#can i have 5 more of these little white haired bitches

[vorgoth]

it's absolutely hilarious how astarion went from one of my least favs in early access to like. one of my fav video game characters of all time

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[willowsnook]

Expensive fight (18+)

Can i please request a lil bit of a salami and pulled pork? (Totally all good if it's just the salami one tho) and can i get that with tomato on white bread, pretty please? But also, could we make it mikes way?

lando norris x gf!reader

She isn’t you

I’d be insane not to love you

“She isn’t you,” Lando said exasperated. “I don’t understand why you’re being so insecure about this.”

“It’s fucking insulting for you even to think I am being insecure,” you snapped back at him. You two had been going at it for the past 15 minutes in your shared Monaco apartment. Lando had just gotten back from London and you were pissed about something he had said on one of Max’s streams. 

“Then what’s the issue?” He said firmly and you threw up your hands. 

“The issue is what you said on the fucking stream!” You yelled. “Now I’m being tagged in all this shit about you cheating on me.”

All season long, the internet has been speculating about Lando cheating on you with a well-known influencer. It was comical to you at first, but it got annoying fast, and Lando’s refusal to address it was starting to wear you down. Someone in the chat had asked about it, and Lando's response, “I’m not going to comment on that,” just sent the internet into a flurry. 

“I’ve told you a million times to stop looking at what the internet says,” he said, irritated. 

“You first,” you shot back, and he glared at you. Shoving past him, you stalked into your bedroom, pulling out your small carry-on suitcase. 

“What are you doing?” Lando asked, watching you pull clothes from your drawers and closet and putting them in the case. 

“Leaving. Clearly, I’m not a priority for you right now and that’s fine. So i’m going to get out of you hair for a little bit. Wouldn’t want me bitching at you to be a distraction,” you said sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes. 

“You are overreacting,” he said tightly, not moving to stop you. 

“You don’t even want to know what me overreacting would look like,” you seethed, getting into his face. 

“Fine,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing you his credit card. “I’ll let my pilot know you’re heading to the airport.”

You snatched the card out of his hand and left without another word. 

Lando was not happy about the situation but felt somewhat okay with you leaving, knowing that you had his card and that he would have eyes on you through other people he knew. It had been a rough season for your relationship. You’d been together for 5 years, but you were in the trenches this year. Lando’s stress about the WDC, the online hate, and your inability to go to as many races due to work was taking a toll. You both knew you would get through it, but it was tough right now. 

Honestly, he figured that you’d only be gone for a couple of days. He loved you for your fiery attitude but knew you were a softy at heart and was counting on you breaking first. But the weekend came and went, and you still haven’t returned. He knew you were in NYC, wincing as he saw the list of charges to his card, but he hadn’t heard a peep from you. He’d paid the hotel staff a big sum to alert him every time they saw you coming or going so that he’d at least know you were alive. 

What was kind of amusing about the situation was that fans had spotted you out and about, so now the rumors had even more fuel to them, which was exactly what you didn’t want. You wouldn’t admit that to him, though. 

Lando hopped on to stream with Max, and his friend could immediately tell he was miserable. 

“She’s not back then?” He asked cautiously, and he heard Lando sigh over the mic. 

“Nope,” Lando replied. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Nope.”

“Yikes, man,” Max said, and Lando hummed in agreement. The chat was going crazy, with questions pouring in about y/n being in NYC, and fans now confirming that you two were beefing. 

“Let me just clear the air for everyone,” Lando said into the mic. “Y/n is the love of my life. We have been together since we were 19 and we will be together until we are 90. I have never cheated on her, and I would literally rather cut my dick off than do that.”

“Well said mate,” Max said chuckling. 

“Now everyone, please blow up her social media and beg her to talk to me again,” Lando pleaded, and Max laughed loudly. “especially because I haven’t had a real meal in days.” 

Meanwhile, you had watched the stream replay over lunch and almost gave in and bought a flight back home, especially when your phone actually started blowing up with fans begging for your forgiveness. But you had already told one of your coworkers based in NYC that you’d meet him out for dinner, so the flight would have to wait until tomorrow. 

You spent the day shopping to fill out more of your winter closet. You picked up some clothes for Lando, too, along with a new watch and cologne. You were sure that some people would probably throw a fit knowing that you were charging this all to Lando’s card, but you knew he would prefer it. He made so much money that he would have preferred you quit your job to just hang out with him 24/7, but you loved what you did. 

Putting on a new dress you had bought, you headed out to meet your coworker for dinner. He’d picked a cute little pizza place close to your hotel, and you were excited to see him. He had started around the same time as you and you’d become fast friends despite never seeing each other in person. 

The two of you talked for hours, and you posted a selfie to your Instagram story to capture the moment and slightly hoping it would piss Lando off because you were still feeling crazy. Hugging your coworker goodbye, you hailed a taxi back to your hotel. Walking through the lobby, you did a double take at a man sitting on a sofa near the elevators. 

Lando’s gaze burned into yours, taking in your new dress and how it fit on your body. He had a black duffle bag next to him that he grabbed when he saw you stop. He said nothing as his hand found your lower back, guiding you into the elevator. It stopped on the next floor up, and a lot of people piled in causing him to pull you into him aggressively. His fingers were digging into your hips and you knew he was pissed. So the picture definitely worked. 

You led him to the room and he set his bag down while you sat down on the bed, waiting for him. 

“That’s a nice dress,” he said darkly. “Is it new?”

“Yep,” you said, not backing down from his stare. 

“New earrings?”

“Yep.” 

“I’m sure that guy on your story loved them,” he said and you smirked. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“Jealous baby?” you mocked and he was in front of you in an instant, gripping your jaw hard as he forced you to look at him. 

“I should fuck this brattiness out of you,” he growled. 

“What’s stopping you?” You purred and he snapped. 

“Knees,” he demanded, pulling you off the bed. His pants and boxers were already down by the time you were ready and you smirked up at him. 

“Needy for me?” He responded by shoving himself into your mouth, groaning as he hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. His hands found the side of your head to get a better grip and he thrust in and out of your mouth with no care for how you were doing as he aimed to punish you. Tears were leaking down your face as he shoved all the way in, holding himself there until you coughed out. Gasping for air, he smirked down at you while wiping the spit that was drooling off of your chin. 

“Not so talkative now,” he cooed, and you found the energy to glare at him. He reached down to scoop you up before putting you on the bed, facing the mirror on the opposite wall. He pulled you up to your hands and knees and wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back to look ahead. 

“Now you’re going to watch me fuck the attitude out of you, okay baby?”

You nodded, looking at your tear-stained face looking back at you. Normally, you would complain about him not going down on you, but the way he was acting right now had you soaking wet. 

“I need you Lando,” you whined, and he grinned at you in the mirror. 

“As you wish,” he replied before pushing all the way in and moving quickly in and out, not allowing you to adjust. His hand was still wrapped around your hair and you were having a hard time staying upright as he pounded into you. 

Lando let go of your hair and you collapsed forward, breathing heavily into the comforter on the bed. His hand found your clit and you whimpered at the sensation of that plus him moving inside of you. 

“Feel good baby?” He rasped and you whimpered in response. “My little whore, thinking she could run away from me.”

You moaned out at his words, your first orgasm quickly washing over you without warning. Lando cursed as you clenched around him and let you ride it out before pulling out. He dragged you to the other side of the bed, laying you on your back so that you could look at him. 

His dick found its way inside of you again, and you cried out, still sensitive after your climax.

“I know baby,” he whispered. “Just a little more okay?” 

You nodded lazily as he pushed all the way in, taking a much slower pace than he previously had. He started to pick it up, and you reached out to grab the back of his head and pull him down to you. His lips met yours eagerly and you moaned into his mouth, climbing closer to the edge once again. Moving your lips down to his neck, you sucked harshly, causing him to let out a soft whine. 

“I’m close,” he groaned as he drove into your hips over and over. You felt your body getting hot and knew you were about to go over the edge. 

“Cum in me, please Lan,” you begged as your back arched off the bed during your climax; he grunted into your ear, spilling into you before he collapsed on top. 

He took a few minutes to catch his breath before moving off the bed, and scooping you up in his arms, moving towards the bathroom. He gently set you down before turning on the faucet to fill the bath. 

“Are you okay?” He murmured, finally looking over at you. 

“Mmmhmm,” you replied and he smiled softly at you. 

“Come on, princess,” he urged as he got into the bath. You stepped in, sitting in front of him, your back leaning against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you and he sighed contently as he rested his chin on your head. 

“Do you still love me?” You asked vulnerably and Lando had to hold back his laugh. 

“Of course, baby. I’d be insane not to love you,” he replied, and you turned your head to smile at him. I’m sorry about this year. It’s been hard, and I could have been doing a lot more to show you how much I love you.” 

“I forgive you Lan,” you said softly. “You’re under a lot of stress and I could be more sensitive to that.” 

He buried his head in your neck, wondering how he got so lucky to have you. Before joining you in bed, he drained the bath and put on a pair of boxers. You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, tracing your skin lightly. 

“I was planning on returning tomorrow,” you admitted, and he chuckled.

“Damn, so I only had to hold out for one more day,” he said.

“You probably would have given yourself food poisoning,” you muttered, and he smiled cheekily at you. 

“I knew you watched the stream,” he boasted, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I had to after I woke up to a million Twitter mentions. You being a simp so publicly made me forgive you instantly. It's embarrassing behavior.” 

He tickled your sides, making you giggle and shift onto him. He guided your head up to his and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, moving slowly. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he whispered and you nodded before laying back down on him. 

“Me either,” you mumbled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied and you felt yourself starting to drift off. “But you have to call the bank in the morning and explain that my card wasn’t stolen.” 

[peachypine]

the roomies!!! i originally designed this ososan oc trio in full about a year ago to write on an rp blog. it's not really active rn, but i still want to talk and post about 'em, so here they are! just basic rundowns, but i'd be curious to hear which one (if any) is your fav of the three (feel free to leave it in the tags?? if u want!)

bonus transparent of them all together:

aaand some rambling under the cut about their designs

anzu:

i wanted to use orange as a character colour bc it's one that wasn't already used in the matsu rainbow, and i had a concept of a gyaru character named anzu kicking around in my head for a long time as well, so here we are. miwa from the mixer ep inspired the eyeshadow (orange rather than miwa's blue obv, to keep with her colour theme) and delinquent totoko's design inspired her ombre dyejob! i went with a blonde-to-orange look as a nod to anzu's namesake fruit (apricot).

the strands framing her face are split into 3 sections at the end (2/3 are grouped together and 1/3 flips in the other direction) which is a little nod to her being one of 3 siblings (eldest), as well as the "三" character used in her surname (mikado) meaning 3. the rest of her hairstyle is just because i thought it looked cute, though.

ososan's style is more simplified, but i wanted to convey makeup that was a little bold, but cute (long false lashes, eyeshadow, & and a soft pink or nude glossy lip). clothing-wise, she mixes and matches a few different substyles (agejo and onee are prominent, with some ane, tsuyome, and general old school gal influences as well?), with a particular fondness for animal prints, esp. tiger print. (that said, orange tiger print doesn't seem all that common in gyaru clothes, so in-universe i like to think that the top pictured above was originally a black-and-white zebra(?) stripe print she thrifted and dyed at home--close enough!)

her nails day to day are usually medium length since she has a lot of hobbies that involve her hands and anything longer makes those things a bit more cumbersome. sometimes they're decoden/bedazzled, sometimes they're just painted a cute colour/pattern, depends on the day! and i think she opts for press-ons over extensions for longer nails, since it's cheaper.

ran:

i'm just a bitch who loves purple, that's the reason for this one. i think the hime cut with shorter bangs is nice because you can showcase the eyebrows (i think eyebrows can really elevate a character design so i gave all 3 their own brow shape) without worrying about the lines for the eyebrows and bangs intersecting in an annoying way when you draw it. i like shorter, slightly sharp eyebrows like these because they're easy to draw, lol. i think they're usually furrowed like she's displeased with something, but that may just be her resting face. i also thought this blunter, sharper-looking cut (bold, standoffish) was a fun contrast to anzu's flippy half-updo (bright, bouncy) and yuzu's short, wavy hair (languid, relaxed).

5 piercings on each ear (2 spiked helix & 3 lobe) = 5 siblings including ran (4 older brothers). the other reason for this number of piercings was that her namesake flower (orchid) had--i thought--5 petals, but as it turns out i'm a fool, it's actually 3 petals (including the lip) and 3 sepals??? ah, well.

clothing-wise, influences from various punk/vkei styles alongside some rokku gyaru. (maybe anzu introduced her to this one?) this brash style is the total inverse of how she was expected to dress growing up. (when she and anzu first met, she was an OL with no piercings, undyed hair, and positively miserable, but that was a number of years ago now.) i'm really not reinventing the wheel with "small and angry", but y'know, we have fun here.

yuzu:

is teal distinct enough from blue to count as its own colour? i think so. for yuzu, i really loved the concept of a deadpan-looking character who is very much not the straightman, who in fact wants very badly to be the funnyman 99% of the time. that kind of straight-faced but silly comedic character is always really fun to me.

half-lidded/heavy-lidded eyes paired with thick brows are always a winner to me fsr, and i wanted to give her a more "handsome" looking face with a bit more of a defined jaw than you typically see on women in ososan. as a treat. i wanted her to look a bit like a mysterious prettyboy, but she's not actually mysterious, she's just a space cadet. (and very straightforward about her thoughts and feelings, saying them with little fuss or thought.) expectation vs reality, people deciding what you're like based on their own perception vs what you're actually like, etc. etc.

i don't have anything deep to say about her hairstyle, but maybe that's how yuzu would like it, what you see is what you get. (again, eyebrows vs hair... let that eyebrow scar that i gave her for no reason shine.) as for clothing, she prefers things that are easy to move around in, so her style is the most "matsuno"-like (t-shirts, hoodies, basketball shorts, sweats, etc.). in particular, she likes shirts with phrases, usually in english, that are funny or almost make sense but not quite ("for background visual gags" and "for the english speakers in the audience").

[star-xxx1]

can you do a dark!g!p!step-cest Natasha Romanoff x f!reader? Please

Attitude.

Stepsis!Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: G!P Natasha, Dark Natasha, crying, dub-con, forced blow jobs, fingering, dragging, swearing, arguing.

A/n: Being used by Nat >>> This is really bad and quick. Not proofread. :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"I am so done with your shit! Your attitude is disgusting!" Natasha screamed out, waving her hands in the air, frustrated. Ever since your mum and her dad left for town, you had been arguing with each other, at even other throats contanstly. Around 5 small petty agurments a day. This time, you had upset her by refusing her touch. She was very quick tempered and domineering, plus she had been very touchy lately.

"Natasha, I am really sorry, I didn't mean to!" You cried out, more tears falling freely.

"You say that all the time!" She seethed. "Oh, I am so sorry, Nat. Please forgive me," She mocked. "You're pathetic y/n."

"Natahsa, please, I really mean it. I am really sorry!"

"You know what? I am done with your shit." Her voice was firm and cold.

"W-what?" You breath hitched, scared at what she would do next. Natasha grabbed your hair, you hand a flew to the back of your head, trying to pull her hand away. She pushed you to your knees harshly.

"Ow!" You whine out the impact hurting your knees. Natasha laughed as she tightend her grip.

"Stop with the whining bitch." She spat in your face. you whimpered fresh tears welling up.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me."

"Natasha, please am sorry." You begged.

"Sorry isn't good enough." More tears came rushing. You really wanted Natasha forgiveness.

"Nat-" Before you could finish talking, Natasha unzipped her pants and let her shaft spring free.

