#The field where my fucks grow is empty

[its-in-the-woods]

For all the people hating on people writing

It's fiction

Who gives a sh!t If its not Canon!

The character won't do that. The ship is not cannon. But their backstory indicates that x.. and?! And?! Who made you the gatekeeper of said fictional character!

I wouldn't give two 💩💩 if the writer of said character came on here and told me otherwise. Cause guess what these are now everyone's character. Two bad!

Your high horse snootyness is showing.

The whole damn point is to write what you see. Enjoy the writing and block the assholes.

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (3) | Joe Burrow

Smut/18+, Fluff, Slight Angst

Summary: you and Joe are learning to juggle your pregnancy on top of the fast approaching football season, all while growing even closer than before, which neither of you thought was possible.

You’re bent over the toilet of the facility bathroom emptying to contents of your stomach. The nausea seemed to come in swinging. This is how you found yourself most mornings, and even throughout the day. The anti-nausea medicine prescribed to you barely ever seemed to work. Letting out a groan, you flushed the toilet and stood up.

It’d been two weeks since the confirmation of your pregnancy, and you learned from the ultra sound that you were about 3 months along. While you weren’t showing yet, the weight gain was starting to become obvious. Your jeans no longer fit you, so you opted for leggings most of the time. Your bra’s became too snug, so you had to get new ones. Most of all, you’d started wearing Joe’s bengals shirts to work to hide the weight gain. The two of you still hadn’t told anyone about the baby. You wanted to live in your own little bubble for a while. Joe agreed, knowing it would cause less stress for you if you hadn’t told anyone yet.

You washed your hands and walked out of the bathroom. You stopped by your office to grab your laptop, and made your way toward the practice field. Practice wasn’t open to the public today so you opted to work outside. You needed some fresh air anyway. You took a seat on a slightly shaded part of grass, and started to respond to emails regarding brand deals and events that Joe would need to go to. Setting up interviews and juggling everything around his football schedule. You also had to plan doctors appointments around both of your schedules, because he said he refuses to miss a single one.

You hear a whistle blow, and look up just in time to see Joe hoping on one foot, out of the way of the play and taking a seat on the ground, with his brow furrowed in pain. Your heart drops to your stomach. You set your laptop aside, and watch as Coach Taylor walks over to Joe. You don’t dare walk over there because Joe would throw a fit if someone even accidentally bumped you.

“Fuck,” you mutter as Joe gets carted off the field. You gather your things and quickly make your way back into the facility. You find Joe in one of the medical rooms sitting on the table, he’s by himself so you slip into the room. “Hey, what happened?”

“Strained my damn calf.” he spits, and you wince. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh” he apologizes. “Zac dismissed me for the day. I’m just trying to find the motivation to get up and take a shower before we head out. Hurts like a bitch,” he admits, looking over at you. “Do you need help?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“No, I should be okay. I don’t think I can drive though”

“Well it’s a good thing we came together then. You’ll just have to trust me to drive your baby” you joke, and he jokingly rolls his eyes. “If I can trust you to carry my baby then I guess I can trust you to drive my third baby” he jokes, and you grow confused. “Third?”

“Well, there’s you, our baby, and my Porsche” he explains, and your heart melts. “Let’s get outta here,” he says before you can say anything, slowly getting on his feet.

•••

“Thanks, baby” Joe says as you set a plate of food in front of him while he sits on the couch with his leg elevated. You smiled at him in return before taking a seat next to him. You look over at him while he eats, and you can’t shake the thought from your head. “Joey,” you say, catching his attention. “Can we talk…about us?”

He sets his plate aside and looks over at you, not being able to move much due to his calf. “What about us?” He asks softly. You let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering where everything leaves us. You know, with the baby and all. I’m 100% okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I have to get this off of my chest” you tell him, taking a deep breath. He bites the inside of his cheek, stopping a smile from forming. He knows exactly where this is going.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time. Which is why I let our situation go on for such a long time. I craved that touch from you. I craved literally anything from you. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this baby made me realize that I don’t want to be without you. Ever. I love you, Joey, and you don’t have to say back. I just needed you to know-“

He cuts you off by pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was slow, not rushed. Soft and full of love. It felt like fireworks were bursting in your chest. You pulled away and stared into his eyes, a look of adoration evident in the ocean blue irises that you loved so much.

“I love you, so so much” Joe mutters. “You and our baby”

“So what does this mean for us?” You ask quietly, with a hint of hope in your voice. “It means you’ve always been my girl, but now it’s official” he smirks, pulling you to straddle his waist. “Joey, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You shriek, trying to get off of his lap. “It’s my calf not my thighs. You’re perfectly fine, baby” he assures you, before smashing his lips onto yours.

This kiss was feverish and full of desire. The raw passion made the room around you feel warm. Joe’s hands settle on your ass, grinding you down on his growing erection inside his sweats. He groans into the kiss as he repeats his action. Your hands slide down his clothed chest, moving slowly toward the bottom of his hoodie. You slide your hands under his hoodie and his shirt, moving it up and he help you take it off. His hands grip the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your head, you weren’t wearing a bra, do your boobs sprung in his face.

His mouth attaches to one of your sensitive nipples and you let out a sharp gasp. “Please be gentle, they’re sore right now” you tell him breathlessly. “I got you baby, I’ll take care of you” Joe says, his tongue slowly circling your left nipple. You tip your head back as you let out a soft moan. He gently sucks it into his mouth before letting it go with a pop, moving to the other side.

“Fuck, Joey” you whine, grinding yourself into his lap. “You like this gorgeous? Fuck, your tits are huge now. They’re so beautiful” he groans, softly kneading them in his large hands. You lean in capturing his lips again. His hands push your cotton shorts over the curve of your ass, slapping it as he does so, causing you to gasp.

“Take these off,” he says, helping you stand to remove your shorts. He removes his sweats as well. Both of you completely bare, not like you haven’t been before. You straddle his waist again, his hard cock rubbing perfectly against your swollen bud. You whine, grinding down. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby, don’t you worry” he whispers in your ear, his voice laced with lust. His hand moves between your thighs, groaning when he feels how wet you are for him. You whine as he gathers your wetness and his fingers start to circle your clit.

Your nipples rubbing against his chest made the pleasure feel almost overwhelming. His lips are back on yours while his fingers work you. Your moans and whines are caught in his mouth. He pulls away, his lips finding your chest again, you throw your head back. “Fuck Joey!” You whine loudly. “Fuuuckk” you moan out, and he smirks against your chest. You let out a sharp gasp when his fingers move from your clit to your sopping entrance, and he inserts two fingers.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me,” Joe groans. “Baby, I’m gonna cum” you whine out and his fingers move faster. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my hand”

Your breathless moans sound throughout the living room, your head tipped back as you fall apart from just his talented fingers. You lean forward and rest your sweaty forehead on his shoulder. “You think you can ride me, baby?” Joe mutters into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You nod and pull back to position yourself above him. Sinking down slowly, you feel every inch. Every vein. Your eyes are shut and mouth formed into a perfect “O” shape. Joe lets out a groan as you’re fully seated. He gives you a minute to adjust to his size.

You feel so full. You haven’t felt this in almost a month due to the two of you being so busy. You start to move back and fourth, a soft moan slipping past your lips. Joe’s large hands find your waist to help guide you. You let out a laid moan as he lips your hips and slams you back down. “Oh my god!”

“Yeah, you like that baby?”

You let out a loud moan in response. His hands basically doing all of the work. The pace is merciless. His cock hitting all the right places. “Fuck, daddy, right there!” You yell out, without realizing what had slipped, but Joe fucking loved it. “Say it again.” He orders, moving you faster. “Fuck, daddy!” You gasp out. You can feel the knot tightening in your belly. Joe can feel the way you’re squeezing him, and he knows you’re close.

“You gonna cum baby? Cum all over this dick”

You let out a loud, high pitched whine. “I’m gonna fill you up. You’re gonna look so sexy all big and pregnant with my baby. Fuuckkk” Joe groans, tipping his head back. You yell out as you come apart, his hands holding you in place. Both of your chests heaving. You lean forward and lay your head on his shoulder and slowly lift yourself off of him, both of you hissing.

“That was hot,” you comment breathlessly.

“So hot.” Joe agrees. “You good?” He asks and you lift your head to make eye contact. “So good.”

“But I am a little hungry.” You comment sheepishly, and Joe lets out a loud laugh. “Alright. Let’s go shower and then get you and baby some food”

•••

The next day at work was a busy one. The first pre season game was in just 3 days. You and other players assistants were running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to prepare everything for the guys. You more than most since you literally work for the quarterback. You felt like you hadn’t had a chance to stop and take a breath.

Finally you were able to retreat to your office for lunch. Gabby already sitting at her desk, smiled at you tiredly as you walked in. “Hey girlie” she says, and you smile at her. “Hey. Heard your load was pretty big today” you comment and she groans. “Don’t remind me—oh my gosh! Y/N, you have blood on the back of your pants” Gabby says, letting out a gasp. You heart falls into your stomach. This isn’t happening.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes begin to fill with tears. “Hey, it’s okay. I have an extra pair of pants in my bag that you can borrow-“

“Gabby, I need you to go get Joe”

“Why would you need Joe for this?” She questions confused. “Gabby please. Just get Joe”

[arcanarix]

f!sorcerer reader, dubcon, stalking, possessiveness, harassment (there will be a non sorcerer reader version)

bully!satosugu aren’t your average bullies. they aren’t bogged down each time you ignore their attempts at getting under your skin. they know you’re smart and know better… but so are they and they do too. and maybe they’re less interested in breaking you down more than simply getting to know you :)

(but they need to understand you aren’t your average target. you can and will stand up for yourself. you don’t show much interest in general and that just baffles them.)

bully!satosugu…who aren’t the kind to dominate the small world of jujutsu tech one because there’s no reason for that or anything to gain from it either but they are instead viewed as just two boys sharing the same brain cell. shoko and utahime tell you not to pay them any mind; they’re just two dumbasses with an overinflated sense of importance being speshul grades. nanami even reiterates the fact. plus they annoy everyone, so it’s not like you’re a special case here.

bully!satosugu who get all up in your space and in your business, ignoring your protests when they snatch your books and notes out of your hands and lap and geto’s scooping you into his strong hold instead.

“why’s a grade 3 sorcerer wasting her time? trust me, we have better things in mind for a pretty thing like you,” geto purrs.

“and besides, what use is a grade 3 in the field when the two strongest can just take care of everything? hmmmm?” gojo taunts while fiddling with a stray strand of your hair.

instead of seeming intimidated, you’re just annoyed that your work has been disrupted. you don’t give them an outward reaction, just a deadpan, “if you don’t let me go i’ll use my curse technique to castrate the two of you.”

that seems to work for now!

bully!satosugu who…for some reason hover over you like they’re your bodyguards yet you treat them as if they’re not there the entire time. even if gojo can usually annoy someone to the point of tears, you don’t react, instead you’re able to completely tune him AND geto out.

how… Unnerving! Perplexing?

bully!satosugu who HATE to see you divert your attention to anyone else be it nanami or haibara or even shoko and utahime. something sets them off when you giggle a little too hard at some off hand deadpan remark nanami makes, you keep making eyes at him like you like him and not them. what’s up with that? and then they see nanami resting his hand on your thigh……….

and shooting a glare their way, as if to ward them off of you or else? wha?

bully!satosugu who aren’t keen on the idea of you trying to have a life outside of them (you never wanted a life with them from the start, but you digress) so they corner you in one of the empty lecture halls. you tell them you don’t know what they mean. in fact you insist, because you really don’t understand (or really care either). you have no regard for them, but they seem to hold so much interest in you and they don’t like that you don’t appreciate their attention so you had to get it instead from fucking NANAMI.

setting your book on your lap, you meet their accusatory gazes with disinterest.

“i don’t have to entertain any of this,” you remark, “i’m not interested in engaging in something like this when we’re in an environment where we’re forced to coexist. i will acknowledge you as my peers but nothing more.”

thinking you have the last word, you get up and brush past them, but geto grabs your wrist and twists you around. you grunt.

“maybe we have to show her why she should want us by her side, satoru,” he suggests in a low, dangerous tone.

“will she actually learn this time, though?”

“oh, it doesn’t matter. we can always repeat the lesson until she understands,” geto yanks you toward him until your back hits his front, your breath hitching as you feel a growing erection through his baggy uniform.

“you both might find better payoff deepthroating each other,” you scoff.

geto’s nostrils flare at that.

“such a foul mouth,” he snarls, "better watch that tone with us."

“yeah,” satoru pitches in, inching closer with a little smirk. “maybe we ought to plug it up.”

TBC???

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴏʀʏ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ

PAIRING: Baseball player! Wooyoung x Cheerleader! F! Reader

SYNOPSIS: You can't blame Wooyoung for wanting to fuck upi after a good game, after all, having a hot girlfriend is tiresome.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Semi-public sex, college au, unprotected sex, oral (f, receiving), finger sucking, degradation, daddy kink (literally twice or thrice), wall sex, hints of voyeur! San.

Your smooth moves were contradicting your mind – which was filled with anticipation. It was already mid-game and although your boyfriend's team was leading with four points, the anxiety in you never settled.

Your abdomen is also filled with images of what might be awaiting you if Wooyoung won the cup for your university. It was almost like the feeling of his plump lips resting against your lips still lingered on your skin while he whispered, “I'm gonna win this game and ravage your tight little pussy till you're digging your nails on my back.”

Surely his whisper had been subtle but the same couldn't have been said to deep blish taking over your face which caused your boyfriend to instantly bloom into a satisfied grin.

It was at the last round, that the atmosphere turned extremely silent – patiently waiting for Wooyoung to pitch the ball that would get his team the point to win the tournament.

In barely a few seconds – as you watch, loud cheers erupt, drowning out the loud ‘all out’. You exclaim in happiness, almost running down to where your lover stood with a proud smile while his eyes stalked your steps.

You immediately throw your arms around him, his own hands wrapping around your waist as he places a soft peck behind your ear. The subtle action has you clenching your thighs in excitement. “Congratulations, baby.”

You mentally thank your vocal chords for not betraying you. “Mhm, I hope you still remember the promise I made you, pretty.” You nibble on your lower lip from his words – his hands caress the sides of your waist sensually.

And before you knew it, Wooyoung's large hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away from the crowd, desperately trying not to draw attention to yourself. You expected him to pull you to his car to take you home but your surprise only grows when he drags you away to the sports locker rooms.

There was barely anyone in sight when Wooyoung pulled you into one of the empty sections inside the locker room, locking the door behind him.

