#cw immobilisation

[kabr0ztrousers]

I really like your transformation work

would you do a doll transformation one?

maybe you encounter a kind fae but accidentally insult them, so you offer to remedy it with your body and you get turned into a doll

or an orc finds an abandoned toy and decides to try and fix it up idk i really like terato

Kabr0z Writes episode 52: Doll

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: transformation; dubcon; noncon; immobilisation; loss of agency; PIV sex; doll transformation

A/N: there's one problem with fucking a doll: dolls are rigid and generally speaking, quite smooth in the nether regions... Although, rubber solves most problems.

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Your teacup clattered to the ground. The forest around you, so previously verdant and full of life, was dead and dark, the illusion fading, showing you the real. The toymaker stood up from his seat, still holding his teacup in a many-fingered hand.

"Don't you know it's rude to point?"

You don't remember pointing at him, or anyone really, all you could do was back away from the oncoming Fae, trying your best to apologise. "I am sorry, I hadn't realised, I'm sure there's some way for me to make it up to you?"

The toymaker smiled, showing far too many teeth. "I'm sure there is... Hold still, my doll"

You stopped backing away. That's when you realised your mistake. You'd told it to call you Tess. You'd just answered to a name that isn't the one you'd made safe for yourself.

You tried to run. Your feet wouldn't move. Your body stood, statue-like as the toymaker approached and started running his fingers over your skin.

Where he touched felt cold, you could only move your eyes to look. You couldn't see your flesh transmuting to painted cedar, your bones to threaded metal rods. You could feel your joints stiffening, turning to hinges and ball joints which he delicately squirted a little oil into before testing the smooth movement.

The wood spread across you, replacing flesh, changing bone. It reached your heart. A keyhole formed in the middle of your back, a clockwork motor replacing where your heart was. You could feel the mainspring, loose and idle. Lethargy flooded you. You couldn't move at all as your eyes became glass and your brain turned to straw. Your thoughts clouded. The fear left you, the memory of who you used to be becoming more distant. The toymaker stood in front of you, looking over his work as you stood in your dress, arms held slightly away from your body. It stepped around you, grasping the key in your back and giving it a few brisk turns.

The governor in your chest started up, balance spring setting a perfect rhythm, the faint ticking echoing into your head, clearing your thoughts. Your limbs loosened, life filling them.

You ran. The toymaker laughed as you went, until he was out of sight. Behind a tree, you took stock. Wooden, now. You'll probably want to avoid naked flames in future. Your hands slid across your body. Touching your glass eyes didn't hurt, which was a plus, all your joints worked, but you could feel the mainspring in your chest getting weaker as it lost tension.

You stretched to reach it, reaching around your back, sticking out your wooden chest as you did. You fell to your knees, fingers scrambling to turn the key as it ticked down moments.

The spring ran out. The governor stopped and so did you.

Your arms stopped in place, joints stiffening. Your thoughts stopped too, calming to a stupid placidity. You saw the toymaker coming towards you, felt his hand fix your hair, heard his footsteps as he walked away, continuing down the path.

Time didn't have meaning any more. You knelt on the ground, your petticoat was getting dirty, but you couldn't move.

A figure approached. A big lumbering man carrying a club. His green skin covered by by furs. The orc saw you, walking over. He grabbed you in one hand, lifting you by an arm. He looked into your eyes. Without clockwork power, you couldn't speak.

The orc pushed a hand up your skirts. You felt his hand brush against your rubber cunt, slipping a thick finger between the moulded lips and into the hole. Despite being wood, metal and rubber, you felt yourself producing fluid. His hand came away wet, a thin film of your pussy juice on his finger.

He ripped off your skirts, exposing your finely carved thighs, shining white wood exposed to the outside. Your body hung limp from his hands as he pushed his cock into you.

He thrust into you, holding you at his waist as he did, using your body as your head lolled and your limbs hung limp. You could feel yourself stretching around him, feeling so close, but unable to move, to even make a peep.

His pumping got harder, fucking you harder. You felt him twitching and throbbing in you before pumping out a load of his cum, grinding his hips into yours, forcing himself as deep as he could.

Pleasure flooded your mind, the world reducing to hazy shapes as the orc filled you. The euphoria only deepening as he slung your body over his shoulder, your leaking cunt dripping his cum onto the ground behind him as he carried you off. You were made to be owned.

After all, the purpose of a doll is to be played with

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Thanks for the request, anon! Hopefully it's everything you wanted

If you have a request, please send a DM or an ask, and I'll see what I can make out of it! There's a bit of a wait, bit it's still projected to be less than a month (though I can't promise how long that'll last)

[svbhuman]

HI im extremely out of it cw blood

[gtgbabie0]

Can I make a request for Ambessa with wife!reader and reader is a few months postpartum and she’s insecure about her figure. Ambessa decides to comfort her and show her how special she really is.

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Ambessa Medarda x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {The birth of your child left you with many doubts and your wife proves them all wrong} CW: talks of childbirth, body image issues, themes of postpartum depression, bathing together. AN: I got so carried away with this. oml.

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The birthing bed was your battlefield as the wife to a fearsome warlord— a fate that had surprisingly brought you more happiness than you had originally anticipated, that was until your waters broke and the contractions started. Then you were cursing Ambessa’s name.

You were prepared for this, your handmaidens spent day and night explaining to you the pain and showing you hand-drawn pictures— your mother had even told you of her own experiences. It was all pointless because you quickly learned that no word or picture could ever even begin to describe the pain of childbirth.

It didn’t get much easier from there. The battle continued even after the birth of a healthy baby boy and girl—oh how grateful your wife was—twins, a strong boy and girl to carry on her name��� a miracle. You only wished you could share her joy, but you couldn’t. There was an odd disconnect that had managed to wedge itself between you, your children, and Ambessa.

Your skin didn’t feel your own, hell, your whole life didn’t feel like yours— almost as if you had taken the place of some stranger, a different woman that was not you. That woman was more suited to be a mother, a wife. It was a sickening feeling, one that often left you immobilised in bed.

You didn’t want to face the mirrors, hold your babies, or have your wife look at you, much less touch you—hence why you slept with a pillow stuffed between you both, not wanting to risk it… despite how much you deeply yearned for it, and oh how you really did yearn for her comforting touch.

It was the reason your maid brings you your nightly tea with just enough crushed poppy flowers to knock you out— you preferred to sleep before your wife got back from her duties, although you told your maids differently.

“Leave it on the table.” The words leave you with a sigh, not looking over to her from your place on the sofa— a deep red velvet colour, soft to the touch, your wife only accepts perfection.

“Lady Medarda, surely a simple ginger tea would be better for you?— The pain shouldn’t be lasting this long.” bless her, she sounded so concerned. Of course, your excuse of birthing pains could only last so long, five whole months had passed since— the warmth of summer slowly dwindling away, replaced by a sharp chill that autumn brought.

You shake your head, bringing your fingertips to your temple with a pitiful glint in your eyes, ready to put on a show— then the bedroom door opens and your handmaiden is bowing to Ambessa, whose eyes are fixed onto you, stepping off to the side politely.

“You’re back early.” The words fly from your lips faster than you could even process them and far more harshly than intended, however, the quiver in your voice gives you away. Your false bravado was not lost on Ambessa, that mask you wore did not fool her.

“Leave us.” Her words are sharp, stern and has the maid scurrying off— dress clutched in her hands. You could already hear the gossip she was sure to spread with the other servants.

A sigh escapes you as your eyes flicker over to the flames in the fireplace, watching the embers dance wildly within the hearth— Ambessa’s heavy, golden spear hanging above, displayed proudly, every nick and indent tells a different story. You let your mind wander in hopes she'll drop it.

“Do I need to send for a doctor?” She doesn't. Your wife was a smart woman, she knew you like the back of her hand and could read all your inner thoughts, until recently— now getting a single word out of you was like trying to get blood out of a stone. Instead, she was left with this distance you had managed to put between yourself and her. Ambessa felt it, she just didn’t know how exactly to approach it and it was driving her crazy.

She was a practical woman, fixing her problems with strength, not emotions, this was not her strong suit. But she also did not know defeat.

“No, I am fine.” The lie didn’t sound convincing in the slightest, not even in your own ears— the words make you wince and from the sound of her scoff she didn’t believe you either.

You hated to be the cause of her concern, gods only know how busy the woman already was. Ambessa watches you, studying your movements with slightly narrowed eyes as you tug your shawl over your shoulders— grasping the soft fabric as if it were some sort of protective shield, a lifeline, that you wished desperately to disappear into.

“This is not fine, lie to your handmaidens all you want but do not lie to me.” Her tone is much softer than you deserve, you can’t help but cower away with a look of shame in your eyes— it only triples when she kneels down in front of you, her big, battle-worn hands resting over your knees.

The Ambessa Medarda, a feared warrior, kneeling before you like you were some sort of deity worth praying to… no it didn’t feel right.

The words die on your tongue, getting stuck in the back of your throat tightly— a whimper is the only thing you can let out, such a weak sound, strained with this insecurity that had been eating away at you for months.

“I do not know what it is— just an ache I cannot rid myself of, no matter what I do.” you breathe, dropping your head slightly as your gaze falls to her hands, the way her thumb rubs the inside of your knee. “I bring shame upon this family— upon you.”

Ambessa tuts at your words, pinching your chin between her index finger and thumb. “Shame?— look at me,” your eyes find her own hesitantly. “You are my greatest treasure… my proudest accomplishment.”

“I can’t be— I’m not fit for motherhood, to be your wife. I am weak.”

She bristles, “No flower, you are the furthest thing from weak. Motherhood is no easy feat, but we strengthen each other… you have me. Forever.” her eyes never once straying from your own.

You have only ever heard such loving sincerity from her a handful of times, on the day she asked you to marry her and the first time she had taken your maidenhead— your wedding night, and now. It’s a stern tone that is draped in earnest, so heavy with love, leaving no space for arguments.

Ambessa wouldn’t hear another word of it, of you speaking poorly of yourself— she had taken someone’s tongue after they foolishly insulted you, that wasn’t for nothing, that was out of devotion.

So all you can do is apologise— “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” but even that she doesn’t want to hear, her lips pressing a soothing kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“No more apologies, no more distance. You have me.” She promises, words whispered against your cheek before she pulls back to admire you with a soft yet firm stare. “Understood?”

“Yes, I understand.” You whisper, leaning into her hand as soon as her rough palm meets your cheek— your chest tightens and your eyes prickle with tears, it had been far too long since you felt her tender touch. With a hum of acknowledgement, she leans forward, still kneeling before you, her hand curving across your jaw to cup the back of your head— her lips meeting your own in a slow kiss, the rough pad of her thumb brushing your tears away.

