#d's list of sins

[rubystatic]

Asking For Trouble

I wasn't sure what to write for my first post here. I haven't written for Hazbin Hotel before, but I figured what better introduction to the fandom than a literal introduction between Alastor and the reader? I've had this scene rattling around in my head for a few weeks, so I hope you enjoy it.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Contents: demonic summoning, Alastor being an eldritch horror, hints of gore, blood, minor self-injury (not sh)

The red paint glistens like fresh blood in the light of the candles. A dozen or more of them, scattered around your living room, resting atop the coffee table, the TV stand, melted onto the top of the bookcase and the windowsill. Thick, black candles you bought from the Halloween clearance sale at the local big box store. You don’t think colour matters, but it felt right for the occasion. If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right. 

A clear space dominates the centre of the room—all the furniture has been pushed aside, crowding up against the walls to make room. You’ve rolled up the living room rug and propped it against the stairs. 

When you first moved into your basement apartment, you were dismayed to discover that it had a poured concrete floor, and that the landlord hadn’t bothered to put in carpet or laminate or even cheap lino. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the rent price was such a steal, you didn’t dare question him on it in case he decided he wanted a less whiny tenant. 

You have reason to be grateful for it now, though. A red pentagram painted on a wooden floor or carpet would be a quick way to make sure you never got back your security deposit. A bit of turpentine and it’ll be like this never happened. 

Assuming that you’re still alive. If this even works.

The thing that started it all, a simple black notebook—some Moleskine rip-off—sits open at the edge of your circle, along with a whole mess of measuring implements. A simple protractor wasn’t good enough for something like this. You’d had to buy some stuff off the internet, and now your Amazon recommendations looked like a geometry professor’s wet dream. 

And there I was, thinking 10th grade math would never get me anywhere in the real world. 

You pick up the notebook, glancing between the scrawled diagrams and measurements and your own summoning circle. It looks right. It had better be, since you spent all afternoon hunched over, painting it with dollar store acrylic paints. Oh, and your life depends on it. Can’t forget that much. 

The notebook is a journal of sorts. You found it behind the bookcase when you first moved in, wedged there and forgotten. The pages are covered in the feverish scrawl of a previous resident. At first you felt a little weird about reading it, but curiosity overcame any moral quandary you had in the end. 

The journal outlines the three month period it took for a young writer to seemingly descend into madness as his work was rejected, over and over. As his girlfriend left him, his father died, and his life fell to pieces. He became more and more desperate, his writing growing erratic. His writing research had already led him down some occult paths, but it seemed he’d decided to pursue them even further.

Which was you’ve come to be kneeling on your living room floor, trying to summon a demon.

Taking a deep breath, you flip to the last page, where the invocation is written, the pen almost tearing through the paper in some places. It’s the last entry. 

You reach out, and use your fingertips to push a plate of venison over the boundary line, into the centre of the pentagram. The meat is a dark, pinkish red, practically pulsing with blood and vitality, as the journal instructs. 

Getting it necessitated a trip outside city limits to a questionable butcher in the countryside who specialised in game meat. The journal is very clear—it has to be fresh. Supermarket meat won’t cut it.

Everything is in place. There’s nothing left to do but begin.

You take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you lift the journal, holding it open. You have a strange feeling of duality, that you’re both at once powerful and ridiculous. Someone tearing open the veil between worlds to seek higher (or lower) power, and someone playing pretend. 

You force yourself to ignore the latter, pushing it aside and holding onto the image that what you’re doing is going to work. Faith is important, even if it isn’t invested wisely. 

“Let—”

Oh, shit, you’ve forgotten a step. 

Dropping the journal in your haste, you reach for the small pen knife lying at the edge of the circle. Gritting your teeth, you tighten your grip on the wooden handle, and make a small cut on the side of your thumb. Holding your fist out over the circle, you let a few beads of blood, looking almost black in the candle light, splatter the venison. 

You open a bandaid and slap it over the cut, pleased you haven’t completely sliced your palm open like they do in movies. Don’t they know how long that takes to heal? 

Anyway, back to the demon summoning. 

“Let this offering of flesh and blood open the veil between the earthly realm and the depths of Hell,” you read aloud, your voice becoming stronger with every word.

No wonder that writer guy couldn’t get his shit published if this is how he wrote everything. Despite the stilted prose, you keep reciting it aloud, just glad it’s not in Latin, or worse, rhyming. 

“I summon you, o’ Deal Maker, Keeper of Bargains, Purchaser of Souls—” 

Seriously? Writer of Bullshit, more like. 

“I summon you, Alastor!” 

You hold your breath as the last echoes of your voice fade from the walls, waiting for something to happen. The candles continue to flicker gently, and you can hear the muted hubbub of voices from your neighbour’s TV upstairs. Your knees are starting to hurt from sitting on the floor. 

Sighing, you let the journal drop to the floor. It hasn’t worked. Of course.

Why did you think this was going to work? Summoning a demon of all things—

The candles ripple as if stirred by a breath, then their flames spike upwards, rigid. The light throws shadows across the walls, but the shadows don’t move in the right way. They sway back and forth, almost in a trance, as if the room is tilting side to side. 

The candle flames stretch up and up, thinning out into streamers. The golden glow dims, before blooming a bright, venal red. Your ears fill with the sound of static as the painted lines of the summoning circle begin to glow crimson. Smoke boils up from the centre into a plume of pulsing fog, backlit by the red light and twitching shadows. 

Something very old, buried and half-forgotten in your DNA screams at you to run, but you’re frozen to the spot, gaping as a figure takes form within the smoke. A tall, thin silhouette, long limbs distorted. Ice seeps into your gut.

The smoke clears, leaving an apparition, a demon, in your living room. It is not the monster you expected. No red skin, no black pits for eyes, no fire and brimstone… But whatever he is, he’s definitely not human. 

Stretching from floor to ceiling, he must be seven feet tall or more, with a thin, attenuated form and an inhumanly narrow waist. The demon is a vision in red, from his hair to his suit to his eyes, red on red, his pupils black slits in a sea of glowing crimson. 

It’s his smile that truly terrifies you, though. 

His teeth gleaming, the colour of aged ivory. Two rows of sharp, dagger-like points, ready to sink into flesh, designed to rend and tear. Whatever this creature is, death sustains him. 

Red hair, tipped in black, frames his face in a short bob, and tufts up at the top in what you think might be ears. Two small, black antlers jut from the top of his head. 

The static in  your ears crescendos like a wave crashing over your head, and the demon’s smile widens. He hums to himself, his voice a crackle, and looks around your meagre apartment. Finally, his gaze comes to rest back on you, the most interesting thing here.

“My, my,” he says, a strange, Transatlantic twang to his voice, “it’s been a while since someone summoned me. You really know how to set the mood, don’t you? Summoning circle, candles, and what’s this?” 

