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#I lean towards he was blackmailed/manipulated
flamedoesart · 2 years
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Ya know the c!ranboo debate would be better if we all just agreed that there is both no evidence that enderboo doesn’t support c!Dream and there’s equally no evidence that enderboo does support c!dream.
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Day 29: Coercion/Blackmail - Dark!Marauders
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Summary: They were waiting for the ideal chance to find you alone and the perfect opportunity arose when they saw you on the Marauder's map as you were sneaking around the Restricted section of the library.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, mean!marauders, Slytertherin!Reader, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, threatening, scent smelling, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, restrained, panty sniffing, masturbation, nearly caught, dacryphilia
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
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“Well, well, well boys, look who we’ve got here”, James boasted, shuffling over to where Sirius and Remus sat on either end of the Gryffindor sofa, leaving enough space for him to squeeze in between. The Gryffindor Seeker sat with a smug grin on his handsome face as he displayed the Marauders map for both of his friends to see, pointing directly in the middle where your name hovered.
“Is she in the restricted section of the library?” Remus asked, leaning closer to James to make sure that what he was reading was true.
James looked between Remus and Sirius, still grinning so wide that his cheeks ached, “Yes, she is, Moony. Our slithery little friend seems to be sneaking around in naughty places that she shouldn’t be”.
Sirius sighed heavenly, his body melting back into the overused cushions of the maroon sofa. “Today really is my lucky day”, he admired, all the cruel intentions flashing through his mind with the opportunity presented to him. You were their favourite plaything and had been since the first year. Being in Slytherin, you were natural enemies with the Gryffindors, but as much grief as they gave you, you were always quick to give it back, so it was a constant repeat as to who could best the other.
Now, the opportunity was too perfect for them to pass up on. There you were, in the middle of the night, in the restriction section of the library with no one around, and oh, they were more than ready to confront you. James thought about bringing along his invisibility cloak, but as they were all grown, there wasn’t much space to squish them beneath, so it was easier to use the map to see if there was anyone on the route that they would bump into.
You cursed quietly under your breath; you hated the restricted section. It felt so eerie and dark. However, you were researching some unsanitary subjects that couldn’t be found in the books without chains wrapped around them. Lifting the lamp above your head, you continued to search for the relevant topic, keeping your breathing slow and shallow to listen for any signs that one of the Professors was on patrol nearby.
As you searched through the third row of books, you heard the shuffle of multiple footsteps. Your heart immediately jumped into your throat as you blew out the candle in your lamp and rushed deeper into the restricted section to hide in a dark corner.
“I’d stop running if I were you, little snake. We know you’re here”, Sirius taunted with a cheerful tone to show how delighted he was to be in this situation.
The tip of your wand, defiantly pointing towards them, was what they saw first of you as they held up their wands for light. “What the fuck are you three doing here?” you asked pointedly, rolling your eyes and relaxing the tension that had built since you’d heard the noise.
The three Marauders gathered around you, forming a semi-circle, boxing you into the bookshelf. Even though the four of you were always at loggerheads, you weren’t actually threatened by them. In fact, things between you were borderline between enemies with benefits. They were always upfront about their attraction to you and would frequently tease you because of it. So far, nothing had occurred other than fleeting kisses, but every time the four of you were alone together, the tension was palpable in the atmosphere. You enjoyed this cat-and-mouse game that had developed; even though they were beautiful men, you couldn’t think of anything worse than sleeping with Gryffindors, especially with the rising suspicion from the other Slytherins.
Lowering your wand and tucking it into the pocket of your robe, your eyes flicked between each of them and sharply asked, “How the fuck do you three always find me? Are you stalking me?”
The back of James’ fingers stroked across your cheekbone. A touch that you didn’t flinch away from but gently shoved his hand away as he reached your jaw. Shaking his messy black hair, James smirked, his hazel eyes devouring you in the darkness of his lamp resting on the bookshelf beside you.
Remus’ head condescendingly tilted to the left, “We were just worried for your wellbeing. The restricted section isn’t exactly a welcome place for students”.
It was your turn to develop a smirk as you looked over his body, remembering the event from last week. “You know better than most that I can look after myself, Lupin”. Last Tuesday, he’d accidentally stepped into the way of you practising a particularly brutal jinx during defence against the dark arts.
Remus’ eyelids lowered, so he looked at you through his eyelashes, “I didn’t properly thank you for that one, did I?” Even though he was being sarcastic, you didn’t miss the severe undertone to his baritone voice.
“Poor Moony here had to spend the night in the hospital wing. You’re lucky he’s still just as handsome as before”, Sirius mocks, reaching to grip his friend's face and shaking his head for emphasis until Remus shoves him away.
Once more, you’re rolling your eyes at their antics. “Well, maybe Lupin should watch where he’s walking next time I practise spells”.
James shifts closer as he stands to your left, his body casually leaning against the bookcase, “So hostile tonight, Princess. Do you need some way to get your anger out? I know the perfect way”.
Your eyes seemed to be in a constant state of rolling, finding James’ words more annoying than serious as he licked his bottom lip suggestively.
“Maybe I don’t like being interrupted when trying to do something important. So, why don’t you three run back to your little Gryffindor hiding hole?”.
James cocks his head to the side as he looks back at Sirius and Remus, who has stepped even closer, causing the apples of your cheeks to warm at the increasing temperature, even in the creepy section of the library.
“You know, Moony, I do recall you being head boy”, James casually remarks to Remus, who grins, the pink scars that were still healing down his cheeks stretching with the movement. Glancing down, he held up the shiny pin attached to his pristinely knotted tie, showing you the badge.
“You’d be correct about that, Prongs”.
Sirius now steps forward, mimicking James’ stands, but this time to your right, leaving Remus between them and directly in front of you. “I’d love to know Moony. What would the head boy say to a sneak snake wandering around the castle in the middle of the night and the restricted area no less?” Sirius asks with a fake, quizzical look on his handsome face as some of his long hair slips from behind his ear, causing a sinister shadow to hide part of his smirk.
“Well, Padfoot, I would say to that certain little snake that she was breaking a handful of school rules and deserves to have points taken away from her, a weekend of detentions and the head of Slytherin to be woken and informed”.
You scoff, looking between the three of them as your arms folded across your chest. “Ha ha. You’re hilarious, boys”, your voice is laced with sarcasm, “Your scare tactics won’t work with me”.
“Oh really?” Remus continued, stepping forward and raising his hands to rest on either side of your head, pressing into the chains surrounding the books as he dropped his head to be eye level with you. “The thing is, Love, I’m not joking. Why would I abuse my powers like that?” Glancing over his shoulder to Sirius, he asked, “How long do you think it would take you to get to Slughorn’s office? A couple of minutes?” he turned back towards you. “I’m sure he could get there before you do. Professor Slughorn will be very interested to hear why his favourite student is walking around the restricted section in the middle of the night, don’t you agree?”
Your stomach twisted with unease as your confident exterior began to crack. “Why the fuck would you three care where I am? It’s got nothing to do with any of you. I could just as well wake up Professor McGonagall and tell her you’re all out of bed”.
Remus purses his lips as he fakes contemplation, but it is Sirius who speaks next, joy evident in his voice, “Ah, you see, the thing is beautiful; there’s three of us and only one of you. All it would take is one of us to hold you here and another to go and wake our friend Sluggie. And oh, would you look at that? There’s still one of us spare to help hold you down”.
Your heartbeat begins to increase, causing palpitations beneath your ribs as your anxiety begins to take over. “You guys aren’t funny, you know. You’re wasting my time.” You attempted to keep the facade up that you weren’t bothered by their words, but you knew they weren’t messing around.
Remus suddenly grips your cheeks, causing you to startle and jolt at the rough hold he had, squishing your lips out and forcing your eyes to look only up at him. “We aren’t joking around. We think it’s about time the Slytherins stop getting away with everything, and what better example to use than their silver star? I’m sure you’d continue to be everyone’s favourite when I take away; hmm, would 50 house points be sufficient?”
Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you stepped closer to him, now toe to toe, and the tips of your noses nearly brushed together as you tried to look as vicious as possible. “50?! What the fuck is your problem, Lupin?” As you spoke, your fingers reached into your robe to grab your wand, but James was quicker, muttering expelliamous and catching your wand with his nimble fingers.
James tutted, shoving your wand into his pocket within his robe, “You know, Moony, I think another 10 points for the bad language might be a good idea. Why don’t you do that, and Padfoot will go and wake up our favourite potions master?”
You were breathing at a dizzying pace as you looked away from Remus to watch with fear as Sirius began to strut away, his arms swinging leisurely. “Wait! Wait, please!” Sirius stopped walking, turning to look over his shoulder to show you the dazzling smile and quipped up his eyebrow as he waited for you to continue. “What- What do you guys want?” you couldn’t help the stutter, shoulders dropping in defeat as you slumped back against the uncomfortable bookcase.
The long-haired Marauder swaggered back over, delighting evidence on his face as he returned to leaning beside you. A single finger grazes beneath your chin, hooking onto the end and tilting your face towards James as he bragged, “You know what we want”.
Of course, you knew, it was all they ever asked with their perverted minds, always talking with their dicks and then their hearts. It had always been a joke because that was all you had taken it for, a hilarious, sleazy joke.
“That’s always been a joke, so quit playing around”, you say, but the fighting your voice has dimmed.
“Does it look like we’re joking?” James asks.
“So what is this? You’re all blackmailing me so that you can get your dicks wet? I’m sure there are plenty of other pathetic girls who would be more than happy to do what you’re asking”, you say with as much venom as you can muster, but there was no denying the core-clenching pulse that ran through your pussy.
“Oh honey, you know it’s not our dicks that we want to get wet, and there’s no other cunt we’d rather be licking than yours”, Sirius says, tilting his head up to talk in his sweet purr that had your thighs squeezing together in an attempt to relieve some tension that had increased tenfold in your clit. All three of the men in front of you noticed the movement and had to adjust their stances, seeming to be as tall and intimidating as possible, but that only made you more horny.
With all of the previous times that they had made sexual advances, they had not once mentioned their own pleasure. All they’d ever asked and begged to do was have a taste of your pussy.
‘Give us a taste’, ‘I bet you’re nice and sweet’, ‘I can get you gushing against my tongue, Princess’.
It was always comments like these that had you either jinxing them, rolling your eyes or simply walking away to the comfort of your bed, curtains closed so you could imagine the acts with your fingers between your legs. It was almost a daily occurrence that you masturbated to the thought of the three of them in your bed, and it would be easy just to give in and say yes to their requests. Still, you would never lower yourself to sleeping with a Gryffindor, let alone the three most arrogant and infamous students throughout Hogwarts.
However, now you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You knew that if you said no, you could have the detention and deducted points, and they would happily walk you down to Slughorn's office. But, to be truthful, there was a small part of you that was becoming bored with the cat-and-mouse chase, that part being your cunt.
Sirius replaced the finger under your chin, turning you to look up at home, “So? What do you say? We don’t expect anything from you, but each of us gets a taste, and we’ll let you go on your merry way”.
You sigh through your nose, chewing on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer, even though you know already what you are going to say. “I know I’m going to regret this”.
Sirius moves so close that you can see the different shades of grey in his eyes, “Trust me, Sweetheart, you aren’t going to regret this for a second. I can guarantee that”.
Your eyes flick between his and his dangerous lips, a movement that has him grinning and showing his perfectly pearly teeth, knowing your answer because you even say it.
“Fine. But I’m not touching any of you, and after, you have to promise that you’ll let me walk away without losing any points or waking up Slughorn”.
“Your wish is our command, ma’am” James dramatically bows to add to the performance.
Your sigh brushes over Sirius’ face as you move back to look at them individually. “So how do you want to do this? Shall we go to a classroom or something?”
Remus shakes his head, nodding towards your skirt, “Take off your underwear”.
Okay, so they were expecting to do it in the middle of the restricted section of the library. You were thankful for wearing a skirt to keep some of your modesty as you shimmied the material down your legs and stepped out of it. Before you could hide them in your pocket, Sirius was snatching them from your hands and stuffed them into his back pocket.
As your mouth snapped open to argue with him to give the underwear back, Remus was distracting you by dropping onto his knees. As he lifted the edge of your skirt, Sirius and James grabbed onto a leg each and lifted you to sit on the shelf of the bookcase, holding each limb up until your knees were as close to your chest as possible, spreading you open for Remus.
All you were able to do was hold onto the sturdy shelf above your head, fumbling with your words with how embarrassed you were to be completely exposed to them all as the positioning of your legs now pushed your skirt away.
Remus groaned hungrily, taking a deep sniff as he leaned in close. You gaped at him, internally cringing and embarrassed that he was actually smelling your arousal. Before you could tell him to stop, his hands were roughly parting your folds, presenting your dripping hole further for him as your hips bucked at the contact. It was filthy watching him stick his long tongue out and lick a long strip from your perineum up to your engorged clit.
His big green eyes never left yours, and you were captivated by looking away, crying out and needing more as it truly dawned on you that this was actually happening. Remus seemed to simultaneously be touching all parts of your cunt with his wet, wide tongue, digging into your clenching hole, slurping out the juices that were seeping out and then lewdly sucking on your bundle of nerves until you were whining from the overstimulation.
It was all Remus had ever wanted, and it seemed he was good at it, and for a second, you regretted all the time wasted having said no to them all. Your fingers dropped to hold onto his head, keeping him close and using it to try and buc your hips to ride his face, but with the men holding up your legs, it was difficult to move.
If he was spelling your name with his tongue against your clit, he was delving it as deep within your cunt as possible. The noises coming from both you and him were filthy, and it took an embarrassingly short amount of time before you were cuming, eyes closing and head tilting back as your walls clamped down around his tongue in quick bursts of euphoria. 
He didn’t stop stimulating you until you were slumping back against the books, and Sirius was quick to drop your leg and replace the positions with Remus, dropping to his knees in front of you as Remus stood, still licking his lips and holding onto your leg.
To their credit, they only used their mouths, and for a minute, you had contemplated begging for more, but your ego kept your lips sealed tightly. Sirius didn’t give you any time to try and catch your breath before he had his own taste, his mouth warmer than Remus’. With his tongue sticking out, he shook his head like he was trying to dig his way right into the centre of your core.
Your fingers were sliding through his silky hair, pulling on him to try and get him to slow down, but he liked the pain that came with the hair pulling, so it only pushed him on further. Sirius's hands rested on your hips, pulling your body onto the edge of the shelf so he could move his face harder against you. As he fucked your pussy with his tongue, he pushed the tip of his nose against your clit, sending scorching pleasure into your abdomen.
Just as you were on the very brink of an orgasm, Sirius’ mouth disappeared from you entirely so he could watch your body tremble and pulse with the need to cum but not be given the proper stimulation for it.
“Fucking hell Sirius, just let me cum already!” you hissed at him, losing some of the control over the situation.
Sirius doesn’t say a word, but he does laugh heartedly as his face attached to your mound once more, delving between your folds and licking until you were cumming with mind-spinning pleasure.
James didn’t even wait until your orgasm had subsided before he pulled back Sirius’ head and shoved him out of the way, dropping to his knees and beginning his feast. Sirius didn’t argue with him but stood to hold onto your leg, the lower half of his face gleaming with juices and pink from being rubbed against.
The glasses on James’ face were cold against your skin as the rim of them pressed into your mound. He gathered as much spit onto the tip of his tongue and let it drip over your pussy, spreading it around with his tongue until you were as sloppy as possible.  This only added more pleasure to do, feeling how wet everything was down there, the whisps of air cooling certain areas before he was back sucking and licking at it.
Just as you were getting into it and falling into the pleasure that was causing your body to jolt as you were becoming extremely overstimulated, a heavy thump sounded from the entrance to the library. A breath later, all of the lamps were extinguished by Remus’ wand, descending you all into darkness as you anticipated them all to stop. Except, they didn’t. James continued as if nothing had changed, but now his hand was covering your mouth to help keep your moans muffled.
You were beyond tense, hands shoving at any body part of the three men you could reach, trying to stop them from holding you in place. A faint light glowed from a few rows away, and to your horror, you realised just how close you were to being caught by one of the professors, being held down and eaten out by three men.
It was so overwhelming that a few tears escaped the corner of your eye as a quiet sob slipped from your chest. Remus pushed his body in closer, “Shhh Princess, it’s ok. Once you cum for prongs, this all stops”.
Thankfully, as he finished talking, the light began to disappear, and the Professor decided there was no use checking the restricted section as there was never anyone this far into the room. With the light gone, you could finally lose control, still crying as James sucked violently for as long as he could against your clit until you were bucking your hips and flooding his mouth with squirt as you came hard.
It took a long couple of seconds for your pussy to calm down from the orgasm, but even as your walls stopped contracting, they still continued to throb in time with your heartbeat. Your entire body was aching, especially your legs and chest from where you’d been crying. The lights of their lamps were illuminated once more to reveal James looking at a piece of parchment, announcing that the coast was clear. You didn’t have the energy to ask what he was holding as Remus and Sirius helped your feet back to the ground.
With your legs now together, you could feel just how swollen and puffy your clit and folds were from being poked and prodded by three mouths. Your knees also struggled to hold your weight as you clung to Remus, who helped you stay upright and find the energy to stand by yourself.
For once, there are no condescending or mean words coming from him as he gently cups the back of your head and strokes the space between your shoulders in calm circles as your sobs slow to a quiet hiccup.
Eventually, as the clock tower bell chimes to symbolise that it is 2 a.m., you are able to pull away from Remus, wiping the wetness from your face with the back of your robe and then straightening your skirt. Glancing over to Sirius, you held out a hand to him and a hand to James.
James gave you back your wand, but Sirius simply patted himself down and looked at you with a frown, “Hmm, seems I’ve lost your underwear. Sorry, Princess”.
You don’t have the energy to argue with him as you sigh, “You don’t tell a soul about what’s happened here.” You point your finger at each of them, but James responds.
“Wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. But I will be dreaming about you tonight when I’m touching my cock with your taste still in my mouth”.
Your face heats with embarrassment as your eyes trained on the floor, lifting your lamp and beginning to limp away, trying to hold as much dignity as possible. Still, it was difficult with how uncomfortable and sensitive you were feeling, depending on bookcases to lean on as you made your way out of the library and back towards the Slytherin common room.
As soon as you are out of sight, Sirius sighs, dropping hushed back against the bookcase you were just leaning on and unzips his pants, pulling your underwear that he hadn’t lost from out of his pocket and holding it up to his face. With his cock free, he has no shame as he touches himself vigorously and, in a matter of seconds, cums all over the floor.
Remus frowns, looking down at the thick globs decorating the floor, “Really, Padfoot? You couldn’t wait until we were back to the dormitory?”
“I’ve never had blue balls like that in my life. It was fucking hurting Moony, give me a break”.
Remus shifts his own cock in the restraint of his trousers as James says over his shoulder, “She's heading straight towards  Filch. Shouldn’t we go and stop her?”
Rems peers over his friend's shoulder, looking at the open Marauders map and watches as your name floats towards Filch. The tallest Marauder shrugs, “No, it’ll teach her a lesson about being out of bed after hours”. They all share a dark grin and begin to gather their stuff before walking out of the library.
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danytar · 14 days
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“His Weakness” [King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader]
Warnings: Incest, vulgarity, expletives, murder,cussing,swearing, Mention of kidnapping, no use of y/n.
Summary: It is common knowledge that the king’s guards must protect him and his family, but this is not what happend with the king’s wife...
a/n: the scene is quoted from daenerys and daario bath scene.
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You were relaxing in your tub inside your own chambers with your lady-in-waiting around who was fill your cup and rub your shoulders softly, you closed your eyes and sighed quietly. Natalie was chatting with you and joking. You loved her sense of humor.
“You have a wonderful choice of perfume, my queen.The King must be wild tonight”.
You opened your eyes and looked at her with a fake frown and a shy laugh “Natalie!”. she chuckled and I apologized to you saying “Apologize, my queen I shouldn't talk about the king that way ”.
“It's okay”. you replied with a small smilie then you closed your eyes again and leaned your head on the tub to return to your little bubble again.
A few short moments of relaxation were brought back by the sound of a small gasp coming from your lady-in-waiting.You opened your eyes and turned to find your sworn guard holding her with his dagger at her throat.
“No screaming or she dies”. he replied and looked at you. Natalie was looking at you in pure horror as she waited for you to do something.
“What do you want?” You respond to him in a stern tone, your eyes staring into his eyes with all boldness and defiance. You don’t want to let fear get to you now.
“you”. He answers you with a cheeky smile and takes off his helmet.
“Let her go!”. You command in your usual tone.
“Don't scream lovely girl”. He leaves Natalie to come back to you and stand behind the sink...behind you. You reply again, “I didn’t expect you to betray me like this sir frederick”.
He smiles at you and then says “What they say my queen.. A pinch from a friend hurts more than a blow from an enemy”.
“My husband will castrate you and feed you to his dragon”.
“I'm afraid he's very busy at the moment.Your dear husband is about to lose his dear queen”.
You can't believe the blacks stoop to this level are they really going to blackmail and manipulate aegon by using you as his weaknesses? You are in a difficult situation and you do not know what to do, and your lover is not around to save you.
You slowly stand up from your tub, letting the water drip off your naked body. You did not break eye contact with the guard As you appeared before him in all your glory, Natalie rushed to bring your green nightgown.
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“I intended to talk to you more, my queen, but as you know we have a long way to go”.
“Oh? Do you think I'll let you kidnap me?”.
After your last comment, he grabs you by the waist and puts you close to him, then puts his hand on your throat and his other hand holds a dagger near your face. You felt his grip on your body.
“My queen, you have a very beautiful pussy and I want to taste the royal pussy but not now.. Let's go to Dragonstone first”.
“The king will have your tongue for this!” Natalie responds.
“Your drunk king is not here”.
Natalie quickly leaves the room and opens the door to find another guard standing at the queen's door When she tells him and asks him for help, he grabs her by the hair and brings her back to the room.. “Did you catch the silver whore or not?”. he replied.
“We're ready, just open the passage for us”. Frederic responds to his colleague with a cheeky smile. Meanwhile, a maid suddenly opens the door and sees you there tied up and about to be kidnapped. She quickly closes the door forcefully and runs towards the throne room. to fetch your husband.
Frederick's companion throws Nathalie to the ground and quickly moves towards one of the walls of your rooms to open the passage. You gather all your strength and kick his cock hardly.
He winces in pain and screams at you, then collapses on the ground in intense pain. “YOU WHORE!”.
“Natalie, get out quickly! ”. You yell at her.
“My queen-
“GET OUT! ”.
Natalie gets up from the floor and grabs your hand to quickly leave the room, but Frederick's colleague leaves the corridor and comes back to catch you. You throw things in his way But he gets closer to you... You let off her hand and move across the room like a mouse trapped in a cage of cats.
You quickly grab the bottle of wine and put it behind you, and when he approaches you, you break the bottle in his face. The shards of glass penetrate his eyes and he falls to the ground bleeding.
When you think you have survived, Frederick pulls your hair forcefully and puts his dagger to your throat, ready to kill you at any second.
“Very bad girl.. If you were an obedient girl, I would reward you with my cock”. His stinking breath on your neck and his strong grip on your hair.
“Or I will cut off your cock and feed it to you.”
Aegon's raspy voice bursts into the room. The guard turns around, holding you tightly. Your eyes meet your husband's eyes You can't, but you feel a little safe even if you are still in the grip of this bastard.
“Oh, the usurper what a pleasure to see you”.When Frederick mocks your husband, his guards entertain their swords at him. Aegon's eyes burned with anger and his lips curled into a deadly frown.
“LET HER GO! ”.
Frederick smiles at the king's command and presses the dagger to your throat more, making you raise your head up so that you do not feel his pressure on you. You can see Aegon takes one step towards you.
“Don't come closer! one another step and I will slay your queen”.
“Don't you dare touch one single inch of her”.
“OR?”
Aegon sighs at the stubbornness of this idiot who knows how to play with his nerves and make him lose his temper. aegon once looked at you while you were in the grip of that bastard.
“I'll give you all you want, gold... I will make you a lord in the my court... just let her go”. Your husband's tone is almost pleading now. Frederick laughs sarcastically. He is not stupid enough to believe your husband's false promises that will disappear once he loses his grip on you.
“I don't want gold. Gold can't buy a beautiful woman like our sexy queen”. He scoffs and his hand slides down to press your chest to tease Aegon.
“DON'T DARE!!.. ”. Aegon growls at him angrily.
You look at Frederick and he looks at you with a cheeky smile.. When his face comes close to kiss you. You spit in his face. Which makes him leave you for a second.
You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and run to hug your husband hardly.Aegon holds you in his arms while his guards catch that traitor and his colleague who lost his sight because of your blow.
Meanwhile, everything around you disappeared. You felt like the world had disappeared, and you and aegon were the only ones present in the world. He placed his hands on your cheeks and looked at you with great concern and interest.. “My love, are you hurt? Did this bastard hurt you? ”.
He was examining your face, your neck, and your whole body.. You just smiled at him with your big, loving eyes and shook your head.He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, your cheek, your nose, your eyebrow, your ear, your neck, his lips, and everywhere he could find his way.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips hardly.. You kissed each other as if it was your last day.. As if there was no tomorrow.. The kiss lasted a while longer, neither of you daring to break it.
You didn't care if you lost your breath with his kiss. There is no doubt that it would be an honorable death to suffocate on the lips of your beloved...
When you both broke the kiss, he kept you close to his chest, not allowing you to move or move away from him. He looked at the guard and spoke in a harsh tone “Take this bastard to the dungeons, I will deal with him myself”.
The guards nodded and pulled the traitor and his colleague from your room to the dungeons. when you were left alone, he looked at you and gently stroked your hair, then hugged you back to his chest.
“If I was a minute late, I would have lost you”. He whispered in a low voice, his tone as if he was about to cry.
“My love, please.. The important thing is that we are fine now and the matter is over now? ”
“What if it happens again and I'm not lucky enough to save you?”.