“Shh my heart, I’m right here.” She soothes, lips brushing along your jaw when you melt further into her— trembling hands resting upon her broad shoulders which she cages within her own big ones as she pulls back to admire you. “I’ll have a bath prepared for us.”

Her words make you tense, something uncomfortable churning within your stomach at the thought. “No, my body has changed— it’s—”

“—It is just as perfect as the night I first had you.”

“No, it’s different.”

“Sweetling, you have brought life into this world. It’s a beautiful change.” She murmurs against your knuckles with an almost reverent gleam in her eyes, one that almost breaks down the defences that you have built up around your fragile heart, almost.

Ambessa can sense your unease, the hesitation— the way you can’t seem to meet her eyes and it destroys her, how had she failed to protect you from this? She brings your palm to rest over her heart, her eyes searching your own. “Trust me with this, let me worship you.” there's a soft question hidden beneath her tone, behind the firmness of what sounds like a demand.

“Just— Just a bath,” you whisper, glossy eyes and strained voice and she nods in response— cupping your face ever so gently as she repeats “Just a bath.” in agreement.

You trust her enough to guide you to your shared bathroom, enough to let her peel your nightgown off with careful hands, fingertips grazing across your body ever so slightly. The comforting scent of rose and honey wisps around you, carrying memories of nights you’ve shared like this and the prospect of being close to her seems a little less daunting as the familiarity warms your heart and the hot water envelops your body.

Ambessa's form engulfs your own as she sits behind you, strong thighs caging either side of you. It was protective, how her hands rub across your shoulders soothingly and the soft whispers of sweet nothings that leave her lips, muffled into the nape of your neck. She wishes to rid you of any self-doubt that had wormed itself into your mind.

Bubbles splay across your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees that you’ve tucked beneath your chin in an attempt to make yourself smaller. “Flower?— relax into me,” her voice breaks you out of your thoughts as she slowly guides you back against her chest, wrapping an arm around your abdomen whilst the other moves to cup your cheek.

The candlelight flickers against your face as you tip your head backwards to look up at her, her thumb wiping away a stray tear that had escaped you. “Forgive me for not noticing your pain sooner,” She whispers, dropping a kiss to your forehead and then another to the tip of your nose.

The warm water laps at your bodies slightly as you move to curl up further into her, wanting to disappear in her embrace. “Just don’t let go,” and with that her arms tighten around your body, leaning to rest her forehead against your own.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Your place in my heart is yours, no one can take that from you.” You sigh at your words, letting out a teary giggle as she peppers kisses over your face. For the first time in a while, you felt whole, full, in a way you thought you would never feel again, for the time being at least… you savoured every second of it.

Her fingertips trace over the stretch marks left by your pregnancy, letting her lips trail over the dewy skin of your shoulders whispering soft “I love yous,” against you as she washes your hair— smirking at the way you let your guard down for her, how your eyes flutter close and the way sigh and hum in delight as she massages your scalp.

The water felt cleansing in a way, as it trickles down your head and along your back, washing away the months of aches that weighed on top of you. “How does that feel?” She asks, lips brushing along your jaw.

“Good, much better.” The relief in your tone brought immeasurable amounts of satisfaction to her that she couldn’t help but chuckle, happiness blooming through her chest as she replies with a soft. “That’s what I like to hear, my sweet.”

Ambessa vows to herself in that very moment to spend the night and every other night paying homage to the curves and dips of your body, to each stretch mark that maps over your skin until you feel nothing but love— she would put your pieces back together again no matter how jagged the edges were.

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[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 9th — lip gloss — 1017 words — cw: slightly nsfw brought to you by james' dirty mind, tw: amab term used for reg's genitalia aka mtf regulus, red heart shaped sunglasses and james potter's thoughts about kneehigh boots

The lights in their flat are dim, music is playing and the air smells faintly of tequila and lime already.

James has been staring at Regulus reapplying her ‘lip combo’ for the past five minutes without blinking. One could reason it’s because Regulus is literally using his sunglasses as a mirror but James argues he wouldn’t have let himself miss out on this for any money in the world either way. He would have found a way to get a front row seat.

The red, heart shaped glasses on his nose do nothing to help him see but that’s why he’s got his contacts in. There’s a cool hand at James’ stubbled jaw, angling him this way and that because Regulus needs proper lighting, Jamie. Stop moving into the shadow! 

First she’d fished around in her small ass purse—how does anyone even fit anything in these little things ever?—and procured a thin, dark red looking pencil of sorts. Regulus has gotten all up in his face, wiggling closer where she was sitting on his leg, rubbing her ass all over James’ lap and by God, James has never felt so lucky and tortured simultaneously. 

Anyway, Regulus had started following the shape of her cupid’s bow, outlining her lips. Her hand had rested right between James’ pecs at first to steady herself, right in the middle of his chest. James hoped she couldn’t feel the wild beating of his heart, the irregular heaving of his torso. She was talking to Pandora while doing so, about some mutual friend James has no clue about but he wasn’t registering any of the words either way. Much too fascinated by the small moles next to Regulus’ left eyes, by her dark lashes, her icy blue eyes. Ruthlessly captivating, breathtaking and immobilising like the bone deep chilling northern sea. 

James isn’t sure he remembers how to swim.

Next is a red lipstick. Regulus’ parts her mouth and James has to suppress a groan. He’s only mildly conscious of the way his palms make their way up over Regulus’ hips, coming to rest in the dip of her waist, thumbs windshield wiping over the silk of her green dress. It’s some sort of nightshirt, actually, with black lace detailing and clearly thrifted. Well loved but in good condition and James has been breaking his brain over what she might be wearing underneath for the better part of the last hour. Ever since Regulus had stepped over the threshold of their flat in her kneehigh boots and that flimsy excuse of a dress that James wants to see crumpled on the floor of his bedroom rather than anywhere else. Preferably while Regulus is splayed out naked on top of his sheets, tits out, cock out. The boots can stay on.

“Fuck,” present James mutters quietly, blinking himself out of his obscene fantasies. Regulus’ leg adjusts and brushes against where James is starting to fill out in his pants. 

James squirms.

“Stop that,” Regulus tsks, tightening her hold on his chin.

The yes, ma’am on the tip of James’ tongue nearly tumbles out but he manages to swallow it back in time.

James tries to glance around the general area around them out of the corners of his eyes, “Is your brother around?”

“Why?” she asks immediately. Her lips are completely filled out with a deep berry sort of red now. Then Regulus is digging around in her purse again.

“Just ’cause,” James replies offhandedly, shrugging.

Regulus hums, low and deep, sceptical and it’s so unfairly sexy. James licks his lips and sighs a long breath out. Level head, Potter, he tells himself. Level head.

The final step seems to be lip gloss. It’s not clear and translucent but rather has a bit of a milky quality to it.

James chokes on nothing. 

Regulus takes it up to her lips and spreads the fluid on her full red lips. It creates a foggy sheen and James is powerless against the mental images of cum slick lips. Both of their cum mixed, James licking it from Regulus’ stomach and then climbing back up. Hovering and tugging at her lower lip until she opens obediently like a good girl and lets James spit it right onto her mouth. 

Regulus leans closer and makes some little p-p-p noises where she smacks her lips together to even out the gloss, presumably. James doesn’t know. Don’t ask James anything right now because the gloss is kind of pulling strings and James is this close to doing something violently indecent to his best friend’s little sister.

Regulus puts the gloss away and then taps against James’ cheek, announcing happily, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” James mumbles.

He expects her to stand up now, join Pandora where she’s conversing with other people on the sofa, but instead Regulus wraps her arms around the back of James’ neck, keeping the close distance. “Y’know,” she starts, shifting in James’ lap, “I haven’t seen Sirius in a while. In fact, I think he might have gone off with Loopy.”

“Lupin,” James corrects automatically, trying to make sense of what Regulus is saying. She’s so warm and soft pressed against him, it’s distracting.

Regulus makes a whatever noise and tilts her head, “I’m guessing they went to his flat instead. Rumour has it, it’s close by.”

James nods in affirmation because that’s true. Remus does live close by.

Regulus’ fingers wind themselves into the curls at James’ nape, “Smart lads. Going somewhere a little more private.”

James nods again, numbly. He feels stupid in the head. 

“By the way,” Regulus keeps going, “Have I seen your room in this flat yet?”

And James might be stupid but he’s not an idiot.

A slow grin spreads over his face and then James has to lean forward to muffle an equally happy as aroused groan into the crook of Regulus’ pale neck. 

“Is that a yes?”

James leaves a kiss on her cheek when he pulls back, squeezes her hips and then lifts them both off the chair, ushering Regulus through the crowd and into his room.

When they come back out, Regulus’ legs are wobbly and there’s red lipstick stains all over James’ mouth and neck and the heady taste of cum in his mouth.

[kurokawaia]

❛ His Oral Fixation ❜

tw/cw; oral fixation, oral -> female receiving - cunnilingus and tit sucking, slight possessiveness, implied over stimulation, implied hair tugging kink. *ahem* MDNI 🗣

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: headcanons with 2 drabbles attached, Kaji sucking on your plump boobs and giving your drenched cunt head, but not for your pleasure, no, no, this is for his own (kaji is making me go insane im so sorry guys 😵‍💫)

Guys I don't think you understand how much I head canon Kaji to have an oral fixation. I know he sucks on those lolly pops to keep himself shut up but don't you think he's gotten used to having something in his mouth.

It doesn't matter what it is in his mouth it just has to be something. Every time he takes the suckers from his mouth he has that urge to put it back in because not only does it shut him up, he loves to suck around the hardened sugar, that feeling of wrapping his tongue around it.

Not only when he takes the candy from his mouth, he doesn't think about putting the sucker back in his mouth specifically, he thinks of you. The way his tongue would swirl around your perky nubs or the way your puffy clit and cunt would throb in his mouth. The two of them being much more of a treat, and a much more affective way of shutting up.

𝒹𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 :: 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓈

You were there on the couch, minding your own business until Kaji came back from wherever he was and he made his intent clear. And that intent? was your boobs, it was one of the two choices that he loved.

His tongue was playing with your perky buds, purposely not toying with the other just so he can get you all needy. Kaji's saliva was all over your chest, you wouldn't be surprised that if you looked down, there would be purple and red hickies stained all over your skin.

Your arms enveloping his shoulders while occasional whimpers left your throat. But the main sounds coming from your mouth were the deep sighs, moans occasionally slipping out when he found your soft spot on your tits.

Kaji won't be done with you, not until he's had his fill of swirling your puffy nubs with his tongue. He'll be at it for hours if he had to choose, not wanting to be anywhere else but here, in your arms and sucking on your tits.

This is one of the only moments that Kaji makes you seem relatively in control because in this position, what power does he have over you? His hands are toying with your nipples (occasionally...) and his mouth is too preoccupied to tell you to stop moving around! So you have some freedom of movement!

