somnophilia, Period Sex, Bodily Fluids.

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

"H-How do you keep breaking into my apartment?" If it weren't for the fact that you were currently being fingered awake, you might have found it in yourself to sound more angry.

But you weren't awake, and he had taken advantage of your unconscious state just enough to bend down over your sleeping frame, and slip his hands between your legs.

You had promised yourself a quick power nap on the couch, anything that might lessen the pain that had been steadily blooming in your left arm. That nap had stolen you throughout most of the day until, here he hovers over you- the man who is undoubtedly the culprit for all this bodily pain you're in- with his fingers inside you.

“There you are, sleepy head,” His face is so close, you can see the smile wrinkling his face. His smile is bright and kind but his fingers aren't. They're stretching your cunt out, wrenching a moan from deep within you as you stare down at your hips moving off the couch.

“Fuck…” Your voice cracks as he scissors his index and middle finger inside you, still on a mission to split you apart. You drown in the scent of his cologne and his perfectly new suit- a black one today.

You throw your head back, feeling the pressure mount as you grind down against his fingers all while he watches with immense satisfaction.

“Can't- just-” you gasp when your wetness seeps out of you and onto the couch. “Can't-Do-This-” For all those moments you forget that you're nursing a sore arm. As you grind down against his ruthless fingers.

You forget that he might have seriously injured you this time.

“I couldn't help myself,” he whispers hoarsely, forcing an orgasm out of you before placing a kiss on your forehead. “You look breathtaking when you're unconscious.”

As the orgasm passes, you try to wake yourself up and become more aware of your surroundings.

Your body is shaking once he's done with you. Your cunt aches and reality sets back in. “Get out of my house.”

He straightens his tie before standing to his full height again, “You say that like I don't own the place,"

He's smiling stiffly as he stands before you, clutching that bloody briefcase, having come to collect you for another round of games...

Something inside your worn-out soul breaks at the sight of him so unfathomably fazed. You were experiencing another round of those 'realization moments'.

You have actually gone and sold yourself to a sadist.

Especially now that he's gone and done it again. After vehemently expressing that he 'please be a little more gentle with you', he insisted on pushing your body to the brink of its abilities. Toying with you and punishing you and releasing all the workings of those sick, sick, sick games on you, and for what?

It hits you more often than not these days.

A paid apartment? Paid university fees?

You try to keep your sleepy eyes unkind as you glare up at him but even you blanch at how much of a necessary force he's made himself in your life.

"And how often are you going to remind me that all my resources are tied to you?" You rise from lying supine, waiting for the world to stop spinning before you start stretching. None of your limbs protest as much as yours left shoulder that practically howls in pain. He watches you with robotic intrigue.

"I thought I should make good on that promise to take you out.”

"Take me out?" He notes the way your good shoulders tenses and smiles.

"I already said I've got no plans to kill you. You're the most fun I've had in years and years." He says "I want you to go to dinner with me."

"You wanna take your abuse victim out to dinner... looking like this?" you try to lift your arm but it protests, sending a sharp pain through your entire left side.

"I think you look rather beautiful."

"You would think this is what beauty looks like."

A tense silence falls.

"You're angry." He tilts his head, "And in pain."

You scoff venomously then, "Whomever might the culprit be?" You ask sarcastically before picking yourself up from the couch. You're cradling your arm, dragging your worn body across the floor to the adjoining kitchen.

"My fucking arm still hurts." You nearly cry as you squeeze the words out. Shooting a teary-eyed glare at your sadist from the kitchen.

"Tonight is your celebration dinner and it's way overdue." He busies himself by folding up the quilt that had been draped along your sleeping frame, "All my virtues rest on giving credit where credit is due, and you my dear..." the gaze he arrests you in is warm, and penetrative, like you were being reminded that he owns your body and soul, "-have done stellar work for me."

It's said in a wave of reverence you didn't really expect.

"Let me take you out,"

Sure he was sociopathic, and deranged, and everything you should most definitely be seeking refuge from, but the sentiment in his voice is genuine. As if, after 40 years on this earth, with the violent tendencies he had undoubtedly been born with, here is someone that's actually helping him. That's what you're doing, you're helping him. But it comes at a steep, steep price.