“It won't happen again”. You look into his eyes and wipe away his tears “I won't let them take me away from you”.
If he has a weakness, it is you... his greatest weakness no wonder the blacks would have broken his wing by taking you from him and threatening to kill you.
However Aegon won't let them take you and he won't leave you alone again. You will be in front of his eyes all the time from now on...
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– Taglist ♡ : @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Five- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Throat Fucking, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Begging, Spitting, Gagging, DubCon, CNC.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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"Yes, Wednesday stays the same, but I've added Friday evenings for potions." You said, shutting the creaky wooden door behind you as you trailed inside the empty classroom after Mattheo. "I've already informed Professor Dumbledore."
"But, Raven...Friday nights are for the fucking boys." He grumbled, a playful yet frustrated pout on his lips as he practically threw himself into the chair. "You've absolutely sewered me here."
You cocked an eyebrow. "Sewered?"
"Yeah, you know...you sewered me...it's the clean version of 'you fucked me'," he said, staring at you as though you were an alien with three heads. "I would have just said that but we both know you've never fucked anything..."
You rolled your eyes. "No need to be so crude, Riddle."
"Crude?" Mattheo smirked, his eyes widening with sheer amusement. "What's going on with you, princess? You finally get into the club of your dreams and now you're back to being all uptight? Trying to impress someone, perhaps?"
You were on the verge of scoffing, ready to roll your eyes so far back that the inside of your skull would be your view--but then, he stood up, advancing toward you with an electrifying intensity in his eyes--a look that effortlessly stalled your breath, seizing your lungs and making your heart race without the slightest effort--and you already knew you were doomed, your defiance cracking more with each one of his footsteps.
"Guess that just means I'll have to loosen you up a bit, yeah?" He purred, gripping your jaw and directing your eyes up to meet his. "After all, my pretty little slut still has a job to do..."
Your mind reeled. My pretty little slut. The first two words were almost enough to make your stomach wind up in your goddamn feet. Not only did he call you pretty, but he fucking called you his.
"Yours?" Your voice was a mere breath as it left your lips. "Did you just call me yours?"
"I did, Raven...because it's true..." A smirk curled upon his lips, his eyes deepening into pools of darkness as he pulled you closer by the grip on your jaw. "You know it, and I know it."
"N-no..." You stammered. "It's not."
Mattheo paused, his gaze fixated on yours, a flicker of something primal dancing behind his eyes, sending a shiver down your spine that seemed to reverberate through every inch of your body.
"You sure?" He snickered. "Who else do you get on your knees for every fucking week?" His tone dropped into a low whisper, tilting his head slightly as he scanned your face, free hand finding purchase on your hip. "Who else touches you like this?...or kisses you like this?..."
With a tenderness previously unseen, Mattheo tilted your chin up, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours--once, then twice, and finally, a third time before he pressed the plush entirety of his mouth to yours--his movements so gentle, so incomprehensibly tender they made everything around you fade into insignificance, your lids fluttering shut as his mouth worked over yours. The sensation in your chest grew stronger as his hand cradled your jaw, ensuring your lips remained connected to his while his free hand traced a path around the small of your back, pulling you snug against his frame.
And as you melted into the kiss, your mind reeled with the reality of the situation. You couldn't deny the whirlwind of emotions inside you as the two of you continued this potentially perilous game; a game where the line between obligation and necessity blurred into an indistinct haze.
You knew you fucking despised this boy, but you weren't naive enough to deny that the line between love and hate was a very thin one to begin with. You were well aware that your heart was teetering on the brink of destruction, and caution was your only lifeline--so with trembling fingers, you gripped the wrist to the hand holding your jaw, exhaling a shaky breath as he pulled back, dark eyes searching your face.
"Please, don't do that, Mattheo..." you whispered, swallowing the lump of anxiety in your throat. "If you have even the smallest ounce of respect for me, you'll stop that."
His brows pinched, his hand falling from your face. "What am I doing, exactly?"
"Complicating things." You said, trying with everything in your power to keep your voice steady. "When I agreed to this, I agreed to helping you get your release and that's it...I didn't agree to whatever the hell is this is...whatever this has become..."
Mattheo huffed, seemingly amused. "And what has this become, Raven?"
"I-I don't know...you're acting weird...being possessive, calling me yours...I think you know exactly what you're doing, and I think it needs to fucking stop..." your voice was trembling, your brain telling you to stop fucking talking, but of course your mouth had other ideas. "This is what you do to every girl, I've heard your story countless times. Your little act won't work on me."
"My little act, huh?" He sneered, not even attempting to hide his arrogance. "All of that sounds like a you problem, Raven...maybe you need to be honest with yourself..."
Your brows furrowed, heart pounding. "What are you talking about?"
"You're falling for me," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I see it in your eyes...you know you can't fucking resist me..."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes until you were seeing white. "Please, don't you dare flatter yourself..." you said, sharply--the words simply flowing from your lips without even a mere second of consideration. "I would never fall for the likes of Mattheo fucking Riddle...the schools best-known delinquent who blackmailed me into becoming his little pet, only for him to harbour some obsessive need to bloody own me and keep me as his with nothing but selfish intentions...I know I'm just a body to you, and nothing more."
"What did I tell you about denial, Raven?" He sneered, his eyes darkening and jaw tightening, seemingly dismissing your last sentence. "It's highly unusual for the schools most uptight little good girl to spew such amusing lies like that...guess I really have rubbed off on you, huh? Wonder what Dumbledore would think if he found out?"
"Get out of my fucking head, Mattheo," you hissed, anger searing your skin now, kinking your neck back and leaning in until you were as close to his lips as you physically could be without touching. "You think you are possessing me...but what you fail to realize is I've already sunk my teeth into you...you're as much mine as I am yours."
"Mm." He murmured, leaning closer. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?"
"Go to hell," you breathed, your mouth brushing against his.
"Only if you come with me." He whispered against your lips, before shifting toward your jawline and grazing up toward your ear. "Someone's gotta suck me off while I'm down there."
Amused, you couldn't suppress a laugh, shaking your head at him. "You have no right having such a smart fucking mouth, Mattheo Riddle."
Mattheo's smirk deepened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "My tongue makes up for what my brain lacks, princess...perhaps you'd care to find out?"
Your lungs stalled, fingers trembling. You knew what he meant by that, and almost instantly your body was torn in half--one half of you screaming excitement, the other half screaming in nerves.
You exhaled, ignoring the tingling in your cunt. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Undoubtedly, but I'm certain you'd like it more..." he purred, voice a low, seductive murmur. "And about yesterday, don't mistake my possessiveness for weakness, Raven...I still can't bloody stand you, but I will admit that I have a clamouring need to fucking ruin you."
"I can't stand you either, Riddle." You said, without hesitation; breath hitching as his teeth grazed your ear. "It pleases me to know that the feeling is mutual."
"It's settled then." He hummed, tugging on your earlobe, hands slithering to your hips. "I hate you, and you hate me. Let's see who hates best, yeah?"
Your stomach twisted, leaping with excitement. "Oh, Riddle...I promise you, you won't win..."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, princess..." he whispered, head tilting. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."
Your breath hitched, a potent surge rushing through your veins, a blend of anticipation and something far more primal. Your hands instinctively left your sides, fingers finding the cool leather of his belt, and with a bold tug, you pulled him closer, feeling the tension in his body as he stiffened against you. His reaction confused you slightly, but when his eyes locked onto yours, there was no trace of hesitation--only an intense, unbridled hunger that mirrored your own.
You tilted your head, your voice a sultry, whispered invitation. "Why don't you fucking show me, then?"
Mattheo's eyes darkened, his grip on your hips tightening like a vice, pulling you fiercely against him. "Salazar fucking save me, Raven..." your hands glided up his chest, finding solace on his shoulders. "You are one hell of a fucking mystery..."
You smirked, a hint of challenge in your gaze. "Am I?"
"You should have never come near me...you should have ran the second you heard my fucking name..." he whispered, his stare penetrating yours, deadly and serious. "Now look at you..."
"Yes..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath, "look at me..."
His chest heaved in shallow bursts, synchronized with your own erratic breathing as he inched closer. His long lashes danced as he blinked, his gaze lingering on your lips, each glance feeling like an eternity passing in mere moments. Your lungs seemed to stall, captivated by the profound depth of his eyes--which, despite their rich brown hue, held a mesmerizing quality akin to the brightest hazel you'd ever seen.
And as you lost yourself in the depths of his eyes, it was there that you found the essence of the sea--deep, mysterious, and boundless--drawing you in like an irresistible tide. This is how people drown, you thought. Stupidly diving headfirst into eyes like his.
"I warned you that I was bad for you..." he murmured, one hand slithering up your side, finding your chest and softly grazing over it; forcing a small whimper from your lips. "But here you are...the sweet little angel...unable to take her fucking eyes off the devil."
As he teased your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and the sheer lace of your bra; you gasped, a low, needy sound escaping your lips while your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching toward his with an insatiable hunger.
"Mattheo..." your voice came out as a soft plea.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips parting in a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Raven..."
"Please," you implored, your tone laced with desperation. "Just fucking kiss me."
Without a fraction of hesitation, Mattheo's hand seized the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he captured your mouth in a kiss so fervent and scorching that your teeth clacked together. A guttural groan reverberated from his chest, mingling with your own soft gasp, while your fingers found refuge in his unruly chocolate curls, tugging him closer. His lips moved against yours with a possessive hunger, as if he sought to devour you entirely through the kiss--the intensity surged, amplifying as he skillfully shifted your position, pushing you back against the desk until your ass met its edge, urging you to perch on top of it.
The cool wood raised gooseflesh over your bare thighs, but Mattheo's hands quickly worked to soothe them, one slipping under your skirt and gripping your hip, tugging you closer to the edge while the other kneaded your tits, his grip possessive and needy; turning the kiss primal and hungry.
Long fingers circled your nipple, groaning as he felt it harden under his touch, and you mewled into his mouth at the foreign sensation, your entire body engulfed in flame as his mouth moved to attack your neck, tongue tracing heat as he nipped at the sensitive skin, another aggressive shiver rippling through you.
You were trembling, hardly able to withstand the collective sensations of his teeth on your neck and his fingers toying with your nipple--your thighs screaming with need as you moaned, head absentmindedly falling to the side to give him better access to your neck.
"Mhm...so good for me..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat. "You like that, princess?"
Your lids fluttering, heart pounding, fingers trembling as you gripped the fabric of his shirt for dear life. "Y-yes..."
He hummed, nipping your ear. "Yes, what?"
As he pinched your nipple between his fingers, you yelped, the pain eliciting an intoxicating mix of sensations that made your eyes roll--desperately wishing you could press your thighs together in desire of sating the insatiable need between them.
"Yes, Mattheo..." you whimpered. "Please..."
At your plea, Riddle stopped everything, his body turning to stone as he pulled back--brows pinched, throat knocking as he swallowed, eyeing your features with enough intensity to scare the breath from your lungs.
"What are you asking for, Raven?" His voice was a low, almost imperceptible rumble, despite his lips being mere inches away from yours.
Your lungs stalled, words fleeing you. "I...I-"
He seized both your hips with a commanding hold, pulling you tighter against his chest, his lips crashing back into yours in a momentary, fervent kiss. As he pulled away, he inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes locking onto yours with an even greater intensity than before.
"I'll ask you one more time, Raven," he whispered, his voice threaded with both desire and restraint, the aggression in his tone doing inexplicable things to your body. He inhaled again, slowly releasing it. "What are you asking for?"
Trapped within the depths of his stare, you sat there, a battlefield of emotions raging within. The yearning for his touch was an overwhelming tide threatening to drown your senses, yet fear clung to you like a vice, squeezing your heart with icy fingers. Each heartbeat echoed with the dread of consequences, the turmoil of what could happen if you succumbed to this raw desire.
The unspoken tension between you two hung heavy, an electrifying charge in the air that crackled with unfulfilled longing. Both of you stood on the fragile edge of control, teetering between surrender and restraint--wanting to give in, but afraid of what might be lost in the aftermath.
Yielding to him using your mouth felt transactional, a physical act detached from any emotional involvement. He might have been your first in that aspect, but the experience held no sentimental value. He was merely exploiting you. However, the second his hands ventured into uncharted territories, bestowing upon you a pleasure unprecedented and unimagined, you both knew that moment marked a line crossed--a point of no return.
"I...I don't know," you whispered, your voice a mix of vulnerability and desire, eyes locked onto his with unwavering intensity. "I have no idea what I'm asking for."
In a heartbeat's pause, Mattheo's world seemed to hang suspended--his eyes, intense and filled with desire, blinked once, then twice, betraying a flicker of vulnerability before he swallowed audibly. His gaze, magnetic and hungered, fell to your chest, tracing the curves beneath fabric as one hand shifted to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his pants. His eyelids fluttered like the wings of a trapped butterfly, a deep, slow exhale escaping his lungs as if he were attempting to regain his unraveling self-control, time stalling until he seemingly collected himself and met your stare.
"For both our sakes, I hope you figure it out soon..." he said, taking a step back, fingers working at his belt. "Now, stand up for me."
Your heart thundered in your chest, an adrenaline-fueled symphony as you complied with his command, the sharp click of his belt being undone resonating in the charged atmosphere. Rising to your feet, you barely had a moment to react before Mattheo lunged, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse with a fervent determination, a hunger you had never witnessed from him before. The second your skin was bared, his eyes met yours, a mixture of desire and possession burning in his gaze--and with a gentle yet forceful grip, he cupped your jaw with one hand, and shoved two fingers past your teeth with the other.
"I just want to make one thing very fucking clear here, Raven..." his words dripped with intensity, his hot breath washing over your face. "In moments like these, when I tell you you're mine, I fucking mean it."
His tone was as dark as the midnight sky, a promise of dominance lingering in the air.
"Right here, right now, you belong to me--you answer to me, you listen to me, you are obedient to me...and this perfect little mouth," he emphasized, waggling your jaw in his hold, "...is fucking mine to command. Do you understand?"
Under the strength of his grip, you attempted to nod, desperate to convey your understanding, but your attempts faltered, leaving you vulnerable. An amused, devilish grin spread across his face as he witnessed your struggle, and in response, he shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag from your throat, his expression one of twisted pleasure.
"What was that?" He sniggered, relishing in your vulnerability. "Couldn't quite catch that, princess. Try again."
You struggled against his grip, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of desperation and desire. You couldn't believe the control he had over you. Although you'd never admit it, not to him, that is--you fucking loved it.
"I understand," you managed to say, your voice slightly muffled around his fingers.
"That's it..." he praised, his voice a low purr of satisfaction. "Show me your obedience. Stick out your tongue."
With his fingers still in your mouth, you struggled to comply, but somehow managed. He tilted your head back slightly, leaning down to spit into your mouth before he straightened your head and pushed his fingers deeper, the intrusion leaving you gasping for breath.
"Good girl." His lips parted as he watched you. "Now do your job and suck.”
With unwavering determination, you enveloped his fingers, your tongue dancing around the coarse skin, lids fluttering shut as you lost yourself in the submissive act. As you hollowed out your cheeks, your head moved along their length, following the rhythm dictated by his desires. Mattheo's hand, which had been gripping your jaw, released its hold, traveling down to his crotch--his face flushed with heat as he watched you, captivated.
"Fucking hell, Raven..." he breathed, tugging his pants down his thighs, forcing another gag from your throat before he pulled out his fingers and cupped his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit."
When you did, he hummed, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into the smooth skin of his shaft as he eyed your exposed chest; which was heaving rapidly in attempt to gulp down air.
Mattheo snatched your hair, bringing your mouth dangerously close to his, his hard cock pressing against your belly. "Are you going to be my good little slut and let me fuck your throat as hard as I want? Hm?"
You swallowed, nerves tingling. "Yes, Mattheo."
"Yeah?" He exhaled, you could tell he was testing his self control. "You like being used like that? My smart little Raven likes to be throat fucked like a dumb, mindless whore?"
Your stomach twisted, your thighs fucking screaming for his touch. How the fuck does he do this to you. "Yes, Mattheo..."
"Fuck..." his grip on his cock tightened, stroking his length with increased motion as he watched you. "You want to beg for me, baby?"
Your heart palpitated, your knees nearly giving out from under you. That nickname fucking did something to your cunt. Something so disgustingly dirty you could only hope the four founders couldn't hear you now.
"Gods, yes...Matty, please..." you whined, practically throwing yourself against him, ignoring the pain he was inflicting on your scalp. "Please, let me suck your fucking cock."
Mattheo's entire demeanour shifted, and if you thought he was possessed before--that was nothing compared to this.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" he growled, his voice so deep it scared your bones from your body.
Your heart plummeted to your feet. "I...I'm-"
"No, no," he hissed, cutting you off, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again."
"Oh..." You were utterly speechless, your voice barely a whisper. "Matty...please.."
"Fucking hell..." he groaned, immediately shoving you down to your knees by the hold on your hair, stroking his length in a slow, languid motion as he waited for you to settle. "Open up for me, princess."
Both hands shot into your hair, holding you still while he rocked into your mouth, and you hummed, peering up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at his exasperated appearance. Your tongue pressed to the underside of his dick, earning a growl from his chest, and he jerked your neck back, sliding in deeper.
"Yeah, that's it..." he breathed, voice strained. "Take this fucking cock."
Groaning, your lids fluttered while you drooled onto him, slicking your saliva down his length, bobbing your head while you struggled to keep your attention trained on his face. His cock filled your mouth, the tip poking your soft palate, and you sucked, revealing in his sharp intake of air as you pulled back for a moment.
He adjusted his grasp, urging you back and forth on his cock, making you gag. "Mhm. Choke on it, fuck-"
You moaned against his shaft, hardly even realizing that you did, but the sound awakened something inside Mattheo, and without warning he yanked your head back further, shoving his cock down your throat in one aggressive thrust.
You retched, choked, vision flooding with tears, but with him handling your hair like reins, he trapped you there, your mouth a helpless hole for him to fuck. He snapped his hips, his dick bulging in your neck, his breath labored with the pace of his thrusts. Sweat spilled down your back, and you retched again as his cock twitched on your tongue, cranked your jaw wide, plunged in and out of your throat.
"Fuck..." he said, sighing your name.
The sound of your actual name leaving his lips did something indescribable--you couldn't remember the last time he's actually said your name, actually addressed you by anything other than the Raven nickname he seems to love so much. Your lids fluttered, and admittedly, so did your heart--with this realization, you moaned again, and his hips bucked hard, earning a stifled retch from you.
Without warning, he crushed your nose against his skin, sinking into you, cock pulsing between your lips as he shot his cum down your throat. He groaned--low, deep--head bowing and breath sputtering as he watched you take his release.
"Swallow it," he hissed, chest heaving, eyes feral. "Swallow my fucking cum, slut."
You winced when you swallowed around him, and he twitched and cursed with every ripple of your throat.
Finally, his breath stilled, and he pulled out, moaning when his cock slipped between your lips. Able to finally catch oxygen yourself, you devoured the air, wiping your puffy lips and saliva-slicked chin on the back of your arm. Riddle hovered over you for a moment, gaze roaming your figure while he tucked himself away, not daring to look away as you pulled yourself up to your feet and started re-buttoning up your shirt.
"Good girl," he mumbled, switching focus from your eyes, to your breasts, to your lips. "Come here."
The instant his words left his lips, his powerful grip snaked around your wrist, pulling you towards him. Time seemed to freeze, your lungs momentarily forgetting their function as you stood there, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. With a deliberate gesture, he tenderly brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes scrutinizing your face intently, searching for something elusive that you couldn't quite grasp.
"You okay, Raven?" He whispered, not blinking as he met your eyes.
Your throat was more arid than the desert, your fingers trembling against his chest, but you nodded. "Yes, Mattheo..."
"Good." He exhaled, releasing you. "When do you meet with my brother?"
An inexplicable fear twisted your stomach, a sense of foreboding you couldn't put into words. You felt his shift in demeanor, waiting for your response, and despite the fear gnawing at you, you tried to conceal it. Summoning a halfhearted smile as he pulled out your chair for you, and sat down in his.
"Tomorrow night."
Mattheo's jaw tensed, and he nodded, flipping open the textbook as he remained silent.
——————-
Here’s chapter six so you don’t have to scroll back to the top. Xoxo :)
973 notes · View notes
moechies · 5 months
Note
may i please request reader breaking up w sukuna but sukuna doesnt want to and blackmails reader w pictures of them fucking!!! (if its okay, can sukuna not use the "whore/slut" nicknames bc im not so very comfy with those D: but still make the fic cnc!!!!!!
i love this sm <3 planning to add onto this, but this is just a drabble for now!!
cw dubcon noncon, coercion, manipulation/blackmail, pet names “little one, baby, sweetheart” implied bj, dacryphilia
“really little one? yer sayin you wanna break up? with me?”
“y-yes ‘kuna. y-you’re not good for me..”
“yeah? you really think so? you’re too naive baby. i’m the best thing you have, don’t ya realize that? “
his voice makes you want to curl up and hide. it’s so condescending, you can feel the tears building up in your throat. it’s so much worse when he begins to walk towards you with a malicious smile on his face, because you can never read him. he could kill you with a finger.
before you get to reply to him, he pulls out his phone, dragging up a photo of you. but not a normal photo no,
it’s a photo of you being fucked. an image of your sweet fucked out face with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, his huge hand pressing onto your thigh and compared to your little one trying to hold onto his finger. there’s cum all over your tummy, but the bulge in your stomach from his cock is still apparent. very apparent.
his cock is covered in your creamy cum, and the flash shows off the glimmer of sweat on your tits. the unbeknownst image repulses you, quickly pushing away his phone,
“k-kuna! s-stop!”
you hate it, but you begin to feel the tears falling down your cheeks once again. you move further away from him pressing onto a wall, giving him the perfect chance to corner you.
“yeah? want me to stop? why don’t you take it back n tell me you love me? and say yer sorry, maybe i won’t leak these pretty pictures to your sweet little friends.”
you rub at your eyes, desperate to pull yourself together and say what he so desperately wanted to hear, but you can’t.
“cmon, i’ll give you one more chance.. yer just asking for it now.” he grips tightly onto your wet cheeks, so tight it almost hurts.
“m s-sorry kuna…. n-never meant to break u-up with y-you, m-m really sorry, please.. i love y-you..”
“there’s my good girl. you’re jus a dumb little baby aren’t you? you would be nothin without me, alright? i could take care of you forever.”
and his words provide you with a sense of security, thinking that maybe he isn’t that bad. his thumb runs over your wet cheek, wiping the stray tears off your face before he leans into your ear,
“s time for you to make it up to me sweetheart.”
is all he says before you feel a harsh push on your shoulder.
814 notes · View notes
youaremyhome · 5 months
Text
Pieces of the Night: Synapses Between the Stars
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Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!
Notes: 4.0K ya'll I cannot apologize enough for how long it's been! I won't bore you with the mess of my life but just know i am continuing this story with love and excitement. thank you to everyone who is still reading and for being patient with me!! love ya ❤️
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The threat lingers in the air like a bad odor. Your face scrunches up with more tears as you reluctantly nod. A child-like fear encapsulates over you, fingers slowly untwisting from his pants. Rafe’s half hard as you find comfort in his pacifying touches, his hands massaging down your scalp to the nape of your neck.
As much as he’d love to stay in this moment, the tackiness on his dick is uncomfortable so Rafe tucks it in with a zip. He urges you up, but you give a small wince. Rafe hums questioningly, following your eyes down to the trickle of blood at your right knee.
“Oh, Angel. You’ve hurt yourself.”
Directing you down in a chair, he parallels your descent into taking a knee before you. Your palms wipe clumsily at your soaked cheeks, skin irritated from the salt and constant rubbing.
A small shard of glass pokes from the hard base of your knee, embedded from the hardwood floors. Dark red borders the clear glass, tinting it an ombre of maroon as it spreads itself. Running a hand up the curve of your calf, his fingers knead at the fat and muscle there. With his other hand, he pinches his thumb and index together to pull the fingernail-sized glass out. It plinks on the table.
Rafe pouts up at you, jutting out his lower lip before kissing your shin right at the end of the blood trail where it fattens like a dew drop. The taste of your essence seeps through his lips and nourishes his soul. Flattening his tongue, he slides it up to the wound and leaves an imprinted bloody shape of his mouth there. He thinks of clowns, the ocean, anything to will his dick to stay down, the metallic aftertaste of you marinating all over his tastebuds.
You don’t flinch as Rafe cups your face, hiding it instead in the palm of his hand as you keep crying. You’ve never cried this long before and Rafe wonders if the surge of fluctuating hormones is to blame. Stroking the tears away with his thumbs, you two stay like that for a long moment. Rafe waits patiently until you're fully nestling into his touch, allowing him to lean in closer and smell the shampoo of your hair as it tickles his nose.
Though he does love your crying, the best part of it is the aftermath. Where your mind is drained from the climax of emotion, a shaky little thing made to be wrapped up and taken care of.
He coos your name with gentleness, with forgiveness. Kissing along your face to clean up your tears, your puffy lips are malleable against his. Pulling back with a small smile, he checks over your splotchy face. Squishing your cheeks together to purse your lips, he kisses you again. It's a mockery of a true kiss. Using your docile state to his benefit.
Carefully, Rafe stands up to lead you toward your bedroom. With one step, there’s a dull stab at the sole of his foot. Lifting his foot up and to the side, the yellow kitchen light reflects off the culprit. More glass. Flicking it off, he detours you to the couch instead, bundles you back up in blankets, and takes a step away. A pull to his shirt stops him.
You look like you hate yourself for asking in a hoarse voice, “Where’re you going?”
His chest swells. Rafe thumbs at the apple of your cheek. “Goin’ to clean up, baby. Relax now, alright?”
With an approving nod, Rafe starts to scan the floor. Following it like breadcrumbs in an exploding trail of broken glass, his gaze is led to the opposite wall stained dark with rivets collecting down to the baseboard. The water has mostly contained itself to the site of the explosion, glass escaping all the way into the dining room and under the table for refuge.