He leans down to pick up the plate of venison. Your blood has seeped into the meat by now, indistinguishable from the dead deer’s blood. The demon uses his gloved hand to pick up a morsel of the meat, his red eyes widening in pleasure, before popping it into his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre. 

“Delicious,” he praises. “Not a bit of fat on it, either. How did you know venison is my favourite?”

Before you can answer, his gaze lights upon the abandoned journal. He lets out a chuckle that’s half radio static. 

“Oh, that old thing. I should have known!” He slaps his knee in an over-the-top display of amusement. “You’re all so eager to throw yourselves into the Abyss! Humans, lemmings, what’s the difference?!”

The demon pretended to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye, before finally paying attention to you again. His grin cranked up a notch, practically splitting his face in half, and his hooded red eyes gleamed at you. 

“I haven’t introduced myself. How remiss of me. The name’s Alastor. A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

The static in his voice fuzzed out, leaving behind a raspy baritone.

“Now, what can I do for you, darling?”

[chibishortdeath]

Hello chibishortdeath! I hope you don’t mind me sending an anime recommendation. This anime sorta reminds me of Simon’s Quest and so I thought you might enjoy it (and it makes me fantasize of what an animated Simon’s Quest might be like). It’s Dororo (2019) and the whole series is available on YouTube. It’s basically got a protagonist suffering from a curse that has to travel to defeat monsters and “gather” body parts. But unlike Simon’s Quest, the protagonist is followed by a kid, so that might not be to your liking. But I just can’t recommend it enough! It does get really violent and gory though, so here’s a warning.

Oooo, I looked it up and it sounds really cool!!! :O I’ll have to check it out, I think some of my family members might like seeing it too tbh. As much of a legend in manga as Osamu Tezuka is, I’m surprisingly not very familiar with most of his work. I saw a couple episodes of Astro Boy and one of the movie adaptations when I was younger, but that’s about it. So it’ll be cool to actually get into something of his!!! Thanks for the recommendation, I really appreciate it :3!!!!!!!!

[fieriframes]

[But it don't make no difference, now. And no-one's listening, anyhow. And lists of sins and solemn vows. Don't make you any friends.]

[gukcnt]

03 | SHADOWS OF OBSESSION ⭒ JJK

a criminal's obsession with a shy medical student starts a passionate mix of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets get exposed and possession turns into love. In a world filled with betrayal and the weight of their own pasts, can they find a way to survive together? or will their twisted bond ultimately destroy them both?

pairing — criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader

genre — criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, lots of angst, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, angry!jungkook, posessive!jungkook, toxic!jungkook, emotional vulnerability, isolation and loneliness, intrusion and stalking, romantic gestures, violence and gore, fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, d/s dynamics, argument, crying and cursing, crying from pleasure, rough oral sex, multiple orgasms, aggressive and forceful consensual sexual acts, hair pulling and fisting, making out, marking and bruising, pain play, breast play, nipple sucking and biting, overestimation, sensory overload, pushing physical boundaries, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, she rides his fingers, solo masturbation, orgasm denial/control, jungkook watches reader masturbate, masturbation using a rose, intense clit play, body worship, dirty talk, slight degradation, praise kink, cum eating, absence of aftercare

wc — 11.7k

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

It was nighttime, Jungkook stood in the middle of the street, broad shoulders hunched, as always, his black leather jacket hugging his frame. The fabric was slick with sweat and a fresh splatter of blood from his latest victim, and it was soaking through his fabric, staining him with the weight of his sinful actions.

His knuckles were split open, the skin coated with blood—some his, most not. Beneath his boots, a man lay, his face pulped bloody flesh and shattered bones, unrecognizable as a human.

The man's chest no longer moved, his life taken away by Jungkook with his knife and anger. The air was thick with the smell of blood, a cigarette between his lips.

He exhaled as dark eyes stared down at the dead body, but he felt nothing—no remorse, no mercy, only more of the rage that was clawing at his insides.

It had been seven days since he’d left you, since he’d tasted the sweetness of your pussy and felt your thighs tremble under his tongue. Heard the desperate, broken moans that spilled from your lips as he consumed your innocence.

Seven days since he’d knelt for you, something he never does for anyone, not even in the brink of death, but he did for you, his fragile petal.

Your purity weakened all his defenses.

He’d promised himself that he’d stay away, he’d let you live your soft, risk-free life untouched by the danger of his existence. But that promise felt like a lie that was making him suffer with the agony of your absence.

He was going completely feral, like a monster, his violence increasing to a limit that he himself couldn’t control.

In a single week, he’d killed three men—three lives taken from his fists alone, sometimes blades, and each death was more wild and severe than the last.

He didn’t kill for pleasure, he killed because he hated how tainted the world is, because his hands constantly itched to destroy something, and mainly because every moment away from you was driving him closer to madness.

“Fuck you,” he snarled at the corpse, voice guttural, “fuck all of you!”

His words were directed to no one, only something to fill his void. He kicked the body so hard it sent a jolt of pain through his leg, and he welcomed it, craved it, because pain was like an old friend to him, kept him grounded to a reality that he was losing.

His chest heaved, breaths ragged. His hands trembled not from fear but from the need to break something else, to tear the world apart until he felt even a small fraction of peace in his soul.

He lit another cigarette, trying to distract himself, jaw clenching. The first drag burned his throat, but the nicotine did nothing to dull the ache in his chest.

He smoked through several packs now, each cigarette was a mark of time spent without you. Sometimes he drank cheap whiskey, expecting it to help him, but it did absolutely nothing to numb his pain.

The nights were the worst when everything grew quiet.

Your face haunted him.

Your wide, innocent eyes glistening with fear and want as your lips trembled, whispering his name.

Your pussy, it was something he can never forget, no matter how much blood he spilled. Your pussy was so tight and wet, clenching around his fingers when he’d pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He groaned, the sound breathy and animalistic, his cock twitching at the memory, body betraying him even as his mind screamed at him to forget.

“Why?” he muttered, voice breaking, the cigarette shook between his fingers. “why can’t I get you out of my head?”

He slammed his fist into the wall, already bloodied knuckles getting even more bruised. The pain was sharp, but it helped to distract his mind, even for a little bit.

He wanted to storm back to your apartment, pin you down and fuck you until you were his, until everything in his world made sense again.

He couldn’t.

You were a flower, so very delicate, your petals soft compared to the harsh reality of him and he’d ruin you until your purity disappeared.

He sank to his knees, the pavement cold and rough, cigarette falling from between his lips and into the pool of blood.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes burning, “you’re fucking killing me and you don’t even know it.”

The words were for you, for the girl who’d undone him with just a single act of kindness, you’d gotten into his soul and refused to leave. He pressed his forehead to the ground; body shaking with his despair and need.

He was a criminal, a killer, a man who’d lived for himself alone.

But you—you were it for him.

And he couldn’t change it no matter how much he tried.