"You have virtues?" You ask sarcastically, causing the once intense moment to scatter and lighten.

"And your humor would be missed if I killed you. Where else would I find someone with such a stellar sense of humor and almost no sense of self preservation?" He asks aloud, as he walks towards the counter that separates you both. "You should've asked for help the first day you met me-"

"You offered to pay my shit if I played your games, who would walk away from that?”

"You should've." He smiles. "But I'm glad you didn't." His smile reaches those dead, almond eyes, "And tonight we have a celebration dinner."

"I can't go out," you say, turning your back on him to drink water.

His voice is dark when he says, "Can't or won't?"

"Can't." You slam your cup down against the sink, earning a thick wave of silence. You were never angry with him before. Never. "I think you broke something." You say, turning slowly, still cradling your arm like a baby.

There's a jarring amount of care in his voice as he rounds the counter to walk closer towards you. He examines your arm with deceptively soft eyes as he softly says, "I really did a number on you, didn't I?"

You look up at him with blank eyes, "Try not to get off thinking about it," you snip back. Sarcasm was your only weapon.

"I couldn't help myself," He rests his large hand on your arm, "you know that right?

"Y-Yes," your resolve falters and you're back to being his submissive. "I don't blame you."

"In fact." He nods along with you, conditioning you to accept his view of the events as he says, "Our session this past week had been nothing short of magical."

You're not quite sure if that was a reliable portrayal of the events but your weak mind is already fitting the memories to be so.

Somehow, you're thinking of the events with less anger: how he had snapped real, silver handcuffs on your wrists, resting them behind your back while you were being fucked from behind. It had been blissful until he pulled too hard on the left and you screamed and you blacked out.

Now here he stands before you, drenched in the afternoon sunlight, wearing a brand new black suit, smelling of fine cologne, telling you it was magical.

He came when you broke your arm.

"Alright, I'll come with you," he decides with finality, prompting you to snap out of your daze.

"No, I can go myself!" You move around him to gather your things.

"Unless you've magically obtained the ability to communicate in Korean then I suggest I come with you." He watches you race across your tiny apartment, gathering your things.

"There are English speaking doctors I'll be f-uck." As you were searching for your phone between the couch, you angered the arm, causing another wave of pain to blossom.

"I'm taking you." He stands by the doorway, "Let's go."

Your nostrils flare as the real reason for your discomfort rears its head. "B-but what if..."

You let the words die on your lips. Choosing instead to look at him, hoping your eyes relay the severity of the implications that might arise from a simple trip to the hospital. All those questions.

"Don't tell me you're worried about me." He says, still smiling.

"Worry?" You snort as you make your way to the front door where your sneakers sit, "If you go to jail who's gonna make me cum?"

He clutches at the space where a heart ought to be and says, "And here I was thinking you were falling in love with an old man like me."

"You can't love anything," you shoot back coldly.

"I can't," he confirms, "but you can."

You move away from the conversation like It's growing teeth.

"Let's just go," you mumble quietly, heading out the door, not looking back and knowing he'd follow.

𓂃

The hospital is bombarded by the smell of antiseptic and busy bodies in white coats whizzing all around you. It's dizzying actually being here as the severity if it all comes hammering down on you. You didn't like being around so many people at the best of times- even attending university everyday was met with its fair share of anxiety. Almost on instinct, you curl a little closer into his side, letting your right hand slither over his wrist. Surprisingly, he lets you.

"What should I say?" It only strikes you now that you probably should have rehearsed some script since 'I'd like to seek medical attention because I'm meeting with a homicidal sadist weekly who pays my bills and my body is finally giving out,' probably wouldn't be a good way to go.

The confidence in his stride leaves you brimming with nervousness. Your less than orthodox dynamic has already made a few passers by stare but here, inside the hospital, you feel like the only two humans to exist.

"I'll do the talking," he reassures and something inside you sighs. This is what made him such a necessary force for you. He handled way more than you ever could. He moved through the world, headstrong and in charge. He was everything you weren't.

"Good day-" he says to the nurse manning the front desk, "I'd like to get my wife treated for a possible fracture or broken bone-"

Wife.

