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#i mean it isn’t that bad
kaybaeisgay · 11 months
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no but really let’s talk about the dynamic between the older gen spideys vs young gen spideys for a moment, because it’s really got me fucked up.
miguel and all the older gen spideys seem so entirely accepting of all these “canon compliant” rules, because those rules absolutely validate the trauma that every one of them has gone through. the idea of “oh our pain had a reason, oh our heartbreak was for something after all” is a VERY powerful notion that—understandably—they welcome with open arms because they have already lived it.
but the younger gen spideys…. yes, most of them have bought into miguel’s logic for most of the movie, because of course you’re going to listen to the 1,000,000 adults all telling you the same thing when you’re fucking fifteen and desperate for any semblance of mentorship. and it sure does make a lot more sense when you yourself have also experienced a similar trauma to all the others.
but that’s exactly it, isn’t it? they’ve all experienced the same trauma—
that miles and pav have not.
so, no. actually, fuck your rules. and really, fuck your demands that i must suffer what you suffered just because you cannot accept me without it. and good on miles for saying it—good for all of the spideys who realized he was right—realized he was asking all the right questions instead of drawing all the wrong conclusions.
(yet. for all my anger i feel towards the older gen for pressuring him in that way….i also understand why they cling so desperately to these stupid “canon” rules. because, if miles can manage to resist it—if he or gwen or pav can escape what they never could—then suddenly, they have to ask the question of:
“what didn’t i do right?”
and
“was all that pain really for nothing?”
and accepting your life after having to ask those questions instantly becomes much more difficult.)
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slavonicrhapsody · 1 year
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massive shout out to environmental storytelling and esoteric lore in video games. if I don’t look like this while playing a game then what is even the point
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relaxxattack · 13 days
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people will really write rose as a badass girlboss as if her main character trait isn’t hubris. as if her main story arc wasn’t her fucking things over for everyone time and time again by assuming she was better and wiser. oh you think rose is a girlboss? rose who intentionally allowed herself to be corrupted by morally ambiguous terrors because she thought it might give her a slight mental advantage on the game? rose who willingly went along with the manipulation of a groomer because she thought his idea of putting a tumor into the universe was smart? THAT rose? that rose??? why don’t you ask her where the green sun is. since she’s such a competent and intelligent boss bitch
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“OMG! CHLOE TREATS HER FATHER SO TERRIBLY!” 😣
And I understand that!
However, Andre’s a grown adult man, not a freaking baby nor a little boy who needs his father’s approval anymore.
He’s the one who brought her into the world, enabled Chloe, spoiled her rotten, GAVE HER he privileges (the same ones Thomas claims she had), and set a bad example for her. HE put himself into the situation, so HE’S the one that has to deal with it. If you ask me, he needs to grow a spine and do his job as a father instead of expecting everyone to pity him for the bad mistakes that HE made lol 😂
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fab-livious · 4 months
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Broppy enchanted au, I have no idea if anyone has done this before but regardless I will make my own version
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o-wild-west-wind · 6 months
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okay, here’s my actual thoughtful post: I get why people are upset about the finale…I really do. but I want to mention that there’s a bigger picture to this story that’s missing if you’re zooming too close onto Izzy as a character, and I’m honestly so grateful that the show stuck to the thematic arc it introduced in season 1 because, as per usual, it’s about the themes 🤌 and this show never skimps on the symbolism!!
so here’s the thing: the primary themes are toxic masculinity (& it’s opposite, queer joy); trauma; love as a healing force for the above; and, title alert—DEATH. because it’s so much more than a cool title!
now, Izzy has always represented something metaphorical about all of these points; most directly, he’s always represented masculinity, and s2 has been an arc of toxicity deconstruction. but crucially, he’s also represented all that for Ed, who is the deuteragonist of this show. because—don’t forget—Stede and Ed are the show.
I’ve always doubted myself for feeling this after seeing how fandom saw Izzy as a third romantic figure (which like by all means have a blast in your fanfics I don’t care it’s about joy at the end of the day and pursue that as you want to), but after hearing something about djenks referring to Izzy as a father figure, it confirms a major point for me—Izzy is also in a lot of ways a parallel to Ed’s dad, and a representation of the trauma and guilt Ed felt from that formative killing. for so long, Izzy was an aggressive shadow in Ed’s life, and a tangible reminder of those daddy issues—someone telling him what to do, keeping him Blackbeard—and the beautiful thing is how that changed this season, how Izzy became a version of masculinity that could love and be beautiful and make good from the hurt, the literal poison into positivity. someone antithetical to his own paternalistic force, healing our daddy issues one drag show at a time. BUT, Izzy is still thematically representative within Ed’s arc—and by also representing the trauma that made Ed “Blackbeard,” it does make smart writing sense as to why Izzy died (NOT saying you can’t be sad about it—stick with me for a moment).
because here’s the thing—as aforementioned, this show is also about DEATH. killing is the root of everyone’s trauma, and reconciling a relationship with death is the ultimate arc Ed and Stede are both on, with the ultimate path of learning to live despite its inevitability. there’s a reason it was such a huge thing that Ed couldn’t personally kill, and then in this episode killed so many people with his bare hands in the name of love—and there’s a reason that was framed as a good thing. and there’s also Ed’s (and arguably Stede’s) active suicidality, which has been a huge force driving this season. these are characters who see death as this all-consuming thing, and they see their own deaths as the only solution. death is the traumatic force driving almost everything about their being for so long—and its reconciliation is everything for them, the greatest sign of growth. so Izzy’s death, and everyone beginning again with love—healing each other with love—is a cap to it all. it’s death as a positive force, for once. it’s death as love, not trauma. it’s death as something that will always happen, but this time not forced by your own hand. it’s a death to everything toxic, to what “Blackbeard” represented, and all the while a sort of rebirth. it’s kind of a death to…death? it’s functionally like the real physical moon replacing the giant romantic imaginary orb: it’s taking the thing that’s been artificially morphed in Stede and Ed’s heads and making it real this time, with all the bittersweet emotions that come with tangible reality.