۶ৎ

Early morning light hit you sharply through the bedroom curtains. You woke with a jolt, chest heaving, skin still humming with the memory of Jungkook's hands, his tongue, his presence.

Your room was still filled with the smell of him—cigarettes and musk—and it clung to your skin, even your very breath. The taste of him still clung to your tongue.

Your pussy still pulsed, a slight ache from the way he’d eaten you out, lips and fingers worked together to unravel you until you had shattered for someone for the first time, almost losing consciousness from the intensity of it.

You pressed your thighs together, pussy lips still coated in slick from last night, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the memory of his voice.

“You’re mine.” he growled, eyes burning into yours, stripping you bare with his eyes alone.

You sat up, heart pounding, your fingers clutched the sheets as if they could anchor you to the moment.

You stumbled out of bed. Everything felt wrong, way too quiet, the silence pressing heavily on your chest.

You searched every corner, breath hitching with every step, hoping for a trace of him. No pink roses on your kitchen counter, their sweet scent absent.

He left, just like that.

After last night, after making you feel so alive, he left with no glimpse of him left behind.

No usual cigarette butts around your house, no smoke in the air. The absence was something you had wanted for so long, you wanted him to leave you alone, but now it felt hollow, it twisted at the pit of your stomach.

“jungkook.” you exhaled, as if saying his name could bring him back, no one answered your small plea, a cruel reminder of how he had invaded your life and just left.

You moved to the window and pushed it open, air brushing against your face. You leaned out and looked at the street below.

Wanting to see that familiar shadow, someone with dark eyes, always staring at you from this very window

But there was nothing.

Just the hum of the city going on with their day.

The world moving on without him

۶ৎ

A week went by, each day felt too long, and the usual spark of your days gone. The apartment, often a comfort of your own, now felt far from it, like something was missing.

You’d always been introverted, content in your own space but this was different—this was loneliness.

You’d hated his stalking and feared him, along the intrusion of the gifts he’d leave in your house but now their absence felt like a wound increasing with each day.

Your clothes stayed in their place no matter where you left them, lazily tossed, no panties missing or no clothes displaced as if someone went through them.

Everything was left untouched, your world converting into what it used to be and you hated it.

You walked home after classes, backpack heavy against your shoulders. The university library that you usually loved to be alone in and immerse yourself in studies now only reminded you more of your isolated life and how Jungkook, even for a bit, made you forget about the isolation.

You’d clutch your warm teacup, hoping to feel the goosebumps arise from his stare, the shiver that would go down your spine from the feeling of being watched.

Nothing.

Nothing could drown out the silence in your heart, no matter what you tried.

You’d reach your apartment, keys trembling in your grip, heart racing with a desperate hope. You’d open the door and search frantically everywhere—under the couch, your rooms, behind the curtains—for a rose, a cigarette butt or a note, anything to prove that he hadn’t vanished completely.

But there were no traces of him.

“Damn it, jungkook,” you croaked, “why did you leave me?”

The words felt foolish and dangerous, it felt like a betrayal to the good girl you’d always been.

You wanted to be a doctor, to heal and save the world, yet here you were pining and aching for a criminal, a murderer who’d stalked you… but he’d made you alive in a way that terrified you

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your face.

“I should be happy,” you whimpered, “I should be glad you’re gone, you… you monster!”

But the words felt wrong, a lie you couldn’t believe.

۶ৎ

The nights were the worst for you as well, body relentless constantly. You’d toss in bed, tangling the sheets as your cheeks get flushed with heat.

The memory of that night always consumed your head—his deep, commanding voice talking you through the orgasm, fingers curling inside you, tongue lapping at your sensitive clit until you’d screamed his name.

You’d wake up panting, pussy throbbing and panty soaked with need, as your breasts heaved with pants.

“Stop it.” you’d hiss, angry at your own self.

You’d try to squeeze your legs together trying to dull the ache, but it was of no use; it worsened it, your little nub pulsing away, making you whine shakily.

You’d imagine his hands, calloused and strong, pinning you down, lips claiming yours in that possessive, hungry way like that day, until all you breathed or tasted was him.

His cock—oh god... you’d never seen it, but you imagined it, not being able to help yourself. He’d be thick and heavy, filling you until you broke, taking a part of you that you never thought you’d give to someone, especially a man like him.

You bit your pillow, whimpers muffling in it as your body trembled with a need you hated yourself for experiencing.

In a moment of desperation, you even stopped locking your door. You left your windows open, the night air entering freely in your apartment. You’d stand in your living room looking outside the window.

“Come back, please.” a plea to the darkness that you’d come to crave.

“I’m losing my mind,” you whispered to the empty room, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re a criminal, a murderer, and I... I want you. What's wrong with me?”

The emptiness was getting deeper each day. Your apartment felt like a cage. He’d light up your world in his own twisted way, it scared you but even brought you excitement in a way that nothing can.

You hated yourself for missing the man, for craving that danger he always caused, the thrill, and, most importantly, how he made you feel so seen and wanted in a way no one ever had.

But the truth was undeniable: without him you felt like you were fading.

۶ৎ

It has been several days since he promised himself that he’d stay away, that he’d let you, his petal, live free off his presence.

But it was enough.

He needed to see you, even from a distance, to ground himself to something real, something pure. He tried to resist it, tried stopping himself a lot, but nothing worked, so he convinced himself that one glance was all he wanted from you, not knowing exactly how wrong he was.

He started walking, hands bloody from a kill but with his intention straight.

Your neighborhood was a big difference compared to his own tainted world.

He reached your apartment, and slipped into the darkness in the street, his back against a tree.

He lit another cigarette, jaw clenching. The smoke filled his lungs, a harsh comfort, as he watched your window. He could see the slight glow of your desk lamp from where he stood.

There you were.

Seated at your study table, you are surrounded by several of your textbooks and notes. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, plump pink lips slightly parted as you read, a detail that made his chest ache with a longing he didn’t understand.

Your hair was loose, a few strands falling on your face. You wore a baby tee, light blue as it clings to your curve; it also outlines the swell of your breasts, the hard peaks of your nipples visible even from this distance.

His cock twitched as a growl rumbled in his throat, fingers tightening around the cigarette.

You were so small, so delicate, a doll-like girl in a world of monsters, and he was the worst of them all, hunger for you twisting in his gut.

But you weren’t studying.

Your pen lay still, your eyes looking into nowhere as you stared at nothing, fingers gripping your notebook, like it was your lifeline. Your distress hit him like a punch in his stomach.

He saw it then—the loneliness and the sadness etched in your features, a reflection of the pain that he himself was going through.

You were missing him, craving him, the man who’d haunted you yet claimed you with his touch.

The realization was like a spark fueling his obsession for you even more, along with his anger and need.

He wanted to storm inside your apartment, pin you in that very desk, get you on all fours for him, fuck you from behind until you screamed his name, until your innocence was his forever.

