#I can feel my unholy ass going to hell for writing these

[g0rechan]

May we see those spicy ghost pepper hcs?

Massive TW: Grooming, Sexual Coercion, Forced prostitution, Stockholm syndrome, etc.

Disclaimer: As usual, these are not meant to be romantic. Enjoy.

- Midori will do anything to distract herself from the abuse that she'll deep clean the entire apartment. She find herself completely exhausted and will collapse on the futon by the end of it.

- (Yea I hc that they live in some crappy little apartment)

- When Muchisute sees her lying down on the bed, he'll use his foot to stroke her body, much to her discomfort.— The more uncomfy she is, the better it is for him.

- Sadly, this all ultimately backfires on Midori since now that she's exhausted and can't move, Muchi can use her to his own advantage :(

-Muchisute will buy porn mags and they'll look at them together. Midori will just feel so squeamish and uncomfortable while Muchi's just like 😩

- Sometimes he'll get so hard that he just straight up tells Midori to take off his undergarments and start jerking him off.

- Either way, once they're done he'll force Middy to reenact the actions from the magazines.

- When this happens, She tries her hardest to hold back her tears and comply with his demands, hoping to avoid his anger.

-On one occasion, he got so horny he started stripping her while she was doing this.

- Muchi has definitely forced Midori to prostitute herself. He’ll invite guys to the house and they’ll pay him to “use his sex toy”🤢

- Muchisute is just smiling and chuckling as this is happening while Midori’s bawling her eyes out. :(

- Muchi will force Midori to wear lingerie and almost next-to-nothing. Nothing modest allowed, no sir.

- Bro could be using money to pay the damn bills but nah instead he gotta spend it on some cute lolita cherry printed cotton bra and undies set—

- Anyways, the first time Middy was forced to don a lingerie…. He came home and was like “heyyyyy Midori I got something for youuuu <3 Issa surprise tho😊🤫”

>>>Don’t mind me, I use humor to tone down how rlly fudged up this all is…

-Midori feels incredibly uneasy and genuinely terrified. She can’t even fathom what he has in store for her now.

- So he brings her to the room and shows her what’s what… He’s like, “SUPRISE😄 now put it on.”. She is utterly shocked and disgusted in every possible manner. Once she puts it on, what unfolds next is simply...

- On this cold autumn day, she finds herself grappling with even the simplest household tasks, as the cold seeps into her bones, making everything a struggle. By the end of the day, every part of her body had become ice cold.

- In her longing for affection and warmth, she has no choice but to seek warmth from Muchisute. This was their first cuddling sesh~

-Just imagine a cold-to-touch Midori, propping herself on Muchisute’s lap, one arm around his waist, the other hand draped on the crook of his neck, pressing her entire body onto him, just attempting to catch whatever warmth she can get…

-Why would she wanna come near him doesn’t he smell like a rotting corpse HC that she’s become noseblind to his smelly ass at this point

- This is when she finally gives in, this is when her Stockholm syndrome begins to settle in as well. This is also when Muchisute realizes he’s finally gotten what he wanted; power and control.

[hitomisuzuya]

SUZU!!! I wanna say that your writing is so NGHH my go-to scaraspice writers 10/10 Can I request balladeer Scara (Like in the official Genshin universe when he's still in the Fatui) breeding us till he's all sweaty and panting? Like they're trying to see if he can actually produce offspring so they just fuck till they find out one day You're amazing, Suzu. Remember to take breaks and care for yourself! Have a great day/night!! <3

fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. breeding kink. degradation. multiple creampie. feral!scaramouche.

fatui scara has that extra mmm😳 everyone, feel free to listen to animal by magnolia park while reading. and thank you🥺 i am actually terrified of you all losing interest 😅

scaramouche is a man hell bent on one mission. and one mission only.

to fuck a baby inside of you.

he never even gave a shred of thought to such a weak, human need. until he met you. now the thought consumed him. breeding a baby inside of you would be the biggest fuck you to his..creator. abandoned at birth for crying, thought to be inadequate.

it would scream: look at what i did! he could kill two birds with one stone. giving his mother the middle finger, all while taking care of you and fucking you so good until you were dumb and drooling, his cum dripping from your cunt.

how that for inadequacy?!

he wasn't sure how many times his cock ribboned cum inside of you. panting and breathless, he would just reposition you and stuff his cock back inside of you.

flipping you over, he pulled your hips up and smacked your ass before bullying his cock back inside of you from behind. "i promise i'll fucking show her," he groaned, bottoming out with a languid stroke that made your finger nails claw into the sheets, "i'll fuck you so full, your pretty cunt won't be able to hold it all."

his cock made unholy noises squelching in and out of you. you buried your face in the pillows, pushing back against his cock as drool soaked onto the pillow. you'd been stuck in the same blissful cycle for what felt like hours.

your cervix was bound to be bruised, he is fucking you that keep. but you didn't care. the feeling of him devouring you felt too good. he more than made sure you were cumming hard on his cock before filling you. rinse and repeat.

"my lord, please! fuck me harder!" you cried out, breathless from your next orgasm already knotting intensely inside of you. "i can barely breathe!" you managed behind your moans. your overstimulated walls clutched like a glove around his cock.

scaramouche laughed drunkenly hearing you cry out his rightful title as lord. it made his cock pulse harder between your gummy walls. "shh, it's okay, kitten," he purred, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head up.

outside his tent, he was pretty sure his subordinates could hear how good he was fucking you.

you mewled as your walls squeezed tighter on his cock from the rough treatment. his tongue flicked out along the shell of your ear. "you just keep crying for me like a whore while i fuck you fuller," his hips snapped into yours with a vigor that wasn't going to fade.

his body shuddered in pleasure, wishing he could reach down and caress your stomach, feeling the deep buldge of his cock. he has to be thorough so your belly will swell with child.

he drooled at the thought, smacking his hand across your hair. his bangs clung sweaty to his forehead as he pumped his cock inside of you. his body was burning with the ache to cum inside of you more. "i'll fucking knock you up like i promised. make you my wife. how does that sound, slut?" he moaned, pinching and playing with one of your nipples.

he couldn't believe you and your pretty pussy were tempting him to something as human as marriage. but he never felt so sure of something in his life. he is so fucking in love in hurt. it was almost disgusting to him.

you only moaned louder. "please! please, that's what i want. so so much..." you babbled, reaching down to rub your clit to show how badly you want those things. how badly you want him.

your fierce declaration made his cock spurt cum inside of you, a satisfied groan sounding from him as he curved your back down. he groped around on your stomach, pushing on the buldge.

your orgasm jolted through you, tearing a near scream of pleasure from your throat. your body felt limp, your walls fluttering around his cock as he fucked his cum relentlessly up inside of you. he batted your hand away from your clit.

he delivered a soothing pinch before circling his thumb around the swollen bud. pulling out half way, your toes curled as he slowly pushed himself back in. "another. it isn't enough," he hissed, hastily pulling out and rolling you over onto your back.

you were trembling, and exhausted. lost in a haze of fucked out bliss. you nodded, barely able to sit up and place a few, submissive licks on his mouth. an action that made his cock harder.

you dedicated yourself to pleasing him with every fiber of his being. because he deserves it. he knew he deserved it. that much was evident as he smirked down at you.

rest assured he will have fucked you full five more times before you took that first pregnancy test.

[fanofstuff01]

HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

[liaarxse]

how would the tr boys react when their s/o is the funniest person ever? like they could crack anyone up with just saying something and their humor is peak humor?

This is unbelievable...

Characters: Haruki (Pah-chin) Hayashida, Keisuke Baji, Shinichiro Sano

Warnings: None, crack if you lack cocaine

A/n: My type of humor frfr. I had a blast writing this HAHAHA

Also, can I add how insane some TR fangirls are? Like, I love my man too, but chill out, he is a fictional character, he doesn't belong to anyone. It's all fun and games until they become toxic

— Haruki (Pah-chin) Hayashida

If you don't like Pah-chin, leave

It's literally one of my top favorite characters

Anyway

Y'all were out, roaming around the city while Pah Is walking his dog, Pochi

Pochi >>>>

You were just blabbering about all kinds of shit

Toman shit, school shit, hobby shit

Shit shit

When, all of a sudden, a pregnant couple walked out of a store just a few feet away from you

Pah didn't think anything about it, probably didn't even notice them

But you?

OH YOU

You noticed A LOT more

"Y'know..." You started. "There is something about my unholy mind that when I see a guy and a girl walking by and they're a couple, and the girl is pregnant, I'm like... was it good?"

Pah was FLABBERGASTED

You? You were laughing your ass of on the middle of the side walk

Both Pah and Pochi looked at you like-

This bitch good?

"Like, OH YOU'VE BEEN RAW DOGGING IT ALL NIGHT HUH—"

"Y/n–"

"OkAY–"

"Y/n sto–"

"You've been RIDING IT" "MHMMM"

"Y/n–"

"GET THAT DICK–"

Pah elbowed you right in the stomach

And you just continued LAUGHING

Thank God the couple didn't hear you

Sweet potatoes and honey pie

This bitch mental

But you know who else is mental?

This mf in front of you, who out of nowhere starting wheezing

Like?

Are y'all not?

Embarrassed?

APPARENTLY NOT

You just started wheezing and screaming into thin air

Nobody, but you knows why

Like, even the dog is embarrassed

Stupid

Pochi had enough of your shenanigans that when Pah's hold on the leash weakend, Pochi made a RUN FOR IT

Boy just ZOOMED into space

And when I tell you

That dog is fast as a motherfucker

You and Pah? Your asses are dragging on the fucking floor

You couldn't catch Pochi even if you wanted to

Thank GOD Baji appeared from thin air and caught Pochi and you got him back

What?