It was a narrow space, but big enough to give the both of you room to fuck away like rabbits. “Did you seriously think about fucking me all the while you were on the field?” You ask as you wrap your arms around his shoulder – prepping kisses onto his jawline. “Having a hot girlfriend is tiresome, alright? You know how hard it was to not imagine you wrapped around my dick while wearing this short ass skirt of yours?”

His thigh locates itself in between your thighs, letting you grind over his tight jeans. Wooyoung gathers your hair in one big ponytail tugging at your hair to present your neck to himself.

It doesn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, sucking the area hard till you're a moaning mess in a few seconds – your hips grinding down on him desperately.

His tongue slides over the dark purple mark when his hands yank up your skirt to tear off your underwear. A chuckle from him when he feels your wetness on the pads of his fingers has your face flushing red. “You're fucking dripping, baby.”

Moving his hands to the hem of your shirt to effortlessly pull it off. With a swift move, his fingers skillfully unbuckle your bra, pushing the fabric off your body. The sudden exposure to the cold air causes your nipples to perk up.

Your hands mindlessly travel down to unbuckle his belt, hastily. Wooyoung is fast in helping your desperate hands as he holds your wrists in one hand, while throwing away his belt to the floor. But nonetheless, he shakes his head at you, “You gotta stop being impatient, princess.”

Although contradicting his words, Wooyoung suddenly moves down to his knees – his hands coming up to grasp your thighs from below. You yelp when – without a warning, Wooyoung hoists your right leg on his shoulder – leaning in between your thighs to attach his lips to your clit.

Your hands swiftly find home in between his hair locks as his tongue laps at your slick. You practically chew on your teeth to avoid the loud moans threatening to escape you. But your eyes shut close in pleasure as your lips stretch into a satisfied grin from finally feeling the pleasure coarse through your body.

Wooyoung's hand travels to the back of your ass, squeezing your flesh momentarily before pulling your pussy closer to himself – till his head is buried underneath your white skirt.

His tongue darks out to lap at your wet folds in a fast pace – which has your hands moving away from his hair to desperately find a surface to hold on to.

But, of course, Wooyoung almost had a smug smile painting his face when he heard your muffled noises which you tried to hold in desperately. Your eyes roll back when you feel your orgasm approaching – your bottom lip falling from the confines of your teeth as loud moans erupt from you. Your hazy brain could barely worry about making it obvious to the people outside.

“W-woo, Gonna cum” Your words could be confused for whimpers and a series of loud moans fall off your lips as you climax. Your hips twitch in Wooyoung's hold all while he moves his lips to press soft kisses to your inner thighs.

Rising to his feet, Wooyoung caresses the back of your neck, “Breath for me, baby.” He places butterfly kisses on your neck, “You did so well for me, love.” And soon, your pants lower as you get over your high.

“Want a break, princess?” His words immediately have you shaking your head, “Want you to fuck me, now.” He cocks his eyebrows at your demand, and the immediate “Please” from you doesn't help. “You know how to ask for something, baby.”

“Can you please fuck me, daddy?” Hoping the nickname makes him cave and ram his cock into you, your hands tug on his black baseball shirt. A smirk makes its way onto your lips, when Wooyoung groans under his breath – his hands almost ripping off his own pants as he hastily makes his way out of them.

And before you could speak a word, Wooyoung's fingers shove themselves into your mouth, his hand coming down to wrap your leg around his waist as he lines his cock in between your slippery folds. “My fucking pleasure, princess. You're gonna keep your mouth fucking shut while daddy fucks his cum into you alright?”

Your muffled whimpers and pathetic nod manages to break Wooyoung’s patience as he grips your hips closer to his – letting his thick cock slam its way into you. Your eyes roll back yet again, your hips immediately losing control at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Wooyoung slowly lets his cock slip out a bit before he is slamming into you again at a ruthless pace, his hand bruisingly gripping at your flesh. “Don't you fucking love being treated like a dirty slut?” the noises of skin-slapping resonate throughout the room – along with your muffled moans.

“You love getting fucked against some wall with barely any privacy? You wouldn't mind if someone barges in and watches the way I fill your little pussy with my cock, hmm?”

Your spit slips past your mouth, dripping down your chin from the way your brain can only think about Wooyoung's cock movements.

And out of nowhere, there was a familiar voice outside the door. Wooyoung curses under his breath, his hips barely halting from slapping against yours.

“Yo, where did Wooyoung run off to? I swear I couldn't see him anywhere.” San's voice was almost muffled from how farther he was from where you stood but the thought of getting caught by your boyfriend’s best friend almost has you clenching around Wooyoung.

“Fuck, San can barge in here any second, you know that right, baby?” His hips slam harder into you, for each thrust. “Maybe, he should. I think San would love to know what kind of slut is hiding behind that pretty face, wouldn't he?”

You can barely respond to Wooyoung's obvious question when you feel his fingers rub circles on your clit. And the action had you squirting all over his cock, your hold clenching down on him tightly. The sight of your orgasm and your warm walls closing around him, brings Wooyoung closer to his own orgasm sooner than he imagined. Wooyoung moans under his breath, as spurts of hot cum fill you up in seconds.

Both of you take a few minutes to ride out your orgasm – while you lean into each other's arms. “Fuck, that- was hot, babe.” Wooyoung says once he pulls his soft cock out of your hole.

As the both of you dress yourself back in your clothes quickly, you try not to make any more noises as you get out of the confined space. But you yelp loudly when the both of you come face-to-face with the wide-eyed San, whose face was as flushed as the tip of his cock which laid hard on the palm of his hands.

[mulletpermsicantlookaway]

A Locker Room Visitor

One day after classes, your path takes you by the field when the football team is finishing practice. And you see this guy.

You think he's really hot. You'd like to be like him. Hell, you'd like to be him. Well, that's not possible, but you're so obsessed that you decide to follow him to the locker room and maybe grab yourself a souvenir. You manage to hide in one of the empty lockers while the team is showering. The guy you followed is one of the last to leave. And you're in luck: he forgot his jockstrap and left it on the bench. Once you're sure that the coast is clear, you get out of the locker and grab the jock strap. Suddenly, you hear footsteps. It's the football player you followed. He's come back for his jock strap. But now he's seen you, and there's no escape.

"What do you think you're doing, little dude?" He asks you. "Oh, you want my jock strap? You think you're man enough to wear it? I don't think you are, but maybe, just maybe, I can make you worthy. Go ahead, dude. Take your clothes off. Now! Don't even think about trying to get away. "

So, you strip off your clothes until you're standing there naked in front of the football jock. It's humiliating, but you don't dare disobey him; he's way bigger and stronger than you are.

"What do I do now?" you ask.

"Put it on, little dude. "

You hesitate. It's still wet, and it smells like his sweat. "I said, put it on. Now!" You aren't even sure how to put it on. You've never worn one before. Exasperated, the football jock says, "You step through the straps and pull it up! Come on, dude. You're pathetic. I shouldn't even do this for you, but you're gonna get exactly what you have coming to you." You finally pull up the jock strap until the sweaty material touches your ball sack. As it comes in contact with your skin, you start to feel strange, as if you can't move. You find yourself sitting on the bench, wearing nothing but his jock strap. The football jock seems far away, and you feel dizzy, as if you might faint. You can feel the coldness of the bench against your ass, but nothing else seems real.

He hands you a pair of football pants and tells you to put them on. His voice booms in your ears. Nothing seems real, and you can hardly move, but somehow, you manage to get them on. They're too big for you, and they feel strange. Next, he has you put on his compression shirt, shoulder pads, and jersey. Everything is too big, and you tell him that nothing fits right. "Don't worry, little dude. You'll grow into them. " He has you put on his socks, too. You say something about the smell, and he laughs at you. "You'll get used to it. Now put on my cleats. "

The cleats are way too big, but he says, "You aren't going to be going anywhere for a while, so it doesn't matter if you can walk. Now to keep you quiet... here, put in my mouth guard. That'll keep you from talking until you're finished. "

He's right; you can't remove the mouth guard, and you can't form words. All you can do is make little whimpering noises. You want to tell him that you're sorry and to let you go, but he just looks at you and says, "Quiet, you perverted little prick. No one can hear you but me. If you want my jock strap, you're gonna be fucking worthy of wearing it. I'm doing you a huge favor. Now I just need to get your helmet ready, and then - well, you'll find out.

He grabs a helmet and puts it on your head. You already felt strange, but the helmet makes you feel even stranger. It's becoming hard to think. The football player says, "Okay, I'll be back in a few hours to check on you. You should be ready by then. " You realized that he intended to leave you in the locker room by yourself. You wanted to get up and leave, but you couldn't move. Your body felt heavy, and a fog had descended on your brain. You felt your eyelids closing, and in another moment, you fell asleep.

You wake up a few hours later. You feel very strange, and you aren't sure where you are or what happened to you. You get up from the bench, feeling very stiff and sore. "Whoa, that must have been some practice! Did I really fall asleep in the locker room? Still in my uniform? Where is everyone?" The locker room is empty and dimly lit. You take off your helmet and clatter over to the mirror in your cleats. They fit perfectly. Something about that seems wrong, but you can't remember what. Your reflection seems unfamiliar, too, but that couldn't be right? Your hair is curly and tousled, falling over your forehead below your heavy, dark eyebrows. Your jaw is square and masculine. Your face is handsome, but somehow it makes you think of someone else you can't quite remember. Your well developed shoulder muscles are popping out of your jersey. You feel your big cock straining against your jockstrap as stare at your reflection. "Damn, looking good, bro!" you think to yourself, "but why am I so fucking sore? That must have been some workout. I guess I'd better get changed and shower." Suddenly, you hear footsteps. Another football player is coming. He looks enough like you to be your brother, but do you know him? Of course, you must know him; you're both on the same team, right? He looks at you with a big grin on his handsome face.

"You feeling all right now, bro?"

"Yeah, bro," you say, "I feel fine, but how'd I fall asleep?" Your voice sounded strange in your own ears. Was your voice always that deep? Unconsciously, you touched your throat with your hand and felt the size of your Adam's apple. It seemed big. Everything about you felt bigger. For a moment, you felt dizzy, as if you were about to faint.

"You were so wiped out after practice that we left you here to sleep it off. But it's getting late, bro. I brought some clothes back for you. Go ahead and shower, and we can head back to our place. "

"Sure, bro," you said, still confused. You pulled the jersey over your head and unhooked the pads, setting them down on the bench. Then you took off the compression shirt, your cleats, and socks. Finally, you took off the football pants and the jock strap, freeing your massive meat from its confinement. All these gestures felt as familiar as breathing, but something tickled in the back of your mind as if you'd never done this before.

But that's stupid, you thought. You'd been playing football since you were a little kid. You swaggered to the showers, admiring your big feet, your muscular, hairy legs, and your massive chest. As you passed the mirror, you flexed your muscles and gave yourself a cocky smile. Your teammate, no roommate? Brother? Yeah, your brother chuckled. "You know you're hot, little bro. You don't have to prove it every time you get naked. Now go shower. It's getting late; we need to get home. If Coach finds out we broke curfew, we're both going to be in trouble. "

"Sorry, bro," you said. "I'll hurry. "

"And bro, one more thing," he said. "I told you I'd make you worthy of that jockstrap."

"What are you talking about, bro," you ask. "Never mind," he said, a huge grin on his face.

[teaboot]

I spent a lot of time alone outdoors growing up.

A lot of time.

It got to the point that some days I'd be sitting in the back of my dull beige classroom, and on the outside I'd be staring out into nothing but on the inside I'd be remembering how it felt being barefoot and knee-deep in sun-warmed mud, cutting my palms and soles to bits against craggy rock, leaning into the wind and screaming into the ocean, sprinting through the woods and standing dead silent in the dark in a wheat field in a thunderstorm, and feeling grit under my nails and bone and wood and rock and metal in my hands

And I'd look around at my stupid, flimsy pressboard desk, and the beige walls, and the grey ceiling, and feel soft, stagnant air circulate through the vents in delicate, dainty little puffs against my cheeks, and listen to kids my age who I couldn't understand and didn't feel connected to talk about things that made my brain go numb and melt out my ears while some fake-smiley adult pretended they knew how I felt

While back home where my siblings didnt know me and my parents didn't like me the house would be dark, empty, and cold, day after day, and the only satisfaction I knew I'd get would be if someone twice my size and three times my age got in my face and fucking tried it,

And I'd think,

This isn't real.

This is designed, and this is weak.

This is cardboard façades with nothing inside, this is tissue paper, this is Styrofoam packing peanuts and puffed rice wafers and the bottom three millimeters of day-old room-temperature water

And I'd get so fucking angry, so frustrated, just so stone-cold livid, helpless and furious, that sometimes I'd start to cry, not because I was sad but because my teeth were soft and round and dull and my fingers felt like they were brand-new pink pearl erasers splitting in half and everything was too much and not enough and all I needed in the whole wild world was to shred the air to pieces for the crime of being too fucking empty, too fucking soft, not *real* enough, like a wild animal clawing into prey only to have puffy cotton candy and soap bubbles spill out, sweet and tasteless and saccharine where it should be hot, bright, loud and solid and sharp.

So when the English teacher- a tall, thin man with glasses who smelled like strong patchouli and liked to ask us to "talk about our feelings" asked me to write about my life, that was what I wrote.

He told me I had a "powerful gift" and smiled, flashing straight, dull, soft round teeth.

I remember he'd ask me every day if he could read my work aloud to the class, every single day, and every day I would say "no", until one afternoon he just took my paper off my desk and did it anyways.

I was a rule-follower. Never broke the rules, never stepped out of line. I would never just leave class in the middle of a lesson, so I guess for a moment I was someone else.

I don't remember hearing him start to speak, but I remember sprinting out the door, hearing it slam behind me, and just not stopping until I was somewhere outside with the grass and the sky and the sun and a ringing inside my head.

After a while, I went back, and by then I guess he'd finished talking.

I sat down at my desk and finished the lesson.

I thought I'd be in trouble or something after that, but nobody mentioned it.

After the bell, I went home to the dark, cold, empty house and waited for something to fight.

That was years ago. Decades, now.

To tell you the truth, though, I don't think anything has changed.

[mistydeyes]

Hit the showers with Soap? 👀👀 he’d 100% do something like that! He’d definitely get chewed out by price or ghost lol

YES ANON 100% he is literally such a shithead this was so written for him

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: hit the showers (18+) - a prank ends with you getting your clothes and towel stolen

pairing: Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, mild nudity, sexual depictions

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"Alright I'm gonna hit the showers," you called as you exited the sparring and training room, "put some ice on that Garrick." You turned and smiled as you saw Gaz flipping you off in the corner of your eye. Another successful training session where you kicked Gas's ass and then were absolutely taken out by Ghost. Your body ached as you walked into the locker room. The gym showers were practically empty so you walked to your locker and grabbed a fresh change of clothes and your shower caddy. You placed your clothes on a bench adjacent to the stall and peeled off your issued shirt and threw your shorts to the side. You rolled your sweaty shoulders before turning on the warm water and savoring the sensation. You were accustomed to quick showers or lack thereof on the field but you always took your time when back on base.