His rose-tinted hue mutes into stark colors of remembrance.
Of when he was little but always a big brother. Before Rose and when Wheezie was a baby, a time when it was only Ward. Hiding a smaller blonde before himself.
It’s like switching on LED lights, his serenity dissipates into a crumbling headache. Memories attempt to suppress him into the black hole he calls home for days on end, where the craving of something stronger blankets him. Rafe blinks rapidly and then searches for a dustpan. Sweeping is second nature to him, like an instinct he’s forgotten about because now a maid does it.
The twinkling of broken glass is a familiar sound and as all the pieces come back together so does a fear that there’ll be a figure imposing behind him. One that is stronger and angry about the mess. Jerking his head to the side, Rafe finds relief because there is no shadow looming over him, no deep bark of a voice to cower from.
It’s the back of your head. You, right where he left you. Waiting for him.  
He thinks you’ve fallen asleep from how quiet it’s been but when he rounds the corner of the couch you peek up from beneath the blanket. He can’t tell if the tug at his heart is from affection or shame. Propping your legs over his lap, he leans your head against his chest as his arms wrap around you.
It’s strange and silent. Your face is dry now, sniffling every so often as you tiredly cuddle him. Seeking comfort from the emotional edging he’s provoked today. Rafe rubs your arm and leg with periodic squeezing. Nose borrowing into your hair he pecks kisses there, a warm buzz tickles the tip of his nose.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe’s voice cracks. You feel breakable in his arms. “sorry, sorry, sorry…”
The front door closing wakes Rafe up in limbo. There’s a kink in his neck, warm with the weight of you on him. Multiple footsteps sound, coming closer until there’s a halt and hushing.
“Aw, look at them.” Is whispered before there’s a shuttering click.
“Andi, shut up, you’ll wake them.”
As the presence of your roommates’ fade and so does his consciousness, Rafe knows he’ll do anything to keep you like this.
🌙
The first day of spring break is unlike any other Rafe has ever experienced.
Last year this time, he was in his family’s house in the Bahamas with endless coke and flowing booze, and dozens of college kids roamed free in the sprawling mansion. Now, he’s with Ward going over the plans of construction and the partners included.
And oh, isn’t it a delicious surprise to be standing in front of your father. Shaking his hand with a professional smile. The same one he used a day before to shake his fingers into your soaking cunt, making you squirt for the first time. It was the best parting gift you could’ve given him.
Did you know your father would be here?
“Rafe…” Your father’s eyes shine with slight recognition. “You have class with my daughter, don’t you?”
“Yes sir, I do. She’s a very smart girl.”
Rafe knows it’s not the right time to indulge how well he knows you, so he lets the topic slip past. He scrutinizes your father in the initial meeting between the three of them. He speaks highly of his work, the people he’s worked with, and his family. A soft confidence that doesn’t command respect but receives it naturally. Ward boasts about the many properties he owns on the island, how he’s benefited the community and the people that look up to him, calls Rafe his ‘right-hand man’. It annoyingly pleases Rafe, even if this is the first major project Ward’s let him in on.
Presenting himself with respect to your dad is a top priority. Uses his good ol’ southern charm.  Shows obedience while inserting his ideas in meetings, makes nauseating small talk during lunches. Throughout the week, Rafe homes in on impressing your father while his own falls into the background. Once prayed-for compliments from Ward are forgotten words now that your father laughs at his jokes, slaps his shoulder in comradery. After too many, sirs and Mr.’s your dad insists that Rafe call him by his college old nickname, Cruiser.
He almost can’t believe how good the week goes. Rafe stays (mostly) sober. Ward doesn’t belittle him. Your father announces that he’ll be staying in the OBX for the summer.
That little tidbit doesn’t reveal itself until the end when Ward schedules a tee time to celebrate the success of a good partnership.
Weak rays of the morning sun cast long shadows. The humidity gathering warns of warmer weather later, giving the perfect excuse to hydrate with beer. It’s all play and no business. Your father is a chatty man as Rafe lines up with his club to the ball.
They’re on the 8th hole and Rafe has a good buzz, enjoying the game. The times he’s played with his dad in the past had been riddled with competitiveness, dampening the mood each time. Your dad absorbs that attention as he’s been parring better than Ward. It's entertaining to watch Ward struggle to trap down that ugly streak. Rafe could care less about scores and the like, he appreciates that Cruiser personally invited him to play with them.
“…Lauren’ll be off somewhere doing whatever. Wife’s excited to come back,” Cruiser takes a pull of beer and says your name, “She’s so busy with school I haven’t had much chance to ask her.”
Rafe’s ears twitch. Widening his feet again, he arcs the club up slow…
“But I think she’ll enjoy the summer here.”
The twitch in his shoulders is to blame for the bad shot, hitting the ball too high and not far enough.
Rafe mutters a swear into his shoulder, wiping his chin there. He steps away with a casual shrug, switching with Ward to stand next to your dad.
“So, uh…ya’ll be here for the whole summer or until the projects finished?”
“I like to stick around until the project's done.” Rafe becomes conscious of the fact he’s staring at him when Cruiser side-eyes Rafe. “Not too sure what her plans are after graduation, but it’ll be nice to have her here for a bit.”
Ward butts in. “And the Mrs. okay with it? What about her job?”
“Oh, Cotton doesn’t work.” Cruiser only refers to his wife as Cotton. And here Rafe thought his family had weird names. “We’ve been doing this sorta thing for about ten years now. She likes it. Seeing the country with my girls is my favorite time of the year.”
“Hm.” Ward’s eyes gleam with longing. “Wish my daughters took more interest in hanging out with me.”
Rafe rolls his eyes, taking a swig of his beer to hide it. It’s a practiced move he’s learned to perfect over the years. He can’t prod into the subject of you now with Ward sugaring it up into parenthood.
“How’d ya’ll meet?” Rafe asks with strained politeness.
“In undergrad through mutual friends. She was the sweetest thing to everyone but wouldn’t give me the time of day.” Cruiser laughs heartily.
“Playin’ hard to get,” Ward jabs in.
Your dad shakes his head, laughter tailing off into a scoff. Rafe doesn’t think Ward notices the dismissal, too busy dicking around with practice swings. “Just had to prove myself to her…”
Ward gets a nice shot in, staying in his pose as he watches the ball sail and then land in a sand pit. Rafe would’ve laughed if his interest wasn’t already pinned somewhere else.
“How’d you do that?” Rafe asks as he adjusts his cap.
Ward cocks his head in Rafe’s direction with an inquisitive eye as he steps away from the tee. Cruiser goes to his golf bag, skimming around the many clubs. He carries himself with loose movements and talks as he decides on which club to use.
“I could tell you all sorts of things, son.” Sliding one out, he gives it a short toss-up in the air then catches it. “Most important of them: compromise.”
“Compromise?”
Is he sure he wants to get dating advice from your father?
“All there’s to it. That simple.” He confirms, correcting the white ball to stay on the tee. With ease he lines himself up, stance relaxed with loose hands. “I’m from the east coast, wife’s from the middle of the Midwest. So, after graduation, we stayed in California. That’s compromise.”
He takes a few faux swings, whistling a tune like Rafe isn’t hanging off his every word. Cruiser sways his hips playfully as he says, “You shift from one side to the other until…”
The strike of the ball is unexpected, soaring into an arc surpassing Wards. The ball bounces twice on the green, yards away from the hole.  
“Balance.”
🌙
You’re wearing a skirt today. It makes Rafe's jaw tick.
Once the weather started warming with the southern sun, you had worn a skirt to class. A modest thing just above your knees and plain, paired with a light sweater. How did you not expect Rafe to concentrate solely on it throughout class? To walk his fingers on your bare thigh, hook his knuckles to tug at the fabric. It wasn’t his fault that it fits you so perfectly with a flouncy hem and fitted waist. Every guy loved those kinds of skirts on girls, coy and causally hot. How could he resist such a sight?
But ever since that one instance, you hadn’t worn it since, not until now. Not until he skipped class because he arrived home late from Kildare and texted you that he wouldn’t be there to walk you to and from class.
He’s glad he changed his mind.
Catching a glimpse of you unguarded is rare nowadays. Sometimes, Rafe just likes to look. Look at the way your hair slips down, look at how your face wrinkles with your animated expressions. You make it hard to just look when you know he is. You morph into a rabbit, frozen with the instincts that a predator is watching. Still but poised to run.
Now, your shoulders are down with a smile as you exit the lecture hall with two girls. The skirt bounces with each step, a lively flap against your thighs.
“Hi, baby.”
The soft greeting has you drawn to a stop as Rafe slinks into your path, hidden by the stone pillar that leads into a small courtyard between halls. You’re flanked by the girls, overlapping chatter halting into one note.
“…Hi.”
It’s halfhearted but your voice is so much sweeter in person than over the phone. He recognizes the girls from the lecture. It seems like you’ve made friends in his absence. The three of you do that secret language of girl eye contact, one nudging you with a smile before they’re both bidding goodbyes, walking off without you.
Rafe likes you doe-eyed and alone. Lips chapped from the morning wind. You stand a foot away like you’ve been melded into the concrete.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you, o’course. I like your skirt.”
Rafe reaches out, tugging on the end of your skirt towards him with a melted smirk. Your resistance raises the hem, more skin bared as the skirt becomes more horizontal than vertical. The arousal in him amplifies as he pulls and pulls, your feet tripping twice as you’re forced into his space. He ends your cute protests with a kiss, lips warm against yours. The return of pressure from your lips thrills him.
“How was your spring break?” The ‘without me’ is swallowed down.  
“You should know…you only called me every day.” Tilting your head, your face is flat except for the tiny pull at the corner of your mouth.
Rafe kisses it, humming into your skin hoping to transfer the static that’s in his veins back to you. He pats small kisses over to your lips while one hand cups the side of your neck as the other scoops under the strap of your backpack, sliding it down your shoulder. Taking your backpack after class had become a habit born from preventing you from escaping. He slangs it on his shoulder to then intertwine his hands with yours. The ability to lock you in is a bonus.
“Is that so bad?”
“Y–”
“Aren’t you goin’ to ask ‘bout mine?”
You sigh. “How was your break, Rafe?”
“Oh, thank you for asking Angel. It was great. Saw old friends, surfed a bit.” Rafe watches your eyes glaze over to the left. “Met your dad.”
Your hand spasms in his. Your eyes snap back into place. It isn’t surprise or shock or unknown information you’ve been granted to coloring your face. It’s the dawning light of a premonition come true.
“You knew.”
Rafe’s voice is tight. The unexpected indigitation that flames his chest hurts more than burns. He anticipated this. Why he didn’t tell you over the phone about it, waited until he was face to face. You weren’t the best liar with his eyes pinned on you. His fingers mirror yours with strength until a whimper’s trapped behind your lips.  
“Yes.” Your voice is breathy. “I knew.”
“Any reason you didn’t tell me?”
“Many.”
“Cut the shit,” Rafe says your name with severity.
You puff out with annoyance that’s mounting to match his. Students pass by, rounding around the blockade you form on the sidewalk. One does a double take at Rafe’s curse. Grunting, he turns and marches into the empty courtyard towing you behind.
He should drop it. Wait until after he fucks you to bring it up.
But you knew.
A nag he should ignore eats at him until there’s only anger and hurtful pride. You’re still looking for a way out.
Snatching your hand away, you growl back at him with shoulders rising to your ears. Arms crossed at your chest and feet shuffle in place. Rafe ranks nails against his scalp, eyes ping-ponging along your face.
“This why you were a brat before I left?”
After the argument and the weeks leading up to spring break, you had continued questioning about Ward and his work. An anxious energy you radiated as it came closer. Rafe pegged you excited about him leaving.
The flick of your head to the side is the only verification he needs. You were expectant of their reunion.
“You didn’t…” You bite your lip. “Say anything to him, right?”
“No, I didn’t. Cause you’re gonna tell him.”
Your eyes widen until your lashes are practically in your eyebrows. Throwing your arms out to the side with closed fists, you lean with a shout. “Like the fuck I am.”
Rafe pitches your backpack behind him. Tension knots at the base of his neck, dragging a hand to roughly rub at it.
He keeps his voice flat. “When we go to Kildare, you can tell him yourself.”
“Oh-ho,” Your laughter is short and biting. “I am not going back there.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And you're so sure of this? How?” Your hip juts to the side, a hand propping on there to anchor yourself.
“Cause of that cute lil’ family tradition you got there.”
Your hand flips around, waving his sentence away. “I am a grown-ass person, Rafe. I can do whatever I want! And I want – I’m going back to California.”
You shake your head, the heel of your hand presses at your brow, blocking your vision. Rafe moves. Feet quiet on the concrete as he creeps closer.
“No, ya ain’t.” He seethes.
“I’m going back home after graduation! I’m never setting a foot back in this goddamn state!” You thrust a finger at him, inches from his chest. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Yes, the fuck you are. Or im gonna have to show everyone those pictures –”
The squeal abrupts from you, high pitched and echoing. “I don’t care! I don’t care anymore! Show whoever you want. I’ll be far away from you anyways.”
Rafe grits his teeth, molars threatening to grind into dust. Tilting his head up and shoulders down, he fights for eye contact as he works his jaw.
“And I don’t care what I have to do to fucking keep you.”
“I’m not some stray you can scoop up and lock in a cage.” Eyes narrowed and lip curled up, you push at his shoulder.
“Hm, a cage. That’s a good idea, baby.”
Lips thin in a tight line, he taps your check twice. He can’t help the dark amusement that tickles him when you jump in your skin, arms lashing out awkwardly.  
“Argh! You are so insufferable. After graduation you are never seeing me again, I promise you that Rafe.”
“Either you go with me, or I go with you.” Rafe starts circling you. Board body casting a shadow over you at every angle. You stay in place but swivel your head around to keep him in your sight. An airy touch of his hand has you flinching, him smiling. “You really want to be alone with me on the other side of the country? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“You’re goin’ to be working.” Your mouth gapes open. “Your dad will-“
“What, what? What will my dad do, Angel? You don’t know my dad. I can have him postpone this construction for fuckin’ months, years. Bleed your dad fuckin’ dry –”
“You can’t do shit. Your little power here doesn’t reach everywhere, neither does your dads.”
“You don’t know what my dad is capable of.” Rafe pokes his finger at your collarbone. “Clearly, you don’t understand what I’m capable of. Think of your sister, how would she feel if she can’t use daddy’s money to travel anymore?”
“You can’t –”
“Your dad loves his job so much, you really gonna take that away from him? Ruin your parents’ marriage? And your poor mom…”
Shoulders bounce against one another as you whirl as you growl. “Don’t talk about my mom.”
“Her sensitive little heart would be destroyed with all that grief.”
Rafe saturates you with too many words, too many worries to catch up to any of them. Circling again to face you, he twists his fist into your skirt. Hauls you closer until the hem’s dangerously high, giving him a glance at your black panties.
You squeak out his name, one hand on his bulging forearm as the other struggles to lower your skirt back down.
“I can take you right here. I don’t give a fuck if anyone sees me.” His hand dips to the inviting black curtain. Finger creasing between your seam, Rafe rubs it back and forth. “And I’d get away with it.”
Your chin wavers with failed words, body taunt from leaning back. A moment of silence as his promises solidify in your mind. A breath away from crumbling
Fists strike on his chest, a snarling show of teeth as you curse and fight in his hold. Calling him every name under the sun. A tantrum if he’s ever seen one. Your knee hits his thigh, missing your true target of his groin so Rafe spins you, bear hugging you in restraint.
“Pick one.” Rafe hisses in your ear, forehead pressed to your temple. “California or Outer banks.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’d drag you down with me.” He chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear.
Your head knocks at his chin as you give another thrash. Breathing compressed with his hold, you tire in mere minutes.
“Fuck!” A final shout. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Mm, go where?” The teasing tilt rolls off with victory.
“I’ll go to Outer Banks with you, you fucking prick.” Rafe loosens his arms just so, allowing you to twirl away with a heaving chest. Cheeks red and pointing a finger at him. “Until the end of the summer.”
Rafe scoffs, tapping at his chest. “Until I say.”
“When the jobs done.”
“Six months.”
“Deal.”
Both of you sigh rough and loud. Rafe feels a vein in his neck pulse with each luh-dub of his heart. Cracking his neck to the side frees a smile from him.
“See, sweetheart, I knew we’d be able to compromise.”
296 notes · View notes
clouddd-hannn · 10 months
Note
Can I request the dirtiest thing you can write about wonho and m!reader. Preferably where the reader is a nerd and wonho is a jock or himbo type boyfriend. Please and thank you!
PAIRING: Lee Hoseok (Wonho) x Nerd!M!Reader GENRE: Smut, Fluff WARNING(S): gay slurs, jock wonho, nerd x jock, wonho bullying reader, dubcon, manipulation, mentioned beating, power bottom reader, no foreplay, blackmailing, slight yandere theme (m!reader), exhibitionism, voyeurism, pervert Wonho, degradation, spanking, choking, orgy (?) SUMMARY: Wonho should've think twice before he masturbated to a girl's underwear. Or else he wouldn't have been caught in a very "hot" situation.
(P.S. THIS CONTAINS BLACKMAILING AND STUFFS. I'M WARNING Y'ALL)
(P.P.S. I don't exactly know what being "himbo" means, so I don't think I've portrayed Wonho as a himbo)
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"Ah, fuck.." The muscled man groaned as he jerked himself off in the girl's locker room, a pink underwear he stole from one of the girls yesterday was up his nose as he sniffed on it. "Shit," he moaned, gathering speed on his hand movements that was on his dick.
(bold) Holy shit. This smells so good. (end) He thought before he felt that familiar coil just below his stomach as his breaths became ragged, nearing his climax. "Oh god, fuck!" He groaned as he threw his head back and with a silent gasp, ropes of white strings came spurting out from his cock. "Hooooly shit," he muttered as he leaned on the locker, recovering from his high before using the underwear to wipe his cum-painted hand and dick.
Just then, a white flash blinded Wonho's eyes. This made the said male panic as he looked around, but to his dismay. Deciding that someone must've been there, he threw the underwear at a nearby trash bin and placed his flaccid cock back in his pants and exited.
(border)
You walked through the hallways with your books clutched closely into your chest, making sure to avoid every student that is close by. Fixing your glasses on top of your nose, you stopped before looking at the field, admiring the athletes that were busy playing soccer.
"Hey, look," you heard someone speak as they neared you, making you turn towards the owner. You looked down at your feet before offering a small bow and attempted to walk past them, but they were obviously stronger than you as they held on to your arm. "Where're you going?"
Hearing Wonho's voice, you looked up at him then just stared at him before looking away. "I-I'm off to class. Please let go," you pleaded but only heard snickers before they pushed you down, your books getting scattered on the floor. "Ugh."
Wonho smirked. "Aww? Off to class? Weren't you busy checking out the players, fag?" He spoke, you only grumbling as you fix your classes then attempted to get your books, but one of Wonho's friends pushed you down with his foot which sent stumbling back down.
"Please, I have to go. I don't want to be late," you pleaded but again it only fell on deaf ears as they only snickered and pulled you up by your uniform. "Wh-where are you taking me? I really have to go to class," you explained but the gang only teased you before you were all inside an abandoned classroom.
They pushed you down on the floor and began to beat you up with no remorse, all you could do was try to shiled yourself using your arms. And a little while later, with bruises evident on your back, neck, arms, legs did they eventually stop.
As they walked away from the scene, Wonho managed to catch that maniacal look on your face before they exited the classroom. "Let's go. We'll be late for basketball practice," he said as they ran towards the gymnasium.
Later that same day, the athletes (including Wonho) were finally done with their practice. Wonho was already changing into his uniform as he hung a towel over his drying hair. "Wonho, we'll be going first, man," one of his teammate said before saluting the mentioned male and exited the locker room.
At this point, no one else was inside the area…or so he thought. As he dried his hair, Wonho sat down and opened his phone, searching through the internet for women with big fronts. (bold) Damn, what'd I have to do to–(end)
A loud crash was heard from behind the lockers which startled the male, making him look around. "Do ghosts exist?" He muttered before going into a fighting position. "Come out! I-I'm ready to fight you!"
As soon as he said that, you walked out from the dark, eyes hidden behind your long fringes. Wonho rolled his eyes upon seeing you appear in front of him, arms crossed with a smug grin evident on his lips. "Oh, it's only you. What? You want to get beaten up again?"
You looked up at him, your eyes looking mad crazy before you lifted your phone and showed him the picture you took earlier. Wonho gasped and attempted to get your phone but you were fast enough to react as you retracted your hands and placed it inside your pocket. "Hey! What the hell?"
"You should know better than to jerk off in the girl's locker room, Wonho," you started as you neared him with a smirk plastered on your mouth. "Masturbating to a girl's underwear? Foolish and pathetic," you insulted the male before you charged at him and pushed him down on the floor.
The other male let out a surprised groan as he touched his bottom. Before he knew it, you were already on top of him which surprised him. "Wh-what are you doing?" Wonho asked and tried to get off but he soon realized that his hands were tried. "What? How…?"
"Don't let your guard down, Wonho. Out of your group, you've always been the dumbest out of them," you insulted him before placing your hands onto his pecs, squeezing them harshly which earned you a breathy gasp from the male, the smile on your face turning maniacal as you got hard at Wonho's reactions. "No one else can have you, but me. Only I get to be the one who you beat up, call me names, whatever. Just me."
Your words made Wonho shiver in fear as he tried to push you away. But despite your smaller stature, you wouldn't even budge an inch. "Are you insane? You're out of your mind, fag!" Wonho shouted but was soon silenced whe you began unzipping his pants. "What the—I'm not gay!"
You only laughed like a crazy witch as you went back to face him. "Look, Wonho. I don't think you know who is in charge right now. It's me, you can call me anything you want. Anything, and I'd be grateful," you pointed out before going back to undoing his pants.
Wonho could only sit there in horror, watching as you fish his dick out of his boxers. "For a talker, you seem pretty hard already. You sure you're not gay?" You teased him, using your index finger to tap the tip of fhe other male's cock.
"I'm not like you, whore," he stated but it only turned you on as you grinded your clothed member onto his exposed cock. "Hngh.."
"Wonho, I'm also hard. Aren't you happy? We're both hard for each other, it's like we're made for each other," you stated before you placed a hand on Wonho's cock, moving your hand up and down which earned you a breathy moan from the male. "Oh, you're getting bigger. I'm so glad I got myself ready before this," you commented, licking your lips as if you were staring at a five-course meal.
Then you stopped, Wonho's chest heaving up and down as he looked at you with red-tinted cheeks. "Wonho, you look so much delectable like this," you said, your cheeks colored the same as his before you stood up and begun to unbutton your pants, only feeling yourself get harder at how panicked the other male was.
"G-get away from me, bitch! Hey!" He shouted but you only neared him and squished his cheeks together. You looked dead straight into his eyes, your own eyes wide open in anger which scared the other male.
"You're gonna shut up or I'll make you," you threatened the other male who gulped but stayed silent anyway as he looked down at you. "Good boy," you muttered and patted his hair.
Wonho watched as you removed your pants and underwear, stepping out of them before going back onto his lap. "My hole is all ready for your big cock, Hoseok. I am so ready for you to pierce my ass with your dick," you stated as if you were in some sex frenzy.
The jock saw how you removed the plug that was placed inside your ass and dropped it down on the floor. "You're fucking crazy," Wonho said yet you only shrugged and lifted your hips, holding onto his hard dick as you lined it towards your entrance. "Fuck! I'm not gay, you whore!"
And like usual, you didn't listen to hi. and only prioritized your own pleasure. "We'll finally become one, Hoseok," you stated as you slowly slipped the tip of his cock into your hole, your face contorting into a pleasured look as you held onto the others v-line. "Here we go."
Just as you said that, you dropped your body down onto his lap and let out a loud moan, cumming on the spot as you threw your head back and arched your body in ecstasy, Wonho gritting his teeth at how impossibly tight your ass was. "So tight," he uttered out before you looked down at him and smirked.
Wonho couldn't deny the fact how he loved your tight walls hugged his huge cock. No one's ever managed to get it inside their pussies but here you are, taking it through your ass like a champ. "Fuuuck, your cock is so big. Do you like it, Wonho? Like it, dog?"
Somehow, that made Wonho's cock twitch inside you before he looked away and gulped. "Oh, slut. Don't be embarrassed. I'll give you everything you want," you pointed before you began to move yourself on his cock at a normal pace, Wonho looking down as to not let you see his reactions. "My god! Does my hole feel good, Wonho? Huh? I know it does."
"N-No way," Wonho stated but was taken a back when you took a hold of his huge pecs, making him moan as he clenched his fists behind him. "Get awa–agh, fuck."
You began to speed up, earning a few ragged breaths from the other male and satisfied groanas which never failed to make your cock twitch. "I'm gonna make you cum inside me until I'm full of it, until my hole takes the shape of your cock. And no one can ever satisfy you again, unless it's me."
Wonho could hear the seriousness in your voice as you said that, your words making him annoyed. "There's no way in hell that a fag's hole is gonna make me cum," he said with a snarl, looking at you. You stopped bouncing on his cock then smirked before you began to grind your ass on his lap. "Gh—ngh!"
"Really? Reallyy? Your cock is already twitching inside me," you said but was cutoff when his phone rang. You looked at him with a curious look, before it became a mischievous grin then you grabbed it from his bag and gave it to him. "Answer it. And tell them to come."
"What the fu—"
You accepted the call for him and neared him, placing the phone over his ear. "H-Hello?"
"Hey, Hoseok. The guys and I are planning to have a drinking party. Wanna come?" The guy started and before Wonho could even answer, you mouthed the words 'Invite them here' to him which he knew that he had no choice but to do so.
Wonho cleared his throat. "I'm still at the locker room—ah fuck," he moaned out as you unexpectedly began to move your hips, warming up his huge cock as you did. You heard a confused sound come from the other line before Wonho managed to get his composure. "C-come to the locker rooms, bye."