(i have lied)

You move one inch and his teeth will pinch on your sensitive nubs, causing you to be into much distress. This is why you can't move, you can't move away from Kaji because he won't let you :(

But it's a win win right, Kaji sucks on your perky nubs and you get hickies everywhere.

𝒹𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜 :: 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓉

Kaji cranes his neck forward, pressing kisses to your soaked clit through your underwear, making you want to clench your thighs around his head. His head was in the way of you doing so, Kaji's hands gripped onto your thighs, reminding you of your place.

Your thighs were over his broad shoulders, keeping you in place on the bed. Kaji was doing this for his own pleasure, not yours, if he needs to suck on your clit and dive his tongue into your drenched hole, then you'll let him.

A moan slips from your mouth while your hands entangle themselves into his platinum locks. Your back wanted to arch away from the tingling sensation, to squirm out of his hold, but your immobilised, utterly weak under his touch.

"Quit moving," he huffs with a slight annoyance and you comply, trying your hardest not to jerk at the kisses he peppered your click through your soaked panties.

Kaji moves the material to the side, revealing your slick folds and he doesn't waste a second. He had to wait all day for this and he was going to enjoy every second of sucking on your puffy clit, bending you into overstimulation. Kaji won't be done with you when you ask him to stop, oh no, your done when he says he's done.

The grip on your thighs strengthened as you felt his nose bumping against you sensitive clit, your fingers tightened on the hold you had on his hair. A mewl slips past your plump lips and a groan of satisfaction ripples through him into your folds.

His tongue drags up from your soaked hole to you clit and moans slip from your lips. You wanted desperate to be keep quiet, but you know that Kaji doesn't like it, when you hide your voice. When Kaji doesn't have his headphones on, he wants your pretty voice to, one, speaking to him or two, moaning and whimpering as loud as he wants you to be.

Your head is thrown back against the fluffy pillows beneath you, back trying to arch into his tongue which is sucking lewdly on your swollen clit. Thighs clench around his head through his restricting hold and a moan reverberates into your clit causing you to grind down into his face. Chant of his name spill from your mouth, and he loved every second of it.

Why have headphones and a sucker when you have a soaked cunt and your girlfriends moans spilling from her mouth?

Your orgasm was getting closer when two fingers pushed past your folds, into your gummy walls and they immediately found their place. Fingers pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls everything he curled his fingers while he inserted them in at a fast pass.

"So good," Kaji moans against you, hips rutting into the mattress. A moan arouses from you and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided that if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

You chant his name through broken letters, his movements becoming faster, more needy and the single hold he had on your thigh tightened. The coil in your stomach tightened and your fingers secured around his locks, rendering him from moving but causing him to moan more into your folds.

As the moans spill from his lips the only thing it did was tip me over the edge and the moment he pressed his tongue hard against my clit, was once a soft scream left your mouth. The coil in your stomach releasing, drenching his face entirely.

Kaji sits up with a satisfied smirk on his face and the bulge prominent in his baggy jeans. He removed his jacket and hoodie before removing your underwear from your legs. It was in the way of his personal sucker after all.

"I'm not done with you," Kaji said before his tongue played with your clit once more, overstimulating you.

And he'll continue to do this until you come over and over again, only stopping once he's had his fill of your sweetness. Only once he's done sucking and rolling his tongue against your already swollen bud, not going to stop until your squirt all over his face <3

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | wind breaker m.list

[yezhi1k]

Three is a party! (Vampire AU jaymelvik)

Notes: hiiiiiii! Uni is tearing me a new one so naturally I had to spend my time writing jaymelvik smut instead of actually getting shit done. As usual, I am sorry for any typos and my AO3 is MisanthropicMoose if you prefer reading there :)

Summary: Viktor and Mel think they are alone in their struggles of being vampires, being unaware that the other is also stuck in the same boat. Once they found out, they hatch a plan to have a little fun with the one person they've always wanted.

CW: SMUT!!! Threesome, vampirism, blood, biting, choking, spanking, immobilisation.

Word count: 6.7k

Without ever knowing it, Mel and Viktor had much more in common than initially met the eye. After all, what could the good-willed, charismatic counselor and a reclusive, yet genius scientist possibly have in common? Every second of their lives, from the moment they were born, the two spent in different places, around different people, with different passions in their hearts. It seemed as though the two were destined to move through the fabric of time in parallel lines; never much too far from one another yet never destined to intersect.

The two had one vital similarity. A terrible, deep secret which both had harbored deep within themselves, only ever shedding the mask in the cover of darkness. The truth lurked in the blackness of their pupils, circulated through their veins, was hidden in the curves of their mouths, shielded from sight by their upper lips. Whenever Mel sat in on a particularly difficult counselor meeting, or when Viktor was glued to his chalkboard, calculating wildly, their tongues would instinctively glide over the sharp canines nested within their gums in a fashion so familiar, one could assume that they spent their entire lives watching the other perform that very action. The pang of maddening hunger they both felt whenever the metallic scent of blood from someone’s papercut or scraped knee reached their noses, the frantic firing of synapses as they battelled the nagging bloodlust, if either knew that the other felt the same they would have surely found solace in each other sooner. But alas, the counselor and the scientist remained, despite being tormented by an identical affliction, solitary. They seldom interacted, only ever exchanging cordial, impersonal greetings whenever they happened to pass one another in the spacious halls of the Academy. There was no denial that, perhaps, their gazes lingered for a fraction of a second longer than what seemed natural, that they subconsciously gravitated closer to each other despite the vast amounts of space around them, but none of that facilitated a closeness intimate enough for their secrets to be revealed.

They had another common link – Jayce Talis. The shining prodigy of Piltover. The Man of Progress. Being both a scientist and a counselor, he drifted in both of their waters, fitting into the scenery of the lab just as naturally as he did in the counselor meeting room. He performed an intricate dance, brushing skin-to-skin with Viktor as he mused over the brunette man’s notes, before melting into Mel’s embrace on the balcony of the Academy whilst overlooking the vastness of Piltover. Jayce felt a magnetic pull in two distinct directions, and distress often took hold of his heart as he tried to determine with whom his true loyalties aligned. Sometimes, in the late hours of the night, after an eternity of tossing and turning, Jayce would find his boxers awfully tight, and his hand moved, as if on its own volition, to the source of his discomfort. As he palmed himself through the fabric, heart beating wildly, pupils so dilated they drunk up the darkness around him, his mind switched rapidly between two very different visions. The delicate curve of Mel’s neck, adorned with a gold necklace which contrasted so strikingly against the deep richness of her silky skin. Viktor’s honey-glazed eyes looking up at him from his notes, clouded with exhaustion from endless hours of work. The shallow rising and falling of Mel’s chest as she prepared to debate someone at the counselor table. Viktor’s long, slender fingers wrapped around a wrench. Eventually, the kaleidoscope of visions merged into one picture: both figures, so physically different yet so equally alluring to Jayce, intertwined, writhing wildly against one another in a devilish tango. Mel would always be on top, pressing the scientist’s frail figure onto the desk. His fingers would be entangled in her hair, her loosening his Academy tie as their mouths clashed against one another in a hot, messy, almost animalistic way. Every so often, the counselor would grind down, careful not to put too much pressure on Viktor’s bad leg, and a cacophony of their moans would reverberate through Jayce’s mind as he reached his climax, the evidence of his fantasies coating yet another pair of boxers. As he stared off into the darkness, catching his breath, conflicting feelings bubbled within him. He felt hedonistic, gluttonous. He wanted to taste both Mel and Viktor equally, and, to his chagrin, he also realized that he had a taste for both of their flavors combined. At times he would let his mind wonder, trying to concoct a strategy via which he could bring his two passions together, to maybe even get to indulge them both. However, post-release, a warm, comfortable fatigue enveloped him, and he abandoned the thought exercise for the night. That would be just too good to ever come true.

“I feel like the last Day of Progress was just yesterday, and yet it’s upon us again.”

Viktor’s gaze shot up from his glass, filled half-way with a light, Piltovian wine. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the sweetness, in private developing a taste for the banned Noxian export. But ultimately, if it got him drunk enough to get him through another stuffy, pretentious social gathering, the scientist was happy with anything. His eyes suddenly met emerald, encased in gold, and his breath stifled in his chest. Despite their very limited interaction, Counselor Medarda’s presence never failed to shoot a shiver down his spine. Something about the grace and agility with which she moved through the world, the way the sun reflected off the gold jewelry in her dark locks, the way the cascading light streamed down her burgundy grown with a deep slit which exposed one of her supple thighs evoked a certain feeling within Viktor he couldn’t quite place… it was more than just respect or admiration. It more so resembled… hunger? No, that’s impossible. He must’ve gotten too drunk already, Viktor told himself.

“Indeed,” he murmured, casting his gaze back onto the bottom of his glass, “can’t say that all of these festivities are particularly pleasant to me.”

Mel let out a melodic chuckle and brought her own glass to her lips. As she sipped, her eyes never left Viktor, observing the way his soft locks fell over his eyes, framing his face. This was a rare opportunity; up to this point she never managed to spend any time alone with the scientist, despite the burning curiosity she harbored for him. Something about his quiet, yet self-assured demeanor seemed entirely intoxicating, the counselor even finding herself somewhat flustered at times. Of course, she expertly hid any signs of her affection for him, and yet the desire to get to know him more grew with every passing day.

“That’s a shame. I’m sure some of these people would be overjoyed to talk to one of the greatest minds behind Hextech,” she gestured around the ballroom, filled to the brim with high profile guests. The event’s extravagance seemed to grow with every passing year, and what was once a day of appreciation of the newest scientific achievements of Piltover had now merged into lavish bidding wars between the wealthiest investors. Viktor scoffed and tipped the glass over, letting the final drops of his drink fall onto his tongue.

“With all due respect, Counselor Medarda, I would not be at all overjoyed to have to tolerate the presence of anyone in this room.”

Mel brought a hand to her chest, her face now contorted into an over-exaggerated expression of offence.

“Even me, Viktor?”

Warmth spread across Viktor’s cheeks, and he turned his head in attempt to hide the effect Mel saying his name had on him. He loved the way it rolled off her tongue, both syllables sounding awfully sweet slipping past her lips. Somewhere deep within, he couldn’t help but imagine the sultry way his name would rip from the counselor’s mouth as he sunk his tongue into her. He quickly swatted the thought away. Man, this Piltovian shit tasted like juice, yet hit hard.

“Of course not, counselor,” Viktor looked up at her, the amber in his eyes flickering playfully in the chandelier light as his digit traced the rim of his glass, “Your presence is always… utterly delightful.”

It was now Mel’s turn to conceal the warmth spreading throughout her body. Damn this man, she thought, no wonder Jayce likes him so much.