"I can't resist you y/n. You're so cute. So lovable," You looked up to her with wide eyes."Get to sucking baby girl. Show me how bad you want me to forgive you." She slapped her cock against your cheek signaling for you to open up. She shook your head no.

"Nu-uh," you refused. her lips twisted into a cruel sneer. "You're playing hard to get, huh? But you know you can't resist me." You shook your head again. "Y/n, do you think I have time for this shit?! Open up!"

You refused once more. "Fine, you wanna be like that." She let go of your head with a shake and pinches your nose. You tried your best to keep your mouth sealed, but the lack of oxygen was getting to you, Natasha smeared her precum all over your lips with her pink tip, teasing you. Eventually, you opened up a little bit just to get the slightest breath off air, but Natasha was fast. She shoved her cock down your throat and let go of your nose. She grabbed your hair again to make a makeshift ponytail.

Natasha body trembles from pleasure as she sits there in your mouth. You bashed your hands on her thighs, struggling to breathe and get custom to her shaft. You looked up to her with watery eyes, mascara running down your cheeks. Her voice is rough, almost hoarse "Don't you fucking dare try to play innocent with me. You're a born slut and you love it. I can see it in your eyes."

Natashas breathing becomes ragged as she slams herself deeper inside your throat "Mmm...you feel so fucking hot. So wet. My dirty little cocksucker. Such a nasty little whore. Such an obedient little bitch. And you love every second of it don't you? Every single moment." You shook your head no. Gagging and spluttering around her cock as she fuck you throat as if it was a personal fleshlight.

"Good girl." She moaned. Using you harder and faster. Tou drooled a mixture of spit and cum down your chin and onto the wooden floor. Her grip tightens further as she cums hard, shooting hot ropes of sticky white liquid deep inside your throat. Your cheeks bulge slightly as you struggle to swallow every last drop without gagging. After what seems like forever, she finally releases you, panting heavily. You lay there on the floor, holding your chest, heaving for air.

"So good doll." She said before picking up your leg. She started dragging you into the living room. You screamed and cried, body jumping as you landed on the couch. she looked at you hungrily, licking her lips seductively. "I want more." she says firmly. The redhead straddled your legs, pinning your arms above your head. You writhed under her, begging her to let you go.

"Natasha no please!"

she laughs darkly. "No?" she asks mockingly, staring at you with an evil glint in her eye. "What if I say 'Yes?' What then?" she teases playfully, pressing her body against yours. You quickly shook your head no. She chuckled. "Oh yes, baby, let me show you what real pleasure feels like."

She smirks as she watches you struggle to free yourself from her grasp. You're trapped between her powerful thighs. The way she grinds her hips makes it clear how much fun she has in mind. She whips out a pocket knife from her Jean pockets.

"Woah!" You shouted eyes widen eyes.

"Don't worry, princess, I am not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to." She twisted her head to the side, tracing the knife down you breast valley. She smiles wickedly, slicing off your shirt and tossing it aside before ripping open your trousers and underwear simultaneously. You feel cold air rush across your exposed skin as she stares intently at you, hearing the knife clank on the floor. "Now now," she coos softly, running her fingers along your inner thighs gently. You softly cried, whimpering her name over and over again.

Natasha kissed your cheek affectionately. "Shhh shhhh It will all be alright, darling." She strokes your hair lovingly, whispering soothing words. "Just relax.. Relax..there there..." her voice becomes soft and gentle, almost hypnotic. She runs her hands over your chest and stomach, stroking your hair lovingly. "Mmmh, you're so cute when you cry so helpless," she purrs out.

She moans loudly, rubbing her hand over your chest as she continues exploring every inch of your body with passionate intensity. "Such soft skin," she murmurs. "And such sensitive spots" trailing light kisses down your neck and shoulders. "So perfect for fucking." She moves her fingers down to your clitoris, circling it gently, feeling the wetness build between your legs "mmm you're so wet. You like this, don't you?" she teases, looking at you list blown eyes. "Is this what you wanted? A weak little girl who can't even defend herself?" She giggles devilishly, squeezing your breast.

"Nat stop, please." You moaned slightly the pleasure building up.She continues teasing you mercilessly, rubbing her finger tips over your sensitive clit while fingering you slowly. Your breath becomes heavy as you struggle to keep quiet. "Please, what? Please stop?" She says mockingly, enjoying every second of your suffering.She giggles darkly. "Ahhh, but you can't stop me." She slides two fingers inside you slowly, thrusting them in and out forcefully. "Come on, come on, baby." She looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to enjoy yourself.

She presses her thumb against your clit firmly, rubbing it rapidly while continuing to finger-fuck you ruthlessly. "That's it cum for me, baby," She whispers encouragingly, licking her lips hungrily. She smiles wickedly, watching as your body tenses up in pleasure. "That's right, come for me, baby." She thrusts her fingers in deeper, hitting your g spot perfectly, sending shivers down your spine. You cry out her name slowly, succumbing to the pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried out at the pleasure. Repeatedly, bringing you close to climax. "Just one more push, and I'll make you cum all over my hand." She was so eager to taste your. Teasing you with her fingers, bringing you close to the edge. "Tell me, who do you belong to?" She looks up at you, her eyes dark and menacing.making your body shake with each thrust.

"You!" Your back arched off the couch. She smiles wickedly, feeling your muscles tighten around her fingers.

"Yeah, that's it. Come for me, baby. Feel the ecstasy." She grins darkly, watching as you writhe around in pleasure. She watches as your body tenses up, and you release in an intense wave of orgasm. You scream her name one final time, your whole body shuddering as you climax. She pulls her fingers out slowly, spreading your juices all over her hand and licking them with a satisfied smirk. Natasha enjoys the sight of you laying there panting heavily, unable to move or speak. "Good girl," she says softly, reaching forward to stroke your hair lovingly. "It's okay now, relax. Just lay back and enjoy the afterglow." She gives you a soft kiss on the kiss.

"Am so proud of you. Let me take care of you now. You are forgiven, baby." She cooed into your ear. You were hers now, and you couldn't deny it.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

5 TIMES BIGGER 📏 NNOITRA GILGA X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 23: SIZE KINK

🐙 Requested by: Anonymous. Nnoitra x f! reader. day 23, please? he is huge, size kink is perfect for him 🥴 thank you for the oportunity! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. do not expect a romantic fic with this beast. size kink indeed. kinda humiliation. mouth fuck. fingering. strong language. you know Nnoitra. 🐙 wc: 968 // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Index and middle finger buried in your mouth, cheeks pressed with violence and perhaps hateful intent. His big smile next to you, tongue tasting the flavor of your cheek’s skin. 

“You came all down here to see me, didn’t you? this is what you wanted, mh?” he asks, grunting.  “Yeh-f, Nnoitra-sama” you -try- to answer. It is pretty difficult with two huge fingers inside your mouth as well as the rest of his equally huge hand holding your face. 

He laughs, hysterically, like a devil.  He is pleased to have you there, trained, coming back for his pleasure. 

Nnoitra is not the kind of man -if he is a man at all- to care about your own safety, he is only there to satisfy his hunger… and your whines and pleads are the perfect seasoning of it. 

White clothes ripped, the third espada uniform you need to replace. Aizen-sama will be mad at you… 

“Come here” he growls, grabbing you from your hair, pulling up as he tangles your locks around his hand and wrists. It gets snarled around his bracelets; it gets you lifted from the floor at his height; Nnoitra is more than 2 meters tall… that’s almost twice your height. 

He is huge in comparison with you, despite being thin. He is a brute, and your insides are about to suffer the same destructive faith you are here for once again… his sex is also huge, hard, merciless. 

“Let me see if you are ready or not” he speaks into your ear, but he does not whisper… he is not meant to be seducing, at all. 

The fingers of his free hand -as big as any normal man’s sex- scrutinize your entrance; he is well aware of his size, and as much as a brute as he can be, Nnoitra is not trying to kill you but just fuck you. 

“Still too tight…. I’d love to fuck you exactly like this, but I wouldn’t stand your crying…” he continues, discovering you are not dilated enough to receive him inside. So, he decides to act in consequence.

His index slides inside you, opening its way for the middle one. So far it feels delicious, but you know your walls will have to bear stretching more and more. 

In and out they go, violently, pumping in and out, making you gush every type of liquid known to mankind. The dunes and stillness of Hueco Mundo getting dampened by the very first time with stuff that’s not blood. 

The silence of the eternal night of the forgotten, of the heartless, gets interrupted by loud moaning as the next few fingers get in and try hard to open your femininity, to make space for his impelling intrusion. 

Nnoitra’s sex, impatient, aches to penetrate, to tear and rend your body… and you, as much as your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure and a little bit of pain, are exactly as impatient as he is. 

“Nnoitra-sama, fu-fuck me…” you plead, both because you know he loves to hear it and because you indeed want it really bad. 

“Mgh… see how much of a whore you are? You dirty bitch, you already want my dick inside you? Fine, don’t cry then…” he smirks, scoffing at you for begging, for being “his bitch”. 

He lets your hair free, and you fall. Your knees carve into the white sand, your eyes shine with the bright silver of that half-moon, your tears as well. 

Ready, get ready. It will show on your belly. It will feel like your organs get destroyed. It will feel like your mind goes blank and your consciousness is gone for some time. 

“Open that mouth” he commands, first, he wants it coated with your saliva. He wants your face to show you need oxygen before even fucking you. 

You turn to face him, sticking your tongue out, watching him crunching a little to reach for your mouth. A big smirk on his face, his hand on the back of your head and his dick finally pushed in and up to your throat. 

You gag, you tear up, your hands grab fistfuls of sand and your toes curl. 

One, two, three thrusts. More and more gags, to the point of being about to throw up. Oh, but he wouldn’t let you, you are not allowed to be “that disgusting”. 

Once he is satisfied, and his shaft is indeed shiny, drippy and covered in both your saliva and his precum, it is time to fuck you as much as he wishes. 

“Stand-up” he orders -lifts you up from your hair-. The fifth espada turns you around and lifts you up by your legs. With his arms underneath the back of your thighs, you are suspended over his hard sex and then impaled by it. 

Your legs become spread, your back against his chest, your left arm reaches back for his nape to secure yourself as he begins pumping in and out of you. 

Your belly shows the bulge of his huge hardness whenever he is deep inside, going deeper every time as your walls get more and more stretched out. 

You feel your insides full, as if the tip of his sex was hitting your other organs and the thickness was taking up all of the space around. 

“Ugh… bitch, you are still too tight for me… but you are so good, come on keep milking my dick- come on, baby….” He moans, biting after your shoulder, licking your neck with his 5 tattoo on it. 

You indeed lose consciousness from time to time, you aren’t sure your body should be used this way… but it is too good not to go back, each, and every single time. His seed will heal what’s been ripped right after, don’t worry…

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[epic-arc]

Summing up jaune's crossover ships PART 4 ''Ship Revenge''

1- 'in a small compartment great things can come''

If you like this ship you like all the ships with Jaune that have a difference in size (Which is almost all of them) They would be a really cute couple

2- Triple Arc

I don't think Jaune would go the route of dating him from another dimension… If you like this ship you definitely came from the Undertale Au fandom and shipped some sans with sans.

3- Fairy Knight

''Excuse me he asked for no pickles'' And for sure she is completely sensitive and careful with him when he is at home and loves the food that Jaune makes.

4- Yellow Witch

They would be a very cute couple, Mona talking about different types of magic and things like that and Jaune just listening but not understanding anything. And they both have wonderful thighs.

5- Tornado Knight

This ship is basically white knight but Weiss has green hair and is more Tsundere than in the normal canon. You like the size difference.

6- Blizzard Knight

Well now this is winter knight in one punch man, however I think the two combine a little.

7- Evil Rainbow Knight

This ship is ''i can make him worse'' Because this milf is hopeless, she is pure evil.

8- Star Knight (Starfire made by Sparks220stars)

You liked the idea of ​​RWBY x DC and you are also a big fan of Teen Titans. Jaune would be the best boyfriend with her but he would be embarrassed if she said anything intimate about them.

9- Black Star Knight

This ship has two tropes, Sisters always share things and ''me and the bad bitch i pulled by being silly'' And of course Jaune is the submissive one in the relationship.

10- Azarath Knight

''me and my hot witch wife'' But I think they would be really cute, like they would probably spend the whole day cuddled up watching videos of cute animals.

[faghubby]

Unseen Future

Like so many young boys,in my early pubescent years I discovered the joy of dressing up. In my mother's things. Later abound 16 I found myself experimenting with a friend. I sucked his dick. Then finally getting a girlfriend at 19. I just simple resigned that it was just being a horny kid. I had several girlfriends over the years till I got married at 27. Life was good, she got pregnant with my son. It was a complicated pregnancy and at 5 months the doctor warned us not to have sex. My wife Judy made attempts to keep me satisfied but she was always sick and never really into it. That's when started wearing her things when she was out. And experimenting with her toys. Soon I was able to take her vibrator all 8 inches down my throat. And would cum with another toy up my ass. Are sex life was never the same even after my son was born. I kept playing for years. Then she got pregnant again with my daughter. My daughter had health issues and needed close care. Disrupting our sex life even more. This drove me even deeper into my fantasy play. Now it was me who was affecting our sex life. I was the one who wasn't interested in her. We had many fights over this. I am sure she suspected I was cheating at least once. Years went by and it only got worse. Then in an attempt to save the marriage. I confessed about wearing woman's clothes and wanting to be dominated by her. She wasn't a natural dominant person. But she tried. She loved to buy me panties, even taking me to the store to pick them out. She stopped seeing me as her shining knight. And had an affair. She confessed immediately. I was so excited i ate her pussy and sent her back to her lover. Confused she went. After several long conversations. We expanded toy play. I encouragedher to cuckold me. She was not comfortable with me watching. Our sex life became me preforming oral on her, or using a toy. While I rarely got to be inside her. Asking to be denied. Instead a handjob, or having me jerkoff became normal. We bought a chastity device. And experimented with it. She used a strapon on me. But preferred to just have me wear a plug. But after I sucked her strapon. She started to tell me I needed a man. She had several and loved that I would wait at home to lick thier thick cum out of her. She eventually got me to meet a man. Who used me over and over. After that I craved it. This led to an end of the marriage. But by this time I had an entire wardrobe of woman's clothes. And a unyielding desire to be dominated. That's when I started talking to people on the internet. Searching very specific sites. I met Darren.

Darren was a married man, who loved to dominate everyone. He was very demanding. I agreed to meet him. I tried to get him to agree to meet in public first but he insisted on coming to my house.

"You're not ready" he said as if mad at me. I was confused as I was dressed almost no different then he was.

"No bitch of mine is leaving this house in ugly man jeans" he told me. He pulled thru my house finding my bedroom he searched my closet finding a school girl skirt and a white blouse. Then a black bra with matching thong.

"Pantyhose as well, with these shoes" he tossed a pair of 3 inch heels at me. He sat as I started to change.

"You're not even shaved?" He yelled. He jumped up and shoved me to the floor. I was a bit scared now he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall. His enormous black cock fell out. He was semi hard. I didn't say a word just started to lick and suck his cock. He was impressed by my ability to take most of him down my throat. After he finished cumming all over my face. He had me strip. And kneel as he explained what he wanted from me.

"Smooth, no faggot little bitch design above your thing. You can have hair on the top of your fucking head only." He stressed.

"Loyal, don't want you fucking shooting your faggot juice everywhere. So you said you had a dick cage. You will wear it all the time" I just nodded. "Now my wife knows all about my little hobbies. But she doesn't like doing certain things. That's your job now. You will suck my cock whenever and whereever I wish. That fucking ass. It's mine to do with whatever I please" he continued. "Faggots like people to know they are faggots. You will wear appropriate clothes so everyone who sees you knows. No trying to look like an ugly woman either. You will look like a little Faggot" he then waited as I went and shaved off my pubic hair then locked me in my chastity cage. Using his lock.

