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entirelytoooobsessed · 2 months

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needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post

synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.

warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it

The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.

What a delightful feeling.

What a human desire.

“Touch me.”

The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind.

“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return.

“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.

“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is.

“Your name?” You mutter slowly.

“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.

Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you.

You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.

You don’t mind now.

“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back.

He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”

His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.

The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands.

With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?

“Hmm? Just what?”

He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you.

You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.

But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.

Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.

Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before.

Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.

But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.

He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.

You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.

“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.

“No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off. “No, n-no, don’t wan’you to leave…”

You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”

He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.

You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper.

“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”

You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth.

You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.

The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.

A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.

Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.

“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~”

His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.

Perhaps…

“Kiss me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”

He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.

“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“You know we can’t. You-“

“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”

A losing fucking battle.

Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight.

All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.

And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.

He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein.

It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips.

He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using.

Just like he told you to do.

He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises.

You’d show him what real ascension felt like.

You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.

To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.

You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting.

He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”

You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin.

And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.

In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.

Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat.

He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.

But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.

So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.

Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.

Like he wants you to.

He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down.

Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced.

He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.

And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.

He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.

He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.

For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.

But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.

Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.

But he stops you.

His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.

Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.

"I promise, I will."

And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.

Just you.

"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."

He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.

But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.

To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.

His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.

"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."

He always has been one for dramatics.

His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.

"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.

He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

And he's crying. And he's beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.

"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"

You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours.

"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.

“Satoru,” And he shakes.

“Satoru,” And he sobs.

“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.

“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.

Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.

Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.

Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.

Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.

"You love me right?"

You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.

But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.

"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.

"Do you love me?"

You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.

"I do love you Satoru."

And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.

But that doesn't matter.

Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.

"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.

And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.

“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”

“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”

You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”

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imrllytootiredforthis · 3 months

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you know how cats like when you scratch above their tailbone

that but with lee know, like

if your fucking him from behind, just scratch and stroke over his tailbone, its enough to get him coming untouched

and the way he mewls like a kitten...

kitty~

lee know x reader

warnings: dom reader, sub lee know, reader fucking him though could be w a strap or a dick, cumming untouched, kitty lino, idk what else

a/n: help, help, help, anon you are 😵‍💫🙏, this is really short and kinda shit bc i haven't written in forever but found this in my inbox and couldn't resist

it happens when you're fucking into him, ass up and head buried into the pillows bc poor baby is too embarrassed to let you hear the downright slutty whines and pleads dripping from his lips one after another as you ram into prostate over and over.

any other day you'd tug him up by his hair, wrap your hand around his throat and pull his back flush to your chest. making his head spin by placing your lips beside his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe while you whispered such dizzying things to him.

but you're feeling nice today-or cruel.

with you, he finds that the two are often intertwined; one and the same really. able to bring him to the brink of insanity, leaving him drowning in the pool of your desire.

mercy is delivered in the form of sweet words and honeyed praises that seep into his skin, making him delirious like venom. and mercy is injected into him in the cruel way you thrust, pulling hoarse whines from him with every jolt of your hips: rough, demanding, animalistic, just the way he likes it.

"oh kitty~" you coo, and he mewls, proving the point you've made. "so pathetic." and you were right. you make him feel like he's melting, drooling into a puddle for you to mold and remake into whatever you pleased.

you sigh, "so messy," another truth, you were almost worried for your sheets with the amount of pre-cum he was leaking. "you gonna purr for me next? like a good kitty?"

he clenched around you, delightfully so.

he just looks so much like a cat right now.

the cat ears you had so lovingly placed in his hair, matching in colour so well they fit in seamlessly they might as well be real.

the way his hips sway, grinding back onto you to match your thrusts. you swear if he had a tail it would be flicking back and forth. wrapping around your thigh or ankle, trying to find some form of holding onto you- stay sane in the depths of this haze.

you were sure if he could purr, it would be loud enough for you to hear no matter how much he'd try to hide them. you could still hear his muffled mewls and cute hiccupy gasps even now.

just like a cat.

your pretty kitty, your lino.

and maybe...just maybe...

experimentally, cautiously (because much like a cat, you knew he didn't need to be provoked much to bite) you pressed your hand, lightly against his tailbone.

his reaction was immediate, and obvious, startlingly so.

his back arched. his thighs trembling, keening as he pressed back against you, grinding needily, like he couldn't get enough, like he could never get enough.

so you pressed slightly harder, rubbing small circles to the area, ripping high desperate mewls as he spasmed around you. unable to help his head snapping back, looking at you with wide, watery eyes as he came, dirtying the already ruined bedding with his spend.

you couldn't bring yourself to care at this point.

and he couldn't either.

you hummed, amused as you watch him slump onto the dirtied sheets, completely boneless. a quiet cry following when you slipped out of him.

"well that's something new~"

"-you...-you are never doing that again." he huffs, quietly, with little deliberation. with just enough force, in a way that you know he's going to be begging for it in less time than one may think with a stubborn, steadfast man such as your lino.

you only laughed and he shuddered at the sound.

"we'll see, kitty."

a/n: please, please give me a little slack if this is awful-the thoughts took over i wrote this in like half an hour in a moment of weaknessssss😫 i can't control them anymoreeeee

also ik i have a taglist i'll prolly get that out later today if i ever get it out at all😭

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genacity · 6 months

Text

DAY SIX. BURNING TIES

ft. simon “ghost” riley — call of duty

you and your partner ghost have to train on how to get out of hostage situations. luckily for you, you’re good at tying knots.

ruling. suggestive — mature content

content warnings. sadist! reader, masochist! ghost, bondage, temperature/wax play, nothing actually inherently sexual ?? besides vocabulary and the fact ghost has his cock out

an. this is short and bad bcs tbh i didn’t wanna write this one and idk how to write ghost. enjoy

kinktober 2023 masterlist

simon groaned as you held the lit candle over his exposed skin. grunting against the restraints you had so effortlessly used to tie him flush against the metal pole that rendered him near motionless.

you were supposed to be training for a hostage situation— said that tying him up was supposed to help.

and now, he was staring at his flush cock being illuminated by the light of a long, flickering candle. where the hell did you even get one of those?

but he didn’t dare question it. not when his eyes were watching as the wax slowly began to melt down and—

“fuck!” simon thrashed against the ties with a loud groan as the drop of wax fell right onto his lower abdomen. he gulped, panting as he tried to find his way out of the rope restraints.