“Please, just call me Mel,” she tried to come off as nonchalant as possible, “It might be about time we get more familiar with one another.”

A smirk spread across Viktor’s face. The bags under his eyes revealed a state of incredible exhaustion, and yet the way his brows furrowed, and his eyes retained their laser-sharp focus made him irresistible.

“Do you care for another drink, Mel?” he savored the syllable on his tongue, letting it float off into the air. He found himself wanting to say it again and again, like a mantra.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Mel smiled at him and waved at the nearest waiter with a tray full of filled glasses. He nodded politely and scurried over to the counselor, extending his arm a bit, allowing her to take a pick of the identical glasses. With a courteous smile, Mel set her and Viktor’s empty glasses onto the tray and picked up two new ones, passing one to the man. For a split second, the tips of their fingers brushed against one another, sending a spike of electricity through both of them. For a few moments they sipped on their drinks, scanning everyone in the room. Both independently found Jayce in the crowd; he was dashing, dressed in a spotless tailored white suit which contrasted deliciously against his caramel skin, clean shaven and doused in cologne, he was working his charm on the newest Hextech investors. The counselor and the scientist both watched as the Man of Progress brought a gloved hand of some unknown woman to his slips, planting a soft kiss onto her knuckles, and both felt an irrational pang of jealousy in the pits of their stomachs.

A loud crash a few steps away from them tore them away from their observations. The waiter from earlier seemed to have lost control over the heavy tray, and it came crashing down onto the marble floor, sparks of crystal shards scattering in every direction. The poor man, pale and mortified, dove down onto the floor, attempting to collect the biggest shards onto the tray as his fellow coworkers rushed around for a broom and a pan. Suddenly, a sharp hiss emanated from the man, and he brought a finger to his lips. The scent immediately hit Mel; it was blood. The sweet, heavy, iron smell of blood filled her nostrils and traveled down to her lungs, and the counselor momentarily shut her eyes, knowing perfectly well that right about now the emerald of her eyes was cloaked over with a sheen of crimson. After a few seconds of steadying her breath, Mel instinctively looked over at Viktor, and the sight caught her off guard: the man sat with his elbows buried into his knees, palms cast over his face, jaw tight. Mel could have sworn she saw his shoulders rise and fall heavily, and as he felt her curious gaze on him and raised his head, there was no mistaking it – the honey pools of his eyes have become discolored with drops of blood. As their fiery gaze lingered on one another, neither could believe what they were seeing. They knew, as they looked into the eyes of the other, their own identical reflection was looking back at them, that they were both equally afflicted by the man’s blood, that they were one and the same. Before either could speak, Mel made a few haste steps towards Viktor and frantically pulled him up by the elbow, the man barely having the chance to grab his cane as she dragged him away into a dark corridor leading out of the ballroom. The tapping of his cane on the marble was drowned out by the chatter of the guests, who had long forgotten the waiter’s troubles and returned to whatever mindless chatter they were engaged in prior. When they reached the darkness of the corridor, Mel pressed Viktor against the cool wall, her chest inches away from his.

“Counselor–” the scientist was cut off by Mel’s thumb finding its way to his upper lip, lifting it up above his canine tooth. The procedure was utterly unnecessary, but she felt like she had to make one final check to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her. Sure enough, Viktor’s canines were elongated and razor sharp, the light of the ballroom dancing on the ivory surface. Mel’s eyebrow twitched and she let out a low chuckle.

“Unbelievable,” the counselor muttered, finally releasing Viktor, letting him regain his balance on his cane, “And I thought I was entirely alone around here.”

Viktor scoffed and ran a hand through his disheveled locks, glowing red eyes finding Mel’s figure in the dark.

“I must say I’m equally surprised, counselor. I would’ve never thought I would have anything in common with a woman of such a high standing.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the corridor as the two tried to make sense of their situation. Both had hoped to one day find those like themselves, to not feel so alone in their suffering and bloodlust, but to find out that they were so close the whole time? To fathom that the only person capable of understanding their condition was also the one they felt such a strong gravitational pull to? The thought was confronting.

Finally, Viktor cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“Well,” he started, moving closer to Mel in the darkness until he could hear her breath, “I am glad that it’s you I get to share my state of being with. You know, I was always afraid that once I discovered someone like myself I would find them insufferable. It’s good to know that that is not the case.”

 Mel smiled and found Viktor’s hand, resting on his cane, and grazed his knuckles with the pads of her fingers.

“You flatter me, Viktor,” she whispered, “We should probably go back soon. Jayce might start looking for us. Have you gone back to normal?”

Viktor nodded; his eyes have now stopped glowing red, returning to their usual vibrant honey hue. Carefully, one after another, they emerged from the corridor back into the light of the room. Looking over the crowd, both Mel and Viktor found themselves being overcome by a pleasant feeling of security and confidence. Finally, they were not alone, they had found someone capable of understanding the most primal aspects of themselves.

Mel’s eyes found Jayce again, and as she took in his cheery demeanor, a thought crossed her mind. She turned to Viktor, who also seemed to be watching Jayce intently.

“Viktor?”

“Yes, counselor?”

“Have you ever… drunk from Jayce?”

A glimmer of mischief flashed on Viktor’s face, and he shook his head lightly, a barely audible chuckle ripping out of him.

“I assure you, I have not,” with that, his eyes cast over the crowd again, “I have tasted many people present here right now, though. One of my favorite things about being… what we are is the fact that their memories are completely under our control. Makes hunting a lot easier, don’t you find?”

Mel chuckled, following Viktor’s gaze.

“Indeed. I couldn’t get a handle on it for a while, but once I did the opportunities seemed endless. Makes me wonder how many… donors you and I ended up accidentally sharing.”

“Pardon my, entirely self-indulgent, question, but did you ever consider hunting me, counselor?”Viktor was openly smirking now, leaning on his cane in a relaxed stance. Mel shot him a playful glance.

“Can’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. And what about you?”

“It would be a crime to pass up someone as delicious as you. Although, I must confess, I found myself feeling too timid to actually try.”

Another wave of silence cascaded over them as they continued to people-watch. Both of them knew what the other was doing now; they were looking for their next meal. In the abundance of flavors floating around the room, settling on just one proved to be difficult. Their gazes landed on Jayce again, who was now conversing with a couple of distinguished-looking gentlemen at the opposite end of the room.

An epiphany struck both vampires at once.

“Mel?”

“Yes?”

“You know, we could celebrate our newfound connection by indulging in someone both of us seem to enjoy,” Viktor nodded in the general direction of the man, with Mel following his movement with her eyes. His proposition didn’t register at first. Viktor wanted the both of them to drink from Jayce… together? The more she thought about it, the more enticing the idea seemed. She could feel a familiar hunger rise from the pit of her stomach again.

“That seems like a wonderful idea, Viktor.”

As the night drew to a close and almost every guest has departed from the festivities, Mel and Viktor found Jayce slumped over in a chair in the far corner of the room. His shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, cheeks flushed from the heat and alcohol, eyes dimmed. The poor Golden Boy seemed to have been squeezed dry by all the mingling, his impeccable charm proving to be a finite resource. The man was so tired he didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps encircling his chair, only perking up when a small, soft palm planted on his broad shoulder.

“Has the Man of Progress had a long night?” Jayce nuzzled into Mel’s hand, her singing tone putting him in a trance. All Jayce wanted in that moment was to collapse into bed, wrapped in Mel’s long, slender arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his back as he drifted off.

“Looks like he might use a good night’s rest” a familiar, low voice snapped Jayce away from his comatose state as he looked up, eyes meeting Viktor’s as he looked down at him with a small, mocking smile on his lips. As he felt Viktor’s hand grasp his other shoulder, the lack of normalcy in the scene unfolded before him started to dawn on Jayce. When did his respective work partners get so close to each other? How long was this going on?

Too tired to engage with these questions, Jayce grunted and tore himself up from the seat, letting Mel’s and Viktor’s grips on his shoulders steady him. With the both of them so close, Jayce suddenly felt very hot. The deep neckline and slit of Mel’s dress, Viktor’s tie, now slightly loosened and his hair disheveled, all of it made every dirty scene he ever imagined of the two of them resurface in his mind. He frantically tried to shoo the visions away, afraid that his body would give him away. As he struggled, both of his companions started walking, leading him by the shoulders, steadying his swaying movements.

“Come on, Golden Boy,” Mel cooed, maneuvering the much larger man through the doorway, “Let’s get you nice and cozy.”  

By the time the trio reached the doors of Jayce’s apartment, the chilly night air worked its magic enough to almost fully sober the man up. To his own surprise, he even managed to insert the key into the lock with relative ease.

“You don’t mind if we stay for a little bit, do you?” Viktor asked, already having let himself and Mel in. Not that Jayce minded, of course. His only concern was his rapidly warming body, his quickening pulse, his trousers, threatening to start tenting at any second. He watched as Mel plopped down onto his plush sofa, long flowy skirt falling away from her leg, the entire length of it being visible through the slit of her dress, stopping teasingly at the hipbone. The woman’s head dropped back onto the sofa pillow with a relieved exhale, the delicate curve of her neck now fully exposed, making Jayce’s mouth water.

Off at the other end of the sofa, Viktor also took his seat, resting his cane against the side of his couch. He ran his hand through his hair, now hopelessly and irreversibly messed up, and fully removed his tie, letting his collarbones peak out from the loose collar of his shirt. Jayce felt something inside him twist and turn as he looked at the smaller man, taking in his carelessly plastered out form on his couch. His eyes followed the movement of Viktor’s digits against the fabric of the cushion, relishing in the way the soft material swallowed up the tips of his lab partner’s fingers. Mel and Viktor were supple steaks dangling in front of the snout of a starved lion, and the lion, despite being as desperate as ever, had no idea what to do.

Viktor decided to help the poor man out and patted the empty space on the couch cushion between him and Mel.

“Go on,” his voice came out in a low purr, “You must be tired.”

Jayce immediately obeyed, fitting in carefully between the two figures. The sofa was a tinge too small for the three of them, so both Mel’s and Viktor’s thighs ended up pressed firmly against Jayce’s. His palms were now slicked with sweat, small beads of moisture forming around his brow and under the collar of his shirt. Jayce’s distress only increased as he felt Mel trace a bulging vein on the side of his neck with the tip of her perfectly manicured nail.

“You seem tense, Jayce,” the man squirmed as Mel’s warm breath brushed against his neck, her finger gently tracing his jaw now. The heat radiating off the woman was intoxicating, the sweet scent of her perfume enveloped every neuron. Without thinking, Jayce stole a glance at Mel’s cleavage, ever so slightly visible through the cut of her dress, and the sight sent him running even more hot. Before he could muster up an answer, Jayce felt Viktor’s hand on his muscular thigh; the man was watching his face intently, rubbing small circles into the fabric of his white trousers as he did. A small mewl slipped out of Jayce, and he clamped a palm over his mouth in embarrassment.