and honestly, I’m glad that it was tragic and emotional. I didn’t think I’d be so devastated to see Izzy die, but it really did get to me, especially because of everything he said to Ricky and then to Ed. but think of it this way: Izzy and Ed might be romantically compelling because they were toxic and charged (and I hope people still enjoy everything they get from that dynamic in fan work), but imagine if the show had actually gone in that direction—where would it take us thematically? it would kill the thesis; it would be love as chaos and entertainment, but not healing. instead, this show gave us something so much more powerful: a legitimate, fully-fleshed trauma arc.
trauma hurts. Izzy’s death hurts. but that’s okay. that’s great, actually! it means the storytelling was effective—that Izzy’s arc made you feel something. and i know this won’t be every viewer’s experience, but honestly? I’m glad I can have this grieving process in such a beautifully framed light in the safe space ship of this show, because let’s be real—death, real life death, fucks you up. and let me tell you, I could’ve used this show during so many episodes of grief in my life. but here it is now, reminding us that our grief and trauma doesn’t define us—and WHAT a powerful thing for queer love, especially, to be presented as the thing that heals us all. ESPECIALLY when so much grief and death in this community is woven so deeply with the trauma of our identity.
so grieve as you need to, but don’t forget to turn the poison into positivity 💛 because that’s what the show is telling us—choose live, despite!
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paimonial-rage · 3 months
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wriothesley 3, 16, 17 :3 -- @milkstore
[Character Analysis Ask Meme]
What is Wriothesley’s mbti/enneagram?
Wriothesley is a 9w8 ESTP sp/so.
What is the best way to win Wriothesley’s heart?
Wriothesley is a simple man, and simple men require simple methods. Simply put, the best way to win Wriothesley’s heart is to flirt with him. He doesn’t need much more than that. Challenge him, tease him, take him by surprise. Play hot and cold. Accept his invitations for tea, then spurn his advancements the next. Present yourself as a catch, dance right out of his reach, and let his instincts kick in. But make sure you’re having fun too. It’s not a game if both people aren’t having fun.
What are Wriothesley’s strengths in a relationship?
Of the many traits Wriothesley was blessed with, two that stand out are his level-headedness and his tendency toward action. No matter what you may go through as a couple, he will not be overcome by stress or fear. You can always trust him to be solid no matter the storm. Not to mention you can trust he will not take the backseat in your relationship. If there is anything wrong, he will address it. But more than that, if he sees the chance to make you happy, he will take it, whether it’d be bringing home flowers or taking you on a date to something you want to see. In a relationship, he won’t let you feel alone.
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demonicimagery · 9 months
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you know now that i’ve finished gomens s2 i could probably write an essay on my mixed feelings. what about when a work is - especially so in some parts - very fucking good. thematically interesting and consistent, characterisation that is so painfully human and told in a fascinating manner. but due to a lack of conclusion - inherent because of the format (tv series) - it feels an inherently different sort of narrative to the original. i do not think good omens season two is bad - not at all, but what i do think is it is now a very fundamentally different type of story than that of the book. not because the events of the show don’t happen in the book but because the style of storytelling is altogether different. it’s inherently going to be the case when one of the original creators has sadly passed on, and it doesn’t necessarily make it bad - however it does make it not what personally made me love the book of good omens in the first place. maybe it’s because i came in with certain expectations given that i have read a lot of sir terry pratchett’s other work and basically none of neil gaiman’s, but it’s just a different format of story. like the difference between an epic poem and a serialised story.
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zeb-z · 5 months
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I just think Tallulah gets to be upset about this. “It’s not Wilbur’s fault” “He’s not a bad dad” “He loves his daughter so much” yes! These are all true! And it’s not his fault! But he’s still not there. And Tallulah has gone through so much and still hasn’t seen him, the one time he was around was the one time she wasn’t, and all she has are letters and “I’m thinking of you always” and things that used to be theirs together, but he’s still not there. She’s waited and she’s been patient and she’s loved him all the same, and he’s still not there. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, from the happy milestones to the traumatic events, he’s still not there.
She knows that it’s not his fault, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s absent. That in and of itself just adds to the sorrow, because she knows why he’s gone, and she’s been told time and time again it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, she knows this - it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting, that it doesn’t hurt, that she doesn’t yearn for her father to be there more than anything in the world, and he’s just not there.
So yes, she gets to be upset, and be caustic, and stomp her feet and write bitter messages, and be angry and vitriolic, because she’s a little girl missing her father, who feels things with her whole heart and soul - and that means she gets to feel the ugly parts of it, too.
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bluejeanstrash · 1 year
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hi rachel!!
what do you think about cheol fucking you into subspace 👀
he’s obsessed with it. loves seeing you slowly lose yourself with every passing minute.
i feel like there’s two layers to seungcheol and his love for fucking you into subspace.
the first is purely sexual. depending on what kind of dom he is that day, he loves different aspects of it.
softdom cheol loves how needy you become. your fingers grasping at him, how vulnerable your little voice sounds as he’s fucking you. he loves praising you throughout, adding to that blissful floaty feeling.
masterdom cheol loves your willingness to submit to him. how you give up your body to him - whether you’ll feel pleasure or pain is up to him. how in subspace you’re at his mercy.
meandom cheol…he doesn’t come out that often. but when he does, he relishes every moment of it. he loves it because you’re a stupid blubbering mess. he loves that far away look in your eyes, your nonsensical babbles, how pathetic you become.
but the second layer, the more mental one, is the trust you’ve put in him. he’s a protector. so when you’re completely under his control, mind and body, he wants to protect that.
it’s the fact that you’re willing to fall into a space so vulnerable because you know you can depend on him and you know he won’t let anything happen to you is what really gets him off.
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hcdragonwrites · 8 months
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A Tiger on the Mountain (a @semisolidmind Fanfic)
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Here it is ! Another one. I made up a creature specifically so I could play out a scenario in my head and lead into another fic after this one. This is not a two parter but it leaves it open for a follow up!
TW: Blood and Violence and allusions to torture at the end. (Not of Peaches SHES fine)
“Get out before you become a new rug for me to wipe my feet upon.” Sun Wukong snarled over the table, his staff in his hands. The Nine Tiger Demon took a step backward at the fury. The expedition to this kingdom of monkeys and flowers had been a fools mission. Zari, The Nine Tiger Demon- Lord of the Eastern Waste and Terror of the Snowy Steppes, dipped his head cordially.
