#cursed fanfiction

[anthony-crowleys-left-nut]

i read the cream cheese fic and quite honestly i had a great time being disturbed and amused by it. 10/10 for the experience; that shit was an adventure

[yellows-secret-blog]

Did you think that I was joking? (WIP)

Context: this is a John Doe x Jesus Christ x Kayne fanfiction I said I was going to write and I'm fullfiling that promise

It will be (hopefully) finished until next week on your nearest ao3

Imma go to hell anyway who cares

[shallowseeker]

thinking about two swords today @deweys-posts

ALASTAIR You know, it was supposed to be your father. DEAN pours out more holy water. ALASTAIR He was supposed to bring it on.

[captainbucky-yt]

"You're Not What I Was Looking For"

-- The Weeping Monk x OC (fem)

Chapter 68: to love so fierce [ ao3 ]

Chapter Summary: Ari and Lancelot make the most of their final night before war.

Content Warning: Smut/explicit/mature content. MINORS DNI. M/F nudity. Minor praise kink. Minor sub/dom. Vaginal fingering/penetration. Hand jobs. Oral M/F receiving. Edging. Unprotected M/F intercourse (wrap it before you tap it, guys)

Taglist: @trenko-heart @nike90 @moonlightaura03 (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

Exert:

Lancelot dragged the roughness of his beard along her jaw, leaving a burning trail in his wake.

“Turn around," he instructed.

The depth in his voice had want and need flaring through Ari’s body. 

Lancelot’s grip moved to either side of her hips as Ari turned herself around and pressed her shoulder blades to his chest, arching her body into his wandering touch. His fingers slid deftly over her hips, across her stomach, and then tugged upon the half undone binding over her chest. She breathed out in relief as the cloth fell away.

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. Dipping his fingers down between her legs and branding her with the first curl of his index.

“Ohhh—” Ari buckled with a whimper at Lancelot’s delicate touch on her mound, feeling the hard press of his length against her rear. She’d forgotten all about the golden crown braided into her hair until it nudged against his collarbone, too lost in Lancelot parting her folds to reach up and work the braids apart. She pushed her hips back, delighting in the grunt she earned from him.

Across her body, Lancelot wrapped his forearm and hugged her tight. She held on while his fingertips massaged between her legs, and stars began to creep in to the darkness of her shut eyes.

“Nobody touches you like this—” Lancelot said with a warning as harsh as velvet in her ear, rubbing his cock up against her ass— “but me, remember?”

Ari chuckled lowly despite herself, remembering how much his tongue had boldly ran away from him the last time they fucked. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

[pandorasboxoftreasures]

I’ve got enough trauma and rage without this!

After going to see the movie again with a friend, she started asking me about if there was any “dodgy fan fiction”. Because I warned her about the Tiktok thirst edits and back when I last looked there was only about 2. It got me curious so I went looking.

...

By Waheguru some of those people need to be shot.

ESPECIALLY THE ONES WRITING QUARITCH X SPIDER AND JAKE X ANY OF HIS KIDS GIVE ME YOUR ADDRESS YOUR RECKONING IS COMING NOW I’VE SOLD EVERYTHING I HAVE EXCEPT A SCRAGGY OLD WIFEBEATER RIP OFF CROCS BOARD SHORTS AND AN OODIE SO I COULD GET THE PLANE TICKETS I AM TYPING THIS USING A CYBER PET I STOLE FROM A CHILD AT THE AIRPORT! YOU ARE DEAD! 

FFFFUUUUCKIIIINNNNG DEEEEAAAAD!!!!

[cralaofmandalore]

The fic continues with it's curse, as coolen posted a video talking about it, war broke out in Israel. Guess where I live?

Shout out to the day i killed the queen via AO3, legendary (name of the fanfic is jigens sick adventure, yes it is a sickfic)

[kriz-smthn]

[jazzmasternot]

He’s a red flag but red means good fortune and love in my culture 😘

[choccy-milky]

herbology class 🌹🌿 (from chap 2 of my fic!)