Y'all seeing ghosts now?

— Keisuke Baji

Samara entered the chat

Somebody call ghost busters

Kidding, kidding

It was like, 2am and Baji was, obviously, sleeping

You?

Sleep is for the weak

So you called your sleeping boy to say something important

"Y/n. It's 2 fucking am—"

"Babe if I was a bee do you know what sound I'd make?"

"...what?"

"I wouldn't make a 'bzzzing' sound, I'd make a 'puhtk, puhtk, puhtk.'

Y/n what the fuck

You mental ass

But you could hear his muffled laughing

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like. Bzz is boring, ya know? Puhtk-ing is wayyyy better. Like, imagine if I flew over your head. You wouldn't hear bz bz bz, but like, puhtk, puhtk, puhtk. Like a small horse with wings."

"...wh—"

He burst out laughing

Bruh

It ain't even funny

Maybe he was too sleep drunk to comprehend the situation

And you were too drunk to realize what you was saying

"Don't laugh! It's a perfectly reasonable theory that if I were to become a bee, I'd be 'tuguduking' like a horse."

Suddenly the other line went quiet

Like

Dead quiet

...

Wait

Shit

"Baji?"

He suffocated

Great job, Y/n

You ass

— Shinichiro Sano

Y'all smell that?

Smells like reincarnation to me

Anywhoooooo

You were out with Shinichiro

It was raining but who cares?

Pneumonia?

What's her snapchat?

@Pneu_yomom_nia

SKSKSKSK

You were just talking to Shinichiro when all of a sudden

"What's the feeling of being named after a bone, Shin?"

"Don't say that."

"Why, Shinbony?"

"...SHIN WHAT—"

LMAOAOAOA

Shinbony-kuuuuun 🤪

"Or like, SHINaningans."

"Y/n I swear to GOD."

"Don't, you'll go back again."

"Wha–"

Yo ass went silent

For like

2 minutes

What?

Writer Lia here, it was 2.69 seconds, my mistake

"Shini, shini yay, shini yay, shini yam-"

"Are you fucking joking?"

"SWALLA-LA-LA"

"Stop."

"SWALLA-LA-LA? SWALLA-LA-LA"

Y/n what kind of cocaine did your ass inhale?

And from where

The nose, the mouth, she bellybutton, yo fucking BOOTYHOLE ??

Cuz your ass cannot COMPETE with the shit that is coming out of YO MOUTH

I'm hilarious

I mean, Shin thinks you're hilarious, not me !!!

(Fangirls don't kill me)

Like

You both got home after like, 10 minutes

The bitch dropped the second y'all entered the house

That's because he didn't accept pneumonias snapchat friend request

[creune]

Long time no ramble, huh

I'm back by unpopular demand and with exactly zero brainpower

And hell, if anyone would have told me how much petty shit you have to do when creating a card game I probably don't try to do that for class

Okay, that's a lie, I absolutely would have

But still

My entire weekend is going to be an unbalanced and insane amounts of sprite making (for my partner's game), card art creation for my own game, art for an unrelated class and studying like crazy for the tests next week

It doesn't sound that bad until you realize I have, only for myself, over sixty images to create

Realistically, not doing all of them this weekend

But you can bet your ass I will try anyway, while trying to understand the difference between different operating system generations, AI search tech and other stuff like that

I'm creating my own hell, as usual

And most likely for nothing, as the unrelated project is to be submitted to teachers who don't seem to grasp the concept of a manual

Or coding for that matter

But that aside, it's actually the chillest semester I've had so far

Lots of projects, few tests, only one 8am class

I know hell is coming but I'm enjoying the peace while it lasts

In other news, I've upgraded into a DM. So far I've had two players:

My partner, chronic minmaxer, troll of the century, theater kid of gay proportions, smartest and dumbest player at the exact same second, with a knack for evil characters and one shotting bosses

And a dude who we don't even know the actual name of (a friend of a dormmate that never showed up so we legit just don't even know the guy at all) who knows the recipe for explosives by heart and tried to calculate the ph level of magic acid and wrote himself out of the roleplay part of the adventure entirely. Also is never free so no session for a while now

It's been an experience, in ways I wouldn't have expected

In both a "please stop sniffing dust" way and in a way of learning to be more social on my end, even if sometimes that has to include sentences as "no, you can't have a carpet bomb as a lvl2 character" or "if you throw a decapitated head at a [insert non-violent type npc here], they won't wanna talk to you"

I love the chaos

I've also had some other stuff creep up on me that reset some progress I made in my behaviors and just becoming less depressed, but I managed to overcome it with the help of my partner. At least mostly. But hey, could be worse. Could have entirely destroyed myself. That would have sucked

I have a lot of things I wanna do and for all of that I need myself so, can't afford to lose me

For example, the goddamn card game that is hell incarnate

It's the unholy abomination child of yugioh with inscription, getting fucked sideways by slay the spire

I'm both excited to actually make it and hate everything about it

I have way too many shit going on as usual and I'm 100% sure not a single other soul will care but

It's a game I wanna make so I'll make it, even if for myself (for class, I am making a demo version cause there's no way in hell I make the whole thing in 4-5 weeks)

Only issue is that writing had to be sidelined again

But oh well

Passing my classes is a bit more important

And when I write, I can actually say I'm proud of what I'm doing

I am happy with my work on all fronts

Which is new and weird but also just

It's so freaking great

I can fuckin smile when I make my silly lil stories or cards or whatever

Life's good y'all

It really gets good

And I'm so damn happy it does

It's so fun

It's exciting

It's awesome

Yeah that's it

I just wanted to make a lil update on life

Cause I'm actually feeling happy consistently

And I felt like sharing that

[amegeddon]

Giving Characters The Worst Nicknames Possible: A Guide

I asked my friend Oreo if I should do this and they said yes so this exists now YIPPEEEEEE

SO. You have a character you like (or despise, can be either or tbh) and you want to give them a nickname, but not something cute like "the silly" or "lil goober", no. You want to give them a nickname like "Cabbage Boy" or "Cardy G", or something that, if they heard you call them that, they'd probably kill you. Lucky for you I'm here to help you with this 👍

PART 1: Choosing a Character

First up you need a character, for this I'm going to be using Cardan Greenbriar from TFOTA (+ some other characters as examples for other things) because he's stupid and also perfect for this, but you can use just about anyone since the only limit for this is your own imagination.

PART 2: Clinically Asses the Character

Now that you've chosen your character, you want to do a little deep dive on basically everything about them. What do they look like? Are they stupid? Silly? Stinky? Analyse them like you're looking at them under a microscope to figure out the parts of them. You can also write down anything you think is important if you want to, but it's not nessecary.

PART 3: Think of Stuff That'd Fit Them

So, now that you know everything you need to know about your character of choice, it's time to get thinking. Some characters have really clear look-alikes like Hiyori from Ensemble Stars, as proven in the image below

While others have things in their personality or name that can be used. For example, Cardan is incredibly stupid and really good at falling down stairs, so names like "idiot fae" and "professional stair faller-downerer" would work and can be used interchangeably, but there's one name that is just so bad it works perfectly...

PART 4: Finalising the Shitty Nickname

There can be a lot of nicknames in your head that'd all work perfectly and yes, you can use multiple nicknames, nobody is stopping you. But sometimes there's always that one nickname that outshines the rest... In the case of Cardan, it's "Cardy G", an unholy hybrid of his name and Cardi B. It's terrible and stupid and so utterly perfect for him.

PART 5: The Timeframe

Now, if you can't think of the perfect nickname right away that's completely normal, these things can take time. Hell, Cardy G only came to me a few months ago when I'd known of TFOTA and Cardan since 2021 (I had to trawl through so many dms to remember when I read it bc it feels like it wasn't too long ago that I did read it... damn those books were good). If it takes you a while to come up with a nickname don't worry too much, it will come to you eventually, and maybe it won't, the brain's a mysterious thing. But as long as you're subconsciously thinking about it it'll probably be doing its best trying to work smth out.

THE FINAL PART: part final

So, now you know how to make a terrible nickname for a character, congrats, I guess? This works just as well for OCs as it does for characters in media and stuff btw, I've got some real stupid character nicknames bc of it.

[chiwhorei]

green scrunchies

pairing: dom!k. ukai x sub!fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, spanking, smoking, daddy kink, dom/ sub dynamics, brat taming, subspace, dirty talk, degradation, age gap(reader is 22ish and ukai is 26ish) spitting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, a little dumification, public nudity (kinda), unprotected sex, tattoos (there’s a tattoo in a really unholy place), this is just filth okay

a/n: i have been sitting on the bulk of this piece for a fucking month and am honestly so surprised i finished it. this was inspired by a picture i saw of a really naughty tattoo and my mind want crazy and vomited on to a google doc.

hymn: nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

“but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations.”

Ukai Keishin is a gentle man. The team of highschoolers he coaches, his friends, hell, even his mother would beg to differ. But they were not privy to the Keishin you know. The man that serenades you with Elvis Presley while cleaning up after closing the store, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a clumsy slow dance as his gravelly voice croons into your ear. 

He’s entrancing. Hypnotizing you, almost two years ago now, in the most tender pursuit possible, so softly you were unaware of falling deeply in love with him until you had already tipped completely over. Turning to an ink pen and scraps of receipt paper to flesh out the feelings he worried would not sound perfect when they hit your ears. To this day, you’re not entirely sure if he meant to leave the pages to his extemporaneous romance novel for you to find on purpose, but you have your suspicions.

You were in your second year of college when you met Keishin, only 20 years old at the time and clueless to any world outside of studying frantically from one exam to the next. Chasing after a degree you could pursue your dreams with and getting tattoos that would piss your parents off, you crashed into him, literally. 