“hurry up,” you prompted. “if you’re this slow in a real situation, by now you’d might as well be dead.”

he hissed. “can’t help it, it’s— shit!” simon was promptly cut off as another drop of wax hit his skin, just at the base of his cock. “fuck, that hurts!”

you laughed as he jolted from another fresh splat of wax hit his skin. “this hurts? wow, i’d expected a lot more from you.” you chuckled, and ghost grunted in response.

the ropes slowly began to loosen around his wrists. good, he was close to freeing himself somehow. simon couldn’t take any more of this— never had this been a way he’d trained to handle a hostage situation.

a large glob of fresh wax dripped down from the burning candle right down onto the base of his cock and right then and there he could have screamed. when you proposed the idea of using wax to better the training, never did he imagine it would hurt so bad.

it was borderline cruel the way you laughed as he struggled. the way you just sat and watched him nearly cry at every drop of wax that hit his skin.

simon was just about to free himself from the restraints holding his arms down when a drop of wax hit his tip and he moaned.

not out of pain. this was a pleasurable moan. not like before, when every noise was a grunt or groan of pain. this was a rough, strained, unmistakable noise of pleasure.

your eyebrows raised and simon froze, no longer struggling to move. “what was that?”

“nothin’.” he dismissed, continuing to writhe against the ropes. but you bent down and held the candle just above his twitching cock— reddening tip flushing from the heat beating down from the candle onto his skin.

“that was not nothing.” you insisted. “did that feel good, simon?”

you tipped the candle as another fresh drip of wax dribbled from the tip of the candle and simon visibly began to panic. it clung to the rim, threatening to fall, and when it did, fresh onto his shaft, he jolted and moaned again.

you couldn’t stifle your laughter. not when you watched his hips buck up, thick cock nearly tearing through the flame and burning himself. it would have if you hadn’t pulled it back.

“oh my god.” you snickered. he panted, still focused on trying to escape the confinements of the rope.

“this ain’t funny, y/n.” simon grumbled, but was promptly cut off by another droplet of wax onto his balls and he choked. “ah. hey, fuck.” his expressions and reactions were just too good to stop short.

good thing you brought a few more candles.

#@ genacity kinktober 2023 ! 🩸 ☆#sub ghost #sub simon riley #sub cod #dom reader #sub character #dom reader smut #sub character smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kinktober

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wandagcre · 8 days

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Hii! How you doing?

I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.

Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.

WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.

That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.

You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.

You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.

So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.

What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.

She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.

"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.

You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.

"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.

Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"

She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.

You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.

It was dowright ridiculous.

Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.

"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.

You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"

"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.

You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.

It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.

You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.

The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.

Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.

You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.

The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.

But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.

One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.

"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.

The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.

"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"

"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.

At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.

You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.

Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.

All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.

It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.

Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.

When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.

She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.

"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"

"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.

Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.

For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.

Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.

You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.

"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"

"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.

You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.

"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."

You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.

You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.

Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.

It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.

Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.

That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.

You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.

"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.

You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."

"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.

You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.

The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#requested #sam carpenter x reader #sam loomis #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpe #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #wlw #lesbian

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hyperfixat · 1 month

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hey!! I really love ur blog so so much rn! If you can, I'd like to request a neurodivergent MC? One that has certain foods they hate and have never told anyone since their family had forced them to try them since they were little? (Ex. Cauliflower, brussel sprouts, blueberries, bananas, carrots) and so, one day, when theyre all eating (at the HoL or just out) and they notice MC eating all but those foods on their plate? Sorry if this is a bit too specific, I just really can't write it properly for myself and i would like to have some form of comfort-

Anyway, have an amazing day!!

anon i am holding you so close rignt now this cured my writers block this is the first ask i’ve got in like two months TT

i am incapable of writing anything not hurt comfort so there is some ‘oh man im so sad :(‘ at the beginning but yk if u said u like my writing i imagine u kinda expected this

warning for mentions of throw up and actually eating the bad foods :(

and yes yes yes i love writing explicitly nd mcs!! i added in another obstacle to the req; freaky demon food bcs thats always fun to consider. That way u can kinda make the demon food similar to whatever food u want in ur mind, anyhow, the words u wanted;

You push the pile of purple (purple!?) mashed… something from one corner of your plate to the center. First you had to go to a strange demon school where all of your peers are so much scarier and larger than you and now you’ve been presented with whatever the hell this is for dinner.

You think Leviathan (Levi — it feels so odd referring to him so casually having just met him) was the one that made it. There was a protein on the plate, you ate that with no issues, but.

Urgh. This?

It’s your second night sleeping in the House of Lamentation and you don’t feel nearly comfortable or safe enough to get a snack on your own, especially at night. You’ve had such a long day at RAD and your body is dying for some food.

Disguising your disgusted reluctance with a carefully blank face, your grab some of the. The stuff.

Ah, nope. You set your fork down quietly after taking a slow bite / swallow and grab your cup to drown the leftover flavors and textures.

Luckily all the demon brothers seem pretty into their dinnertime banter and didn’t notice your… less than satisfactory reaction to the food.

Gosh, you don’t want to offend any of them, especially not so early on in the year you’ll have to room with them.

It’s a good thing that Beelzebub is practically a food vacuum and doesn’t question the nearly untouched pile of. Well you know. Left over on your plate.

…It’s official. You hate Devildom cuisine.

Is the universe playing one big, cruel joke on you? What the hell is wrong with demons? Why must the eat the worst things in the world? Why… why… why?

Lucifer wouldn’t let you starve under his roof, and provides you with full meals and makes it clear what parts of the kitchen are free to raid (as not to take anything designated to anyone else). You feel like the most ungrateful human in the whole wide world right now.

It’s been quite a few months since the start of the exchange program and you’ve been… getting by. Okay, that’s not exactly true, you’ve been having a blast in most aspects of your stay in the Devildom. Most.

There’s still the teeny tiny issue of the cuisine not quite fitting your tastes. You’ve tried talking to Solomon about the Devildom cuisine and he tried to cheer you up with some authentic human world cuisine, but as it turns out his cooking is far worse than Devildom-style food.

Not to be dramatic, but you’re suffering in silence. You get by, as in you’re not hungry – the demons you’ve grown oh so fond of wouldn’t let that happen. They always seem willing to fetch you anything.

You’re trying so hard not to hurt any feelings, because you love them and want to support them. It’s just. You want to throw up almost every meal. (Barbatos’ little treats have been your saving grace – he always seems to have some yummy little snack on him. One that you like and doesn’t make you feel like your throat is crawling out of your mouth.)

Most of the time the brothers don’t pay much thought to what you leave on your plate – as long as you eat some of what was served they seem content. Even on nights where the meal is more nasty than good, it’s easy to just say you’re not that hungry.

This night was bound to happen at some point. Your plate is uneatable. It’s edible, just uneatable. It’d be more humiliating to choke down a few bites than it is to go to bed hungry. You wrinkle your nose when you think no one is looking and stab at the meat chunk.

Your eyes are downcast and you drag your knife lazily through the food. It’s mesmerizing in a way, so much so that you don’t notice at first when Asmo calls your name.

“MC, is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?” At this point he’s drawn the attention of his brothers as well.

“Yeah, you’re barely eating,” Mammon supplies.

Ah, the moment you’ve been dreading and hoped you would never have to face.

“Oh, I don’t have much of an appetite right now.” Which certainly isn’t a lie.