As you shampooed your hair and faced the shower head, you could hear the thud of feet entering. You knew it was a public space so you were unbothered by the interruption. "Water's hot today," you called out to the other soldier but they didn't reply. You shrugged as you continued your routine, tying your hair up after you conditioned and using the bar soap to clean your bruised body. Eventually, after 10 minutes, you turned off the shower and cracked the curtain to reach for your towel. As your damp hands felt only the cold tile instead of the fluffy object, you assumed in your haste you might have left it on the bench. However as you exited with a cloud of steam, your eyes fell on the bench with no clothes or towel in sight. "What the fuck?" you said aloud and walked towards your locker leaving a trail of wet footprints. After angrily throwing it open, you found that it was empty. Now you know someone was really fucking with you and you had your suspicions. You angrily grabbed a damp towel from the laundry bin and stormed off to the men's barracks.

Your first arrival was to Soap and Gaz's room. You pounded on the door as you heard Gaz yell that he was coming. The minute he opened the door, you shoved past him and stood with your towel wrapped around your body. "Who the fuck took them?" you yelled as your angry gaze shifted from him and Soap who was leisurely sitting on his bed. "What are you talking about?" Gaz asked as you felt his gaze on you. "Can it, Garrick," you commanded, "where the hell are my things?" Soap couldn't deny how hot you looked at the moment, clad in a small towel, dripping wet, and absolutely fuming. "You fucker," you whispered as you saw your gym clothes haphazardly sticking out underneath his bed. You ran over and bent down to grab them, not caring that your towel slowly dipped as you reached under the bed. As you looked up, you couldn't help but notice something new growing in his shorts. Now, you were extra pissed. You then proceeded to hold your clothes in one arm and smack Soap with the other. As he yelped in pain, two more individuals joined to see what the commotion was about.

"What's going on here?" you heard Price shout as you stopped your attack. You turned around as you held your towel around your figure tighter. "Mactavish thought it was a brilliant idea to take my shit while I was in the shower," you fumed as you could feel his eyes stare at your ass. You took the opportunity to turn around quickly and plant a slap on his cheek. There was an audible groan following that. "You and me, tomorrow, in the ring," you spat before you walked towards the door. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to take another shower," you said politely and walked past the staring eyes of your team.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear the lashing the Sergeant was getting. First, it was Price reprimanding him for sneaking into the female quarters and stealing your clothes. Then it was Ghost who yelled about the fact you had to walk through the halls in a dirty towel. In between the loud voices, you could hear Gaz laugh and reply. You couldn't help but smile when he said, "She should've slapped you harder after that."

[leeknowlover99]

Enhypen MTL to enjoy public sex

warnings: explicit content

masterlist

Heesung

it is not even the fact that Heesung would be into public sex or exhibisionism but he would always be horny and needy so it would be bound to happen anyways.

you visited Heesung in the company as you had plans after his practice. you were going for the fancy dinner and you wore your favorite red short dress which happened to be Hee’s favorite too. “fuck i just can’t wait” he said pushing you to an empty practice room. “why you gotta come here in that short dress looking so gorgeous” he muttered while reaching for your panties and connecting your lips in a rushed filthy kiss. “needy are we?” you tsked at him while palming his erection and looking at him eyes full of lust. “i could cum just by looking at you” he said. Hee swiftly turned you around so you faced the wall and dropped on his knees to kiss your thighs and lick your dripping arousal. moan escaped your lips. “be quite baby” he slapped your clothes core and continued.

Jake

I think he would be down if he was in a mood, thrill of possibility of getting caught and change from routine would turn him on a lot.

you and Jake were at the club with your friends. you hit the dance floor and slower more sensual songs played. alcohol buzzing in your body, you swayed your hips and looked at your boyfriend and pointed at him with your finger, inviting him to dance with you. he quickly hugged you from behind and slowly moved his hips against you. his hands exploring your body lazily. you grinded your ass slowly feeling him grow hard. you felt his warm hand gently grab you by jaw and turn your head to connect your lips. he kissed you hard and wet and you instantly knew he’s very much in the mood. you bit his lip teasingly and chased his tongue moaning in his lips. “bathroom now?” he asked you right after with the devilish grin on his face. you followed him instantly.

Sunghoon

he would not be opposed to it but it wouldn’t happen often, only when he would be in a specific mood.

it was a hot summer day and you and Sunghoon went for a bike trip. soon you got tired and decided to stop and rest on the small field. you planted down a blanket and lied down together. “babe your dress is riding up” your boyfriend noticed after a while and tried to pull the material down. “but no one is here and i want to get some tan” you protested and pulled the dress even higher, almost exposing your panties to him. Sunghoon rose his brow at you but did not say anything. however you noticed he became a bit tense, fingers caressing your waist and hips. “are you okay?” you asked and instead of answering he leaned down and kissed you. it was slow and shy at first but when you pulled him on top of you and kissed him harder he became more needy. kissing down your neck his hands started playing with your breast’s. “do you want to get tanned here too?” he asked teasingly pulling down your dress. “I can help with that.”

Jay

Jay would be against it to the extent where he would get mad at you if you tried to start something or tease him in public. usually he would either turn you down or take you home to have his way with you but sometimes he just snapped.

“can’t you just wait until we’re home?” Jay asked clearly mad at you when you left the company building. in the morning you send him nudes and now you teased him during practice and he was not having it. “i just miss you, it’s been so long” you whined on your way to the car. “it doesn’t mean you can do things like that in front of everyone” he wouldn’t even look at you. you reached the car and he went for the drivers seat not even opening the door for you like he always used to do. you pulled him by his arm and when he finally faced you with annoyed expression you pushed him against the car and connected your lips. you kissed him like the women possessed and whispered things in his ear “need you so bad. wanna suck your dick, want you to push my head and make me choke until I cry.” he groaned gripping you ass hard enough to leave bruises. “backseat now. and be fucking quiet.”

[themochiverse]

The Monster Under the Bed | KNJ

➳ Pairing: yan!nightmare!demon!nj x fem!reader

➳ Genre: Yandere, Horror, Monster Au

➳ Warnings: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, mentions of tera-phphobia (fear of monsters), childhood abuse and trauma, mention of an alcoholic parent, gore, violence, blood, injuries, asphyxiation, gagging, NON-CON kissing and touching (not sexually), Namjoon degrades the reader a bit, supernatural torment, physical harm to the reader, the reader goes a bit crazy, mentions of soul-eating?…. Anyways

➳ Synopsis: When a human falls asleep they face two realms: the dream and nightmare world— where one is controlled by the angels to kiss you goodnight, and the other controlled by unknown creatures that push behind your darkest fears. So when your constant fear of monsters hiding under your bed continues to grow in your life, one peculiar nightmarish friend becomes infatuated to keep it that way.

➳ Word Count: 6.7k+

➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

The Monster Under the Bed ©Copyright -2024- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that uses anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

A/N: Fuck my lazy ass, I got it done, and I hope the story is good! I wasn’t bothered to add a banner cuz I was too excited to post, I’ll add one later one. Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94 @trashlord-007

You're asleep.

Head tucked in gently in the crevice of your elbow, the soft quilt tangled by your ankles as you parted your dry lips open, swallowing the icy air. After a long day of work exhaustion crept up on you, and once your head hit the pillow— like a spell chanted on you, you fell asleep. Subtle chirps could be heard from outside your fogged-up window but you wouldn't notice it anyway. As your body was at rest, your mind was yoked within a dream.

The breeze howled in your ear and your legs dangling from the old wooden bridge you sat on. The moon hid behind the thick clouds, ultimately bringing darkness to surround you. The field behind you swayed in the wind, and the tall grass whispered as they shook together.

Snap

Your head spun around to the impulsive noise, and your heart dropped. From a good distance stood an old man. He was decorated with long boots and a hat that covered his face. Your eyes followed his arm, it was clenched on an object so tightly that you recognised it within a second. It was a liquor bottle.

You knew him, you knew who he was.

“Y/N,” his voice dropped and trembled, “have you seen daddy’s new bottle?”

He stomped his foot, walking over to you with rage building up inside him. Instinctively, you got up and ran straight to the empty field, your bare feet facing any prick that came along the way. You could hear his footsteps getting closer but you won’t turn your head. You will never turn your head to see him.

But you stopped in your tracks as the sight of the old man appeared in front of you again. He raised his bottle high in the air, and you cowered in fear, covering your face as he was about to strike. You shrieked waiting for the impact, but it never came. Instead, your mind felt dizzy when your eyes opened to the familiar surroundings.

Old drawings of animals were stuck on the wall, the vanity mirror was disguised with dust and there were the broken scars on a cupboard next to your old bed.

Your childhood room.

With haste, you trudged to the door to leave but it creaked shut, and darkness clouded your sight. Your hands fiddled with a butterfly lamp that was on the bedside table, and your fingers wriggled to find the switch.

The insects cried, the wind roared and something whispered. You froze at that, and your eyes followed the gap under the bed. You gulped, clenching your fist as your nails dug deep into your skin.

Nothing is there Y/N, nothing is there—

“Are you sure?” A hoarse voice rumbled and you flinched. Your heart pounded as you felt your body giving up on you. Your legs shook and they dropped to the floor as you felt yourself being dragged to the dreaded place that has practically haunted you for your whole life.

“No…” you mumbled, “Please no!”

Red eyes blinked at you, and they glinted in mischief. A snarl vibrates and a long black hand appears—claws lingering within the air before it grasps your chin, bringing your face closer to him.

“Aren't you a pretty little thing?”

You couldn't see the creature that spoke to you but you shivered at its touch. The energy was drained from your body and your mind went fuzzy. This creature’s touch left a numb feeling in your head. Void. Alone. But alone with him. Your eyes could only witness the darkness within and your hands weakly clutched onto the dirty bedsheets as you felt this creature pull you closer.

“Still scared? Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” The voice left hot words in your ear and your neck stiffened at the comment. How the fuck does it know?

With little courage, you spoke.

“What do you want from me?”

A deep chuckle erupted in the room, and the grip on your chin loosened a bit.

“My, my, this is the first question you wanted to ask me? Very well, I’ll answer honestly for you,” his other hand came to caress your cheek, “You see, I'm very picky when it comes to what type of humans I want to devour. There's just something in your soul that's very precious to me, and it would be very precious to any other creature too—“

Your hands grabbed onto the cold claws that held your face, and you tried to get out of his hold. Your breathing quickened. What did he just say? Devouring humans? You struggled futilely in his hold, your clammy palms soon gave up. The grip on your chin tensed this time, and they hushed you with ease.

“Shh, my darling. Let me continue before I let you go,” the creature hummed before proceeding, “In other words, I want you and your soul. I want to be with you forever.”

Your eyes widened at those proclamations and the claw that was settled against your cheek crawled up to your forehead.

“Now wake.”

You gasped as you jolted in your bed. Sweat stuck to the back of your shirt, your body was burning and you felt suffocated. It was just a nightmare Y/N, just a fucking nightmare. You slid off your bed and a fluffy brown tail tickled your legs. Your body hunched as you stared at your adorable cat.

“Morning Max, you need some breakfast?” The cat blinked its eyes slowly before calling out to you as it walked out of your room. You sighed, stretching as you went after your pet into the kitchen. The sun was covered by clouds and the day groaned dimly.

Max purred as you grabbed the packet of food and began to pour it into his favourite bowl. His head dived in, and tiny crunches escaped from his small mouth. You squeezed the packet in your hand, the slippery texture on your palms was still there. You tapped your foot impatiently as the remembrance of the sudden nightmare continued to dawn on you.

This didn't feel right, the nightmare felt way too realistic. And how would a monster know about your past? Maybe it was understandable, you had a traumatic childhood and your combined phobia was already monstrous. It was unsettling though, the way it grabbed your face and talked to you. Especially how you immediately felt weak by its presence..anyone would get chills from it.

Ding.

A chime vibrated from your phone as you checked it.

Rosewood Clinic: Scheduled Appointment at 9:45 am with Doctor Link. Please arrive 20 minutes earlier. If you wish to cancel or reschedule please call us at xxx-xxx-xx

Right, the appointment. You completely forgot about it, and now you have more to discuss with your doctor.

Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?

“Daddy, can we please go to the fair today? Please?” You pouted at your father, begging him to go to the country fair.

“Alright, we’ll go. Call your mama for me?” He asked and you smiled happily as you went to get your mum.

“Mama! Mama! Guess what? Daddy said we’re going to the fair today.” You exclaimed proudly, giggling when your mother picked you up in her arms. Her hair shone in the sunlight, and she kissed your cheek softly.

“That’s great news sweetie, come on your father must be waiting.”

Your family arrived at the fair, and loud country music rang in your ears. There were multiple rides and food stalls, vibrant colours and the laughter of children brought merriment. The scent of fresh food and screams echoed in the background as you had the opportunity to roam free.

“Y/N, come here. Daddy here is gonna win a prize for you,” your father gleefully said before he resumed the challenge he had to face. You watched with big eyes as your father held small darts, his arm flexed before he threw them.

Pop

Pop

Pop

The small balloons popped and a medium teddy bear is given to your dad.

“Here ya go princess.” With a chaste kiss to your cheek you laugh, holding tight onto the teddy bear. The fun day went by fast, your father had you in his arms and you rested your head on his shoulder. The noises from the fair soon disappeared as your family inched closer to the parking lot.

“Hey there partner, it's been a while, hasn't it?”

A gruff voice spoke out from the shadows and your dad halted in his tracks. The streetlight dimmed the place an ugly yellow. You felt two arms pull you away from your dad’s grasp and you were with your mother now.

“What the hell do you want Rodrick?”

“Have you forgotten to pay your debt? Did ya get too carried away with our money?” The man named Rodrick gestured towards you and your mum, and his eyes travelled to the fair.

“Leave them out of this.”

“Give me the fucking money, I know you have it.”

“I don't have it—”

“Give me the fucking money or I’ll shoot them!”

Rodrick pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at you both. Your mother hugged you, turning your head to the side as goosebumps drove all over her.

“Hey…hey, lets talk about this okay? This is between you and me, leave my family alone,” your dad said calmly as he eyed the gun, “put the gun down Rodrick—”

“No! Do you know the shit I had to go through because of you? They beat me up and killed my brother, you think that ain't enough till they come for me? I need the money now, give me the money.”

Your dad took a step forward, his hands were in the air as he inched closer to Rodrick.

“The fuck you doing man? I said give me the money!” The gun swung to your father as he was close to grasping the object.