While walking to class with practiced steps and flipping through a small stack of notecards, you frantically try to accomplish last minute cramming and making it to class promptly at the same time. With one final attempt to understand the scribbles in front of you, you take a sharp turn into a brick wall. A flurry of white papers thrown into the air and falling back down like snow.

It happened in a minute, a minute that held sixty of the longest seconds to ever pass; from the moment you smack your nose into his cemented chest to the moment he saves your head from kissing the ground below. “You need to watch where you’re going, kid.” He says with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. It all happened in that single minute, your soul escaping and crawling into his jacket pocket without even realizing. It’s been there ever since, for safekeeping, of course.

He’s perfect in every way. But just as he is soft and loving, Ukai is not one to take shit. Especially when his sweet, shy baby girl is being a raging brat. It’s like any normal fall afternoon, slightly chilly and crisp on your walk from class. The air is biting at your skin, but the temperature is not what sends a piercing shiver down your spine. You know that as soon as you get home, Ukai Keishin is going to ruin you. 

“What are you doing here, princess?” Your presence is made known with a soft ding from the bell above the door, but Ukai doesn't look up from his magazine when acknowledging you. 

“I live upstairs?” Your tone is light and playful. You decide to test the waters, wondering how much Keishin will let slide today.

“Don’t be dense, little one.” He graces you with his eye contact for the first time, “I know you have a Biology lecture on Friday afternoons. So, why is that cute little ass here instead of on campus?” His lips are pulled tightly in a thin line and he rakes his eyes down your body. You’re wearing a short pleated skirt and a baggie pull-over. Exactly what he picked out for you this morning. Well, almost exactly. He was already opening up the store by the time you woke up, so the clothes were placed neatly on his side of the bed. What he didn’t pick out though, were the stockings currently brandishing your mid thigh, cutting off the supple skin with the soft, black cotton. 

“Oh! My professor cancelled lecture today so I came home early to have lunch with my loving boyfriend.” You smile sweetly, dropping your backpack and rounding the corner of the counter he is sat at. Ukai hums softly- dismissively- and lights a cigarette, his eyes don’t give away any emotion, so you are left hanging off the end of the burning cherry. Has he caught on yet? Maybe the thigh-highs would be enough to distract from your real surprise. 

Before you can ruminate on the thought, a wide, kind smile spreads across his face. If you didn’t know any better, this smile would be comforting. Your boyfriend pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat. You adjust yourself to fit snugly and lean into Keishin’s chest. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and takes a drag from his cigarette. Customers trickle in slowly, and you stand a few times to ring up their purchases, always the dutiful girlfriend. Keishin watches you with adoration in between paging through a magazine, everything you did was so perfect, even if it’s just scanning a few groceries. Such a good girl you are. 

It’s not until you sit back down, and he adjusts your hips to settle back into him that he is made aware of the game you’re trying to play. And he is pissed.

“Princess, did you not like the clothes I picked out for you this morning?” He has fully caught on to you at this point, and you both know it, but he isn’t going to show you his hand quite yet. 

“Of course I did, Daddy.” You bury your burning cheek into his neck, letting the familiar smell of cologne and campfires calm your clambering heartbeat. 

“I see, then why are you wearing these…” Keishin’s voice trails off and pulls at the material of the thigh-highs, snapping it against your skin.  

“Actually,” he interrupts, “I have a more important question. But I need you to be a good girl and answer honestly.” Keishin whispers into the shell of your ear and nods a goodbye to the elderly man leaving the store. You two were alone now, the promise of other customers wandering in diminishing quickly with the time of day. 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy.” You try to coat your words in velvet as best as you can, but Keishin scoffs, clearly unamused. 

“That’s rich, princess. Now tell me, did you go to campus this morning without panties on?” You knew the question he was going to pose, you could have even saved him the breath. You knew you were going to get caught, I mean, that is why you did it. But now, faced with having to atone for your sins, the confidence in your original actions was melting away. 

“I forgot to put panties on this morning, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You try to pout in the sweetest way possible, but Keishin knows. You’re lying through your teeth.

“Tsk, you forgot. How could you forget if I laid them right on top of your skirt this morning?” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a damning article. As he moves the exhibit into evidence, light pink thong hanging off of fingers, you resolve that your little game was over long before you even tried to start. All you can do now is wait with baited breath and flushed cheeks for his next move. 

“Stand up princess.” Ukai grabs onto your hip bones and lifts you upward. He spins you around to face him and perches his elbows on his knees. “Show me what’s mine baby girl.” His request, his demand, rolls off the tongue like icicles. You know what he means, but still stare back dumbly, mouth wide at what he was insinuating.

“You know I don’t like repeating myself, little girl.” His words stir inside you. If he sees how wet you’re getting, you’re done for. There’s no escaping this moment though. You take a deep breath in a feeble fight against the suffocating feeling in your chest, and lift up the end of your short, black skirt so he can see you. All of you.

Your precious, sumptuous thighs now in his view. He studies the lines of the tattoos not covered with your stockings. Beautiful floral designs in delicate black ink. Keishin thinks the work you get done is always so beautiful. Every addition befitting you perfectly. He loves tracing the pads of his fingers over the art in softer moments. This moment though, was not soft, and the tattoos on your thighs were not the subject of Ukai’s attention. 

He flicks his eyes up to meet yours briefly, and trails down from your quivering bottom lip, to your delicate, freckled collarbones peering sweetly from your large sweater. He drags his darkening gaze down further, cherishing every inch until he reaches your hips. Nestled in between the apex of your thighs, in small, dainty writing lays his prize.

“My Daddy Will Kill You.”

No matter what you did, he would always be there, snugly under the second layer of skin. When his fingers weren’t intertwined in yours, when he couldn’t have a protective hand in your back pocket. Whenever he was away with his team for tournaments or just when you were in class. He was always on you.

“Such a gorgeous little cunt you have.” He leans back in his seat, watching you fidget under his stare, “Whose cunt is this, baby? Is it your classmates? Is it your professors?” You bow your head in shame at Ukai’s insinuation, you know that going to class with a bare ass and a short skirt was going to get you in trouble. How could you resist though, when the punishment always feels so good.

“You’ve been acting like a petulant brat recently. I’ve been letting things slide because I know how stressful your senior year of college has been.” His tone is exasperated, but his eyes are calm, level, dark, “I can’t ignore this, you know that right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“Your class was cancelled. So that means we get to start the weekend early.” He pulls your hands from your skirt, letting it fall back into place and holds both of your hands in one of his much larger ones. “Go upstairs and sit on the bed. I want you in just your skirt and those cute little tights you were so keen on wearing. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 

“But Daddy…” you really did like to test your luck sometimes, but the look he gives you, slightly shocked and more than lightly infuriated, was enough to make you hurry to the back and up the stairs to your shared apartment. You kick your sneakers off at the door and head straight to the bedroom. You pull the sweater over your head and unclasp your bra. Usually Keishin likes to do that step for you, savoring the way you shiver as he brushes the straps off of your shoulders, but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations. 

You tremble like a puppy as you wait for Ukai and almost jump out of your own skin when you hear the front door creek open. Usually you are met with a bellowing voice upon his entry, walking through the door with a hearty, “Honey, I’m home!” even if you had only walked in a few steps ahead. Now, all you can do is wait as he mulls about the apartment with lackadaisical intent and a deafening silence. After a few agonizing minutes and feeling like he made his point, Ukai finally appears in the doorway, arms folded and pressed tightly to his hard chest with a categorically sadistic smile on his face.

“So, you do know how to follow directions?” You gulp loudly and nod your head, but quickly correct yourself. If you don’t use your words you’ll make things worse for yourself. “Yes, Daddy. I know how to follow directions.” It’s not a lie, obviously you are aware of his rules, you just prefer breaking them. Your response is small compared to the loud, sarcastic laugh falling from his throat. Ukai steps towards you slowly. 

“You are such a little tease, I came up to kiss you goodbye this morning and found these still sitting on the bed.” He pulls the thong out of his pocket again and drops the lace into your lap. “You left them there because you wanted me to find them. You wanted me to know you were sitting in class with a bare cunt.” There’s no use trying to find an excuse to push past your locked jaw, because he’s not really asking a question. 

“I left them on purpose, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Your mea culpa is underwhelming to say the least, and you both know it. You may be pleading guilty to all charges, but you don’t seem eager for absolution. 

“You are such a little attention whore. My timid, darling girl has been acting like an insolent slut recently. What am I going to do with you?” His voice sounds questioning, but unmistakingly rhetorical. He’s known what he was going to do to you from the moment he spotted your panties weighing the bed down this morning.

“Turn around baby.” Ukai unbuckles his belt, and you turn away from him, tucking your legs to sit upright. He gathers your long h/c hair from where it was settled around your face and meticulously braids it to lay flat on your back, attaching the green scrunchy from his wrist to the bottom. 

Just like a calling card, Keishin always had a scrunchy of yours around his wrist. Whenever you are hunched over the kitchen table in the middle of writing a paper, he pulls your hair behind you and fastens it into a bun, careful to keep it loose so as to not invite a headache, and kisses the crown of your head. Regardless of where you are: shopping, date night, visiting him at practice, if he notices your hair becoming annoying he will slip it from your neck and twist it into the green scrunchy.

And when you are about to be punished, Ukai pulls your hair into a neat, low braid.

You feel him run his hands from your shoulders to your wrists, pulling them gently behind your back. He presses your palms together and gives them a squeeze so you know to keep them together. Ukai pulls off his shirt, and  frees his undone belt from his jeans, folding it in half and running the cool leather up your thigh. He swats softly at your skin, just enough to make you flinch. 