“You didn’t eat much at lunch, hon.” Asmo reaches across the table to put the back of his manicured hand on your forehead to feel for a fever.

You cringe, “uhm, well. I’m.” You fail to think of a decent lie quick enough – nothing you say will be believable as you mentally blue screen.

“Honest answer?” Satan prods.

“I’m not the biggest fan of some Devildom foods.” “Not the biggest fan?” Beel questions, “you dislike them enough to forgo eating entirely.”

“I’m trying not to sound like an ungrateful jerk right now. Give me a moment to word this properly.”

Satan scoffs. “Just say it. Whatever you have to say can’t be worse than what we’ve put you through.”

“Damn, okay. The food makes me wanna throw up when I eat it.”

Levi, the chef of the night, folds in on himself, face darkening with shame or embarrassment.

“It’s not a personal gripe, most meals have something that makes me feel that way, hon.” It seems your attempt to comfort him isn’t appreciated though, as Levi shoves his face in his hands.

Lucifer sets his fork down. “And why haven’t you said anything to any of us about this? We want you to feel at home here.”

“You can’t expect me to be comfortable barging into what was at the time a strangers house and demand they make special accommodations for me, then once I was comfortable enough to say something I felt I put up with it long enough that it’d be odd to bring it up out of nowhere.”

“Fair enough,” Satan nods along.

“No? Not ‘fair enough’!” Mammon scolds. “You shoulda said something to me! Do you even like half the snacks I give you? I spent good Grimm on those!”

Memories of bribing Beelzebub to do certain errands in the earlier days of your Devildom stay flicker through your mind. “They got eaten.”

“MC,” Lucifer brings the conversation back on track. “Let us know foods you don’t want to eat, we may be demons, but we’re here to provide you with a comfortable stay.” You nod under his sincere gaze. “Now, give your plate to Beel and order some delivery. I’ll cover the costs, as long as you eat.”

As you shove your plate across the table you see Lucifer pulling a shiny black card from his coat pocket. He gestures for you to come and take it. You walk to the head of the table and he presses the card into your hand.

“Order whatever you’d like. My treat.” There’s a glint of humor in his eyes and you look down to see Goldie in your palm.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #om hcs #obey me hcs #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me x you #obey me demon brothers #hyperfixat answers

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marsfa1ry · 1 year

Text

astrology observation 𓇼

(pics from pinterest)

capricorn mercury i love their dry sense of humor and dark sarcasm. my scorpio mercury be giggling like a baby when they tell a joke while everyone else blank stare the native, concerned about their dark humor. also their choice of words is so calculated and careful if developed, no sugarcoating tho, with well aspected could also be poetic. it’s so cute. ahhh my favs

lilith 3h knows how and when to push the button and let that intelligent communicator self take over lol literally can talk themselves out of anything and could wrap someone around their fingers by their words. school and/or siblings might be a hit or miss for them. it’s either good or bad, nothing in between.

mars 1h idk if it’s just me or not moving body when mentally in a better place for a whole day can cause natives a great emotion turmoil like (esp in virgo degree i guess💀) that’s why coping mechanism and serotonin booster includes deep cleaning room, groceries … oh maybe it’s just me ok

not to mention that healthy routine HELPS natives a lot i mean i guess it helps every human being but i feel like it emphasizes when it comes to mars 1h let me know if you resonates or not^^

earth moons with uranus prominent aspects/placements yes earth moons do need a stable routine to help them maintain their mind but with uranus influence esp if making aspects to mc, i think will most likely hate to have a 9-5 work, plus with prominence 9h/sagittarius, spontaneous career life is their go-to. their earth moons still want the stability tho so it could be that they have a stable morning and after work routine etc.

leo moon something about their hair that never fail to catch my attention. it’s like tho they did nothing their hair be thriving.

also something about head bumps because there was this one time i dreamed of a leo moon head bumping me just for me to wake up to an astrology observation (i can’t remember which one😿feel free to inform me so i can put credits here) says head bumping is a lion thing so leo placements tend to do that helpp- but tbh it’s so cute ><

earth moons w fire moons i rarely see astro community talk about this two together like it’s SO underrated. earth moon say the most straightforward, simplest compliments that get fire moon all flustered up and stuff like 😳 and firey do this most random, unprovoked things just to get reaction out of earthy. purely just vibing together. fire moon get earth moon out of their comfort zone, earth moon makes fire moon more grounded. seen them in many long terms relationships.

ex: EDIT : i just found out that brian groomed megan fox and actually so problematic so i deleted this example 🤢

ross lynch (aries moon) - jaz sinclair (capricorn moon)

aishwarya rai (capricorn moon) - abhishek bachchan (aries moon)

ryan gosling (capricorn moon) - eva mendes (leo moon)

moon conjucnt mercury synastry : moon be like ‘bruh you speak my mind’ while mercury ‘you read my emotions and know what to do with them without me talking it out so’ love this

moon conjunct chiron chiron making hard aspect to luminaries (emphasize on moon bcs istg…the pain towards deepest part of ourselves um) can manifest such a big impact in native’s life :,) and which part will be effected depends on houses where it sit in. however, as much as how diverse the conjunction can play out🤭 the same thing that wounded the natives could be the same thing that heal the natives. the key is to mastered the cruel (💀for real like who have this aspect would understand what i mean) chiron. as much as it makes you a severely wounded soldier in inner world’s field ffs, breaking the pattern of chiron can manifests a really great result.

moon prominent aspect in mother’s chart can be presented in your s/o’s chart or someone you like. for better or worse. 🧍‍♀️

mercury in sagittarius degree (9°,21°) philosiphize their words unintentionally and left people who had a conversation with them thinking about their words a lots esp when they give advice, they brought a whole new perspective to the person.

scorpio/8h prominent the struggle is real when someone they close with or trust don’t also hate their enemies. it’s a sign to retreat for them😠 ride or die. all or nothing.

lilith prominent/dominant men try so hard to hide their feelings and reactions when lilith prominent/dominant women come around. might even bully/pick on them at an extreme end. horrible at it finest when undeveloped ugh

taurus lilith square ascendant attract a lot of taurus mars and i have love-hate relationship with most of them

pisces rising really do get away with things. wittiness and chameleon energy of mutable + slyness of water = slay 💅

aries in big 6 literally always there in charts of ppl who heavily watch or fond of anime, manga

capricorn/cancer sun pair with scorpio/taurus sun no matter what others perceived them individually, they seems like a traditional couple to me lol when they’re together it gives ‘of course they’re together’ vibe. capricorn-scorpio and cancer-taurus more often than vice versa

pluto 3h i found myself thinking about what these natives say a looooot like even if it’s the most silliest stuff they said, it still echoes in my mind like ‘i think yellow is a really bizarre color’ and my mind goes 😮🤯😦😵‍💫🙀 wtff

; hihi, first i didn’t expect my previous astro notes to blow up this much so i want to say that i appreciated all the interactions and support <33 thank you so much and i hope whoever come across this astro ranting HEHE a really nice day/night and much fun reading this ⭐️

#1010 #astro observations #astrology #astro placements #astro notes #astro posts #earth moon #fire moon #capricorn mercury #mars 1st house #lilith 3rd house #pluto 3h #synastry #pisces rising #scorpio #8h placements

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ccuniculusmolestus · 5 months

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Bunny Corcoran: Mother, Women and Sexuality (Masterpost)

Apologies for the shitty quality screenshot, idk why their quality got butchered.