“Don’t come closer or I’ll shoot.” Rodrick’s hand shook and his lips trembled. He was going to die soon, he needed the money desperately.

You peeked your head to the side and saw your father lunge at the man as they both fell to the ground. They wrestle on the ground, your father trying to get the gun off of Rodrick.

“Get to the car!” Your father yelled and your mother ran with you. The sight of your father fighting gets smaller and smaller as you're close to approaching the car.

Bang

A gasp echoed in the background, like a silent serpent ready to strike before falling to its own downfall. Crows cawed and the birds flew away from nearby trees. Like a tower descending, your mother fell on top of you.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

Your head shook off the thoughts as you stared at your doctor. You had zoned out before you had realised it, and with a fake smile, you responded.

“Sorry, I—”

“It’s alright Y/N, sometimes we remember the things we don't want to see. Tell me how your week has been.”

A clock ticked in the room and you stared at the pale woman. Her black hair almost went grey as she tried to keep a straight posture.

“Um, nothing much. Just work keeping me busy, and I've been getting a couple of nightmares lately.”

The scritching of paper caught your ears as you watched Doctor Link write down the things you mentioned.

“Nightmares, I see. I assume it's still because of your father or?” A long pause was held in the air before you replied.

“Still because of my dad, which I don't know why because I stopped having them a while ago, so I thought it would stop.”

“Okay, we've discussed this before Y/N, due to the abuse and trauma you faced at a young age, the memories we've collected can sometimes—”

“Monsters too. My phobia of monsters made it worse.”

“Okay, tell me about the nightmare then.”

You squeezed your hands together, the sweat starting to form again.

“…and then I was back at that place, and there was this whispering coming from my bed. For some reason, my body just dropped and this claw grabbed onto my face. It spoke to me, saying that it wants to be with me forever..”

Scratch

Scratch

A loud sigh poured out from the doctor’s mouth, “Y/N, the phobia you have is because it was transformed by your dad. Ultimately as this is a nightmare, the things you say about this monster, are not real. It isn't real, and it’s not going to harm you. I can guarantee you that.”

You rubbed your palms together, the voice inside you wanting to rip you apart for not speaking up.

It felt real, too real.

You’re back home, frustration building up inside you. Maybe the doctor was right, it was just a nightmare. With past events and your stupid phobia, it just made you a mess. You wondered what the monster looked like, all you could see was a black void and long black hands. But you should be glad you didn’t see its face, after all, only the devil disguises its impurity.

Max is asleep on the couch, the fluff ball in a vulnerable position. You grinned at the sight of him, taking a photo. The house felt quiet since you lived alone, and that nightmare, gosh that fucking nightmare keeps haunting you like a freak.

You decided to enter your bedroom, eyes automatically clinging to the gap underneath the wooden exterior. It’s fucking childish, why would you be scared of something like a ridiculous monster?

They’re not real, they’re not supposed to be real. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you knelt, crouching and angling your head to the side to get a better glimpse of the number of things you put in there.

Just enough to block the gap, just enough to make you feel safe. It was like a shield to protect you, but little did you know that shield would come crumbling down because of you.

There were a couple of old boxes, empty perhaps, and decorative pieces to make it look messy. You kept staring at the very back endlessly, your room was dark, with the curtains drawn— you made a mistake.

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto your carpet thread as you swear you saw something blink at you. The house is dead, and the longer you stare at the dark end, the more you see the eyes. Though, they weren’t red this time but a dull white. Almost grey, but it blinked.

“Y/N…”

No… not now. What you heard can’t be real.

“Get the fuck out of my head,” you mumbled to yourself. A sudden urge grew deep within you, you needed something.

Wine

You needed some wine.

You jumped out of that position, drawing the curtains open to bring some light into the room. You gnawed on your thumbnail as you practically ran out of the room. You could hear your heart racing, the blood pumping faster and faster as you opened the wine cabinet.

Unscrewing the bottle, you poured a full glass, swallowing a tremendous amount of the crimson liquid as it trickled down your chin.

You sunk to the floor as you hugged your knees, your back rested against the cabinet. Fucking phobia, what Doctor Link had mentioned…. Was it true? Did this phobia happen because of your dad, or were you always just a fucking coward?

The grip on your wine glass tightened as you shut your eyes, hellish memories enveloping you like a greedy pig.

“This is all because of you!”

Slap

“Your Mother is dead because of you!”

Slap

“Get the fuck out of my sight, you keep reminding me of her. Get out before I fucking kill you.”

A bottle is thrown in your direction, and the glass stabbed into your skin makes you wobble. You felt numb, your body was bruised and battered at this point, and the blood that trickled from your forehead was damping your broken soul. When you fell with a thud, your father left, banging the doors shut.

Ironically unlike your mother, your father left you instead of running to you. Maybe there was no purpose to live anymore, you had no meaning, no goal or desire.

You should have died instead of your mother that night if you ever knew this would be the conclusion. Warm tears trailed down your face, they mixed with the blood as you stared at the ceiling.

It felt like staring at your mother, the same cold expression on her face as those tears continuously fell from her eyes before her final wheezes ceased.

Your father’s yell echoed in the background as your delicate hands cradled your mother’s soft cheeks. Except this time, there was no one to do that for you.

Your vision blurred, hoping that you would see your mother right now. It didn't matter if she appeared like a ghost, even if it sounded ridiculous.

Maybe she hated you for not taking her place. You're eyes scanned to a clock that ticked silently, and it was midnight. How much longer could you bear this?

You wanted to finally leave this hellhole. But you winced in pain, and the sound of the front doors opening made you freeze. Loud footsteps came closer as you saw your father’s dishevelled appearance.

“You’re still here?” He grunted as he plopped another box of vodka bottles onto a large table.

It was quick and painful as you felt your hair tugged upwards. Your hands weakly slapped your father’s rough wrists as he dragged you to your room upstairs.

“No, Daddy, please… I'm sorry.” Your eyes widened as he pushed you into your room, locking the doors shut. It was utterly dark, all the lights in your room were either torn apart by your father or destroyed by him.

You slid onto your bed, shielding yourself with the dirty covers as you shook. You always heard a voice whenever this happened, and one night you saw the thing that spoke to you.

It looked like a human and you caught the slightest glimpse of it before hell broke loose. Their skin glowed, and a white t-shirt was worn as they walked across your room. You remembered what he wore so well, yet you didn't remember him.

Your eyes opened as your butt began to feel sore. The glass was empty and only the stains of the red wine remained. Your body felt drained, the memories collapsed on you and you struggled to get up.

You trudged to your room quietly, closing the door shut as you crawled into your bed. Like a train coming to its last destination, your memories do the same, you don’t remember what happened after you were locked in your room.

It wasn't too long before you went back again to the realms, too bad they were interconnected.

When you trembled in your bed that night, the blood soaking the pillow, Namjoon grinned. Not because of what terrible consequence you had faced, but because he finally found a perfect person like you.

He spent years devouring the souls of many individuals but neither ever satisfied his hunger at all. He could keep as many humans as he would like, and he had the choice to not kill them. If he had you, he didn't need to waste more years to find another suitable victim.

He didn't know how he was entranced by you at first, maybe it was the way you'd brush your hair or how you tried to smile after suffering from your injuries. But you caught his eye, his heart would race whenever he saw you.

But rage took over him whenever he saw your father beat you, even though he had the power to do something, he already sensed that your father was going to be dead soon anyway.

He was really hungry that night, starving himself on purpose just so he could get a taste of your sweet soul, consume the euphoric feeling of your fear so he felt energised enough to convince you to stay with him.

But would you?

He didn’t mean to go overboard, he just really needed to have a bit of your soul. It wasn’t going to harm you any way and he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he needs to live too.

The sudden harsh whispers and calls of your name made you shiver and Namjoon watched in delight. He needed to transform and watch your beautiful expressions fall into place.

Oh, it was terrible, terribly good.

“Sweetie….my baby, Y/N?” You stiffened at the familiar feminine voice that came from underneath your bed. It couldn't be true, your mother was dead. But… did she listen to your prayers to God?

Hesitantly you replied, “Mama? Is that you?” Your voice shook as you waited for a response.

“My darling, why didn't you save me? Look at how miserable your father is.” Her voice wavered in the air and you swore you could feel her presence right beside you. Her words scarred into your mind, this didn’t sound like her at all.

Without hesitation, you pulled the covers off of you in a rush, and your heart dropped at the sight of darkness in front of you. Your mother was not here, then how the hell did you hear her voice?

“Y/N…?” You froze and your breaths started to become quick. You glanced down from the side of your bed, the voice was coming from there. Your knuckles were tense and white when you gripped your blanket, there’s no fucking way.

Silence clouded your sense of hearing as a long black claw stretched out from underneath the bed, its nails scratched the wooden floor before it rushed back.

Your breath hitched as you felt a cold exhale next to your ear. You bit your bottom lip harshly, chewing on the spot as you craned your neck slowly. Your pulse quickened when you saw the figure.

Their eyes glimmered in the dark and you gasped, an audible yell for help prepared to leave from your throat.

But he lunged at you, one inhuman hand pinning your wrists tightly above your head while the other was clamped over your mouth.

Your screams were muffled by his long black claws as you writhed underneath him. His demonic form took over, and red eyes blinked into yours as he watched your head snap upwards. His red eyes stared at you with adoration, God you were so cute. He shushed you softly as he wiped your tears.

“If I let go, promise you won't scream?”

You calmed yourself down a bit as he removed his hand away from your mouth. He delicately traced your quivering lips, grinning at the sight of your compliance.

“I know you're scared sweetheart, but you need to be a good girl for me, yeah? I've been watching over you for a while now, and you're such a good person. But you need someone, a bit of healing and protection to make you feel less lonely. I've come to offer that, I'll heal you and protect you in exchange for a bit of your soul.”

This thing had been watching you? For how long?

The grip on your wrists loosened momentarily as he leaned closer to you. Your eyes scanned its features—if you removed the black claws and the red eyes, it almost looked human.

“But the thing is, you have no say in this anyway. I nearly killed myself because of you, starving to death to finally have you. Don't you feel guilty? Making a poor monster like me wait for a long time to taste your soul?”

Namjoon wanted you to feel bad, and miserable for him. He chuckled softly, you were a monster too for making him suffer like that.

You felt your body sink into the mattress further, wrists weakly wriggling in his iron-grip hold.

“I just need you to listen to me, and everything will be okay.”

He grabbed your cheeks, squeezing them harshly so you could open your lips.

“Come on baby, open wide for me,” he murmured and he pushed one claw deep inside your open mouth.

You gagged repeatedly as you felt it go down your throat, and your mind fogged with pain. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, your lungs restricting any oxygen to escape. It hurt for a split second like something was being removed from your body entirely. It was solid and rough with jagged edges, your throat started to burn as panic settled in.

You couldn’t breathe.

You watched the thing turn more demonic, and it hovered over you as you helplessly felt too tired and weak to even do anything at this point. Your eyes blurred as you felt suffocated, and your heart pumped wildly.

Your mouth was wide open as you exhaled a heavy breath and a clear cloud-like bubble came out. The claw was soon withdrawn and you gasped for air.

You thought it was over, heck no, you thought it was fake. But he was still here, right in front of you. Black hair covered its demonic look as it devoured the bubble in one go.

You froze in fear, tears falling from your face as it looked at you.

“Such a sweet soul,” he murmured before lowering his face, “would you mind if I had more?”

Before you could even protest or utter a scream, you felt his dangerous hands crawl up your thigh, his sharp claws piercing through your skin lightly. It burned with every stroke, and you whimpered. His touch was numbing your mind, but you could still feel the pain ripping through you.

“Shh, be a good girl for me,” his hand wrapped around your throat, “and don’t fucking scream.”

You felt his cold lips on yours, his claws continued with their marks as they neared your chest. You realised too late that not only was your mind numb, but your body was paralysed. You couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t do anything to escape from this hell.

Your fingertips twitched when he shoved his tongue inside your mouth, and his claws finally reached the centre of your stomach.

At first, it was like multiple thumbtacks were piercing your body that soon felt like large knives sinking inside of you. Your eyes widened when you saw his sharp claws press into your stomach, the blood escaping as almost half of his hand was inside. You felt your insides twisting as a muffled, hoarse scream erupted from your mouth and Namjoon swallowed it all, pressing even deeper.

He was sucking the life out of you, his claws finally grasping onto a bit of your soul. His kiss was a form of intimacy, but it was much easier to consume your fear like this.

Mind numb, body paralysed, all under his control as he shamelessly sucked more of your already broken soul. It almost felt like you were dying. Once he removed his bloody claws, your teary-eyed expression remained as he finally removed himself from you.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

The soft breeze cooled your body as you sat on a rock, watching the waves crash into the shorelines. It felt peaceful, magical almost. The high view of the far distance between the sea, and the cliff was pretty high too.

He could sense you. He could feel the happiness radiating from you once he stepped into the dream realm. Namjoon successfully got to get rid of the angels that were guarding the entrance of their world.

He must admit that the bright colours of this place were oddly fascinating. Light pink hues dusted with white clouds and scenery? Wow, it was nothing compared to the nightmare world. Nothing.

Namjoon’s land was far more different and special. It was like an abandoned location with monsters lurking around in the shadows. Thunderstorms were constant and daily, the sky as grey as a rock.

Ever since the Lord of Demons was able to break the barrier between the two realms, it has made easier access for any creature to be able to snatch their victims while they were dreaming.

They were ruthless, and greedy and had unimaginable appearances that would make your heart stop. Even if there were Guardian Angels, protecting their realm— demons like Namjoon were always able to come through discretely.

He wondered if he were able to glitch into your world so that he could easily have you to himself. Those sleep paralysis demons were extremely lucky.

He reminisces about the first time he got to taste your soul. You wouldn't understand the emotions that rushed through his body, he felt so high around you that the moment he stepped away after decorating your body crimson—he could only think about you.

With the recent interaction of finally getting to you after a narrow escape from the Guardian Angels, Namjoon felt relieved.

It almost broke his heart when you tried to escape from his grasp that day, his claws menacingly trying to provoke a reaction out of you.

He thought you would have recalled instantly ever since the first night he devoured a bit of your soul and left you with deep gushed marks of his claim on you. He didn't want to show himself deliberately because he thought you would know. That you would recognise him.

Maybe your father hit your head a bit too hard with the metal bat in the barn after he saw the medical bills.

The next day he watched alongside you. He watched the way your father hung from a big tree, the noose around his neck was stout and it was perfectly wrapped around his neck like a present.

Namjoon noticed the dead look in your eyes and a deranged smile crept up on your face.

You and he were a match made in heaven.