[canterbury-bell]

More fanart for @beanandberry's This Love Is Ours 💗💗💗

[kcokaine]

It's out guys!!!

link

Put 4 weeks of my life into this with my friend, please consider checking it out.

Our passion project for Sukugo <3

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 140

"What?" Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow. "I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats. "How-" "You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning." "...You were a werewolf this whole time?" "..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie." "Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?" "No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross." "...You've not transformed in towns, have you?" "No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained." A long pause settles between them. "You want me to guard you?" "Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt." Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't. Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it. "You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied. Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising. "It's coming- I'm going to be a beast." Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes.... In... Into a songbird? sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it. Him. Oh my gods. Jaskier's not a werewolf. He's a... were.... werebird... And not even a scary one. Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough. "Jaskier, it's too deep." He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings. "Jaskier, you're going to-" Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands. Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.

[izelthewashbear]

LOOK AT MY MAN'S SKIN

Remember when I described his eyes in Canary's thrill, the first to kill as turning rosy pink? THIS IS WHAT I MEANT YIPPIE

This outfit will, for sure, make an apperance in the next few chapters

[ellecdc]

Okay after many many thoughts I think I've got it!

Barty showing up to the gryffindor quidditch after party (cause James and Sirius are great players and know what they're doing) bloody and bruised cause he overheard some butthurt slytherins talking shit about James and their girl. And he wasn't gonna let that slide.

I'm not sure if it's clear, but this is in regards to the darksun x reader were talking about yesterday 😅

oooooooof ok.......*throws this at you all and runs* NEW SHIP ALERT: I'm new to this, be nice to me hahahahaha

poly!darksun x fem!reader at a bloody Gryffindor afterparty

CW: Barty shows up bloody and bruised but he's chuffed about it, reader won't stop slapping Peter [it's not that serious], Sirius is not that serious -> pairing = james potter x reader x barty crouch jr

It had been perhaps only 25 minutes since the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw game ended and the afterparty in Gryffindor tower was already in full swing.

And what Remus meant by full swing was that Sirius was literally swinging from the chandelier, Marlene and Lily were challenging one another to a game of ‘who could spin the most times without getting sick’ (which Remus felt was a game that everyone was going to lose), and you and Peter were halfway through a very intense muggle card game called slap which did indeed involve slapping and, apparently, swearing and trash talk. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Peter muttered as he rubbed the back of his hands dejectedly.

“Gonna have to be faster than that, Wormy.” You taunted as you collected his pile of cards.

“Oi, if she has so much as one welt on the back of her hand, Pete; there will be hell to pay.” James called as he came up behind you.

You turned to look at James then, and Remus was sure your smile was nearly blinding in your excitement and energy if James’ lovesick look was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah Prongs; she’s sodding winning by a landslide anyways, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Peter muttered (rather petulantly for only having lost a round of a silly card game if you asked Remus).

“I don’t think it’s Prongs you have to worry about, my dear Wormy.” Sirius called from his new home in the chandelier, nodding towards the entrance as Barty stepped through the portrait hole. 

Remus watched as both you and James seemed to melt now that your third was here. He knew that it hadn’t been easy persuading Barty to participate in such “Gryffindorian displays of pompous pride” as he had called it, but you had somehow been able to convince him to celebrate the team’s wins if not only for James’ sake. 

And, as Sirius would pretend, maybe a little bit for his sake as well. Remus didn’t have the heart (nor the patience) to tell him that was a fat chance. 

“I’m not afraid of Junior.” Pete muttered darkly as he watched you reset the game in front of them. 

“Circe’s tits…perhaps you should be, Pete.” Sirius bit out through a grimace, causing the group to all turn their attention to the Slytherin boy.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure what the Slytherin practice was when getting ready for a celebratory quidditch afterparty, but based on Barty’s current state, it seemed that ritual consisted of at least one fist fight with a particularly angry hippogriff.

“What happened?” You nearly shrieked as you abandoned your card game and you and James made for your boyfriend. 