Ukai tosses the belt to the ground, deciding he would rather you feel the sting of his palm, and sits down next to you on the bed. You face him with your hands still laced together behind you and let him position you to lay across his lap. The side of your face and your shoulders lay flush against the bed and your ass is raised up above his jean-clad thighs. 

“You know the rules, right my love?”

“Yes, Daddy. If I lose count you have to start over.”

“There’s my smart girl. You look so beautiful like this.” He lands a smack on your right cheek, actions greatly contrasting his soft, almost taunting tone. “It’s such a shame you’ve been acting like such a whore.” 

He delivers slap after slap on your bruising ass and you count every one out to him, briefly considering what would happen if you stopped counting, but you know that your punishment is already going to be harsh enough. You’re a masochist, yes, but not an idiot. 

“Why do you always seem to be on your best behavior when I have you over my knee, darling?” Ukai connects his palm with your tender flesh again. “How many was that baby?” 

“Fifteen, Daddy.” You speak in an even tone, if your boyfriend catches on to how much more you like this than he already knows, you’re, quite literally, fucked. 

“You really know how to play me, baby. I’m always wrapped around your little finger.” He starts to knead your ass cheek with his large hand, skimming the tips of his digits against your wanton cunt. He’s testing you, wanting to see if you’ll start squirming or unclasp your hands from their position behind your back, but you hold steady.

“You leave me naughty little surprises. I had you on my mind all day, thinking about this naked little pussy walking around campus. One tiny slip and you would have shown everyone what’s mine.” Another sharp swat to your butt reverberates through the room and you can barely mumble out your counted response. 

“But that’s what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted everyone to see this slutty pussy of yours didn’t you?” Whether that was the truth or not doesn't actually matter, you know not to make an excuse. You are just meant to count and thank. 

“You need to stop squirming, princess, or you’re going to royally piss me off.” Ukai continues his relentless pace, two thick fingers pistoning deep in your dripping pussy. This was one of Ukai’s favorite games, finger-fucking you to the point of the bed under you slamming into the wall. Your job was to keep completely still. One arch of your back or escaped moan and he would land a sharp slap to your puffy, untended clit. 

He’s actually being quite generous despite the circumstances. Usually, you would be propped on your hands and knees, but Ukai has laid you flat on your back with one leg tossed over his broad shoulder. The position, while easier to keep your body still, does mean that Ukai’s piercing, hungry gaze has you pinned like prey under him. The completely pornografic sounds of his fingers are making your head spin. The fact that he’s been hammering his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot for an hour, is starting to make your mind foggy, all thoughts are starting to slip from your brain and your boyfriend can tell.

“God, baby, I love making you absolutely stupid for me. I bet all you can think about is my cock filling this little cunt up, huh?” His words are sneering, taunting. Your response is a babbled agreement and plea for his cock, and the sight of you so completely fucked out makes the bulge in his jeans strain even further. The feeling of his fingers in your squelching pussy is dulling all other senses, so when he pulls the digits away, you can’t help the cry that rips from the back of your throat. 

“Don’t worry, precious girl, I’m going to give you what you want. What you’re fucking desperate for.” Ukai pushes himself from the bed and removes his jeans and boxers, and you watch as his thick cock springs free to slap against his abdomen. The sound makes you mewl, your cunt clenching in anticipation. 

As Ukai crawls back onto your shared bed, his head dips down in between your legs. He licks, flat and languid across your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue with a feral groan.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I- I need you. Wa- want to be your good girl.” You find your words as best as you can to beg for him, the sweet cadence of your voice and the way your weak arms reach out for his messy bleached hair signals to him that you’ve fallen completely into a foggy, submissive haze. You tug lightly at the tresses and the impressive self-control he has kept up thus far snaps like plywood under a heavy boot. 

Ukai takes one more deep, hungry lick at your soaking pussy and sits up, pushing your legs further apart, digging his nails into the soft skin under your knees. 

“Open your mouth, Princess.” You are quick to comply with his request, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. You hear the sound of him spitting, his saliva and your arousal coats the thickest plane of your tongue, but connecting one thought to the next becomes impossible as Ukai pushes his thick cock into you at the same time.

“Jesus Christ, no matter how much time I take to get you ready you’re still so tight. God, you make it really hard to stay mad at you.” His hands keep your legs pressed up to your chest, pushing his thick cock into you at an agonizingly lazy pace. Ukai was right, it didn’t matter that he had finger-fucked you into the mattress for an hour, taking him was a tight fit every time. As he buries himself in you, the intoxicating burn of being so full takes all of the air out of your chest. His thick cock stretches you so far, you swear he can feel your own heartbeat within the walls of your tiny cunt. He’s barely halfway into you and you can’t help but constrict, the tinny flavor of your orgasm crawling up from your spine to your mouth. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you cum already.” Ukai snickered sadistically, thumb brushing across your tattoo, the dirty secret you shared, right over where you need his fingers most. He wasn’t going to touch your deprived clit yet, and hoping for him to do so was a waste of energy. 

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise, I’ll be good.” Your tears are rolling down the side of your face, wetting the sheet next to you. 

“You’re a pathetic mess and I’m not even all the way in you yet. I would save the tears if I were you, babydoll.” You try to compose yourself, but Ukai’s words of dismissive degradation give your whimpers more body, sobbing and babbling as his cock bottoms out. 

You can feel every inch of him, hard and thick and so so full inside of you. Ukai pulls out of you completely, his soaking tip rubbing on your labia before slamming back in to the hilt. His pace becomes brutal with every thrust, original slow pace completely unknown to you now. There’s no way you're going to be able to stand properly after this. 

“Daddy, please. Please let me cum. Need to cum, Daddy. Need to be your good girl.” A series of calls for your daddy and prayerful begs are the only things you know at this point, drool and tears covering your face.

“You know what, Princess? I bet I could make you cum with just one touch to that little clit.” Ukai takes one hand off of your thigh and hovers over where you have needed him since you woke up this morning. “If I’m right, I’ll make you cum again. If I’m wrong, you’re not gonna cum at all.”

You can feel the warmth of his finger looming over the neglected bud, the anticipation is overwhelming and cruel, but all worth it as soon as he pushes the rough pad of his thumb down. Ukai presses a single, taught circle into your clit and the coil wound tightly in your stomach snaps with incredible force. You know there is a scream that rips from your dry mouth, but you can’t hear it with the blood rushing through your ears. Ukai works you through your first orgasm, stilling his thrusts as until you come floating back down.

“I know this slutty little cunt better than the back of my hand. Now, my precious little thing,” You watch as Ukai hooks your limp legs over his shoulders, lining his throbbing cock back to your slopping entrance. “Let’s do that a couple more times.”

“Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

You feel your senses coming back to you slowly, with every delicate touch Keishin glides over your skin. He pulls you back to reality with sweet touches and the deep, gravely sound of his voice. After several meticulous moments and even more words of praise, Kei delivers a delicate kiss to your forehead and carries you to the shower. You take a deep, relaxed sigh as he massages your aching muscles under the hot water. After drying your exhausted body with a fluffy towel, Keishin helps you into a comfy pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts. 

“Take my hand. Take my whole heart too.” Your boyfriend’s broad arms wrap around your waist, hands finding purchase under the orange sweatshirt currently drowning your form, and you melt into his chest. “Because I can’t help, falling in love with you.” You turn around in his arms to steal a kiss, but as your lips attach to his a small laugh bubbles up from your stomach. 

“What are you giggling at?” Keishin eyes you curiously, and you start laughing even harder.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about the bloody nose you gave me when we first met.” You cackle at the memory and feel Keishin take an exasperated but amused sigh, joining your laughter with his own.

“First of all, Princess, you ran into me.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[jarofstyles]

yes yes! please continue the CEOrry! SO GOOD

Of course 😎

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——-

Harry never imagined himself in a situation like this.

Pining after women wasn’t something he did often. They usually threw themselves at him and he either had his fun for the night, or rejected them. He didn’t think too much of their feelings, or their interests. He didnt hang on to their words as they spoke and write notes into his personal journal about things she likes and dislikes.

The list so far?

Likes:

-orange cats

-caramel coffee

-the summer rain smell

-the colors pink and yellow

-quesadillas

-crochet tote bags

-silk eye masks

-thrift stores (especially with shop cats)

Dislikes:

-chocolate orange flavor combination

-overcast days

-bowler hats

-the mailman (unknown reason)

-popcorn kernels

-in n’ out (bad experience, apparently.

She was overtaking his own personal life. Being his assistant, of course she would be more prompt to being deeper than more employees. But he couldn’t help but pick out red ties more often because she complimented him in the color. She had gotten him a refrigerator magnet in Ocean City when she went for a girls weekend, and it was the sole magnet in the small water fridge in his office. She left traces of herself in his life that he couldn’t possibly ignore.

The most invasive and troublesome being his sex life.

He was getting to the point where he couldn’t get off without thinking about her. About her voice, her touch, the smell. His tiny, filthy and shameful snippets of when she leaned on his desk and he had caught a nice glimpse of breast, or the couple times she had bent over and given him an eyeful of her tiny panties and ass… how her dress would cling to her or the time she had accidentally soaked her white shirt with her water bottle and given him a view of her braless chest by accident…

Yeah. Every time he wrapped his hand around the thick shaft of his cock, it was a fantasy of her. The best orgasms so far in his life, only to be rudely awoken by the fact it was all fantasy. So what the fuck was it going to be like if he got his hands on her?

Y/N, unbeknownst to him was in the same boat. Smitten with his snarky comments, his thoughtfulness not many saw, and god, his beautiful face. It wasn’t lost on her that his gentleness was only to her. She had seen him yell too many times at other people and as soon as she would walk in, his tone would soften when directed at her. She got away with a lot more than others did and it did make people… talk.