“Ow, poor baby,” Mel whispered against his ear, her hand now loosening his tie. At that point, Jayce seldom understood what was happening, and, quite frankly, he didn’t care. Everything he ever wanted was happening to him now, and he would be damned to do anything to make this fantastical night stop.

“Who would’ve thought that such a big, strong man would come undone under some simple touches?” Viktor mocked, suddenly nipping at Jayce’s earlobe as his hand traveled from his thigh to his crotch, his touches feather-light. This coaxed another whimper out of Jayce, his back arching slightly as he tried to generate more friction between himself and Viktor’s palm, earning a snicker out of both Viktor and Mel.

“Look at him,” Mel’s fingers were working away at the top buttons of Jayce’s shirt, “Squirming already. What a desperate boy,” with his neck now sufficiently exposed, Mel pressed her hot, wet tongue flat against the salty surface of his skin, licking and kissing up to just underneath the man’s jawline. Jayce’s eyes fluttered half-shut as every kiss forced more sighs and moans out of the man, facilitated by Viktor’s continuing palming of his tenting trousers. Shivers ran up and down Jayce’s spine, goosebumps erupted across his skin as he drunk up the ecstasy.

Then, suddenly, a piercing pain seared through the side of the man’s neck. Without knowing what was causing it, Jayce tried to rip away, but unnaturally strong hands held him in place, gripping his jaw, keeping him still as something attached to his skin. Fighting the pain, Jayce cast his eyes down to the source of the pain. To his astonishment, he saw Mel, her mouth latched onto the vein of his neck, sucking at his skin. As Jayce registered a thin trickle of crimson streaming down his neck out of the seal between Mel’s lips and his skin, he realized that this was more than a love bite. She was drinking from him, drinking his blood. Could she be one of those creatures from the urban legends of Piltover, one of the monsters who hunted down lone travelers in the night and sucked them dry of their blood? As these thoughts rushed through Jayce’s mind, he glanced over to Viktor. He was still tentatively watching his face, seemingly observing every shift in his expression, and to his horror Jayce noticed a glint of scarlet red in his lab partner’s eyes. Whatever Mel was, Jayce realized, battling his rapidly clouding consciousness, Viktor was the same. They trapped him, and now he was their prey for the taking. As a last-ditch attempt to break free, Jayce jerked his entire body, the action yielding no results. Viktor’s thumb met Jayce’s cheek, wiping away a bead of tears which had fallen from Jayce’s bloodshot eye.

“Shh,” he cooed, pressing his body further into Jayce’s side, increasing the pressure of his hand on Jayce’s crotch slightly, earning a hoarse moan from the man as pain and pleasure started to morph into one, “We won’t hurt you. You are just so irresistible, we can’t help but drink from you.”

 Mel had pulled away from Jayce’s neck now, blood smeared in the corner of her mouth, a thin stream dripping down her chin. Viktor leaned over Jayce, dragging his thumb down from the woman’s lower lip to her chin before licking his thumb clean. Jayce watched him intently, every dart of the man’s wet, glistening tongue causing his cock to twitch. Upon a closer look at Mel, Viktor realized that she hadn’t swallowed the last gulp of blood, holding it in her mouth instead. No words had to be exchanged; Viktor leaned over Jayce further, cupping both sides of Mel’s face in his palms, making sure to be in Jayce’s direct view. The man’s breath hitched as he watched his lab partner bring Mel’s mouth to his, their lips clashing as Viktor drank Jayce’s blood from Mel’s mouth. The two let out small moans and whimpers, the pleasure from the intake of blood mixing with the pleasure of their clashing tongues as they explored each other. Some blood dribbled down the side of Mel’s mouth again, and Viktor took it upon himself to lick down from the corner of the counselor’s mouth, down her chin and along the length of her neck, catching every drop as she mewled in pleasure. Viktor lingered at the side of Mel’s neck, kissing and sucking at one specific spot at which her gasps and moans got louder, one of her hands got entangled in his long, brunette locks. Both were excited to finally touch one another, releasing the frustration bottled up after years of casting each other longing looks in the corridors of the Academy.

Jayce was fully hard now, erection leaking and painful against the constraints of his trousers. More than anything he wanted to rip his trousers and underwear off and stroke himself to the sight of his lab partner and his girlfriend making out, bloody and desperate. But whether it was due to the blood loss or some paranormal trance the two put him under, the man could barely move, only relegated to helplessly watch. A short whine slipped out of him as he bucked into the air lightly, trying to relieve the dull ache forming at his groin. The reaction earned a few short laughs from the two.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Jayce,” Mel mocked, cupping Jayce’s cheek in her palm, “Do you feel left out?”

The woman’s hand traveled down to his crotch, feeling its hardness beneath her fingers. Jayce yelped underneath her touch, feverishly trying to grind against her.

“I think he is quite eager now,” Viktor chimed in, hooking a finger under the buckle of Jayce’s belt, “Do you think he has been good enough to be rewarded?” he raised an eyebrow at Mel. The woman put on an overly exaggerated expression of contemplation. Jayce felt like he was going mad, his mind was melting from the feathery touches, blood loss and verbal humiliation. The man was seconds away from exploding.

“I don’t know, Viktor,” Mel muttered, cocking her head as she looked deeply into Jayce’s tear-stained eyes, “Why don’t we get his trousers off and see?”

With that, the woman reached over and grasped the sides of the man’s thick neck with her fingers, squeezing lightly, cutting off just enough air to make his head spin even more. Jayce’s vision blurred as he felt Viktor expertly undo his belt and buttons, slipping his trousers off with ease as Mel’s hand stayed on his neck, her crimson eyes taking in his spaced-out expression. Jayce let out a moan of relief as Viktor, after discarding his trousers onto the floor, pulled off his boxers in a swift motion, releasing the man’s painful erection.

His thick, pulsating member sprung up into the cold air of the room, the head already red and swollen, leaking clear streaks of precum. Both Mel and Viktor took a moment to admire the way Jayce was splayed out in front of them, barely able to move, with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and eyes rolling into the back of his head as he mindlessly bucked into the air. He was more than they had ever imagined.

“Please…” he finally managed to mutter, his voice strained and laced with desire. Viktor cocked his head and grabbed Jayce’s jaw, taking his head and neck out of Mel’s grasp so that Jayce’s eyes met his now.

“Please, what? You are a big boy, use your words,” the scientist teased. Jayce squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, then cracked them open again.

“Please… touch me.”

That earned a satisfied huff out of Viktor as his palm came down and wrapped around the man’s shaft, earning a borderline animalistic grunt out of him. As Viktor slowly moved his hand up and down, pumping Jayce’s cock painfully slowly, occasionally swiping his thumb over the slit, Mel sat back, leaning back on the arm of the sofa. As Jayce’s eyes found her, she spread her legs, slowly grazing the soft flesh of her thigh with her fingernail all the way up, until her finger disappeared under the fabric of her dress. With her other hand, she pulled the straps of the dress down over her shoulders, exposing the bare flesh of her breasts to the air. Both of her nipples were adorned with gold jewelry and hardened in the cold air. Both men were watching her now, struggling to focus between the hand which was gently pinching and rolling one of her nipples between its fingers, and the other, which has hooked a finger under the strap of her panties and was pulling them down slowly. Viktor continued lazily pumping Jayce’s cock, feeling his own erection stir as Mel finally pulled her black lacy panties off, her heat still being covered by the bottom half of her dress. Viktor stretched out his hand, and she dropped the bunched-up fabric into his palm, which he carefully unfolded and draped over Jayce’s shaft, continuing to pump his cock with Mel’s panties now wrapped around it, the slick left behind by her core mixing with his precum. Jayce let out a high-pitched moan as Mel shoved two of her fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit. She then retracted them, and repositioned herself on the sofa, pulling the fabric of her dress away to reveal her sopping pussy. Viktor couldn’t help bust hastily undo his own trousers with one hand and grasp his member in his hand at the sight of Mel tracing her entrance with her fingers, wet from Jayce’s spit, as she circled her clit in small, gentle circles, letting out soft mewls, her gaze traveling between the two men as they watched her hungrily.

“You want to taste me first, pretty boy?” she breathed, her eyes set on Viktor. The man did not hesitate, releasing Jayce’s member and carefully kneeling on the floor in front of Mel, bringing his face close to her entrance.

She let out a yelp as the scientist’s tongue dipped in between her folds, sliding up and down her entrance, eventually circling the clit. Mel’s moans and the sounds of lapping and slurping filled the room, Jayce feeling like he is going to cum from the sight alone. Mel’s eyes rolled back, and her head fell onto the sofa cushion, fingers still playing with one nipple and Viktor reached up and found the other, tugging at the jewelry lightly as he devoured her pussy with hunger comparable to his bloodlust. His eyes never left Jayce’s, and as Mel’s breathing got faster and she started squirming under this grasp, Viktor pulled away, pulling himself up Jayce’s body until he was straddling him and their mouths collided, tongues dancing against one another as they savored Mel’s taste. Viktor’s hands ran through Jayce’s perfectly styled hair, messing it up, and their teeth clashed against each other animalistically. Eventually, Viktor pulled away from him and nodded in the direction of Mel, who continued playing with herself while watching them.

“Your turn now,” he muttered breathlessly, and just like that Jayce regained his ability to move. He carefully moved Viktor off him, being careful not to hurt his leg, and sat him back onto the sofa. He then got on his hands and knees in front of Mel and, casting all patience aside, buried his face between her legs, tongue dancing wildly over her clit as her mewls transitioned to loud moans. Copying Viktor, he reached up and played with Mel’s nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, coaxing even louder sounds out of her. The sight of her face, contorted in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, drove him to half madness and as continued feverishly lapping at her cunt.

Meanwhile, Viktor moved behind Jayce, wetting his fingers in his mouth before lightly grazing his asshole, earning a surprised gasp from the man. Viktor’s other hand snaked between his legs and grasped his cock again, pumping faster as he dipped one of his fingers into him just to the knuckle. Jayce had to stop to let out a moan for a second, and Viktor’s and came down sharply on the cheek of his ass.

“Did I say you could stop?” he hissed, “Your job is to make Counselor Medarda feel good.”

Jayce let out an incoherent drabble and returned to his work, circling Mel’s clit as her hands became entangled in his hair, pushing his head further into her core. Viktor resumed as well, dipping a finger fully into Jayce now as his other hand worked his shaft at a merciless pace. Jayce tried his best to not break rhythm, with each stifled moan sending a vibration through her which made her squirm in pleasure.