Namjoon could see you from afar, the way your body relaxed in this realm… if you could only do the same in his one. He quietly approached you, silently sitting next to you as his fingertips brushed your hand.

You flinched at the subtle contact and you snapped your head, eyes scanning the unknown person.

He looked familiar, with black hair and a white shirt, you swear you've seen someone like that before.

“Who are you?” You stared at the gorgeous man in front of you, his dragon eyes alluring you.

“We met before.” His voice drifted silkily into your ears.

“We did? Uhm, what's your name?” You responded as you thought hard about where you last saw him.

“I'm Namjoon, and you're Y/N.” A pang hit your stomach, how did he know your name?

“How do you know my name?”

“Like I said, we met before.” His voice almost felt recognisable, did you actually meet this man before?

Namjoon sighed, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s such a shame you don't remember me, do I really have to remind you?”

Your lips almost twitched into a frown, you didn't like the way he was staring at you.

“Listen—”

“Didn’t Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”

Your eyes widened and your breath shook, “what did you just say?”

“I said didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” Namjoon repeated the words deliberately and slowly as he smiled. Your mind went into a frenzy, and your pulse quickened. It was him, the creature that constantly grew your fear.

You get up quickly, and he does too, the next words making you sick in the stomach.

“Were the claws too much? You know I was sorry, I would never hurt you love, it's part of the process for me to live for your soul.”

You began to walk backwards, his words hammering you like a nail. After all these years, the monster that tormented you so badly that your phobia was initially created was here, right in front of you. You finally saw his face. Innocent like an angel, but a devil within the heart.

“Do you remember now? Do you remember the way I had your soul? Shit, your dad knocked you out so hard that after this many years, you finally remember me.”

You stopped in your tracks, your head turning to the side when you realised you were on the edge of a cliff. Out of nowhere, grabbing onto your shoulders, Namjoon’s voice echoed and rang in your ears.

“Don’t leave me, you can’t forget about me again.”

“I won’t leave you alone like your father did, isn’t it good riddance that he killed himself?” There’s no way he’s been with you this whole time.

He pushed you back gently, each wavering step making you sick in the stomach.

“I want to stay with you forever,” he rested his head on your shoulder and you flinched, “you're a precious person to me, you make me feel better that I can have you, in any way I want.” You jerked, trying to elude from his iron-tight grip.

“I love you Y/N, I'm hopelessly in love with you.”

His words come crashing down as you lose your step right at the end of the cliff. You screamed as you felt a hand snatch your wrist. You gripped onto Namjoon’s wrist, your life depending on it. You weren't sure why he wasn't pulling you up—

He chuckled deeply, “Stupid girl, did you forget that you're in a dream? If I let go of you right now, do you think you're going to wake up or drown?” He cruelly stared down at you as he held your wrist.

He kneeled so you were face to face, “But I think it'd be much better if we fell together, don't you think?”

Your eyes broadened at the statement, blood rushing to your head. You shook your head, you pleaded at him,

“Namjoon, wait don't do this—”

Ignoring your words, you felt him let go of you as he jumped off the cliff. You watched him fall as your back hit the icy ocean, the water already trying to engulf your throat.

You jolted awake, shuddering from the nightmare you had just faced. Your back was wet with sweat, and as you were sitting up…

Thud.

Someone grabbed your neck from behind, feeling invisible hands wrapped around your throat. Your head hit the pillow again as you struggled to get up. He was holding you down, there's no way he came like this without a dream.

You claw at your neck, shutting your eyes when you suddenly see yourself back in the ocean. You could feel the water getting into your lungs, and someone had gripped your ankle. You saw Namjoon pulling you deeper and deeper into the abyss as you cried for help, words muffled by the water.

You opened your eyes and they started to blur. Panic grew as your heart pumped, feeling the dreaded emotion you never wanted to experience again. You couldn't breathe, it was like your oxygen was being sucked away.

You wriggled your body to grab anything and your hands stretched to whatever was on the nightstand. You couldn't see but your hands tapped on the lamp that was facing your way, and a ray of light burst.

Within a second, the feeling of invisible hands disappeared and you rolled over, choking as you threw up… water. Lots of water.

You groaned weakly as you heaved your breaths. The door to your bedroom was wide open and the hallway was extremely dark. You needed to get out. You shakily looked through the drawers and found a small torch. Turning it on you left your room to look for your cat, calling his name.

“Max! Max, where are you—”

You came to a halt, and your knees almost buckled.

“Isn’t he adorable?” His voice made your bottom lip quiver. You shook your head, tears rushing to your eyes. You couldn't believe this, there he was, sitting on your couch next to your cat. Namjoon turned to look at you and his eyes were black, a murderous intent glinted from the look on his face.

“You can't run away from me, ever.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s gone and silence filled up the whole house. Max then hissed as his eyes darted behind your shoulder. Your heart sank when you realised who he was hissing at.

An external force threw you back to your room, causing you to shriek. Your back hit the wall, knocking the breath out of you. The door slammed shut and you staggered in pain and your eyes flickered to the lamp. A hushed whisper attained your ear as you heard a crack and the light died out.

It was too dark in your room, and you luckily had the torch in your hand. You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. What about the windows? You rush over to the other side of the room, and your hands draw the curtain open only to come to a sight with no window. You almost drop your torch as you bite your lip.

It was just a solid wall.

“No—fuck, why—” Your voice croaked as you slammed your fist against the wall. Soon you realised why the house was so dark and why the lamp broke. Does he hate light? The thought lingered on your mind till you heard a shuffle from across the room. You swayed your torch to the side and held your breath as there was nothing there.

A low growl could be heard from under the bed as you shone the light there. All of the things you placed to block the gap were gone. Impossible, fuck your mind was going crazy. The light on your torch began to blink repeatedly, and you smacked the torch a couple of times.

“No, no no, don't die.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you managed to keep the light until it flickered one last time. Your breath affixed as there was complete darkness, and you gulped.

Screech.

Warm tears sprang free from the corner of your eyes and you quivered in place.

He was going to get you, he was going to get you, he was going to get you.

Maybe you should check the door again, just in case. Even before you could react, Namjoon’s lengthy, black claw snatched onto your ankle, yanking you in fast.

Your screams echoed as you disappeared the moment you were dragged underneath the bed. Your eyes opened to an unknown place, but it was still dark. Your body ached with every movement you tried to muster.

Namjoon appeared in front of you, his demeanour frightening you as he used his claws to turn your head to the side. A dim yellow light glinted in the dark ahead of you and you couldn't believe what you were witnessing.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Did you check the bed? I think I saw a boy my age last night.”

A small laugh vibrated from your father’s throat as he crouched down at your request. He got back up, caressing your cheek.

“Come on sweetie, didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”

Click.

The lights turned off and the door closed shut. It was dark again.

Namjoon shifted around as you felt him lay down next to you, wrapping one arm around your waist tightly and the other still holding your face in place. He could feel your heart pounding furiously as his claw began to recreate the same process when he had you for the first time.

Your mind started to go fuzzy and your body went numb and his claw crawled closer to your mouth.

Namjoon whispered into your ear, and his heart grew at the sight of finally having you to himself, “You know, you shouldn’t fear the monsters that are under your bed, you should fear those that hide under your pillow and crawl into your head.”

[sophie-frm-mars]

Into the projected corn field

I dunno I just feel like before I can even form an opinion on the Fallout TV series I have to do something to try and get through the haze of disgust, emptiness, anger, nausea and desperation that I feel sitting at home alone watching a TV show based on the insipid corporatised franchise that was based on the highly original and artful world in which one of the (and then two of the, and then New Vegas of the) best games ever made were set in. I'm not feeling any of those feelings at the show, I just have to feel all those feelings before I can feel any feelings about the show, because everything being made is Intellectual Property instead of art, and we've spent all this time discussing AI art when everything being made is already being made by the algorithmic logics of capital. All the same things we find troubling in the idea of inhuman heuristics deciding what art is produced and how and by who are already true - we aren't watching a show about the hubris of our society and nuclear annihilation because someone (anyone) thought there would be something poignant to say in it, something to explore in our moment, we're watching it because Amazon executives knew that if they made it we'd watch and go "look, ghouls! like in the thing! and mutants! like the thing from the thing!"

The original Fallout games were made in and around and after the neoliberal end of history, the ultimate period of peace and prosperity in western capitalist society and imagined an absurd world based on the penultimate period of american imperialist peace and prosperity playing out into an almost inevitable post-apocalyptic nightmare world where the same rubrick of control and domination that led to the destruction of society in the first place constantly tries to reassert itself over a hobbesian wasteland full of strange, silly, kind, funny, odd people whose human tendency towards care and altruism makes an endless mockery of the kill-or-be-killed nature of the wasteland that mocks it right back.

In the first episode the vault dwellers gather in a simulated corn field. It's an actual corn field, they're growing actual corn in it, but the horizon and sky are projected onto the vault walls to create the only wider world the subterranean human beings will ever see, and I just... hope that someone gets what I hope anyone ever gets out of art no matter how it's produced. I hope it makes you realise that love and the revolution are the only meanings in being alive, and I hope you get that from Rothko and I hope you get that from EpicLlama's Midjourney feature film sponsored by Dogecoin, and I hope you get that from Akira and I hope you get that from Spy Kids 3D. I just think about being in a moment right between the pandemic and the collapse of the conglomerate capitalist empire watching people on a screen seeing a better world projected on a screen and I feel gut wrenchingly alienated from other human beings, but I acknowledge that could just be me.

How am I supposed to feel about Walton Goggins' performance as a half rotted rubber cowboy man? I don't fucking know man. My opinion is this show is making me derealise.

[nadvs]

(sends self ask to write alternate ending blurb for watch and learn where reader ends up with blake) (lots of hurt!) (no comfort!)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

alternate sad ending to watch and learn series. based on this ask! takes place the day they’re at the beach in part eight

When Blake kisses you, everything you’ve been waiting and hoping for falls into place. His lips fit against yours perfectly, his hands hold your hips under the water so sweetly, and when you pull back, his smile melts your heart.

He’s slow and gentle with every move, making time stop.

When you’re back on the shore, he puts a warm, heavy arm around you, unafraid of showing you affection and claiming you in public. Unafraid of everything Rafe refuses to give you.

Conversation flows easy now, surely because he’s not shy about if you like him anymore. Now that he’s out of his shell, he’s even sweeter and funnier than you realized.

When Blake drops you off at your dorm, he turns off his car and takes a deep, shaky breath. You can tell he’s nervous by the way he smooths his hands over his legs.

“I wanted to tell you that I really like you,” he says. “And I’m sorry if I’m coming out of left-field here, but would you… do you want to be my girlfriend maybe?”

His nervousness is so damn endearing. This is what you’ve been missing with Rafe. Unashamed affection and a desire to commit. You breathe a happy yes and kiss him.

You’re in the shower when Rafe calls your name. You open the stall door with a confused expression, noticing how sad he looks, asking him what’s wrong.

He has already seen you naked so many times, but you hide behind the door. He can’t have this access to you anymore.

Rafe tries to push into the shower, desperate for one last time with you, but when your wet hand pushes against his chest, he swears he hears his heart break.

“We can’t do this anymore,” you tell him. “I’m with Blake.”

You think that if Rafe has any opportunity to tell you that he feels something deeper for you, now’s the time. But he just scoffs angrily, brows furrowing, shaking his head in disbelief.

By his reaction, you’re sure he’s just annoyed he can’t have great, easy sex with his neighbor anymore.

Rafe goes to the frat party that night, disgusted by the sight of you at Blake’s side. He’s grateful that a girl strikes up a conversation with him and he takes her home, fucking her the way you taught him to.

Eventually, though, he grows selfish and hasty in bed again once he realizes sex with someone he doesn’t feel connected to is empty.

Blake is overjoyed when you ask him to the Sadie Hawkins formal. Rafe doesn’t attend. But he sees the photo of you two together on Instagram and he wants to punch a wall.

You should have expected Rafe to be an asshole again after you stopped fucking around with him. You try to joke around with him every so often, but he always meets you with aloofness. You eventually give up.

You don’t know he’s so frigid because he’s dying inside watching you be happy with someone else.

He’s back to being loud in his dorm again, no matter how many times you text him to stop. You eventually tell the resident advisor who has to give him a warning.

Although he’s typically the loud one, Rafe hears you through your wall sometimes. He’s in agony when he hears the pretty laugh and sexy moans he used to earn. Someone else is making you do that now.

In a twisted way, he hopes you’re trying to make him jealous when you’re groaning in pleasure while you fuck Blake.

But it’s wishful thinking. Because you’ve genuinely written Rafe off and are falling for Blake, who’s sweet and sincere and kind to you.

Rafe moves into the frat house the next semester. He can’t even be happy that you don’t share a wall with him anymore because you’re always around.

Blake constantly has his arm draped around you. Rafe must hate himself, because he sometimes imagines you being like that with him. Being his girlfriend. He’d try the relationship thing with you if you wanted him.

But you don’t.

The spring camping trip is supposed to be frat brothers only. Of course you’re there, though. Blake wants you around all the time and he encourages the guys to bring their girls, too.

Everyone’s seated surrounding the bonfire the last evening of the trip and Rafe watches you on Blake’s lap, the flames shadowing and highlighting your beautiful features. What he’d give to kiss you one more time.

“You warm enough, baby?” Blake asks you. Rafe is seething. He used to call you baby. You don’t even seem to notice or give a fuck.

“Freezing. Hug me better,” you tease, smiling as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

Rafe has had too much to drink by the time the fire dies down. Everyone starts to retire to their cabins, but he catches you alone under the moonlight.

The feeling of his hand around your wrist makes the memories of your tryst come rushing back. He was such a good lover.

But you got what you wanted from each other. You have amazing sex with Blake because you learned how to be direct and confident in bed with Rafe.

“Hey,” he mutters lowly.

“What?” you ask, expecting his usual frigidity.

“Why’d you pick him?” He’s slurring.

“What?”

“It’s a simple question,” he replies.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” you tell him.

“Blake. Why’d you pick him? Why not…” He screws his lips together. “Me?”

“You?” you say, in disbelief. “For what? A relationship?”

Your tone cuts through him. Like the thought of loving him is so fucking crazy.

“You’re drunk,” you say with a laugh, twisting out of his grip.

“Tell me,” Rafe says.

“Rafe,” you mutter. He misses your voice saying his name. “Is this a sick joke? You told me at least a million times you don’t want a girlfriend. You’re losing it, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says through gritted teeth. Buddy. It’s so damn condescending. So far from what you once shared.

“What do I call you?” you reply. “A friend? You went back to treating me like shit once we stopped fucking, remember?”

“Because I was…” He steps back. Hot tears sprout out of his eyes without warning and he angrily wipes them away with the heels of his hands.

You’re taken aback to see him like this. To know you have this effect on him.