It rings through your ears.

Meanwhile, kind eyes- genuine, human eyes- look at you from across the desk. You realize then how little contact you've had with anyone normal. Anyone real.

"Poor thing," the nurse murmurs and your heart tugs at the kindness drenched in her voice.

"Alright, Sir, it's just-" the nurse gestures towards the rest of the waiting room, "We're just busier than we usually are for a weekday so you might have to wait a while-"

"You have medical aid?" You enquire softly, letting your side bump against him. "Who the hell are you?"

He stares down the small woman as he reveals a glistening card from his wallet. She quickly looks at you before she tentatively takes the card and types away at her computer.

Somehow, up until this point you had fooled yourself into believing you were on the road to autonomy, that going to university and being a woman in her 20s away from home meant you were finally obtaining sweet sweet independence but in actuality... you were just a little girl, deluding herself into thinking the city might be kind to her. It's swallowing you whole. And you're being left to watch.

It made you aware of how completely vulnerable you had really been. You could barely afford rent, let alone something as luxurious as medical aid. For all your time in this city you tried not to get hurt because medical bills would eat you alive and here he was, whipping a card out.

"Right this way-" The little nurse moves from behind the counter, and almost immediately, you hear a distinct uproar in the waiting room behind you. "I think doctor Park will see you, but we'll first head over for X-Ray and-"

"Hey!" The sound startles you, causing your shoulders to tense as you grip on your Salesman's forearm, making sure he's still there, "We've been here for 4 hours," You meet the haggard glassy eyes of a middle aged man. He's scowling at you as if you've committed a grave murder right before him.

"I'm sorry, Sir." The nurse begins, her voice filled with concern, "This hospital is legally obligated to help out those with medical aid first-"

Shoes click against the cold floors. A shadow descends as your Salesman steps forward as if protecting you from the man's vehemence. Time stands still in the moments he makes his venomous proposition. A proposition so vile it nearly had you vomiting here all over the hospital floors.

"My wife needs a new heart-" he begins, gesturing to a woman- a ghost seated in the chairs behind him. Her skin is practically translucent as she stares off into space. "Who knows how much time we're wasting while we're being forced to wait here-"

"Are you up for a game of rock, paper, scissors by any chance?" Your salesman asks, causing your heart to sink. The man examines him as if he's grown a second head.

"If you win a single round against me, I will pay for your wife's medical treatment. New heart." At the peroration of his incredibly insensitive and evil proposition, your Salesman smiles.

"One round." He says, before his eyes snap to the woman pulling at her husband's arm.

"She doesn't look too well," The Salesman pouts and you walk up towards him, limbs shaking as you whisper-yell in his ear, feeling all your nerves being shot out of you.

"Jesus, you're fucking disgusting."

"Birds of a feather-" he whispers back, before refocusing his attention onto the man.

Meanwhile the nurse tries to pull you away but you're rooted to the floors. This whole ordeal makes you realize that you've never actually seen him interact with normal people. It makes you wonder where he goes when he's not with you. You'd almost believed that he's a fragment of your delusions, something your lonely brain cooked up to make you believe someone in this city cared about you. But he's real. And he has a life outside the two of you.

"Don't you wanna help your wife?" He continues to tempt the man, "Look at mine-" the Salesman said, gesturing to you. "She's a little battered and bruised but she's alive. You're not dying any time soon, right honey?"

You rip your eyes away from him just as your nurse returns. She places a warm arm on your forearm and in the midst of the game, she places a card in your hand. "Let's go for your x-rays,"

While they play their game, you look down at the piece of paper.

Blink twice if the man you're with is the one who assaulted you.

Call it female intuition.

You have no idea what could've led to the fact that he was the one but the nurse is watching you with a heavy gaze and bated breath. You almost drown in the concern she holds for you, a mere stranger.

In another life, you might've had a friend like her. She's relatively young, budding with youthfulness, actually. You imagine she has a boyfriend. An actual one. One who holds her bag while she's shopping. One who kisses her. These kinds of people develop empathy. The ‘fixed people’. You can tell she knows love.