Gradually, Viktor added more fingers, abusing Jayce’s tight hole further as he pumped in and out of him at the same speed as his other hand worked his cock. Jayce was a dribbling mess now, nose pressed onto Mel’s clit, tongue darting around wildly as he chased his own high. Suddenly, another sharp jolt of pain spread through Jayce, this time originating at his waist. He glanced backwards and saw Viktor’s mouth latching onto the skin on the back of his waist, sharp teeth piercing the skin as he drank from him again. A warm fog started filling Jayce’s head again, the pain from the bite and pleasure of what Viktor’s hands were doing to him mixing into new and unfamiliar sensations. As Mel writhed and panted, Jayce slipped a thick finger into her opening, taking in the feeling of her walls clenching around him as he continued to glide his tongue over her clit.

Behind him, Viktor pulled away from his skin, mouth smeared with blood. He let a mouthful of blood dribble out of his mouth onto his own throbbing member, smearing it until it was completely covered. He then lined himself up with Jayce’s entrance, pushing into him slowly as the man writhed underneath him. Carefully, Viktor pushed every inch of him in, staying still for a few moments before starting to slowly oscillate backwards and forwards.

“Such a good boy, so tight for me,” he gasped out as the base of his cock hit Jayce’s skin again, “Now, I am going to fuck you, and you are not allowed to cum until Counselor Medarda does, do you understand?”

As Jayce nodded and whined in agreement, Viktor picked up the pace, hips snapping mercilessly against Jayce’s ass as his moans reverberated from the walls of the room.  Viktor continued moving at a punishing pace, landing occasional smacks onto the flesh of Jayce’s ass, reveling in the way scarlet handprints formed on his skin. With every thrust Jayce got louder, more distracted from Mel’s pussy, forcing Viktor to grab a fistful of the man’s hair and press him back down, planting the flat of Jayce’s tongue against the counselor’s red and swollen clit.

“Come on, make her cum, Jayce. I want to see her cum in your mouth,” Viktor muttered in Jayce’s ear, picking up the pace of his own movements to a superhuman speed. Desperate to please, Jayce inserted another finger into Mel, pumping and licking as fast as he could, making her squeeze her thighs tightly around his head.

“Fuck, yes, just like that. Such a good boy, so eager to make me cum, huh?” she gasped, grinding against Jayce’s face. The knot in the pit of her stomach got impossibly tight, and in a few seconds, it burst, spreading a wave of ecstasy and heat through her body as she shook and spasmed, thighs still clamped around Jayce’s head as she rode out her high on his tongue. It was at that moment that Jayce came undone, thighs shaking streaks of hot cum shout out of him and landed on the plush fabric of the couch.

As Mel caught her breath and released Jayce from her grasp, Viktor continued pounding away at him, chasing his own high. Overstimulated, Jayce tried to pull away, but was held firmly in place, only being able to press his face harder into the cushion as Viktor fucked him mercilessly.

“Take it, good boy, take it. I’m so close, you feel so good, fuck,” Viktor drabbled incoherently as he reached his peak, cumming deep inside Jayce, filling him to the brim with his warmth. Jayce whined as Viktor slowly pulled out, watching his cum dribble out of Jayce’s hole and slide down his thigh.

After a few moments of everyone catching their breath, Mel lifted off the couch, gesturing for the men to follow her. They made it into Jayce’s bedroom, where they climbed into his bed and nuzzled up to one another, Jayce in the middle as Mel and Viktor encased him from both sides, peppering small kisses onto his temples and neck. As he, now properly fucked out and tired, started to drift off to sleep, he could make out Mel’s and Viktor’s voices. They sounded muffled, distant, as if they were miles away.

“So, are we going to make him forget?” he heard Mel ask.

“No,” he muttered, half asleep, nuzzling further into Viktor’s neck, “Don’t. I want to remember this night. I want to remember everything.”

The two chuckled, and as all of them drifted off to sleep, Jayce couldn’t help but smile at the thought that the reality he found himself in was much better than any fantasy he had every harbored.

[heartelysia]

tomb for two

cr: lalalycheeee

"dance with me the gallowdance" ; in which you can't stand the mercenary but he's determined to change that.

cw ; special jill appearance, caught, semi-public sex, train sex, hatefucking/hate sex, rough, enemies to ?, forced eye contact, p in v, begging, coworkers to ?, viktor mikhail appearance

note ; another repost from my ao3! ill work on a new piece (soon) :3

you hated him. you hated - no, despised - everything that he had to offer. so your first meeting sure was unfavourable, even if you both were in the UBCS.

"did the UBCS really hire a mercenary captain?", you said, your usually soft voice carried a heavy weight of malice and disdain. Viktor chuckles, glancing at you as he notices the big change in your demeanour as Carlos' heavy steps echo in the barren train carriage.

the mercenary avoids your harsh glare, simply scoffing as he exchanges greetings with the captain. your ears perk up at the sound of softer footsteps approaching, slowing down as their boots hovered over the gap between the platform and train. you glance at the figure, a beautiful brunette girl who had blood splattered on her body with a few minor scratches.

you render their rather lengthy conversation out from your ears, the sound of feet scuffling from the next carriage of citizens filling your senses as your gaze stares intensely at the special tactics officer. raking your eyes up and down her, almost like you were trying to carve a mental image of her in your mind.

"hey y/n."

the husky voice rips you out of your trance, you glance over at the source of the voice, your captain. the older male flashes you a small smile, "go with carlos. you two need to learn how to bond anyway.", he said with the heavy accent everyone recognised him for. your face scrunches up into one of disdain as you begrudgingly sigh, pushing yourself off the walls of the train, you wouldn't want to disrespect your superiors anyway.

jill's eyes follow your movements curiously as you snatch a radio out of carlos' large hand and walking off first. captain viktor lets out a chuckle at your childish attitude before glancing at carlos, giving him an expectant look to go with you. carlos looks back at the captain, sighing softly as he leaves the train, tailing you close behind.

light huffs and desperate heaves for air echo in the chilling night, the cold breeze brushing against your bare skin causing goosebumps to form, the streetlamps on the main roads used to light up the area and now they were in ruins with flames to light the path instead. you place your hand over your knees, trying to catch your breath as silently as possible whilst a wave of infected stumbled past.

you grunt softly, clutching the cut in your thigh that had been slashed by an infected, almost immobilising you as it tore through your ligaments but not deep enough to completely neutralize you. "fuck-... can't we just take them on? we both know we can.", you grumble whilst wincing in pain just a bit, carlos turns around to face you, still slightly catching his breath before gently scoffing. "look at the state you're in. can't be loosing my favourite coworker now can i?", he mumbles, dragging his eyes up and down you, eyes landing back onto the wide gash.

"if i'm your favourite coworker, how about you help me out?", you quickly snap back, glaring daggers at him as you lace your voice with disgruntle and sarcasm. the mercenary softly chuckles before turning around and beginning to walk away, you sigh before clicking your tongue in annoyance. you two seemed to never pair well.

"come on, this way.", his gruff voice rings in your ear, you couldn't help but feel the burning agitation growing in your stomach as his very sexy voice ricochets off the walls of the alleyway the two of you were traversing through. you drag your feet towards him, following him from behind.

the walk back to the train station was oddly serene - well aside from the crackling of flames and the groans of infected - the air felt fresh, could you be going insane? possibly.

the mercenary leads you into the train carriage, patting at seat beside him as he pulls out a first aid kit. you glance between the seat and carlos before sighing to yourself and taking a seat, "wow. must be your way of helping me hm?", you sarcastically ask, deadpanning at the handsome man.

he simply laughs it off, pushing the hem of your shorts further up your thigh as he begins to disinfect and clean the wound. "i don't know much about first aid aside from basically training but this will have to do.", carlos softly murmurs, a surprising side of the mercenary. you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter despite the itching disdain you had for him.

you scoff, grabbing onto one of the poles beside the train seats, "fuck you mercenary. you're the bane of my existence.", you grumble, glaring down at the man patching you up. "is that a good thing?", you sigh at his response, simply not bothering to answer the mercenary.

as silence rolls over the two of you, carlos finishes patching your wound up, wrapping it once last time with a thick cloth. you quickly stand back up, getting used to the feeling of cloth against your thigh. in almost a blink of an eye, you feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs as your wrists are suddenly held together with your back against the cold wall.

"what the fuck-?!", you yelp, heart racing as you glare at carlos. "jesus christ! a little warning next time?", you huff, brows knitting together as you frown softly.

carlos smirks, his hands firmly holding your wrists against the train wall as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "sorry, darlin'... couldn't resist the temptation. you've got this fiery spirit that drives me wild.", he chuckles softly, his voice low and husky.

it felt wrong but so right at the same time, you couldn't help but melt into his grasp, all of the agitation from him slow dissipating. he wastes no time, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he presses his body against yours, trapping you against the wall once again. the mercenary's lips crash against yours, a passionate and hungry kiss, his tongue teasingly exploring your mouth as your fingers tangle themselves in his messy hair.

the mercenary slowly pulls away, you slowly catch your breath, panting softly as his hands roam your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. his fingers trail along your curves, igniting a trail of desire in their wake. "fuck-... do you still want it?", he softly mumbles, his voice much softer as he checks in with you.

you nod, cheeks flushed with heavy breaths. you might not have said much but your eyes told carlos everything, every single filthy fantasy you've had. carlos grins, a glimmer of primal desire in his eyes as he watches your movements. "hold on tight then, 'cause I'm about to give you exactly what you're asking for." with a single swift motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he positions himself between your thighs.

carlos' hand snake down to your pants, skillfully undoing the belt buckle with one hand as his lips latch onto the side of your neck. the mercenary pulls down your pants until they rest on your upper thigh, the material pressed up against his visible bulge. he quickly unzips his fly, pulling his cock out, the angry tip gently tapping his abdomen as it leaks beads of precum.

without any further hesitation, he thrusts into you with a forceful intensity, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the empty carriage. the rough friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation combining pain and pleasure in an intoxicating mix. carlos' grip on your hips tightens as he sets a relentless pace, his primal instincts taking over.

he doesn't hold back, each powerful thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the sound of your moans and his grunts fill the air, the raw intensity of the moment consuming both of you. carlos's free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, forcing you to peer into his eyes, "what happened to the bitchy attitude hm?.", he teases, his voice condescending his he ruts his cock into your tight cunt.

his hips slam into yours at a violent pace, the train seats squeaking with each sloppy thrust. the mercenary grunts against your skin, his brows knitting together as a string of moans and groans spill from both of your lips. with your back pressed flush against the cold train walls, his hands rest under your thighs, pushing his nails into your skin as it leaves small crescent markings of him.

your eyes trail down his arm, trying to resist the urge to throw your head back as you cuss him out, watching the way his veins bulge against his tight black shirt, his pants tossed somewhere else as hes lost in a trance. "fuck- fucking bitch... so much attitude but- but now, look at your slutty pussy sucking me in.", carlos groans, fighting back a cocky smirk as his hips rut into you at a feral pace, almost like hes trying to carve himself into your insides.

he releases a hand from your thighs, dragging his thick fingers from your ribcage to your tits, harshly pinching your nipple through your thin shirt as he tries to add a hint of pain to your sexual experience. you grit your teeth, glaring at him past the lustful gaze you have, "i-it fucking hurts-!", you hiss, hands shakily wrapping around his wrist. carlos scoffs, a hint of laughter in his voice as he jerks his hips into yours, his cock digging into your plush g-stop.

your hand instinctively pulls away from his wrist at the pleasure, your body writhing in lust as the man pounding your sopping cunt continues to toy with your sensitive bud, the coil in your tummy tightening. as the pleasure builds, carlos' rhythm becomes more erratic, his thrusts deeper and harder. his lips find yours once again, his kiss claiming and possessive, as if he wants to imprint himself upon you.

he continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic, his own release building. the coil in your stomach suddenly comes undone, your walls clench around him, he groans loudly. the sound mixing with your cries of pleasure with the lewd noises of wet skin slapping. "fucking hell-... what a pussy," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. carlos' thrusts become more urgent, his own orgasm crashing over him as he spills his seed inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

carlos softly sighs with relief as his cock spills his warm cum inside of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. as the two of your highs die down, he peers up at you. "are we good now...?", he asks, breathily chuckling. you simply scoffs, pressing a small peck on his cheek, "sure. we're even now.", carlos playfully rolls his eyes.