They talked all about how she must have slept her way into the job. Placed bets on how long it would take her to get fired for not dropping to her knees fast enough. And while it wasn’t everyone, she did overhear it enough to make her upset. Hell, she wished she was getting dicked down by her boss, bur she wasn’t! And they still had all of the nerve to say it just because she had managed to stick around longer than the others. Understandable, Burt hurtful.

Harry was stuck, really. He knew that he either had to ignore it or make a move. But still, he was unclear about if she was actually into him- or if it was just wishful thinking. She was so kind to everyone, and he really wasn’t warm and fuzzy. His feelings were probably a bit more obvious, he thinks, and she hasn’t made a move. Was it because there was no reciprocation, or because they were at work?

He would need to figure it out.

“Y/N?” He called out to her desk which was outside of his. Another thing that had changed was his door staying open during the day more often. He liked to hear if anyone came up and was flirting with her, if he was being totally honest with himself. He had caught it a few times and that unholy possessiveness reared it’s ugly head. Plus, it made it easier to call to her.

Y/N perked up, standing up and striding towards his door. Upon his instruction of closing the door and coming closer, she did. Her mind went to mush though, because he looked…. So fucking good. With his hair slightly messed up for once, his white button up a bit tighter than normal around his biceps… she felt weak and dazed simply looking at him. His powerful aura was so, so sexy.

“I need help with a project after hours.” He was winging it. Completely and utterly winging it. “I’m redoing my den area in my home… and I’d like you to help me do it. You’ve got design experience, yes?” He crossed his arms, trying to not stare too hard at anything other than her face. It was hard.

“Oh- I’m, yes? But I’m not too good, I just make those Pinterest boards like I showed you? I was just planning and-“

“Good. I liked when you showed me them. My home is very boring. Sterile. And I would like some more… character.” In reality, it was just going to make him go insane even more at home. Seeing her in his living space. Things she picks out in his living room. It was so stupidly dangerous for their professional relationship considering how close Harry was to jumping her bones, but he wanted time away from the office to see if he was imagining her flirtations.

She was overwhelmed by the offer, but couldn’t say no. Not when it gave her an excuse to see him… in potentially casual clothes, and feeding her nosy imagination for his house. Plus, she loved to decorate. What could go wrong?

“O-okay, sure. When would you like me to be doing this?” Her voice raised in pitch, showing her nerves slightly. Adorable. He loved getting reactions out of her.

“Some hours during the weekends. You will be compensated and fed, of course. And I will be with you. We will do the shopping wherever you see fit. But you know me. I am very particular, so I wish to be involved in this process. The most I can be.”

Weekends. Alone with his assistant that he wanted to make his own so badly that he had to clench his fists to avoid grabbing at times. The assistant that had been the main star of his fantasies, the assistant that made his palms sweat and heart race.

He was interested in seeing how it turned out.

[snvw]

𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘. ━━ ❦ caliban, the prince of hell.

𝐀/𝐍— ❦ hi! this is my first caliban imagine in almost over a year n omg it feels so amazin writing for my baby again... hope y’all like this. also, i changed the request just the tiniest bit... there is fluff, but it also got a lil dirty in some parts? sorry, anon! anyways, please reblog, like n share if you enjoyed this lil thing. also, feedback is very much appreciated! thank you for reading.♡

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓— ❦ ANON ASKED; Can I please request a Caliban imagine where the reader (female) is mortal but he’s superrrr whipped for her and calls her “my lady” and keeps saying how much he loves her and is just really sweet to the reader??? Thank you. Xx // also, you may send in a request(s) here.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘— ❦ caliban, the prince of hell, is totally whipped for his girl, you.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆— ❦ caliban x fem!reader.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒— ❦ 18+! slut shaming! fluff n mentions of sexual themes! adult language! & any grammatical mistakes are my own!

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵.

♡࿐ Caliban was in love. No, scratch that. He was so fucking in love, it hurt. The whole ‘love’ thing was new to him, like a foreign language one was just beginning to learn. Once he started feeling this strange emotion, it was like he became a whole new person. In his eyes, he saw himself as a better, new and improved version of himself.

Caliban always thought love to be a weakness, that he didn’t need it or that he felt it wasn’t worth his time. But with you, it was different. It felt different. Because of you, he was in love. Happily so, might I add. The two of you have only been dating for a little less than a year, but unholy Satan, it felt like decades had passed. It was like the two of you knew each other for centuries.

In all honesty, Caliban thought he would’ve been alone for all of eternity, which at the time, he was perfectly content with the thought of that. At least, before you – he was used to bringing whores to his bed chambers every night. Whilst he enjoyed himself most of the time, when he grew bored and had no more desire for said whore any longer – he’d either toss them aside, or kill them.

Although, now was different... All because of you. Speaking of you, Caliban had just finished ordering one of his most trusted followers to bring you to his chambers – and shall there be even a single scratch on you, he’d tear them apart limb by limb and watch with glee as their souls burned in the pits of Hell. “My Lord, as you requested, here is Lady –“

“Yes, yes – Beelzebub, you may go. Now.” Caliban commanded carelessly, looking up to see you stepping around Beelzebub cautiously, your eyes lighting up at the sight of him. Caliban smirked, standing up from the leather chair he was resting on, tossing the book he was reading aside and rushing towards you, wrapping you in his strong arms. Beelzebub bowed respectfully, but not before throwing you a disgusted look on his way out, the large wooden doors slamming shut behind him.

“Caliban,” you greeted, your heartbeat starting to race. You felt like a lovesick fool. “I – I can’t believe..why d-did you...?” you stuttered, craning your neck back to look up at the handsome Prince. “I can’t believe you sent one of the Plague Kings to come and get me,” you gasped, sounding like you were trying to keep that information strictly a secret. “You know I’m not supposed to be down here and what if –“

Caliban smiled down at you, quickly silencing your worried ramblings as he bent his knees down slightly to press his lips against yours, both of his hands reaching up to cup your face, your lips meeting in a frenzied, passionate kiss. You practically whimpered into the kiss, parting your lips as you felt your boyfriends tongue run across your bottom lip, knowing what he sought out for. Once your lips parted, Caliban wasted no time in slipping his warm tongue inside of your mouth, tasting you and groaning at how sweet you tasted, both of his thumbs lovingly stroking each of your warmed cheeks as he kissed you senseless.

“I missed you,” Caliban groaned into the kiss roughly, suggestively grinding his hips into your pelvis. You giggled in response, running your tongue along his, your teeth slightly clashing together with his, but neither of you cared enough to stop. You two could never get enough of each other – ever.

Your hands ran up to tangle themselves into his dirty blond hair, digging your fingernails into his scalp, causing him to hiss in pleasure. “I missed you more,” you breathed, before opening your mouth wider for him, feeling Caliban’s tongue run over the roof of your mouth. Next, he started slowly sucking on your tongue, swirling your tongue around with his, almost choking you in the process with how long his tongue was, but you didn’t care. If you had it your way, you’d never stop kissing him. Fuck, he tasted amazing... like spearmint gum and some sort of sugary sweet, he tasted delicious.

Then, Caliban began to run both of his warm hands down your sides, gripping and squeezing and touching and – fuck. He was so amazing and perfect. You loved him so much, he drove you absolutely mental sometimes. His hands were so big and strong and you were so obsessed with them when they were caressing you, you swear the feeling of his skin on yours was pure euphoria.

“My Lady,” Caliban murmured, trailing his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, kissing it tenderly. “My Lady, my lady, my lady...” Caliban praised, causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies and your pussy to start gushing uncontrollably, knowing how much it drove you wild when he called you his lady, like you were royalty. Which, in his eyes, you were. You were his, always.

Caliban’s lips moved down to your neck, kissing the skin underneath your ear so gently that it barely felt like he was doing anything, while his hands were now firmly massaging and gripping your ass through your tight jeans. “Caliban,” you sighed, growing frustrated, your pussy now starting to clench down on nothing but thin air. You wanted him, you wanted him so badly you thought you’d snap any second.

It’s been days since he last visited you in your bedroom in the Mortal realm, and he fucked you so good and hard that night that the next day, you could barely walk. That night he was absolutely feral, he wasted no time in fucking your brains out, and you could’ve sworn you felt his cock in your guts as he pounded into you from behind that night. Although, that goes without saying that hours before, he was a complete tease. Eating you out for hours without letting you cum, which made you annoyed and crazy and you really thought you’d start crying hysterically if he didn’t quit his teasing then. Luckily – for the both of you – he did, and he – of course – slowly and sensually slid his cock deep inside of you, before fucking you like a good little slut.

Caliban loved you, there was no denying it. He’d do just about anything for you if you asked him, and he could be so sweet and charming, and most of the time so cruel, just the way you liked him to be. But praise Satan, he knew how to fuck you just right, like when to be soft and gentle and affectionate, with a dark twist of being rough and quick and downright sinful. You swore it was a talent only he possessed, which wouldn’t be a total shock since he did live in and helped rule Hell sometimes.

“My Lady,” Caliban sighed, grabbing your attention as you came back down to – well, Hell – and looked back up at him, snapping out of your sexual daydream. “Hmmm?” you questioned, batting your eyelashes up at the scowling Prince. Fuck, he was so pretty. The Prince of Hell smirked down at you, reaching one hand up to gently grasp your chin with long fingers, holding it as he examined your pretty face up closely and rubbed his calloused thumb over your swollen, bottom lip.