“As you wish, my Lord.” The tiger smiled and stepped out of the council room, his great black cape swirling as he exited in a flourish. He had made a jab at the Monkey Kings pride by calling him Lord. He knew that his patience was wearing thin with him. Especially after he had eluded to the weakness of mortal Ally’s.
“It is necessary to procure some of the goods they produce.” Wukong had waved the complaint aside. As if waving a fly. Zari was a lord of a snowy country where resources were few and blood was spilt as common as the snowfall. His kind had been hunted by poachers for their pelts. For the magic quality in their stripped bodies. Bones, blood, tendons, fur, claws… Everything in a tigers body was hunted for medicine, magic and mayhem. To hear that the most feared creature west of his kingdom, the great demonic Monkey King who had challenged Heaven, had made treaties with humans…
Zari had licked his muzzle sensing weakness.
“Why treat when you can take?” The tiger lord had questioned. His attendants beside him fidgeted, their hands straying to the scimitars belted to their sides. A twitch of his tail tip called them off. A tiger was playing with a monkey to see what sort of prey it had between his claws.
“And cause further disharmony around me ? Mortal men are easily placated. It leaves me free to put my resources into more important things.” Here the monkey leaned forward, eyes glowing with the torchlight. “Like seeking new territories in the east.”
The threat was received but Zari didn’t rise to the bait. He was a patient creature. The scars on his stripped hands and body proved how many battles and hunters he had outwitted.
Of course Zari had only come to sieze up the competition in the West. He never had any intentions of swearing allegiance to the ape. To debase himself to an ape? Never. So it only took Wukong a few more verbal jousts to also know the game was at an end. He had dismissed the tiger with a threat. Zari kept his claws velveted. For now.
As he stepped out of the corridor he let the slightest bit of agitation show in his whiskered face. A twitch of a tail brought one of his attendants forward.
“Gather the lower Claw.” Zari whispered. “They need a good hunt.”
“Of course my King.” The lesser demon bowed and raced off, light as a feather in the wind. At least that would humble the foolish ape—
Zari came around the corner and bumped straight into something soft, and pliable. His claws caught it reflexively before the thing fell completely onto his black armor and ruined his perfect complexion. He hissed, about to snap at this new weaker underling of a foolish king when the scent hit the top of his mouth.
Human.
“I’m so sorry!” It was female. The women pulled from the tiger claws. Her eyes remained cast down. Simple peasant clothes. Hair tied up in a messy updo. Flushed cheeks, good proportions. The tigers eyes had been blown wide.
“Are you alright miss?” Zira smoothed the twitching of his whiskers, kept the lashing of his tail to a minimum. But his instincts roared and his mouth pooled. “I did not mean to bump into so harshly.”
A captured peasant girl? A pet of this monkey kings?
“Oh no it was my fault!” The women said. She finally looked up and the tiger demon got a good look at the curve of her throat. The hot pulse just inches from his fangs.
From further down the corridor someone called “PEACHES!” The girl stiffened a bit then smiled sheepishly.
Zira felt as if he was a wolf in the sheep pen.
“I should have been watching where I was going. Carry on!” She bowed and then quickly scuttled off.
“Well well well…”Zira smiled to himself as another monkey ran past and after the fleeing women. He felt his grin widen, the drool threatening to slip. “Look like I have some entertainment myself…”
For Zari, The Nine Tiger Demon- Lord of the Eastern Waste and Terror of the Snowy Steppes, was whispered and feared by mortals across his snowy slice of the world. Legends told of how he would slip in as silent as a ghost. How he would visit families and paint their walls in red crimson and spattered gore. For Zari was a man eater, a enjoyer of mortal flesh. And his favorite prey that he enjoyed devouring most was women.
This conquest just got a bit more interesting.
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“I Demand compensation.”
The threat would have come off more terrifying from the Monkey King if he had been dressed in his armor. However he was… not. Instead Wukong was at the present moment, begging on Peaches lap beneath a cherry tree. His face was a storm cloud as he lifted Peaches hands up to his head.
“I am afraid you won’t be getting any.” Peaches let her hand fall limply off. The stormy face broke into a beggars crocodile tears.
“PEACHESSSS!”
Macaque would have snickered at his sworn brother begging but he was also not getting any sort of touches from Peaches. He didn’t know why she had decided today of all days to deny both of them.
Why was she withholding scratches from her husbands? Well. For many reasons. For one, one of them startled her awake this morning by swooping her into his arms because he got a little too excited and woke her from her dreams. It also triggered a huge sort of panic because she has had enough of nightmares on being snatched away thank you.
Of course telling the one begging at her knees right now that his over exuberance this morning had been one of the reasons for no pats, would only lead to more exuberance.
A second reason she was including both and not just the one who scooped her ? Well because the day before Macaque thought it would be funny to pop one of his shadows beneath her while she was trying to brush her hair and in the fall the hairbrush - still tucked into her hair- wrenched. It had been painful and she had lost several bits of her own hair in it.
And thirdly? Because these two had, for all intensive purposes of the words, kidnapped her and forced her to live here upon the mountain. Yes she was still bitter about it. No she wouldn’t get over it. At least not today. Too many tricks were tugged and her personal space breached for her to simply let it go. A little bodily autonomy and boundary would be nice. Instead her two lovers would look at her as one would a family cat and go “awwwwwwww!” and scoop her up.
So two very peeved simians sat cross legged staring her down. Wukongs tail was lashing back and forth, his eyes narrowed like a cats. He reached forward and grabbed Peaches hand again. She had learned long ago that giving them the satisfaction of her resistance- how cute! They would say as she practically threw all manner of pellmell closet clutter at them- would only prolong their inevitable smothering of her.
Being impassive was her best weapon.
So she let her hand be limply lifted.
Just as limply it slid off the Monkey Kings head.