He didn't ask, he dominated things. I tried to accommodate him. At first he would just come to my house and fuck me, but as time passed he started to take me out. First to private parties or clubs. I w.as not the only one dressed as a cheap hooker. He rarely unlocked the cage. And then only to have me shave. So when he bought a smaller one I was even more scared but afraid to even ask him. He loved how uncomfortable and excited I became when out with him. So he started taking out even more. Having me suck his cock in public bathrooms or dark corners of a club. He bought me jewelry. Had my ears pierced so he could buy me earrings. Then my belly button.

It was hard to hide all the changes, in my work life. And soon got some harassment. Darren told me they just where horny men and I should suck their cocks. I was even more worried the first time I offered to do that to one of the guys I worked with. But he met me after work on a deserted road and I sucked his dick in his truck.

After I told Darren, he figured since I was so eager to suck other guys cocks. He soon was sharing me with his friends. I got fired and had to move in with Darren. I am now his full time big black cock princess

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 10

PREVIOUS

He calls his grandma to thank her for everything. She promises him that if anything keeps him from her on Christmas she’ll just make her way over to South Carolina to see him. “Maybe I can give that boy who is bullying you a piece of my mind!” She says and he loves her for it even if the thought of Andrew vs. his 70 year old grandma gives him heart palpitations that have nothing to do with the five hour energy he just slammed when no one was looking.

(He had eaten turkey because Abby had asked if he didn’t like it when he had forgone the white meat being passed around. She looked SAD so he just piled the dark meat onto his plate (at least it has less tryptophan) trip and now he needs to counteract the turkey. He could not afford to be sleepy on the impending car ride.)

He lets her know that everyone likes her pie and Abby had been overjoyed when he informed her that his gran always attaches a recipe card to the bottom for any pie in transit / for public consumption. (This is a woman who has been asked enough that she has the confidence to assume).

He gets off the line and feels the 5 hour energy kick in when Captain Neil appears out of nowhere next to him and he thinks he strains something when he resists the flinch his rapidly beating heart almost forces him into. “What language was that?” He asks.

“Polish.”

“You really do know a lot of languages. Just like your friend said.”

DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.

“Not that many.” DEFLECT DEFLECT DEFLECT “When are we heading out to Columbia?” DAMMIT

Captain Neil blinks but smiles, “We’ll be heading out in a little bit. Abby’s packing us leftovers. Too bad there’s no pie left. Do you think we could make it at the house? Andrew really liked it.” Neil says.

Pie is a safe topic. Pie will not betray him. Also if Andrew wants pie then he can’t kill FF until FF makes it and, perhaps, the pie will buy him a few extra days of mercy from his executioner.

“We can try. The secret ingredient is a grandma’s love though.” He says because it’s on the recipe card. It’s the most important ingredient in the whole pie. It’s what can keep a pie warm across a country. “Gran always says whipped cream can be used as a substitute though.” he says.

Captain Neil blushes.

DAMMIT WHY? WHY BRING UP THE WHIPPED CREAM?

“Well, we’ll have to pick some up from the store.” Captain Neil manages.

FF blanks his face as best he can and nods but gets up his heart beating too fast to remain seated. “I’ll be outside.” He says because he needs to walk around in some circles while he can. The car ride to Columbia is going to be a nightmare in general but especially since he slammed the five hour energy.

Kevin is the reason for the hold-up and the reason that FF gets 80 more laps around the house. He’s reminding them that they can’t stop exercising just because it’s a break gesturing to himself and the 20 minutes of squats that he just did to burn off the pie and then to FF who passes a window for the 10th time since this conversation started “See FF is keeping up with his fitness. Be more like him.”

Wymack eventually drags Kevin out of the house and into his car since they’re spending the break together. He flashes FF a thumbs up as FF passes and FF (unaware as always but great at mimicking social cues) gives him a thumbs up back.

It’s then that they get into the car. FF (as is the way of the world) is sitting bitch with Aaron and Nicky on either side of him.

Captain Neil is up front and starts to play some music. Both Nicky and Aaron are conked out before they even reach the entrance to the interstate. They have also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder and Nicky drooling into his hair.

“You can just shove them off.” Andrew says.

“It’s fine.” FF says reminiscing about the last time he’d had something like this.

20 minutes later it’s not fine because the five hour energy is definitely kicking in but it would be so rude to move and wake Nicky and Aaron up. Nicky is probably tired because he came to check on FF five different times the night before and kept dragging him away from whatever Saw movie he was taking notes on and Aaron ate a LOT of white meat so he’s filled to the brim with tryptophan.

But he thinks he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

He closes his eyes to try and breathe through this when.

“Smith said that we can try and recreate his grandma’s pie. We’ll just have to do a grocery run tomorrow.” Captain Neil says in Russian.

“It was good pie.” Andrew returns in the same language.

“He said that the secret ingredient is grandmotherly love.”

“It was on the recipe card. It said for best results be sure to add throughout the baking process.”

“His grandma said whipped cream was a good replacement. That it goes great with the pie.”

Uh-oh

FF knows that tone.

FF has fled across campus, the bus, the dorm room, and (one one notable occasion) the locker room when he has heard that tone coming from Captain Neil.

“Pie isn’t the only thing it will enhance the flavor of.” Andrew says back and FF feels as the car speeds up.

FF wishes that Andrew would just hurry up and crazy murder him already. He’d take the reverse bear trap over this psychological torture. He wants to pull up his phone and read if the Geneva Conventions list this as a war crime.

NEXT

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[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 4: The Belly Of The Beast

Content warning: unintentional voyeurism, slightly suggestive

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

The Culling - Chelsea Wolfe Men Like Gods - Gazelle Twin

* * * * *

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

* * * * *

“Don’t leave me here!” 

Voice cracking, you clutch your father's garment with your gloved hands, hopelessness seeping into the grip. He ignores your plea, striding toward his mount in a silent, unblinking fury.

Pride is a dangerous thing. And your father’s has just been ripped wide open.

Sukuna's little spectacle in the central hall—killing one of your father’s men because of you, and doing so in front of his entire clan—has him absolutely fucking fuming. 

Fingertips digging into the fabric for more purchase, you are practically clinging to him like a child. Touching your father repulses you, as does every aspect of him. But after what transpired, your desperation is rearing its ugly head.

Witnessing Sukuna dismember a dead body was one thing, but seeing a living, breathing person reduced to a wailing, cauterized mess before being decapitated was something else entirely. The cries of agony, the amount of blood, the limbs on the floor. Now carved into your mind.

“Father, please,” you plead, struggling to keep up with his strides. The grounds of the shrine are rain-slicked from the earlier downpour, making it difficult for you to stay upright. “I can’t do this.”

You must stay. You have to do this.

“Please!” you continue, voice rising, fingers knotting.

He stops and whirls around, getting right in your face.

Large, dark, angry eyes bore into yours. The sharp angles of his face appear more severe and brutal. The darkness of the evening only accentuates the creases of his face, turning it into an ugly mask.

“You will do as I say, you ungrateful little bitch,” he snarls, shoving you away with both hands. You stumble backward, your legs splaying wide to keep your balance as mud sucks at your feet. “You will remain here.”

He gives you a look that dares you to defy him, fully aware that you won't. He understands that you grasp the consequences and recognizes that he holds you completely under his control, ready to crush you at a moment's notice. And you know he longs to strike you across the face, but damaging Sukuna’s property is no longer in his best interest. Instead, he will leave scars on you that aren't visible to the eye.

To your right, Onishi leads your sister toward a mount. He lifts her up and climbs behind her, snaking an arm around her delicate frame. Seeing that vile man so close to her, knowing how his mind works, makes your nostrils flare.

Instinctively, you step toward them.

"No," your father commands, grabbing your shoulder to stop you. You jerk away and try to push past him, but he seizes the other one tightly and drags you closer. "Get back inside," he hisses through gritted teeth. You blanch as his dank breath washes over your face.

Tentatively, you glance over your shoulder at the shrine’s entrance. Only Uraume stands there, waiting for you. In the darkness, their all-white kimono and hair stand out like a beacon, as if beckoning you, trying to pull you back into that hellhole.

You turn back to your father.

“Please,” you say quietly, resuming your appeals, “There has to be another way.”

Your repeated words make his left eye twitch. The sagging skin at his neck wobbles with each angry inhale. 

“You have two months.” His words are spoken low, and their weight threatens to pull you down.

“Two months,” you repeat, the enormity of the deadline sinking in.

This is the time he has allotted for you to take down the creature or risk losing your sister.

Two months might seem reasonable, but everything you've observed about Sukuna leaves you troubled. He’s like a cat—an inhuman, agile cat—slipping out of reach whenever you attempt to catch him. Having witnessed his abilities, you understand that he can kill in seconds, while it takes you considerably longer to harness your gift.

How the hell is this going to work?

Without saying another word, your father releases you, turns and mounts his horse.

Perched atop his mount, he looks down at you one last time. A single glance at his eyes tells you everything you need to know. They are detached, empty. In his mind, you are unworthy—nothing to him.

With a sharp crack of the reins, he spurs the horse forward, guiding it down the dirt-packed road into the night.

Onishi’s horse quickly follows behind, passing you, your sister nestled tightly against his chest.

Heart dropping to your stomach, you realize you haven’t had a chance to say goodbye to her.

“Wait,” you call out. You step forward into a few purposeful steps before breaking into a run.

“Wait. Yuna!” you shriek, extending your hand towards her in a panic. She turns, arm reaching out to you, but she is pulled away. 

“Yuna!”

You desperately try to catch up, but your kimono drags you back, its folds catching with every movement. The silt underfoot is treacherous and forces you into a crawl.

With every breath, your chest heaves as you struggle to keep pace.

You are exhausted. Completely drained. This day. This horrible, life-altering day weighs you down.

All you can do is watch as your entire clan slowly fades into tiny specks, swallowed by the forest on either side.

Eventually, you slow. Knees knocking together, you tremble, your entire body on the verge of collapsing.

“No,” you breathe, taking one last hesitant step.

You should have been prepared for this moment, but now that it’s here…

“My Lady,” Uraume’s calm voice trickles from behind as they draw near.

You don’t react. Instead, you keep your gaze ahead as if willing yourself to wake from this nightmare. Tears burn as they form at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t allow them to fall.

An uneasy quiet settles as the thundering of hooves finally dissipates, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets in the receding forest and the steady summer breeze teasing the trees.

“It’s time to come inside,” Uraume presses.

Come inside.

It’s such a simple request. And yet, you don’t want to oblige. The shrine is too dark, too heinous. Filled with things you aren’t ready to experience. Filled with a thing you aren’t ready to experience.

You must stay. You have to do this.

After a moment, you force down the tightness in your throat and wipe your face with the sleeve of your kimono, fingers grazing your bruise.

You pull a deep breath of fresh air into your lungs, knowing you won’t taste it where you are going.

You turn to Uraume.

“Okay.”

They nod, leading you back through the massive doors, swallowing you whole.

* * * * *

At this late hour, the shrine appears different. It’s so still—not a soul in sight. No attendants are hurrying along, no heavy footsteps. Nothing.

It’s deathly still.

As you pass the central hall, you glance through the cavernous doors, which stand slightly ajar. The low wooden tables that had been present earlier have now been removed, leaving only a vast, untouched expanse. Only the King of Curses’ throne sits inside.

Your eyes cut back to Uraume, watching the delicate white strands of their hair that barely seem to move as they walk.

A knot of anxiety tightens in your chest as you wring your hands, and slick sweat forms between your palms. You can't shake the uneasy feeling of not knowing where they’re leading you.

They take you through the labyrinthine corridors, their white kimono guiding you in the darkness as the lanterns have all been doused, leaving you in twilight.

You find yourself wondering where the monster might be at this hour. Is he asleep? Does he even sleep? If so, where?

Finally, Uraume leads you down a familiar corridor, approaching your chambers.

When they open the door to your room, it lets out a mournful squeak as it moves along the track, causing you to wince and grit your teeth against the sound.

As you step into the room, Uraume follows inside and closes the door behind you with a soft click. They move to the room's far corner and carefully light a small lantern. The gentle, flickering light of the flame chases away the shadows, casting a warm glow over the space.

With the room illuminated, you notice a small plate of food sitting on the low table. You eye it suspiciously.

Uraume continues to prepare the space. Moving to the futon, they methodically spread the layers of soft silk and cotton, fluffing the pillows with careful precision.

You can’t help but wonder if all this hospitality is some sort of trick or a cruel joke. The question lingers on the tip of your tongue. You want to ask, but you push it aside for now.

“Is the room to your liking, my Lady?” Uraume inquires, not looking up from their task.

You watch their pale hands move in the dim light, almost ghostly in their delicate motions.

“Oh… uh, yes, thank you,” you reply, shuffling your feet awkwardly.

Once they appear satisfied with their work, though their face remains emotionless, they move towards you. Their critical eye falls on your dirt-covered kimono, and their lips thin. They move to help you out of the garment, and you take a step back.

“I can do it myself, thank you,” you insist quietly.

Although you allowed attendants to bathe you today, you intend for that to be a one-time exception. You generally prefer not to be touched, especially by Sukuna’s head subordinate, even though Uraume doesn’t seem overtly hostile.

They nod and move towards the door, hands sliding neatly inside their kimono sleeves.

“I will leave you for the evening,” they say, glancing at the plate of food on the table. “Please make sure you eat something. It appears you did not have dinner.”

Uraume was correct, which made them perceptive. Troublesome.

“Yes, thank you,” you mumble, as they turn to leave. “Before you go, could you please tell me what will be expected of me in my new role here as—” you swallow, “Lord Sukuna’s wife?”

You want to blend in here as much as possible. Remain inconspicuous, stay out of trouble, and go unnoticed until it’s time to make a move.

“You will be expected to follow the master’s orders, whatever he deems appropriate,” Uraume says. How vague. “And tomorrow, you will be assigned your own attendants.”

You give a subtle nod, before they start to move away again.

“Oh, one last thing—where are his chambers?”

Uraume pauses to scrutinize you for a moment, and you make every effort to appear as docile as possible, offering a smile that conveys: You are not here to assassinate him.

“To the right. The door at the end of this corridor,” they instruct, with a tone of almost detached certainty, as though Sukuna’s hubris might somehow protect him from being murdered in his sleep.

The same corridor as yours. How convenient.

You nod with a small ‘thank you,’ intending to dismiss them.

With their hands still tucked inside their sleeves, Uraume suddenly withdraws one and reveals a small piece of cloth. They turn it in their hand once before passing it to you.

Confused, you accept it and notice a fresh clump of ice nestled inside.

Raising your gaze to Uraume, you find them regarding your bruise with a pointed look.

“Goodnight, my Lady.”

Turning, they silently slip from your room and shut the door behind them.

* * * * *

The events of the day chew at you, making sleep impossible. Tossing and turning on the futon in your new chamber, you've been staring at the same spot on the ceiling for hours.

What time is it? One? Two? Three in the morning?

The clump of ice that Uraume gave you for your contusion has long since melted, leaving only a damp cloth behind. You want to feel gratitude for their gesture, but you remind yourself that everyone here sees you as both property and prisoner of their master.

Sighing, you turn onto your side and glance at the ceramic plate. You have mostly eaten the food, except for the meat, which you've pushed to one side.

You lie there restlessly, straining to hear any sound, but the silence is nearly maddening. Were it still raining, the steady rhythm might provide some relief from the oppressive stillness, perhaps even lulling you to sleep.

Yet, silence could also be a good sign.

You roll to your back.

Considering the possibility that the quiet means no one is around, maybe you can slip unnoticed to his chambers and finish this.