“I-”

“Rock, paper, scissors-”

You blink once before looking away and the nurse sighs in relief.

"Better luck next time." You watch with bated breath as the man draws a rock to the Salesman's paper.

𓂃

An oblique fracture, they called it. The thing that's been plaguing your left arm for a week has finally been given its name. You're walking out of the doctor's office feeling light and remarkably relieved to leave this place and all its people. He walks confidently beside you, having sat through the whole ordeal. He had been there as they fashioned the pink cast over your arm and he walks beside you now, like your own personal well-dressed shadow.

On your way out, you pass by the receptionist's desk, she smiles over at you but glares at the Salesman. Just as you're about to make it out, you hear her voice.

“You said she's your wife,” the woman speaks up, causing you both to stop. “I don't see a ring.”

Cold, white, fear runs down your spine and your hand that was in his, squeezes as silence envelops you both.

“Good Day,” is all he says with an amicable smile before pulling you along.

Silence enveloped you on your taxi ride over to the Japanese restaurant comfortably situated in the Gangnam district. He had been remarkably quiet in the taxi driver over and he is remarkably quiet now as you're being led to a booth in the restaurant. It's adequately filled with its patrons. Families and couples like perhaps you two were. You wonder if he has these thoughts…

“She did make a good point,” you mumble as you take a seat in the booth, watching silently as he slips in beside you. “If you're going to be telling people I'm your wife and they don't see a ring…”

He sets his briefcase in the booth beside you both, sighing softly as he mumbles, “People don't usually marry their toys, do they?”

Before you're able to respond, a waiter walks up to your booth, having his pen and notepad at attention as he asks for your order. You watch your Salesman expertly lay down your order, everything from yakitori, to miso soup to onigiri. It's mesmerizing watching him order for you and you suspect it had the same effect on you. His hands on your thigh squeezes slightly, while you silently let him order. In a moment the waiter vanishes.

“You're so old,” you say suddenly, trying to make up for the silence and the nervousness raging through your heart. This is the first time you're out with him in a public setting and its setting you alight with worry. “I'm sure you remember when Korea was under Japanese occupation,”

“Keep making your little jokes,” he says, sipping on his complimentary water as he allows his back to rest against the seat, “And I might not be so forgiving…”

His hand rests his hand on your thigh, it's the only thing you're able to focus on. How his fingers cover so much space. The sheer size of it. The sheer size of him. You feel so completely small beside him, you almost don't realize that he's begun talking again.

“My father fought in the war when he was ‘round about your age,” that brings you clean out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up to meet his but he's staring aimlessly ahead, as if reminiscing on something beautiful.

“Jesus I-” you swallow thickly, “That was a bloody war,”

He nods, momentarily removing his hand from your thigh to undo the buttons of his blazer.

“More than 3 million dead.” He says taking another sip.

“Right.” You nod, heart hammering when he places his hand back on your thigh. “2 million soldiers and 1 million civilians,” he places the glass back down on the table and he shakes his head slightly, twirling his index.

“Swap the numbers around.”

“Right…” you clear your throat, keeping your gaze locked on your lap, “That's... heartbreaking. I'm sorry.”

He turns his head, finally regarding you under the dimness of the hanging light fixtures. He tilts his head to the side in that way he does when he's particularly intrigued by you. “You are sorry, aren't you?”

You nod.

“But I have no idea why, you're not a Japanese fascist from the 40s.”

“No, but I have empathy.”

“Curious.” He replies back, before letting silence fall.

“Spread your legs,” he says so suddenly it gave you whiplash. Your head snaps up to him as you begin to plead.

He couldn't do this. There had to be some sort of refractory period in which he let your body recuperate.

“I’m in pain-” you grit out through your teeth, but his large hand is already seeping to the center of your closed legs, trying to pry them apart.

“Your legs work just fine.” He whispers, letting his mouth graze your ears, “Your cunt works just fine,”

You place a hand on his forearm. “The doctor said no strenuous activities.”

“Do you listen to the doctor or do you listen to me?” He asks, staring at you deep into your frightened eyes, forcing you into that liminal space of submission. Your eyes were brimming with not only fear but embarrassment.