Anyway I divided this thing into IV parts.

Intro

Camilla

Marion

Henry

INTRO & DISC.

Not to be a bunny apologist literally, he's sexist piece of shit, but you know whats funny? The way this fandom absolutely REFUSES to acknowledge the fact that, despite Richard's shady ass describing Bunny as "homophobic but not in a repressed way", Bunny could very well be gay or bi at the very least. The fandom just doesn't want to see it because he doesn't form "convenient" enough ships with major characters (he does. You guys are just cowards.)

Yes I know, sexist hetero men despise women just for being women, but they view women purely through a sexual lens. But Bunny's prude ass was NOT a pervert. I mean, this is the guy that got triggered when Richard asked him about his hickey.

Yes yes sexually repressed people can act prude-ish in front of people but be total pervs when alone, but nothing at all hinted at Bunny being a pervert who viewed women as walking meat bags. I just find it weird that the only two female companions he had (Marion and Camilla, aside from Judy bcs we never see them interact) he just...didn't like them. Camilla he was good to, occasionally, in a very platonic way ("paternalistic stance").

CAMILLA

And you know what drives me crazy? In this group of 5 boys and 1 girl, Bunny was the ONLY one who was never inappropriate (sexually) or sexual with Camilla. Even the openly gay guy in the group had kissed her at least once. Even her own brother-- not finishing that. Henry slept with her too. Richard kissed her, and wanted to sleep with her. Not Bunny. Yes, Bun was cruel to her in other ways, ordering her around, saying she was intellectually inferior, but he showed ZERO romantic interest in her. Which is kind of ironic to me. The only homophobe in that group was the only one not acting straight.

MARION

With Marion, my god, the way this boy behaved.

He called her his "reason of being", the purpose of his existence, but he could barely tolerate her. She was only a clip holding him together from those parts where he was falling apart; wounds left from a neglectful mother. Lets not mention how Marion is sort of an underdeveloped image of his mother; delicate, blonde, somewhat haughty.

That bitterness he probably feels towards Kathy was then pointed to Marion. Its so freaking clear that Marion is filling the "Mother" role in Bunny's life. She's "feminine" (a trait often associated with motherhood and vice versa), she's "bossy and businesslike". I don't need to explain this, I'm sure.

But watch Bunny's reactions to her; hes submissive for the most part.

For a man who's so incredibly sexist, it doesn't make sense for him to choose such a woman as his partner, does it? Now, either Richard entirely fabricated or exaggerated Bunny's sexism in order to justify his murder, or

His "dislike" for women didn't stem from the weird sexual obsessions misogynists tend to have, but from something else. It could be, purely, his mommy issues, or something else.

You know that whole, Bunny calling Marion that title, but treating her like a chore just reflects what a big performance his relationship truly was. He didn't love Marion, perhaps he liked her, appreciated or cared for her, but he didn't love her. Marion was, like every other thing in his life, just an element to uphold an image of himself. Potential beard? Maybe.

HENRY

Bunny's true "raison d'etre" might have not existed. The only person he could be said to gave been obsessed with was, truly, Henry. And im not just saying this for the sake of it. Bunny was invested in and attached to Henry, perhaps a result of his financial dependence on him.

I don't know guys, I just don't think its normal to snoop around your best friend's things often, or make multiple attempts to read their journal--

this boy was DESPERATE to know the inner workings of Henry's mind. Mind you, this is BEFORE Bunny found out about the murder, or had reason to suspect Henry for anything. Henry's said he was always nosing around for it, and he mentioned Bunny was an "obtrusive" roommate -- meaning this was normal occurrence for him around Henry. Yes, he was also kind of like this with others (Stealing stranger's foods, stealing Charles' cooking literally as he works in the kitchen) but neither of these required a sense of interest in the person he was stealing from. It was to serve his own needs.

Bunny also shows a reluctance to lose Henry.

After their fight, he's so overwhelmed that he doesn't know how to react (mentioned by Henry himself), and his first instinct is to try and cling onto whatever shred of normalcy there was left between them. Despite knowing the numerous cruel things Henry had written about him, Bunny just took it. He stayed somewhat amiable to Henry later. Yes, yes. He got annoying about "the blackmail" (or his inability to keep his mouth shut) but Henry and Francis BOTH tell Richard that Bunny doesn't see what he's doing as "blackmail".

In fact, i think Bunny the fool was trying to get "in" on the feeling of being in on a secret. Image below is regarding that German that started following them in Rome.

But his immediate reaction of pretending everything's fine isn't the first or last time he tries to keep things cool with Henry.

Henry, despite having to deal with Bunny's worst tantrums, was still treated with a degree of respect that seemed to be reserved only for him. Was he afraid of Henry? Hell no.

Bunny was never afraid of insulting Henry, or fighting with him. But he rarely ever got personal with him. Yes yes he complained about the money and every little thing, but the way he went after the rest of the class? Targeting their weaknesses? He would've known Henry's weakness, he was perceptive enough. But he didn't. He still treated Henry with respect. Deference. Described as "polite submission and respect".

With Henry, Bunny was totally emotionally vulnerable. Henry reactedd explosively twice during their arguments. The first is when he slapped Bunny so hard that he "left a big white mark on his cheek", and the second where he broke that chair when Bunny was fighting him in his room. Despite losing control, Henry maintained a level of composure. Bunny never did. He became hysterical each time, screaming and becoming violent the first time, but sobbing himself to sleep (IN HENRYS BED) the second time.

He slept in his bed. There was literally no reason for him to do that.

Except maybe he craved closure. Maybe he just missed his best friend. Maybe he was too shaken up to move from his spot.

And I don't want none of you fools being all "Henry didn't gaf about Bunny."

This is Henry's reaction to Richard essentially saying "You thought Bunny wouldn't be a problem??" And then reiterating that they're old friends.

Do you even understand the implications of that last line? Bunny, whose entire being was hidden under a carefully crafted persona, admitted his family's SHORTCOMINGS with HENRY. Bunny, whose image was everything for him. Perhaps his image WAS his raison d'etre. Bunny, who lived life as an illusion of his true self, projecting away his insecurities. Bunny, who would never admit that he was poor, that his family was flawed in any way, told Henry this. How many more things do you think he confessed, or what other parts of his past and home did he reveal?

Yes, he could have just been telling Henry those things to mooch him off, but he also mooched off his other friends.they didn't know a thing. Marion, who I believe his family hadn't met yet (?) Probably didn't even know. Amd if youre from a dysfunctional home, you already know the only people you've told about your home are special, hand-picked.