Two months.

You sit up and place your feet on the cold wooden floor. Your silk gloves lie on the table, but you won't need them for this.

Rising, you approach the door, taking care to apply minimal pressure to avoid making noise. It takes you at least a minute to open it as quietly as possible.

Standing in the doorway, you peer into the velvet darkness of the corridor.

You glance left, then right. Silence. It's so quiet, so dark.

Stepping out cautiously, you move to your right and begin walking. Your steps are faint and slightly unsteady.

The corridor’s width and depth are deep, like descending through a vast, elongated throat, with Sukuna’s chambers at the end serving as the stomach. Given what you have observed in the shrine’s layout, his room appears to be at the heart of the structure.

You shiver as you continue, flexing your hands at your sides.

As you approach the door, you notice a faint, diffused light filtering beneath it.

He’s awake.

A ringing sound begins to flood your ears, drowning out all other sensations. Almost as if you are in a trance, you lose all awareness of your feet beneath you.

At last, you reach the massive door.

Standing before them, you extend your arm. The sound in your ears is so loud you don’t register the sound of your knocking once, twice, a third time.

When the buzzing finally stops, sounds pierce through your settling haze—lewd sounds.

A deep grunt. A whine. No, two whines. Two women? Followed by some other indiscernible sounds that make your skin flush from head to toe.

"The fuck is it, Uraume?" Sukuna's irate, out-of-breath voice barks from the other side.

Shit.

It’s too late now.

You clear your throat and draw your shoulders back.

"It's not Uraume, it's me, my Lord.” Your voice seems to echo down the corridor as you call out. 

There’s no response from within.

Your yukata suddenly feels too tight, as if it wants to strangle you to death. You stare at the dark wooden door impatiently, considering turning back.

Then, there is the sound of skin on skin, a small keening noise that makes you wince, followed by the shuffling of fabric.

Silence.

Heavy footsteps.

Bang!

The left side of the sliding door rips open, making you jump.

You come face to face with one very sweaty, very bare-chested Ryomen Sukuna—eye level with his sternum, a prominent pectoral muscle glares you in the face. His slate grey hakama rests precariously low on his hips, as though thrown on hastily. Although you've seen him like this once before, this encounter feels entirely different—more intimate and unsettling.

He’s been fucking. 

Your body tenses as you realize this is the closest you've ever been to experiencing the act, just by proximity.

The heat radiating from his skin catches in your throat, stifling the air around you. You swear you can feel the strands of hair around your face beginning to curl from the warmth and a bead of sweat forming on your upper lip.

Unintentionally, your eyes drift to his right, peeking into the room beyond. For a fleeting moment, you glimpse the two attendants from earlier, their naked flesh illuminated by the soft lantern light within. In an instant, Sukuna’s two right arms shoot up, gripping the doorframe with startling speed, making a dull thud as they strike the wood. The two women vanish from sight, concealed by his muscled arms, leaving only his imposing figure before you.

Collecting yourself, you tip your chin up to meet his gaze.

The lantern’s glow from his chambers casts a dull light, silhouetting him. His red orbs peer into you, their intensity practically blazing against the darkness of the corridor.

“It’s quite late, wife. Yet here you are at my door. Why?” His voice is stern, and he leans in slightly, closing the distance between you. His immense frame eats everything in your vision.

Under normal circumstances, this question might be amusing. What wife wouldn’t seek out her husband on their wedding night?

"I wanted to say goodnight," you reply. A weak excuse, but you manage to keep your voice calm, measured, and sweet, although fake.

You force your eyes to widen and attempt to make them flash with a hint of playfulness, trying to project a confidence that you know isn’t there.

“Hmh,” Sukuna exhales dismissively. “Wanted to say goodnight,” he repeats with an annoyed grumble that causes your facade to waver.

His fingers begin to drum along the doorframe, thick veins pulsing beneath the skin of his hands with each movement. The pads of his fingers tap out a rhythm—short, sharp, and deliberate, as though taunting you.

He keeps drumming and drumming and drumming, the relentless beat almost in sync with your pounding heart.

You struggle to keep your composure, the walls you've erected for this encounter crumbling. Your fingers betray you as you dig your index fingernail into the cuticle of your thumb, the sharp pain biting into your flesh.

Suddenly, the drumming of his fingers stops.

Sukuna’s upper eyes fixate on your face, while the lower ones briefly observe your fidgeting hand. The corners of his mouth twitch, as if caught between suppressing a smirk and maintaining a contemplative frown. A heartbeat later, the right side of his mouth gradually tips upward, and his eyelids lower slightly, growing heavy as he directs his full attention toward you. 

An expression of heated intrigue washes over him.

There it is. That’s what you've been waiting for.

You hold his gaze, and he holds yours.

His eyes search you, as if attempting to unravel every hidden thought you hold. But you would never allow that to happen. Revealing even a sliver of yourself to the King of Curses would only lead to misery, and he would take perverse delight in your ruin.

His four eyes darken, pupils dilating, swallowing red.

Got you now, you bastard.

“Master.” A whiny voice from one of the women breaks the tension between you two.

“Shut up,” he snaps, not looking away, but his expression shifts. His fingers dig into the doorframe, and the tendons in his arms strain as if agitated.

Determined to regain the upper hand, you try one of your sister’s tactics. You push a charming smile onto your face, hoping to pull him back into you. But the effect is immediate, and it’s not what you wanted. His mouth twitches, expression faltering.

“Please, Master Sukuna. We need you,” she begs again.

He casts you one last look before a crease forms above his nose and turns his head. His four eyes disappear as he looks over his right shoulder, bringing his left shoulders closer to you.

He’s distracted.

Your gaze is drawn to the large black circular ink on his lower left shoulder. It seems to call out to you, like it’s screaming.

You feel Sukuna’s deep voice rumbling through your body as he speaks to the women, but the words are shapeless syllables.

He’s distracted.

You must stay.

Sifting inside yourself, you concentrate on activating your gift. Once you feel it tingling against your skin, you extend your arm, palm flat and fingertips poised, and reach for him.

You have to do this—

Bang!

The sliding door crashes back into place, extinguishing the light and leaving you alone in the darkness.

You hear Sukuna’s heavy footsteps pad across the wooden floor within the room. There’s a slap of skin, followed by a high-pitched squeal.

You bunch your hand into a fist and resist throwing it straight through the door.

The noises get more deranged, so you retreat hastily, wanting to avoid hearing him in his throes of passion or, more so, depravity.

When you return to your chamber, you slide the door shut and crawl onto your futon.

Staring at the ceiling once more, you reflect on what just happened.

Although you failed in your second attempt to kill him, you may have uncovered something revealing.

Despite the presence of two warm bodies, he still chose to open the door to you.

That expression on his face.

In light of all the bravado and arrogance he has thrown at you, it seems the King of Curses was lying when he claimed he didn’t want you.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 5

[rottingcherub-txt]

❝ To The Bone ❞

🫀・・・contents: sapphic relationship, obsessive behavior, mentions of religion (specifically Catholicism), blasphemey, Sexual Assault by religious leader, mentions of animal death, not being believed (referring to SA), gore and blood, graphic depiction of murder, cannibalism

I can still hear him.

If I’m quiet enough, if I press my ear against the walls of my bedroom, I can hear his footsteps, his humming of hymns as he makes his way towards my room. When I lie in my bed at night, between the buzzing song of crickets and cicadas outside of my bedroom window I always leave just slightly ajar, I can see his silhouette standing at the end of my bed before I blink and realize that it’s simply a poorly shaped shadow and the figment of my imagination coming to remind me. I close my eyes and roll over with my face pressed into the pillow, waiting for Dawn to stretch her fingers across the horizon and soothe a finger across the slope of my exposed thighs. Mama would come into my room to wake me, tell me to take a bath, and get ready for church.

I always dressed in white for Sunday mass. He liked me in white but you liked me in white as well. You’d smile every time I came into the church, following closely behind my mother and father as they greeted Reverend Hall — that beautiful, paled piece of raised skin against your honeyed cheek and narrow jaw shifting slightly with the pull of your lips. I wanted to kiss it, to trace my finger over the edges of it, to tell you I loved it, that horrific scar.

But he smiled at me too. “Good to see you, Ada. I’m happy you’re here.” Reverend Hall placed his hand on the small of my back, his thumb pressing circles through the cloth of my dress. His smile kept secrets, secrets only kept between me, him, and God. His looks whispered of the handsome man he once was. His hair still thick yet graying at the sides and around his hairline, wrinkles forming from his narrowed nose and curving around his thin, rosy lips from all the years he’s spent smiling at me. He held his bible in his large, paled hand; the same bible he read to me as I sat in his lap as a child, listening while he expressed to me the importance of purity — all while he twisted the purity within me.

I offered him a smile as well, brief and placid before moving on and my gaze found you once more. You had turned your back on me, listening to Mr. Williams — your father — speak to you and your brother. My father guided me to our usual pew towards the front of the church in front of the altar.

Reverend Hall stood at the podium as he did every Sunday morning and addressed the church. “The Lord is good, is he not?” And while a chorus of hums and “yes”s and “praise Him”s echo off the walls of their poor, little church house, weathered down and rotting from the inside out from the constant rain and perpetual, never-ending Georgia heat; I was just looking at you from across the way. You didn’t seem all that interested and you never have. You’d rather be with your studs and bitches despite the beasts attacking you when you were young. That’s how you got that scar along your cheek and the vicious bite marks across your arm.

“Father stresses purity. First Timothy chapter 5, verse 22, ‘Do not be hasty in the laying on of hands, and do not share in the sins of others. Keep yourself pure.’” Reverend Hall glanced down at me. Me in my pretty, white dress matched with lace-trimmed socks and mary jane shoes, me the image of purity in a town like this, me, the girl of which he ripped the flowers from the garden bed of childhood.

He loved me like this. Pure. The white against my dark skin, my wide, innocent eyes looking up at him. He loved standing above me, loved looking down at me, loved me. 

And I hated him. He dirtied me, defiled me — me. My purity, my perfection, my godliness. He tried to take that from me. But divinity can not be extinguished. It is eternal.

After a sermon, hours long, and even longer songs of worship, church was over. That meant me and Mama would spend the rest of our day cooking after church dinner. Papa would be in the living room, leaning back in his recliner with a beer in hand, calling for a sandwich and getting increasingly irritated by the minute.

“Mama, could I go to the Williams’ for a little bit? I wanna see if Ruth can come to dinner.” I tugged on the back of my mother’s skirt while she took her church hat off of her curled head. “Fine, but you stay away from them dogs, ya hear? I don’t want you comin’ home with no bites on ya arm. Them damn mutts vicious.” Mama never liked the Williams’ dogs. All them bully breeds, muscled-up pits, Rottweilers, all the sorts. They were fighting dogs. The Williams bred them, best in the state.

I was already out the door by the time she let out her last words, still in my church dress and my pretty Mary Janes I didn’t want to scuff up but I was so excited to see you that I didn’t care.

We lived in a small town. Population all of 100 some people. The Williams’ ranch was about half a mile down and the walk was marked by tall grass and powerlines. Cicadas sang constantly, day and night, all hidden between the shadows of Magnolia trees not yet bloomed.

Your land was often muddy, wet, full of boot and paw prints. The air seemed to get all the more humid, mosquitoes trying to land on any piece of exposed flesh. I always appreciated mosquitoes. They were in and out before you knew it with only an itchy bump to mark their existence. The best way to leave a mark is in discomfort. The grass was always half-dead and I never understood how you and your family managed to keep the few cows and goats you had. 

You, my precious, glorious, scarred god, were in a pin outside with a heavily pregnant red-nose Pitbull. You in your boots, always caked in dry and wet mud, and flannel with the sleeves always rolled up to your elbows. Your hair is tied up into a messy bun of curls and sweat is already dripping from your hairline down your dark caramel skin. Your scars on your face and arms from being attacked by one of your daddy’s dogs.

I remembered seeing the stitches, your split open cheek and arm. I wanted to lick the blood from your wounds. I wanted to cut you open, to part your ribcage and eat your heart. I wanted to slip into your skin and wear it like a blanket to forever keep me warm and I hope you wanted to do the same. I wanted to kill that stupid mutt that dared to hurt you but your daddy took it out back and shot it first. That was when I decided I liked your father.

"Oh- Ada." You seemed to brighten at the sight of me approaching. Your skin glowed gold when you walk into the sun to meet me at the fence. "Came right on time, 'm 'bout to put Missy back in her kennel. Her puppies should be coming any day now." The dog was fat and stout with engorged pink nipples bursting at the seems to feed the pups to be. She drooled with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, panting. "Tryna take a walk around?" Your voice was so sweet, so melodic.

I smiled softly at you. "No. I wanted to see if you could come to my house for dinner." As long as I could remember, you and I have always been best friends. Our families weren't close. My family was evangelical and yours could take or leave church. My house, littered in crosses and peeling floral wallpaper, a box TV in the corner. Your house was just the same but covered in animal heads instead. You come from a family of hunters, animal people. It shows in how we present ourselves but the love was there nonetheless.

I've never told you what happened though. I know you sensed an irreversible change in me after the first day it happened but your comments were always kept to a minimum. I appreciated it. I never wanted you to know I wasn't pure for you, that I was a disgusting harlot capable of seducing this town's Mother Teresa. I wanted to be, but my thoughts were already taking a turn.

I wonder how you taste. Will you taste like salty sweat? Like dirt? Like dog? Like love? I wanted to love you down to the bone. I wanted my love to consume you whole and leave nothing left behind.

But you and I were cut from the same cloth of the universe. I knew you were just as demented as me from late night talks on the roof of your farmhouse. I had turned to you, looking away from a night sky so clear it glowed with stars, and I asked you, "Are you ever hungry? And I don't mean physically but…deep somewhere in your soul. No matter how much you stuff into your face, you can never feel it."

And without thought you said, "Yeah. It's the kinda hunger everyone has but can't feed without another person. Even then, very rarely does it go away." Your face was blank solemn and I knew our thoughts were running parallel to each other. 

Then you kissed me that night, sweet and tender at first, then harder, hungrier. It was a sin for two girls like us to kiss like this. Both of our families would have never let us see each other again. My daddy would have drowned me in holy water. I should have felt guilty but I didn’t, I couldn’t not when I tasted you. We were hidden beneath the cover of night, no one had to know.

I bit your lip so hard it drew blood. You hissed and pulled away a bit and for a moment I had worried that I had ruined everything. But you had looked me in the eyes, yours glittering under the stars and you smiled with that bloody lip of yours and kissed me harder. I tasted your blood on my tongue — tangy and metallic — and I was intoxicated on it. You bit my tongue and our life sources mingled in a way so intimate I thought we might transcend this plane of existence.

The way you were — I wasn't sure if I wanted to have you or wanted to be you. You in your silent confidence and quiet perfection. Nothing bothered you. You were holy without even trying. Was wanting to be and wanting to have so innately intertwined that one could not exist without the other? When it came down to it, I simply wanted to possess you, completely.

Your crooked grin faded. "Oh Ada, I can't tonight. Ma need my help 'round the house later on but maybe another day." You always let me down easy so I'd take your small rejections lightly. I could see in your eyes that you always hated saying no to me. I always hated when you said no to me too.

I took it with ease though I was seething on the inside. 'Your mother can wait. What about me? You're breaking my heart here.' "That's okay." I was always told I had the smile of an angel. By my mother, friends of the family, Reverend Hall as he grabbed my chin with a, "you look prettier when you smile".

"Promise you not mad at me, sugarplum?" You hold out a long pinky to me with a smile so sweet it makes my cheeks burn. I loved the way you called me endearing nicknames. Sugarplum, sweetheart, darling. If I hadn't known any better and if I weren't dissecting you from the inside out, I would have assumed that's just how you are. A lot of southern folks call everyone those kinds of names. Our southern manners and hospitality.