“Peaches! Come on!” Wukong groaned. He sounded like a kid begging for sweets. Peaches sniffed. The day was nice at least. She had made her way out of Water Curtain Cave and out onto the mountainside before her attendant could shove and stuff her into royal courtly attire. Not today! Peaches hadn’t wanted to attend court. She hadn’t wanted to be near that council room. Her accidental bump into that demon had been as close as she had gotten. A tiger demon? Now that was something she hadn’t seen yet.
Wukong laid himself over her lap, his face pouting up at her. He looked… adorable. It was almost enough for her to forget about his transgression this morning. It wasn’t enough. She turned her head away.
Only for Macaque to be there. He had somehow snuck up, as was his silent way, and pressed himself to her back. He slipped her into his lap, and Peaches felt a little spark of unease. Macaque was the slower of the two when it came to affection, sneaking it in or trying to tease it from her. Wukong was all action and joyful tugs and play. His was earnest and forward. Macaque was… sly. Teasing. A fox inside the chicken house.
“Sweet peach, come now.” His hands settled around her. His breath tickled the shell of her ear and Peaches fought the blush from rising in her face. Think of rocks and birds. What you will eat tonight. Anything but how his voice and how it feels rumbling against me.
“We just want to have a little comfort.” The dark furred monkey lifted her hand. He entwined his fingers in hers. They were so large. The practically swamped her own. The claws slide along the fingers as he lifted her hand and tugged it into his fur onto his cheek.
“Come on, little plumb.” His smile was as sweet as honey, as soft as downy feathers. If it had been any other day she would have mussed his fur and teased him back. However Macaque made a mistake of touching her hair with a free hand. Reminding Peaches that this little trickster had yanked some of her hair out.
She let her hand remain lax.
“No.”
“Then you leave both of us no choice.”
Macaque leaned back and with a woosh and gasp of air and black- they were back in their room. The pillow pit cushioned their fall, as did Macaque who lay beneath her. Peaches let out an indignant squeak as the demon monkey growled playfully in her ear.
“You have only a few moments before Wukong gets here. Do you want to tell me what’s up?”
“No.” Peaches sniffed. His hand was trailing along her skin, almost walking up her arm.
“Are you mad at him?” Macaque asked.
“Yes”
“Are You mad at me?”
“Yes.”
“Is it … a mad kind of day?”
She didn’t respond.
He tutted and tugged her hands free of where she had shoved them beneath her arms. He placed one against the side of his head, eyes gently closing. He kissed her palm, her wrist, her arm.
“Come on my sweet… just indulge us both..”
“No.”
“Little minx.” The purple eyes flashed along with that sharp toothed smile. Peaches felt her face flush. Macaque leaned in and over her now, his free hand twining in the hair on the back of her neck. The demon was angling her from being the one on top, to sliding her into the pillow pit with the dark haired monkey hovering above. He pulled her up and into him, and Peaches had the startling realization that she was so very very small and he was so very very large all of a sudden.
“What sins do I have to whisper into your ears ? What marks should I leave upon your skin to earn your affection again?” His eyes dipped to her lips. Peaches face felt like it was afire. “Should I sing your praises into your skin with my teeth?”
Oh dear.
And then the moment of tension was broken by a furious orange blur bursting into the room and tackling both of them. Peaches cried out while Macaques face looked deadpan at his sworn brother. The moment of tension, of turning Peaches pink as a lychee fruit, was over.
“MACAQUE! THATS NOT FAIR!” The monkey king was entangled with both of them as he grabbed the other hand and shoved it into his fur. Peaches only held onto them now as they jostled her. “HOW MANY HEADSCRATCHES DID YOU GET?”
“None…” His face was exasperated, his tail twitching at the tip.
“None?” Wukong echoed.
“None!” Macaque slammed his head closer to Wukong. Peaches was perfectly sandwiched between her husbands very bare and very exposed chests as the two brothers bristled at each other. She was loosing her own power of wills because … well. Peaches was only human. She could barely stay mad at one Monkey half dressed. Two half dressed and practically pressed cheek to pec against either side of your face ? It was a marvel her body didn’t burn up on the spot from how much she was blushing.
“Why you shouting at me then?!”
“You spoiled my sport before I could tease some out of her.”
“Oh?” Wukongs eyes shot downward. Peaches looked away, feeling like she got caught watching.
Oh no.
The two demons looked down on her. And Peaches felt like she was in danger. Not a you-will-die-and-be-disemboweled way. More of you-will-be-turned-into-a-second-sun-from-how-much-we-will-tease-you kind of way. They loomed over their mortal wife, ears perked forward and grins becoming sharp and feral.
Another burst through the door however saved Peaches from being turned into a puddle beneath the attentions of her husbands.
“Ugh what is it now?” Macaque sighed.
“My King! We are under attack!”
The two warlords changed from flirting devils to stiff and immovable stones as they stood. Macaques ears swished, forward and back, each set twitching as he confirmed it.
Wukong was across the room, his armor back on his body in a flash. His staff was plucked free from his ear, elongating in a flourish.
“Where?” The Sages voice was a silent rumble.
“Off the south slope- a band of panthers by the look of it.” The sentry’s tail was puffed in fear. Wukong nodded and was off in a flash of fur and fury.
Someone was attacking the mountain? They must be crazy. Insane. Or have a death wish.
Macaque set Peaches firmly in the Pillow pit, eyes somber.
“Love don’t move. Don’t leave this room. Understand ?” His face was pinched in worry bordering on fury. He was trying to maintain his composure for her, to hold back the anger that was threatening to bubble upward. Peaches may think of her boys a lot of way. They were selfish when they wanted her attention. They had taken her away reluctantly from her home. She had been forced to live her for the past decade or so. Her husbands were warlords, murderers and Demons.
They also cared for her a great deal, in a way that no mortal could compare. They clothed her in the finest garb but also gave her the option of comfort. They brought her to the Palace and laid laws down among the fellow demonic ally’s that she was to be respected and treated as an extension of Wukong and Macaques power. They brought her gifts from the outside world when they came back from expeditions, made her foods from the finest ingredients, told her stories of their travels. On nights when the past came back to rear it’s head she could find comfort in one or both of their arms.
And at times like this, she felt thankful that, of all the kidnapping creatures in the world, at least it had been these two.
That didn’t sound like a plus at all.