"the tension needed to be broke... but like this?"

a sudden voice breaks the comfortable quiet environment, both of your heads snap in the direction of the voice. "ugh... get a room for gods sakes..", the brunette grumbles, closing her eyes as she turns on her heels just to leave.

[cerosin-bis]

Hello again and don't worry about the former question :) and I'm sorry to annoy again😭 but I can't help it.. KruegerNikto gives me something to think about. Can you give us Headcannons especially about their relationship? Like, are they jealous(u mentioned that Krueger will 100% cheat but is also kinda possessive), do they beat each other bloody when they have a disagreement, are there things that they hate about each other, and what I am the most interested about: how does Krueger manage to calm Nikto during a psychotic episode??

I feel so annoying, I'm so sorry!!

Hi! and you're not annoying!! You're ALL being super lovely in your asks, which makes my heart full - I'm just slow, I'm sorry 🥲 But I am more than happy to be asked for more Krueger/Nikto!! So it is my pleasure to answer your questions. Sorry this got long, when given the opportunity to talk about them it just flows out from my fingertips. CW for unhealthy dynamics.

Both of them are jealous, in a territorial way, but particularly Nikto. @modernghostfare summarised it well here. Nikto is direct about it, while Krueger is underhanded. Krueger is used to having a hold on people/people coming back to him, while Nikto is insecure (in his Nikto way). For Krueger it's about asserting control and for Nikto it's more about asserting possession.

They do fight sometimes. It can be nasty. It's usually a game for Krueger since he has the upper hand in melee combat, but if Nikto is mad *mad* and actually wants to hurt him, Krueger has to actively retaliate and it can escalate quickly to the point they break bones and/or need to be physically separated.

They don't hate anything about one another, really. Nikto just hates the fact that he trusts Krueger. and that he cannot read his mind.

Krueger has 2 ways to ground Nikto during a psychotic episode (*disclaimer: this is NOT how it works in real life. this is just my fictionalised "version" of nikto's condition and kn's dynamic) :

1) if it's a violent outburst Krueger immobilises him. Nikto can be extremely violent but if he's not entirely there, then Krueger can and will overpower him quite easily and keep his face on the floor for as long as necessary. It's foolproof and works everytime in this specific case.

2) if it's "just" hardcore dissociation he has ways to talk him through it. Asking him questions if he feels like Nikto is almost there. Provoking him (making his brain stop and recalculate, if you will), or reassuring him. Nikto's psychotic outbursts are often immediately followed by distress/anguish, in which case Krueger will stand by him. Cushion the coming down phase with silence, a shared cigarette and a hand stroking his hair.

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Friday I'm In Love: Chapter One

Written by blackjeans93 on our subreddit!

CW: Very temporary character death.

Summary:

Due to unwelcome news given to him by Aziraphale, Crowley accidentally breaks time. How can he fix it? And more to the point - does he want to?

Excerpt:

“Oops,” he whispered, weakly. He pulled his sunglasses off and his eyes adjusted to the dark; slit pupils widening, his night vision stronger than that of humans. His thoughts became clearer and the electricity in the atmosphere returned to a bearable level now it had had its way with Crowley’s corporation.

“That was a bit more than oops. You’ve immobilised the train,” Aziraphale chided in a whisper. Crowley felt like that was a bit rich of the angel, standing there with his lips still glistening from kisses. He supposed it wasn’t something they were going to talk about.

“We should probably get out of here before it gets tedious, Angel,” Crowley finally slurred, trying and failing to don his familiar persona of uncaring coolness. He snapped his fingers to open the sliding doors nearest to them. The doors didn’t move.

“Little help?” Crowley asked, weakly. “Demonic misdeeds took it out of me.”

Continue reading on AO3

Thank you to u/PurpleMoonPagan and u/Yes-its-unholy for the beta ❤️

[princes-creations-askblog]

Oh boy, Mona has a ref sheet now! Good for it!

This uh. Thing! My beloved crazy bitch :)

All its info + hex codes under the cut!

CW: Experimentation, violence, descriptions of gore, implied cannibalism

Full name: It just goes by Pheromone

Aliases: ‘Mona’ (don’t call it that unless you feel like being eaten alive)

Species: Imp (Concept Species 12)

Planet of Origination: Concept Universe (“the Void”)

Age: 132

Height: 6’5”

Gender: Biologically female; identifies as genderless

Pronouns: It/Its/Itself — She/Her/Hers (CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY)

Sexuality: Prefers not to label its sexuality; simply refers to itself as gay

S/O: Astrallon

Family: Unnamed parents, unnamed sister

Curious traveler from the Concept Universe, created by the Goddess of Ykka.

Experimented on and transformed into… something.

After escaping the experimentation facility, it settled in the Fae Forest with another victim of the experiments.

It enjoys scaring the living hell out of people it doesn’t like. It utilises its new abilities to do so to the furthest extent.

Loud, sassy, and easily upset. It’s not the kindest when socialising, but it definitely loves to talk, and is never not seen speaking its mind. The experiments done on it had some odd effects, including thicker, bioluminescent blood, the newfound ability to shapeshift specific parts of its body (specifically its wings and the length of its tail), and strangest of all, effective immortality. Even if its head were to be completely detached, it would still be able to move both its disembodied head and the rest of its body, and reconnect the parts. One of the surgeries conducted on it removed the vast majority of its internal organs, replacing them with inorganic structures with unknown uses. Its modified body responded to the foreign objects by forcibly ripping them out, developing odd tentacle-like organs in place of them. The tentacles are coated in an acidic substance capable of burning through most organic materials, including bones if left for long enough, that its body protects itself against with a coating of an unknown substance, that acts similarly to how the stomach prevents its acid from digesting itself.

It usually stays in the forest, occasionally leaving to visit its Earthling friends, or to find something to eat when food in the surrounding forest is low or not to its liking (it is mostly carnivorous, and it has a very large appetite; woodland animals tend to not be enough to fill it).

It utilises its tail and stingers to attack, immobilise and kill its prey, occasionally using its teeth to simply bite through sensitive areas, or scratching through to the internal organs with its claws. When it feels like it, it might also use its tentacles to burn and rip its prey apart.

Hex codes

Both:

#000000 — Nose / Fishnets

#131313 — Eyes

#141613 — Hair

#33392F — Skin 2

#EBF3E7 — Skin 1

#EEF0E8 — Wing bones

#FFFFFF — Claws / Teeth

#5FFF28 — Pupil / Blood

Before escape:

#919191 — Chains / Collar

#B4B8B1 — Bandages

#CCE8E0 — Medical gown

After escape:

#101010 — Harnesses

#232323 — Shirt

#184200 — Sutures

#35443F — Shorts

#C4DFB6 — Scars

#C1C1C1 — Metal… things? I’ll be honest, I don’t know what those are called

Wings:

#111111 — Feathers base

#001D01 — Flight feathers fade

[star1117-archives]

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚 - 𝐉.𝐖𝐘

Part of the Mental health comforts series

♕ pairing: jung wooyoung x gn!reader

♕ genre: angst + hurt/comfort (?)

♕ w/c: 697

♕ cw + tw: schizophrenia, hitting, description of an episode, pinching, crying, use of medication, intimacy, faint mentions of injury

♕ a/n: thank you again to @theyungihven for checking this was an accurate portrayal of schizophrenia !!

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

Wooyoung merely sighed when you hit him in the side again, biting his lip to keep in the pained groan fighting to be freed. His arms remained wrapped around you, holding you to him despite your volatile actions. He wasn’t gonna let go of you, no matter how hard you screamed.

“C’mon Y/N, it’s me. It’s Wooyoung. You know me.”

You still struggled in Wooyoung’s grasp despite his words, doing everything in your power to break free.

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?! I know you’re one of them, Wooyoung! You can’t fool me!”

Wooyoung gritted his jaw as his eyes welled with tears, trying to stay strong. Your episodes had recently become progressively longer and more severe, and you refused to take your medication. It was used to immobilise you, you said, make you too drugged up to understand what’s going on. They were trying to make you docile so they could watch you without any problems, and Wooyoung was trying to help them.

“You’re wrong, Y/N, I promise. I’m one of the good guys, okay? I’m just trying to help you.”

Wooyoung hissed quietly when you pinched his side, trying to get him to loosen his grip momentarily so you could escape, but he didn’t let up. He had realised a while back that the best way to help you was to keep you from leaving, and getting yourself into trouble, and semi-playing into your delusions. If he made you believe that he agreed with you, it was usually easier to get you to listen to reason.

“You’re just saying that! You’re one of them! Let me go!”

Wooyoung shook his head, only holding you tighter as your attacks began to weaken. He let you scream and yell in his grasp, obscenities and vile threats pouring from your lips until eventually, you fell silent. You were frozen in his arms, rigid, the only signs of life visible were the tears streaming down your face, eyes open and empty. Slowly relaxing his grip, Wooyoung let his hands fall to your waist loosely, stroking comforting circles into your sides. His voice was even and calming as he spoke, something quite unusual to see from the male who usually exuberated life and mischief.

“Let’s go get your medication, Baby. Hm?”