He stated before you ended the call and placed it beside him. "Now that wasn't hard, was it? As a reward, I'll take the binds off you. But if you so ever try to escape or hurt me, it's 'bye-bye' to your reputation," you threatened him, the other male gritting his teeth in anger before you chuckled and removed the binds on the other male's hands. "There, all gone--woah!"
In under one second, Wonho managed to get the upper hand as he pushed you down on the floor, almost folding you in two. A surprised look was etched on your face before it turned into a grin, you hooked your arms over the other male's neck and chuckled darkly. "I see. You want to take control?" You stated but almost flinched when Wonho slammed his whole length inside you, a loud moan coming out of you as you threw your head back and scratched his back.
"Like that, fag? Now I get to control this, not you. I'm only doing this as revenge," he defended himself and began to fuck your hole at a fast pace, eliciting sinful moans out of you. "You should know who you're messing with, bitch!" Wonho shouted before landing a harsh slap on your ass, making you gasp as you looked at the male with a lust-gazed smile.
You chuckled. "Oh my god! You're hitting all the right places, Wonho! Fuck me, fuck me harder! Deeper!" You exclaimed, already noticing the group of eyes tat were staring at you two behind by the entrance. (bold) Seems like Hoseok still failed to notice the other guys.(end) You thought, before you decided to tale things into your own hands. "What are you doing there, boys? Don't you see your team captain's enjoying himself right now?" You spoke up, making Wonho stop as he looked up and saw his teammates staring at you two, obvious tents in their pants.
"I-It's not what it looks like," he tried to explain but you cut him off.
"Oh it is what it looks like, Wonho. You're enjoying my boy pussy. Doesn't that make you…kind of gay?" You teased the other male but instead of pulling back, he began to fuck your ass again, making you moan and chuckle every time he hit those bundle of nerves inside you. "Fuck! Wonho, slow down. No one's taking you from me, we have all night."
The other male growled in anger before he let go of your legs and placed his hands around your neck, making your eyes widen but softened after as you threw your head back at the pressure around your neck. "Shut up! Shut up, fag! I'm not gay! I'm not like you!" He shouted, before you two were suddenly surrounded by his teammates. "The hell are you all doing?!"
They only stared at your blissful look before they removed their pants and began to jerk themselves off to the rhythm of Wonho's thrusts. Tilting your head to the side, you smirked and did a snappng action. "Seems like you all are pent up. My friends are waiting outside," you pointed out and just as you did, three boys entered the locker room and went down on their knees, the other boys immediately taking a place in front of them.
"Is this your plan, whore?" Wonho said before he fastened his pace, you locking your legs around his waist before you felt the pressure on your neck grow softer. "To make us gay? Huh?"
His words got you silent but you laughed like an evil witch and pushed him down towards you by his hair. "To make you gay? Hoseok, your teammates have been gay the whole time. Who;re you kidding? Even Hyungwon and Shownu, your 'so-called' best friends who beat me up earlier," you pointed out, the revelation making Wonho stop. "Why? Shocked?"
"Fuck you, M/N!" Wonho shouted and began to fuck your ass aggressively, your moans only growing louder as you pulled on his hair, your cock leaking more pre-cum as it bounced on both your stomachs. "Erk--ngh," he sounded, before his thrusts became sloppy and his brathing became ragged. "Fuck, fuck. Shit. I'm cumming," he announced before he leaned his head onto your shoulder and let his cum dribble inside your. You jerked yourself off and came a few seconds later.
"Didn't that feel good? Let's go for another round."
A little while later, you and Wonho were the only ones left inside the locker room, cum painting your stomach and his. You don't exactly know how much round syou two have did it, but it sure as hell made you tired. "Now be a good boy and stay," you ordered him, before you got up from the bench and made your way towards the showers.
Just as you did, Wonho took that as an advantage to look yfor your phone. Fortunately, he found it and it didn't have a password. "Dumb whore," he pointed out before going to the gallery to search for the video. "Gotcha," he stated and deleted it. Then a few minutes later, you got back out, all naked and wet as you walked towards Wonho, grabbing the towel that was placed on his lap. "Not so smart, are you? Leaving your phone unattended and with no passwor at that."
He showed you your phone and saw that the video was now erased. The scared look on your face made Wonho smirk as he threw it to your chest. With how fast your face changed from surprised to mocking made Wonho's smile disappear as you made your way towards your locker and got your back, dumping out the contents of the bag in front of Wonho. He grabbed one and was surprised when he saw that it was him again, but now with that lady he was with last week. "A phone is not the only device I have, Hoseok. And a smart person would be able to tell that. So if you don't want these to be spread around. you have to do as I tell you, got that?"
Wonho hesitated before he looked at you with his teeth gritted. "Okay."
"Good boy."
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saintmuses · 2 months
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❝𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧❞
Pairing:
Dark!Mike Kiernan x Neighbor!Reader
Summary:
Mike liked his neighbor a little too much that he was willing to do anything to have her even if it meant destroying her if she didn’t listen.
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Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Implied age gap (everybody’s grown). Infidelity. Soft!dark!Mike. Possessive!Mike. Manipulation. Hints of stalking. Blackmail. Technology is involved. Like this is filthy as hell. P in V. Fingering. Oral (f-receiving). Flashbacks in italics as well as phone calls. Minors, dni!
Word Count: 3.3k
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Craning his neck, Mike inhaled slowly before exhaling as he tilted his head to the original position to look out the glass panes of his window to her bedroom window across the yard.
She couldn’t see him, but he could see her. She was opting for comfort by wearing a plain t-shirt and black shorts. He could tell she was not wearing a bra underneath which sent a slight shiver down his back ah the idea of getting his hands on her breasts.
He had learned everything about her as much as he could after he noticed her the first time a year ago.
The easiest way to have some sense of connection to her was being such a friendly neighbor with phone numbers exchanged.
“Are you lonely? Is that why you call me?”
He hesitated, “yes.” He murmured, a little white lie slipped from his tongue, using one of his fingers to trace the cord that connected to the receiver from the machine. “After Kasia broke up with me, it’s very quiet around here.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. We wanted different things,” he said truthfully. He had meant what he said, but he did not want them with his former girlfriend. He wanted them with his neighbor. “Apparently she fell in love with her roommate.”
“Ouch.” He could hear her wincing, and he smiled slightly at her next words. “Fine, I’ll be your shoulder for you to cry on.” She said exasperated, but with a smile in her voice.
First photo set of her in red lacy nightgown ended up in his camera roll on his slim device the first time he spotted her standing by the window unintentionally.
Also mentally filing away the fact she had a boyfriend who didn’t appreciate her. Beers and sports parties was his go-to dates with Y/N. He knew he could treat her far better than her boyfriend ever would.
“Just because I said I’ll be willing to lean an ear for you, it means you call me every night?” She huffed into the receiver, and he grinned because he could tell it was without a bite.
“You’re being mean,” he smirked, watching the clear liquid swirling in the glass as he shifted it.
“I’m not being mean.” 
“Oh, but you are.” He said albeit breathlessly.
More photos saved into his camera roll as she wore soft burgundy lacy bra and panties that night.
“I saw you a few weeks ago with your face beaten up…are you okay?”
“Eh, just a misunderstanding. I had to clear it with the schoolboard. Skunk was being bullied by her two neighbors, and I stopped them.” He shrugged although she could not see him. “Guess the girl didn’t like the consequences, conspired with her sister, and accused me of being inappropriate towards her, and their father wasn’t happy with it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The ringing ended with a click as it was picked up. Her breathing could be heard through the receiver as he waited for her to greet him.
“Hello?”
“Come up to the back patio,” he murmured, an urgency in his tone as he spoke into the receiver.
“Mister Kiern-“
“I know for a fact you are alone with a big bowl of what did you say is your favorite snack?” He inquired as he observed her through his window blinds.
She sighed, letting out a soft laugh that sent his heart into a state of pitter patter. “Puppy Chow,” she said petulantly.
He hummed in acknowledgment; he knew that of course. “And you’re drinking something with Moscato in the biggest wine glass you could find which I do have. So come up to the patio.” He said beguilingly, attempting to convince her.
“I have a boyfriend.”
A grimace flitted across his face. “I know but fuck him.” He said bluntly, irritation coated his tongue as he spoke into the receiver. “It doesn’t hurt to hang with friends. We are friends, aren’t we?”
A long pause then a sigh. “Fine, I’ll be there.” She relented.
He couldn't stop the toothy grin from spreading across his face. “Alright.”
Mike had been filling their wine glasses with her favorite wine twice now since she had been here for forty-five minutes.
He enjoyed being in her presence; however, she had to stop calling him by his last name as if it was going set any boundaries between them.
“Stop calling me mister Kiernan,” he murmured, sucking in his bottom lip, and swiping his tongue across it.
She looked at him in surprise. “What else am I supposed to call you?” She was confused, and he chuckled slightly.
“My name.” He stated the obvious.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He stared at her. “Say my name.” He leaned in, using his nose to graze the curve of her cheekbone. “Say my name,” he repeated softly.
Her lips parted; his eyes flickered down to them while he was internally smirking. She was almost susceptible to his wiles. Although he was silently begging for her to say his given name.
“Mike.” It was a whisper. A word that bridged the distance between them in a way despite not moving at all.
He tilted his head slightly, observing her facial features. “You’re stunning,” he breathed, staring at her.
She shifted slightly in her seat, clearly, she was uncomfortable with the compliment he gave her. “You’re just lonely and I’m the only one who’s willing to deal with you.”
Mike chuckled, seeing how she was attempting to deflect him. “I’ve been wanting to say that since I met you,” he admitted.
She hesitated, eyeing him before reaching for her bag. “This is inappropriate. I…I have to go,” she said quickly, stuttering as she stood up from patio sofa.
His hand snapped around her wrist in a vice grip as she attempted to walk past his legs that were in her way, he tilted his head to the side as he peered up at her. A hint of amusement in the lilt of his smile as if he found her attempting to leave funny.
“I have photos of you in your underwear,” the words were spoken in a calm tone, building the tension towards the threat. “If you leave now, I will gladly send them to your boyfriend.” He said casually, his thumb rubbed absentmindedly across her wrist.
She looked at him with wide eyes. “When did you…?” She trailed off, and he knew she was afraid of the answer.
“Every time you changed by the window. You forgot you had an audience across from you, didn’t you?” His tone went from calm to almost condescending with a hint of rhetorician since they both knew the answer. She had truly no idea she had a peeping tom club of one member.
“You wouldn’t.”
His lips curled to the side in a form of a nasty smirk. “Oh, but I would.” He then chuckled, without a sense of humor in his tone.
“We didn’t do anything, it’s just me changing my clothes by the window.” Her voice was weak, trodden like.
“Well, your boyfriend wouldn’t know that, would he?” He questioned flippantly, almost mockingly as his eyebrows raised. “All I have to do is send him those risqué photos without any context and he would just take it how it is.” 
Her bottom lip trembled as she swallowed, “why are you doing this?” He knew she felt betrayed by him…more of his intentions since they were not true honest to begin with, and she was just figuring that out.
“I’m just tired of not having what I want…” his eyes trailed from her eyes down to her wrist that he held with a precision of a tight grip, “and what I want is you. Now sit next to me, sweetheart.” His tone booked no space for arguments.
His grip on her wrist eased up when she sat down next to him. He heard a slight echo noise when she dropped her bag next to her leg.
He inhaled slowly and deeply as his eyes roved over her body, relieved after all this time he finally got what he wanted.
Mike placed his hand on her knee, right next to her hands, gliding his thumb over her skin.
“I just want you.” He said softly, nudging her hand with his before he grabbed it.
Her breathing turned erratic, as a hot shiver of delight went through him as his hand eased her onto his covered pulsating cock and he began a fluid stroke in her palm, “you feel that?” He rasped into her ear, “that’s what you do to me. You’ve been doing this to me for a year.”
He could tell she was mentally calculating the math of when he had felt this way. “Ever since I moved here?” 
“Even then.” 
He wound his hands into her hair, cradling her head almost reverently, while he hungrily, desperately, violently, met her lips with a savage force.
He knew the circumstances were not idealistic, he knew she did not want him, at least not like this, but he was desperate for her.
His heart raced as she seemed to accept his request. He smiled softly into her lips and moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the furniture, his body pressed against the curve of her thigh as he pulled his glasses off his face and set them on the table beside them.
He leaned away slightly with an intent of reaching out with his hand and gently raising her shirt until the sliver of her breast began to reveal to his hungry eyes.
He then leaned down and started kissing her skin under her breast, lightly licking the flesh as he did so. His lips were teasing, making sure that she enjoyed every moment before slowly building up the intensity.
He was going to make sure she would like it even if she did not want to.
His tongue moved from the skin to the edge of her breast, his tongue slowly kissing along the edge as he pushed the hem of her shirt to reveal more of her breast.
His lips curled slightly when he heard her whimpering, especially when he nipped the curve of her breast before trailing his tongue from the spot to her nipple. 
His lips continued to nibble on her breast while his tongue swirled around her nipple; gently teasing it. His hands moved up to her shirt, quickly removing it completely so that she was shirtless in front of him.
He leaned back, his gaze locked on her body before his fingers slowly traced down the curve of her body, moving from her chest to her hips before placing his hands on them.
He took a second to appreciate her body before his fingers slid into the waistline of her shorts, slowly easing them down her thighs. After he dropped the article of clothing next to the patio furniture, he settled his hands on her ankles.
“Spread your legs for me.” He said breathlessly, almost inaudibly as her legs parted, exposing her thighs to his ravenous gaze.
His hands trailed from her ankles to her thighs, gripping them before he reached for her fabric covered cunt, tracing his index and middle fingers down her slit before pressing into her folds.
She was soaking wet, and he could feel it through the fabric.
He smirked at her soft little pants as she let him touch her clit through her underwear. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her hips shifting, her thighs widening slightly as he traced her sensitive spot. 
He continued sliding his fingers of his other hand along the soft skin of her thighs, his thumb gently teasing the edge of her underwear.
He then leaned back to stand up, removing his shirt in process until he was bare chest. Then he removed his pants, only in his boxer briefs. 
Mike grinned as she watched him remove his shirt and his pants, exposing the shape of his slim muscles and pale chest. Her gaze was roaming over his body before he sat back down in the same spot, leaning forward again. 
Mike’s fingers moved to the edges of her underwear, beginning the process of removing them.
She closed her thighs so he could get the underwear down easily before parting them even wider to expose her vulnerable spot to him.
He smirked at her easy cooperation as she parted her thighs. He had expected her to be a little hesitant and resistant, but she wasn’t making this a challenge. 
His fingers moved her folds apart to reveal her swollen clit after he removed her underwear. 
As she was now exposed to his hungry gaze, Mike leaned down to kiss her spot, lips caressed her folds gently before parting it to let his tongue trail up her cunt, lapping at her wetness. He swallowed it before kissing her spot again, then leaned back to look up at her face, his lips curved into a soft grin as he observed her reaction. 
Her lips parted as her eyelids were closed tightly. Her face was flushed from arousal.
“Such a sensitive girl,” he cooed softly, rumbling softly in his chest.
Opening her eyes, she flushed profusely. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I’ve never been touched.” She mumbled.
Mike chuckled, however a thrill shot down his spine at the thought of being the first one to take her, despite having a boyfriend and knowing she used her sex toys to play with herself. 
His chuckle faded, only humming to indicate his understanding before he leaned down to kiss her sensitive spot again. 
“There’s no need to apologize,” he said softly, his lips still on her cunt. “I was just…observing how sensitive you are.”
He kissed her clit again, this time, using his tongue to explore the texture on her sensitive spot, gently kissing and lapping at her cunt some more until her hips began to shift slowly as she parted her thighs even wider.
He then leaned back slightly to grab his phone that was lying on coffee table, and he looked up to see her gaze on him. She was confused, looking at him with a question in her eyes, clearly waiting for an explanation.
“I just need to capture these moments,” he responded softly, a smirk on his lips as she parted her thighs even more, exposing her sensitive cunt to the dimming light of the sky. “I want to remember every moment of you.”
She breathed, looking away shyly before closing her eyes .
He felt her skin as he parted her folds slightly, feeling her hole gaping slightly as he did so then he bit down his bottom lip as he pressed the icon that indicated a photo being taken. 
He parted her folds even more, this time, moving his finger gently into her hole. He felt it tightened slightly around his finger as he took another picture. 
“I need these images of you,” he murmured as he took another picture. More pictures began to pile into his camera roll, more digital prints to jerk himself off to later whenever she was not available.
Mike’s breath grew deeper from the sight of her lips parted and her eyes clamped shut from the soft noises she was letting out as he pushed down on the side of the opening to make it gape wider.
He felt her walls attempting to tighten around his finger as she whimpered, and he took another picture, this time, making sure that the camera captured the up-close position of her cunt.
He smiled softly, eyeing her as she opened her eyes, and he placed his phone aside to her thigh. He took a long look at her, observing her reaction as he withdrew his finger from her cunt.
He then reached for his underwear, pushing them down his hips then his pale thighs. Pushing them off to the side after it reached around his ankles, then he propped himself onto his knees on the cushion between her thighs.
Mike inhaled sharply when he noticed her curious eyes on his cock, he slowly began to hover her, wanting to keep her gaze on it while his eyes were locked on her cunt, his body and demeanor suggesting that he was ready to take her body and make her his for his own enjoyment.
He dragged her thighs until the back of her thighs meets the sides of his legs. Making him almost pressing against her. while he was stroking himself lightly, he only placed the thick tip of his cock against her little hole with no intention of taking her just yet.
His body language was one pure dominance and lust. He had a grip on her thighs, keeping her legs from moving too much so that he could fully enjoy her body however he pleased.
Mike moved her legs as he adjusted the position of his body over her body. He had his device ready once again, the thick tip of his cock placed against her little hole. 
He smirked to himself as he aimed the camera at her cunt, getting the picture he desired.
He then switched over to video format, pressing to record as he used his other hand to use his thumb to stretch the hole lightly, teasing his thick tip with it as it gaped slightly. His throat rumbled with a slight groan as her hole was beginning to stretch by his thumb and the feeling of it felt good against his cock. 
He made her legs part even more as he held her thighs, keeping her in place to ensure that he wouldn’t miss a thing, that the recording wouldn’t miss the sight of it.
He pushed into her opening just very slightly, letting her feel the tip of the thick head of his cock before pulling away slightly and repeating the process.
He was enjoying the expression on her face, seeing how she squeezed her eyes shut and let out soft little whimpers. 
His fingers were firm on her folds, keeping them apart as he continued teasing her hole, pushing his cock in into her cunt slightly and then pulling out as he filmed it.
His eyes then widened as he saw her hands pulling her folds apart to make her little hole gape wide, exposing her sensitive area beautifully to the camera. He groaned a bit at her action and used his thumb to slowly trace her hole as she kept her thighs parted while letting him film it.
Mike pushed his thick tip into her opening with more force this time, the tip slowly slid into her hole. His breathing became deeper, almost ragged as he slowly entered her cunt deeper than before.
He stopped filming it, throwing the phone to the side and gave her a harsh thrust as he slammed the rest of his cock into her, making her cry out.
He let out a grunt as he felt the heat enveloped his girth, “fuck.” He breathed as he gripped her hips tightly. His fingers flexing into her skin as he reared back and thrusted back into her with such force.
She whined loudly, arching her back before he began to drag her along with him as he eased himself onto the cushion, his back pressed against the patio furniture.
She muttered brokenly as she sunk down on his length. “I- “ she was out of breath already, her eyes half lidded as her hands held onto his shoulders.
“Fuck.” His hands grabbed her hips to control her motions, using his hands to guide her up and down. “Taking me so good,” he grunted in her ear before leaning away slightly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her bouncing on top of his thighs.
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zhongscara · 1 month
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in MY opinion... i think that aside from being a diversion tactic (to make sure the fatui dont find out about the primordial sea), wrio threatening lyney could have also been him subtly checking on the dynamic between arlecchino and the house of the hearth orphans.
like wrio knows manipulative adults Pretty Well, and the fact that he knows the fatui sent orphaned "children" undercover instead of grown agents already tripped alarms in his head.
Wriothesley: Mr. Lyney, the cards are stacked against you right now. Miss Lynette is in my hands, and Mr. Freminet is still slowly being pickled out there in the brine. You know just as well as I that he cannot last out there forever. Wriothesley: You need do but one thing to guarantee their safety. I would like you to contact your superior, and ideally invite her over for a cup of tea with me. Lyney: You want to see "Father"? Ha, but why should she bother giving you an audience? Wriothesley: Well, if she cares for the well-being of her dearest children, she should have plenty of motivation to join me for a parents' evening. Wriothesley: I've heard that the bonds between the members of the House of the Hearth are like the bonds of family. I don't see why she would refuse.
(emphasis mine)
"call your parental figure or your siblings will be in danger" would be a relatively easy decision to make if your parental figure... yknow... cared about you. but lyney insists that arlecchino shouldn't be involved in this and breaks from the stress of possibly losing his siblings. which makes ME think like... how much value does arlecchino place in the orphans if lyney refuses to "trouble" her with possible imminent torture or DEATH.
Lyney: …Was this the extent of your master plan to get to "Father"? No matter how much pressure you may put on me, I won't allow you to use us to blackmail her. Lyney: I… I shouldn't ask "Father" to do anything because of us…
(emphasis mine)
like... lyney... if she really cared about you she would willingly help you... you know...
and yes later on arlecchino is like Well he shouldve called me :/ but its way easier to say that after the fact.
The Knave: [...] It's unfortunate that Lyney's so eager to prove himself that he can't learn to rely on others... including me.
i mean lyney came to rely on the traveler pretty easily..? i think deep down he doesn't trust arlecchino.
so wrio noticed that something wasn't right pretty quickly, and could have also set this up as a sort of test - both for him, and for lyney - in a way - to take a better look at the dynamic between arlecchino and the siblings.
basically i think that specific part of the archon quest shows us that the house of hearth isn't a Found Family Despite All Odds situation and definitely has something much darker (aside from, you know. the orphans basically being FATUI AGENTS). i keep saying this but i think the fact that the previous head of the orphanage was "even worse" means that traumatized children/teens/young adults can easily justify a different kind of abuse as "well at least it isn't (x) which is even worse!" and based on the siblings' profile stories, it seems arlecchino leans more towards emotional manipulation/neglect, which, again, if compared to the physical abuse from the previous head, can be pretty easy to justify in the eyes of already traumatized and vulnerable people.
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roadkillremi · 1 year
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Randy Meeks x Ghostface!Fem!Reader and TOXIC!Poly!Ghostface x Ghostface!Fem!Reader
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Part 2 Part 3 MasterList
Warnings : Mentions Killing, language, Mentions Sex, Mentions plans on killing, Toxic Relationship, Mentions Under-Aged Drinking, Displays Under Age drinking. (Please don't drink if you're not 21). (If I'm missing any please let me know!) *Future Chapters feature Smut*
I do NOT support killing or toxic relationships. Especially the one displayed below. If this is happening to you or a loved one please contact help ASAP!
Summary : Being childhood friends with Billy Loomis wasn't always easy. As you got older he demanded revenge and that you helped him. (He may have manipulated you along the way). After helping kill Sydney's mother you refused to help anymore. Billy and Stu forced you to stay due to blackmail causing you to be in a toxic secret relationship.
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You lounged your legs out on the concrete boarder of the fountain. Randy sat behind you wrapping his arms around your waste stealing a chip from the bag in your lap now and then.
"How could someone do that?" Sydney asked softly.
"You gut her!" Stu laughed, Billy shot him a look and then glanced at you. You rolled your eyes taking a bit of your chip. You leaned back against Randy's torso.
"You dated her, Macher. Makes you a suspect." Randy smiled. Stu glared at Randy, "for a day." You added laughing.
"come on, guys. Its not funny. Someone died." Tatum sighed.
"You know what that means.." Randy said. You sighed knowing what was about to come. His grip tighten, "horror movie marathon.". You glanced over your shoulder, "Really?".
"Yes, we have to recheck and follow the rules."
Everyone blankly stared at him, "Randy, Honey. I adore you but I'm not rewatching IT with you.". He rolled his eyes, "oh come on!".
"You know what we can do?" Stu said interrupting.
"Go to the party at my place!" He smiled.
"Stu you are such an idiot" you whispered before getting up. You grabbed Randy's hand pulling him up about to walk away.
"And where are you two going?" Tatum asked. You smiled, "Bells gonna ring in.." you looked at Randy's watch.
"28 seconds." You smiled walking away holding Randy's hand. Randy shrugged smiling walking with you. You two walked into the school, the bell ringing exactly when you said it was.
"Do you actually think it's Stu?" You asked looking up at him. He tilted his head, "maybe. The motive makes sense. The 'I can't have her no one can'. " Randy made a crazy face as he talked.
"But he wouldn't be that organized." You pointed out. You tilted your head, "he's also the goofball. And you always say-"
"Never trust the goofball" you both said at the same time.
Randy smiled wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer.
"that's my girl!" He gave you a small kiss before heading to class.
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You sat on Stus couch looking at your sneakers. You told Randy you were at your Grandma's for the night. That was a lie. Billy sat beside you watching the movie without making a sound. His hand gently on your knee, you told him you were okay with it. That was another lie. You didn't talk much when you were forced to come over to Stus house. Stu was getting beers and popcorn before trotting next you.
"What's the matter, baby?" Stu smiled. You looked over at him taking a beer. Your face cringed at the nickname.
"Nothing in particular.." you said softly as you opened a beer.
Billy glanced over before looking back at the TV. You were watching Psycho, for the 236th since the last 3 years. Billy huffed, "she doesn't want poor Randy to die.". Stu giggled like a little girl, "I don't get it. Why do you like that guy so much?-". You stood up, "Um, maybe because he's not a killer or a psychopath!". You gripped your beer tightly before taking another swig.
Stu pretended to be hurt, Billy looked at you. He smiled softly, "Movies make the psycho, Sweetie. You know this.". You rolled your eyes, "I'm leaving.". You grabbed you keys heading towards the door.