Barty let out a breath before he broke out into a smile. “Sorry I’m late! Had to take care of something on my way here.”

Remus was sure that the way Barty was grinning at the two of you had to be horribly painful for the busted lip he was currently sporting as his teeth quickly turned a pinky/red colour. 

“And what were you taking care of? A graphorn?” James asked incredulously as you guided Barty to a stool in order to fuss over him.

“Don’t be daft, James. There’s no graphorns in Hogwarts.” Barty waved him off, eyes moving to you as you assessed his face.

“Who did you run into, Barty?” You pressed; voice taking a no-nonsense tone that had Peter and Remus sharing a nervous look. 

“Just some Ravenclaws who were a little disappointed by the end of today’s match, is all.” He offered happily; pulling you closer towards him from where you were standing between his legs by the back of your thighs, watching you adoringly as you summoned a cloth to dab at his lip. 

“That’s all, is it?” You deadpanned, clearly not buying his story.

“I hardly think you were too fussed over some comment about quidditch scores, Barty.” James chided lovingly. 

“Of course I did! I love quidditch.” Barty spat defensively. 

“Yeah, but you hate the Gryffindor team.” Sirius called from his chandelier. 

“That’s not true! I’m shagging the captain for Salazar’s sake.”

“Okay, well…maybe don’t shout that?” You muttered as you looked around in embarrassment, earning a bark of laughter from James as he rubbed your shoulders consolingly. 

“I don’t know, bubs; I don’t see you risking showing up late and bloody over discourse on match scores.” James continued, clearly finding this more amusing than you were as you angrily cast a glacius on a cup and held it to Barty’s jaw which was quickly purpling in colour. 

“Okay, perhaps they said a few other things; it’s no big deal.” Barty offered dismissively, though Remus (and likely you and James) noticed the way that his grip seemed to strengthen on your thighs at his admission.

“Yeah? Like what?” You encouraged. 

Barty let out a defeated sigh as he finally turned his gaze to you. “You know I don’t like people talking about you; either of you.” He admitted quietly. 

You shook your head in disappointment but let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Wait, what’d they say about our girl?” James said then, craning his neck around you in order to look at Barty pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter Jamie! It appears he’s already taken care of it, yeah?” You hissed as you swatted at him with the cloth that you had been tending to Barty with. 

James quickly caught the end of the cloth and used it to pull you into him, planting a smacking kiss to your face. 

“I did take care of it!” Barty repeated excitedly. “Can I have a kiss?” He asked sweetly, smiling at you expectantly as you rubbed James’ kiss off of your cheek. 

“Absolutely not.” You grumbled as you ignored his disbelieving scoff.

“Why not!?” He cried out as you stepped out from between his legs.

“Barty, I am not rewarding you for bad behaviour.” You declared as you plopped yourself down in front of Peter again, ordering him to reset your card game. 

James quickly looked between the two of you before stepping between Barty’s legs to give him his own kiss.

“You are such a simp, James Potter.” Remus taunted under his breath as to not alert you to your boyfriend currently enabling your other boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah; laugh it up now. But I get to watch you try to wrestle Pads out of the chandelier later, so I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, Moons.” 

“He can sleep up there tonight, for all I care.” Remus muttered petulantly as he crossed his arms.

Sirius wouldn’t sleep up there tonight; Remus knew it, James knew it, Sirius knew it, likely the whole bloody school knew it. But Remus would pretend he wasn’t as big a simp as James Potter, at least a little bit longer, in order to preserve what little superiority he held for the time being.