But he stayed where he stood, reveling in the pain and agony of being away from you.

He moved closer, silently. Once he reached near your apartment, he started climbing the fire escape, his movements slow but quick until he was level with your window, the glass slightly open, letting him smell you from your bedroom.

He crouched slightly, looking at you, breaths shallow.

You stood from your study table in frustration, oblivious to the predator watching you, and walked to your bed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, fingers clutching your tee, a habit to keep you in the right state of mind.

The fabric rode up, exposing the soft skin of your waist, and his jaw tightened, teeth grinding.

Your breasts were hardly contained in the tee, they were almost calling for him, begging for his mouth, his hands, or his teeth.

He imagined tearing that sorry excuse of a fabric, wanting to see those tits bounce as they get freed in the air, he imagined your cheeks pinking at the shame, but he knew exactly how much you would want it.

He would lean down and suck your peaks until you sobbed like that night, body arching under him, pussy dripping for him.

You gripped the edge of the blanket, the sight of you was so vulnerable, so his. He saw the way your chest rose and fell, your bottom lip quivering as if on the verge of tears.

“jungkook.” you whispered into the room that you assumed was empty, used to calling his name at least once a day. Your soft voice barely audible, but it reached him, and it was like a knife to his heart.

You were calling for him, body and heart aching for the man who’d ruined you, and it was too much, breaking all his restraints.

He couldn’t stay away.

He slipped through the window as he intruded on your space once again. He looked around your bedroom, a softness that he has missed a lot.

It was a world he didn’t belong in, yet he couldn’t leave.

You were asleep now, body curled on the bed, the baby tee now fully bunched up, revealing your smooth stomach. Your chest rose and fell, breasts a temptation he couldn’t resist, nipples hard from the cool night air.

Your face expressed your longing even in sleep, a frown in your brows, your lips parted in a soft, needy sigh the same way they’d parted when he’d eaten you out and made you come with his tongue.

He stood over you, shadow falling over your form, his hands still bloody from his last kill, as usual.

“You’re killing me, petal,” he rasped, voice low. “I’m trying to stay away, but you’re in my fucking head.”

He reached out with trembling fingers and brushed a strand of hair from your face, which led him to leave a smudge of blood on your cheek—his claim along with his intention to ruin you.

The sight of it, red against your skin, was a twisted kind of beauty that made his heart thunder with need, cock throbbing, a reminder of how much of a monster he is, that he could never be what you needed him to be.

He placed a pink rose beside you. It was a mark of his obsession along with his apology for being away for so long.

“You don’t get to miss me.” he grunted, eyes dark with something he refused to acknowledge, “You don’t get to make me feel like this.”

He leaned closer, lips hovering over yours, his breath hitting your skin. He wanted to kiss you, to taste you again, to fuck you until he is sated and you can never escape his possession.

But he pulled back, hands fisting as the blood dripped down his knuckles.

He turned around slowly, not wanting to stay any longer, otherwise he would cross a line he would regret later.

He left as silently as he’d come, stepping outside. But the image of you—lonely, sad, calling for him—will forever be in his heart, killing him slowly.

You were his addiction, and he cannot let you go.

۶ৎ

You woke up the next morning with a racing heart, skin prickling with an unshakable feeling. The air felt different, like something was here in your bedroom—or someone.

Your heart pounded wildly as your eyes darted all over the room trying to search. The familiarity of your home was tainted by an unknown presence, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel it.

Then you saw it—a single pink rose, resting on the pillow beside you almost like a lover lying beside you.

Your breath caught, a gasp slipped from between your lips that was half joy and half dread. Your fingers hovered over the flower, shaking, with the thought of what it meant after his absence for so long.

He’d been here.

Jungkook.

The man who’d haunted your dreams, your body, and your soul, was finally here.

You reached for the rose, the petals cool against your fingertips, sending a shiver down your spine. You brought the rose close to your nose and inhaled; the scent was sweet, but still a small lingering smell of him—of danger.

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, you bit your lower lip, heart filled with hope that he hadn’t abandoned you entirely.

But the joy wasn’t long-lasting as your eyes fell to the mirror. There on your cheek was a smear of blood, your eyes widened, tears welling in your eyes from fear, a gasp escaping.

He was a murderer, a monster, and his deed was there, marked on your face, yet beneath the terror, a sick, shameful excitement was there, even though the fear was very much evident.

No one has ever seen you the way he did, has never claimed you with such ferocity, and you hated yourself for the way your body warmed at the thought of his darkness.

For the way your pussy clenched, already aching for a man you should fear, and you were scared, so very scared of your own feelings, surprised at how he excited you.

By afternoon, you were feeling restless with an energy you didn’t know how to name.

You sat on your bed, the flower in your hand. Its petals felt soft as you traced them, almost sinful with the way it caressed your skin, your breath hitching.

The ache in your pussy returned, a throb that had been there since that night, since his tongue had made you come hard, and his fingers claimed all your intimate parts.

It was unbearable now; your heat demanded release, needed him, and you couldn’t fight it or ignore it anymore.

You didn’t want to.

Your hands moved on instinct, peeling off your clothes with a trembling urgency until you were fully bare except for your bra, the lace hugging your full breasts, nipples hard as the lace teased them, making you mewl.

The cool air kissed your exposed skin, raising goosebumps all over your body and you spread your legs, bare pussy glistening with need. The air brushing against your swollen heat made you gasp, lips parting.

You settled against the pillows, and you kept your legs spread. Your fingers found the clit, circling it slowly in a teasing way.

“Oh gosh… mm yes…”

A gasp escaped you needily, hips bucking on your fingers. “jungkook.” you whimpered, his name escaping your lips.

Your voice, a soft plea in the quiet room. Pussy was soaked, arousal dripping on the sheets as your fingers explored your cunt, coating yourself with your own arousal, you slipped one finger inside, walls sucking the finger in greedily.

“Ah!” You moaned at the penetration, shocked at how wet you were, how easily your finger moved, and how your body craved more and more.

You panted as your eyes suddenly fell on the rose, its pink petals calling for you almost like it could sense your own desperation. You grabbed the rose with trembling fingers.

You brought it to your neck and dragged it downward slowly, almost like someone's caress you imagined, that belonged to him. The petals brushed your collarbone, making you bite your lower lip.

It went between your breasts, your breasts heaving.

“Oh mhmm hah.” you let out needy noises as the petals teased your restrained nipples, the lace intensifying the sensation a lot more.

Your nipples ached for touch, for his mouth, or anything from him.

The rose continued its path downwards until it reached the tops of your thighs. You huffed, spreading your legs wider, your pussy exposed, the scent of your arousal evident.

You pressed the rose to your pulsing clit, the petals soft and cool, and the sensation tore a cry from your throat instantly, “jungkook, fuck, please!” you sobbed.