"You walk out that door I'll make sure Randy knows what You've done." Billy's voiced boomed through the living room. You stopped looking over your shoulder.
"OOOO" Stu laughed.
"That's different and you know it!" You turned towards the two men. Billy stood up, "Yeah, because Sydney's mom messed up your family as well. Mom and Dad split, Stepdad didn't want you. So you live with your Aunt. Does he know that? Bet he'll think you're a suspect.." you tried to speak before he interrupted.
"Remember when you were all upset because he was so obsessed with Sydney? How sad you were. You cried in me and Stu's lap all night.."
"it's not the same, Billy!"
He stepped closer, "or how after we killed her mother we all slept together? Did you tell him that? I wonder why you and Randy never had sex yet. You both are 18 and about to graduate. Nothing to lose but why not, hmm? Ashamed he'll find out who took your virginity that night?" Billy was inches away from you now. Stu made it behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked at him, you felt queasy.
"Just let me go.. You know I won't tell anyone." You said softly. Billy chuckled, "Too late for that, darling.". You looked away, Billy grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. You glared at him standing still, he gently kissed you. Yet the kiss wasn't so gentle, his lips were firm and rough. Stu joined in and kissed your neck, you didn't make a noise or a face. Billy backed up to look at you, "Friday night everything will be perfect again." Billy said staring into your eyes.
"Yeah, give out a couple beers! And Bam! everyone's out and we do the killing!" Stu laughed. You nodded hoping the boys will let you go home. Billy stood there and grabbed your keys from your hand.
"Get in the car. I'll drive you home." He muttered. You nodded following his orders into your car. The silence was loud all the way there. Once he got to the house he parked the car.
"how are you gonna get home?" You said staring straight ahead.
"I'll walk. I just needed to make sure you didn't see that asshat tonight."
He meant Randy, you nodded and unbuckled your seat belt. You attempted to open the door before Billy stopped you.
"Promise you won't see him."
"I promise."
"Look at me when you say it."
You looked over your shoulder, "I promise.".
Another lie.
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Randy jumped from knocking at his window. He moved his curtains aside to see you standing in-between bushes. He opened his window, "There's this invention called a front door. You should try it sometime." He smiled helping you in.
"Ha ha, you're funny Meeks." You looked around, his room was cluttered with junk. Or what he calls collectables, nothing really changed since you were here last time. You softly smile at him before you hug him.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" Randy placed his hands on your shoulder trying to get a good look at you. You smiled lazily hiding the pain, "what if we get murdered?..".
Meaning, 'what if Billy kills you and pretends to kill me? How could I live with that?'.
Randys brows knitted together, "I highly doubt we will. With my brains and your lack of attracting killers.". Only if he knew.
You flopped on his bed laying on your back. He laid on his side facing you, "But, what if.. it is Stu or Billy.. wouldn't they want to kill us?". Randys face contorted, "Then we'll be prepared.".
He moved some loose hairs out of your face. You just observed him, thinking about what Billy said to you.
"I'm ready.." you whispered. His eyes went wide, "For...". You nodded cupping his cheek, "for sex..". He bit his bottom lip contemplating.
"we can't.." he whispered.
"Is there a reason?"
"Killer on the loose you know the rules!"
You rolled your eyes playfully pushing him. You sighed crawling towards his pillows laying down.
"As much as I would love to my lady." He spoke in a horrible British accent. You glanced over at him, "Gotta stay alive.". He laid down beside you, you curled into him.
"Are you sure you're okay? You're acting weird. Weirder than usual.". You smiled up at him, "I just love you.". He went silent, which was rare for him. He never heard the L word come out your mouth. You just stared at him, "it's not a big deal, Ran-"
"SHE LOVES ME!" He put his hand over his heart.
"Shut up! We're gonna get in trouble!" You playfully smacked his arm. He smiled kissing you, his lips were softer than Billy's. His kisses felt like they were full of emotion, unlike Billy's. You smiled, "Can I stay here for the night?".
"Thought you'd never ask! I'll put in the Exorcist!" He got up to look through his pile of movies. You sat up, you needed him to understand that he could die. You needed to explain to him how you're not a killer. He sat back down beside you wrapping his arms around you pulling you closer.
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The next day Billy was gone, Stu pulled you aside.
"What, Nimrod?" You glared at him.
"Sydney accused Billy."
"Not accusing if shes right-" you mumbled. Stu huffed like an annoyed child, "Imma kill Principal Himbry all these interviews are getting up my ass.". You stared at Stu in disgust, "I'm not helping. I want nothing to do with any of this!". Stu whined, "Fine. But Billy's gonna here about this!".
"Go tattle tell to your boyfriend. I don't care." You walked away to the fountain, to meet Randy due to the school ending. You saw Sydney and Tatum waiting there whispering. You walked over, "Hey." Sydney gave you a sad smile.
"Did you hear? Billy went bananas!" Tatum whispered. Sydney sighed, you looked at Sydney, "I'm sorry you're going through all this..". Sydney shrugged, "What about you? Any phone calls?".
"Nope, I've been with Randy and my Aunt all week. So even if there was a call no answer." Sydney nodded.
"You should spend the night at my place! Cause No way Randy can protect you!" Tatum giggled.
"Hey!" Randy protested finally showing up. You smiled, "Sure I'd like that!". You looked at Randy, "Can you take me to my place first to get clothes?".
"I have work."
"Didn't that fire you?"
"Twice" Randy smiled.
"Small town. Not enough small Brian workers I guess." Tatum stated. You smiled kissing Randy's cheek, "See you tomorrow.".
"See you tomorrow. Call me when you get the chance."
Tatum cringed from the display, "You two are so weird.".
"I think they're cute." Sydney said in your defense. You smiled, "Come on, let's leave before anyone weird finds you" you said to Sydney.
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yanderes-galore · 16 days
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prompts 5, 36, and 38 for the spy please?
(sorry if i alr sent this lmao)
Idk what prompt set you mean so I did mine. Thank you @okchijt as always for helping me :) They've done this plot awhile ago but I never got to it until now. Me and them both struggled on a plot with what we were given so I'm sorry if you don't like it :(
Yandere! Spy Prompts 5, 36, 38
"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!"
"I'd hate to hurt you but... if you keep this up I might have to."
"My life has been so barren without you...."
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possible OOC Spy, Manipulation, Threats, Death, Mentions of "Respawn Machines", Jealousy, Touchy behavior, Different from my usual fics, Blackmail, You can imagine darling is part of a different team than RED and BLU if you want, Forced relationship.
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Your grip on the gun shook as you pointed it towards the enemy Spy. Your teammates were gone, held hostage by a sabotaged respawn machine. It was just you... and the Spy in front of you.
"I suggest you listen, dear." Spy warns, looking at you with a smug expression. "I can easily have your team gotten rid of permanently unless you listen. Those respawn machines are important, we both know that... and they're offline."
"You're lying...." You seethe, gun still aimed for the Spy in front of you.
"Am I?" Spy grins, cigarette in hand. "Would you really want to take the risk and doom your team? I thought you cared for them... unfortunately." Spy grimaces, watching you as you take in his words.
Spy only approaches when he sees you freeze and lower you're weapon. He circles you with a predatory grin as he plucks the weapon from your hand. You watch as he tosses it, settling behind you with his hands on your hips.
"Aren't you tired of fighting?" Spy whispers, leaning into you. "I could easily put an end to all of this unless you comply. You see... I have so much info against you and your team. Hate to have it all leaked, no?"
Spy's smile never falters when he sees your breath hitch. He has you exactly where he wants you. He's been waiting for this moment. He has been pretending to play the part of your team member... only to reveal himself as a traitor.
This was his job, after all... gain information and take out those who resist.
"You know what I'm talking about, dear. It's against the rules to have romantic relations with a team member, is it not? I could tell the higher ups about everything... you wouldn't want that."
Spy chuckles when you freeze, knowing he means the conversations you've been having with your "coworker"... aka Spy. The real coworker you adores was dead and gone. Spy made sure not even a respawn machine could help them.
"You trying to blackmail me?" You answer, squirming when Spy pulls you closer. "Manipulate me into doing... what exactly?"
"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!" Spy hums. "But with me, you don't have to hold your feelings back anymore. I adored our little chats. We can still make this work... I can even bring back that team of yours if you just give yourself to me, my beloved. Our little secret...."
"Don't mock me!" You yell, breaking out of his grip. You try to pull out your secondary but the Spy is faster due to years of experience. He plucks the weapon out of your hand before tossing it again. You then feel him hold you still, a frown on his face.
"I'd hate to hurt you but... if you keep this up I might have to." Spy sighs, sound hurt. The sudden change surprises you. What scares you about Spy... is the fact you can't read him. Spy chuckles, seeing the gears turning in your eyes.
"We'll be seeing each other a lot more often, won't we?" Spy smiles. "After all... you want this little secret of yours to stay quiet no doubt. In fact... once those respawn machines are up and running again, I'm sure you'll be seeing me tonight, love."
He traces his gloves fingers across your jawline, smiling with half lidded eyes.
"I plan to make you mine tonight, dear... better wear something nice." Spy whispers. "I want you to act like you're mine, after all, I'm turning these machines back on because I love you. Don't forget that."
Spy then lets you go, stepping away as he watches you stare him down. You're terrified, frustrated, but unable to do anything as of now. You're vulnerable and he adores it.
"My life has been so barren without you...." Spy announces with a wave. "I'll never let you leave me now."
With that, he activates his watch and disappears from sight...
Leaving you alone with the consequences of your actions.
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mattodore · 10 months
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100 questions with Matthias | playlist, pinterest | ←
1. What common traits do you share with your oc? What about them is the least like you?
Hm… I think Matthias and I are similar in that we’re both all-in when it comes to love, but I think just about every other aspect of Matthias’s personality and life are different from mine. Or, I hope so... lmao.
2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?
Absolutely not. I would be calling for this man’s beheading online. He wouldn’t like me either (let it be clear that he doesn’t like much of anyone, though). If we had to have a conversation I’d maybe listen to his thoughts on literature or history. I like listening to people much more intelligent than myself talking about the things that interest them. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, though.
3. How competent would your oc be in a survival situation? Would they be better off on their own or in a group?
Incredibly competent. Matthias is a savant with huge swaths of knowledge touching on a countless number of subjects, has analytical prowess, is strong and sturdy, manipulative, charming, and a natural born leader. He has all the makings of a solid survivor and could wind up on the other side of any survival scenario as the head of some fucked up cult, honestly, but…. If the situation in question is dire or inconvenient enough he’s simply not going to bother. He’d let someone else kill him off without putting up a fight. And I’d say he’s better in a group just because he needs people to make him feel real.
4. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life?
Daredevil. Matthias has little value for his own life and often winds up doing some rather outrageous things in order to feel anything other than the numbness he's used to. I think the most daring thing he’s ever done has to be blackmailing the headmaster of his boarding school just because of the sheer gall of it.
5. What is your oc’s patience like? When waiting for something, are they able to sit still or do they fidget? How do they fidget?
Matthias is never in any kind of rush. He leans and lounges and sprawls. He doesn’t move much, but I think he does have a certain lofty demeanor about himself when he’s waiting that’s reminiscent of a big cat swishing its tail and flicking its ear; if he’s crossing his legs you’ll see his foot sort of dip and swish while he’s waiting… he taps his forefinger on his temple… and he stares very intensely.
6. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why?
Matthias pretty much figured out what worked best for him when he was a teenager and has stuck with it since then. He has a simple skin care routine and only uses a few hair care products, so it’s not something he has to put much thought into anymore as it’s all just rote memory now. 
In terms of his clothing, he’s not very adventurous and knows what already works versus what doesn’t. He gravitates toward pieces that flatter his physique while also remaining in a color palette more suitable to his tastes (he likes plain clothing without logos or lettering and wears blacks, grays, whites, and darker shades). 
But Matthias also has a dermatologist, a stylist, and a personal trainer on retainer… he could always get them on the line if he needed to. 
7. Does your oc collect anything? What about knowledge or facts? How big is their collection?
No material possessions, but he does seek out knowledge, if that counts? He also owns a lot of books, but not because he’s collecting them on purpose… he just reads a lot.
8. What kind of flavors does your oc like? How much spice can they handle?
I think he likes both sweet and bitter flavors the most. He’s used to eating a wide array of foods, so I don’t think there’s any flavor he doesn’t like exactly. Matthias can’t handle spice at all, though, which is a shame because he does actually like the flavor. Theo finds this to be very funny, by the way… he thinks Matthias is cute when he’s trying to play off how badly the food is getting to him while drinking water in these precise, measured gulps that’re meant to be subtle but just make it all the more obvious that he’s kind of dying. His ears and the back of his neck go all red while eating spicy food.
9. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves?
Matthias doesn’t trust easily at all. I think it’s partly because he never had anyone to trust in those development years of his childhood, but also partly because of the way in which his mother shipped him off to a reformation school to be abused and tortured and then essentially abandoned him there. Even despite never being close with his mother or even particularly loving her… he still knew that there was something meant to be there between a mother and their child that was… betrayed. So he finds it nearly impossible to give his trust over to another person, especially because he hides so much of his real desires, impulses, and personality from the world. Imani is the first person to ever gain that trust and the only person after to get it from Matthias is Theo. 
As for himself… it depends on who you are. If it’s Imani or Theo that are putting their trust in him, then they can be assured that they will never have to doubt him. If it’s someone else, however… he’s only trustworthy when it suits him and his little games. He lies a lot just for the hell of it, cheats often, and amuses himself with the power of holding secrets. Do not trust this man.
10. What are some of your oc’s pet peeves? How do they handle it when the annoyance doesn’t stop?
Matthias was trained in etiquette for years, and despite frequent participation in debauchery as an adult, and a strong distaste for rules, some of his training has stuck with him regardless. That is to say that poor table manners make him feel homicidal. Open mouthed chewing and talking with your mouth full has to be what he finds the most atrocious, especially as it nearly makes him nauseous. His way of handling these annoyances is to simply leave without another word, no matter how important the conversation or the person having it with him is.
11. Does your oc have a good sense of direction? Do they get lost easily?
Matthias has a very good memory (a detriment, really, considering how much there is in his life that he’d really like to forget) and a good sense of direction follows that naturally. He hardly ever gets lost.
12. How well would your oc handle being placed in a leadership position?
Like a fish to water. Matthias has lived his whole life placed at the top of the food chain and leading the pack already. He takes up that space with grace. But does he actually want it? Well… no, he’s rather bored of it now. He wants someone to follow instead but so few people are deserving of his devotion… 
13. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating?
Matthias has the confidence of a man who has never found himself to be intellectually inferior to anyone and has only ever stood above everyone else. He’s arrogant and disdainful. Comes with the turf that he also likes himself a great deal… he’s prideful to an irritatingly high degree unless you’re into that sort of thing.
14. What is your oc’s speech like? How loud are they usually? Do they have an accent or a stutter?
Matthias is silver-tongued. He enunciates every word carefully and speaks very precisely. He speaks confidently and never mumbles or stutters. However, if he lets his mind wander or slip (whether aided by intoxication or just simple distraction) his Polish accent—which was trained away when very young—slips through the cracks. You can hear his accent most notably over the letter “a” in words (Bambi becomes Bahmbi, for instance… which I mentioned months ago but now there’s the added context that this is his nickname for Theo… grins a little). 
15. What is your oc’s memory like? Do they remember certain things better than others? Do they have any strategies to better remember things?
Perhaps it’s because of how regularly he exercised his mind from a very young age, but Matthias’s memory is astounding. More than anything, though, what his memory latches onto most is violence. The traumas of his teenage years have followed him like a second shadow. His dreadful nightmares are fueled by just how much he remembers of his time at the reformation school he was sent to from ages 15-18.
16. How affectionate is your oc? How do they convey their affection? By being touchy, or through more subtle ways?
Platonically? He’s very warm with Imani. He often holds out his arm to her so she can place her hand on his bicep as they take walks in the morning. I don’t think they verbally affirm to one another how much they love and care for each other, but that’s mostly just because they already know they do from over a decade of friendship. Plus, Imani kind of has a hard time accepting love from others, so that’s also why Matthias doesn’t speak to his love for her as his dearest friend.
Romantically? Matthias is always showing his affection and love for Theo openly and without shame. He meets Theo’s needs exactly where they are, seeing in Theo just how badly he needs to be reassured and pursued, even when Theo is still trying to deny himself what he desires. Matthias conveys his affection most through words of affirmation and acts of service. He’s always in Theo’s ear whispering about how his heart beats through Theo’s or how nice he’ll be to and for Theo, how good… how he’d crawl for him… he’s incredibly devoted and Theo is very aware of that fact. Make no mistake, though, Matthias is also affectionate in other ways as well. He’s incredibly tactile with Theo, because Theo’s most comforted by the physical reassurance that Matthias is there to catch him, you know? If Theo falls, he’s got him. Matthias also isn’t shy about voicing how badly he wants Theo either. Time and place don’t matter to him at all when faced with Theo’s presence (or, even, the absence of his presence; Matthias wants him all the time). Matthias would let Theo do anything to him. He could ask anything of him.
17. How polite is your oc? Do they know how to act in a formal situation? How would they *actually* act in a formal situation?
Matthias is… hm. Generally speaking, he’s polite, but it’s not exactly… sincere. He’s all charm and pretense, I mean… he’s just following the social contract to get what he wants. In formal situations, he’s the picture perfect gentleman. He has a lot of experience from etiquette lessons to cotillions and has undergone rigorous training in boarding school to ensure infallible success in the upper echelons of society.
18. How physically strong is your oc? Is their agility or endurance better?
Matthias is very strong. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s strapping. His muscles aren’t the kind that are just for show… he’s thick all over and isn’t concerned about having a movie star six pack. He wants real, animalistic strength. He wants to ensure he’s never put in a situation where he can’t protect himself ever again. And I’d say his endurance is better than his agility by nature of having previously undergone a lot of forced labor. Plus, he’s had to adapt and has a high pain tolerance now that he’s in his twenties, so aside from, like, pretty high stamina, his actual ability to endure pain itself is high.
19. What is your oc’s creative skillset? Music, drawing, writing, dancing, etc.? Or are they lacking creativity entirely?
Hm. I think he’s not very… imaginative? Creatively, I think Matthias is very much someone who just sees what’s there… he doesn’t draw from it and add on, you know what I mean? He does some art, but it’s observational realism. He sketches landscapes almost exclusively (in fact, it’s one of the things he does in the mornings). He has a lot of free time not only because of the nature of his lifestyle but also because of how little he sleeps… so he’s had a lot of time to practice and is good at it. He’s trained in ballroom dancing but he’s not explored any other kinds of dance and doesn’t try letting loose any other way. He can play the viola and the piano (as he’s legally required to do as a fictional rich love interest™), but doesn’t compose his own pieces. He’s not a writer, surprisingly, despite reading obsessively… I don’t believe he’s ever even tried writing himself. Well, he does journal, on occasion, but that’s just drawing from his real life… his imagination is stilted. One could draw the conclusion that this is perhaps because of the childhood he had or a result of trauma… hm. Take your pick.
20. Does your oc have any favorite games to pass the time? What other hobbies do they have?
Well… he plays mind games, if you count those. He likes messing with people. Other hobbies… well, what I just mentioned in the previous question, for starters. Hm… I think he treats sex as a hobby. He reads a lot and always has. Birdwatching. Going on walks. I think he’s pretty boring, honestly. Sorry, Matthias. No, um… I really think he just… appreciates the world. It sounds weird to say, considering he’s rather nihilistic… but I feel as though his nihilism actually plays a part in why he just… sits back and appreciates what’s there, because what else is there? The birds in the trees, the rising and setting of the sun, the movement of his body while dancing, the base pleasures of his sexual appetite… yeah. That’s what life is. Experiencing it is his hobby, I suppose.
21. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like?
Matthias isn’t very expressive. Sure, he smirks and offers an inscrutable smile, but… he’s hardly ever actually expressing his true emotions or thoughts. I’d say he normally has an intense, persistent stare no matter which mask he’s wearing for the evening. If he smiles, it doesn’t meet his eyes. He’ll raise a brow if he’s amused, and his mouth will quirk, but he never fully laughs—not easily, at least. You’d have to work very hard to earn a laugh from him.
22. How easily does your oc fare in the sun? Do they tan or burn easily? Are they completely unaffected?
Matthias wears sunscreen every day and is meticulous about reapplying it. If he tans, it’s very light. Mostly he just burns. Trust that he complains about this all the time to Imani as she’s often the one with him while poolside. She thinks it’s hilarious, because even when they were kids he’d burn along the bridge of his nose just from being out for a handful of hours in the courtyard of their boarding school.
23. How graceful is your oc? Are they elegant in their movements, or more clumsy?
Matthias is poised and confident in his movements and commands attention through them. He glides gracefully around the room when he’s entertaining guests and mingling. His tread is light, despite his size, and he has a tendency to creep up on people when they’re not looking. The way he moves is unsettling to some who’re watching on the outskirts, because it often appears as if he’s prowling. 
24. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic?
Oh, Matthias is a true romantic when he finds someone worthy of his affection. Or, rather than just his affection, should I say his absolute devotion? He worships at Theo’s feet. He’d debase himself just for a rare glimpse of Theo’s smile. He’s at Theo’s beck and call.
Additionally, Matthias would never be disgusted by any of his desires or urges as he doesn’t let society dictate how he feels about anything; rather, the more his desires deviate from what society at large deems acceptable, the more he’d delight in them. So the love he feels is something he exalts, even when it skews off in jagged directions.
25. How stubborn is your oc? Are they open to considering different options or opinions, or are they more closed off?
Matthias is pretty stubborn, I think. He values his own opinions above all others. He’ll move only if he’s been proved wrong or outsmarted… which is something that always gives him a delicious little thrill. He loves meeting people who can get the better of him.
26. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like?
Matthias is an insomniac and gets very little sleep. When he does sleep… hm… I think he doesn’t move around much unless it’s to accommodate someone else in the bed with him (Theo…). Matthias sleeps on his back using one pillow under his head. He doesn’t like feeling constricted, so he sleeps naked with only a sheet covering his body, his comforter put away in the storage bench at the foot of his bed and only brought back out to make the bed in the morning.
27. What is your oc’s sleep schedule like? Are they a night owl, an early morning riser, or do they get any sleep at all?
Matthias likes the mornings best. I think he normally manages to get some sleep in at around 11AM-1PM in the day. Theo actually helps him fall asleep… Matthias will lay his head in Theo’s lap while Theo’s studying and the motion of Theo’s fingers carding through his hair will put him to sleep like a child with warm milk. His nightmares ease around Theo.
28. How organized is your oc? How important is organization to your oc?
Matthias is very efficient and organized. It’s personally very important to him to keep his area clean as it was a habit he developed in boarding school.
29. If a perfume was to be made to represent your oc, what sorts of smells would be included in it?
I think Matthias’s signature fragrance is already a good enough representation of who he is. He wears Francis Kurkdjian’s Oud Extrait de parfum. A strong scent that’s spicy and rich with saffron notes that’re soft and leathery. He smells warm and masculine without being ostentatious.
30. How caring/empathetic is your oc? Are they the type to immediately adopt and protect others, or are they a true sadist?
Matthias has very little empathy for people who aren’t of his concern. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a true sadist… but he does have violent urges and enjoys toying with people. He’s protective of children and teenagers, though… it’s not something often seen, as he has no reason to be around younger people, but… Imani’s seen it first hand with her younger brother.
31. What inspired the creation of your oc? Any specific things, a general aesthetic or idea, or something completely random?
Theo. I’ve talked about this over here, but Matthias as a character exists because of Theo. His actual appearance is meant to contrast Theo’s. His life is meant to mirror Theo’s. His personality is both a mix of hard differences and similarities to Theo’s.
32. How judgemental is your oc? Do they keep an open mind about people, or are they the type to judge a book by its cover?
Matthias isn’t actually all that judgy. I mean, he definitely looks down his nose at people, but that’s hardly their fault. I’d say he’s open minded, but he’s also a lofty asshole.
33. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why?
Matthias doesn’t have material possessions that he feels he has to carry around at all times. 
But… I suppose he’d have his phone on him, a watch on his wrist, and his driving gloves tucked away in his back pocket. He doesn’t have a wallet, but he does have a card he’ll carry in one of his pockets. He doesn’t carry keys, as he has people who’ll let him inside his home when he needs to be let in. 
When he’s dating Theo, though, he often makes sure he has a hair tie or two on his wrist as well (which does in fact make me feel insane, thanks for asking). 
34. Does your oc have a pet? If they could have another one or if they were to get one, what would it be? How well could they care for it?
Surprisingly, yes. Matthias has a cat named Odious. By nature of Matthias being rich, Odious is spoiled, but not exactly by Matthias himself. He’s not very affectionate, but he does like her. She just wandered onto one of the estates and didn’t leave.
35. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc?
Matthias has a very noticeable scar on his chin from a decanter his mother threw at his face when he was fifteen years-old. I do think he’d have more scars on his body from the three years he spent at a reformation boarding school, but I haven’t yet decided where or to what extent the scarring goes. He has no birthmarks, freckles, moles, or tattoos otherwise. 
36. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most?
Matthias is the fight response without question, but it takes a lot to get him to break and resort to it. Matthias has an impeccable amount of control over his own impulses and can hold off on reacting for a long time. But when his control snaps and he turns violent, it’s most likely a response to Theo getting hurt in some way. He has very little control when it comes to Theo.
37. How does your oc handle heavy stress? Do they have any specific coping mechanisms? Are they healthy or not?
Matthias gives the impression of being impenetrable, but I do think stress is something he feels. If he’s stressed, it’s most likely because of mental challenges he’s facing. As for coping mechanisms for it… he probably doesn’t have any, just by nature of stress being something he chooses to ignore most of the time. Hm… I can’t imagine he’d handle it any differently than how he normally handles his other challenges: with wine, sex, and a crowd of murmuring bodies.