“I can treat you better,” Rafe says. “I can make you happier than he does.” In reality, he’s not sure at all if he can compete with Blake.

But he’d kill himself trying if you’d let him. He can see it in your eyes that you won’t.

The fact that he’s crying weakens the animosity you have for him a little bit. You decide to be totally honest.

“You had a chance,” you tell him. Rafe meets your eyes, his gaze hollow.

“You would’ve picked me?” he asks. Answering that feels almost like some form of cheating. So, you don’t.

“Listen, I love Blake,” you say. “And a relationship is a great thing if you open yourself up to it. You can find someone who can make you happy. I genuinely hope you do.”

Rafe huffs and brushes past you. You could make him happy. But he’ll never know that happiness.

He wishes he was drunk enough to forget this tomorrow. He’s not. He’s doomed to keep watching you walk around with his heart, breaking it every time he sees you and thinks about what could have been.

[bullet-prooflove]

5000 Follower Celebration: Field of Daisies - Mitch Ripley x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @spaghettificationandpretzels @mini-bee-bee @mandy426 @jareaulamontagnes

Companion piece to:

Seperation!Series:

Marley 2.0 - Mitch doesn't realise your hiding a secret from him.

Not Your Problem - Mitch feels you pulling away from him.

Pill Popping - Mitch confronts LJ about what happened in St Clair.

Not Enough - Mitch realises he won't ever be enough for you after you reveal what happened in St Clair.

Therapy Sessions - Mitch talks through his issues with his counsellor.

Hollow - Mitch returns home to an empty house.

Swings - Mitch steps up when you recieve some life changing news.

Don't Hold Back - You struggle after spending the night with Mitch.

It’s two days later that Mitch turns up on your parent’s doorstep. You answer the door half asleep because you got off shift twelve hours ago and there’s a deep set exhaustion inside of you that has nothing to do with physicality and everything to do with the mess inside your head.

“Put on some sneakers.” He says, tucking his hands into the light blue windbreaker you’re wearing. “We’re going running.”

“You gave up the right to tell me what to do when you served me with separation paperwork.” You remind him, your temple coming to rest on the door and his jaw tenses as he looks down the street for a second.

“I deserved that.” He says before he tilts his head towards you. “But I’ve been where you are right now Marley and it’s a really dark fucking place. Trust me this helps.”

He doesn’t flinch when he meets your gaze and you sigh before you retreat into the house and step into your running shoes before snatching up your jacket, headphones and phone.

“Fine but I’m listening to my Yellowstone playlist.” You tell him as you place the earbuds in your ears.

“Sure.” He says as he takes out his own matching set.

It takes the two of you a second to sync your phones to the Bluetooth before Mitch takes off, leaving you to follow his lead. It’s a new route, one you don’t recognise until you end up running along the lake with Mitch by your side. He’s slowed his step to keep pace with you, his skin is flushed from the exertion and the cold as he draws to a halt underneath the railway bridge.

“I wanted to show you this.” He says as he gestures at the graffiti art sprayed onto the wall.

It’s a Brenda Barnum piece, a mural of white daisies painted onto the concrete amidst yellow and green hues and it makes something inside of you light up the way it always does when you see something of hers.

You’d always been a weird kid, perfect on the surface but with an oddness underneath. You didn’t like the same things as other kids, you liked quirky things, vivid colours and shit that challenged your thinking. There was always a battle to conform and you had because it made life easy but you never really felt like you fit. You’d lived with that feeling for years, thinking there was something wrong with you until you saw one of Brenda Barnum’s paintings and in that moment you realised that you didn’t have to hide yourself, you could be exactly who you wanted to be.

You’d told this to Mitch when you’d taken him to an exhibition in the early stages of the relationship, you’d explained how each painting made you feel like you’d been seen, like someone had taken the thoughts out of your head and committed them to canvas.

When he’d finished renovating the house, he’d put a framed museum print of ‘Purple Firecracker’ on the wall above your bed because he knew how much you loved the piece.

“I know you feel displaced right now.” He tells you as he leans back against the concrete pillar. “That you don’t know which way is up but I thought this could be your anchor point, a reminder of who you are underneath the rest of the shit that’s going on in your head.”

Your chest grows tight as you stare at the colours, the vividness, the complexity and in that moment everything just quietens.

“Thank you.” You say finally because you’ve been on the edge ever since you got your diagnosis and this is the first time you’ve actually allowed yourself to take a breath, to step back from the abyss that threatens to swallow you up.

“I mean it.” You say as you tilt your head towards him and his cheeks start to colour. “Thank you Mitch, for bringing me here, for reminding me I’m stronger than this.”

“You’re the toughest person I know Marley.” He tells you as he pushes off the pillar. “You just needed to find yourself again.”

“Yea.” You say, your gaze straying back to the artwork in front of you. “Yea I did.”

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[argisthebulwark]

I'll Burn Alive For You

summary: Before he gets a chance to confess his feelings, he's already lost you. gn reader, no pronouns or yn used feat: Vilkas, Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf warnings: explicit depictions of injury, death, and grief. masterlist

"I wanted to love you." Vilkas gulps, teeth gritted against those damned tears. His hands are squashed to your abdomen and the cave reeks of your blood. Bleary eyes stare back at him - he doesn't even know if you can hear him. Grabbing fistfuls of your armor he drags you to his lap, lungs burning with the sobs he cannot let out. "Please." He's gasping, begging for you to stay. Your fingers are chilly when they flutter over his hand, smearing blood over his skin. Your lips move around words he can't hear and rage smothers all the sadness - god, he hates himself. He's always been so selfish and here he sits, wasting your last moments begging for you to love him back. "Don't go." Vilkas pleads, struggling to keep pressure to your wound - he knows you've lost too much blood but he can't give up. "The others will be here soon, just - don't go yet." Farkas or Aela will know what to do. They'll have more bandages - he's kicking himself for packing the bare minimum. It's selfish and unfair but he grits his teeth and wills you to stay alive for him. None of it matters, of course. He's seen your wounds and knows when there's no coming back. The rest of the world feels hollow when your last breath rattles under his palm. He should have told you sooner. To hell with the fear of being rebuffed. He should have confessed how deeply you'd embedded yourself into his heart, that training you had become the highlight of his week, that when you accused him of glaring he'd merely gotten lost in thought of kissing you - he should have told you before you were dying in his arms.

He should be happy. Hell, Miraak should be celebrating - he's done it. He's beaten the damned prophecy that's hung over his head for so many years, he actually killed the Last Dragonborn. He survived your crusade on Apocrypha and withstood your attacks - he won. His cruel smile slips when your grip on his arm lessens. You were strong but he was quicker, the dagger easily finding the vulnerable curve where the plates of your armor didn't quite meet. Even when he twisted the knife you'd clung to him, bloodied lips pleading with him to find some other way past this. As Miraak watches your empty eyes stare off into nothingness he feels the life drain from him. Each breath that rattles through your lungs takes you farther from him, sending you to the one place he can't follow. His boots would never sully Sovngarde's heavenly fields but you, oh the gods know you deserve the best the heavens can offer. It's wrong. You are slipping through his fingers and he's powerless to stop it; dropping the blade Miraak grasps for your shoulders, attempting to shake life back into you. This is wrong. He fucked it all up and he needs to stop it. "Dragonborn." He can't make his tongue form your name, the very thought of it feels like a sin. He's done nothing to earn that type of familiarity. "I've changed my mind. We can find another way -" He knows that it is futile. Even as Miraak faces the god that has ruined every facet of his life and offers to forge a new deal he knows that his actions mean nothing - yet he cannot stop himself from trying.

Farkas feels the flame of his heart gutter out. Your hand grows limp where he clutches it to his chest, though your grip on his tunic loosens. He feels so far from the rest of the world, as if he's floating somewhere far from his body - this cannot be real. "No," his whisper breaks the silence, "not yet." It wasn't supposed to be like this. His heart is supposed to be skipping nervously when he asked you out to dinner - it was all planned out. You were supposed to return from the mission, exhausted but successful. Farkas would sweep you off your feet with the promise of dinner and a hot bath. You were supposed to listen to him stumble over his words trying to explain how deeply he'd grown to love you and giggle when he made some awful joke. This wasn't supposed to happen. Aela wasn't supposed to haul you back to Jorrvaskr soaked in blood and mummified with bandages. He wasn't supposed to hear those apologies - this wasn't right. "Don't leave me yet." Farkas begs, voice breaking when he raises your cold fingers to his lips. "We haven't gotten to the good part."

Brynjolf knows loss - grief has been his constant companion over his many years, but he'd forgotten how terribly it burnt when fresh. He heard nothing past the ringing in his ears after those fucking words passed Mercer's lips. "Real sorry, kid." Mercer offered a pat on Brynjolf's shoulder but he's forgotten how to speak. His mind replays that last moment over and over; the little kiss you'd left on his cheek before skipping after the Guild Master, the promise that you'll speak more after returning, the confident grin that made his heart skip. You were so full of life that it had overflowed into him, reigniting a heart that had felt dead for decades. No. Mercer is wrong. He chokes down whatever miserable sound threaten to escape his throat, eyes cast wildly around the Cistern praying that you'll hop out of some shadow and laugh at him for believing such a silly thing. His heart is beating too fast. He can't get enough air in his lungs. The room is spinning and he's going to be sick, he's going to lose his footing. Everything is wrong. Brynjolf has no clue what he's thinking. His feet are moving of their own volition when he trudges through Riften, mind buzzing with that terrible need to prove Mercer wrong. He'll fight through that fucking ruin and find you there - you could be injured, you might need his help. He will not lose you.

[flowerandblood]

Green Snake, Red Lion (10)

[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]

[warnings: sex content, smut, angst, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

The weeks leading up to the Qudditch World Cup seemed to drag on endlessly for him. As he had done during the winter break, he exchanged letters with Solren every day, describing his days and training sessions, however, he was unprepared for how unbearable the longing would prove to be for him.

Every evening he fucked himself with his hand thinking of her, of seeing her again soon, of touching her again. His house, compared to Hogwarts where he saw her every day, seemed empty and cold to him. It was only a few days before they were due to leave that his mood improved, and he could sense a growing excitement in his girlfriend's letters too.

On the first day of the championships, they were to meet in one of the magical passageways in a London phone box meant for visitors from the Ministry of Magic. He spotted Solren from a distance, she was dressed in a pretty summer lightweight strapless dress, her hair tied up in a braid. She couldn't help herself and ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms.

Normally he would have been embarrassed by any physical contact in front of his parents, but Aegon made sure that as soon as he got home, his mother found out that his little brother had a girlfriend, and to top it off, she had already met her. His parents took this news with surprising optimism for him, only pointing out that he should not neglect his education.

Now, however, when he was finally able to embrace her after a month of separation, to smell her hair, her skin, he simply cuddled her tightly into him and for a while they lasted like that.

They let go at last, looking at each other with a gentle expression of happiness, his hand grasped hers tentatively, unable to deny himself her touch now that she was so close. He felt her fingers slip between his and he hummed, following his parents towards a set point.

They entered the phone box one at a time, as there was little room inside. Solren had never travelled this way, so he had to prepare her for what awaited her.

"We'll go inside, you'll suddenly feel like you're falling and you might feel sick. Hold my hand the whole time. Ready?" He asked and she nodded quickly, joy and excitement on her face.

They walked inside and he felt a sudden powerful force pull them up, everything around them became a blur and they were both standing in a different place, all around a giant green field filled on all sides with tents, a loud din, shouts and laughter coming from all sides, people flying on broomsticks and moving their luggage with wands. Solren looked around with her mouth wide open, in her eyes a joy he had not seen before.

"Let's go children, we have tent number 52, the same as always." Said their father lightly.

In truth, his father was only coming to the event to represent the Ministry, and the games themselves did not interest him, but he recognised these outings as their annual family holiday. They moved ahead looking around, the people around them were dressed in the colours of their national teams.

"Who are you cheering for?" She asked him suddenly, squeezing his hand, and he glanced at her puzzled, as if it was obvious.

"The Bulgarians." He replied lowly, and she furrowed her brow.

"What? Apart from being brutal they can't play! They don't stand a chance against the French!" She said with a confidence that amused him and he laughed out loud at her words.

"The Bulgarians are going to smash your French, my little lioness." He murmured, lifting their entwined hands and kissing her skin, wanting to soften his words a little with this gesture. She only burbled upon hearing his opinion, but said nothing more.

They finally reached the tent which, at first glance, seemed small, able to accommodate three people at most. However, when they went inside they saw a huge space divided into several parts with a large living room in the middle. Aegon sighed heavily and immediately fell into a large, soft armchair, closing his eyes.

"I haven't gotten enough sleep." He muttered with dissatisfaction.

Aemond and Aegon shared a common sleeping space, while Helaena and Solren shared their own. The Gryffindor knew, however, that this would not stop him from doing what he was planning and she pressed her lips together at the thought.

The other members of their family wanted to rest, but she, as she had never been to the World Cup wanted to see all the stands at once, and Aemond decided to accompany her.

They moved through the crowds heading towards the very centre of the field, where long lines of stalls stretched around the huge stadium with souvenirs, collector's cards with players from all the teams, posters with moving figures, books about quidditch, with new models of brooms and everything a true fan could imagine.

Solren was enthralled and wanted to approach everywhere. Aemond had never paid much attention to the products they had on sale without collecting such things himself, so he was seeing most of them for the first time too.

"I've been collecting money all month working at my dad's bookshop to be able to buy myself loads of souvenirs here!" She said cheerfully. He muttered at her words and pulled her to him from behind so that she bumped against his body. She glanced up at him involuntarily feeling what was going on in his trousers, his lips against her ear.

"I'm not sure I can take it anymore."

They were both embarrassed and ashamed of themselves as they thought hard about where to hide. There were people all around them, so they decided that if they wanted to do anything intimate they needed to head into the woods.

They went deep among the trees wanting to make sure no one could see them even from a distance. She squealed quietly as Aemond pressed her against the trunk, panting heavily, slipping her panties off her thighs in a quick motion.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry −" He breathed out, she heard him quickly unzip his trousers, clamping his hand over her mouth which muffled a loud, surprised moan when she felt him inside her, his nose pressed against her cheek.

His hips began to move inside her greedily, confidently, she panted and moaned into his palm feeling the way his member wonderfully stretched her throbbing, thirsty insides.

She longed for him and thought of him constantly, touched herself with her hand at night, but it wasn't the same. She struggled to mumble his name and he panted with her, his free hand clenched on her hip.

"− fuck, little one − you won't mind if I cum in you, hm? − it'll do you good if you walk around filled with my seed −" He hissed, and she cried out quietly, feeling herself come surprisingly quickly after such a long separation, her walls clenching against him in pleasure.