Your hips rocked, fingers thrusting deeper inside your pussy, the wet sounds and your needy noises and breathlessness the only sounds in the quiet room. The rose only felt like an additional torment.

You moved the rose in slow circles, the petals catching your clit, stroking it, stimulating it in a way that made you tremble, your moans high and frantic.

Your breasts bounced with each rock of your hips, nipples ached, and you slid a second finger inside, stretching yourself and letting out a muffled whine. Your arousal was now pooling on the sheets beneath you, making a big mess, but you were too much in ecstasy to care.

The stretch barely anything compared to that night when he used his fingers on you.

The petals were now slick with your arousal, gliding over your clit in a way that made you see stars. You imagined him—his dark eyes, his calloused fingers, and his tongue—and the thought pushed you closer to your release.

“I need you, please.” you cried shakily, thighs shaking as you thrusted your fingers faster and harder, the rose pressing against your clit.

You curled your fingers, and that was it. Your pussy clenched, entire body convulsed, and then it hit—the release so intense that it was almost painful, cum gushing over your fingers and the bed, coating the rose entirely.

You screamed his name, body almost arching off the bed, breasts heaving and you collapsed on the bed panting, pussy pulsing with aftershocks, your skin was slick with sweat.

The rose fell from your hand in humiliation, completely coated in your release, and you looked at it with dilated eyes, chest still heaving as you whimpered at your own shamefulness and how your need took over you in such a nasty way.

Jungkook watched the whole thing from the shadows, his cigarette forgotten as it burned in his hand, but the pain didn’t do anything to dull the agony of seeing you like this.

His cock was painfully hard, straining against his jeans, chest was tight with a rage that wasn’t anger but something deeper, something primal.

You were his fragile innocent girl, and yet here you were fucking yourself with the rose he had given you, moaning his name, your body a meal for him that he couldn’t consume, and it drove him angrier.

His eyes were locked on you, taking in every single detail—the way your pussy glistened, cum dripping, breasts bouncing and restrained by your lace bra, those nipples just begging to be freed and sucked on.

Your moans and cries were breaking his restraint; each whimper of his name from you was pulling him even closer.

He didn’t flinch at the burn on his hand from the cigarette as the ash fell on the floor. His jaw clenched, breath ragged.

He was angry—at you, for being so reckless and naughty, and at himself for letting you in his life and trapping him, also for breaking his promise to stay away from you.

Your climax hit him straight to his gut, the scream of his name made his nostrils flare. He wanted to go inside and punish you so hard, wreck that slutty cunt of yours, until you forget everything except him.

But he couldn’t, so he stayed, his hands fisted, cock throbbing.

“You’re killing me.” he husked out in the darkness, the words to no one but himself as he watched you collapse, body trembling as he watched your pussy drip with cum, and he gripped the window, wanting to break the glass with his fist.

He knew he lost, and he was involved with you in a way that would destroy both of you.

You lay there, breaths slowing, oblivious to the man outside watching you, body still trembled with the aftereffects of the pleasure. You didn’t know he was there, didn’t know his eyes had seen every moment, but you felt the weight of something, someone’s stare.

A predator watching his prey.

And somewhere deep inside you, you hoped he’d seen it all and that he’d come for you, hoped that he’d ruin you as thoroughly as you’d just ruined yourself.

Ruined your innocence.

۶ৎ

The days went by after that, each one marking Jungkook's absence. Yet you knew that his shadow lingered, stalking you all the time, felt the heat of his stare constantly, a presence you couldn’t see.

Jungkook, the criminal who’d come into your life like a storm, had vowed to stay away from you, but his obsession refused to die.

He watched you always and everywhere, his existence a secret into the night.

The air no longer carried his scent of cigarettes and musk, but his gifts began to appear, small things left for you in your absence, and each felt like a spark in your hollow heart.

You’d return from classes as always, your heart pounding with anticipation, hoping for a sign of him, hoping for him to intrude into your home show himself like that night, any glimpse of his darkness, but instead you found gifts.

All of the gifts were intimate, personal things you have always wished for but never had the ability to get or buy, and it almost feels like he’d peeled back the layers of your soul and seen you bare to know all your favorites without you telling him anything.

One evening you came home after studying in the library, fingers aching from hours of notetaking. You opened your door and gasped, your eyes fell on the kitchen table.

A small tub of chocolate ice cream—rare, expensive, the one that you’d randomly written on your bucket list, and you’d tucked it inside a notebook you barely opened and forgotten about it.

Your bucket list was just small dreams of you that you thought would never come true because you could never afford it, but he found it.

Without waiting further, you slowly walked forward and lifted the lid. The rich smell of chocolate made your head spin. Your heart raced, cheeks warming with a smile.

He was here again.

You bit your lower lip bashfully and whispered a shy “thank you” in the empty air, hoping that he is somewhere near enough to hear you.

The ice cream melted on your tongue, each bite reminding you of his absence, and you savored the treat slowly, chest heavy with a longing.

Another day, you found a book on your doorstep—a first edition copy of your favorite book, a novel you’d mentioned randomly to one of your friends during a study session as you expressed your love for the raw romance the characters go through in the book.

The weight of the book grounded you as you whimpered, hugging the book to your chest, you imagined a faint smell of him clinging to the book, you knew wasn’t there.

“How do you know me like this?” your voice cracked, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The book felt like a mirror of your story, and you wondered if he saw himself in the main character's place with his devotion towards you.

The gifts kept coming, increasing each day. A delicate silver bracelet that you wore at all times, never taking it off, engraved with a tiny petal—like the nickname he’d given you.

Another time he left a box of your favorite folded chips, an entire set, the kind that’s very rare to find and you had to hunt for them in every store.

You noticed that you would usually receive such items when you’d have long study sessions and forgot to eat, almost like it angered him whenever you starved yourself, so he made sure to stuff your kitchen with food.

He also gave you a jasmine scented candle you’d once admired in a shop window unknowingly, there was also a note with it that made you light up with joy, you were getting a bit of his interaction.

The note was simple, handwriting sharp just like him: for you.

That’s all it said, just two words, no explanation, no name, yet it was enough to send a shiver down your spine: those words enough to show his possession.

Your stomach fluttered, thighs clenching unknowingly.

You’d sit on your couch, the bracelet on your wrist, his candle lit, the smell of jasmine filling the room as you are busy reading the book and felt him everywhere with his gifts—he took over your place without his actual presence.

Your heart ached, a constant beat in your pussy, tingling with the memory of his tongue and fingers from that night.

You hated yourself for wanting more than just his gifts, for craving him more than anything.

۶ৎ

One night you found a pink teddy bear on your bed, its fur soft and fluffy, it was huge, nearly as tall as you. You froze, heart hammering as you sank down on the bed and clutched the bear, arms circling it.

Tears spilled down your cheeks instantly, soaking into the fur of the teddy, you buried your face in it as you hiccupped; the softness of it made your heart ache even more.