“Was my angel daydreaming again?” he chastised, his tone sickly sweet, as if he were talking to a five year old girl. You were always so fucking cute, playing dumb and naïve, but he knew you knew better. And oh, oh – he was teasing you, the bastard. Two can play that game. As expected though, your plans always seemed to backfire on you as you unconsciously started to rub your clothed thighs together desperately, knowing what was about to come.

Fuck the consequences.

So, you played along, praying that he would have mercy on you tonight. “No, my Lord, I’d never disobey –“ Caliban snorted, cutting you off completely as you amused him at your failure of attempting to lie to him. Him, of all people. Caliban chuckled, shaking his head fondly and kissing your lips once more, making you respond instantly as you stood on the tips of your toes, kissing him back eagerly. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck once more, pulling him so close that both your chests were pressed so tightly together, your hearts beating against one another’s as one.

Before speaking, Caliban wrapped you tightly in his arms, interlocking his fingers together behind your back, resting his interlocked hands right above your ass. “My Lady, I thought you learned your lesson the other night,” Caliban spoke in false kindness, leaning down to lightly drag his tongue along the shell of your ear. You hummed quietly, tilting your head slightly to give your boyfriend more access, feeling excitement flow throughout your body. Or, were you just a horny little slut, like your boyfriend said you were?

Caliban paused, taking in a short breath, feeling his cock harden almost unbearably at the thought of punishing you again, just like a couple of nights ago. “Bad girls don’t get to cum unless they tell the truth. And you, my lady – have sinned.”

fin

[starwarsfan2004]

She's my little flower || Chapter 4 (Kylo ren x female reader)

(Hey everyone i hope all of you guys are doing well! There is a slight delay in my writing of HBTAOAS "Held By The Arms Of A Sith" there will be more to come i promise so for now enjoy chapter 4 of She's my little flower, and as always enjoy until then)

It was early in the morning still almost you wore your usual tunnle rat look and a small smile that sometimes painted your face, it suited you straight off the bat you were off to your place where you were assigned to repair and maintain the vent in the supreme leaders quarters, you were as quite as a mouse your footsteps barely making any sound you walked with long strides while thinking what your next plan of action is going to be and ofcourse if he the masked warrior would hover over you like a hawk.

You were a bit shorter than him but still a tall tunnle rat that moves swiftly around the super star destroyer's ventilation systems maintaining any issues given to you, hell youd sometimes make a small pitstop station in the vents yo catch some air or having a small lunch break your totally not braking the hour rules of mid day break time for every soul that works on the ship, snapping out of your thoughts you didnt notice he who towers over behind you were looking through your skull to see what you were up to, you felt a bit unease as you looked over your shoulder to see him looking down at your pretty face well thats what he thinks of you..

Pretty

Smart

Talented

And above all beautiful, he couldnt bare to lose such a flower like you to a filthy worm hell he blushes alot under his mask, if it wasnt his mask you would see the true expressions and emotions he is giving off. The one thing he did notice about you was how fragile you were, he didnt want to put all his wait upon you nor would he dare to hurt you..

You turned over to greet him with a smile, "Do you always creep on people like that?" You said giveing him a small chuckle as he tilted his head a bit before giving an awnser a sudden hit what felt like the whole ship was going to crack in two you stumble trying to hold your balance to prevent from falling onto the floor as he grabbed you firmly by your shoulder and waist, this made you have alot of mixed feelings but mainly haveing the thought of what the hell is going on he had enough weight to anchor down to prevent from tumbling over too yet he felt the warmth of your soft skin with his padded gloves, you stood up and without a moment of thinking you pulled away from his grasp as you swiftly made your way to where the loud bang came from makeing almost the ship brake in two.

You know the short cuts, roots and ventilation systems at the back of your mind as you went to the upper class floors only to find a big ass patch of steel pieces and wiring scattered all over the hallway, it was unfortunate for those who got crushed by the debri, you sighed standing there with your hands restingon your kness catching breath after breath "Great more shit to fix can they not fly a ship or something-" you were cutted off as you heard an unholy scream that ended off in a low growl it sent a shiver up your spine wich made your blood run cold... you took a few steps back feeling like something is watching your every movement, your heart was raising that made your hands tremble you couldnt take this anymore as you went to to the large steel door as you were about to make your exit it closed infront of your face...

For kylo he was up the main cockpit of the ship to hear the brief situation on what hitted them, he didnt had time for this he wanted to make sure you were safe until he felt your sudden emotions this made him jolt out of the room with his cape fluttering behind him, he moved swiftly to the hallway you were stuck in he made it to the doors "Are you alright, are you hurt!" He said sending a hint of relief to your body as you replied back with alot of stutters "Y-yes and n-no theres s-something dangerous h-here, get me out of here p-please" he could hear the fear in your voice wich made his blood boil he took out his saber and started to slice through the door as you were huddled in a corner away from where the debri blocked the end of the two way hallway, your lower body and legs were buried under debri as you struggled to get free but it hurted so much.. your fragile body can easily get crushed if more weight was added to the debri..

Kylo eventually got through kicking the door down seeing a space like monster makeing its way to you, he wouldnt let that thing touch you he leaped to the monster and started to slice and dice it with his saber of ligh as the space monster sented out a shriek of pain but it fought back too, eventually kylo made the monstrosity tire itself out by ending it through the heart and then the head he breathed slowly to calm down as the sound of his saber sheath as he made his way to you in a rush he took off the debri crushing you as he saw your face glazed in fear alongside with tears flowing down your cheeks "Your safe with me theres no need to be scared anymore.." he said slowly moveing your body towards him as he scooped you gently up in his strong arms, he didnt had any trouble picking you up because of how light you were "T-thank y-you" you mustered holding onto him as you buried your face in his chest as you felt a rush of safety and reassurance rush through your body, you were soon out like a candle in his arms...

You blacked out, you could only remember the past events of what happened wich triggered your past of who you once were it gave adrenaline to your body as you woke up in shock in the medbay the haert rate monitor beeping rapidly, you scanned your surroundings as you leaned back onto the pillows relaxing as you sighed peacefully closeing your eyes once more to rest in for the day. Kylo had alot of concerned looks by those who passed by him, he didnt care but what he did care was your safety he took you into the med bay as the nurses took you from there before he lefy he took one final look at you before attending important matters.

[socheckitout-mikey]

Could you do some headcanons or a short story where Dallas meets his soc girlfriend’s parents?

heya birdie! i love dally sm, like whenever i get a request for him i get so hyped. okay, these are kinda bad bc i just got inspired to write them, but i hope you like them! thanks so much for requesting these (': - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dallas Winston Meets his Soc s/o's Parents for the First Time:

° Lmaoo rip to your parents bc they're about to have a real big storming coming their way. 

° So upon seeing Dallas, they don't really have the best first impression because they're not dumb, they know this kid from the papers because he's always doing rough stuff and getting arrested.

° And they honestly don't want you anywhere near that kind of guy, but your teenage angst filled heart has decided this hood is the one for you. lmaoo you're so dramatic istg! 

° Although Dally is the resident bad boy of Tulsa Oklahoma, he can't deny that he's actually bricking it, because he does really like you and maybe there's that dumb little part of him that might actually want to make a good impression on your folks… just don't go hollering that stuff out at him because it'll just make him mad. 

° For once he shows up at your front door instead of your bedroom window and Dally's wishing he'd swiped another pack of Cools from the corner store back on his side of town because he's all out of cigarettes which has made him feel pretty jumpy and restless.

° Meeting someone's folks just isn't really his style. He couldn't give two shits about what your folks thought of him, but it had been your damn puppy dog eyes that made him cave.

° Lmaoo he's silently cussing you out under his breath as he rings the doorbell.

° And he's just standing there like a bump on a log, totally standing out from the expensive home and possessions outside. He's wearing his best shirt and pair of jeans that weren't stained, and his leather boots had the minimal amount of scuff marks on them, so he was literally trying here. 

° He's kinda sweating it, but his expression is difficult to read as you open the door to let him in. But he takes in your figure and he totally wishes y'all had gone out instead on your lonesome bc boii do you look like a whole snack. 

° "You sure you wanna drag my half dead lookin' ass in when you look like that, babe?" He grinned, dipping in for a kiss but you retracted sheepishly. "What? Too much of a chicken to have your folks see you actually kiss trash like me, huh?" He taunted you. 

° "It ain't like that, dumbass…" 

° "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, sugar?" 

° You just grabbed his hand and yanked him into the hallway, his eyes roaming your figure as he finally got to have a swell look around your home for once. He was just used to your snazzy room.

° His eyes were travelling all over the expensive furniture before he let out a low whistle and that's when your parents saw Dallas Winston.

° Your dad choked on his cigar smoke and your mother choked on her wine lmaooooooo

° "What's he doing here, y/n?!" your mother shrieked. 

° "Yeah, honey, I thought we were meeting your boyfriend?" 

° "This is my boyfriend…" 

° Dally had been expecting this bc ya boii is used to this sort of judgement and he's honestly just in his element, but trying to keep that shit eating grin from plastering itself on his face and a smart ass comment from leaving his mouth is harder than he thought it'd be. You'd smack him upside the head if he did that, and he wasn't itching to get on your bad side.

° So it's safe to say that this is a mega awkward dinner with your father and mother clearing their throat constantly. 

° Lmaoo Dally's just eating his food like he hasn't eaten in 3 days which is probably true. 

° You stomped on his foot bc he'd gotten spaghetti sauce down his chin. 

° "Eat like a normal person, Dal!" you hissed because you knew he was messing with you just to irritate your dad. 

° "Alright, alright!" 

° The onslaught of questions Dallas receives is unnecessary and you're highkey ready to crawl under the floorboards and die. 

° "You been in jail recently?" 

° "Dad!" 