"− oh, baby −" He exhaled pressing his face against her hair and sighed heavily, his thrusts quick, sharp, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud splash again and again. He moaned low and pressed his lips together as he came, hugging her back, staying inside her as long as his member pulsed inside her.

"− I've missed you so much −" He breathed out with difficulty and a kind of embarrassment taking his hand from her face and she breathed quietly, closing her eyes with an expression of bliss on her face.

"− I missed you too −"

She pressed her lips together as he took hold of her hand after all and they moved back, what he had filled her with starting to flow down under the influence of gravity. She clenched her thighs together looking at him resentfully and he glanced at her with satisfaction.

They spent the day walking around and observing what was going on around them, only returning to their parents' tent for lunch. Solen was excited and told Helaena passionately about what she had seen.

"I'm planning to buy myself some scales with the colours of France and a poster of their Seeker, because she's fantastic. I've also seen some interesting books about Quidditch that you can't get anywhere, but I'm not sure whether to buy three or four." She muttered, thinking out loud, Helaena laughed and grabbed her hand.

Although they went to bed separately, Aemond came into the girls' sleeping area when Helaena was already asleep. Solren flinched when he lay down next to her on the bed, slipping under her duvet, and she looked at him surprised.

"What are you doing?" She mumbled quietly, feeling his hand grab the material of her pyjama shorts and slide them off her thighs.

"Shhh." He whispered and kissed her, then covered her mouth with his hand for the second time that day.

This time he entered her gently, softly, moving inside her in a calm, unhurried rhythm. She knew it was an expression of his longing, his desire to feel her, to be close to her. She felt the heat gathering in her lower abdomen again, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts.

She swallowed loudly, wondering if Helaena had heard the sticky, quiet click and splat each time he slid into her again and she came hard, clenching her lips with difficulty to keep from making a sound.

After he cum inside her he simply fell asleep, embracing her from behind, his soft manhood still deep inside her. She cuddled her face into his hand that was embracing her and fell asleep with him.

When she woke up in the morning he was gone, but she didn't mind. She knew that in the evening he would come to see her again.

She was very excited about the opening ceremony and the first match to be played between Spain and Canada. When she entered the stadium together with Aegon and Aemond she was impressed by its giganticness.

Aemond told her that his father had arranged for them to be seated in the box of honour and there was the best view from there, she squeezed his hand tighter at his words with a squeal of joy.

Aemond had never seen her so happy before, and he himself had never felt better. The three of them sat down, talking excitedly about what they thought of each team and who they gave what chances.

"I think Spain will win. They are fast and decisive, the Canadians are playing a wait-and-see game." Said Solren, Aemond nodded, agreeing with her words this time. Aegon snorted.

"Nothing for them if the Canadians have a better Seeker!"

They paused their conversation and shifted slightly when a married couple with a child sat down next to them, casting them cool, curious glances.

The man had a black staff in his hand, his long light hair reminding her of Aemond's. His wife had a slightly pointed nose, her hair braided into an elegant hairstyle, behind them a small boy, aged eleven at most, his light hair pulled back. The man glanced at them indulgently.

"Ah, the sons of Viserys. And some new friend?" He asked inadvertently, and Solren lowered her gaze, embarrassed, Aemond's hand tightening on hers.

"Mmm." He only replied, looking at him intensely. After a moment, his young son spoke up, watching them curiously, and directed his words to Aemond.

"I have heard of you. You are the captain of the Slytherin team. I'm going to Hogwarts this year and I hope to join the team next year. It's interesting that you can play without one eye. Couldn't you conjure it back up?" He asked as if he were talking about the weather, Solren tightened her hand quickly on his fingers feeling him all solidified in rage.

His father patted him firmly on the shoulder, his wife casting him a quick, disgruntled look at the gesture.

"Draco, behave yourself." He growled, correcting his black cloak with a sudden, displeased gesture.

Solren stroked his hand reassuringly with her thumb, and he let out a loud breath as he stared ahead, his jaw clenched. He heard her swallow quietly and lean towards him.

"Who is it?" She asked uncertainly, as surprised and disgusted as he was.

"The Malfoy family."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn’t tag you)

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn’t tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff 

@chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess 

@sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses 

@ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

Others: @fangirlninja67 @helaenaluvr @queenofshinigamis @scmdsblog @talesofoldandnew @godrakin @nina2697 @saminalloxo

[weemssapphic]

hiii, I hope you are having a great day!

I was wondering... i know it was hard to write lipstick stain buuut would you consider doing a part 2?

hello, i hope you're having a lovely day as well! a couple people asked if i would write a second part so... here it is! ao3 link is in the title <3

for those who haven't read part one: here's a link (it's also in my masterlist)

content/warnings: Larissa takes reader out on a date - nsfw (dom!larissa), age gap (reader is 21+), sexual shapeshifting, praise kink, alcohol consumption, cunnilingus (reader receiving), corruption kink if you squint?

words: ~4.5k

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 2

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Moonlight filtered into the living room of the apartment you shared with your friends, the soft glow a stark contrast to the harsh light coming from the home screen of Netflix that illuminated the television.

You’d somehow managed to field most of your roommate’s questions about your afternoon, wanting to keep the “juicy details”, as Christin put it, to yourself, and soon the topic had moved on to Cassandra’s failing love life, your upcoming midterm exams, and where you would all go for your spring break trip.

Pizza boxes and empty beer bottles were strewn across the coffee table. Christin was nestled in Robin’s arms on the larger of the two couches, Cassandra curled up on the smaller couch, leaving you on a pile of fuzzy blankets on the floor. You didn’t mind - you were wide awake anyway, mind going a mile a minute.

You grabbed your phone from where it layed next to you, beginning to flick through each of your social media apps, hoping for a brief reprieve from the woman that plagued your every thought, from the growing ache between your thighs. The reprieve did not come. Instead, you found your thumb hovering over your contacts app. A quick glance at your roommates told you they were out cold. You scrolled down to the ‘L’s, finding Larissa’s name and opening a new message. 

A glance at the time told you it was 1:34 am. There was no way in hell she’d be up. Even if she were… she’d have something better to do, you were sure of it. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at your phone, thumbs hovering over the screen as you debated whether or not to text her. 

A snore to your right brought you out of your daze. You locked your phone, groaning and dropping your head to the floor. What had this woman done to you, in such a short amount of time?

You picked yourself up off the floor, switching off the television and heading out of the living room in the hopes that a cold shower and a decent night's sleep would get your mind off the older woman.

Of course, you were sorely mistaken. You couldn’t get your mind off her, no matter how hard you tried, and by the middle of the week, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You found yourself pacing your room on a Wednesday afternoon, finger hovering once again over Larissa’s contact, typing out and deleting a message over and over again. Everything you came up with sounded so stupid - so juvenile. Perhaps she’d appreciate a phone call instead?

Fuck it. You pressed the ‘call’ button and lifted your phone to your ear, heart beating faster with each passing ring, until it pounded against your ribcage, struggling to break free.

“Larissa Weems?” Her tone was cool, professional, put together - while you felt like you were coming apart at the seams.

“Hi,” you breathed out. “It’s Y/N. You know, from the-”

“I know who you are.” You could practically hear the woman smirk at the other end of the line. “I was wondering when you would call.” 

At least she remembers your name? That has to count for something?

“Uh, right. Yeah. I was just wondering how you were doing? And, maybe, if you were free sometime?” You stopped your pacing to shuffle from foot to foot, glancing out the window to watch the cars pass by on the street below.

Larissa’s melodic laugh reached your ear and your stomach flipped pleasantly. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

There was a brief pause in which time seemed to stand still as you wondered what she was thinking, whether she was going to try to let you down gently. And then - “What do you say I take you out to dinner on Friday?” 

Dinner? Somehow you’d just been expecting a hook-up, you hadn’t dared hope the woman would show any interest in you beyond relieving some sexual frustration.

“Darling?” You realized with a jolt that Larissa was waiting for a reply.

“Y-yes, of course, I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”

“Wonderful. The earliest I can make is 7, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You couldn’t help the victorious grin that was spreading across your face, the butterflies that were erupting in your stomach.

“Where can I pick you up?”