“Why do you do this to me?” you choked out, voice pained.

“You’re gone, but you’re everywhere, and I hate you for it. I hate how much I want you.”

The bear is the only one that hears your words as you curl into it, wrapping your legs around it, dimming your loneliness, your tears continue soaking the pink fur.

“I’m supposed to be free of you,” you cried, “but I’m not. I'm trapped, and it's your fault. You made me need you... you bastard.”

Your tears soon lulled you to sleep, body tired.

Jungkook watched from the shadows, your tears slicing through his guarded heart, your pain made him ache even more. He wanted to get inside, wipe those tears away, kiss them away, his tongue would claim each of your tears until even your sadness belonged to him.

He wanted to own every corner of your soul.

“Little petal,” he whispered. “I’m trying to let you go, but you’re making it fucking impossible, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”

۶ৎ

It was midnight, and you were asleep, body curled against the teddy, your body clad in a black t-shirt as it clung to your curves, the hem riding up to reveal your plump thighs.

Your chest rose and fell, breaths quiet, unaware of what is about to happen.

A faint rustle broke the silence, and Jungkook stepped inside your room, his presence enough to shatter the calmness of your apartment in an instant.

His gaze fell on your sleeping figure, pinning you to bed. His eyes traced every inch of you—the curve of your hips, your nipples hard against the fabric and especially the way your lips parted in sleep.

His jaw clenched, hands twitching to touch you, but he held himself back.

You stirred, eyes fluttering, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt the air shift in your room with an unknown yet familiar smell of cigarettes and something darker.

Your eyes opened half-lidded at first, then your eyes widened as they met his. The shock was a jolt through your body; your breath caught in your throat.

Fear instantly pressed on your chest, but beneath it there was that twisted happiness, longing finally satiated since he’d left you.

He stood there, no longer only his shadow but in full form, his beauty both deadly and so deeply handsome, he looked down at you, lips in a straight line.

“Do you trust me?” he asked lowly, eyes searched yours, demanding an answer, daring you to lie.

You didn’t speak, couldn’t. Your heart was screaming a desperate cry of yes, but your mind was saying otherwise, it was telling you to run, to scream, to save yourself from this monster of a man.

Your lips trembled, hands clutching the blankets around your body, trying to shield yourself from his intensity.

You sat up, t-shirt slipping further, exposing your collarbone, and he could see the rapid pulse at your throat, and his gaze lingered there, his stare alone felt like a physical touch, and your cheeks flushed despite your fear.

“jungkook,” you croaked shakily, “what are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer, silence louder than his words. In two long strides he was at your bedside, movements predatory.

Before you could even react or move away, he scooped you up easily in bridal style, like you weighed nothing.

His warmth seeped into your skin, and you gasped loudly, hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, fingers dug into his hoodie, eyes wide as you looked at him, breathing in his scent of blood and cigarettes.

It was overwhelming.

Your body was pressed up against his, breasts against his hard chest, his strong arms on the underside of your bare thighs, holding you, and the intimacy of all of this sent a shiver down your spine.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked, voice shaky with panic. Your wide eyes fixed on his face, demanding answers, but he remained expressionless, jaw tight and eyes fixed ahead as he walked.

He didn’t respond and carried you out of your apartment, the cool night air hitting you, making you curl yourself more into him. Your bare feet dangled, legs exposed with your flimsy t-shirt, and you felt vulnerable.

A small thing in the arms of a beast

The street was completely empty and quiet; he walked towards his motorcycle that was parked.

The bike was matte black, it looked as dangerous and fierce as its owner.

He set you down briefly, his hands lingering on your waist. Your heart pulsed, chest heaving, as you watched him take off his black hoodie, revealing the shirt underneath along with all his tattoos all over his arms that you barely saw before, your breath hitching.

He handed it to you, eyes dark and commanding.

“Put it on.” he growled an order for you that held no chance of argument.

You obeyed, hands shaking slightly as you slipped on the hoodie, you were instantly swallowed by the warmth of his body clinging to the hoodie, and it felt like a claim wrapping your body in his belongings.

It was way too big on you, the sleeves hanging.

His scent completely enveloped you—an intoxicating, strong smell of him, making your head spin.

You pushed up the sleeves, trying to fix the loose hoodie on you and he watched you intensely as if memorizing you in his clothes, and you could see the satisfaction it gave him.

He climbed onto the bike and gestured for you to follow. You hesitated, heart pounding as your mind still screamed at you to run back to the safety of your apartment and not follow him.

But your body moved, drawn to him with no further control. You slowly straddled the bike behind him, gasping softly at the feel of your thighs brushing against his hips.

He reached back with his rough hands, guiding your arms around his waist until your chest was flush against his back, breasts molding to the hard muscles of his back.

You squeaked, feeling embarrassed, his fingers squeezed you, trying to reassure you in his own twisted way.

“Hold tight,” he said, a hint of softness beneath, “don’t let go.”

The bike roared as he started it. He pulled away, the wind hitting your hair and your exposed legs. Your hands tightened on his waist, fingers digging, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric as you held onto him.

The wind carried a sense of freedom, and for the first time in your life, you felt alive, carefree… In a way you couldn’t explain, the weight of your quiet, lonely world lifting off your chest as a small smile curved on your lips.

You pressed your cheek to his back, his scent grounding you. You hummed a soft, happy sound unknowingly, and it surprised you.

The vibration of the bike, the wind hitting your face, his solid warm presence—everything mingled to a moment of peace. You felt his hand cover yours, grip possessive, and your breath hitched, cheeks flushing as you realized he’d heard you hum with joy.

“Where are we going, jungkook?” you asked, loudly over the wind. “Please tell me.” a hint of fear in your voice.

He didn’t answer, but his hand squeezed yours again, an action that meant his silent promise, you were safe, that he would shield you, and for some reason you believed him, believed that he wouldn’t let a single hair of yours bulge.

The bike sped up through the night, and you clung to him, heart racing as you closed your eyes, ready for the unknown along with the danger he always brought.

You didn’t know where he was taking you, but for now you didn’t care.

You were his and he was yours.

And it belonged to you.

You both soon reached a forest; surrounded by huge trees and darkness. The forest heavy with the scent of rain and damp earth that grounded you even as your heart raced with uncertainty, confused at where he is taking you.

Finally, his bike rumbled to a stop, he got off his bike. His presence beside you, broad large shadow covering you completely.

You glanced at him, goosebumps breaking all over your skin, as you looked at his eyes, black pools. “Why are we here?” you asked breathily, a whimper lodged in your throat.

The forest surrounded both of you and seemed unfamiliar and endless, scaring you further.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk at your distress.

“To keep you locked up for me.” he growls, voice dark with amusement.

Your breath hitched and your eyes widened, finding no humor in it, almost believing his words, and he rasped out a chuckle.