Henry was also the first and only person Bunny told about Camilla/Charles.

Perhaps it hurt him, being left out of such a major events of Henry's life because Bunny was sharing practically everything with him.

Alls I'm saying is, Henry meant more to Bunny than most people realize (and dare I say, vice versa), and the only reason people don't see it is because RICHARD didn't see it (fool saw the potential of the dynamic but then was like "nah bunny's too ugly for that").

Bunny was most definitely either a repressed bisexual/gay man, and you cannot change my mind. And while his hatred of women is vile and inexcusable, it stemmed from a place of deep personal issues and insecurities.

Anyway. I'm done rambling LOL.

#MAN I KIND OF HYPERFIXATED ONNTHIS POST MY BAD #i hope i converted some poor soul out there to winterbunny #RICHARD SLANDER FOREVER #tsh #henry winter #tsh donna tartt #winterbunny #the secret history #winterhare #camilla macaulay #richard papen #bunny corcoran #marion barnbridge #katherine corcoran

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for rejecting someone bc they’re 'too skinny'?

I know this sounds genuinely horrible but let me explain. TW for eating disorder talk!!

I (20m) met this really cute guy (19m) through a mutual friend a while ago and we immediately hit it off. I really like him but the thing is, I’ve been struggling with an eating disorder for over 7 years now. He’s super skinny and that’s totally okay but sadly it’s been triggering my ed a lotttt.

He literally said he loves how soft my hips are which made me feel physically sick. I haven’t had a reaction like that in a long time and it’s making me feel like shit. I’ve put a lot of work into addressing this eating disorder and trying to heal from it. Keep in mind that I’m a pretty thin guy, I’m 5'2 and on my recent doctor‘s visit I was around 116lbs, there really isn’t that much softness to me. No idea why he said that.

So, after some consideration and for the sake of my mental health, I decided to cut things off with him. We’ve only been on a few dates and I really didn‘t think it was that serious. He obviously asked me why and I decided to be honest, which didn’t go over well.

He called me a selfish asshole, accused me of bodyshaming him and then went and told my friends that I’m a 'vain bitch'.

I really don‘t think I’m in the wrong here. I have a lot of issues to work on, yea, but I try to handle them as well as I can without dragging anyone else into my mess. Still, a good number of my friends told me that I’m cruel and vain for what I did. None of them responded after I explained myself, so, I don’t know.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eating disorder cw

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

there's something about atsumu being all pouty and sulky that makes him more adorable. (please i love him so much) i just watched a TikTok video of a married couple and this ask is based on this. so what if after an argument, you being atsumu's wife doesn't cook enough food for three (three bcs u have a daughter who has her uncle samu's appetite. and yes, bcs im a sucker for dad atsumu au) and just told him to cook for himself or order takeout or something bcs u didn't think that he'll eat at home. please 🥺 i just wanna see his reaction 👀

*the argument is about him not wanting to go home (poor boy says he needs to practice more) after you text and call him a hundred times bcs it's past practice time. so the next evening, you didn't cook food that'll be enough for the three of you.

NO WAIT PAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH THIS-

also im so glad you’re a sucker for the dad/uncle au bc same HA-

I know damn well in that pretty head of Atsumu’s that he does, try his hardest to be home for dinner. Always one to be accounted for, always there beside you, mowing down on the food you’d either spent the entire day cooking, or grabbing after your errands.

But for the past few nights, he just. Hasn’t.

He’s been with the boys, or staying overtime at practice, or hanging out with Osamu because he could always use a set of hands, and for some reason, rather than just telling you this, he doesn’t. He leaves you to figure it out for yourself.

It leads to a pretty nasty spat, thankfully one Hisako was asleep for, about you just wanting a text so you know that you don’t have to look forward to enjoying dinner with him (okay. A little cruel, but he had it coming!) or setting an extra plate. It made him snarl out how ‘he’s a grown man’ and ‘he can make his own dinner plans’ and ‘take care of his damn self without you,’ and you felt your heart sink to the base of your chest.

He sighs softly, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Then take care of yourself,” you snap, turning on your heel to get ready for bed. Even though there’s some half choked apologies that fall from both of your lips, you make the conscious decision to stop trying so hard.

If he wasn’t going to appreciate the work you go out of your way to do for him to enjoy a hot meal, then why put it forward? No need to shell out the extra effort when he’s not going to do his own part.

Especially tonight, as your table sets and vegetables stop cooking, your damn husband still isn’t home.

Whatever. Asshole.

Surely, it’s fine. It seems fine. Hisako inhales the food with extreme excitement, you pick at your own while she recounts the events of her day. Gotta hand it to her, she’s a damn entertaining kid, able to distracted you from the hurt of Atsumu potentially taking your words to heart and indeed, taking care of himself.

She prompts the end of her dinner with an enthusiastic kiss to your cheek- a trait she learned from her father- before toddling into the living room to play with her toys. You smile softly at the sight, bittersweet as you move to start the dishes, trying to get through them as a quick as possible before Atsumu comes home and sees the dinner not made for him.

This is another instance, however, that you’re having the piss taken out of you, and Atsumu comes home in the middle of your chores. You cringe softly as the front door opens, he sighs dramatically, and you head the happiness in his voice when he chirps a quick “where’re my girls!”

You whimper in the back of your throat and plaster a smile, still trying to hide the hurt in your features.

“Hey my love,” Atsumu says, voice strained from sighing happily, before laxing out to kiss you. “Where’s the boss of us?”

You smile and pucker your lips for a brief, almost uninterested kiss, and you watch as his body language tenses. “She’s in the living room playing with her toys. I was going to give her a bath once I finished the dishes.”

“I can do that, dollface,” he chuckles. “If you want to relax, or get started on her bath you can.” He happily hooks his head over your shoulder and nuzzles into you softly. “I gotta eat first anyways, so I can take care of the dishes.”

You tense up as he lifts his head with a happy inhale, “smells great in here. What did you make?”

In confusion, you give him a look over your shoulder. “I… made curry in the pressure cooker, and some rice and fried some eggs for us.” He groans happily and quickly dashes to the fridge to open and search for the extras, only for his face to fall once he turns up empty handed.

“Did… you both polish it off?”

“I only made enough for two, and with your daughter having an appetite like her uncle I almost didn’t have enough-“

“But…”

“What?”

“You… you didn’t cook enough for me?”

You scoff and continue to scrub the plates, “since you clearly had no intentions of updating me on what you’d be doing tonight, I figured I had no use in cooking more than Hisako and I could eat. Leftovers go to waste in this house anyways.”

He pauses, and you hear his socked feet padding around the tiled floors, trying to piece together his thoughts and approach this. You continue to wash the dishes, but the signals in your brain cross as two long arms wrap around your waist, a head burrowing into the curve of your neck.