° "Hell yeah I have, I got booked in for-" 

° "Dal!" 

° I think your mum warms up to him first tbh. Like Dallas is charming when he wants to be and he ends up melting her heart for real though! 

° Next thing you know your mum's on Dally's side and has turned on your dad lmaoo. 

° "Can't you just be polite and ask him normal questions? I mean, don't you think you're being tough on him?" lol your mum's highkey savage though. 

° It's safe to say that there's no fancy cigars smoked between your dad and Dallas that evening, although he did steal one for himself when he went to the guest bathroom three hours ago. He's a swiper istg.

° You walk him to your front door and you can hear your mother gushing about how cute he is and you're blushing. 

° "Ugh, I dunno how to tell you this but… I think your mom's got the hots for me."

° "Gross, Dal." You visibly shudder which makes him laugh. 

° "I'll see you later then?" He inquires with the tilt of his head, his eyes blazing with mischief and everything unholy. 

° "Yeah, I'll keep my window unlocked." You smile, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

° "That's my girl/guy." he grins against your mouth before deepening the kiss. 

° He smoked that cigar in your room that night, I mean props to him for stealing it and all lmaoo. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, share and follow for more! 

requests: open! 

[shadowsinger11]

I loved your george headcannons! I’m sure you’ve already been asked to do Fred but if you haven’t could you? thank you sweets!

Hey love! Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed them! You're the first to request Fred headcanons but many people after you did too and I'm happy to provide😘🔥

Where my Freddie hoes at lmao

Fred Weasley NSFW Headcanons

Lord save me after writing this filth

This should go without saying - if you're with Fred Weasley, you're in for a wild ride.

He's adventurous, funny, cocky, flirty and great in bed. The entire package.

From the very beginning it was painfully obvious to you both and to everyone else at school that there was something going on between you two.

Suggestive glances from across the hall, lingering touches on the shoulder or thigh, purposeful lip biting, it was all done with the goal of getting the other worked up. And you both knew it was efficient.

Such close proximity made you both go to your dorms to let out the frustration in piece. Fred would hop onto his bed and quickly unzip his pants, eager to stroke his thick, hard cock with precum already leaking at the top. Aggressive grunts and growls would rip from Fred's throat, hand furiously squeezing and rubbing up and down his impressive length until he finally came, shooting his seed on the bed which he so craved to fuck you into.

Needless to say that Fred loved jerking off and he'd do it often, sometimes because he was bored, but mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about the way your school skirt was way too short that particular day, showing just the right amount of ass for him to stare at.

Let's get this straight - Fred liked you for much more than your appearance, and he absolutely adored your personality and how well you two got along. But he couldn't deny the fact that you possessed an unholy amount of sex appeal and he couldn't stop undressing you with his eyes.

After a year of mutual pining, you finally got together and the entire school was relieved that this game of cat and mouse was over. Except for the Fred fangirls who were very sad but oh well, our Freddie is a one-woman man™️

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take you long at all to get intimate. Fred had extremely vivid ideas for what exactly he wished to do to you and judging by how skilled he was, you knew he had been imagining you naked underneath him many many times.

Regardless of his popularity, Fred had only dated one or two people before you. He wouldn't just date every girl who gave him a smile or a nice compliment, he saught a connection; a connection he shared with you.

Fred has some very solid knowledge on how to please a woman. At that point he's an expert at giving oral and he knew exactly how to find out what worked for you without it being too awkward. This would be very helpful if you were a virgin and nervous.

He's wild and adventurous, but he always makes sure his lady is comfortable first instead of jumping straight into the kinky stuff. Your health and wellbeing are his top priority.

All this said, Fred loves eating pussy and you can fight me on this.

Getting blowjobs is cool, sure, but you know what is extremely arousing to Fred? Having your wrists tied to the bed frame with his belt and watching you desperately pull on the leather while Fred is holding your thighs wide open, devouring you.

The feeling of being completely at his mercy while Fred was shamelessly feasting on you, caused you to get much wetter than you ever had and he hummed in appreciation, greedily lapping up your juices and flicking your clit with his tongue.

Speaking of oral, Fred was 200% the kind of guy to make you cum at least twice every single time before letting himself finish. There was something oddly satisfying about knowing he could make you orgasm again and again, and again until your trembling thighs glistened with your wetness and his saliva. You bet he wouldn't spend a good hour and a half simply tasting you and pleasuring you with his tongue, hands roughly gripping your hips.

Fred turned it into his personal competition to make you cum as many times as possible. He'd happily take it to four or even five if you were up to it. He'd see it as his personal achievement to know he can make you feel this good.

Fred can be slow and loving if you wanted him to be, but he's more into getting it fast and rough. His cock is exceptionally thick but he always makes you so incredibly wet so it's never a problem; you enjoy the feeling of having him stretch out your warm, wet insides before plunging deep into you over and over again until you're gasping for air.

In the end, Fred is a cuddly teddy bear. Doesn't matter if he's been fucking you like a bull for the last few hours, aftercare with him is heartwarming as hell. He'd pull out a bag of chocolate and feed you pieces of it while playing with your hair and occasionally dropping lewd comments on how well you had done in bed.

Get ready to wake up in the morning with red marks on your neck, chest, belly, hips and thighs. Be it from his fingers or mouth, there are always marks to remind you of the mindblowing time you had had the previous night. And one hungry look from Fred is enough to let you know you'd be doing it all over again.

I know I went overboard with this one but Fred has me on my knees🥵🔥

Likes don't help me grow, please reblog my work if you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

[xoruffitup]

Annette: The AD Devotee Review

So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!

Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.

While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.

A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.

To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!

The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work. 

And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!

The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.

Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!

Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….

I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.

But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.

Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.

While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.

Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.

His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.  

Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.

In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.

Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.

(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.

Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.

The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.

Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺

I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.

Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.

Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”

Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.

On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.

Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.

...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.

I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3

Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)

*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*

Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)

The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.

The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.

Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.

Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)

Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.

…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.

BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin. 

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had. 

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. 

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian. 

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain. 

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting. 

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know. 

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying. 

“Konechno.” Of course. 

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again. 

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death. 

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman. 

My father is an arms-dealer. 

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy. 

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t. 

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty. 

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people. 

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly. 

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer. 

“Starik,” I tease. Old man. 

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York. 

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise. 

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase. 

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital. 

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait. 

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details. 

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé. 

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored. 

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him. 

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option. 

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room. 

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature. 

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more. 

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest. 

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name. 

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now. 

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected. 

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello. 

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield. 

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello. 

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction. 

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave. 

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck. 

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys. 

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official. 

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual. 

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it. 

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

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[fabricated-misslieness]

Hey! This is the person who requested the Tamaki one. I was thinking maybe having the story continue from the last one, so either they run away together and having kids or their parents actually accept them getting married. Even if you don’t continue from this story I would love it if you could write it as a seme male reader.......hell a lemon would be awesome but I don’t know if you do those. Anyways thank you for replying!!!!

Tamaki Suoh x male reader

Heyo! I do accept lemons, but I don’t feel like doing them right now. Long ass title but I have no idea rn

Part 2 of Tamaki realizing he wants children with you…

Except now you have children.

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1,403

There were times when Tamaki regretted having children.

Except that was a lie and he didn’t, he’d just say it in his mind and groan from frustration. He doesn’t actually mean it, but in the moment, he definitely thinks about it.

He gets frustrated even when he has servants running around and helping.

How can commoners even handle this?

It’s always a disaster when he’s handling the children without either his husband or the head nursery servant.

Yes, that’s right. They got plenty of servants whose only purpose was to deal with the children. Tamaki can’t do this alone, at all.

Anyway, he definitely feels a lot better about having kids most of the time. It’s what he dreamed of since that one night. And lo and behold, his husband was actually really good with children. Maybe he couldn’t deal with them alone, but nothing’s to blame. There are five of them and they’re all so young that only one of them’s in school, in kindergarten.

Which means they’re too energetic for their own good.

“DAAAAAAAAAAAD!”

Speak of the devil.

An unholy shriek and the owner of said vocal chords rounded the corner. It was one of the twins.

Tamaki definitely didn’t want twins, the Hitachiins proved that they were too much to handle, anyway. Well, there was nothing they could do about it. They can’t just abandon the children, especially when they came from a previous surrogate.

“Just one second.” He was in the middle of a business call, but the little girl was nagging him and punching him weakly, and she wouldn’t stop until he paid attention to her.

Tamaki put the businessman on hold and layed the phone on his desk. That’s right, how did Catherine even open the door to his office?

There was no time to wonder, as the girl noticed he wasn’t on the call anymore.

“Tristan broke my leg!” The small blonde toddler seemed to be walking just fine.

“Well, Cath, that doesn’t seem like true, does it?” Tamaki remarked with a laugh, walking over to crouch in front of his daughter.

Catherine brandished a small plastic doll from behind her, showing off the broken part. With her other hand, she showed him the leg the poor doll was missing.

“Quite rude of Tristan, wasn’t it?” Tamaki whispered with a playful tone, taking the doll and her leg from the child.

“DAAAD, no! Don’t believe her!” From the same corner came the other twin, pouting. “She ripped it off herself! She’s framing me!”

“Where did you learn that word?” Tamaki muttered, though that was a problem for another time. The twins started babbling insults at each other as Tamaki inspected the doll, trying to come up with a solution. He wasn’t going to find one anytime soon.

“Ah, there you are.” And here was the head nursery servant to save the day.

“Catherine ripped it off.” She said, pulling the twins apart from each other and holding their hands in her own. “Sorry, mr. (l/n).” She bowed, pulling the twins behind her.

“It’s no problem, mrs. Oh.”

With a nod, the old woman left the room, closing the doors behind her.