But I can see, you use those southern niceties to wink at me, nudge me to realize your adoration of me, your worship. You recognize the divinity within me and I see it within you as well; within your dirt and mud and sweat.

I wrapped my smaller pinky around yours and smiled. "Never." I didn't want to leave you yet. I wanted you to hold me. I wanted to get dirty in the mud with you, but never impure. Never tainted. How could perfection be tainted? I was whole with you, a stolen piece of me returned. Together, we could transcend all of this and be more than everything, more than God.

But you had things to do, my love, and I never want to hold you from your duties. "I'll see you around, Ruth." I blew you a discreet kiss and your pink lips curled up, your scar shifted, and you caught the sun just right again. My golden god.

You took my wrist gently and pulled me back to press your lips to mine. Just a peck, a discrete kiss. It couldn’t be anything more, not now, not in the day. You let me go as quick as you grabbed me and I was dizzy on you, high on your love. I might have looked ditzy and lovesick as you leaned in and whispered in my ear, “See ya ‘round, Ada.”

The walk home was uneventful. I was far too busy tracing my fingers over my nether lip to feel the pressure of your lips on mine. Only that a rusty old truck making a whining screeching sound passed and I heard a faint, "Hey Ada!" Everyone in this town knew each other but I never bothered with learning names. No one mattered to me except you.

I returned home dappled with sweat and aching feet, still giggling to myself. I came through the back door that led into the kitchen and dining room. I stopped in my tracks, struck in the chest as if God had chosen to smite me on the spot. Reverend Hall sat at our dinner table with his trusty leatherback bible sitting beside him.

“Ada. You’re home.” Mama ushered me in. “Wash ya hands and help me with this potato salad.” I never expected him to be here at my table again, smiling at me knowingly. He hasn’t done it in ages, years, not since I was 15. I thought it was over. But politeness was key. He would not have me again, my soul, my dignity. I was above him. I was above everyone. He was just a maggot under my shoe. But that did not explain why I was so terrified of him.

“Ada. I’m so honored to be having dinner with your family. I hope I am welcome in your home.” I wanted to tear his throat out with my bare hands, shred him to pieces before his God and curse Him and His evil ways.

I did not answer him. Instead, I went upstairs to calm myself. My heart threatened to break my ribs, to suffocate me. And for a moment, I wish it would. But I reminded myself of who I am. I am greater, I am God. Who was he to scare me? He’s the one who should be scared. But that ideology did not comfort me when I went back downstairs and kissed Papa’s cheek and he whispered to me, “Don’t you go causing trouble now. Screaming your accusations up and down the street. You know Reverend Hall is a good man. Don’t act up.”

My Ma and Pa never believed me when I tried to tell them. How could a man of God ever do such a thing to a child? I was lying for attention apparently and was made to apologize to Reverend Hall which he graciously accepted. “It is alright. All children have wild imaginations. She must have taken my afternoon private lessons in an unsavory way.” He smiled at me with a glint in his dark eye and that was the end of it.

Sitting down for dinner was Hell. I was forced to sit beside him, my hand in his as we lowered our hands while Reverend Hall led us in prayer. He held my hand tightly, his grasp bordering on crushing as he glanced at me. I could feel it, his gaze burrowing into me, carving out my insides, hollowing me.

Dinner was unappetizing. I simply pushed my food around my plate, thinking of you, Ruth, how I wished you were sitting here instead of him. I wished we could share smiles across the table with our own secret shared between just the two of us because the way he smiled at me showed his secret, the secret I tried to make known only for it to be shoved into a box. The thing about a secret like that is that it’s not dying to get out. Whether it's known or not, a secret that is not cared for is not a secret.

We were all sitting in it. The mess he made of me. The secret between us, all of us, would simply stay here. I did not know whether my parents truly believed me or not. A part of me thought they did, but knew something like this would mean reshaping their worldview, something they weren’t ready for. But what about me? What about the little girl that had her world shattered by someone she was meant to trust wholeheartedly? 

"Adaline. Stop playin' with ya food and eat." Papa snapped. I stood abruptly, pushing my plate away. "'m not hungry. I'll just go to bed." I didn't wait for a response. I just left and no one tried to call after me because they knew. They all knew why I didn't want to be there, why I could feel myself growing angrier by the moment.

I lay in the dark on my bed with only the comfort of crickets and cicadas. With my ear pressed against the wall, I listened and the world fell silent. The creaks and groans of this old, withering house disappeared.

And then I heard him. His hymns, his slow, dragging footsteps weighing down the floors as he made his way to my bedroom. I fell into bed before he opened the door with my back turned to him.

"Adaline." He called my name and I shivered. The door clicked closed and I could hear the way his leathery fingertips rubbed his bible as if ready to open it to justify what he was about to do.

I stared at the cross above my bed the whole time. By now, I had known it intimately. The way every end comes to a decorated point, a golden carving of Jesus hanging from it, His blank lifeless eyes staring down at me, condemning me, berating me like I asked for any of this.

There was something here once. A little girl with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart. Undying love for her Lord, her Father, who would protect her from all.

I was defiled by him and when he kissed me, I wanted nothing more than to kill him. If I killed him, would it make me good? Would it make me holy? Would it make me whole again?

No…only you would make me whole.

I think– in his own way, he loved me. The sick, twisted kind of love. The love one has for a possession rather than a person. The kind of love that is ownership, a pet. I didn't want to be loved that way. And I didn't love him.

I will not go into detail what he did to me for I will never give him the satisfaction, but I was left in my bed with tears streaking my cheeks. I did not fight him. I never fought. Maybe I should have but you understand, right? At my core, I am just a child. What was I meant to do and if I hadn't done it, would that make me to blame?

I was not the same person in the morning. Like a layer of skin peeled off of me and left me cold, slimy, and trembling. I was reborn. He had molded me into a monster. I went to the bathroom to find myself staring at my own reflection. My hair was tangled and frizzy, the tips unkempt and ragged. My face was blotchy and red. And I wanted him to see me like this. I wanted him to know I wasn't afraid, I was angry. My eyes were wild and black as I stared accusingly into his already dead eyes. Do you know how many times he did this to me? How many times he has hurt me?

What would you do if you found out? Would you be outraged, threaten to kill him, to protect me? Or would you look upon me in disgust, finally see me for the unworthy, disgusting being I am. A fallen angel? A broken God?

I could feel him inside of me.

I sat unmoving at the table, my head down low. The world had felt so fragile, like it was about to shatter. And I didn't want anyone to see through my eyes because if they did, they would see that I was a demon. I was the one who should be burned. I was the one who cannot be forgiven. My mother brought me breakfast and it sat on the table in front of me, untouched.

  "Adaline? Ada, are you alright? I've made you a plate. Eat." She placed a cool hand on my cheek and that was it. How dare she? How dare she ask if I'm okay as if she didn't know, as if they all didn't know? They knew what he was going to do the moment he began upstairs and she had the audacity to ask me if I'm okay.

"No, Ma! I'm not okay! How could I be okay?!" I screamed, picking up my plate and tossing it to the floor. The glass shattered into fragments and my mother gasped in shock at my outburst. "Why didn't you protect me? Where were you when I needed you? Where was God when I needed Him?" Why was I sobbing? Why should I give anything to them? Why should they see me at my lowest?

Still in my nightgown, I left out of the door of our small, decaying house, littered in the judgmental eyes of Christ. I wanted you. I wanted you to hold me, to touch me, to tell me I am worthy, I am pure, I am Holy. So I ran to you, Ruth. I ran with my soft soles against asphalt and broken glass. I bled, leaving my sins in my wake with each footstep.

I wanted to run away from God, away from Him and take you with me. We could be more than all of this.

Who, but God above, if there even is one, would forgive me? Forgive me for being created with a sacred heart. Forgive me for being born into a world where my purity was meant to be coveted. Forgive me for being born a woman. Forgive me for being born with purity, with pain and suffering. Who here would forgive me? Who would be merciful enough to accept me?

I am an effigy of purity.

Do you blame me for this? Do you hate me as I hate myself? Do you blame God as I blame myself? Did he hurt you like this? Did he? Did he? Did he?

I ran through dirt and mud, through the cold, whipping wind as with early morning came frigid air.

My feet did not stop until I was at your doorstep and I knocked, hoping that you would answer. You and your brother were usually up by now, checking up on the dogs. But your Pa's old pickup was gone and I feared you had gone with him.

I heard the peephole open, heard you answer. "Ada?" you called, your voice weary and scratchy. I was scared you wouldn't open the door because this was too much, too fast. I need you to accept me. I need you to be the first to forgive me so maybe I can forgive myself.

"Adaline? Hun, what's wrong?" You opened the door and I fell into your arms, weeping.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I sobbed into your chest and you stood still, just holding me. I was in your arms for a long time, trying to calm my breathing, calm my heart.

"Good Lord, Sweetheart. What happened?" You asked, your voice pained as you pulled me inside. I stood in your kitchen and could only stare at the floor. You pulled out a chair and I sat down. The way you looked at me, I felt safe. I felt like enough. 

“Ya feet all bloody. Look like ya got the devil on ya heels." You left the room to grab a rag and soaked it in water to clean my feet just as Mary Magdalene did Christ. You were tender with me, taking my ankle in your slender, calloused fingers and cleaned the blood and dirt from my feet with diligence. I’ve never felt so loved, so cared for. You wiped my tears and told me it was okay, comforted me without interrogation, and stroked my head until I finally calmed down enough to speak.

“Now, tell me what’s goin’ on here. You scarin’ the daylights outta me.” You knelt before me with your hands on my soft, brown knees. Your eyes were earnest and open, ready to accept the wildest of all I had to say.

"He did it again," I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Who did what again?" 

"The Reverend. He defiled me again." I said, my eyes pleading for you to understand. I didn’t want to go into detail but with those few words, you knew all you needed to know. The thing about you, that I loved and appreciated, was that you didn’t look at me with pity in your eyes. I wasn’t suddenly something irreversibly broken to you. I wasn’t a victim. I was a person first and foremost. You looked upon me with sympathy, even empathy and accepted my accusation wholeheartedly, without question. That’s how much you loved me, trusted me.

You didn’t ask how it happened or try to deny or justify it. You just accepted it and loved me deeper, harder. You saw me, felt me and buried your face into my stomach. I wrapped my arms around your head. You held me, rocking us back and forth for a long time, holding onto my purity for me, for us, while I sobbed.

"It’s okay, Adaline. I’ve got’cha. I’m here for ya." You stood up and I followed, standing on my tiptoes to kiss you because you were so tall for a girl. Our lips grazed with the same tenderness seen in depictions of angels in church.

“I want to kill him,” I murmured against soft, yet dry lips. “I don’t want him to hurt me anymore. Please don’t let him hurt me anymore.” My fingers traced your deformed cheek with love and admiration for the beauty of it.

I knew I wasn’t wrong to see the darkness within you when you said, “I won’t, I won’t let him hurt you. Let’s kill him.” And that darkness that melted so nicely together with mine, made you all the more divine; all the more beautiful. I wanted so badly to be one with you and I’ve never loved you so badly. I kissed you again and you kissed me back, all while knowing that if your Pa caught us we’d be strung up as a spectacle of the devil. Your flesh tasted so bittersweet. I wanted to sink my teeth into your skin and consume you as we started to that night and I could tell you were holding back as well.

“Let’s do it tomorrow after church.” I needed him gone. I needed to bathe in his blood to make me pure once again. I’d take back what he had stolen from me. You soothed a hand down my arm and your fingers laced into mine. “What’s the plan?”

—

“Reverend Hall.” I stood with my fingers wrapped around the cross above my be behind my back in my favorite Sunday best. The white against my dark skin, the bow pinning my curly hair back, allowing the youthfulness of my face to show through. Round and chubby, a well-fed girl that hasn’t yet slimmed out from puberty. I knew it would entice him.

His thin lips curled into a smile. It was just the two of us in the church house after a late sermon. “Ada, what can I do for you?” He liked the look on my face, the innocent unawareness scribbled across my face. I was vulnerable and vulnerable meant easy. He knew I wouldn’t fight him.

“I am having trouble having faith in the Lord, Reverend.” My cross in my hand, given to me by my mother, the God that stood by and let me hurt, that protected all his secrets, would be his undoing.

He came down from his podium, off the stage where he would stand before the choir, and met me in the middle of the aisle. The sun hit the stained glass at just the right angle and it cast a rainbow across our faces. “Of course, child.” His hands reached out to cup mine, never without his sacred book. “I’m glad you came to me.”

I glanced past his shoulder as you came from your hiding place behind a pew. I smiled, at him and at you. “I’m glad I came too.”

You grabbed him, took him completely by surprise, and dragged him to the floor. You pinned his arms down while I got on top of him, straddled him the way he always did me. We were basked in the multicolored light of God. This act was holy. He was terrified, the same look of utter fear that would draw on my face every time he touched me. I had never felt so powerful.

My fingers wrapped around the cross, I rose it high above my head. “This is for everything you’ve done to me.” And I plunged it down into his beating heart. “You bastard! You sick!” I stabbed him again, “Twisted!” And again. “Bastard!” I didn’t know how many times I stabbed him but by the end, I was covered in blood and screaming, crying. I grabbed that Godforsaken bible he always carried around and tore the faded pages of them out. I jammed them into his bloody mouth, down his throat.

“Ada, Ada.” You reached out to me and cupped my face in your hands, stroking my cheeks with the pad of your thumbs without a single care of whether you get blood on you or not. I was free. I was pure. I looked at you and felt whole. I wanted to be one with you. You in me, me in you, no distinction between the two of us.

“He’s dead. He’s gone. We’ve gotta get out of here.” The two of us already had our things packed and in the bed of your dad’s pickup. Just the bare minimum. All we needed was each other.

You grabbed my hand and I grabbed yours as we rose to our feet. Together, we ran out of the church to escape this town so small it could never hope to contain the two of us. You in the driver’s seat and myself in shotgun, we rode off down the dirt roads leaving dust in our wake. We drive into the sunset, drive until we feel we’re far enough from our little hometown. You pull over on the side of the road so I can change beneath a streetlight.

But I couldn’t contain myself. I took you and I kissed you, the rush of it all. I’ve never felt so free, so unrestrained in everything I wanted. I loved you, Ruth. I loved you to death. Now nothing can keep us apart.

I kissed you, I bit you. I loved you. And you loved me just the same. The bitter taste of your blood coating my tongue, mine coating yours. The hunger we always longed for filled. We consumed each other, beyond the struggling, the pain.

They found us later on at the crack of dawn. Just a pile of flesh and bones, teeth marks everywhere. It was hard for them to determine who was who. We had accepted each other so thoroughly that they were forced to bury us with pieces of each other in our caskets. We filled our hunger for each other, our love so strong it became blasphemous. We ascended to something greater, something beautiful. Something whole.

We loved each other down to the bone.

[lineli225]

Shigaraki Tomura, Izuku Midoriya, and their past selves in Horikoshi's other works, an Analysis.

How their archetypes can be traced back all the way to Hori's oldest works!

Today I finally felt with the energy to write this analysis I've been cooking in my head for some months!

I'll be pulling apart the core elements of each of Hori's past work's protagonist duo and how they are essential to everything Hero Academia has became

It will be long.

First things first, let's start with Horikoshi's first work ever!

1. Tenko One Shot.

This tale tells us the story of two main characters, Hana and obviously, Tenko!

Hana is a woman aspiring to be a samurai, she is hopeful and stubborn, but is shunned down by most and ridiculed by other samurais for being, well, a woman wanting to be something only men can be.

But just like Izuku, she is VERY stubborn, and won't give up her dreams at all.