Macaque was waiting for her response. Peaches shook herself free of the cobwebs, of the past and back into the present. The mountain was under fire. Something was trying to earn the ire of the Monkey King and his People. As a very soft once mortal immortal now, Peaches had no sort of power to defend with or help. She was a liability, at least until she began her own cultivation, on the battlefield. So Peaches nodded.
“Yes.”
It was all Macaque needed. He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered “Good girl.”
And he was gone, falling into shadow.
“Hellooooo?”
Peaches started awake at the voice. Disoriented she disentangled herself from the soft fur and pillows she had been wedged between. She must have fallen asleep some time in the day. The light coming from the windows was a burnished gold, sunset settling on the
“Someone help! Help me please…”
The voice was disjointed, the sound echoing from beyond the closed doors. It set her skin to crawling. Shouldn’t there be guards ? Shouldn’t there be someone outside the doors?
“HELP. SOMEONE HELP!”
The voice sounded like a baby! The shrill high note cut through the last hesitation Peaches had. She opened the door and rushing out into the corridor.
The echos of her footfalls bounced back to her from the stone walls. The cry came again, a baby monkey hooting in distress. It came from around corridors, downs passageways. Peaches raced forward until she had burst out of the cavern and into the dying light of the sun.
The grass swayed in the breeze. The shadows danced across the field, like stripes on a great tigers back.
She felt a shiver go up her spine. Something was terribly wrong. It felt off - the world felt off. The mountain was usually brimming with life and sound. Birds would be calling even at this late hour when day turns to night. The cicadas would be sonorously screaming their complaints to the night air. However…
Everything was still. Not a insect nor a bird called out. There were no generals or other monkeys present on the mountain. Usually sentries were littered about the fields and slopes. There was no one here at this moment.
That’s wrong. Completely wrong…
A faint gurgle, a dying cry of a baby monkey from somewhere just ahead.
“Where are You?” Peaches called. The child sounded in pain- and the sooner she got them inside the cave, the better. “You have to tell me where you are so I can help you.”
“Typical mortals.” The voice came from behind and peaches whipped around. A tiger demon, a creature of immense size and with terrifying teeth, toward behind her. Zira held the languid look of a cat with a full belly, tail swaying in the grass and claws meticulously being groomed. The blood from those long claws was the fresh scarlet of new blood.
“Your kind always come when lured by another— I was wondering if I should do a human baby or a mortal imitation but, seeing as you’ve been collared and tamed by monkeys, I thought that would be the easiest way to lure you out.” The tiger lord grinned. Peaches saw that he was fully armored. The black leather of his body was painted in dark splotches of red.
He’s … killed people. Who has he killed?? Where’s the baby ??
Peaches stepped cautiously back into the grass, heart racing. The tiger lords eyes grew round.
“Are you trying to run?” His voice was practically a pur as he stood straighter. “Please do. The chase will be good for me and clear this monstrous smell of ape blood.”
“What do you want?” Peaches needed to stall. To find a way to keep the beast talking. He liked to talk to full the silence. “Why are you here?”
“Those are boring questions dear morsel. Boring indeed. You mortals think all the same- but at least you taste better then your little brains think.” Zira stepped forward and into Peaches bubble- forcing her backward and further away from the cave. “Why am I Here ? Well to play. It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to play with another demons pet.”
Another slow pace forward. Another hasty retreat from Peaches.
“I can understand. I play rough. It’s hard when you all … scream at the slightest break of bone. At the sudden loss of limb…” the tiger lords body seemed to grow, a secondary face appearing from its left cheek. The new muzzle opened and in horror peaches heard people crying, of mortal women begging for their children. The voices of men pleaded for wives and sons and daughters. Anguished cries, cries of pain. Voices from the past.
Dead voices.
“They never last long.” The tiger smirked, that new face along his left side turning upward as well.
“So when I came to see this terrifying demon lord who has challenged heaven I expected him to have a show of strength. What I didn’t expect was a pet like you.” Those eyes flashed.
“Why? Wukong is the strongest Why—“
“Why did I not expect you?” Zira snorted. “Because demons forget themselves when they stop consuming lesser beasts and start befriending them.”
Peaches looked about her. She wouldn’t be able to make a dash back to the caves. This tiger was driving her further and further from safety. She had been a fool to try and help, a damned fool. The next best thing she could do was to try and stay alive long enough. Long enough for her to call out. Wukong or Macaque would hear her. She had no doubt on that. There was also the willow tree just ten feet behind her. If she could get to it and climb she may be able to stall out this demon.
“Now dear. How would you like to die?” The tiger was closer now as Peaches kept stepping back. She was almost back pedaling, trying to stay out of the range of those claws. Of those red teeth. “I could kill you by fang or claw. Or maybe a sword would be better. But then… where’s the fun in it for me if you die so quickly ?”
Peaches spun on her heel and ran.
“HELP!” Her lungs filled with more air, to shout to the Heavens above. The grasses bent beneath her flight. She had almost made it to the tree, almost got enough air to scream again when something slammed into her shoulder. Bright hot pain bloomed and she fell to the dirt. Her hands reached up and came away with sticky blood.
“Calling for help is useless.” Zira licked the fresh blood clean from his claws, enjoying the taste of terror on his tongue. “My men have them busy against the farthest side of the mountain.”
Peaches rolled, to get up to get away she did not know. Her movement was stopped by a booted heel to her shoulder. The new pain elicited a scream to peak from her lips. It rang eerily off the mountain that was so still. So awfully still.
“The pain will only be temporary.” Zira knelt. The tiger reached down with his clawed hands. He cupped her face as she fought him. He smiled and opened his jaws wide to close over her throat.
The suns last dying ray cast a shadow as black as night over the grassy floor. It pooled beneath the mortal women and then, with a slip and tug, Ziras prey was swallowed by the black. The tiger snarled claws raking the soil in a vain attempt to dig her back out.
“So it was you.”
Zira turned.