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

➳ Key: fluff=❤️, angst=����, smut=💦, sexual themes=🍒

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Eddie Munson

My Pretty Girl 💦

Reader's first time with Eddie ❤️💦

Sub!Eddie Headcanons ❤️💦

Tension 💦

Eddie caring for you after a fight 💔❤️

I Want More 💔❤️💦

Sweet Boy 💦

Spin the Bottle 💦

Eddie making you squirt 💦

Angry Fucking 💔💦

I Love You Too Much 💔❤️

Threeway 💦

Milf Lover Eddie ❤️💦

You Should've Run 💔

Jealous Eddie 💔💦

Cockwarming 🍒

Beg Me 💦

It Started With a Kiss ❤️💦

Reader Death 💔

Jealous Eddie💦

Daddy Kink 💦

By the Beach 💦

Sex Dice 💦

Public sex with Eddie 💦

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Vecna

I Can Fix Him 💦

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Steve Harrington

Tension 💦

Threeway 💦

Eddie x Steve x Reader 💦

[voxslays]

FULL MOON

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Alastor is hiding his seasonal rut cycle from everyone in the hotel, including you. Unfortunately, it isn’t very long until you find out what he’s been hiding…

WARNINGS: Smut, AFAB Reader, Dub-Con??, Seasonal rut

It was late October, the time when sinners went into their seasonal ruts. For many years, Alastor had been able to pretend he was completely immune to the effects of the fall heat he felt. Being able to hide out until late November when his rut disappeared. Until this year, when you had arrived. You were a fellow deer demon, a doe to be exact. You were innocent, naive, and most of all, kind.

You knew of Alastor’s title, one he had earned from taking down and broadcasting the screams of countless overlords and other high-ranking sinners, becoming an overlord in record time. Yet, you never feared him. Alastor was curious about you, trying to truly get to know you. Not for your soul, but for you as a person. You intrigued him, entertained him. That was one of the reasons why his rut was extremely unbearable this year. He had no choice but to lock himself away from you and the other residents of the hotel—only coming out for meals—until his rut was over.

Alastor paced in his private quarters, his movements agitated and uncharacteristically erratic. The scent of your presence lingered in the halls, a sweet torment that set his nerves ablaze. He gripped the balcony railing, his claws digging into the marble as he fought to maintain control. ​​Not only did he feel the pain of his unbearable rut, but the major migraines from his shedding antlers. His antlers felt ready to drop at any moment, but not soon enough to ease his suffering.         

Alastor let out a deep groan of pain, his body wracked with tremors. He was losing control. He let out a roar of frustration, shattering several nearby floral vases. Just as Alastor is about to step into his bayou, he hears a knock on his door. Followed by a muffled voice calling his name. He quickly walks out of the miniature pocket-dimension, growing frustrated with whoever dares to interrupt his alone-time.

Alastor stormed to the door, his eyes flashing dangerously. He flung the door open, prepared to berate whoever had dared to disturb him. His words caught in his throat as he saw you standing there, your expression concerned. “Are you okay!?” You ask worriedly, pressing your hand to his burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Alastor's initial anger melted away, replaced by a hint of relief at your presence. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of your hand. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough and hoarse from his recent roar. "Just a headache.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The scent of your concern was intoxicating, making his heart race. "I appreciate your worry, but I can handle it. It's just...a difficult time of year for me." He carefully states.

“Do you need anything? I’d be happy to help.” You give him a thoughtful smile. Alastor's resolve wavered at your kind offer. He wanted to accept, to lean on you, but he knew the risk. "You're too kind," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours on his forehead. "But I wouldn't want to burden you with my..." He trails off, his smile only slightly faltering. He paused, torn between his desire for you and his need to protect you from his rut. "...problems." He finished lamely, dropping his hand and stepping back. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest." He says, as sweat pours down his forehead, the room seemingly getting hotter and hotter. “Just come to me if you need anything. I hope you feel better soon!” You say, waving as you walk down the hall. Alastor watches you go, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to call you back, to lose himself in your comforting presence. But he knew he couldn't, not like this.

The last time Alastor had come out of his room was Sunday. It was now a Wednesday. You and the other hotel residents—mainly Charlie and Husk (for two very different reasons)—were becoming concerned. Charlie tried to convince Vaggie and you that Alastor was fine, and he probably just needed a little space—while Husk was positive Alastor was planning something. It didn’t really matter to you. You just wanted to know Alastor was okay. When Thursday rolled around, you decided enough was enough. You marched up to his room and gently knocked on the door, not sure if you would even get an answer. The knock echoed through the silent room. Alastor was sprawled on his bed, drenched in sweat and shivering. He groaned and dragged himself up, staggering to the door. He flung it open, expecting to see Charlie or Husk.