( You can read the full thing here btw! https://imgur.com/a/v7oBkfx )

Our second protagonist, and main tittle of the story, is a little boy called Tenko, who she meets when he literally attacked her lol

Like Tomura, he has the power to decay anything he touches, and is in seek of revenge, his goal is to destroy all swords after his mother was cruelly killed by a samurai.

Despite all the hatred the feels, he is still a kid, suffering and crying in seek of relief for his grief.

He is known as a vandal, and is being wanted dead or alive by the authorities for interfering in battles.

Hana, gentle and caring, notices the pain in Tenko and takes him with her, to take care of him, after all, he is just a child.

But after being found by an official, believes she has the chance to be recognized as a samurai if she give Tenko to the authorities, and well- it obviously goes terribly wrong- as she is attacked by them instead.

Suddenly realizing how cruel they truly are, she takes her own sword and fight them to defend Tenko, making Tenko also realize, swords can be used to protect and save.

In the end, they end up to saving each other, Hana saving Tenko's heart, making him realize his hatred will never lead anywhere, and lift the weight of his chest by winning a friend, and Tenko making Hana realize war is more than what she thought.

Tenko obviously, is literally Tomura's first prototype, the decay power, the white hair, the hatred, guilt and grieve are all there.

But what if I told you Hana is also, pretty similar to Izuku? Both have a dream that is deemed impossible to reach, due to something they lack, and are a joke to most people, but despite it all they never give up, and manage to reach their goals. They are also strong but gentle and caring ( ngl Izuku might even be more soft than Hana ajhdka)

2. Oumagadoki Zoo

This one, guess what, also have a female protagonist, yes also called Hana.

Aoi Hana is a bubbly, awkward and stubborn girl with her head in the clouds, but teased by everyone, known as "good for nothing" and useless.

She then decides to get a job during summer break, to prove she is more than capable of helping.

As an animal lover, she gets a job at the local Zoo as a cleaner, but she discover that the Zoon principal is a literal bunny person.

Shiina, the other protagonist of the story, is a man-child dude, he was cursed as a kid for being mean to a bunny, turned into a rabbit until he learned to be kind and help animals. Much like Tomura, he is short tempered, a gremlin, a little bitch!

He created the zoo to try to break the curse, and now counts with Hana's help to do so. The zoo, by the way, is also full of cursed half human half animal people!

The manga was canceled, so Hori had to rush the end, it has only 5 volumes, but I believe it would end with Hana finally breaking Shiina's curse.

Well, the similarities to Tomura? Once again through the roof, he is literally Tomura without depression (and scars and wrinkles)! He is a brat, selfish, intelligent and powerful, but incredibly dumb, he even refers to the other zoo people as "comrades" the exact same word Tomura refers the League of Villains as! They even sit down the same, careless way! Bad posture kings 🦐

Now, I think you noticed that Hana's story is also familiar? Yes! IZUKU

Both are deemed useless, are clumsy and awkward, and have pretty much low self esteem, but are kind, gentle and loving, and have an altruistic heart!

Just like in Tenko, Hana is key to saving Shiina's heart, and both learn a lot with each other, as Shiina sees the worth in Hana, and Hana sees the kindness in Shiina, evolving each other to the better.

3. Shinka Rhapsody One shot

This one is pretty much lost media, very few people know about it, but i found a thread about it

(thread here https://twitter.com/HeroFletch/status/1273054822162456578 )

It is literally MHA but the quirks work in a different way

This time the first protag is the man and the girl is the second, but it doesn't matter lol

The story happens in a world similar to the one of the raise of quirks in MHA, criminal rate is all time up.

The protagonist Magari/Masashi(idk) is, again, a guy with strong personality, seeking for revenge and power, as his family was murdered by a serial killer

He got a power similar to Kirishima's, but oh boy his face and personality is just Tomura all over again, Hori's favorite OC

And guess what??? Ohh he also has a female companion helping him???? YES HE DOES!

Her name is Aoi, yes, like Aoi Hana from the zoo one, yes guess what, yes, bubbly awkward, yes.

She is an aspiring detective and has the habit of asking people if they like Katsudon, her favorite food.

Wait... Katsudon? As favorite food... Where I saw this before-

4. Boku no Hero One shot.

here if u wanna read https://yesmangas1.com/manga/boku-no-hero-ym23733/one-shot#1

This one is a break to the pattern, no Shigaraki look alike, no Aoi Hana, but, someone who is pretty similar to her in personality:

Jack Midoriya

Jack Midoriya is a quirkless man in a super society, his job is to sell support items, but he is too awkward, clumsy and stubborn, causing more problems than helping, he has an impossible dream of becoming a hero, so he tries to become the first quirkless hero! (it goes wrong)

There is a girl in this story too, i guess she is this Izuku's Uraraka, they are both literally the same in personality, so i guess hori Split Hana in two for this one.

5. Barrage or Sensei no Bulge

(the second tittle is so funny lmao)

This time hori completly threw everything out and said: fuck the pattern, fuck Hana, fuck Tenko wanabe!

It has literally nothing to do with anything he did previously. Astro, can be similar to Izuku, but hmmm not fit the mold, so i'll just skip lmao, it also was canceled, ending in 2 volumes anyways.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION

So far, we can conclude a very recurrent pattern in every work Horikoshi publicized (except barrage lolz)

Protagonist 1:

Is a gentle, caring, stubborn, clumsy and awkward person, they have a heart of a hero, but are often seen as weak, useless, and stupid for dreaming too high. They can be strong when they want to, but feminine and loving too, they are altruistic, loyal, and focused. Their role in the story is to find their own self worth, as well as help the 2nd protagonist break free from a torment.

Protag 2:

A selfish, childish, mean and also stubborn boy, who's heart is filled with hatred, hurt and grief, they are cursed somehow, and besides having a rough exterior, deep inside they are still just a child who seeks relief. Their role in the story, is to after Protag 1 advances, open up and allow themselves to be saved in heart and mind.

Of course, due to the past series length of few pages to only a few volumes, they open up to each other and befriend rather quickly, but MHA is well- 40 volumes long by now, ofc course P.2 will give much more trouble to open up, it's not that easy to cure someone's bitterness and guilt!

Which leads to Horikoshi's last work, My Hero Academia.

The story of protagonist 1 incarnated as a mix of every character Hori wrote before as Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless boy who feels useless, but has a big dream, a kind heart and the desire to save.

And also the story of MHA's society's biggest victim, a childish man who has been hurt in every possible way, by every person he dared to trust, be it his own family or his "sensei", Tomura Shigaraki is nothing but a child at heart, crying onto his puppy, waiting for the one who will save him.

This is undeniable, I was already sure with everything I've read in MHA that Tomura is getting saved, Izuku yelled it himself, and the narrative is walking towards that.

But after analyzing Hori's part works, and see how wholesome and hopeful his stories are, how he desires to transmit the message that everyone deserves a second chance, i have no doubt.

Tomura is DESTINED to be not only saved, redeemed or live, but to have a happy ending and finally have a friend to trust.

As every story so far ended with the kind one befriending and becoming a pillar to the hurt one.

Izuku and Tomura are more than the heart of My hero Academia, but also the heart of everything Horikoshi wants to tell to the world.

They are fated to end the same way every time, in every universe.

BESTIES ARC IS COMING.

[glassofspoiledmilk]

omg I was trying to send in a request but I'm not sure if it went through cuz my internet cut off😭😭 hope you're doing well though！

originally was asking for a Yuri Plisetsky x Reader🥲 s/o that's really enamored by him, blushes n gushes over him！would love to cling onto him all the time, but refrains from dumping too much physical affection :p sorry if the first one went through but I couldn't tell 😭

First kiss

“If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?”

WC: 0.9k

Synopsis: You and Yuri have been dating for a while, while you love physical affection…he seems to be a little hesitant. This refrained you from kissing him, but he decides to change that.

“Hey Yuri, would you wanna go out tonight?” I ask as I wipe the snow off my blade, a smile plastered on my face.

“Sure, I’ll have to check with Lilia though, you know how much of a bitch she can be” He scoffs as he unties his laces.

“Awe cmon you know it’s just cause she cares!” I say as I ruffles his hair lightly.

His faces blushes a sweet shade of pink.

“Yea I guess..” He says, averting my gaze.

I let out a slight laugh.

Yuri had never been too big on physical affection. He always gets incredibly embarrassed at the smallest things, like if I hold his hand or move a piece of hair out of his face.

However, this has stopped me from doing anything more than just hand holding, specifically kissing. I’ve always wanted to kiss him, but judging by the way he gets embarrassed, and the numerous amounts of time he’s told me about his dislike for physical affection, I’ve refrained from doing so.

“Where would you wanna go? I think there’s a new Italian place nearby, but I’ll have to check” I add as I throw my skates into my bag.

“Sure, sounds nice” he replies, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks.

“Wear something cute ok?~” I wink as I get up to leave.

“Yea yea…” he says, looking away with a much redder blush than before.

“Love you, bye!” I add as I start on my way out the door.

“Love you too..” he grumbles, trying hard to fight off a smile.

I walk down the surprisingly warm streets of St. Petersburg. Spring was setting in, and days were getting longer, the perfect date night setting might I add.

I push open the door to my house and walk up to my bedroom.

I tiredly plop down on my bed and change out of my sweaty practice clothes.

After throwing on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, I looked in my closet for something nice.

Even if he wasn’t able to go out tonight, I still wanted to be prepared.

I decided on a white and blue floral dress to match the spring aesthetic, along with a cute pair of white heels. As I lay the outfit out on my bed I get a notification from my phone.

I quickly pull it out of my pocket, and see a text from Yuri.

“Hey, Lilia’s ok with me going out, what time were you thinking?” It read.

“Maybe 5:00?” I replied.

“See you then” he responds.

I shut off my phone and smile to myself excitedly.

Before it know it, it’s 4:00.

I hop into the shower and quickly wash my hair before stepping into the dress I picked out earlier. I carefully applied my makeup and curled my hair before placing on my heels and walking out the door.

“Bye mom, I love you!” I yell as I step outside.

The walk to the restaurant was a short one, only a bit further than the ice rink.

The time was 5:01, and as I approached the restaurant I saw Yuri standing outside in a white button down, and black dress pants.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous!” I say, greeting him.

He smiles slightly.

“Could say the same for you” he says blushing, a slight nervous tone in his voice.

We step inside and are greeted by the hostess.

“Table for two please” I say with a smile.

She brings us to a table in the corner of the restaurant, next to a big window.

“Did you have to convince Lilia to let you come?” I ask as I sit down.

“Only a little, but I promised to do extra conditioning tomorrow so she let me go” he replies.

“She’s really that strict with you?” I laugh.

“Yea, she acts like she’s my mom” he rolls his eyes.

The waiter comes over and we order our drinks, I got soda, he got apple juice.

“Apple juice, how classy” I chuckle.

“And soda’s more appropriate?” He laughs.

“Touché” I smile.

There’s a beat of silence before Yuri speaks.

“You know, you look very…nice tonight” he says averting my gaze.

“Awe, thanks. You look exceptionally handsome tonight yourself” I smile, slightly shocked.

It wasn’t often Yuri gave sweet compliments like that, but when he does, he means it.

“Thanks..” he smiles, the familiar blush plastered on his face.

“You don’t usually say stuff like that, what’s up?” I ask with a smile.

“I-I don’t know…I guess I’m just happy to be with you…that’s all” he says genuinely.

I smile and brush a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’m happy to be with you too Yuri~” I smile, still leaning forward.

There was a comforting silence, one where we could just look into each others eyes and understand what the other was saying without any words.

I felt his hand move hesitantly on the table, and then up to my face.

Before I knew it, he had pulled me in and kissed me.

I was caught off guard, but when I realized what was happening, I happily returned the action.

It was sweet and warm, and god I didn’t want it to end.

When he pulled away, I looked at him.

His eyes were wide, cheeks a fiery shade of red, and a lovesick look all over his face.

“Thank you..” I smile gently.

“No problem…” he replies with a slight smile.

And even though Yuri doesn’t show his emotions up front, you could tell he was happy.

A/N: I’m back! (Hopefully 😭) thank you anon for requesting 💞. I might start writing some criminal minds stuff so if any of you guys have any requests let me know! But other than that, happy reading!

[kelcemenow]

As The Snow Falls - Chapter 5.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2629

Warnings Some angst, some mentions of controlling behaviour and past trauma, slight smut and strong language.

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

"So, what are you going to do?" Amie looked at you with wide eyes.

You held your stare on the view out of the large window, the trees dusted in crisp, white snow, "I have no clue."

Amie sighed before taking a sip of her coffee, "Isn't it funny? If you'd have just both told each other how you felt back then, this whole situation may not have even happened."

"Yes, I see the painful irony."

"Like, you two could've been a couple by now."

"Amie-"

She widened her eyes, "You could've been married to him!"

You looked up in frustration, "Alright, stop it!"

Amie shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her chair. You took a deep breath and stared into your mug, a small amount of milk froth swirling on top of the brown liquid. You liked Travis, you liked him a lot. His presence caused you excitement, almost making you feel like you were back in college with a crush again. There was undeniable chemistry between the both of you and a sexual tension that you could hardly stand but something was holding you back.

"You're worried about being hurt again, aren't you?"

"I'm always worried about being hurt again."

Amie tipped her head, leaning forward to reach for your hand, "You need to let that go. You're never going to truly move on and be happy if you don't."

You could feel a lump forming in your throat, "But what if he finds me again?" You whispered.

Amie shifted to the edge of her seat, "And what if he doesn't?"

"I could never bring that drama onto Travis, it's not fair. It's not worth the risk." Your voice trembled.

"What's up, bitches?" Jasmine shouted as she pranced over to the window.

You turned away slightly to avoid her gaze and Amie retreated from you, smiling at Jasmine, "Hey, what's up?"

"Travis is rich, right?"

Amie glared at Jasmine whilst you looked at her from the corner of your eye.

"What do you mean?" Amie questioned.

Jasmine settled into the spare armchair that was situated next to you, her hands running through her hair, "You know, he's rich. He's just won the Super...something. So, he's gonna have some money behind him. He's famous. Not my idea of famous, but sports famous."

You snorted a sarcastic laugh which attracted her attention.

"Look, I know, you two were having some kind of moment in the hot tub earlier but I was thinking of asking him out." She crossed her arms, "I just wanted to check whether it was worth my time?"

Amie's mouth gaped open as she listened and looked to you for your reaction.

You stayed silent, clenching your jaw as she continued.

"He's brutally hot, don't get me wrong, but I need more than that. I need someone who can...keep up with me and my lifestyle, you know, financially."

You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brows, holding your nerve and your tongue as much as you could.

"So, what do you guys think?" She glanced between you and Amie with expectant eyes.

Amie cleared her throat gently, "I think, maybe you should get to know him a little better? See if you two are compatible?"

Jasmine laughed, "Oh, please. I'm compatible with everyone." She stood up from the chair and turned to you, "Y/N, can you put in a good word for me? You two seem...close." She said with a smirk.

"Uhhh, y-yeah sure." You stuttered.

You both watched as she floated away, her hips swinging and her head turning, seemingly in search for Travis.

Amie leaned forward to you, whispering, "You're not going to actually do it, are you?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"What kind of friend-? Are you kidding?" She hissed, "She has been vile lately. I mean, she's always been a bit...you know, but honestly, I think she's getting worse, Y/N. I can't believe you don't see it, she's walking all over you! Just like-"

"Just like Aaron did, is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes! He did and she's doing the same." Her face softened slightly, "I want you back, Y/N. I want the Y/N I know and love and became best friends with over three bottles of red wine and a Cup O Noodles!"