“Relax, petal. I’m joking, for now anyways.” he said.

His nonchalant behavior did little to ease your beating heart, but you followed as he led you forward. His hand brushed your elbow; the slight touch felt like electricity.

Dried leaves crunched under your feet as he guided you, and he soon stopped walking, your heart stopped at the sight before you.

A tent stood in the center, glowing in the dark because there were fairy lights all around it, the glow in the dark making it seem absolutely magical, all the fairy lights looked like tiny stars around the tent.

You stepped closer instinctively, your fingers brushed the tent, and a gasp left your lips once again at what was inside the tent.

It was like a dream woven into reality.

A plush blanket was draped over a mattress, it looked so very smooth, and beside it was a small wooden table that held a stack of all your favorite first edition books that you’d loved since childhood. Along with that, there were also dvds of your favorite tv shows, the selective ones.

The snacks—folded potato chips the one he made sure to give you several before and knew exactly how much you liked them, chocolate-covered nuts, only the specific brand you enjoy, along with all those, there was also a bowl of fresh frozen strawberries and raspberries.

Your heart gripped you in an almost painful ache as you pressed one of your hands to your chest, trying to steady your breathing, tears pricking your eyes. It felt like your heart would combust from gratefulness or sadness, you didn’t know.

This wasn’t just a gift, it was a wish from the little girl inside you with no family or anyone by her side, the wish to get everything.

It was written in a diary when you were a little girl that was now tucked away in a storage box.

It was a silly, childish dream where you wished for a night under the stars surrounded by all your favorite things, a fantasy you have accepted will never come true.

Yet it was here, real, crafted by the hands of a man who was both your stalker and your protector.

You turned to Jungkook, finding him standing there looking at you, drinking in all your expressions hungrily, like that’s all that mattered to him.

“jungkook… how did you know? why would you do this?” you croaked, voice barely audible and heavy with emotions.

He leaned at the edge of the tent, expression unreadable as his eyes—those haunted eyes—locked onto yours, searching, yearning, with a mix of anger.

“Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.” he said gruffly, like he was fighting something deep inside him.

“I saw it in your diary. I wanted you to have it. That’s all you need to know.” he finalized.

“But why?” you pressed, stepping closer. “You’re… You’re not this person. You’re dangerous, and you said it yourself, so why give me this? Why make me feel like—”

Your voice broke as tears finally streamed down your cheeks.

“Like I matter to you?”

His jaw clenched at your words, hands fisting at his sides.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

He snapped, voice rising.

“You’re in my fucking head every second, every day. I can't breathe without thinking of you, and it's driving me insane. I don’t do this—fairy lights, complete someone’s dreams. But you… you make me want to burn the world down just to see you smile, and I hate it. I hate you for it.”

His words caused your throat to tighten, stomach fluttering with something you couldn’t name, heart aching as you shakily wiped your tears away and didn’t press him further.

You stepped into the tent, walking slowly to the books, fingers trailing over the books.

“I don’t understand you,” you whispered softly, “but this… this is beautiful. Thank you.”

He didn’t respond, just simply watched you, eyes softening just a bit as if he didn’t want your gratefulness but just your happiness in this moment, with all the things he gave so much effort in. He just wanted you to be yourself now.

You sank onto the blanket, the softness comforting you as you opened a bag of chips and grabbed a dvd of your chosen show, the screen turning on.

The sound of the show playing filled the tent as you nibbled on a strawberry, its juice staining your lips red. Jungkook, settled beside you.

His long legs stretched out, large frame barely contained itself beside you, his body almost too close to you, not exactly touching, but the graze here and there made your stomach clench, the entire moment felt intimate, like you both were a couple, but you shook it off your mind, not wanting to ruin what you were experiencing.

You just wanted to enjoy your time here without overthinking.

“You’re eating,” he said, voice almost gentle, eyes fixed on your lips and the way they glistened with strawberry juice. “Good. You don’t eat enough.”

Your cheeks pinked under his gaze, “I eat plenty,” you muttered, shyly popping another chip into your mouth.

“You’re just… always watching me, so you notice everything.” you huffed, not meeting his eyes.

He smirked, a rare genuine curve of his lips.

“Can’t help it.” he said.

He leaned back, one hand behind his head, muscles flexing under his clothing.

“You’re too fucking distracting.”

You giggled nervously and the tension between you two eased.

You spent hours in that tent, watching shows and eating snacks. You also read passages from a book aloud because Jungkook wanted it and you couldn’t deny him.

Your voice was soft as the words felt like they belonged to this exact moment, and Jungkook listened intently, his eyes never leaving you and you squirmed under his intensity but had no choice but to continue.

His expression was a mix of awe and hunger as he watched you, the sweet girl, enjoy such little things in life, so different from his criminal life, he thought.

His eyes were fixed on your lips as they moved, pronouncing each word. He wanted to kiss you, his jaw ached from self control, wanting you to have your own moment today without him pushing past boundaries, so he held himself back.

He knew that if he pushed you back in this very blanket, you wouldn't resist and give yourself to him, but you deserved better, so he would do anything for that, even if it meant killing himself in the process.

You played several episodes of your favorite shows, sometimes laughing at the familiar scenes, body relaxed against the blanket, you would sometimes lean on him without realizing.

The whole time he didn’t pay any attention to the shows, having his eyes fixed on you, noting all your expressions and movements hungrily, he knew he wouldn't be able get you so close to himself again.

At one point, you offered him a chocolate covered nut, holding it out to him with trembling fingers.

He raised an eyebrow but leaned forward, opening his mouth as he took it, tongue flicking on your skin for a second as he licked the chocolate off your skin.

Your breath hitched, pulse racing and he smirked, chewing the nut, eyes locked on yours.

“Sweet.” he rasped.

A double meaning that made your thighs clench.

You turned back to the screen, cheeks burning.

You were happy, truly happy, the kind of joy that you rarely experienced, and you were scared that the bubble might burst any second, ruining everything.

The forest outside was distant, and the tent was like a warm cocoon that kept you shielded from the world outside and made sure it wouldn’t touch you.

Where Jungkook's darkness softened for the first time from your happiness and your laughter.

The night slowly deepened as your light mood slowly faded; you clutched the blanket heart filling with sadness again. Jungkook stood, towered over you, offering you, his hand.

“Time to go.” he gruffed out, but there was also a reluctance in his eyes, something you couldn’t name.

You took his hand slowly, his calloused hand enveloping your small softer ones, as he pulled you to your feet.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admitted softly, eyes searching his, “this… it feels like a dream that I’ll never have again.”

His expression hardened at your words; thumb brushing your knuckles with a soft tenderness.

“You’ll have more,” he said, his voice a promise for the future.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

۶ৎ

He led you back to the bike. You climbed behind him once again, arms circling his waist without him telling you to do so this time, your body on autopilot, cheek against his back.

Your shyness gone from how safe you felt with him at the moment.