You recited your address and said goodbye to Larissa, barely having hung up the phone before falling back onto your bed and squealing in delight. The panic would set in soon enough when you realized you had no idea where you were going or what you should be wearing.

~~~

Friday came both far too quickly and far too slowly for your liking. Your roommates teased you relentlessly, though they thankfully had the mercy to make themselves scarce when the afternoon of your date with Larissa came upon you.

Robin and Christin excused themselves early to go on a date of their own while Cassandra helped you with your makeup, distracting you with some horror stories of hook-ups with frat boys from her freshman year. 

When it was time for you to get dressed, she gave you a quick hug and shut herself in her room, turning Spotify all the way up to give you your space.

6:57 pm. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. You’d opted for a long black skirt and a baby blue silk blouse with just the top button undone. Cassandra had done a great job with your makeup - you didn’t usually wear eyeliner, but you had to admit it suited you, drawing attention to your eyes. You hoped Larissa would like it.

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it automatically. Larissa.

“Hi, are you here?”

“I believe so, though the parking here is a little confusing.”

It was your turn to laugh - she was right, the set-up of the student apartment buildings wasn’t very visitor-friendly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be right down.”

You grabbed your keys and your wallet, stuffing them into a little clutch that you’d dug out of the back of your closet, praying you were dressed fancy enough for wherever Larissa was taking you. She dressed rather expensively and you were sure her taste was no different.

You took the steps two at a time, somehow managing not to twist an ankle in your heeled boots, and scoured the parking lot for your date, finally spotting the woman leaned against a deep blue Rolls Royce at the other end of the lot, busy typing away on her phone.

Your cheeks warmed as you drank in her form. Her dress was silver, off-the shoulder, cinched at the waist. The fabric rippled off her hips like a waterfall, stopping just shy of her ankles. Her hands were gloved and she wore a long coat and heels that added a few inches to her already impressive height. She was stunning - and you were definitely underdressed.

You waved to her as you approached, finally getting her attention. A warm smile spread across her face and she opened the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“Chivalrous,” you remarked, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“I can be.” Her hand brushed your shoulder and she threw you a wink before closing your door and heading over to the driver’s side.

Larissa put the car in drive and pulled onto the street, her right hand coming to rest on your thigh. “I’ve taken the liberty of making a reservation at my favorite restaurant, I do hope you’ll enjoy it.”

You swallowed hard as her thumb began to draw slow, lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt. “I’m sure I’ll love it, Larissa.”

The drive was short, less than 10 minutes, and most of it was spent humming along absentmindedly to the radio as Larissa continued her ministrations on your thigh, shooting you a glance every so often.

She pulled into the parking lot of one of the most expensive restaurants in Burlington. You moved to open your own door but Larissa was faster, having maneuvered swiftly around the car and pulled the door open for you. She placed a hand on the small of your back as she led you into the restaurant and a shiver ran up your spine, your skin burning from the contact despite the layers of fabric between the two of you.

You were led to a booth at the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes. The waiter brought you a pair of menus as well as the wine list, before tilting his head towards you, an apology already formed in his eyes. 

“Miss, I apologize but I will have to see your ID.”

Your cheeks burned as you rifled through your purse, while Larissa busied herself with the wine list to hide the smirk forming on her lips.

The waiter checked your ID and, once satisfied, apologized again and left you to peruse the menu.

You looked at the woman across from you and saw her shoulders begin to shake with laughter.

“Hey,” you pouted, searching the table for something you could possibly toss at her to get her to stop giggling. “I’m of age, you know.”

“I never doubted that you were,” Larissa suppressed another giggle and, finally, met your gaze. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you pout like that?”

“I don’t look adorable,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and furrowing your brow, before realizing Larissa had you exactly where she wanted you. “This really isn’t fair, you know that, right?”

“Darling, I never said I played fair.” Her eyes darkened and her voice dropped an octave as she leaned across the table, her hand coming to cup your cheek. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“You’re a tease,” you whined. 

“I have a feeling you’ll come to enjoy it,” Larissa shot you a playful wink before settling back in her seat. “Now, let me spoil you.”

If the wetness pooling between the apex of your thighs was anything to go by, this was going to be a long night.

Larissa ordered a bottle of her favorite red for the table and insisted, with a pointed glare, that you don’t pay attention to the prices on the menu. The two of you spoke about art and culture as you waited for your food, and you chattered on about your art history courses. She seemed genuinely interested in your life as she rested her chin on her hand, fully captivated as she watched you with a glint in her sapphire eyes. 

“So, what is it that you do?” you asked. The woman opposite you intrigued you so - by the time your food arrived, you felt you’d been blabbering at her all evening, and you didn’t know a single thing about her yet. 

“I’m the principal of a school.” 

“Oh? Sounds intense. Which school?”

“Nevermore Academy.” Larissa seemed to tense slightly, eyes carefully searching every inch of your face. 

Your brows furrowed as you thought, carefully chewing a piece of your food. “Oh - that school for… uh, Outcasts?” You tried to recall if you were using the correct term - your roommate, Robin, had grown up in the area and told you stories of some local kids in the area who’d gone to Nevermore, vampires and werewolves and the like, though you knew she tended to over-dramatize things.

Larissa’s lips pulled into a thin line and she nodded, knuckles turning white as her fingers flexed around her silverware. 

“That sounds so cool! I’m not really from this area so I don’t know much about it, but isn’t that like everyone’s dream? To have some kind of magical superpower?” 

Larissa seemed to visibly relax, a hesitant smile gracing her lips. “I don’t quite think that’s what everyone thinks, though I’m certainly doing my best to rectify Nevermore’s reputation.”

“That’s a shame,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine and smiling at Larissa, trying to ease any remnants of tension that the conversation seemed to bring up - you could tell she wasn’t used to people being accepting about her profession or her status as an Outcast. Was she an Outcast? 

“I don’t know if this is rude to ask but… are you… do you have any… you know? ‘Superpowers’?” You immediately cringed at yourself for sounding so stupid, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

Larissa laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “I do, if you want to call it that.” She looked down into her wine glass, swirling the stem gently between the tips of her manicured fingers.

You raised an eyebrow and cocked your head, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to deliberate for a moment as a long silence stretched between the two of you.

“I’m a shapeshifter.” Her words rolled off her tongue as if she weighed every syllable with great care. She raised her eyes to meet yours, her expression giving away nothing except perhaps a hint of challenge. 

You racked your brain for an appropriate reaction to the admission, sensing your next words would be terribly important to the older woman. 

“Oh…” You let out a deep breath. “That seems like it would come in handy. Thank you for telling me.” You placed your hand on the table between the two of you, palm facing up, wiggling your fingers. 

Larissa looked between your eyes and your hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, placed her own hand in yours, a brilliant, toothy smile lighting up her face. Your skin tingled where hers met your own, lighting up all the nerves in your body. 

You were pleased to find that you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself, and conversation flowed even easier after that point. Larissa opened up about the trials and tribulations that came with running an entire school, all while your hands were intertwined on the table. 

You’d long finished your meals, the bottle of wine you’d shared was nearly empty when you felt something brush against your ankle and you yelped, nearly jumping out of your seat. 

Larissa suppressed a giggle, giving your hand a squeeze as the tip of her heel grazed against the muscle of your calf. 

“How did you like the food?” Her voice was low and sultry and as she leaned across the table, you caught a strong whiff of her perfume, dowsing you in a steep wave of arousal.

“I-I loved it.” You clenched your thighs together, trying to ignore the building tension in your abdomen and focus on the present moment with your date. “It was so, so good. Really, thank you so much for taking me here.”

“Darling, the pleasure was all mine. But now I think I’d really like to have some dessert, if that’s alright with you?” Larissa’s gaze was intense, all-consuming, hungry - you felt yourself drowning in her eyes, your stomach fluttering at the prospect of what she was proposing. 

You swallowed back a whimper and nodded, unable to concentrate as the pad of Larissa’s thumb traced over your knuckles.

Larissa paid your bill, tipping generously and leading you back to her car. Her hand rested on your thigh again during the drive, inching slowly and tantalizingly higher every few minutes as the pads of her fingers began gentle ministrations against your skirt. You wished in that moment you’d worn something more revealing, feeling desperate for her touch on your skin. 

As the car pulled up a long, winding drive towards a massive, castle-like building, Larissa’s fingers finally brushed against the fabric covering your core, drawing a strangled hiss from your throat. 

“We’re here,” Larissa smirked, removing her hand from your skirt and parking the car. 

“So is this Nevermore?” You bit the inside of your cheek in a vain attempt to regain control of yourself, staring up at the imposing building through the car window with interest.

“It is, I have my apartment at the school. It’s easier that way.”

Larissa led you inside the school. You rushed after her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she navigated her way through the dark, looming halls, completely empty at this time of night. She stopped in front of a pair of wood-paneled double doors, fishing her keys out of her purse and letting you into the apartment.

Within seconds of the door shutting behind you, Larissa’s lips were on yours. You let out a groan as she pressed you into the door, simultaneously shrugging off her coat and tossing it to the floor. Her hands trailed down your sides, cupping your ass and lifting you off the floor to pin you against the door.

Larissa’s tongue slid against the seam of your lips, coaxing a moan from your throat as you granted her access to explore your mouth. Your entire body was ablaze as she began to pepper your jaw and throat with kisses, moving her lips to your pulse point and grazing her teeth over your sensitive skin.

“Larissa, please,” you whined, the ache between your legs becoming too much. You needed her, you’d needed her since you’d first had her nearly a week ago, and the ache was finally becoming too much to bear.

“So eager.” You could feel the ghost of a smirk against your throat as Larissa carried you effortlessly back through an open doorway, nipping and sucking at the column of your throat. Larissa placed you on her bed and hovered over you, lips connecting with every inch of bare skin she could reach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her fingers worked at the buttons of your blouse, expertly ridding you of the garment within seconds. Your bra came next and then her mouth was on your breasts, tongue working your nipples into hard peaks as she drew breathy moans from your throat.

Your skirt joined the rest of your clothes on the floor and Larissa trailed open-mouthed kisses down your torso, biting little marks to remember the night by. You yelped when she bit down on the inside of your thigh, arousal leaking out of your core. 

Finally, Larissa’s tongue made contact with your cunt, licking a path up your folds to your clit, circling it once, twice. The scent of your arousal hung heavy in the air, spurring her on as she lapped at your pussy.

“Does this feel good, Y/N?” You could only whimper in response, fingers tangled in the sheets behind you to steady yourself. You were embarrassingly close already, simply from the effect of the woman’s intoxicating presence.

“You taste absolutely divine, my darling,” Larissa hummed, sucking your clit as her fingers teased your entrance.

“P-please,” you whimpered, thighs twitching as you brought your hands to Larissa’s hair, fingers tangling in her blonde tresses.

“Please what?” The vibrations of Larissa’s lips against your pussy were driving you wild with need.

“I’m so close…” Larissa plunged her fingers into your cunt and you bucked your hips up in time to meet her thrusts. Your walls began to clench around her fingers as you reached your first orgasm, your moans increasing in volume.

Your gaze wandered down, eyes meeting Larissa’s, and the sight was what made the coil behind your navel snap. Her pupils were blown so wide there was not a sliver of sapphire visible, her cheeks were dusted pink, her hair was coming out of its elegant updo, curls falling messily across her forehead.

Larissa lapped up the juices leaking out of your core as you rode out your high, planting soothing kisses along the insides of your thighs and cleaning you up while you steadied your breathing. 

She moved up your body, connecting your lips in a bruising kiss so that you could taste yourself on her tongue, swallowing your moan.

Larissa pulled back to look at you, the insatiable hunger in her eyes setting a fire ablaze inside of you.

“Y/N, can you be a good girl for me?” Your thighs clenched together with want and you nodded fervently. There it was again - good girl - of course you would be, you would be anything for her.

Larissa slid off to the side of the bed and tugged at the zipper of her dress, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, dotted with pale freckles. She slid the dress farther down, until it reached the swell of her ass, then allowed it to fall to the floor. 

To your absolute delight she’d forgone a bra, and as she turned to face you your breath hitched in your chest, struck by the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. The peaks of her nipples, hardened by a chill in the air; the slight swell of her stomach, disappearing into red lacy panties; the freckles on her shoulders, sprawled out like constellations.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, secretly a bit pleased at yourself with the hint of a blush you were able to produce on the apple’s of Larissa’s cheeks.

“My darling girl,” she cooed sweetly, a contrast to the devious smirk playing upon her lips. “Do you remember what I was telling you earlier? About me being a shapeshifter?”

You nodded slowly, brows furrowing, unsure where the woman was going with this. 

“I am able to shift… certain parts of myself.” Your mind, still a bit hazy from your first orgasm, raced in an attempt to compute what she was saying. Larissa towered over you, waiting patiently until - finally - your eyes widened as comprehension dawned on your face. 

“I would so like to take you tonight, my dear,” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry and you could only nod eagerly. You felt your heart begin to race, heat pooling between your legs at her proposal. She smirked down at you with kiss-swollen lips, lipstick smudged, and you knew you were done for.

Larissa crawled on top of you, planting sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw. It was then that you felt it - an unfamiliar bulge, pressing insistently against your leg through the lace of Larissa’s underwear. 

“You make me so hard,” she groaned. You moaned involuntarily as the older woman began to grind against your thigh, rubbing her bulge against your sensitive skin. Your skin buzzed with electricity, all the blood in your body seemingly rushing straight to your cunt. You needed her inside you.

Larissa pushed herself up to discard her panties, her full length now on display, standing to attention. Your pupils dilated as you stared at her, transfixed, drool pooling in your mouth. You dropped your thighs open, revealing your dripping sex, and Larissa chuckled at your neediness.

“My beautiful girl, so ready for me.” Larissa gazed down at you fondly, cupping your cheek with her hand. She traced your lower lip with her thumb, letting out a moan as you sucked it into your mouth.

“Lay back,” she instructed, and you did as you were told, chest heaving as Larissa crawled on top of you, pressing her body into yours, her skin hot to the touch. She reached a hand between the two of you to grasp her cock and drag the tip up your slit, whimpering at the sensation.

You bucked your hips up, whining needily and fisting at the sheets.

“Darling,” Larissa whispered, her breath hot on the shell of your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

Your own breath hitched in your chest as she finally pushed inside of you, letting out a guttural moan as your warm pussy clenched around her length.

She paused for a moment to allow you to get used to the sensation of being filled. “Is this alright?”

“Mhmm. It’s good.” You shifted your hips, watching carefully as Larissa’s eyelids fluttered shut, eyelashes brushing against flushed cheekbones. “How does it feel for you?”

Larissa smiled sweetly, opening her eyes and gazing down at you as a light blush spread across her cheeks. “It feels amazing.” Her expression turned wistful. “No one’s ever asked me that.”

It was something you couldn’t fathom, and with some effort due to your height difference and the position, you reached up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, fingertips brushing lovingly against her jaw as if trying to convey an apology for every idiot who had ever slept with her and not cared for her pleasure.

You rocked your hips a bit, causing Larissa to shift above you. “May I?” You nodded, teeth sinking into your lip as she began to slide out of you, then back in, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to her.

Larissa found a steady rhythm inside of you, rocking her hips against yours, stretching you out with every thrust. She seemed to hit every nerve-ending inside of you, knowing exactly how to move her hips to have you writhing in pleasure beneath her. 

Your hands clung to the sheets beneath you, fingers twisting so hard at the fabric that you might rip it. Larissa’s hands settled on your waist, steadying herself so she could pick up her pace. You stared, enraptured, her tits bouncing as she pounded into you.

Larissa leaned over you so that she could press a searing kiss to your lips as her hands came to rest next to your head.

“Tell me what you want,” Larissa cooed, continuing her brutal pace inside your cunt.

“Oh- fuck, Rissa, use me.”

Larissa’s moans became filthier by the minute and you could tell, somewhere behind the hazy cloud of your impending orgasm, that she must be close too by the way the snapping of her hips was becoming more and more erratic, the way her breath was coming out in short puffs, the way her hand that she used to steady herself next to your head twisted at the sheets with white-knuckled desperation.

“Be a good girl for me and come with me, darling,” Larissa breathed, groaning as she thrusted into you, on the verge of climax.

You came first, your senses flooding with delight as you reached your peak. It was pure ecstasy, feeling your walls clench around Larissa’s cock. You could hear the older woman’s own cry above you and you forced your eyes to stay open so you could watch her, her face contorted with pleasure above you; eyes screwed shut, jaw slack. 

Larissa slid out of you carefully, chuckling as you mewled pathetically at the sudden feeling of emptiness. She slumped onto the mattress beside you, completely spent, slipping her arm under your torso to pull you into a soft embrace. With her body pressed against yours, skin to skin, you could feel that she’d shifted back again.

“That was… wow,” you sighed, nuzzling into Larissa’s chest. She laughed, a melodious sound that you immediately committed to memory.

“It was indeed.” She pressed her lips to yours in an affectionate, loving kiss. “You did so well for me, love,” she murmured, fingertips skating across the skin of your back in soothing patterns. You breathed in her scent, allowing it to wash over you and calm your still racing heart.

“I can drive you home but-” Larissa saw the slight pout of your lower lip and grinned, “but I would love it if you’d stay the night. Perhaps I could entice you with breakfast in bed?”

You smiled up at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You could entice me with you. I would love to stay the night.”

Larissa settled back against the pillows, pulling you on top of her, relishing the contact with your bare skin. She pressed her lips to your forehead, watching your eyes flutter closed and listening intently as your breathing slowed before allowing herself to succumb to sleep, a peaceful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

x

tags: @enchantressb @rainbow-hedgehog

[transzilla]

You met me over grindr while I was in the city for a one night stand and for some reason we kept in touch, some glow around me that you really liked. Your living situation is a little crowded so we figured we would hook up in an empty bulldozer at a construction site at night. I work at a fire tower in the mountains and I really like other trans men but due to the geography haven't found anybody to stick around, so I tend to get around quite a bit when in the city.

Your living situation is tough. You've tried to go on hormones, or blockers, but keep being shamed and rejected and getting pressured out of it by distant family members or chaser-y roommates. You have no room to grow. You're fucking miserable. You contemplate offing yourself, guiltily, but quickly shoo the thought away considering you have a roof over your head and no real reason to be sad.

We text obsessively. I'm lonely out there, stealth trans in the middle of nowhere, and whenever I have service we text, call, vent, joke, bust balls, tell each other all our deepest, darkest secrets. They're looking to hire another lookout, my coworker retired. It requires you to live onsite and they provide housing without taking it out of your paycheck. I sympathize with your situation, I tell you you'd do well in this position, I'll put in a good word for you with the forest service, you should apply. Get you out of that glorified pig sty and somewhere with fresh air where you can finally breathe.

You get the job, make a fucking decision and leave everything behind to come work with me. We reunite, get drunk, get you accustomed to your new life. You talk to very few people and nobody seems to clock you as trans anyway. Your daily work is hard and manual but refreshing compared to customer service. You let me rail you every night, your food is taken care of, you're reading and working out and getting your back blown out on the clock.

Sometimes it feels like I make you do everything I'm supposed to do, I seem to enjoy watching you sweat and lift heavy things and slack on my work. I have a ton of testosterone that I share a little too excitedly with you and it doesnt look prescription, in small brown vials with blue caps, some of them are labelled cypionate but also proprionate, enthonate, undecanoate, demonic incantations you've never seen before in your life. And I'm real weird about always doing your injection for you. I stab it in so fast and it looks violent but it doesn't feel as bad when you do it, but the way I make eye contact and hold the needle in my teeth while I do my own injection is a little off putting. I'm constantly pushing you, nothing you ever do is good enough for me, all of my fetishes while we're fucking seem to entail you doing push ups naked, squats, bending over and letting me examine you, your legs getting so sore after im making you ride it, letting me squeeze your tits and feeling your pec underneath the breast. I smoke a pack a day and pressure you into joining me, complimenting you on how raspy and fucked up your voice sounds.

You have doubts. You aren't able to call your friends as often as you thought you would. When you talk to people you've been isolated so long you talk over them garishly, talk all about yourself, make too many dirty jokes and swear too much the way we talk to each other, awkward and unfit for civilized society. All you have is me and you have no choice but to trust that I have your best intentions in mind.

You let me teach you how to use a shotgun the salty perfume of the gunpowder staining your hands as your aim gets better and better, your guard lowering the more I've been praising you for doing what I want. We went hunting and you shot your first deer. I was so excited and you were so validated by how proud I was, it felt like a big hug from the inside out. You send a picture of the field dressed deer to your old city friends, guts steaming in the morning sun. they're absolutely disgusted by the fact that you would do such a thing and show them. You're a fucking machine of a man now and you're able to tame the wilderness everywhere except for in yourself.

After months you plain don't recognize yourself in the mirror. Your hair is wild, your facial hair not just a few long pubes jealously untouched on your chin but a uniform patchy stubble shaved haphazardly when you were tired of it being singed when you did fight fires. Knuckles scarred, shoulders broad, the gross muscle you feared you would develop rippling like a tiger under your skin and the extra weight you've gained. You talk like I do, you act like I do, you think like I do, you can't tell where you stop and I start. Your reflection looks sleepless, disordered, lost, a thuggish stranger. Heartless man.