You exhaled a laugh and hung your head, "I'm still here...somewhere." Sighing, you rested back against the wall, "I didn't know if you had realised the date but it's been a year since I left him."

Amie nodded gently, "Yeah, I'd noticed but I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"A whole year, and he's still looming over me. Every date I go on, every new city I move to, every time I just walk down the street, I'm still worried that he's there. I answered my front door for the first time without panicking last week and I almost broke down crying at how amazing it felt. That's not normal, Amie."

"It is for someone who has been through what you've been through."

You smiled meekly, "Even if it is, I'm tired of it." You looked around the room, "I'm just tired full stop. I think I'm going to have an early night."

"That's probably a good idea. You've got an early ski date in the morning." She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it."

"What?" Amie laughed, "You told me you wanted to have an early ski in the morning and Travis apparently said the same thing. No reason you two can't go together?"

"I suppose so." You said as you rolled your eyes.

Amie giggled and reached across, pulling you in for a hug, "Just enjoy it. Relax...and see what happens."

You held your mug to your lips, hiding the growing smile of excitement on your face when Travis appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Ladies." He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer.

Amie stood up, smiling, "You'd best have your wits about you, Jasmine's on a hunt for you."

Travis quickly scanned the room, "What? Really?"

You pressed your lips together, "Yeah. She's set her sights on you and usually if Jasmine wants something, she gets it."

Travis laughed, "Well, she ain't getting me, man."

Amie threw her arm around Travis' shoulders, needing to lift up onto her tip toes to reach him, "It takes a brave man to deny the princess, I wish you all the luck in the world." She squeezed him before walking away.

Travis raised his eyebrows at you and turned on his heels, heading back upstairs with haste.

______________________________________________________________

You found yourself wide awake again, tossing and turning in bed as you struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position. Your stomach was churning and your mind was whirring with thoughts, mostly of Travis.

The gentle wind whistled through the trees and although the sound would usually ease you into a restful slumber, tonight it only mocked you and your inability to sleep at all.

Pulling the blanket away from your body, you felt the cool air wash over your skin and you sat up onto the edge of the bed. Your toes rested on the hardwood flooring and you rubbed your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands. Shaking your head, you stood up, heading straight for the bedroom door, your feet having no attempt to stay quiet. You quickly grasped the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and making your way down the corridor.

Your eyes strained to see in the dark and you held your hands out in front to guide you. When you reached the right door, you took a breath, your fist raising higher, a gentle knock alerting the person inside.

"Yeah?" Travis' muffled voice rang out through the door.

You quickly entered the room, pressing your back against the wood once you were inside. Your eyes fell onto Travis, relaxing in bed and scrolling through his phone. The sheets covered his body from the waist down, the fabric lightly draped across his legs. His bare chest made your knees slightly weak, his bulging arm muscles only making you worse.

He stared to you, dropping his phone to his side, "Y/N, is everything okay?"

You held onto the door behind you, "It is now." You breathed.

Travis raised an eyebrow, "I don't understand?"

"No, neither do I." You smiled and shook your head, "But as I was laid in bed just now, struggling to sleep...I realised that I just wanted to see you."

Travis' face lit up as he listened to your words.

"I always want to see you. I used to make sure I walked past the football field on my way to classes to double my chances of seeing you that day. After graduation, I made any excuse to go to back to Ohio just in case you were around. And I don't know why I'm telling you this-"

"I'm glad you are." Travis interrupted.

You pushed yourself from the door, taking a space on his bed, "No, but this is the thing. I have no idea what I want from this, I don't know. It would be so complicated-"

Travis shuffled closer to you, "It doesn't have to be."

"No, it would be. Because I am. I am complicated. My life...I've had some pretty fucked up things happen and I really don't want to drag you into it all."

Travis eye's flickered between yours, "I don't care, if it meant having you, bring it on." He reached out and held your hand in his.

You looked down at the bed and sighed, "I'm being serious, Travis. It's the reason I've moved around so much."

You paused as Travis stared intently, waiting patiently for you to open up to him.

"I...was with a guy. For a long time but slowly...slowly things didn't seem right anymore. He...he-"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, or if you can't right now." Travis' soft voice soothed you, his gentle touch on your hand easing your growing worries.

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, taking a long breath. You wanted him to know, you wanted him to understand but your head was telling you that it was all too much, too soon.

You shook your head and looked back into Travis' caring gaze, "It's late, I should go back."

You looked into his eyes, your heartbeat rising into your throat as he licked his lips. You leaned forward as he did the same, pushing the sheets away from his legs. His scent surrounded you and your skin tingled with how close you were to him, his hand slowly moving up your arm.

"Y/N, you wanna stay here?"

You nodded, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier. Travis' eyes widened and both of his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body slightly closer to him. The room seemed to fade away and all you could hear was your own heartbeat as Travis slowly leaned in and laid his lips onto yours. You stayed still, allowing his mouth to move across yours with ease. Your eyes fluttered closed and you slowly tilted your head to the side, parting your lips and allowing the kiss to deepen. You felt his hand move up to the side of your face, his fingers tangled in your hair. The kiss was passionate, but gentle and soft. You inhaled, allowing your own hands to explore him. His buzzed hair, sharp facial hair, solid shoulders and warm chest sent your senses into overdrive, your hands dragging themselves down his body. Travis shifted on the bed, allowing you to turn yourself more so that you were facing him. His thumb ran across your cheek, your skin tingling with goose bumps. When he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes opened and settled onto you, his gaze darting around your facial features with adoration.

His bottom lip twitched for a second before he took a breath, "We can just...lie here if you want? If you want to get some sleep?"

You smiled and shook your head, "No, I don't want to sleep anymore."

Travis' eyebrows lowered, just enough for you to notice, a slight expression of confusion before his hand returned to your face. His lips connected with yours once again, but with some more pressure and passion than before. With one hand keeping your balance on the bed, you rotated yourself and laid down, pulling Travis on top of you. His frame loomed over you, slightly to one side and his right hand roamed your body. His fingers dug into your hips, grabbing at you roughly and desperately. You writhed underneath him as he shifted himself fully on top of you, using his knees to pull apart your legs. His mouth moved to your neck and you gasped for air once you were free from the kiss. Travis hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh my God." Travis mumbled between kisses.

Your fingers ran up his bare back, "Are you sure about this?"

You waited for a response but Travis was too busy laying soft kisses down to your collarbone.

You tapped him lightly on his shoulder, "Like, are you sure this is what you want?"

His head lifted quickly, his mouth formed into a wide grin, "Are you kidding? This is all I've wanted!"

You smiled back at him, pulling his face to yours and as his arms slid underneath you, you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running it along your own and causing you to groan with pleasure. Something inside of you began to tighten, a burning sensation growing up into your chest. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel a wetness beginning to form on your pyjama shorts, Travis' hard mound pressing into you. One of Travis' hands roamed down to your ass, squeezing the firm but voluptuous flesh before sliding down to your thighs, his touch leaving goose bumps in their wake. His fingers danced at the hem of your shorts, gently lifting it and stroking your soft skin underneath.

You flinched as his touch grew closer to your slit and Travis quickly pulled away from you, studying your expression carefully.

"Are you okay?" He said, his voice thick with concern.

You nodded with closed eyes and cleared your throat, "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. Sorry."

Travis lifted his chest away from you, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you sure? We can stop if you want?"

You could feel your eyes moistening, "I...I'm sorry."

He stroked your hair gently before helping you to sit up, "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You sniffed and shook your head, "I want this, I really do."

"Hey, stop." He whispered, "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Your heart swelled as he spoke, his sweet and caring nature making you smile.

He tenderly pushed some hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek for a few seconds, "How about we just get some sleep? Apparently, I'm a pretty good big spoon?" He winked, followed by his classic charming smile.

The corners of your mouth curved upwards as you giggled, "Yeah, okay. Thank you, Travis."

He shifted himself over to your side as you laid back onto the bed, "It's okay. I got you."

His arm rested itself across your stomach before pulling you closer to him, the curves of your body fitting perfectly alongside him. You felt his lips lay a gentle kiss on your temple, his soft and steady breathing relaxing you completely as your chest began to rise and fall with his.

______________________________________________________________

I finally got it out! I'm sorry to everyone who has been waiting but I've had a very busy couple of weeks! This story has a couple of more episodes left in it and if I'm completely honest, I'm going to miss it! If you want to be added to my Taglist, please let me know and I will of course add you to it so you never miss another chapter!

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[cupidscrule]

OLD ENOUGH 2 DIE

Re4 Leon X Fem! Reader

Tw - drug trafficking

P in v, finger stuff

You were a spoiled bitch, had daddy's money to take care of anything.

"Daddy - pleasee com'on It's only 2k, can you transfer the money? Yay! Thank you daddy mwah"

Spoken into the brand new phone you got, you had money, had everything. Never went a day without living like a queen, never understanding poor people 'ugh why can't you just work harder? Honestly it's not that hard ' said to thousands of waiters at 5 star restaurants. Never even tipped em, throughout high school you were a dick to everyone, if they weren't hot and skinny. Classic mean girl to be honest

"Hunny, absolutely not. We can all tell that bag is a fake, it's embarrassing.. you should honestly thank me for telling you how stupid you look.."

"Oh! That's not.."

"Babes, you know I want the best for you so.. that dress really makes you look fat, maybe wear something more flattering?"

Backhanded comments were your LIFE, had every privilege, didn't even try in school. Just sucked and fucked your way to A's, but you were hot so it's fine! It doesn't matter if the pretty girl makes the slug kill herself? She's all innocent, everyone who tried to defend you was hilarious. "Oh she's just insecure!!" Bullshit, no you weren't? You just hated all those chicks. Rightfully so, they were all annoying whores.

You were just treating them how they deserved to be, not like any of them had a future besides sucking dick.. you're different though, that's what you always told yourself. Sure you dressed like a skimpy bimbo, fucked the sports team twice. But you're different, an exception to the slut rule..

"Daddy can you send me an Uber? I don't have enough money in my account. Dad I said I spent it all shopping- no dad please- it's gonna be night soon, I NEED an Uber. Daddy? UGH" stomping your feet, making your own little hissy fit in the middle of the street, clutching the little pink fur purse you bought, looking around at all the people staring at you. Pout on your face and brows furrowed, throwing your phone on the ground and walking away, you were a good half hour away from home, and these boots were NOT made for walking. They were brand new plus, wouldn't wanna ruin em. And to top it all off it was freezing cold, like -15C. All you had was a white fur coat belted around your waist, with stupid little ear muffs. Couldn't even find matching gloves, freezing cold at Six PM alone on a Friday night, with no phone .. what a perfect day!

Stomping off not really knowin' where you're going isn't that smart though, but you were never a smart kid. Never did drugs or anything like that, just not very smart in the real world. Couldn't read signs, or fight, or have basic common courtesy. Shuffling your feet through the snow for god knows how long till tik street lights flicker on. By this point you got no clue where you are, started off downtown now you were in the middle of fucktown with nothing you recognize, see this is why daddy should've moved to a smaller town after The business deal, that way cops wouldn't be on his ass and you would know where you're going. Sure DC was the place to be! Except for the fact it's the stupidest place to be if your main source of income is drug trafficking, you didn't care where daddy got his money as long as you got it in the end. But what you did care about is when daddy refused to be smart about his shit. Like what are you on if you think moving to Washington is a good idea after makin' a major deal, you're dad was important. He was wanted for a lot. But you didn't do anything wrong, you're innocent! So you never cared about what would happen if dear old dad got caught, he could buy himself out of trouble just like before.

Still aimlessly walking up and down the streets trying to find anything identifiable when you hear footsteps behind you.

Turning your head to see who's behind you, and it's a taller man with blonde hair, it's getting dark so there's not that many details. He's wearing  really weird clothes, just staring at you, his eyes narrow and look at your face in the flickering lights before opening his dumb mouth

"Listen, we can make this easy kid. Just come with me back-" he started speaking, stepping towards you. Immediate nope, fuck that, the police actually caught the hell on? AND THEY WENT AFTER YOU? Worst day ever, dropping your bag and making a run for it just like daddy said.

"Sweetie, if the cops ever find you, and are onto you. Run. And run far."

Never actually thought what that old sack of shit said mattered, I mean nothing bad ever happens to you.

Running around corners, frantically, heart racing, why, why, why, why. You had NOTHING to do with daddies private shit, if anything you're a victim to his crimes.. yeah victim! I mean dad was a creep sometimes, huggin' a bit too tight, grabbing your ass like you were his girlfriend. Even though mom was dead for a long time, he never got over her and I guess you looked closest to her?

Running into an alley way, like any smart fucken girl would, totally. There was a chain link fence, then what looked like a field leading to someone's apartment building? Pretty sure someone from school lives there, yeah Milo in Chem 100% does he's the welfare kid and this was the poor side of town. Bingo.

"Ah- not so fast"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Don't even reply, no don't reply, you have about five fucking seconds before getting dragged away and everything taken away. Pathetically trying to pull yourself over the fence, y'know if you really tried you could do it. But you don't try. Feeling a hand grab your ankle, pull you down ripping your cute coat, if you're gonna kidnap a girl at least keep her shit nice damn. He throws you down, trying to scramble up only to get immediately knocked out and your unconscious body dragged away.

"fuck" you mutter under your breath, opening your eyes drowsy, vision kinda blurry but you can see everything, trying to move your hands and legs but then feeling the rough rope press against your sensitive skin, looked like you were an old ass storage unit, some boxes piled up in the corner, walls looked rusty. A table in the middle of the small room, and a guy just standing there. Few seconds later lights flicker on, they're dim but you can now see detail in everything. That includes your unknown kidnapper? Or agent? Or cop? He wasn't really dressed like any of them, wore a dark blue t shirt,tactical black pants, and black gloves. Not sure what profession of people wear that, plus he was too cute to just be a random kidnapper, pretty blonde hair with gorgeous blue eyes and a muscular figure.

"Oh you're awake, huh thought that would've taken longer." He says eyes darting towards you as you try to wiggle out of the rope, it's tight. "Who the fuck are you? Where's my dad! Do you even know who I am?" You say acting as if your dad was a fucken celebrity and not a filthy pig. You knew you were in a deep fucken mess, so when in doubt, lie. Lie about everything, you're innocent, no Mr. officer my father would never! You have the wrong girl I'm just a highschooler !

"Don't play dumb missy, cut the shit. Let's get to the point, I know your dear old dad is involved with a lot. And so are you, aren't you? So why don't you tell me where dad does all his importing and where he gets the shit from, hm?" He says coldly, almost as if he's talkin' to a little kid. "I don't know what you're talking about. Just let me go!" You whine staring up at him, he's just standing infront of you arms crossed over his chest, getting a better look at him, he wasn't just a random guy, he looked important. Didn't know why though, a sigh comes from his lips as he blinks slowly at you, "honey, I really don't wanna get messy. Just hand over the information and you can go back to doin' whatcha do, I don't care." He said, arms still folded over his chest, he was a good fifteenth-ish feet away from you and your chair, you grit you teeth, brows furrowed as you stare at this guy. Pissed off, "don't call me honey, I told you I don't know what you're talkin' about." You mutter to him, pout on your stupid lips.

"You're a bad actor, it's really obviously. Plus you're on file, darling. Now can you just tell me the important stuff?" He said putting on an obvious fake begging face, puppy eyes and all. You were trying to get untied, only getting rope burns on your wrists, squirming and whimpering in that tiny wood chair. "I didn't do anything, I don't know what daddy does to get money.. talk to him not me" you say batting your lashes, pushing your face out towards him, he takes another step forward. Putting his arms down, lookin' at you like you were some thing he found on the bottom of his shoe. "You have the face of a pornstar" he says out of the fucking blue, such a handsome voice but such a shocking thing. "I'm in highschool, pig." You scrowl jaw clenched, tone change from 'inccocent little girl' to 'raging bitch.' like a public appearance vs how you act in private. "Mm, well you're eighteen now correct? Nothing's wrong with that now is it? And it's just a fact, you've fucked and sucked your way up. No way someone like you is about to pass, in truth you're a pathetic attempt at human and a failure of whatever we can even call your sorry ass. But at least you make up with it for a massive rack and cute face"

Ouch. Okay.