Alastor’s eyes widen when he sees you standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Where have you been!?” You ask, with a tone of concern. ​​“Wait a moment.” You say, thinking to yourself. Alastor watched you warily, his body trembling as another wave of need crashed over him. “You’re in your rut aren’t you?” You ask. You had remembered hearing somewhere that some demons could have seasonal ruts depending on their species and sins in life. From what Alastor had previously told you, it would only make sense he had entered his seasonal cycle.

Alastor's face contorted in a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and pain. "Yes," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I can't control myself right now." He slightly trembles. “Wait-! Let me help you.” Alastor's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. You can't." He trailed off, his breathing growing heavier as another surge of desire washed over him. "Please.” Your eyes meet, and you look into his crimson red pupils, now even redder with pain. “I don’t want you to suffer. Please, just let me help you.” You practically beg. Alastor's resolve wavers as he meets your gaze. The concern and care in your eyes nearly undo him. He takes a shuddering breath. "You don't know what you're offering," he warns, his voice rough with strain. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

“I don't care.” Something in Alastor snaps at your words. With a growl, he reaches out and gently pulls you into the room, slamming the door shut. He pins you against it, his body flush against yours. "Last chance to run," ​​You don’t dare move, too lost in his gaze. Alastor's eyes burn with an intense hunger as he looks at you. Without another word, he claims your mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss. His hands roam over your body, seeking relief from the torment. "Fuck," Alastor curses against your lips, his voice shaking with need. You gently cup his antlers, rubbing tender circles around them, relieving pain.

A low groan escapes him as you touch his antlers. He grinds himself against you, seeking friction. "More." Alastor pants out. His fingers nimbly unzipping the back of your dress, pushing it off your shoulders, and slowly sliding it off, watching it pool at your feet. His gaze drinks in the sight of you bare before him. His touch becomes gentler, reverent, as he explores every curve and line of your body. He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, his hands sliding up your thighs and wrapping around to squeeze your backside. "So beautiful," His mouth travels lower, tracing the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking out to taste you. His body shudders as another wave of heat washes over him. He lifts you up in his arms, carrying you to his bed. He laid down, positioning you astride his hips. 

He guides your hips, helping you take him inside. A low moan rumbles in his chest at the exquisite feeling of you enveloping him. His hands grip your thighs as he starts to move, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. "That's it," He praises breathlessly ​​as you let out little whimpers and whines. The sound of your whimpers spurs him on, his pace quickening. He reaches between you, his calloused fingers finding the bundle of nerves at your core and stroking it rhythmically. You cry out, your nails digging into his back. Alastor's expression contorts with pleasure and pain. He lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking up sharply. He wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your stomach without breaking your union. 

His movements become feverish, his breath coming in short pants. You scream in pleasure, your face being gently pressed down into the pillow. His thrusts become brutal, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. The force of his movements causes the headboard to bang against the wall. He reaches under you, his fingers finding your mouth, shoving them inside. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he pistons into you. His hips stutter as he reaches his peak, a deep groan torn from his throat as he spilled deep inside you. He bites down into your shoulder, his teeth breaking your skin.

You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you with all your strength. As he comes down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing them against your lips to silence any cries. He lays his head against your back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Shh, my love," He whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You gently roll over, gently gripping his shoulders as you let out quick, shallow breaths. Alastor's gaze drops to where your bodies are still joined. He lets out a pleased rumble as he feels you tighten around him once more. He grins at you, his sharp, yellow teeth glistening with your blood.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead. He chuckles, nipping gently at your chin. "Mmm, you look delicious like that, my dear. All sweaty and disheveled.” You let out a quick breathy pant. “I am exhausted.” Your body is still slightly trembling. He grins wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. That means I did my job right.” He flexes his hips, his body stirring once more. “And only seventy hours to go.” Only seventy…What!?