38. What does your oc do to relax? Any specific activities? Why?
By all means, Matthias definitely seems as if he’d be pretty relaxed, but he’s actually on edge a fair amount. His insomnia gets pretty awful at times and he has audible hallucinations. The best way he’s found to deal with it is to relax outside, listening to the sound of the birds and letting the breeze ease the fevered rush of noise his mind tries tricking him with. He doesn’t live close to people at all, so he knows the hallucinations aren’t real (mostly, he hears screaming)… still, it’s not like he enjoys them. He views it as a weakness of his.
39. Does your oc have any nicknames? What are the origins of them? If they don’t, can you come up with some possible ones?
Matthias doesn’t like when his name is shortened, so he doesn’t have any nicknames based on his actual name. Hm... Imani calls him baby whenever she’s making fun of him, if that counts? It’s not really a nickname, though, but whatever. Theo doesn’t use nicknames with Matthias, I don’t think, but Matthias would go crazy for it if Theo ever did. He’d do anything to hear Theo call him his pet… I’d bet he fantasizes about it all the time. I’m sure he’s probably coaxed Theo into calling him a few nicknames during sex, though, so there's that.
40. What languages does your oc know? Are there any they want to learn but haven’t had the chance to? How good are they at picking up new ones?
Matthias is a polyglot. He can speak and write in Polish (and can generally understand a handful of other Slavic languages), English, Spanish, and French. He also knows ASL.
Matthias wants to be able to read as many languages as he can. Right now he’s learning Mandarin but is in the early stages of memorization. He’ll probably start working toward learning either Arabic or Hindi next… I’m not sure. He likes Arabic poetry (the translated forms he’s read) a lot, so that’s probably what he’ll gravitate toward.
41. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them?
His worst injury has to be the broken ribs and punctured lung he got while he was at the reformation school. It’s the source of one of his most frequent nightmares.
42. Is your oc an optimist or a pessimist? Any particular reason why?
I’m honestly not sure that Matthias goes either which way. Everything is so… nothing to him that not even I can say how he feels in concrete terms. I don’t think he feels like there’s going to be better days ahead! or that everything is awful and will be awful forever. He’s just… apathetic.
43. How important are the rules to your oc? Do they follow them to a t, or do they enjoy breaking them?
Matthias has never seriously cared about rules and in actuality spurns them. The only time he observes them is when he can use them to his advantage or because he’s had to in order to ensure his safety.
44. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict?
Well… he’s had violent urges since he was very young. He doesn’t act on them hardly ever (now, at least), but they are there in his mind. And Matthias doesn’t avoid conflict per se, but there’s very little that he views as worthy of his attention in that way. He gets mad for a time, sure, but then he lets it go. When he does act on his urges, it’s… well. It gets bloody fast. He kind of lets it all out at once. 
45. How is your oc around animals? What about children?
Matthias is stilted with animals, including his pet cat. He talks to her like she’s a fully grown human person… he pets her a few times on the head and then pats her bum and tells her to go on her way. It’s a little funny, in my opinion. 
Matthias doesn’t really hang out in circles where children are present hardly ever, but when he is around them I think Matthias is surprisingly soft. He’s gentle with them and talks to them like they’re his equal; he doesn’t use baby talk or dismiss them. Kids really like him because of that. Matthias treats children and teenagers better than any of the adults in his life ever treated him.
46. Does your oc lie a lot, or is the truth very important to them? What is their reaction to other people lying to them?
Matthias thinks lying is fun, lmao. He only considers the truth to be important when he’s talking to people that he views as respectable. If he cares about you, he’s probably not going to lie to you. Perhaps it’s because of how good of a liar Matthias is, but he can see through lies eerily well. So when other people lie to him… hm. I think he enjoys it, because you can learn so much about people based on what they chose to lie about. He finds that fascinating.
He doesn’t like when Theo lies to him, though. Not about the important things at least, like Theo’s safety. It’s what Theo lies about the most to him.
47. How much of a prankster is your oc? Are their pranks truly evil, or more harmless, positive ones?
He doesn’t pull pranks. He thinks they’re simpleminded and uninspired. He can think of much more exciting ways to mess with people.
48. What are your oc’s nervous tics? Are they aware of them? Do they attempt to hide them?
When Matthias is nervous he’ll thumb at the scar on his chin. He catches himself doing it occasionally, but I don’t think he’s ever been aware of why exactly he does it. He stops himself when he realizes he’s going through the motions, though. He thinks the impulsivity of it is inelegant.
49. What would be the perfect gift for your oc? What would be their reaction to receiving it?
I’m honestly not sure. Matthias doesn’t necessarily care about material possessions, so you couldn’t really buy him something and expect much of a reaction from him for it. But I’m also not sure if there’s anything sentimental that would move him either. So not something made for him or something bought… but maybe something personal that belonged to you at some point. Hm. I think he’d let the mask slip and he’d offer a smile… a genuine thank you. He’d be fascinated by the choice of gift… it’d be different from what he’d expect someone to give him and it’d thrill him in that way.
50. How attentive is your oc? How perceptive are they? How easily do they get distracted?
Matthias models his behaviors off of others, so he’s attentive and watches closely. I think he’s perceptive, but not as much as his gaze might lead you to believe. Matthias can get caught up in his own orbit. His haughtiness gets in the way sometimes, so he slips when he’s having his ego stroked… it’s the best time to get one past him. Theo uses this to his advantage when he’s prevaricating and trying to avoid being caught lying.
51. If your oc was to receive an award for something, what would it most likely be for? Have they received any awards in the past?
Matthias has received numerous kinds of academic awards while in school. He’s also won awards for his manners and dancing in his etiquette lessons. No specific award I’d give him… not seriously, at least.
52. In what ways does your oc cope with anger? How easily angered are they? Do they lash out?
Matthias used to be a lot more aggressive when he was younger and was stubbornly argumentative, but he learned to control his… not anger, exactly, but his derision, as a natural consequence of physical violence at the reformation school he went to in his late teens. Matthias does get angry, but… he lets it go if it’s not actually worth his time. If you’ve pissed him off, he’ll give this tight, inscrutable smile and his eyes will glint once in warning before his features will smooth back over. He’ll keep staring until you get uncomfortable and look away first, change the subject, or leave. But if he’s actually furious over something that he can’t just ignore… he lashes out like a viper. You’ll get dizzy from how severely he dresses you down. Or he’ll hurt you, if your offense is grievous enough. I don’t think he’d be quick about that, though. He really does enjoy playing with people.
53. If your oc was to host a podcast or TV show, what would it be about? Would your oc actually be good at it? What sorts of guests would appear?
Oh God… Matthias absolutely cannot be given an audience. It would be detrimental to world order or something. Um… but I think he’d do great talking about history or literature… or manipulation tactics. I don’t think he’d have any guests on, though. He’s a one man show.
54. How would you describe your oc’s voice to sound like? Do you have any voice claims for them?
Matthias’s voice is low, cold, and seductive. There’s a gravitas to his voice and an arrogance you can just hear. If you close your eyes while Matthias is speaking, you’ll get the impression that you might need to crane your neck up to look at him… the force of his presence just spills over into every part of him, including his voice. He enunciates the letters in words precisely and has a measured way of speaking that adds a layer of… command to his words. 
I don’t have an exact voice claim… but I think his voice would sound like a harsher, deeper version of Michelle Gurevich's in Temptation (especially when Michelle’s voice starts to growl/rasp at the end of her words).
55. How sensitive to loud sound is your oc? Do they prefer constant high background noise, low background noise, or complete silence?
Hm… it depends on what the noise is coming from. He’s used to all kinds of distressing noises. In general, I’d say he prefers low background noise or silence.
56. What is your oc’s favorite color? If you had to choose one color to represent your oc, what would it be and why?
Matthias doesn’t have a favorite color… like, at all. And I’d say silver reflects him well… I can’t say why exactly, it’s just the first color that comes to me when I think of him. Maybe pale blue as well… he’s icy.
57. How good is your oc’s sight? Do they wear glasses? Do they need glasses? Do they have some form of night vision?
Matthias has perfect eyesight. The fucker.
58. How would you describe your oc’s appearance to someone who’s looking for them? What features would be most identifiable?
I think Matthias is actually incredibly easy to spot. I’d tell them to look for the tallest guy in the room who’s pale all over and broad shouldered. I honestly think that would be enough to spot him. I think his pale blond hair is the most identifiable feature he has, especially when light hits it.
59. How good at cooking is your oc? What can they cook/what is their favorite thing to cook?
While Matthias does have staff who’re paid specifically to cook for him, he actually waves them away a lot of the time to do it for himself instead. He’s a good cook. Not, like, Le Cinq level cooking, but he’s good regardless. I think Matthias spends a lot of time practicing things like cooking specifically to impress. He gives off the impression that he’s just innately talented at many things, but that’s by design. He’s actually worked very hard to develop the skills he has. It’s a fun aspect of his character, in my opinion. He seems like he wouldn’t care, but he actually cares a great deal.
(Additionally, being on Matthias’s payroll is pretty cozy, because oftentimes he just ends up doing what the staff are hired to do for himself and the staff still get paid regardless. Putting up with his uncomfortable staring and odd waking hours is worth it in the end.) 
60. How good is your oc at keeping track of time? Are they always late, always early, or always right on time?
Time slips away from Matthias frequently. He’s normally late to things, but because of his personality, a lot of people think he’s just being fashionable… he’s not. He genuinely just gets so wrapped up in whatever it is he’s doing that appointments on his schedule slip his mind and he winds up ten minutes late to everything.
61. Is your oc more quick-thinking, or do they take longer to figure things out?
He’s quick-thinking. His mind is agile and connects dots faster than most. But he’s not even half as perceptive as Theo despite having a similarly quick mind.
62. How quick is your oc? Do they have faster or slower reflexes? What things are they quickest at?
He’s both mentally and physically quick. He exercises regularly and boxes, which is something he would hardly be able to do well if he couldn’t react fast. The way he carries himself, his grace and poise, has also aided his reflexes. I think he reacts fastest when catching things… you should see how adeptly he can catch and maneuver Theo’s legs around him when Theo jumps on him.
63. How self-disciplined is your oc? Do they often think before they act, or the other way around?
Matthias is incredibly self-disciplined due to how he grew up and the experiences he had in his teens. He thinks first before acting, without a doubt. The times in which he does act first are always the moments in which his control snaps and he lashes out. He tries to avoid that happening as best as he can.
64. Which of the seven deadly sins does your oc fall under most? What about the seven heavenly virtues?
He’s lust, easily, but pride and wrath speak to him as well. 
As for the seven heavenly virtues, the only one I can even entertain for him is patience.
65. If you were to give your oc a new superpower, what would you choose and why? If *they* were to be able to choose, what would it be and why?
I was going to be funny here, but actually… I think I’d give him the ability to sleep whenever he wants. Is that really even a superpower? Probably not. But it’s all just made up anyway, so, sure. He’d have sleeping powers.
On the other hand, I think Matthias would be interested in something that could give him either greater knowledge or a deeper insight into the way people think. Telepathy, maybe? Not, like, mind control, or anything. That’s not very fun for him… he’d want to have to work for it more.
66. What sort of advice would people go to your oc for? What sort of advice is your oc actually good at giving?
I don’t think Matthias has the interest or sensitivity necessary to give people advice. I don’t know… he doesn’t really have many opportunities to try, anyway. I doubt Imani goes to him for advice when she’d rather handle things on her own, and Theo would never ask anyone for anything, especially for help. But I think Matthias would be the kind of person you would go to when you want to indulge. He’d stoke the flames of your passions and persuade you to reach for them rather than staying still.
67. How many people does your oc prefer to be around? A crowd, a few friends, or all on their own?
Matthias prefers to be in crowds of people. He has to feel alive somehow. He lives both because of others and through them. 
It’s only when he feels seen and understood through Theo that he begins to reassess and prefer the company of just a few friends and his lover.
68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?
Rather than feeling sad exactly, Matthias is more unresponsive. I’d say he has a very childlike sadness buried deep down that he’s carried with him his whole life to the point that he’s now numb to it. Nothing cheers Matthias up, not really. Maybe Theo.
69. How energetic is your oc? Are they constantly tired, or constantly bouncing off the walls?
Matthias is an insomniac, so by nature he’s sort of always tired; however, Matthias has had nearly a decade to adjust and is a master of performance—you would never notice how exhausted he truly is. It’s not that he’s dull or low energy… but he’s languorous. All of his movements are languid and unhurried. Even the way he talks is measured… he draws things out. His actions only pick up if he’s excited by something. 
70. What about your oc’s lifestyle would they change if they had the ability? Why?
Nothing.
71. What is your oc’s go-to for offense? What weapon, what style of fighting? Or are words more their weapon of choice?
The personal trainer Matthias has had since he entered his twenties is an ex-boxer, so that’s how Matthias has learned to fight in a more refined, professional capacity. Before that, though, he learned how to fight from hands-on experience at the reformation school… meaning, he fought dirty and there was absolutely nothing off limits. He had to defend himself any way he could. Because of this, Matthias is rather crafty in what he’ll reach for to use in a fight, but he prefers to do it with his bare hands if it’s… a more personal attack. 
Matthias actually spars with Sehyuk at times to blow off steam. They’re never fighting to really hurt each other, which is good… Sehyuk could put Matthias out of commission for quite some time if they ever wound up actually fighting. Well, if they were playing clean. If they fought dirty it’d be a toss-up on who’d win. They’re both rather brutal.
72. What is your oc’s ideal environment like? Urban or natural? Fancy or rustic? What’s the weather like?
Matthias enjoys warm weather. He enjoys nature and likes tropical locations or locations that’re at a great distance away from other people. He likes being separate from everyone else at home… it gives him the space to drop the act and be who he really, truly is underneath it all. Space also allows him the clarity of knowing he’s just hearing things when he’s hallucinating. (Though, later this becomes unnecessary when Theo finds out about Matthias’s hallucinations and shows Matthias to record the things he thinks he’s hearing. If they don’t come through the recordings, then he knows they’re not real.)
73. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before?
Matthias has never actually been arrested, but if he were to be arrested for anything it’d be for public indecency, without question. Justified, obviously, because he’s fucking and sucking everywhere. 
74. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired?
Matthias is very intense when he’s actually drunk. He’ll stare without talking for a long, unsettling amount of time. He forgets to mind his strength and leaves marks behind if he grabs an arm or a shoulder. He doesn’t shy away from voicing his thoughts, of which he doesn’t filter… meaning he says things that are weird and also deeply disturbing if he’s feeling angry (again, violent thoughts… he’s always had them). Matthias is also direct in a very blunt, unrefined way when he’s drunk—he’s always direct about what he wants, mind you, but normally he’s charming about it. The charm’s gone when he’s intoxicated. He’s incredibly meticulous about never drinking too much because of all of this.
When he hasn’t slept for days, I think he becomes… very quiet. He doesn’t even talk to himself, which is a thing he does frequently when alone (a habit from childhood). I think the softest he ever is is when he’s tired. Theo’s seen him like this a lot. He’ll lay his head down on Theo’s lap and just stare into space. If he speaks, it’s a few words at a time and that’s it. He becomes pliable… he’ll press into Theo’s touch and sigh… he’ll make quiet sounds of discomfort and hurt if Theo tries to shift away or leave. He’s clingy. The hallucinations are incessant if he hasn’t slept for a long time, so… I think that’s why he gets quiet. There’s already too much noise.
75. What would your oc’s dream home be like? How big would it be? What sorts of rooms would be in it? Where would it be located?
He doesn’t really have a dream home. To be clear, Matthias did actually buy himself a large home to his taste shortly after getting his inheritance… but it’s not like he’s attached to it. He doesn’t have that… desire for material things, including for where he lives. He dreams about locations, sure, but the actual house he lives in doesn’t factor into it. He just wants to live somewhere warm and in the heart of nature… he wants to always hear birds outside.
76. What is/was your oc’s relationship with their family like? Was it happy, tense, or abusive? What living family does your oc currently have, if any?
Matthias’s father died when he was fifteen and since then he’s been completely estranged from his mother as well. His relationships with both parents have always been nonexistent. His mother has resented him since birth and his father only saw him as a means to continue his legacy as well as a way to entrap his mother. Physical abuse came with his parents’ marriage, but Matthias is completely unaware of that fact as he was neglected and left on his own for nearly his entire childhood. I’d say he can hardly even recall a handful of instances where he interacted with his parents when he was young. Rather than being under the care of his parents as a child, Matthias was taken care of by the staff of the estate (who had orders not to interact with him more than necessary). He received no love, no praise, and no physical affection. He grew up on silence, literature, and the sounds of the birds in the gardens of his home. After his father promised him the entirety of his wealth in his will, his mother assaulted him physically and then sent him away to a reformation school that psychologically tortured and physically abused him until Imani got him out of there the day he turned eighteen.
77. Does your oc like to wear any particular accessories? Hats, jewelry, scarves, etc.?
The most Matthias wears are his driving gloves and one of his watches.
78. How socially skilled is your oc? Are they good at understanding social cues? How charismatic are they?
Matthias’s social skills are award winning. He’s exceptionally charismatic and well-mannered. Of course, that’s just for show. His grasp on social cues is stilted, but a smile can get him very, very far with that face and all that money.
79. For what reason would your oc turn into a villain? And if they’re already a villain, vice-versa?
Well… I think either way you view this question in relation to Matthias’s character, the answer is going to be because of Theo.
80. What is your oc’s handwriting like? How easy is it to read? Can they write/read cursive?
Matthias’s handwriting is clean and romantic. Huge swooping curves and artistic strokes. You can tell his handwriting has been something he’s worked very hard on perfecting. He writes in cursive most of the time, but not always. His print is sharp and clean, but not as extravagant.
81. How good is your oc at drawing? What is their preferred art medium, and what is their artstyle like?
Matthias is good at drawing. He draws in sketchbooks and prefers simple graphite pencils. His art style is observational realism. (Refer back to #19 for more on this.)
82. What would be your oc’s ultimate dream vacation? Where would they go? Who would they take with them? What would they do?
Whisking Theo away to wherever Theo will allow him to would be Matthias’s dream. Theo has many different responsibilities that he’s bound to… and, really, Matthias just wants to take him away from it all and keep him in bed for days. He wants Theo to rest and act on his own wants and desires for once. He wants Theo to be somewhere safe.
83. What is your oc’s favorite trait about themselves? What about their least liked? What would others like and dislike the most about your oc?
There’s nothing Matthias doesn’t like about himself, honestly. He favors his own intelligence the most.
I think he’s valued by others for his money the most, followed closely by his looks. Most people who haven’t been privy to Matthias with his mask off probably would say they feel uncomfortable when he goes silent and just… stares. If they’ve seen him without the pretense, then his derision is what they dislike most.
84. Is your oc more masculine, feminine, androgynous, or something else entirely?
I think he’s more masculine.
85. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death?
In the Echthroi universe? Hm… he doesn’t covet fame in any way, so I can’t imagine it’d be because of anything he himself has willed. Maybe someone snaps a photo of him and posts it online and it blows up? I don’t know… he doesn’t even have any social media himself, so… yeah. I got nothing.
86. What would someone assume about your oc based on their appearance? Would those assumptions be correct?
Matthias has been carefully crafted to look exactly as haughty and duplicitous as he is.
87. What are some of your oc’s physical weak spots? What about emotional/moral ones?
He’s weak to being kissed behind his ears, touched along his spine, and having his head pet or his hair pulled. He’s weak to Theo and Imani… and there’s this small, trembling thing inside him that’s weak to his mother.
88. Does your oc hold grudges? For how long? Does your oc have any rivals?
Hm… I have a hard time imagining him carrying anger with him long enough to foster a grudge (outside of the grudges he has with his mother and the people at the reformation school he went to). I think if he had an issue with someone he’d do something about it rather than stew in it. And by “do something about it” I don’t mean by talking things out.
89. What does your oc’s laugh sound like? How often do they laugh? Are they easily amused?
Sexy. What? Who said that? 
No, but Matthias doesn’t genuinely laugh very often. Instead he has this rehearsed laugh that he uses to charm and manipulate in social settings. It sounds nice… breezy and light… a trustworthy kind of laugh.
His real laugh is actually pretty startling. Matthias’s voice is cold and seductive… dripping… but his laughter, when it’s honest and real, is rumbling and comes out at a much lower register. He laughs with his entire diaphragm. You can press your hand to the center of his chest and feel it rumble through your fingers. Theo actually jumped the first time he heard Matthias laugh. Matthias’s laugh is inviting and warm and always makes Theo all flustered. Even if you're immune to Matthias's looks and charm, his real laugh will draw you in.
90. Does your oc have any objects they could never give up? Why is it so important to them? Do they have any family heirlooms?
Matthias doesn’t form attachments to material objects and has nothing he holds on to. He also sees zero value in family heirlooms and his lineage as a whole. I suppose he does still have his family home (and other Evanoff homes) in his possession but he defiles it regularly.
91. What is your oc’s typical posture like? Do they slouch, or stand straight? How much space do they usually take up, both physically and figuratively?
Matthias (like Imani) was forced through years of etiquette lessons and has a very precise bearing with an easy upright posture, standing tall and elegant in the center of any room. He’s both physically large (he’s 6’3” and would potentially have been taller had it not been for his experiences at the reformation school while still growing) as well as figuratively; Matthias has a very… imposing presence and is at ease with himself no matter where he is.
92. What trait does your oc appreciate or admire the most in others? Why?
I believe it’s a three-way tie between intelligence, wit, and viciousness. Matthias doesn’t want to be bored by conversation and he seeks out stimulation and amusement to prevent that.
93. What is your oc’s preferred learning style? Observation, hands-on, instruction? Do they take notes or memorize?
He prefers to learn by himself through reading and observation. Obviously, though, there are some things he can't learn through simple observation and does actually seek those who're better educated to learn from—like his personal trainer and language tutors. He has a very good memory, but he takes notes regardless. He likes the activeness of pen and paper while learning.
94. Does your oc rely more on a logical or emotional mindset? What situations would this be the opposite?
Logical, definitely. Matthias experienced very little emotional output for most of his life and it was only once he truly bonded with Imani that he started to develop more sentimental feelings. When it comes to Theo, however, he becomes almost entirely ruled by emotion… nearly too much of it for him to bear.
95. How is your oc about keeping someone else’s secret? Are they the gossiping type, or do they hold true on their promise to keep things quiet?
He keeps secrets very well. It’s not that he feels especially beholden to keeping his word, but rather that he enjoys knowing that he’s the keeper of a hidden kind of knowledge. That said, when the secrets he’s keeping are on Imani and Theo’s behalf, it becomes much more about a sense of loyalty and love than about… mastery and power, I suppose.
96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?
I would describe Matthias best as a man who is intimidating, imposing, and impossible.
Matthias would describe himself as detestable, irresistible, and… a mouthful.
97. How old is your oc physically? How old are they in mental maturity? When are they most mature, and when are they the least?
Matthias is in his mid-twenties physically (I think 26-27 is a more solid answer, but nothing’s set in stone). Mentally… it’s complicated. When he was young he had a sort of agelessness about him… it was only when he first entered his teens (and the public) that I believe he began to act more like a real child and then more rapidly like a teenager. Abuse did a number on him, though, late in his teens… He’s both stuck at the ages he was during the worst of the abuse while also seeming older than he actually is. His maturity is best exemplified in crisis situations or when he’s taking care of someone (Theo…). Conversely, his maturity goes down the drain when he’s being stingy or possessive.
98. Is your oc the type to have a lot of fairly good friends, have a small group of close friends, have one or two best friends, or have no friends at all? Who are they closest to?
Matthias only has one best friend and that’s Imani, who is also the first friend he ever made (they've been friends since they were eleven and twelve, respectively). He’s also friends with Sehyuk but they aren’t particularly close. His relationship with Sehyuk is... one of convenience, I'd say, but they do have an interesting bond... Matthias is able to fully be himself around Sehyuk, which is rare for him.
99. What is your oc’s morning routine usually like? What do they eat for breakfast (if they have breakfast)? What time do they usually get up in the morning?
Matthias is an insomniac so most mornings he’s not actually waking up but rather was already there waiting for the sun to rise. Matthias will sit outside with coffee and a book in the morning and listen to the birds. If he’s having breakfast it’s most likely something light that compliments his coffee.
100. Does your character ever swear? How often? How vulgar is their swearing?
In casual conversation I’d say he doesn’t often swear since he’s more imaginative than just saying “fuck you” or similar phrases, but if he does swear in conversation he’s most likely doing it in Polish (pierdol się is easily what he says most). When he’s in someone’s ear talking dirty, however, he’s vulgar to the point of pearl clutching on his partner’s part.
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venus-haze · 2 years
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The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter - Part 3 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)
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Summary: The tension rises in the week leading up to your wedding to Elvis. Torn between your desire to live your own life again and your emotional obligations toward him, you make a decision that backfires horribly and only sends you further down the aisle.
Notes: Thank you all for your patience in my uploading this part and also for the overall support for this series. This is the last part of the series, and I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. I will be writing a prequel part, but I’d like to focus on the requests I’ve gotten recently. Please look at the warnings before reading. Do not interact with this post or my blog if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and abuse of power, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Emetophobia warning for one short part of the fic. Also brief mentions of blood toward the end. Again, do not interact if you are under 18.
Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2
The calendar on the wall seemed to be mocking you as each passing day was marked off with a giant black ‘X’, inching closer and closer to the wedding day. You hardly had time to think with all of the planning–floral arrangements and dresses and cake tastings. Your mind was barely treading water at that point, and you tried desperately to keep yourself from drowning in your imminent despair at what seemed to be your fate set in stone. 
As you had expected, Graceland became a zoo not longer after you and Elvis arrived from Vegas. It was always like that, and you welcomed it. Graceland offered you undoubtedly more freedom, from walks on the property to being able to hang out with people other than Elvis without having to worry about him unnecessarily escalating the situation. Being home seemed to mellow out Elvis some, as you found yourself enjoying his company again. Still, you couldn’t shake his erratic and downright behavior from your mind. You couldn’t rely on being at Graceland all the time, not when Elvis was still being managed by the Colonel, who wanted him out making as much money as possible. 