“Spread your legs.” He whispers,

“I'm on my period,”

Another troubling moment of contemplation falls between you both and you're left to stare deep into each other's eyes as the restaurant's cultural music makes the ambience swell. It could be romantic, this energy that's festering between you two.

Even though you know it's anything but, you allow yourself to dip into those pools of delusion.

“You were fine this morning,” He says, and you note the grogginess that's begun to veneer his voice as he looks down at you.

Young, impressionable, darling you.

“I got it before we left, that's why I asked to use the bathroom again- point is,” you tug on his arm, “We can't.”

His eyes soften and for a split second, you think you see kindness there. Your gaze falls to his lips, anticipating the words they'd form.

“Spread your legs,” he says once more, before applying the necessary force to pry them apart yourself. “Let me in, Doll.”

A small whimper escapes you as you open your legs. You let him drift his hand under your skirt. His fingers are cold to the touch, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he inches them towards your cunt.

The second his fingers graze over your mound you gasp slightly before sitting forward with your head bowed. Your cast is behind the table as you hide your head in your hand. He watches you with heavy eyes, “It's rude to have your elbow on the table.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to muffle yourself by the palm of your hand. You feel him swipe your underwear away. You feel his fingers dip into the pool of wetness at your entrance. Wetness you knew was not arousal.

“Don't look at me like that,” you mumble, staring down at the table as his fingers rub against your slick folds.

“Like what?” He asks.

In your periphery you can see him hunched over you slightly, his eyes on you and you alone. It was tiring having his attention. And so incredibly dangerous.

“Like you wanna eat me alive.”

He bends down, letting his fingers graze over your clit as he whispers, “I do. That's all I wanna do.”

The waitress returns with your food and you mumble a quiet ‘thank you,’ While your Salesman keeps his gaze locked on you.

“Grind down on my hand,” he urges and you shake your head,

“Do it.”

“Or what?” That was probably the worst thing to say to a sadist who looks like he's brimming for you to give him a reason to hurt him.

“Fuck my hand or I'll fuck you.”

You were feeling particularly stubborn today. The injury, the nurse, the hospital, the man and his wife… you're disgusted with this man beside. It dawns on you then that you have to get away from him.

“You can't do that-” you begin to whine but his voice is like steel when he reolies, “I thought we've established that there are many things I can do and very few I can't.”

All is quiet.

“Fuck my hand or I'll fuck you, I've been dying to play in your blood.”

You're still wrestling with either of your options, trying to outweigh the good against the bad was impossible when both choices just seemed bad. It puts you at an unfair disadvantage and you are drowning.

“W-Wait-”

“Times up.” He mumbles before removing his hand from your underwear. You're utterly horrified to find it stained in crimson.

He calls over the waiter, at least having the decency to hide his bloody hand behind your back as he politely says, “My wife is quite sick, could I be pointed to the bathroom, please?” He sounds so amicable, so deceptively kind, of course the waitress quietly urges the two of you to the bathrooms nestled at the back of the resturant.

“I'll do it-” you breath heavile as he urges you past tables, “I'll do just-”

“You picked too late," he whispers in your ear as he steers you into the female bathrooms. “Disqualified.” He says before pushing you into a sta. You could only thank your lucky stars that the stalls are empty but that is where you luck runs dry.

It's only you and your monster who's fervently unzipping his pants before locking you both in a cubicle.

“My arm hurts-” you begin but he turns you around, pushing your back against the door.

“Your cunt still works.” He repeats, “I didn't get to drive a knife into it the last time-” he whispers hoarsely as he plays drunken kisses all across your collarbone. You hate to admit how dizzying the effect of his kisses are. How they carry you off into a completely different mental state- where everything becomes morally grey. You felt like you could get off to almost anything in this state and so you don't bat an eye when he says, “I need to see your blood on my cock,”

In fact, you moan, trying to find your bearings as you slip so far into subspace. “You're not allowed to pass out on me-” he says, manically, breathing oh so heavily as he pulls his cock out over his slacks. “I'm not even using any of our favorite toys, you do not get to pass out.” He warns before slotting himself between your legs.

“W-wait- pull your pants all the way down, otherwise-” you hiccup, “I'll make a mess.”