“‘Tsumu-“

“I meant to text you,” he murmurs, curling up as close to you as he can. “I swear. Tonight, I wanted to come home and eat dinner with you, and watch a movie with ‘Sako, but I guess I just forgot to when Bokuto wanted to practice a little bit more…” one of the arms wrapped around your waist moves up to gently cup your jawline, angling your head to look at the golden eyes curved in distress. “But as soon as I realized I came right home, I didn’t even think of it. Please, don’t be mad at me… it was an accident this time, I swear.”

You sigh and lean over to nudge your nose with his, “I’m not mad at you, baby. You just… you hurt my feelings last night; you can’t tell me you don’t appreciate the work I do, then come home and pout about the work I didn’t do. That’s rude, it’s shitty of you.”

“I know,” he says softly, lowering his eyes. In thought for a moment, he then rises his gaze back up to you with a hopeful smile, “can I have a kiss at least?”

You snicker and roll your eyes, “you may have one kiss, and if you play your cards right, I’ll doctor up some instant noodles for you.”

He beams happily up at you and leans up to steal a kiss, the hand on your cheek stroking the warm skin lovingly, “I like the sound of that.”

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kumememe · 2 months

Text

library talk at dusk (farleigh start x m! reader)

warnings: slightly edited but otherwise written in one go, spelling errors and grammar is sad, slightly ooc farleigh start, reader is male bc there is a lack of male reader love for this fandom note: hi, first work since forever... please be kind <3

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farleigh start was a simple man. when it comes to people he hates, he is often cruel, rude, and judgmental at every chance he interacts with them. he judges their poorly-coordinated clothes, their personalities that make them stick out like a bug, and he laughs at their misfortunes when he sees it happen upfront. as a cousin of the infamous felix catton, the self-proclaimed 'prince of oxford', he had a reputation to uphold. it wasn't like it was different from how he usually acted, no- it was more heightened to give its desired effect. people who were in the same major as him were often intimidated by him, and farleigh knew he had to be selective about who he wants as his friends. he couldn't let someone inferior to be part of his pack because why would he? only the worthiest would have the chance. and yet, everything changed when he met y/n l/n. that stupid brat. well, technically he wasn't a brat, but everything y/n did annoy the shit out farleigh. the way y/n was so kind, nice, and approachable, the way he carried himself so elegantly and effortlessly to the point where he got undivided attention by his peers and professors, the way he laughed and smiled at every single stupid joke his obnoxious classmates would toss at him- it was annoying. farleigh knew that the moment he saw y/n at the field, lying down on the grass as he laughed and sang along to the music his small circle of friends would play, the way his h/c hair would softly dance around in the breeze, with his irritatingly charming smile- he knew he had to hate him. and yet... at the same time, he couldn't.

there was something different about him. farleigh knows differently when he sees it, and y/n isn't like people who wanted to be friends with him, desperately clawing at him to be let into his exclusive friend group to achieve status. no, y/n was unique. he didn't care much about status as he stayed true to himself, or at least what he wanted his own persona to be seen as through an outsider's lens. y/n was a bright young man, majoring in the same course farleigh was in, which he excelled at with him. y/n was the type to offer help to those who needed it, even as mundane as carrying books to the library. he was perfect in many ways farleigh couldn't understand, much to farleigh's dismay. he wanted to get to know him, but his reputation had to be held up. why? he felt it was an obligation, a rule to do so. with that, whenever y/n would approach him, he would give him some snarky remark.

"hey farleigh," y/n greets the tall male with a kind and unwavering smile. farleigh scoffs, crossing his arms, "hello, y/n. still sucking up to the professors, are you?" he would say sarcastically, trying to invoke some sort of negative reaction from the male but... it never works. y/n would do what he always does- chuckle, shrug, and reply with some light joke. "i mean if it works, it works." y/n replied as he walked away, going to his group of friends who were waiting for him at the end of the hall. farleigh turns his head to see y/n being greeted by his peers, rolling his eyes at the way y/n brushed off his rude remarks. farleigh was a little annoyed. how can someone be so nonchalant, carefree, and just confident when it comes to this? was farleigh jealous? yes, but he would never admit it. if he was held at gunpoint, he wouldn't even budge. to say he was jealous of how y/n's natural uncaring yet kind behavior was an understatement.

but here farleigh was, in the crux of dusk, sitting in the library as with the very male he had a confusing opinion on. y/n and farleigh were paired on some project their professor had assigned. books, notebooks, pieces of yellow pad were scattered on the table, along with pens and laptops opened on the side. y/n tapped away on his laptop as he chewed on his lip, trying to think of how to write a certain paragraph more cohesively. farleigh was doing the same, but he was more interested to see what y/n was doing. he leans over slightly, taking a peak at y/n's work. "hm," he hums. y/n looks over his shoulder to give farleigh a curious look, before turning back to his paper. "do you think this argument is valid, farleigh?" y/n asks, highlighting the paragraph he just wrote down.

"i think it would be better if you gave one more supporting evidence." farleigh says, pointing at the end of the paragraph. "you need three solid evidences, and you have two so far. otherwise, i think it's good." farleigh says in an aloof tone, before going back to his own work. y/n sighs and stretches a bit, feeling his body become sore from how he had been slumped over for the past few hours. "i think it's time we take a break." he says quietly, saving his work on the file as he closes his laptop. he turns to farleigh, who was deeply focused on his work as he types quietly. the tall male's brows furrowed as he stared at the screen. y/n leans his head on his arm, which was propped up on the table. he opens his mouth to ask something, but hesitates slightly. with a shaky voice, he says, "you should take a break too." he says quietly, catching farleigh's attention as the brown-skinned male stops typing.

"y/n, this is due at midnight. we have no time to take a break." farleigh says sternly, running a hand through his hair as y/n shakes his head. "we've been working on this for... 4 hours straight. we're lucky that the librarian let us eat here while we worked." y/n expresses with a slight tired tone, "just five minutes, i swear." y/n promises.

farleigh reluctantly nods, sighing as he saves his work and turns his laptop off. "five minutes." he repeats, slumping into his chair as he closes his eyes for a bit. an awkward silence consumes the air between the two, before y/n spoke. "so..." he trails off, not knowing what to say as farleigh turns his head towards the latter, eyebrow raised expectantly. y/n clears his throat, "you know, i've always felt this vibe coming from you... the vibe that says that you don't like me." y/n says quietly, which surprises farleigh slightly. this was unexpected, he didn't think y/n would bring his passive-aggressiveness up as the conversation opener. it was understandable however, since the tension between them may grow if left unopened like a can of sardines. farleigh shifts in his chair slightly, "didn't think you'd finally notice." farleigh says in an unintentionally snarky tone. y/n frowns slightly, "it's kind of hard to ignore, to be honest... our banter always seems so playful from the outside but sometimes i just wonder if you do hate me." y/n looks down at his lap, before looking at the table in front of him.

this makes farleigh's heartstrings feel like they are being tugged at, as he didn't know that he had given a negative impression to the latter. farleigh stays silent for a bit, not knowing how to respond. he didn't know if his teasing was more or less just that. sure, he hated the way y/n was pure, and had no ill intentions in any of his actions with everyone he talks with- he was admirable, at best. maybe farleigh projected his insecurities too much on y/n, and he knew he was at fault. and yet... he swallowed the lump in his throat, having trouble forming the right words. once farleigh did, he made sure to explain his side carefully.