You felt a headache coming on as you sat in the living room, rubbing your eyes to hopefully get some relief. You’d been up since early that morning to squeeze in all of the wedding planning appointments. No matter how much time you had, you felt like you’d never be ready. Less than a week was hardly enough time to get everything together, but Elvis wanted at least a week for the honeymoon before he had to prepare for his upcoming tour, so you had no choice but to oblige. 
The wedding was short notice for your family, and only your sister Kathy would be able to attend. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was deliberate on Elvis’ part, to keep you from anyone who would potentially see through the facade of the happy couple. It wasn’t like many other people were going to be there on your behalf anyway. You couldn’t remember the addresses of your LA friends and figured they had probably moved within the three years you had been gone anyway.
Shuffling into the bathroom, you grabbed aspirin from the medicine cabinet and took two. Leaning on the counter, you studied your reflection. The woman staring back at you seemed like a stranger before anything else. Tilting your head and moving your hand back and forth in front of the mirror, it certainly was you, but you hadn’t felt like yourself in weeks. You felt as though you couldn’t completely blame Elvis for that, perhaps you’d made it too easy to get to this point, allowing your work and personal lives to blend so seamlessly together for the past three years. After all, no one seemed surprised when you and Elvis started ‘dating’.
You were startled by a knock at the door and promised you’d be out in a minute. Quickly washing your hands and straightening out your appearance, you opened the door to see Elvis waiting for you.
“Hi, honey,” you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
His eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “You alright, darlin’?”
“Yeah, just a little tired, I’ve been busy the past few days.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’d say you’ll have plenty of time to rest during the honeymoon, but I can’t promise that,” he said with a grin, leaning over to kiss you softly. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
“Me too,” you answered, as if there were any other response you could give. “I have table settings to look at, but I’ll talk to you at dinner, okay?”
He gave you one more kiss before you walked into the dining room, at least a dozen table settings in your favorite color on display. It was your second to last wedding-related appointment for the day, and you chugged along, listening to whoever had come in explain the options to you before you picked which one you liked best. Elvis had left almost all of the planning to you, saying that he trusted your taste. Having some space from him during the day was nice, at least, even if it was to focus on your impending wedding. 
The evenings, depending on how his day had gone, would set the tone for the rest of the night. Usually, there’d be a dozen or so people crammed into the dining room to eat, whoever happened to be over that day. You welcomed the buffer for Elvis’ moods, in all honesty. As the wedding grew closer, he acted more and more like himself, or what you thought was himself for all those years. You found yourself letting your guard down a bit, allowing yourself to enjoy the glimpses of the man you loved. Unfortunately, you knew it wouldn’t last, it was only a matter of time before something set him off. 
Dinner that night had been fine, even when you informed him that you’d have to go into Memphis the next day to take care of some things before the wedding. He didn’t like you leaving Graceland much, but he didn’t put up much of a fight when you told him, he’d be sending one of his security guards with you anyway. He always claimed it was for your safety, but you knew it was so someone could keep an eye on you while he wasn’t around.
You could feel yourself becoming tired, the clock reading a little past ten, but you’d been up since seven that morning, almost constantly doing something since then. You excused yourself to go upstairs to bed. A few minutes after you got up there, you heard the door open, and felt a pair of arms wrap around your bare torso.
“I didn’t know all the plannin’ for the wedding would wear you out so much, baby,” Elvis said, kissing the crook of your neck. “You want me to go with you tomorrow?”
You considered how you were going to answer. You absolutely didn’t want him going to Memphis with you, it’d be impossible to get anything done with all of the chaos his being out would cause, even with his security detail. However, you knew if you answered ‘no’ too quickly, he’d think something was going on. 
“I don’t want to bother you,” you said, placing your hands over his. “You’re so busy yourself, and you really need to rest before the tour. It’s two weeks straight of shows; I know that takes a toll on you.”
“Always lookin’ out for me, huh?”
“It’s what I do best.”
“I can think of a few other things,” he teased.
You let yourself laugh since the situation hadn’t escalated. Yet again, you wondered why he couldn’t be this way all the time. Gently, he turned you around, pressing his lips to yours. Caressing his cheek, you kissed him back, only pulling away when you could feel sleep creeping up on you.
“Sorry, honey,” you said, fighting back a yawn.
He smiled. “Go to bed, baby. I don’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep. I’ll join ya in a minute.”
You nodded, feeling like a zombie as you made your way over to the bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out until your alarm woke you up the next morning. You groaned, hitting the clock and throwing an arm over your eyes. Absolutely no part of you wanted to get up, but you forced yourself to. Elvis was still asleep, not starting his day until after you did. You’d always been concerned about his non-existent sleep schedule, especially how dependent his sleep was on whatever cocktail of medications that Dr. Nick prescribed him. It wasn’t healthy, the residency and back-to-back shows that gave him little room to actually rest. Part of you wondered if he was too far gone, that he wouldn’t accept the help if he were offered. You’d heard Priscilla talk about rehab once, but never heard anything else of it.
Looking at him as you got ready for the day, your chest filled with simultaneous affection and hurt. You loved him, and for that reason you knew you couldn’t marry him. Once your emotional obligation to him was legally binding, you wouldn’t be able to get out, you’d never be able to bring yourself to leave him. The guilt at the thought of making him go through a divorce yet again overwhelmed you. It’d destroyed him, was one of the major factors in his behavior toward you. Not to mention, you were terrified of the person he’d become after that, what poor girl would end up even worse off than you. You couldn’t think of anyone you’d wish that on, not even that bathroom showgirl.
You glanced at the clock, realizing you were going to be late for your first appointment if you didn’t get moving. You ran down the stairs to the front door, where someone from Elvis’ security detail was already waiting for you. Even though he drove you everywhere and was always waiting within a few feet of you, the freedom of being away from Graceland, from Elvis, was invigorating. You couldn’t give up on your own life so easily, just to satisfy him. Still, you were at a loss as to what you could do.
After the first appointment of the day, which was with a local hairdresser about doing your hair for the wedding, you went to yet another cake tasting and then to the florist. Half the day had gone by, and the security guard, who hadn’t said a word to you up until that point, asked if you wouldn’t mind if he stopped and got coffee somewhere. You agreed, hoping to have a few minutes to yourself. 
He pulled up to a coffee shop that was up the street, and you got out of the car with him.
“I’m just going to stretch my legs, get some fresh air,” you explained.
He stared at you for a moment, as if he didn’t believe you, but nodded before going into the coffee shop. Your mind raced with what you could do with the few minutes you’d been given that were truly your own. Looking around, you recognized this part of Memphis. There was a Greyhound station nearby. You had a few hundred bucks in your purse, more than enough to get you somewhere far away and a motel for a few nights. The rational part of your brain was telling you to take the risk, to run as far as you could, but all you had gathered the courage to do was walk over to a nearby payphone. You knew it’d be best for you to go, but your mind was filled with thoughts of him begging you not to leave, how you were all he had left.
You felt like some paranoid gangster looking over your shoulder every few seconds and calling from an outside line, but you couldn’t risk someone overhearing the phone call if you made it back at Graceland. Even this small act felt like a major betrayal toward Elvis compared to your fleeting thoughts of running away. Your hands shook as you dialed the only person you knew would be willing to hear out your side of the story. When your sister answered the line, you could barely hear her from the blood that seemed to be rushing in your ears.
“Kathy, hey,” you said.
“Y/N! I’m actually just packing for the wedding,” she said cheerfully.
“I–I need to talk to you about that.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t wanna do it,” you said, feeling yourself getting choked up.
“It’s okay to be nervous before getting married. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who wasn’t.”
“No, not like that. It wasn’t my idea, and I don’t want to get married to him. He told me if I didn’t he’d–well, he didn’t exactly say it, but he went to get one of his guns and I got so scared I just agreed,” you explained, crying by the time you finished your sentence.
Kathy was silent on the other end of the line. You knew it was a lot to spring on her with no warning, but it wasn’t like you had many other options. It was too late to try to run now, you’d wasted too much time being afraid. This had to count for something.
“You still there?” you whispered.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft, “Christ, Y/N, I had no idea. Where are you calling from? Are you safe?”
“I’m calling from a payphone in Memphis. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping, and I wouldn’t put it past him to bug the phones either. Someone’s always watching me over there, ya know? Even now he’s got someone with me.”
“Look, I’ll be there in a few days. I can’t come any sooner than then, but if you need anything, you call me, okay?”
The man walked out with his coffee, and you wiped your eyes as best as you could. “Yeah, thanks Kathy.”
“Sure, Y/N. See you in a few days,” she said.
You hung up, making your way back over. He thankfully didn’t question your call. There were still a handful of other stops you had to make in Memphis before returning to Graceland for the evening. You felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders with finally being able to tell someone what was really going on. Kathy probably wouldn’t be able to help you much, realistically, but maybe she could come up with something.
The rest of the day went smoothly, and you got back to Graceland feeling better than you had in a long time. It was odd, though, there were significantly less people around than on a usual night. You weren’t complaining, sometimes all the visitors could get overwhelming, especially when you had a long day but still felt the need to be a good hostess. It had been weird taking on that role when that had previously fallen on Priscilla. 
Elvis had opened the front door by the time you walked up the steps to the mansion. He gave you a kiss, pulling you inside. 
“Hey honey, how was your day?” you asked.
“It was fine, baby,” he said. “Runnin’ through Memphis today, huh?”
You nodded. “Felt like it. Is dinner ready?”
“In a few minutes,” he said, putting his arm around you and leading you into the dining room. 
You noticed only two plates were set at the table. “Is everyone else going out?”
“Figured it’d be nice if dinner was just us for tonight,” he said. “I know how tired you’ve been lately.”
Your smile was strained as you looked up at him. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”
The two of you waited in the living room together for the food to be brought out. Being in Graceland while it was so devoid of people was chilling, as if you were in a haunted house. You couldn’t remember the place being this empty before, and the familiar uneasiness whenever you were around Elvis settled over you. 
You hadn’t realized you zoned out until Elvis was waving his hand in front of you.
“Did you hear me, darlin’? Dinner’s ready.” 
“Right, sorry,” you said, joining him in the dining room. 
You sat adjacent to his seat at the head of the table. He liked you close by. You helped yourself to the food that was set out on the table, unnerved by the silence in the room besides the clinking of plates and utensils.
“Your sister called,” Elvis said nonchalantly. 
“What’d she have to say?” you asked, your eyes fixed on your plate.
“Said you’d called her in hysterics, something about me threatenin’ to kill you to get you to marry me.”
You froze, trying to stay as visibly calm as you could. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“No? Well, that’s good. I got everything straightened out, let her know you were just stressed and hadn’t been gettin’ much sleep,” he said, before pointing his steak knife at you. “But if you ever run and tell someone else our personal goddamn business again, I’ll actually kill you.”
I wish you would.
He looked at you in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“What?” you asked, before realizing you said the quiet part out loud. Your eyes widened. You had no idea how to respond. 
“So you can leave me like everyone else, that it?” 
You shook your head. “No, no, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
“I thought I got all that bullshit outta your head before we left Vegas, but we’re gettin’ married in less than a week, and you pull this?”
You could tell he was getting angrier with each passing second. Instead of responding, you ran. His voice seemed muffled as he shouted after you, and you found yourself in an empty guest room. It was the one you used to stay in when you’d go to Graceland, back when you were just Elvis’ assistant. Before all of this happened, before he decided he was in love with you–or something.
He was undoubtedly searching for you now, and you knew how the night was going to end. That much was inevitable from his mood as soon as you got home. As soon as he got the call from your sister, he was going to raise Cain. Numbness washed over you, muting any other emotion that threatened to bubble over. This was the rest of your life, whether you liked it or not. 
When he found you a few minutes later, you hardly reacted when he came in, raging at you for making him think you had actually left. You let out the faintest laugh at that. If only he’d known how close you’d come to doing so before you made the mistake of calling your sister. You didn’t even know how you could face Kathy at the wedding in a few days’ time.
Again, you supposed some of the blame could be put on yourself. You squandered your opportunity to leave because you were afraid of hurting him, after everything he’d done to you. You didn’t want to admit to yourself how you loved him to the point of putting yourself in danger, and perhaps at this point you’d come to need him as much as he needed you.
“Please, Y/N,” he implored, reaching over to caress your cheek. “I love you.”
You let out a shaky sigh, “I love you too. I love you so much.”
“Then why’d you tell Kathy all of that?”
“You scare me sometimes.”
“Darlin’, I only get this way because I can’t lose you. You know that, I get jealous and protective of you. That don’t mean you have to make up lies.”
“Lies?”
“I proposed to you on that stage in front of all those people. You said yes. Where’d you get all that nonsense about me pullin’ a gun?”
“You told me to go up to your room before the show even happened. When I said I didn’t think marrying you would be a good idea, you lost it and went for your gun case.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
You sat up from the bed, pushing his hand away from you. “You’re not going to make me out to be the crazy one here.”
“Yeah? And who’s going to take your word over mine when your own sister won’t?” he asked. “I’m tryin’ to be gentle with you. I know you got real scared that night in Vegas, but it’s like nothin’s enough for you.”
“You’re enough for me! Just you, how you used to be, when you were nice and funny and my friend! That’s who I want to marry next week!”
“That’s who you are marryin’.”
“No,” you whispered. “No, you’re not him. You’re someone I don’t even know.”
“You really are crazy.”
“Yeah, for loving you anyway. I shouldn’t, but I do. Against every self-preservation instinct I have, I’m not going to leave because I love you too much, even when you’re jealous and irrational and scare me half to death, I love you.”
“That’s why I need you. No one else loves those parts of me.”
“I know.”
“Let’s just go to bed, baby. I’ll forget this whole thing if you do.”
It seemed like forgetting incidents like that was becoming the touchstone of your relationship. You couldn’t believe he tried to tell you he never went for his gun case that day, as if the fear you felt in that moment didn’t shake you to your very core and cause you to realize the man you were about to marry wasn’t the man you’d fallen in love with when you first became his assistant. You were tired of fighting, though. So you nodded in agreement, allowing him to lead the way to your shared bedroom and pretend for the next week that everything was fine.
You decided to cancel whatever wedding planning appointments were remaining. Whatever you’d chosen so far would suffice. You weren’t going to lose sleep over a wedding you didn’t even want anyway. Of course, the night leading up to the ceremony you couldn’t sleep. 
Kathy had arrived at Graceland the night before, and as much as you wanted to give her the cold shoulder, it was nice having family around, and neither she nor Elvis mentioned the phone call you’d made prior to her arrival.
Early in the morning, you were overcome with nausea, and ran into a bathroom in the hallway, not wanting to wake Elvis up. In doing so, you woke up Kathy, who made her way into the bathroom with a glass of water for you.
“It’s just nerves,” she assured you. “Completely normal before getting married. You know I’ve heard it’s all over in a flash. That’s why you get all the photographers and stuff, the day is such a blur you don’t remember a thing.”
You hoped as much to be true. As little of the wedding as you could remember, the better. You were relegated to the top floor of Graceland leading up to the ceremony, since the main floor was being transformed for the following reception, which you knew would end up leaving that part of the house a mess, but it wouldn’t be your concern. As soon as the reception was over, you and Elvis would be headed to Hawaii for a hopefully uneventful honeymoon, but you held your breath at that.
Kathy was your maid of honor, you didn’t have anyone else in your wedding party. As far as you knew, Elvis’ best man was Jerry, and Vernon would be walking you down the aisle since your own father couldn’t make it. Elvis was insistent on not seeing you until the ceremony, whether for tradition’s sake or because he truly believed the superstition that seeing the bride in her dress before the ceremony would mean bad luck, you didn’t know. 
Even going the whole morning without seeing him, his presence was looming. Everyone was there for Elvis Presley’s wedding, bride be damned. You didn’t mind, it was more for him, anyway. Certainly not the shotgun wedding you had originally expected, but as more guests arrived and the time for the ceremony grew nearer, you wished the two of you had just gotten it over with at a courthouse. 
“Y/N, you gotta hurry up, the photographers want you outside for photos,” Kathy said through the bedroom door.
“I just need help with this one part of my dress,” you said. “It’s in the back, and I can’t reach it.”
“Y/N, you look beautiful. Here, let me help you with that,” she said when she entered the room.
“Any word from my future husband?”
“Not that I’ve heard. You ready?”
“No, but I guess I’ll never be,” you answered.
When you had gone to follow her outside to the photographers, you were taken aback by how much Graceland had transformed. It was a gorgeous house to begin with, but with the decorations you had picked out, it looked like a fairytale. You had to admit, as much as you pushed back on the swan ice sculpture when Elvis mentioned wanting one, it did look really nice. 
You didn’t have much time to gawk before you were pulled in all sorts of directions by the photographers waiting outside. You weren’t sure why there couldn’t be just one, but apparently Elvis wanted as much of the event documented as possible. The bridal photos took an hour to do, and by the end of it you could feel yourself sweating and were ready for the whole thing to be over with. 
Farther back on Graceland’s property, the ceremony had been set up, with rows of chairs out for everyone and a platform toward the front where Elvis was speaking to the minister, a preacher from a local church who the Presleys had known for years. Now confronted with the reality of the ceremony, any calm you had over the past few days had disappeared. At least with getting your hair and makeup done and putting the dress on, you could pretend it was dress up, distance yourself from what was actually going on. As you heard the faint ‘Here Comes the Bride’ melody playing, you began to hyperventilate.
Kathy began rubbing circles on your back. “Y/N, hey, just take deep breaths.”
“I can’t do this,” you said, pleading with Kathy. “Don’t make me do this.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“I told you I don’t want to. Why did you tell him?”
“Don’t try to ruin a good thing, Y/N. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your place?”
“Let them have it, then. I don’t want it,” you said. 
“It’s your cue,” she said. “The ceremony will be over before you know it.”
She led you to the end of the aisle, a gorgeous carpet that had been laid out, with the flower petals you’d chosen strewn about. Kathy wiped away the mascara that had run down your face a bit, and gave you a hug before going to stand with the rest of the wedding party. You gave a tight-lipped smile to Vernon, who seemed to be somewhat sympathetic.
“Nerves got ya?” he asked.
“Something like that,” you answered.
He nodded to the woman behind the keyboard, who began playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’ again, and you had to fight the urge to pass out. As you walked down the aisle, tears fell from your eyes. You were sure everyone in attendance was making note of how happy you were on the special day. It did make your heart pang a little when you saw Elvis’ expression, how he could hardly hold back his own tears at the sight of you.
Vernon brought you up to Elvis, who took your trembling hand in his. Your chest felt tighter than ever as you turned to face the minister.
“You’re so beautiful,” Elvis whispered so only you could hear. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
You couldn’t answer, unable to trust yourself not to beg for him to call the whole thing off. You wouldn’t be like Priscilla, who was able to leave even after having Elvis’ child. No, this was it for you. 
Your head was spinning by the time the minister got to the vows, and all you could manage was a soft-spoken, “I do,” when it was your turn. Till death do us part. He’d make sure of that much. 
A whirlwind of emotions overtook you when the minister announced, “I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.”
Elvis pulled you in for a heated kiss, to the cheers and applause from the guests in attendance and shuttering cameras of the photographers. It was too much like his ‘proposal’ to you, public and damning with approval from an unassuming audience. After the stunt with your sister, he probably figured he needed to make sure you were stuck with as many witnesses as possible to your willingness to marry him.
Before you could process that he had pulled away, he led you back down the aisle, everyone’s eyes on the two of you. The photographers began shepherding you and Elvis all over the place for wedding photos that you’d probably never be able to bring yourself to look at. Most of the guests were making their way over to the house for the reception, and about half an hour later, you and Elvis were too.
“I can’t believe you’re my wife,” he said with a bright smile, kissing your hand. 
“Me either,” you said. 
Satisfied with that answer, he kissed you again. The guests seated inside erupted in cheers and applause yet again when you and Elvis entered, and you two were ushered over to the head table. You hoped to god no one would ask you to make any sort of speech, what could you even say? 
You and Elvis sat together, and when Jerry went to make his speech as best man, you nearly threw up when he referred to you two as “Mr. and Mrs. Presley.” That was it. The first day of the rest of your life. As your eyes landed on every person staring at you and your now husband, you thought about how complacent they all were, how they let it happen. 
You were shocked when Elvis stood up to speak, to the delight of everyone present. “This wasn’t planned or nothin’, but I gotta say somethin’. Thank y’all for comin’ today. This is my second go at this, but I know it’s with the right woman this time. At my lowest, instead of runnin’ off like other people did, Y/N stood by me, because she really loves me, even when I’m actin’ foolish and ornery. That’s hard to find nowadays,” he said. “Y/N, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whispered.
He kissed you again, this time more quickly as someone else stood up to give a toast. “Elvis, Y/N, all my best. I can’t think of a better couple. When are you gonna get started on kids?” 
You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been gripping your glass until part of it shattered at the mention of kids, slicing into your hand. The sound of everyone’s laughter drowned out the glass breaking. Quickly, you hid it under the table, hoping no one noticed, only to hiss in pain when Elvis grabbed it. You looked at him in confusion, and he squeezed your wounded hand tighter, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 
“Think they know we beat ‘em to that one?” 
“What?”
“You don’t think your glass has got any alcohol in it, do ya?”
You gasped. “Oh my god. How did you–”
“Know? You’ve been throwin’ up every mornin’ for the past two weeks. I know that ain’t nerves,” he said, before smirking a bit, “‘Sides, if I’m wrong, we got the whole honeymoon to work on it.”
You looked down at your hand and found that the blood was still flowing, staining your dress beyond salvation. 
628 notes · View notes
wildelydawn · 8 months
Note
No I have to enquire about the ChanKim. Like. Legally. Like no actually I need it. Hello. Hi. Please. More of your delicious thoughts. I'm obsessed with you and your beautiful brain forever btw 💌
HELLO HI, welcome to my ChanKim agenda.
I have only a single thought: that ChanKim is violent and/or manipulative towards each other. I don't have more thoughts for you.
But.
I have two scenarios for you, if you want to read:
I. (tw: manipulation, implied sexual coercion)
“Do you wonder?” Kim whispers.
Chan says nothing. Averts his eyes like he does when the boy’s father gives him orders.
Boy. Not a boy. Kim hasn’t been a boy in years. At twenty three years old, the youngest son of the Theerapanyakun family is older. And more. Musician. Assassin. Model. Drug trafficker. 
A man. 
At nearly two decades his senior, Chan had watched him grow from petulant child to ruthless Mafia leader. Growth didn’t happen overnight; growth happened under Chan’s hand and discipline because Khun Korn could not be bothered to do it himself.
Chan had not realized that training Kim would result in Kim learning more than hand to hand combat. He could talk his way out of any scenario. Or worse, into. Chan recalls when Kinn deployed Kim and Chan to a client’s home. Kinn explained that the client had dues, and that the safe in his nightclub could pay for his debts handsomely if given the choice between it and his life.
Kim came back with the money and the deed to the club. And not a hair out of place, not a sweat broken.  The boy-turned-man had a predisposition to the art of manipulation. 
Chan should know. 
He’s being manipulated now. Kim’s been playing the long game. Chan figures he planted the seed years ago: insisting Chan spar with him when a younger bodyguard would be a better choice. Requesting Chan as his bodyguard and being obviously disappointed with Big’s appointment. Catching the man’s eyes, and if Kim’s lucky, his sleeve too. Just to remind Chan that smooth talking and violence were not the only traits that Kim developed over the years. Kim has a face, too. One that people like to look at, listen to, and that he could play it the minute Chan falters.
And now, Kim wants to go all in for whatever secrets his father has hidden in his study.
Chan expects the sleeve thing again: predictable. He has seen Kim’s dance before because it works. A touch. A pinch. Lean in, a mouth to their ear and then move away and leave them guessing and come back and pull on them, gently, let them believe that you see something they don’t, that you have answers they need. Offer them something sweet and intangible. Freedom. Purpose. Assurance. Peace. All of which are possible and fleeting, that secures them crawling back to you. Open the blinds. Close them. Check your phone, smile, put it away. He’ll tell you it’s okay. It’s safe now. You did good.
Chan doesn’t move, in case he does shoot Kim down, which would be the right thing to do. Chan will die amidst Korn’s chess game, but it’s a death he is contently anticipating. Korn had provided him with luxuries and pleasures, so Chan’s loyalties lie with Korn above all else, no matter how beautiful, young, spiteful, foolish, cunning, tempting Korn’s son appears.
But Kim doesn’t need to know that. 
“I wonder. I wonder all the time.”
-
II. (tw: blackmailing, violence, implied sexual assault/noncon)
Fuck.
Kim can feel eyes on his back. He knew coming back here would be a problem. But he has to know. Korn told him nothing besides his stupid resurrection plan that Kim holds little interest in. Unsatisfied, he crash landed into his father’s study, tearing open the books on the shelves, opening the locked drawer and finding no answers.
“Are you here to lecture me about how to keep a tidy room?”
Chan says nothing. So Kim keeps going. He takes out a knife and drags it across his father’s beloved arm chair. Worn stuffing and fabric explode out like a cartoon. Nothing. Next is the coffee table. Where was that tab? Ah yes, under, left hand side. Kim hits the switch, and another secret compartment within the table opens.
Nothing.
“You must know,” Kim drawls as he looks at the hideous globe on the shelf, hoping to beckon the man to slip out something. “Either Korn or Porsche told you.” He takes hold of it and lets it crash heavily to the ground. The ceramic shatters instantly. Hilariously, there is a kilogram of snow inside, but that’s hardly of interest.
“What do I know, Khun Kim?”
“Where they hid the brother,” Kim accidentally answers too quickly. 
But it’s over. The head bodyguard of the Theerapanyakun family has a smirk on his face. Chan has won. Kim can keep up the passive look, pretend that he has a fighting chance, but it’s over.