“Pardon me, but where were we?” He brought the phone back to his ear and his hands back to his laptop, taking small notes.

“Cho! Cho, no!” The blonde heard heels clicking and slippery footsteps along the tiles of the outside of his office door, and he thanked god, for his call was ending.

“Well, sir, we’re going to have to cut formalities. It seems I have another child calling.” He joked nervously, and felt relief when the man on the other line laughed. He was never good at dealing with these strict businessmen, but thankfully this one was humorous.

“Ah, five children I believe? That’s one circus.”

“Yes, five energetic kids. They’re all so young.” Tamaki sighed in a way that the man on line could hear his tiredness.

“I mustn't keep you long, then.”

After short farewells, Tamaki rushed out of his office, finding the floor wet, but not soapy.

From the door, he could see one of the nursery servants scrambling towards a naked, wet, toddler. That certain servant was never good in heels, though she refused to switch shoe. While the toddler seemed to be walking well, she was not.

He rushed over just as he saw her slip and caught her by the shoulders.

“Thank you, mr. (l/n). I’m so terribly sorry.” She sighed, steadying herself with the wall.

“It’s alright, I better catch up.” The servant laughed as Tamaki rushed away from her, following the wet trail his daughter was leaving.

When he rounded the corner, he didn’t see his daughter, and when he rounded another, following the trail, he lost his footing.

He spread his arms out to steady himself with the walls, but the halls were too open.

He closed his eyes, preparing for impact.

And then he fell on a broad chest, an arm wrapping around him.

“Are you okay, dear?” The soothing voice of his husband reached his ears, and then the squabble of his toddler followed. He smiled, opening his eyes to see his beautiful husband and the wet toddler held on his other arm.

“I’m fine.” The blonde laughed, steading himself but not leaving his husband’s hold. “How was work?”

“Boring,” (y/n) deadpanned, making Tamaki laugh. “as always. But work is work, and it’s alright.”

“Ah, mister-” The servant cut herself off, it was always a bit confusing for her on how to call the pair individually when they were in the same room.

“(y/n).” He gave her a warm smile.

“Mister (y/n), I see you’ve got quite the catch.” She joked, gesturing to Tamaki and their daughter, making them all laugh. Cho, the spry little two year old, laughed with them, although she didn’t understand.

“I’ll take her from you, she got away before I could get soap on her.” She took Cho in her hold, wetting her clothes, but she didn’t mind. She walked off with the child, scolding her lightly.

A small patch of (y/n)’s own shirt was wet from where he held Cho, but it wasn’t all that bad. He was going to take a shower anyway.

“So how was Ryuu at school today?”

Five cute and calm sleeping children, in their own respective rooms. It was nice to see them off before sleep, and it would never feel old, even after a million years.

Tamaki was glad they had children, they were a product of his and his husband’s love and endearment. They were his everything.

It always gave him a small spur of energy when he realized he would be staying awake longer than his children would, like a ten year old staying up until twelve am just for the thrill of it. But tonight, he was a little tired, both him and his husband.

The day was a busy one, full of businessmen, phone calls, boring work, and children.

The child in him was telling him to stay up and have some fun, but the adult in him knew he couldn’t. Their work was done and sleep was nice, especially in his husband’s arms.

Besides, what if Francis woke them up at an ungodly hour again? Babies were the hardest to take care of, even with toddlers running around, a baby couldn’t talk and tell you what it wanted. It was hard to find out what they needed, especially with Francis. He was the hardest to figure out.

They both agreed to sleeping earlier, but as they tucked into bed, a little kid had to stumble in. It was Ryuu, sniffling and afraid. He clutched his teddy bear tightly.

“Ryuu, something wrong?” Tamaki rushed over quickly, pulling the child into his arms. Ryuu nodded, burying his face into Tamaki’s neck.

“What is it, love?” (y/n) asked as Tamaki set the child down next to him. He got into bed next to the four year old, soothing him and running a hand through his hair.

“Nightmare.” Ryuu sniffled out, replacing the teddy bear with his (h/c) dad.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

No matter how old they got, they would never stop being scared, and it was something they’d be fine with soothing for the rest of their years.

It was something they signed up for with the first child, and they’d never give it up.

Tags: @yaoilover0

[swaps55]

Laugh Lines

I did this prompt for @painterofhorizons​ not long ago, in which I was asked to write a short scene where one of my OTP compliments the other. So after writing some fluff with Kaidan complimenting Sam, @mallaidhsomo​ requested the reverse: Sam complimenting Kaidan. 

I do not do Sam’s POV unless it’s post-war, so have some post-war fluff: 

~

Shepard shifts in his spot on the couch, attempting to restore feeling to his right thigh without disturbing Kaidan, whose head rests in his lap. He’d fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago, still in his post-migraine t-shirt and sweats, making that soft half-breathing, half-snoring sound he insists he doesn’t make. Kaidan stirs at the repositioning but doesn’t open his eyes – victory – and Shepard sighs as the blood starts flowing back where it belongs.

Pins and needles aside…he lives for these moments. Kaidan nestled against him, relaxed and warm – except for his fucking hands, how are his hands always blocks of ice – a study in stillness. It’s a chance to study him unobserved, take in every line, every feature, and update his mental map. Like the new silver strands creeping from his temple into the thick mop on his head. The freckle on his cheek that he swears wasn’t there a few weeks ago. The faint scar across his lower lip.

Shepard brushes a finger along the lines at the corner of Kaidan’s eyes, deeper now than they used to be. Those…those are his favorite.  

They’re getting older. Both of them.

It’s…a gift. One he never thought they’d get.

The half-snore stops, and a pair of half-awake brown eyes blink up at him.

“Hey, you,” Shepard murmurs. “How do you feel?”

Kaidan yawns and stretches before settling back into Shepard’s lap, and right back on the tingling thigh. “Better. Did I fall back asleep?”

“Mmhmm.”

His eyes narrow and he wipes at the corner of his mouth. “Did I drool on you?”

“No,” Shepard assures him, gently shifting him to a better spot. “Not this time. Just got to stare at your gorgeous face for a few extra minutes.”

“Gorgeous, huh. What’s so gorgeous about my face?”

“These,” Shepard says softly, tracing those tiny lines again with his thumb.

“Crow’s feet. You think my crow’s feet are gorgeous.”

The corner of Shepard’s mouth quirks in a smile. “They’re laugh lines, you ass. When you laugh, your eyes crinkle up – see, like that – and it’s breathtaking.”

Kaidan’s chuckle quiets, but the smile on his face stays. “All right. Laugh lines. I like it.”

“Yeah. Do you know how much effort I’ve put into making you laugh over the years? There’s no pain that laugh can’t cure. Like to think you have those lines because of me.”

“Maybe I do,” Kaidan says, closing his eyes as Shepard cards his fingers through his hair. “Mmm. That feels nice.”

“Self-serving. I have this thing for your hair.”

Kaidan arches his back and stretches, like a cat basking in sunlight. “Oh, I like this. What else do you enjoy so much about me? Go on, shower me with compliments.”

“This.” Shepard pushes the hem of Kaidan’s shirt up to expose bare skin, tracing fingers through the swirl of fine hairs around his belly button. “I don’t know why, but everything about…this is…I’m into it. Is that weird?”

“No,” Kaidan says with a smile.

“Shouldn’t I be into your ass or something? Um. Don’t get me wrong, you have a nice ass.”

The smile gets bigger, with that smirk of understanding that means he knows Shepard’s flailing but is going to sit back and enjoy it. Because he thinks it’s cute. Somehow.

“I just…don’t get the galaxy’s obsession with asses in general,” Shepard tries to explain, playing right into that smirk. “I mean, they’re fine, I guess. Yours is fine. Wait, no. Better than fine. Because you’re you and I’ll never be over how beautiful you are and...ah, fuck. You have a very aesthetically pleasing ass, but I’m really into your happy trail, ok?”

“Mmhmm,” Kaidan says, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Yes, I get it.”

Shepard waves a helpless hand. “I’m not good at complimenting you. I can never figure out how the hell to put you into words. None of them are good enough.”

Kaidan catches his hand and kisses his knuckles. “You do a lot better than you think.”

Shepard twists the metal band on Kaidan’s ring finger. The one that’s supposed to symbolize everything Shepard’s felt for years, that there is only one person he ever wants to belong to, or have belong to him. He’d scoffed at the symbol, at first.

Loving Kaidan is ingrained, a choice he makes day in and day out without thinking, no different and no less automatic than his choice to breathe. It’s part him. Fact. Something that simply…is. Why did they need a symbol for something that to him, needs no reinforcement?

But he’s grown to like it. A tactile reminder that he’s given part of himself to someone else, and accepted part of him in return. Some things just need to be expressed out loud, in plain view. 

He folds their fingers together, smiling at the familiar chill of Kaidan’s cold hand against his warm one.     

“There’s just…a you-shaped space everywhere I go. If you’re not there to fill it…nothing feels right. There’s nothing about you I don’t love.”

Kaidan’s smirk softens, that awestruck look coming into his eyes Shepard could just fall into and never find his way out of.

“Your stance on peppermint begs to differ,” Kaidan points out.

Shepard bites back a retort – this is supposed to be about compliments – and takes a deep breath. “Your unholy love of a flavor that’s an abomination against any god anyone’s ever believed in is part of who you are.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss against Kaidan’s lips.

“And I love who you are.”

Kaidan gazes up at him. It’s a look Shepard has seen a thousand times before, and wants to see a thousand times again.

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Shepard hesitates, then wrinkles his nose. “The peppermint is pretty awful, though.”

Kaidan laughs, lines at the corner of his eyes deepening, and Shepard revels in the sound.