"i don't hate you." farleigh admits quietly as he crosses his arms, looking at y/n with a sincere gaze. this makes y/n's eyes widen slightly at the sincerity, eyes locking with farleigh. the tall brown male continues, "i guess my banter has left more than desired..." he says, looking away. farleigh takes a deep breath, "i let my insecurities get the best of me, and i let them out on you. I'm sorry."

y/n's gaze softened at the admission, the first time he didn't see the usual snark and judgemental attitude that the tall male would hide behind. y/n licks his dry lips, giving farleigh a warm smile. "d-don't worry, i don't hold it against you." he says softly, making farleigh roll his eyes. "see? this is what i mean, y/n."

"you're always so nice to everyone, so pure- you never seem to make any enemies. you're so free to do what you want and yet i'm here just..." farleigh huffs frustratedly. the confession hangs heavy in the air, with y/n sitting up properly. he adjusts his seat so he can place a careful hand on farleigh's shoulder. giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "farleigh," y/n starts gently, his voice filled with understanding. "thank you for your honesty, i appreciate it."

"but that doesn't mean you should compare yourself to me, or anyone else for that matter." y/n comforts, "we all have our ways of living life, our ow struggles... believe me. before i got to where i am now, i've been through my fair share of challenges."

farleigh looks at y/n, seeing the empathy in his eyes. he swallows the lump of saliva in his throat, as he listens to the h/c-haired male. "in my eyes, you have so much more to you than what meets the eye. you have so much potential for good, and you deserve to do what you want without being held back, okay?" he says tenderly. if y/n wasn't so damn kind, farleigh would have shrugged this off. but something in his gut knew that the former was right. "i apolgize if i'm being too serious, it's just... maybe it's time to let yourself relax and open up. well- technically you already did the last part but... you're capable of many great things."

farleigh chuckles at y/n's rambled advice, his tense shoulders relaxing. he has to admit it, he's starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, he liked y/n more than he hated him. "...thank you, l/n." he says with a heartfelt tone in his voice, such softness that makes y/n smile. y/n nods, "no worries, start." y/n releases the grip he had on farleigh's shoulder, much to farleigh's dismay. he lays both of his arms on the table, using them as a cushion for his head. "farleigh, you know since we are being candid here, i've always found you admirable."

farleigh's eyes flickered open just a touch wider, "really?"

y/n nods, "yeah. you're honest, not afraid of saying your own opinions... you have a confident aura that people like me wish for. confident, as in, you can just talk to anyone you would like with no struggle. not only that, but you are also arrogant. arrogant in a way that it is actually deserving since you are top of your class, smart, and..." y/n lists down, each sentence leaving him turning quieter as farleigh's grin widens every time. farleigh lets out a snicker, and y/n smiles. "what?" the latter asked, as farleigh shook his head. "it's cute that you admire me." he says with a hint of sarcasm, which makes y/n roll his eyes.

"oh, bug off, don't make me take it back." y/n threatens lightly.

farleigh takes a deep yet content sigh, already feeling the atmosphere lighten up as the two chuckled. with this cheesy opening up between the two, he knew that this shift will change their dynamic. and for once in his life, he can see y/n being a positive force in it. as he takes a look at the time on the wall clock, he turns to y/n with a small smile.

"whatever. come on, we have work to do."

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thanks for reading my bad work, lol, it has been a few years since i have written for any fandom, and i really appreciate anyone who reads this. if you have any suggestions, feel free to send them in. thank you :>>

#saltburn #saltburn x male reader #felix catton #oliver quick #farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x male reader #saltburn 2023 #saltburn x reader #male reader #kumememe #fluff #saltburn fluff #angst with a happy ending #venetia catton #elspeth catton

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lightlycareless · 2 months

Note

Hey again!! What do you think is Naoya height?? Because i can't seem to find his official height. So i headcanon that his height is 187cm. That's pretty tall right? But idc bc i love tall men in general 🤭

And i want to know your hc because you're one of my fav naoya writer!

Hello!!!

Omg I feel like I took forever to respond, idk why I get that feel from time to time, then I look on the dates and maybe it hadn't been so long?!??! Idk

Either way, thank you for your patience 🥺❤️ This is actually something I've wondered about in the past... as well as this little drabble I wrote :> I hope you like it!

I haven’t set an official height to Naoya, but I always assumed he was pretty tall too; he’s described as so in the wikia and looks like it too hehe.

So yep, around the 180s+ is just about right! Maybe not 190’s ‘cause he’d be getting to the same level of Gojo, but up there. (If it’s worth anything, I always thought he’d be amongst the tallest of his siblings, but shorter than Naoaki lmao)

Now, onto the good stuff.

warnings: none. fluff. naoya being a tease. (who would've known?)

It’s safe to assume that due to his height, either Naoya has to lean down to kiss you, or you have to step on the tip of your toes to do so. An arrangement that smoothly fell into place, not that much of a hassle to comply with, and honestly? I think both like doing it very much.

Until he realizes this is something he could also take advantage of; and boy, does he abuse this opening when the opportunity flashes across his mind.

He just… can’t help it! With the way you adorably purse your lips to kiss him, gently grasping his arms to pull him down just to make your job easier, he needed to, you know?

It’s in his nature.

And so, he leans into that, opting to not close the gap between his lips and yours, leaving you there, anxiously waiting for the moment your skin touches his, while doing his best to hold back from gawking at your cuteness.

It’s only when seconds pass and you have yet to be kissed, that you naturally grow worried, assuming something was wrong and opening your eyes to find out what it was… upset when realizing it was intentional. And obviously, since this isn’t as funny to you as it is to him, you eventually become frustrated.

“Hey, don’t be angry!” Naoya laughs, following you across the state as you storm away, flustered and ashamed that he’d make fun of you with something like that! “Come on, Y/N, I was only playing!”

Naoya eventually (like always) catches up to you, pulling by the arm and encasing you in his embrace, a wide smirk on his lips as he finally attempts to kiss you properly; but you simply deny him by looking away, forcing him to kiss your cheeks instead, the top of your head, or just about anything else but your lips, much to his dismay.

“You’re not actually angry… are you?” Naoya murmurs, feeling that maybe he had miscalculated how annoying he’d been.

“…no.” But you eventually disclose otherwise, because as frustrating as he was, he was still the husband you loved very, very much, with all of his playful, teasing, and sometimes cruel actions. You truly wouldn’t want him any other way.

Truth to be told, your embarrassment came more from the fact that you managed to catch a nearby servant, just by the corner of your eye, laughing at the two, making you feel as if he’d caught the two in a highly inappropriate disposition.