“I do know.”
Kim can get one more bite in though. It would feel damn good to do so. “Korn whispered it into your ear last night?”
In a flash, Chan pins Kim against the bookcase, his calloused hand around Kim’s throat. The wood digs painfully into his back and the furniture rattles alongside his bones.
“You should respect your father.”
“Does that include getting fucked in the ass by him?” Kim grits out. He’s not afraid. Chan has done much worse for far less. “Must be nice knowing all your needs are taken care of.”
Chan’s grip tightens. There’s no pain though. Something else, something so hideous runs through Kim as Chan’s face clouds over. 
“I can give you the location tomorrow, if you'd rather.”
Kim’s body goes numb and it is not Chan’s doing. Tomorrow is too late. Vegas and Gun will be here in hours. Kinn and Porsche will take up arms against him, and by the looks of his uncle’s army and his cousin’s idiocy, there is a very good chance none of them will make it out alive.
But Porchay can. Porchay can make it out alive. 
“Or you can behave,” Chan says quietly. “And when you’re done, I’ll give you the coordinates. And you can run off and play house with the brat for as long as you want.”
Kim closes his eyes; Chan loosens his hand; Kim, defeated, reaches for the guard’s dress pants. 
“It’s a pity you destroyed your father’s armchair. I quite liked bending you over it.”
IF YOU READ ALL OF THIS, THANKS :)
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dreamlessinparis · 2 years
Text
Everything You Ever Wanted
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Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Wife!Laura, Steve Kemp x Ex!Laura (but can be read as a reader insert for the most part, no descriptions)
Word Count: 3948
Summary: When an old flame from her past threatens to mess up the life she has, Laura will do anything to help her husband
Warning: explicit sexual content, daddy kink, praise, degration, mentions of selling people/cannibalism (not explicit, just a threat at the end), double penetration, angst, fluff, voyeurism, threesomes, blackmail, manipulation, step-cest, nicknames, teasing, cumplay, double crossing, fingering, mentions of kidnapping, explicit language, 18+
A/N: I wrote this as a little present to my lovely friend @sweeterthanthis. Happy Birthday Laura! You are such an inspiration to me and you’re always there when I need to chat about anything and also fuel my dirty thoughts. So this one’s for you, I hope you enjoy it! I love you very much and I hope you’re having a wonderful day! 💖💖💖🥰🎂🎂🎂Thank you to @sparkledfirecracker for reading it over for me. All mistakes are my own. 
if you’re a minor, please DNI!
Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)
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You entered the Sheriff’s office, bringing Lee the lunch he forgot and to file a complaint about how he hadn’t kissed you goodbye before he left this morning. Not really paying attention to where you were going, you ran right into someone.
“Oh I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized, taking a step back to look at the person you’d just run into, “Steve?”
“Hi darling, long time no see,” Steve smiled down at you. It had been years since you’d seen your ex-boyfriend. He looked terrific and you couldn’t stop staring at him. His soft brown hair was wavy and kept falling on his face. Your fingers itched to push it back.
“Kemp, what are ya doin’, loiterin’ in my doorway,” Lee hollered, lumbering out of his office. He came to stand next to the younger man, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, “oh hiya Toots, whatcha doin’ here?”
Maybe it was wrong to be standing in the presence of your ex and your husband, fantasizing about being spit roasted by them atop Lee’s desk. But fuck if that stopped your mind. You shifted your stance to avoid being obvious about squeezing your thighs together beneath your sundress. 
“Am I not allowed to come to see you, Sheriff?” You asked coyly. “Especially since you gave me your last name?”
Steve’s eyes seemed to snap down to the ring on your hand. He let out a chuckle; a short shocked yet almost knowing sound. 
Lee reached forward, looping an arm around your waist, and pulled you into him. He kissed the top of your head, hand roaming down to palm your ass. “Of course, sweet one, was just surprised to see ya, is all.”
He returned his gaze back to Steve as you nuzzled into his soft frame, “you leavin’, Kemp?”
“Yes Sheriff,” Steve smirked, tipping an invisible hat towards the two of you, “good seeing you, sweetheart.” As if to irritate Lee further, Steve gave you a peck on the cheek, lingering to whisper in your ear, “I see you swooped right in after mommy’s sudden disappearance, eh?”
He leaned back, giving you a final wink, and left the office before you could collect yourself to respond.
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Your mother had always been a reckless woman and when she married Lee while you were at college, you weren’t exactly surprised. What surprised you was how much you liked Lee. Probably more than a step-daughter should. Yet you managed to keep your feelings a secret until one stormy night right after your college graduation.
Ironically you and Steve had broken up weeks earlier over a secret he refused to tell you. He had come back from summer vacation almost a new person and you couldn’t figure out why. Feeling untrusted and vulnerable you ended up leaving him and came home heartbroken.
Mother was away on a girls’ trip, leaving you and Lee alone at the house. The two of you were sat in the living room, on opposite ends of the sofa, watching whatever horror he’d chosen for the week. Lee had bonded with you over many things, especially twisty movies thus ensuing a movie night. It was an almost routine thing but sometimes he had to work late but he always made it up to you. 
Halfway through the movie, lightning struck and everything went black. Luckily for you two, you tended to light a bunch of candles any chance you got, so you weren’t in complete darkness. 
“Should come back in a moment,” Lee reassured, patting your foot comfortingly. It always made you wonder whether he felt this electricity between you or if it was all in your head. 
You nodded, pulling the blanket up and snuggling further into the couch. “Did you have a good day?”
God, why did you feel the need to make small talk?
Internally cringing, you risked a glance at Lee, who was leaning back in his seat, one hand on his belly, the other on his ankle.
“T’was alright. Saw this man - nah this boy - tryin’ to flirt with Susie. Y’know Susie from the diner?” He paused, waiting for a response. You hummed and he continued his story about how Tommy was striking out with his pick-up lines. “Do those damn things even work?”
You giggled and answered completely without thinking about who you were talking to, “I wouldn’t know. Pick-up lines aren’t really my thing. I’d rather be pinned down, not picked up.”
The next thing you knew, Lee had tugged you down by your ankle and shifted to cage you onto the couch. “That so, little one? Shoulda said somethin’ sooner. Plenty’a surfaces I coulda pinned you against.”
Your initial shock had dissipated and bravery had settled in. His hardening cock was pressed against your thigh and you were willing to do anything to fit throbbing against your cunt, “Better late than never, Daddy,” you replied, watching his eyes darken at the word before leaning up to kiss him.
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After that, things had progressed naturally in secret. Your mom had been none the wiser, but she still remained an obstacle, one that was clawing at your jealousy anytime she kissed Lee. You loved her though and as much as you wanted Lee, you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt her. 
Luckily you didn’t have to. Her disappearance was sudden and at first, people assumed she’d gone away on a vacation, yourself included. As time passed you grew worried, but slowly you began to accept her absence, and over time as bad as it sounded, you were relieved that you didn’t have to get rid of her yourself. 
The people in town didn’t question your “new” blossoming relationship with Lee. Chalking it up to two grieving souls, finding love in the darkest of times. 
Five years later and you were happily married, still very much in love. 
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Lee never talked about your mother, and sometimes you wondered if it was because he missed her. After her death, Lee helped deal with all the red tape things, making sure you were provided for. Maybe provided for a bit too well for his Sheriff’s salary. 
The conversation had come up once but he had claimed that a favor to a friend had earned him quite a lot of money. What the favor was, or to whom, never came up. You trusted him enough to let it slide but it didn’t quench the curiosity that bloomed in your gut afterwards.
Nothing would break him, not even when you had him tied up, edging him for close to an hour. The man was locked tight. Little did you that you didn’t even have to put in that much effort, that the truth was coming for you faster than you realized. 
Your mother had not been the only female in town to have disappeared, happening almost like clockwork every six months, and Lee seemed less concerned than he should have been. Your mother was the first you’d paid attention to and you had thought she had left on her own account until six months later, another girl was gone. But it was only when your closest friend went missing shortly after walking home with you, that you found his lack of concern extremely alarming. 
“Lee?” You asked, walking into the bedroom, rubbing lotion into your hands. His head popped up from the book he was reading, eyes darkening at the sight of you in your burgundy silk nightgown. You tried to not show how much he affected you, especially when you needed him to focus.
“Yes, little one?”
“I’m worried,” you confessed, climbing onto the bed, straddling his half-naked frame. You rested your hands on his belly and worked your way up his body until they were wrapped around his neck. His large hands splayed on your lower back, rubbing up and down. 
“About what?” He asked, leaning in for a kiss. One kiss led to several but before he could deepen it, you pulled back.
“The missing women. What if I’m next?”
“Why would you think that?”
“They took my best friend, Lee. Who’s to say I won’t be.”
“You won’t,” Lee said sternly.
“Come on, be serious,” you argued, “even mom’s disappearance was weird. Maybe that was connected too.”
“Your mom’s disappearance might not have been a disappearance. For all we know she left on her own accord. You know how terrible with commitment she was.”
“Maybe, but I’m still scared.”
“Laura, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised and the sincerity in his voice made you believe him, a weird relief flooding your body. Lee gave you a soft kiss, putting an end to the conversation. You shifted topics, trailing one of your hands down the dense hair on his chest. 
A groan rumbled from his chest, urging you to keep going lower. His hips rolled up to grind his erection against you. The need to give into him was building but you wanted to ask him one more thing before you did. “What was Steve doing at the station the other day?”
Lee huffed, sagging back into the headboard, obviously not liking your question, “really, Laura?”
“Please Daddy, I just want to know.”
“He wants a threesome.”
“A threesome?” You asked in disbelief.
“A threesome,” Lee repeated, not meeting your eyes, choosing to stare at your breasts instead. His offer thrilled you, you weren’t going to lie, but it was so sudden and extremely random. Coming only a week after your run in at the station.
“With him?”
“Yes,” Lee said, through half-gritted teeth. He let out a slow breath and finally met your eye, “Look toots, years ago, Steve did me a favor and I never fully repaid him. He’s come to collect and this is what he wants. Well actually he wanted ya alone but I wasn’t havin’ none’a that.”
You leaned in closer, pressing your body to his, and kissing along his stubbled jaw. 
“So if we do this, your debt will be paid?”
“Yes darlin’,” his hands came to rest on your hips. Your body instinctively reacted to him, your hips grinding down. Lee moaned, bucking up, “Can feel how wet you are, sugar. All that for Daddy? Or are you a little slut, getting excited by the thought of being used by two men?”
You let out a soft whine, his words breaking down your will and creating an image in your head, so vivid and clear. “Both, Daddy. I want it so bad.”
“Anythin’ for my pretty wife,” Lee smirked, taking the reins back from you. “Now be a good girl and ride me. Daddy’s had a long day and you’re my favorite stress relief.”
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It made you slightly nervous that Steve had insisted on coming over to your house. Stating his house was not suited for guests. What did that even mean? Was it too small? Too messy? Was he married? Did he have dead bodies buried in the backyard? All these questions plagued you as you spent the day cleaning and cooking up a feast with the meat that Steve sent over. All thank for hosting gift, you supposed. Either way you made sure to make all of Lee’s favorites.
He was oddly agitated and that only made your nerves worse. Usually he was the one to keep you calm.
Exactly at six o'clock, the door bell rang and you heard Lee grunt as he got off his recliner to answer it. You had managed to time everything perfectly, pulling the roast out of the oven and placing it on the table as Lee entered the room with Steve. 
Steve was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, rounding the table to hand them to you and gathering you up in a tight hug. Holding you a bit too long. Lee cleared his throat loudly twice before he released you. Steve's smoky musk scent left your mind muddled and you had to collect yourself for a moment.
You served both men before sitting down. The meal itself was quiet, the anticipation crackling through the air, making it hard to breathe. Your eyes kept bouncing between your husband and your ex, wondering how this was going to go. 
"This was delicious, Laura," Steve complimented, wiping his mouth after his last bite of pecan pie. 
"That's my wife for ya. Makes the best food in town," Lee boasted, puffing his chest. His possessive stance was almost caveman-like. 
You shook your head, giggling as you stood up, beginning to clear the table. "Thank you Steve, I've gotten better over the years."
As you took the plates to the kitchen, you heard Steve say, "must be nice, Bodecker. If I remember correctly your last wife wasn't much of a cook," to which Lee seemed to hiss something incoherent. 
It still wasn't clear to you what their relationship was exactly. Lee was never welcoming of Steve when you were dating. It still seemed strange that he had become indebted to Steve.
You stood in front of the sink, unsure of whether to start the dishes or to go back into the dining room. Luckily Lee chose for you, entering the kitchen and coming up to press himself against your back. "How you doin', Toots?"
He kissed up the nape of your neck and you felt the tension release from your body, melting into him. "I'm not sure," you admitted. Lee turned you around to face him, his eyes surveying your face. He was searching for something, almost like he was going to put an end to things if he sensed something off. 
"Are you still willing to do this?" He asked. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him hard. Lee groaned into your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours. The two of you were lost in the heated kiss, his hands grabbing your waist and lifting you up to sit on the counter. 
Lee left your lips, continuing down your neck as his hands slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers teasing along your inner thighs, "Daddy," you whined, spreading your legs wider, trying to guide him to where you need him. Both of you forgetting about the man in the other room.
"Such a needy wife," Lee mumbled against the delicate skin of your collar bones. Your body clenched at his words, arousal pooling between your hips. "Are you gonna be a good little slut for me?"
You whimpered, digging your nails into his biceps. Lee pulled back, his piercing eyes dark with lust and he grabbed your chin, turning you towards the doorway of the kitchen. Steve was standing there, watching the two of you, his hand palming his growing erection.
Lee's free hand dipped between your legs, slipping two fingers beneath the gusset. You were soaked and he now knew it, coating his fingers before pushing them into you. A strangled moan fell from your lips, eyes fluttering shut.
"Eyes on me, baby. I wanna watch you fall apart," Steve demanded. 
Lee's lips found the shell of your ear, "be good for Daddy and do as he says, little one."
You gave a jerky nod, as you struggled to open your eyes. Lee's fingers pumped in and out of your wet channel, stroking your silky walls with expert precision. He knew you like the back of his hand, having the ability to make you unravel so quickly. 
The squelching sounds of your cunt filled the kitchen, combining with your soft pants. 
"So fucking wet," Lee said, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot. Steve's eyes were locked to yours as Lee continued to take you apart, his lips peppering your heated skin. 
Steve licked his lips, his gaze growing more heated. You felt so exposed like he was undressing you with his eyes. The situation had your whole body tingling with excitement and you clenched around Lee, making him chuckle against your skin. He was enjoying your reaction.
Your eyes dragged down the length of Steve's body, taking in his black button down and black slacks. Even against the dark fabric, you could make out the shape of his cock. Your mouth watered, and you wanted him to take himself out.
"You look pretty like that, baby. How's that feel?" Steve asked. He began to come closer to you and the sexual electricity crackled with each step.
"Fuck," you breathed, "so good."
"I feel you flutterin' around me, darlin'. You gonna come for me?"
"Can I, Daddy?" You asked, your tone almost a whimper. Lee nodded, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss. He quickened his pace, grinding his palm against your clit. Fireworks exploded behind your eyes as your orgasm crashed over you. Lee swallowed all the noises you made, as if he didn't want to share them with Steve just yet. 
You came down from your high, breathing heavily and took in the two men. Both of them were eyeing you with a hunger that threatened to ruin you and you found your nerves had been replaced with lust. 
"My turn," Steve stated, stepping forward. Lee snarled, blocking his path.
"We do things my way, Kemp, or not at all. You'll have your turn on my terms. Got it?"
Steve held up his hands, placating Lee, but his eyes were full of mischief. You knew he was humoring Lee, especially since your husband was the one in debt.
Lee helped you off the counter, and the three of you headed to your bedroom. 
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Steve stood by your bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he watched Lee help you out of your dress. His eyes were hot on your skin as they followed Lee's hands mapping out the curves of your body.
Lee kissed down your spine as he pulled your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. "Lie on the bed, Kemp," Lee ordered and Steve did as he was told.
He sat up on his elbows, making sure to keep his eyes on you. Lee stood behind you, palming your breasts possessively, kneading them. His fingers tweaked your nipples, tugging on them hard to make your body arch. You keened, grinding back against his cock. 
You were disappointed that he was still wearing his pants so you could feel his velvety girth against your ass. But your mind was easily distracted as Lee bit on your pulse point, making you moan.
"I want you to take Steve's cock out, little one, and make him feel good," Lee ordered.
"With my mouth, Daddy?"
"With that pretty pussy, baby. Get all nice and wet so Daddy can slide right in too." His words made you clench and you eagerly nodded, going forward to straddle Steve.
Steve's hands grabbed your hips, allowing you to grind your bare cunt on his clothed erection. You could hear Lee undressing behind you and you wanted to peek but he wouldn't be too happy with you if you didn't do as you were told.
Your hands trailed down the window of his unbuttoned shirt, fingertips tracing his smooth skin, to the buckle of his pants. You made quick work of undoing them, pulling his cock free. He was thick, and throbbing in your hand. Giving him a couple pumps as you dragged the tip through your swollen folds. 
Steve's head fell back, his face twisted in pleasure. Lining him up, you sank down on his length. The stretch burned but was welcomed and you rocked your hips until you took in every inch. 
"God, you feel amazing," Steve groaned, "I almost forgot how tight you were."
Planting your hands on either side of Steve's head, you began to roll your hips. Slowly building up your pace. Steve lifted his head to suck on your nipples, giving each other equal attention.
"Steve," you keened, rolling your hips down harder. His hands dug into the soft skin of your waist and he began to buck up to meet your motions.
The pressure was beginning to build in your core again and it wasn't long before your second orgasm flooded your body. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so hard, I'm not gonna last long."
"Not yet Kemp," Lee growled, "I want to be in there when you fill her."
Steve's body tensed, as he held himself back. You felt another set of hands on your waist and Lee lifted you up, flipping you over so you could see your husband. Your hands braced you up and Steve's hands on your hips kept you steady.
Lee guided Steve's cock back into you, his other hand jerking his own cock. You watched his hand go up and down his long cock. Lee was bigger than Steve in all ways, and he always left you aching anytime he fucked you but you craved him. Wanting him to split you in two any chance he got.
His tip nudged against Steve's cock, pushing in slowly beside him. You gripped handfuls of the sheets beneath you, watching as he stretched you out further.
"Look at this greedy little cunt, pullin' me in. You see this, baby?" Lee groaned as he continued to push in inch by inch, "See how good you're doin', takin' all of me."
"Made for you," you said in a slurred voice, overwhelmed with pleasure to properly form words. 
"Exactly, little one. Made just for me," he snapped his hips forward, bottoming out those last few inches. You let out a shriek, which was cut short by Lee's hand wrapping around your throat. 
The two men slammed in and out of you, your slick allowing them to glide easily against each other, grunting as they fucked you. The only thing you could do was hold on and let them use you. 
Steve's hand slipped down through your curls, his middle finger finding your clit as he began to rub vicious little circles. Harder and harder until the coil snapped once more. You came hard, arousal gushing out around these cocks.
Neither of them lasted long after that. Steve came first, his hand gripping your hip tight as he shouted your name. Lee seemed to be holding out until Steve came, wanting to claim you last. His hand tightened around your throat, as he pressed his forehead against yours.
"Gonna fill you up, little one," he growled, "so full, you're gonna feel me drippin' outta ya for days."
You tried to nod, words escaping you as you tried to convey your need. With a final thrust, he moaned and came, shooting his thick ropes of cum into you, mixing with Steve's.
You must have blacked out somewhere around where they pulled out of you, and Lee began using his fingers to push back in cum that was escaping because the rest was a blur and you didn't come to until Lee had you tucked in bed. He kissed your forehead and began to leave.
"Daddy," you mewled and he shushed you, keeping you down as you tried to sit up.
"I'll be back, Toots. Just gonna show our guest out."
You nodded sleepily, snuggling back in.
"Sweet dreams, Laura," Steve said as he also kissed your forehead. If you weren't so tired, you'd have giggled at the sound of disgust Lee made, "Don't get antsy, Bodecker, I did get rid of her mother for you. The least you can do is let me kiss her goodbye."
"You got your dues, Kemp. Our debt is settled."
"Our debt isn't settled until every last bit of her is gone. She's a rather tough one to sell, something about her being a bit too hard to chew."
The words didn't make sense to you, almost as if you were dreaming them. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lee spat, "what else do you want?"
"Don't worry, Lee. I'm sure we'll be able to figure out a suitable arrangement. Maybe next time you'll let me take Laura out for the night."
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193 notes · View notes
misty-caligula · 1 year
Text
Unhinged S2 theories
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Okay let’s get unhinged for a second. And take this to logical conclusions.
https://www.tumblr.com/misty-caligula/716477558946971648/this-is-my-big-one-for-s2e6-and-its-the-thing
I’ve already talked (a lot) about how I genuinely believe that someone is manipulating Lott, and that she’s been secretly taken off her meds.
So who? And why? At this point I’m leaning towards a theory that the cult is becoming self-aware, and is actively growing outside of Lott’s direction. I think there’s a inner circle below her (I think Lisa might be in it, I think that drum circle guy from ep6 is in it) that’s started to plot and scheme, that’s maybe more aware of Lott’s situation than we think, and is actively trying to push her to become the antler queen once more.
Do they NEED to know about what happened in the wild? No. Not necessarily. She could just be... an inspiring, powerful person they feel is not living up to her potential.
Or...
Did she blab? Did she break the oath? Did someone get access to her psych notes? Did someone learn things she’s said in therapy? Did she talk about specifics? While she was in Switzerland?
Or...
Did Adam ACTUALLY get more access to Shauna than we think? Was it a big misdirect to have Jeff blackmailing them... to cover the fact that Adam was genuinely a plant? DID HE ACTUALLY GET ACCESS TO HER DIARIES and we just ASSUMED it was Jeff???
Is moustache cop an incompetent idiot? Or .... is he not trying to get a conviction? Is he just trying to get into Shauna’s head? Is HE a plant??
Is WALTER a citizen detective who just wants to learn things about stuff...? OR is he a plant, a perfect connection for Misty, down to the showtunes.
THE SHOWTUNES THO okay so follow with me... Misty INSTANTLY picks up on the showtunes.
Misty’s SO sus on Walter from the first moment she sees him. She doesn’t miss much when it comes to like, facts and stuff, and she clocks him the moment she HEARS his voice. And he’s OBSESSED with her (like Adam’s obsessed with Shauna!) and okay so they’re so similar, so weirdly in tune, but Misty is uncomfortable because she doesn’t click with similar. The last time she did Crystal died.
Then they’re in the car and he brings out the showtunes and Misty smells a rat. She IMMEDIATELY clocks that he knows her too well, it’s just too much, too fast, and too big of a coincidence. And he tells her that he just really likes showtunes, it’s all just a misunderstanding, and she goes “Well I don’t even LIKE showtunes” and he CALLS HER BLUFF AND THEN SHOWS HER ONE HE KNOWS SHE WON’T LIKE.
HOW DOES HE KNOW??
It comes off as a good read, as a fun moment, but HE KNOWS HER TOO WELL AND SHE KNEW IT!
“Being a yellowjacket’s the least interesting thing about you” he says HE’S LYING HE’S A CITIZEN DETECTIVE, IT’S AN INCREDIBLY INTERESTING THING ABOUT HER!
“It was like 30 years ago” HE’S LYING HE’S A CITIZEN DETECTIVE HE DOESN’T MAKE THESE KINDS OF ERRORS, HE KNOWS IT WAS EXACTLY 25 YEARS AGO!!!!
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And then and then he’s like, sending her messages after she’s already told him to go away which ISN’T LIKE HIM he didn’t even argue when she told him to fuck off AND the drum circle guy is like, PUSHING IT he’s like “Hmmmmm had a breakup??? hmmm?? what about that walter guy? hmmmm??” and like... as SOON as she mentions Nat they’re like “YOU KNOW NAT?? Please, tell us every tiny detail you know about this woman while we sit here and listen intently.”
*takes a breath*
I feel like I’m going mad. There’s too many data points and too many unanswered questions. Too many coincidences. And I think... that that is the point.
In the teen timeline nothing is as it seems, there is no solid grounding. You’re meant to be able to slip whatever your interpretation is onto the top of it, you’re meant to have your expectations both met and refuted all at once. You’re meant to question your own reality.
I mean....
Laura was ALWAYS going to die in that plane, right? Right? Then why did we think she wouldn’t?
The baby was NEVER going to make it. Right? Then why did we allow them to give us half an ep where we really thought it had?
Jackie was ALWAYS going to die and there were people who 100% were waiting for some twist to save her til the moment they ate her.
This show is just really really good at making us question what’s right in front of us in the teen timeline.
Why ... the hell... would we expect different in the adult? Why WOULD it be all just normal and easily explained coincidences? Why would it be just trauma responses and nothing more? Why CAN’T it be a malicious conspiracy? But then.. why WOULD it be a malicious conspiracy? Neither makes total sense, neither perfectly fits, I feel like we’re missing key information. And I don’t know about you, but it’s making ME feel paranoid. And I honestly think that’s the point.
Maybe the cult really IS a dangerous thing that’s going out of its’ way to destroy them all. Maybe its trying to bring back the antler queen, maybe Lisa is evil, maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe...
Or maybe it’s just putting 1+1 together and having trauma add another 1 without realising and getting 3. Because that’s the REAL shit, that’s the nightmare of being un-fun mentally ill, is that once you stop being 100% confident of your ability to perceive things accurately you’ll never get that certainty back. You’ll never trust another thing you think or feel ever again, and the moment you stop questioning your world it’ll make you panic and worry you’re missing something... Ask me how i know.
At this point I’m going to just say I do not know what’s Really Going On with the cult. I am 100% confident that Lott’s being manipulated. Beyond that? ... all I have is vibes and ideas and feeling adrift. I’m so impressed at this show for managing to throw me this hard and I’m unbelievably curious to see what else it has to offer.
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