There, leaning against his staff was the Monkey King. His clawed hands and golden armor were covered in black blood. Zira felt a worm of unease creep into his calm and cocky smile. Those warriors had been the best of his Claw- the best in the Snowy Steppes. There was no way they had failed—
“Ah King Wukong!” The tiger Lord began. If he could stall him out, lead him into a false sense of security, then that would be better. It would buy him time to get closer, to steal into range and pounce. “So nice to see you agai—-“
The tiger lord didn’t even see the moment. On second the orange monkey was standing before him and the next he felt a blooming pain cut along his secondary face. He roared in confusion as the sight from those eyes was lost in a shower of blood. The tiger had no time to reorient himself however. The neck blow was to one of his hands. Sun Wukong clasped one in hand and with a terrible crunch, shattered all the bones within.
Panic came traipsing up the tigers spine. This was not good. The monkey was moving incredibly fast - too fast- for him to counter. He reached for his Scimitar- the blade of Nine Tigers- to end the fight. This blade could cut mountain in half- it could cleave souls from bodies and leave the flesh whole.
“You come to my mountain…”
The staff slammed into the side of his head, casting several of the tigers teeth from his jaws. He was unbalanced but determined. He just had to grab his sword —
“You attack my home…”
Another blow to his middle sent him slamming into the willow tree. The force of it snapped the bark and collapsed the Willow behind him. Zira felt stars float in his vision, tasted his own blood. He had a hand on his sword now though. He drew the blade, cutting it across the insolent ape that towered over him. Wukongs soul would be cleaved, his body left behind for the flies to lay eggs in. He would be dead. The blade sliced —
And snapped in half.
“You tried to devour my wife…” Fear is not something a tiger experienced often. It raced over his stripes, twitched his crushed whiskers, and made his eyes widen. That had been his wife ? That common little dustmote ? Zira had miscalculated. A pet was one thing. But a wife —
“You took… a mortal… as a wife? Pa—“ Zira tried for bravado, tried to spit into the monkey lords face. The tiger was desperately clinging to what remained of his pride. He had chased a rabbit into a ravine and found wolves.
Zira opened his jaws to cast his last disrespect. Only for the claws of Wukong to cut along his jaw and crush it closed before he could finish.
“I will break every bone in your body before I let you die. You will wish you were dead before I’m done with you.”
The shadows swallowed Peaches and arms wrapped around her but she was still flailing. She grabbed at fur and skin and battered her fists and nails against it.
“Ow - PEACHES - PEACHES ITS ME!” Macaque voice cut over the adrenaline that floated high and fast in her blood. She blinked at him. They were back in their room, back inside Water Curtain Cave. Peaches hand was still curled in a fist, still raised up to beat along her captors face. Only. This wasn’t the tiger anymore. It was Macaque.
“It’s just me.”
“I’m not dead am I?” What stupid words to say but it was the first thing her numb mind could think on.
“What? No.” Macaques face was a sea of worry lines as he gently turned her shoulder to him. The blood was sopping beneath the cloth of her shirt. He gave it a sniff and murmured in soothing tones. Mostly to himself. “But I’m concerned for your shoulder. Let’s get that looked at alright ?”
Peaches nodded. Macaque used his claws to rip free the ruined cloth of the shirt and gain better access to the claw marks.
“It’s an ugly scratch but nothing deep.” She felt his hands, paper soft press along the skin. She hissed at the fiery pain as damaged nerves and sore skin protested. “Peaches you will have to be brave for me and let me stich it closed ok?”
She nodded. Her mind was still processing the events just moments ago. Of tiger teeth flashing to bite her throat. Of claws cutting her skin. Macaque returned to her and tugged her into him. She didn’t protest. Didn’t stop as he pulled her hand up to his face. She twined her fingers into the fur, needing the grounding almost, if not more, then he did. Macaque made soothing chirps and soft noises as he worked, pulling needle through flesh and closing it up.
It was only after a time, when Peaches own fear began to fall away, that he asked her.
“Why did you leave the room Peaches ?”
“I heard … it sounded like one of the babies Mac.” One of the little monkey babies all alone and crying for help. The haunting sound echoing off the stone and always just out of reach. “One of the littles in pain and hurt. I didn’t think. I just … acted.”
“Mmm.” Another stich pressed into her skin and she flinched. “You know this means you will have to have a day guard now yes?”
“Are you putting more restrictions on me after I almost got devoured ?” It was a bad attempt at humor but Peaches tried anyway. Whenever something happened to her - if it was an imagined insult from a courtier, a threat to her life because she tried something new and it didn’t agree with her- the boys would set new limits, new conditions. Macaque scowled at her and she bit her tongue from adding to the humor.
“Precautions. If I hadn’t heard you—“ His voice chocked at the end. Peaches looked back. Macaques ears were all low, dropping like flower petals. For all their faults, for their transgressions in taking her choices from her, they loved her. Peaches could see that love in Macs eyes as he imagined the possible outcomes that could have happened. She twirled her fingers around s patch of his fur, soothing him and herself with the confirmation that this was the reality now and not those flashing teeth.
“We can’t loose you Love. I — we — we were so afraid.” When Macaque had heard the strangled help in the heat of battle he had stopped. He had felt his heart give a lurch and Wukong had been of like mind. That battle was practically won. Between the two sworn brothers, nothing much could stand in their fury. But hearing Peaches— Peaches who they left back safe in their room, in the palace, calling for help—
“I was too.”
“When I tell you to stay inside - stay inside. Understand?”Anger laced Macaques words as he pinned her with a look.
“Yes.” It wasn’t good enough though. Not for him. It wouldn’t be for Wukong. The next time the mountain was under attack—if there was a next time— Macaque would lock the doors and the windows. He would shudder the room in shadow if he had to. But. A yes for now was the best he would get from her.
“Good. That’s all the chewing out I’ll give you because when Wukong gets here he’s going to have some very harsh words with you.” Peaches shoulders flinched a little.
“He’s mad at me?” There was genuine hurt and dismay in her voice. Wukong and Peaches had the toughest days when it came to their relationship. Some days she could forget he had taken her without her consent from all she knew- had wiped her village clear off the map. Other days she only saw the blood soaked Warlord in all his fury. On those days arguments ensued and the kings mood was ever sour.
“Never mad at You.” Macaque reassured. Wukong never was genuinely upset at their peach. How could he be when he was enamored with her so? Macaque couldn’t even keep his own anger at her negligence of self after todays events. All she had to do was look at him with that puppy dog look and he was wanting to tease and soothe her into smiles and comfort. “Never. Afraid for your life ? Absolutely. He has half a mind to keep you indoors from now on.”