Words didn't even form, jaw dropped, eyes shocked. Honestly not even knowing what to say, what do you say to that? 'oh yes sorry Mr man you're right I'm a dirty slut!" Absolutely not, because you aren't. "So, you gonna answer me?" He says, he's just a few feet away from you, leaning down to your whiny ass face. A small smirk on his dumb lips,

"fuck. you."

He just looked blankly, at you, almost dumbfounded by how much of a fucking MORAN you were, tied up in small place, no one knows where you are, daddies house is probobly getting raided and he's waiting in jail or has twenty bullets through his back while you're agonizing this man five times your size whom you are at HIS mercy. But hey, it could be worse. He could've killed ya already, he obviously needs you alive. So you're safe, for now. He cups your chin making you look at him directly

"You're such a dumb whore." He whispers letting you go, can't lie he's hot, feeling a throb in your legs, lump in your throat and pushing your thighs together, dumb little slut. Just fuck my brains out already oh my god.

"Seriously? Getting horny in an integration, fuck little missy you really are a freak." He says laughing to himself looking at your pathetic bitch display, all dumb n needy, breath rasp and heavy, feeling an emptiness only filled by fat dick, staring at the man, didn't even know his name, never told ya. He gets close up again and sticks to fingers in your mouth, pushing them back. Your tounge running around them, sucking, like a good little fuck doll. Sloppy and all wet, pulling his index and middle finger out your mouth saliva dripping off of it, stupid ass smirk on his face rubbing his fingers down your chest, over your pretty white shirt and over your tits. You're still bound to the chair, wanting nothin' more then to get bent over and fucked till you can't even remember daddies in trouble, this entire moment is just pure lust. He gives you the look like, 'is this what you really want? Seriously?' and of course you reply with a

"I'll answer you if you give me what I want."

That's all it took for him to untie you from that god forsaken chair, just to tie your hands together again. Push you onto your back, pressing your thighs apart. You aren't wearing much, your coat was gone lost somewhere in the ally, only wearing black shorts and a white top. Stupid for the middle of winter but it was hot.   He takes out a small switch blade from his pocket cutting open your shirt and shorts off, pornstar tits popping out in a little pink bra also exposing the matching panties. Even all finished off with a cute little bow, unzipping his pants his dick springs out, your pussy THROBBING, aching. He cuts the shit off and pushes you firmly on the ground, your arms still bound above your head, his chest just over yours pushing into you, stretching you open. His tip resting nicely in your cervix when he starts rockin' back and forth. Hitting you all the good spots, moaning n' a mess, hes pretty much silent groaning here and there when he speeds up, lifting you up slightly, more like your at an angel on him, he grips your back and rocks you back and forth, feeling your walls tighten  around him feeling all numb and high, cumming over his fat cock, his pull out games fast. Just as you finish he pushes you back on your neck and unloads on your stupid face, 'before grabbing you lazily and pressing your body against his, you were all dumb and covered in your own mess. But he was gentle with you, soft, he was nice. Nicer then anyone else had been, softer then anyone else despite fucking your brains out. His breath was heavy as he held onto you, chest to chest. Can't tell if he's doing' this cause he feels some sort of pity for you but fuck if you care it's comforting, you felt all warm and fuzzy. Weird.

"Please don't leave me here."

"I know you're eighteen, years old, but you're still old enough to die. Right here. Right now. So talk"

[ethanlvndry]

Title: Fuck you too.

Pairing:Ethan Landry xfem!black!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, death, injury, crying, angst. I haven't seen VI yet, so I might have stuff wrong.

Summary: After the incident with your ex in Woodsboro, Amber Freeman. You find yourself seeking comfort with Chad's roommate. Ethan Landry. What happens when a repeat of Woodsboro starts up in college?

😨🔪ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴠɪ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ🔪😨

Here I was, drinking at a frat party. I'm trying SO hard to forget about my ex. Amber. The one who would help me cut my hair, the one who would help me get up after a hangover, the one who would help me steal. Oh, Amber...

I can't believe I still think of her like this. As if she didn't literally slit a gash, now a scar, in both my arm and leg. She was older than me by 2 days, but we would celebrate our birthday the day after her's.

While I continue to sulk at the bar in the house, I heart commotion. About 3 voices, 2 of them sounding familiar. Like Chad, and Tara's.

I dump the rest of my drink in the sink and toss my cup into the overflowing trash can.

"Hey partner, Tara's fine down here." You hear as you get closer.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?" A rando in a white outfit remarks.

"Yeah you did"

"No chad- I want to!" Tara jumps in

"See Chad? She wants to." The rando taunts.

The white clad guy then begins to practically drag Tara up the stairs, ignoring her exclaims of discomfort. Chad acts on instinct and pulls him by the shirt, dragging him back down the stairs.

"Get the fuck off me!" The rando says while shoving Chad back. It starts to just go back and forth with the insults and shoves, while Tara is trying to break them apart, Sam appears. With a taser.

I would've laughed had I not been processing being shoved by her as she came over here.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick.

She quickly takes him in his..well..balls. Then, she gets pushed back a little as the dude falls to the ground, screaming in pain.

"Fucking bitch!" He exclaims

"Sam, are you fucking kidding me? Are you stalking me now?" Tara asks as she bolts for the exit to leave

I hear people beginning to talk about Sam being a Pshyco, and try my hardest to keep my smirk hidden. Now she knows how it feels.

I mean, I've been suspected of being a secret killer, since Richie was talking about some-

"Your time is coming soon [name], you'll see!"

I get shivers thinking about it.

I'm pulled out my thoughts as I feel a cold hand begin to drag me out the door. I pull it back.

"C'mon [name], we have to go." Anika exclaims

"Why do I have to go? It's not like they trust me enough to want me to be there." I retort back

She gives me a look that has be melt, and just follow her lead out the door.

"Tara! Can you stop?!" I hear Sam say.

"I can't believe you did that! You fucking embarrassed me!"

"That guy was a dick! He was gonna take advice of you!"

"So? If I want to hook up with an asshole that's my decision. It's MY decision. It's not wbout you-I mean, you were out of my life for 5 years - then you can't leave me alone for 5 minutes!"

I try to listen more into their argument, but I'm interrupted by Chad's roommate greeting me with a small hello.

"Hey! Crazy night, huh? I mean, we weren't even there for an hour, and somebody got tased in the balls"

"Yeah! I like your costume, by the way. You're supposed to be Domino from Deadpool, am I right?"

"Yeah, and you're an...uh, a knight?"

"Yeah, I know. I made it in less than an hour. It looks trashy."

You rock trashy really well. I want to say, but, I can't. Not after what happened with Amber. I instead go for a laugh that makes him laugh in return.

"I feel kind of out of place. Wanna go to my dorm?"

He asks. I widened my eyes at how quick the conversation went from that time this. He must've seen my slight discomfort because he began to profusely apologize to me.

"Ethan. HEY! Don't worry. I understand how you feel right now. We can go, but let me tell everyone first."

I see him slightly relax at my confession.

"Hey, you guys! I'm going over to Ethan's dorm if you need me"

I watch as they all kind of ignore me except for Anika, only for a split second when she returns to her conversation with Mindy.

We split off from the group, now on our way to Ethan, and Chad's dorm. When we get there it's awkward. Us not really knowing why it got to this point. Then all of a sudden.

"You wanna fuck?"

Shit. Way to make somebody uncomfortable [name].

"Y-yeah, but we have to stay on my side. Otherwise, Chad will kill me."

I walk over to him and straddle his hips as we start locking lips. Oh, this was gonna be a good night.

♡♡♡

It's been a couple of days since Ethan and I slept together. Tara and Sam were being attacked while Ethan and I were lying down with each other. Well, we were lying down with each other. I had woken up a few times finding that he wasn't next to me anymore. I was so tired that I just lied right back down.

I've been feeling a little sick since we slept together, though. I at first blamed it on the food from the party. But as time went by, I started thinking of other reasons. Pregnancy being one of them. We didn't bring a condom since neither of us thought we would be doing stuff like that, but we ended up just being so into it, I'm not even sure if he pulled out. Everything that happened was a blur.

This morning before I came over to The sister's, and Quinn's dorm. I went to the convenience store to buy some tests.

I planned to take them at Sam house, but now we're sitting around the table getting ready to eat, and all I can think about is Ethan, I tried calling him, but it went straight to voice-mail. I was beginning to get worried. But then Sam snatched my phone, implying that I was trying to contact the killer.

I roll my eyes at her obviously hesitant behavior and the fact none of the "core four" was standing up for me, but push my anger back down.

Then we all hear a ding come from our phones simultaneously. We all open them up to see an image of a dead Quinn. We look at Quinn's door, hearing struggling, and then silence. The door is suddenly banged open, with Quinn's body hurling on top of Anika and I. We push her off of us, and we all scatter across the apartment.

I run towards the table to get the unopened bottle of whiskey and smash it on the Ghostface's head. They then turn towards me, sticking their knife up and impaling me through the shoulder. I screech as they twist it inside, rubbing the pain in.

Mindy then gets a knife block and hits them on the head, causing them to pull out the knife and fall on the floor. We run into Quinn's bedroom and see that her fling is dead in the tub. Of course, Mindy has to announce it as dramatically as possible.

We then push the storage shelf in front of the door to keep the killer out. As I'm holding the shelf to the door, Mindy points out how much blood Anika is losing. Sam then opens up the window, and I almost laugh at the idea I know she's conjuring up.

The ladder.

I see Tara, Chad, and Sam's new love interest across the window, urging her to cross. She masters up a sigh before beginning her trek across the buildings. As she's making it over, I see Mindy and Anika having one last kiss before Mindy crosses the ladder. When she crosses, I tilt my head at Anika's reluctance in crossing before me.

"Go [name], you have more of a chance of making it across!" She says

" There's no way in hell I'm leaving you! Somebody has to hold the door, plus they actually like you!"

"GO, AND HURRY" She yells

I quickly let go and climb through the window onto the ladder. The adrenaline starts to wear off as I realize how far above ground I am. I make it before it completely wears off. Now, it was Anika's turn.

She limps over to the window, starting to steady herself, when she starts to panic. Not only from the height, but from the stab wound she received minutes ago.

"I can't do it!" She cries

We all urge her to come holding our hands out, and then we see movement behind her. Seeing Ghostface broke into the bathroom.

"What?" She asks

"Anika, you have to move right now!" Mindy exclaims.

Anika looks back to see how close Ghostface is and sees how he stabs his knife into the sill.

She cries no as he starts to tilt and shake the ladder whilst she's crossing. I reach further out the window to pull her over and feel somebody's pulling me back by my sweater.

" Take my hand Anika!"

She inches her hand closer to mine, our fingertips now brushing, I push myself out further, to the point I'm partially on the ladder. I grip her sweatshirt and pull her into me, her leg getting stuck, then a Crack sounding out. She screams. I keep on pulling until she falls through the window on top of me.

"You're okay Anika, you're okay."

I say while patting her head as she sniffles and sobs into my wounded shoulder. I grimace at the way her leg is bent but choose to ignore it as I let her cry out to her hearts content. I then hear police sirens and look out the window only to see Gjostface gone, along with their knife.

I purse my lips at another loss for us. We have severe wounds that could and would affect us physically and mentally.

♡♡♡

We all sit in the back of an ambulance in blankets as I see someone getting closer to us.

Ethan.

"Hey! Where the fuck were you?! You're gone and my sister almost dies!"

"I was at Econ, ask the hundreds of people I was there with."

I bite my lips at the apparent possibility that Ethan might be the killer. I don't wanna believe it, but I know better than to let feelings get in the way of my logic.

"It's always Econ with you! The same excuse with you over and over again!"

"[name], back me up here, please."

I go to open my mouth, but close it as I realize I'm at a loss of words.

Ethan scoffs before walking off, not before muttering a cold, curt "thanks a lot" towards me.

I call out his name, but the distance between us starts to increase. Him now appearing as a tiny dot.

A nurse comes over to give me my vitals.

"We scanned over your torso and shoulder, it appears you have a broken rib and a dislocated shoulder. Nothing to severe. I suppose you already know?"

"Know what?"

"You're pregnant! With twins at that!"

My mouth, along with the rest of the groups, hangs wide open.

"Hm. I Guess I should leave you to have a chit chat with your friends about it since they seem involved with you?"

She then scurried away to go deal with the casts getting prepared for Anika and I.

"Who's the father?"

A few seconds go by before she repeats herself. A little firmer this time.

"They're...Ethan's"

The group then makes worried faces at my suddenly outburst of sobs as I realize what I got myself into.

♡♡♡

I try to text Ethan only to find out he blocked me. I've thrown up about 3 times in the past half an hour from how much I've been crying. I can't raise two babies by myself. I've been thinking about an abortion ever since I found out. I don't believe either of us would be willing to step up and take care of them.

I tried to call Ethan through Snapchat because he hasn't blocked me through there yet. But my call gets declined faster than I can blink, leaving me there to sulk and cry about the predicament I got myself in.

♡♡♡

We're now at a weird shrine for the stab movies, actual stuff from the murders in the abandoned theater. Gale showed us this place. Her now being in the ER from a Ghostface attack. We are all wandering around looking at things when all of a sudden, a Ghostface pops up slashing at Tara and I.

We both run into Chad and Sam who are running away from another Ghostface as we go down a hallway, Chad begins to do stuff to get them of of our trail. That however, ends up with him having his flesh audibly ripped by the knives of the killers.

Tara's screaming, piercing everyone's ears as she watches him tell her to leave, like a hero. Sam grabs Tara so she doesn't run towards them, and I follow them. We run into Kirby, her having blood on her head. Detective Bailey then appeared, gun instantly pointed at Kirby. A shot sounds out Kirby on the floor.

The Ghostfaces then take their places by Deetective. One of them revealing themselves as the father of the twins inside of you. Ethan Landry. And the other as Quinn who appeantly faked her death.

As they reveal themselves as relatives of Richie. I can feel Ethans gazs on me, I quickly look at him only to find that he's smirking.

This fucking asshole is smirking.

Bet he won't be smirking when I tell him that he's a father.

Quinn charges towards us, Tara shutting her down with a brick. Her losing some teeth. She then tries to go for me, but I say-

"Not so fast, Quinn, wouldn't wanna hurt your little Nieces, or Nephews, right?"

She let's the information settle into her brain before she realized that you told her you're pregnant with her brother's children.

While she's distracted, I angle the sharp side of the knife towards her shoulder. A screech coming from her bloodied mouth. Giving me enough time to get away.

As I'm running. I hear footsteps behind me, causing me to speed up and take harsh turns that could confuse whoever behind me.

I crouch behind a couch, only to be met face to face with Ethan. He grins sadistically pushing on my healing shoulder wound. My eyes widened at how he knew where it was when I didn't tell him anything about my wounds.

"Y'know, it was me at the apartment. I felt bad after I got you, but I mean, you did help kill my fucking brother with that bitch Sam"

My eyes begin to well up with tears from how quick his personality changed. From shy nerd to crazy creep. I then feel a pain in my abdomen as I was about to tell him to fuck off.

As my vision starts to darken, I mutter out my confession about being pregnant and chuckle at the still apparent way his face changed.

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I got lazy at the end if you didn't notice, by the way part 2, or should I leave it alone.