And never one to willingly share your intimate moments with anyone else outside of Naoya, their reaction quickly filled you with shame, jolting you out of the scene.

But even then… Naoya’s careless demeanor, whether because he hadn’t noticed them, or perhaps didn’t bother to care, reminds you it wasn’t as serious as you were making it to be.

Besides, the two were married, surely, they got an idea of what transpired between the two behind closed doors.

Naoya was very… passionate about it, after all.

“I don’t like it when you do that.” You still admit, for it didn’t mean you strived to be deprived of his kisses.

“I was just joking, princess.” Naoya coos. “I’d rather die than not feel your lips anymore.”

You blush.

… yeah, he was very passionate when it came to it.

“Does that mean I can kiss you again, my love?”

“No. Not until you make it up to me.” You smirk, Naoya’s eyes glisten.

“Hmm, is that so? And what do you have in mind?”

A lot of things, in fact, amongst them a direct continuation of that kiss he cruelly isolated you from…

But only until you get away from the prying eye of the surrounding servants, already hearing them snicker about how funny you looked trying to reach for Naoya, all pouty because he wouldn’t kiss you, more so when comparing how small you looked next to him…

Once that’s set, then you can make Naoya work for it.

I'm short myself, 5' to be precise (154) so everyone is naturally taller than me lmao but damn.... tall men... my weakness.......................... and Naoya? oof.... dreamy 😏❤️

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'll do my best to get to the other adorable one you sent me 🥺❤️ I love them all so so much agjkhasjkgasjkga I'm so honored you like my work 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ thank you!!! keep them coming 🤭🤭

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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normoully · 9 months

Note

no plz tell me all your thoughts about the gregory hate so I can reblog it💀

OHHH boy this is gonna be a long one buckle up

Ever since Gregory was first announced I believe most of the fandom have interpreted him as this frail child who was always on the verge of tears and needed G.Freddy’s protection (think C.C 2.0), but once the game came out most ppl were shocked to see this kid actually has a lot of bite to him and kicked ass (ppl’s first reactions to him destroying the animatronics still make me laugh).

This was MY first introduction to him, so I wasn’t completely taken aback but still pleasantly surprised. Most if not all his actions made sense or at least made sense for a 10yr boy to think/act. Giant robots coming after me with the intention to kill (and insulting me for no damn reason)? Yeah I’d probably add an extra kick in there for good measure. Then came the first repair scene, when Vanessa revealed the high possibility of Gregory being an homeless orphan everything just clicked into place for me.

OF COURSE that’s why Gregory was so aggressive, he had to learn how to fight on his own to survive he’d probably had to face even worse than this! He wasn’t going to let that all go to waste bc some weird murderous rabbit lady wanted to drag him into her plans. It explains why he brushed off G.Freddy’s worries about him bc he’s used to have to just keep moving and bare thru pain, especially in an environment where that’s really the ONLY thing you can do. It’s why he’s so blunt and can come off as rude bc he was most likely never taught how to behave “correctly” bc really who has the time?

He was just using all the knowledge he learned on how to survive from a cruel and harsh environment for another. But this time he has an ally for once, an adult (father) figure who actually cares about his wellbeing, it’s no wonder why he became so attached (but struggles to show it bc he’s not used to it). And through all that easily irritable aggression, there are moments to remind us he’s still a kid.

A useless fridge magnet? Yeah that is pretty lame man.

Now imagine my shock when I see others hating on him and calling him a villain. “How could he KILL the poor animatronics? He was so mean, he’s the true monster!” Wh- DID WE WATCH THE SAME GAME? You mean the same animatronics that says he doesn’t have anyone to care about him? Yeah real sweethearts they are. Gregory isn’t a damn monster, he’s a survivor! He’s doing what he only knows best, IT’S TO SURVIVE!

“How could he be so mean to G.Freddy??? Those are his friends! He made Freddy feel bad!” Trust me when I say that Gregory cares about G.Freddy ALOT, did you see his reactions whenever G.Freddy got hurt??? That’s his father thank you very much!

“How could he have killed Vanny in that one ending?! He’s the real villain!” …Do I even need to explain this one?

And ohhhhhh don’t get me started on the awful “bratty gremlin devil” Gregory HCs. Now this isn’t to say that Gregory can’t be a gremlin or whatever. He can be, he is a bit cheeky, but then some started to intensify it and made it his entire personality. No, Gregory wasn’t just itching to rip Roxy’s eyes out or do the next batshit insane thing, he noticed the other upgrades and put two and two together (It gets more weird and slightly disrespectful when they add in the homeless thing as if that automatically makes someone act “feral”….tiktok.)

And then we have the complete opposite where some portray him as what I mentioned in the first paragraph. The poor helpless child who cant handle anything by himself…even though that’s complete bullshit (he’s also usually portrayed to be obnoxiously sweet for some reason). I don’t think many ppl realize how often were not in G.Freddy during SB, and Gregory is described to be quick on his feet and wits (plus his tools) and he doing damn well by himself! [Obviously this isnt to say that he didnt need G.Freddy’s help and protection, ofc he did, he just didnt need to RELY on it like some ppl make it seem he did].

(I know we went a bit off-topic for the last two paragraphs, trust me it connects)

All of this comes down to simply that some just can’t accept the fact that Gregory isn’t their perfect victim. He doesn’t crumble to the floor and beg for G.Freddy to help him up like they want him too. He’s not shy and sheepishly asking for help like they think he’s supposed to. And when they realize that part they try to push him into the other far end where he’s crazy, cold, and cruel. But he’s not. He cares, and he cares deeply. He’s still a little boy, he cried and tried to cover his face when he saw Vanny die. He should be leaping in victory, he killed his killer after all right? But he didn’t, bc despite everything she was still a human being, and he was so scared.

He has complex trauma (duh), he’s not this way or that way, and I get it. It’s hard to write or draw that kind of trauma for Gregory, especially when SB didn’t really give us much. But the way ppl act as if that’s what he actually is is soooooo frustrating. In my opinion the fact that his trauma is so complex and the fact he’s not your typical written victim is what makes him so interesting! And I feel like a lot ppl were slowly getting around to it…

Until GGY and Ruin happened and the hate came back so much worse, Welcome to the real Freddy Hell.

#THIS DOESNT EVEN COVER GGY AND RUIN #but i feel like covering what happened when SB came out gives the gist #bc lets be real #the hate that came from those two other parts #all tie back to SB #and go over the same points i made #if you really want me to make a post like this for GGY and Ruin.. i can certainly try #AND BEFORE ANYONE SAYS THAT THE HATE WAS ONLY BAD BC I MENTIONED TIKTOK #it wasnt just them it was also TUMBLR and TWITTER #so we have variety here #I made a posts similar to this before #i’ll take screenshots and add them to the post if find them again #anyways yea #you could say im a gregory fan…#fnaf sb #fnaf ruin #fnaf gregory

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