“He said that ?”
“As we were racing to come get you yes.” Macaque finished the stitches with a pull and tug. The cord came free in his claws. He set about binding cotton gauze around the area to protect the stitches. In the morning he would let them breathe.
“But I think if you let him coddle you for a few days and you agree to a guard, he won’t take your outside privileges away.” Macaque teased and gave advice. Wukong could get a bit … territorial when it came to their Peach. He understood how important it was to give some sort of semblance of freedom to her. Peaches was like a flower- she needed light and air to thrive. If Wukong took that away, he wouldn’t like how she would wilt. Even though Macaque himself had half a mind to keep her inside forever. Especially after today.
Peaches head brushed beneath his chin suddenly and the monkey was jarred from his thoughts. She was nodding off, fighting sleep. Macaque gathered her up easily and set her into the bed they shared. He took care to arrange the pillows, to settle her into her most favorite blankets and soft things. It was a distraction from the rage that now was bubbling upward. For though Macaque had the calmest demeanor- he was just as bloody and furious as his brotherly counterpart.
“Go to sleep.” He commanded. Peaches yawned, catching the trailing end of his tail.
“You won’t leave me … will you?”
“I will be right here till Wukong gets back.”
It was hours later when Macaque heard his brother step into their rooms. Wukong had bathed and cleaned himself elsewhere from the smell of the water and floral oils coming off of him. They both knew how Peaches had an aversion to the scent of blood. The monkey king was across the room and hovering over the pillow pit where she slept.
“How is she?” Wukong asked. All the rage had gone from him. Only worry remained. His tiny little wife… he could still see the Tiger hovering above her, his jaws parted wide over her throat to devour. It made Wukong wish to break his muzzle again.
“Worn out. The cuts are superficial at best. I stitched them up.” The sheen of white medical gauze and cotton took over one lovely shoulder of Peaches back. Wukong felt his teeth beginning to grit in a threatening smile.
“Why would she go outside?! Peaches isn’t a fool.”
“And she wasn’t one.” Macaque soothed. He was standing now that Wukong was here, making his way to the door slowly. “She went outside because she heard the bastard imitate a baby cry.”
“A baby?”
“She thought it was one of the babies.” Wukongs heart gave a shudder. Of course she would throw caution to the wind. His Peaches loved the children of the mountain almost as much as he himself did. “Peaches said she went out to look and that’s when he leapt at her.”
Wukong felt a bit of his anger ebb. He was never angry at Peaches. He could never be. But anger around how she acted ? … yes. That was a possibility. Hearing how she didn’t go out until she thought it was a baby- well. He couldn’t fault her for that.
“The sentries are dead.” Wukong had come across their bodies after restraining the tiger demon. Seeing his peoples cut throats and crumpled bodies had not soothed his anger. He hoped the tiger healed quickly enough so he could repay them for each of his peoples lives. “The tiger killed them. He thought he could kill me by swinging his fancy sword. Too bad it snapped on the first try.”
“Did you leave him alive?” Macaque was at the door now, his fists uncurled.
“He’s somewhere beneath us in a wet cave. I broke all the bones in his body. But … I Left the tail for you.”
“Good.” The door opened and his brother was gone.
Wukong stared at Peaches as she slept for a moment. He had almost lost her today. He half wanted to wake her up and shake her and the other half just wanted to keep her tucked away and safe inside the mountain. Wukong would pull promises and such from her tomorrow. In fact, he may have to teach her some basic self defense. She would never be able to stop a full demonic beast. It would ease his mind however - it would sooth him and settle the fur that kept rising along his back- if she at least had an understanding of what tricks and traits demons used to tempt food out of hiding.
Wukong slid into the nest, settling himself so he didn’t jostle her awake. Tomorrow he could sit her down and tell her the new precautions he would have to merit out. A new guard, lessons in defense, maybe even a copy of him nearby or in the shape of some common item… Wukong could gift her a hairpin each morning and do her hair with a copy of himself. A magical copy that would have ears out for any mischief she may wind up falling into.
It would give her the illusion of freedom without telling her I put a spy on her person. That made Wukong feel better. For the next few days however, she wasn’t leaving his side. He didn’t care if she cried out or pouted or started to throw things. They had almost lost her.
Peaches half woke with a start as Wukong adjusted the blankets about her. Her face came upward, staring and trying to see all about.
“Wukong?”
“It’s just me… you can go back to sleep.”
To his astonishment Peaches shifted, settling herself into his chest. Wukong welcomed her tangle, twining has hands into her hair as she tugged on his fur. Her cheek was pressed to his chest where his heart must be hammering beneath. The Monkey king made soothing chirps and soft calls to her, a reassurance of safety and care. Soon enough her fingers relaxed again as she fell into sleep.
He kissed her temple and nose, twirling his fingers through her hair. It was just as soothing for him as it probably was for her.
Wukong was glad the tiger had been able to survive him. He couldn’t wait to gift his pelt to her when he was finished with him.
If Macaque didn’t kill him after all.
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hyperfixatedfandomer · 6 months
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I need an angsty found family AU where Olrox, instead of killing Richter’s mother as revenge for taking his lover instead goes “you took someone I loved, so I’ll take someone you cherish” and up and kidnaps little Richter. One second the boy is there and the next, shadows descend onto the empty street, and the moment after — he’s just gone.
THE DRAMA of Olrox traveling the world and keeping the kid at first purely to spite and worry his mother, or as part of some evil plan to lure her to her death, but quickly grows attached to him and they become this duo of vamp dad and his (not) son. The angst of Richter hating his abductor and crying and kicking him and telling him that he hates his guts, but when night falls and nightmares force little Belmont to turn and toss in his sleep, it’s Olrox’s lullabies that keep him calm, sung in a language he doesn’t know but with a gentleness only a parent could provide.
And as Olrox puts a hand on Richter’s head, carding his hair he realises, terror-struck, that he doesn’t want to let the kid go. He comes to a horrific conclusion that this is his baby now, whether the kid likes it or not, and it sends the old man’s mind into a spin.