A deep and low groan reverberates through his chest and you watch him lower his pants all the way down, revealing sculpted legs before he brings his cock to your cunt. It's wet enough to allow him to slide in smoothly, and he looks down between you, pressing down on your tummy as he watches your blood soak his cock.

“Here taste your blood,” He's prying your teeth open and you let him. Crimson floods your mouth and you moan around his fingers. There's a manic sort of edge to his laugh as he admits, “I’m not gonna last quick.” before he's kisses you deeply, grinding himself into you

“Fuck- you're filthy.” His eyes are absolutely insane as he drives his cock into you setting an unforgiving ppace. He snaps his hips against you, trying to drive his cock in further and further.

“Cum- I'm gonna cum-” He pulls back to urge, just as you hear someone walk into the bathroom. He's breathing heavily, surprisingly being mindful of your cast as he dips his hand down to your cunt. His fingers drag across the blood like it's the most fascinating thing on earth, and that has you cunt tightening around him.

A toilet flush, just as a whimper seeps through your lips. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you take his brutal fucking, watching him stab your cunt with his cock like he's daring himself to break you.

You place a hand on your mouth, muffling your violent cries as you buck your hips against him. Your own period pains that were flooding your system is beng fucked away. Your thighs and his pelvis are absolutely stained in crimson and his eyes are rolled back. Thankfully, the door opens and closes and you are alone once again.

“I love playing in your blood-” his voice cracks. Meanwhile, he's using you like a ragdoll. Through it all, you manage to ask the question plaguing your mind.

“Did he…” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut as the tip of his cock grazes your cervix, “Did your dad make it back?”

He rears his teeth, smiling in that twisted way that was far different from the smiles he gave everyone else. Only you got to see him like this. “Yes, Doll, he did.”

“W-What happened to him-oh god-” he picks up his pace grabbing your hips and pulling your cunt down on his cock.

“I killed him.” His eyes roll back into his skull and your mouth falls open. His cum floods your system and in that same moment his pelvis grazes along your clit, triggering your orgasm. You cum with tears in your eyes and it fills you with unmistakable dread.

If this man was capable of ending someone in his own bloodline, who were you in his eyes? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Don't look so scared.” He whispers, still grunting as he emptied himself inside you, “He was useless. You- you're not useless.”

He kisses your face. Everywhere he can.

“You look like you're about to have a panic attack. Compose yourself.”

You breathe in thickly.

In and out.

In and out.

[superhoeva]

the 141 boys with a crying reader is eating me aliveee

the first time you cry in front of gaz is an accident and that man turns into the softest thing you'll ever meet. maybe it's a bad day at work. or a rude dick at the store you stopped at on the way home. regardless, he's allll sweet cuddles and coos. shushing you while kissing your wet cheeks, mumbling that it's gonna be alright, lovie. 'm here, 've got you, yeah?

silence. that's the first thing that comes when soap realizes you aren't faking it. those are real tears falling from your eyes and he's got to do something about it. there's an ache in his stomach when you lull against him, and the man's got to pull himself together before you're both blubbering messes. with no idea what to say, he opts for physical comfort instead. holding you almost too tight, hoping that you can't feel how fast his heart is beating at the sight of you so sad.

price spots the tears before they come. senses the energy in the air as you walk to him with slumped shoulders. what's this now, hm? the question rocks something inside you–breaks the dam–and collapses you straight into his awaiting arms. he ignores your whine when he pulls away, cradling your face and reminding you to breathe. in and out, darlin'. that's good, just breath with me for a bit. whatever it is this time, he'll fix it. make it better, and do the same thing the next time you come before him with a wobbly lip and watery eyes.

what's happened? who did this, i'll kill em. you can't find a break in your cries to answer simon, and this makes him sober a bit. finally, it takes him a second to realize that that's not what you need to hear right now. that version of him isn't who he needs to be right now. so he stuffs down the anger and replaces it with a palm against your back and cradling of your head with the other. he stands completely still, as if you'll break, and stays that way until your sobs revert to soft sniffles. don't 'ave to tell me right now, love, okay? just don't pass out 'n me, alright?

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