You just nodded, almost a shell of yourself as the male led you over to the kitchen. The silence hung heavy and thick over the two of you, the rattle of your pill bottle the only sound filling it. Wooyoung placed two into your palm before offering you a glass of water, watching intently as you swallowed the medicine and lifted your tongue, just as the doctor had instructed. Nodding approvingly, Wooyoung pressed a kiss to your cheek with a small smile, opening his arms once again. A question this time, rather than an imperative.

“Do you want a hug?”

You finally turned to Wooyoung, gaze boring into him for what seemed like forever. Time seemed to slow as you analysed him, before finally making your decision. Pacing the small distance between the two of you, you let the male embrace you, even though your hands stayed firmly at your sides.

You stayed like this for a while, time seemingly flowing on its own accord now. No words were exchanged, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. You then let your hand travel higher, pressing into a scratch mark you had made earlier on Wooyoung, drawing out a pained hiss from the other. Your voice was hoarse from shouting as you spoke, touch now considerably more light.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head at you, kissing your temple with a playful role of his eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Now come on, I need a smart, stunning young doctor to patch up my wounds.”

You couldn’t help but crack a small smile at Wooyoung’s words, the neutral mask finally breaking. He felt accomplished as he held your hand once again, running his thumb over the back as you nodded and kissed his cheek, your voice now regaining some of its playfulness.

“C’mon then soldier, let’s tend to those war wounds.”

♕ SFW Taglist !! ♕

@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @like-a-butterfly1026 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @lynnsqueendom @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @starlightracha @deja-vux @itbecina @anpanseok @mingitheii @vilavixg @mrcarrots @the-answer-is-love-yrself @effulgentfireflies @ateezbabysitters @meowmeowminnie @soft-teddybear @reaperhwa @a1sh1teruu @fantasy2wonderland @xuxibelle @dazzlingligth @simeonswhore @neocuddlytechnology @greenymar @owjohny @xye-weirdo @jwnghyuns @plutoneu @m4rsluv @anowamij @minkysmilk @softkpopplace @yeosxxx @k1ayla @jinsfavoritedoll @waezennie

Apply for the taglists here -> ♕

[splatterkink]

Stomach Cramps

Horror. CW: Self-Mutilation, Suicide

It was churning, like clumping spoiled milk was stretching and tearing their stomach open, as though their intestines were snaking around themselves, squeezing their stomach until it ruptured. They were hunched over the kitchen counter, it’d be a relatively peaceful evening if it wasn’t for the immobilising pain they were in. It was spring, there were sweet birds chirping outside, and there was a golden glow in the kitchen from the setting sun. A sickening crack echoed through the room as they dropped to their knees, arms desperately clutching their stomach as if the added pressure would alleviate anything. Everything was spinning, their own desperate groaning, turned almost animalistic through grit teeth, making their head pound. They needed it out. They needed the pressure gone. They didn’t care how. 

Uncurling one arm from their stomach, they reached up to the counter top, hauling themselves upwards so they could see over the edge. Body drenched in sweat and heavy bags under their eyes, they scoured the surface for something they could use to stop the pain. Almost instantly, their eyes landed on the wooden block just inches away from their sink. Scrambling, almost slipping on the shiny tiles beneath them, they reached for a knife. Acting too fast to register their own actions, the knife was forced into their stomach, leaving a deep, gaping trail behind it. After forcing it across their gut, they pulled it out slowly, hands violently trembling. 

The smell was like rotting meat, something foul they’d released from inside themself. The pain was sharp now, like the churning milk had been replaced with hot, burning coals. Something started to slip, unwind from inside their stomach. Fleshy and slimy, their small intestine dragged itself out from the deep wound. 

Their mouth suddenly became wet and bitter, filling with saliva, readying itself to expel the vomit travelling up their throat. What came out was a dark red, almost brown, sticky substance. Their body was finally failing on them. They felt themself tip over, head cracking on the cold tiles, just like their now bruising knees. As their body twitched and jerked uncontrollably, foam pooled out from the side of their mouth. Golden glow slipping away, leaving them to rot in the dark.

[grislyintentions]

|| Suggestive Snippet - Kafka ||

CW: Toxic dynamic (hateship), Unhealthy attachment, Power-play

"For someone so vehemently denying interest, this part of you certainly doesn't act like it." Gloved fingers traced between parted legs, idly caressing through fabric in an unhurried manner. The bindings woven by her endure, tightly wrapped around her target to further immobilise them.

The couch dips further as Kafka proceeds to straddle them by the hips, teasingly running her gloved hands up their chest in open appreciation for her new pet project.

"Don't worry," Lips graze their neck with the barest of touches, each word leaving faint traces of colour upon otherwise unblemished skin. She is deliberate when she smears the remnants of her lipstick upon their pulse point just a little more.

Her teeth catches on the shell of their ear briefly when she continues.

"I'll give you the excuse of being 'under my spell' for wanting me like this. See? I can play nice. Once in a while, that is."

[opalsiren]

if you judge and shame someone for how they manage their chronic pain on all levels except physical i am hitting you with my cane

[lightgamble]

CHARMED | 2.06

Macy, what was he like?

[bunny-rambles]

congrats on 200 followers!! you just got another one!! meeee!! (im going to binge read all your work hehe) 😁😁🥳 may i request 21, angst to fluff with scara?? and could you include the quote “pretty little liar”

also can i be boba tea anon??🧋stay safe!

21 - “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

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characters; Scaramouche, gn reader

cw/tw; Nightmares, surrealism, hurt/comfort, Scara attacks you (but not really), let me know if I missed anything

word count; 1.1k

notes; Hello !! Yes of course you can be added to the anon list, you’ve been there for a while and I hope you’re still hanging around !! Your request has been added, I hope you like it even though it’s been so long since you’ve sent this in. As always, going through my writers block so I’m sorry if it’s not that great

Please reblog if you like this!!

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The heavy doors slammed shut as you were thrown to the ground, the guards behind you laughing as you let out a quiet groan. Your head raised slowly to face the back of your now-ex lover, your breath catching in your throat.

“Scara, I never-“

He raises his hand in warning, and you fall silent. He motions for the troops behind you to leave, and when the door closes again, the two of you were the only people left inside the room.

“I trusted you.” His voice is quiet, his words blunt.

“And you can still trust m-“

“Stop lying to me!” He whips around to face you, the tips of his fingers crackling with violet electricity, matching his iridescent eyes. “When were you going to tell me you betrayed the Fatui?!”

The world shifted around you as you took a step back, small cracks forming behind the man you loved. Dark purple outlined his figure, sparks flying almost uncontrollably out of his hand. You had never seen him so… You couldn’t quite name it. He was angry, yes, but there was something much more. Your eyes moved up to his face - only then did you catch the glimpse of a lone tear sliding down his cheek, dripping down the edge of his jaw and landing on the floor.

Ah. Hurt. That’s what he was feeling. Betrayed and abandoned; it had a funny little way of squeezing its way in his life.

You wanted to reach your arms out, hold him close, comfort him like you’ve done countless times. Unfortunately, you were the cause of this. Well, you would’ve been if the rumour he heard had been true. No, you didn’t agree with the Fatui, or the Tsaritsa for that matter, but you would never think of betraying Scaramouche. Not for one second. “Please just listen to me! Don’t you trust me?!”

You heard a quiet scoff, and that was all the warning he gave you before his catalyst rose in the air.

At first, you were too in shock to realise you had been struck by his merciless lightning. Then, the searing pain that started in your chest and made its way slithering through the veins in the rest of your body. You couldn’t move. Even though you desperately tried to cry out, verbalise your pain, you were immobilised. All that you could manage was a weak, warbling mumble of his name. The sound of his thunderous footsteps followed next, too slow for your liking. He was taking his time, or more so, stalling what was about to come - perhaps out of some scraps of love left for you.

“Pretty little liar, but a liar nonetheless. Clearly, some things just weren’t meant to be, like you…”His hand raised once again, casting a shadow over your helpless figure on the ground.

“And me.”

Frantic screaming echoed through the room as it fragmented, dissipating into nothing, and the next time you opened your eyes, Scaramouche was still looming over you. Wait… Something’s different. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was moving, but there was nothing coming out. Confused, you tilted your head at him and your lips moved to mouth his name. When your eyes began to focus, your vision blurred by tears, everything began to make sense.

There was no purple glow anymore, no catalyst by his side, no harbinger number six. It was just your Scara, panic painted on his face even though he tried to conceal it.

“What… What happened?” Your words slurred when you attempted to speak, confirming your theory further.

“I don’t know, you tell me. You were the one who started screaming out of nowhere, dumbass.” Scara’s voice held none of its usual bite to it, his soft voice laced thick with sleep as he slowly moved away from where he was looking down at you.

A nightmare.

“Sorry…” You saw him shake his head as you began to prop yourself up on your trembling arms, only for them to slip from underneath you. His hands caught you before you could back on the bed, helping you sit up properly. Before you could apologise again for waking him up, he pulled you to lean against his chest, one of his hands stiffly moving up and down your back. Even in the state you were in now, you couldn’t help the upward curl of your lip at the small action. The harbinger wasn’t the best at comfort, and you could tell he was only copying you when you comforted him with his own nightmares, but he was still trying - for you.

“What happened?” He asked after a moment, his hand moving more fluidly against your back once he found a rhythm he was satisfied with.

When you blinked, flashes of vibrant purple eyes staring down at you plagued your memories, and you shook your head to rid yourself of them. From your silence, and the tears beginning to stream down your face, he could tell this was no ordinary run-of-the-mill dream about a fantastical scenario.

“… You don’t have to-“

“It was about you.” The two of you spoke at the same time, and both of you stared back at the other with owlish expressions. Your partner nodded at you to continue, and you took a deep breath to compose yourself.

“I’m not too sure about the details. But you thought I’d betrayed the fatui. And…” You let out a shaky breath, trying to push yourself through. “You… You…”

“Enough.” His voice silenced you, making you look in his direction.

“… Betray the Fatui all you want. Hell, join the traveller for all I care,” He scoffed, raising a hand to carefully wipe away your tears. “But I would never hurt you. I promise.”

“You wouldn’t?” You whimpered quietly, and the sound broke his non-existent heart.

“Never. I don’t care what side you’re on, nothing could make me do that.”

You heaved a heavy sigh of relief and slumped against the man you loved, snuggling your head against his shoulder. “Okay…” Hesitantly, he pressed his lips against the crown of your head and slid his arm around your shoulders, holding you closer.

Eventually, he noticed that your breathing had softened and evened out, bringing him to the conclusion that you had fallen asleep. The puppet drew you in closer, a rare smile spreading across his lips. No. Nothing in the universe could ever make him think of putting you in harm's way. Not the fatui, not the gods… Not Celestia itself. He’d rather die than let anything happen to you. And as he pressed his lips against your forehead before laying you back down, he hoped it would never have to come to that.

You and him, this was something that was meant to be.