Richter is unlike anything Olrox ever had. He’s never been a father, and doesn’t know how express love and care he’s so desperate to provide. He thinks of turning his newfound son more than once, but settles on waiting as for a little vampire hunter, an event like that would be far too traumatic.
And let’s talk about Richie himself for a second. This poor baby was about to travel to his aunt’s place one night and then got express-adopted by an immortal who is surprisingly gentle with him, yet doesn’t plan on letting him go. As result, baby Belmont throws tantrums every chance he gets, tries using fire-magic against the man (to no avail) and attempts to escape at every turn. At first, he’s in fight or flight mode almost constantly because he knows that the dragon vampire has to be using him for some evil ploy…but then weeks pass, a month, and there doesn’t seem to be much of an evil ploy happening. The two of them simply travel form place to place, where Richter has to awkwardly stand while his…kidnapper? Temporary guardian? Is running errands and talks to other gross, smelly vampires.
He hates Olrox, he’s confused, he feels a strange warmth in his chest when the vampire picks him up and carries him around when he’s too tired to walk, or checks up on him to make sure he’s warm and well-fed.
Just imagine the bittersweetness of Richie developing a bond with his captor in these horrible circumstances, and they start to get along. He feels all kinds of guilt and self-hate for it, every time he fails to stifle a giggle at Olrox’s jokes or can’t help but lean in when he offers comfort.
It’s just such a messy, tragic dynamic, don’t you think?
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skull friend & critter also want to remind u that critical thinking is important.
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bugeyedfreaks · 3 months
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inflation is so bad that at this point this is the only housing any of us ppg fans can afford
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crybaby-bkg · 9 months
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“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.
His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.
“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.
“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.
His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.
“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.
“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”
He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.
“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.
“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.
He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.
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hrryshoney · 3 months
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gyno matty on a conference call presenting his work and she’s sitting between his legs with his dick in her mouth and she tries to pull some shit and he goes insanely mean dom on her afterwards…
omg leila… yes in every way imaginable! imagining this on a zoom while he’s working remote lol. (also mean dom💕💞💓) i feel like they hve established a safe word so do w that what u will
Matty’s in his home office, and you can hear the voices from his computer. He’s dressed nicely, no lab coat but something reminiscent of a uniform. His glasses are on and he looks highly professional. You, however, are anything but.
You’ve been horny for him all day, since he left you needy this morning. His mouth on your cunt, not letting you finish but promising you that he would later. He would if you were a ‘good girl’ for him, and you waited for him to finish his meeting. You’ve been rubbing your thighs together in bed, and then trying to distract yourself.
This evidently didn’t work, as now you’re standing outside his office and staring at him from the doorframe. His eyes glance towards you, offering you a smile and nothing more. When he all but ignores you, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
That’s how you got on your hands and knees and crawled towards him, and under his desk. That is also how you’ve been sitting under his desk, cock in your mouth for what feels like an eternity. Matty had turned his camera off when you did, trying to regroup and playing it off as internet issues.
He was stern with you, telling you to keep him warm and nothing else. That he would reward you if you listened. But the throb of your pussy is too much to ignore, and you keep shifting on your thighs. He’ll cast you a few looks now and again, none of them friendly. But other than that, you seemed to be invisible to him.
Your desperation got the better of you, taking your mouth off him to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock. You hear him falter as he speaks, a slight stutter. It makes you smile, knowing you can get him like this. You bob your head on him, spitting on his cock and making it as sloppy as you can.
Matty’s hand comes down under the desk, grabbing the back of your head and forcing the rest of his cock in your mouth. He keeps his hand there, but you purse your lips around him enough to swirl your tongue around his length. You hear his breath catch in his throat, and you know you’ve got him.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry. There’s a bit of an emergency in my house, can we reschedule the last part of this meeting?” From the strain of his voice, you know Matty’s on his last straw. You hear the ushering of other doctors. They’re all supportive, telling him to take his time, and that all this is trivial, it can wait. Matty must be well above respected in his field. But, what would his colleagues think if they could see you under the table with his cock in your mouth?
You hear him click on his keyboard, the room going silent. He’s left the call. Unfortunately for you, Matty looks mad. “Can’t be good for three fucking seconds? Always have to be a slut, huh?”
He’s rough, pulling from the roots of your hair so you look at him. You can’t help but smile, the corners of your mouth upturning. “I am being good for you, Doctor. I thought this was what you wanted?” You bait him, and he knows this. The poor on your lips, and wide round eyes. But, he falls for it every time.
“I know you’re too dumb to think when you’ve got my cock inside you, but I thought you were at least a little smart. Guess I thought too much of a whore like you.” Matty grabs your jaw roughly, surely leaving bruises. “Open your fucking mouth.”
You oblige, now wouldn’t be the best time for a snarky remark. He presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you gag slightly. When he removes his hand he spits directly in your mouth You swallow without second thought.
“Shouldn’t let you cum. Should just fuck your mouth, leave you here all wet and achey. S’what you deserve.” Your whines are immediate, you’re shaking your head and protesting his words.
“N-no please, Doctor Healy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Just needed you, and I’ve needed you all morning. Please.” Your bottom lip wobbles, and you really could cry. You’ve been so needy all day. All you want is Matty. He doesn’t seem to care though when he scoffs.
He pumps his dick in his hand, smearing the pre-cum down his length and then tapping it on your bottom lip. “Don’t start with your tears, Princess. It meant nothing to you when I was in my meeting, huh? My job’s important, can’t just fuck you all day.” He pushes his cock into your mouth, watching your lips stretch around him. When you moan, he knows you like what you hear.
His degradation is making you squeeze your thighs together, squirming in place on your knees. “Bet you wish I could stay home and stuff you full all day. You’d be so happy, right? Little girl whose only responsibility is taking my dick.” He slaps your face, only allowing you to pull back when you gag around him. There’s tears streaming down your face now, and Matty’s smiling.
Matty pulls you off of him, lifting you up to face level to whisper in your ear. “If you’re crying now.. I’m scared for you, baby. Not even started with you yet, and you’re moaning like a bitch.” And he shoves you back onto your knees.
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