The ride home was quieter, almost laced with sadness.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind blow on your face, his warmth seeped into you, anchoring you.

Your hands tightening around his waist even more, heart heavy with words you couldn’t say.

Stay.

Don’t leave me.

I'm scared of what I feel for you.

When he stopped outside your apartment, you knew it would be a goodbye. You slid off the bike, legs shaky from the ride as you clutched his hoodie around your body, twisting it.

You wanted to speak, to beg for him to stay, to explain the ache in your chest, but the words were caught in your throat, stopped by your fear and longing for the man who turned your world upside down.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, as his hands fisted, trying to hold himself back, jaw clenched, and for a moment you thought he’d kiss you, claim you right here under the stars, and your lips parted with shaky breaths.

But he didn’t.

“Go inside,” he said, voice heavy with anger and something close to hurt, “now.”

He didn’t trust himself around you. If you stood there for another moment looking at him like that with those needy glistening eyes of yours, he wouldn't be able to blame himself for the animal he’d be.

You nodded, heart pounding, and rushed to your door, a smile tugging at your lips despite the ache in your chest.

You glanced back as you unlocked your door, but he was already turning his bike, about to leave, not being able to bear your presence for a single second without claiming you.

You entered inside, locked the door, leaning against it. Cheeks flushed, and chest heaving as your eyes were still brimming with the memory of one of the best moments of your life, of the haven he created for you.

He wasn’t aware of it, but he healed the little girl in you without realizing it; he completed the dreams of you that you thought were fantasies only.

He mended something he didn’t break in the first place.

۶ৎ

You were in your bedroom, hunched over your notes, hair in a messy bun as you focused on studying. The world outside was a distant hum, but it was not what unraveled you—it was the presence you felt.

Jungkook was here again, somewhere in the shadows as always, his gaze burning your skin, making your heart stutter.

You hated this, hated him, hated how he would give you everything one moment, give you all the happiness in the world, and in the next moment just disappear.

Just like that.

He stayed away, tormenting you, torturing you with his stalking, never giving the satisfaction of making himself visible, complicating everything.

So, you continued focusing on your studies, trying to write, but you couldn’t focus no matter what, senses attracted to him on their own, to the man who’d become your obsession as well.

He’d been watching you for days, his presence always there, but tonight it felt different—sharper, hungrier, almost like he was tired of constantly holding back and hiding in the shadows, just like you.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you tried to focus on your medical book, but your mind kept drifting back to him—his dark eyes, his tattooed skin, and the way his touch had set your body on fire.

You hated how he always consumed you, couldn’t pull him away, body always betrayed you at every thought of him, a constant ache in your core with a need you couldn’t suppress.

Jungkook stood in the corner of your room, hidden in the darkness. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, drinking in your features and curves, the way the skirt you wore while studying outlined the shape of your ass.

You looked so damn sexy to him even when you were doing something as innocent as studying.

His cock hard and angry, the ache constant and always there, but tonight it was more than a desire as he watched you shift in your study chair.

He was filled with rage, burning in an uncontrollable anger at how you’d taken his soul in your little grasp, how you’d made him weak.

He’d watched you shower earlier, the door carelessly left ajar, your body a feast for his eyes under the water.

The glass was fogged, but he could see every curve—your full breasts bouncing as you moved, nipples hard and begging for his mouth, plump ass jiggling as you focused on rinsing your hair.

The soap suds slide down your body in a slow, intimate way that made him almost angry at how they were allowed to caress you, and he wasn’t.

The scent of your shampoo that he was familiar with filled the bathroom, along with the smell of your skin, and his eyes were dazed.

You’d been so innocent, so unaware as you hummed softly and washed your body, fingers trailing down your body sensually, and he wanted to press you against the tiles and fuck that tight cunt of yours while he watched your wet body bounce in front of his hungry eyes, your cries echoing in the bathroom.

You would beg for mercy, for a break from his fucks, but no one would be able to save you in this locked space, and he would ruin you completely.

He even killed a man afterwards, wanting to let out his rage on something, and it barely did anything for the release he craved.

Now, as you bent over to clean the kitchen floor, your little skirt rode up, exposing the curve of your plump thighs, along with your panties, the lace clinging to your ass.

The flimsy material doing nothing to cover your folds, it needs to slip a bit for him to see the entirety of your cunt fully.

The sight was fueling his anger even more, and that was it; he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He moved like a beast about to consume you, his steps silent on the floor. Before you could strengthen, he was on you in an instant, hard body pressing you against the wall, hands caging you.

A scream ripped from your throat at the scare of his sudden presence; his scent overwhelmed you. Your body trembled as his hips pinned you against the wall, your hands gripping the wall, trying to steady yourself, his erection hard against your lower back.

“jungkook.” you whispered, voice breathy with a mix of fear and need.

Your nails dug into the wall, heart wildly thrumming.

Before you could react, he pulled you to him harshly, kissing you with a hunger and roughness, a cry leaves your mouth from the pain of his bruising kiss and the shock.

He tasted of smoke and whiskey, his teeth grazed your bottom lip enough to draw blood, and you whimpered, fisting his shirt.

His hands roamed all over your body unrestrained, barely giving you a moment to breathe or think as he roughly felt you up all over, groping you in places.

One hand slides up your side cupping your breast, thumb brushing your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, making it harden instantly. The other hand gripped your hip, fingers digging enough to leave bruises that’d stay for days, and he heaved it up around his waist, making you cling to him.

Your body melted into his despite the shock and fear of his presence and the knowledge that this was wrong, faded at the back of your mind.

He pulled back, eyes burning with desire and anger, “Why the fuck do you do this to me, huh?” he roared in your face.

“You’re in my head every fucking second, tearing me apart! I can't think, I can't breathe and it's all your damn fault! I want to kill you and then end myself to make it all stop!”

You trembled, tears streaming down your face at his anger and words, cheeks flushed with heat. His words were tearing your heart apart, but your body responded to him, clit palpitating like your heartbeat.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered, shaking. “I didn’t want you to—”

“Shut up!” he snarled as his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you jump as your eyes widened, more tears spilling over.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re a fucking drug I can’t quit, and I hate you for it. I hate how you make me weak, how you make me want to burn the world to keep you.”

You didn’t look away, feeling frightened but gaining a bit of strength to talk back to the criminal.

“Then why are you here?” you croaked.

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave?”

He laughed bitterly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Because I can’t,” he growled, breath hot against your cheek.

“You’re mine, petal, whether you like it or not, and I’m going to ruin you right now.” he murmured.

Before you could respond, he tore at your clothes hands rough and impatient as your shirt and skirt fell on the floor along with your bra panty, the rip loud in the quiet room, a sob of shock left you.

You instinctively went to cover your exposed breasts, but he was quick to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head with one hand, iron like grip.

Your breasts bounced free for him, heavy and full, nipples hard and aching, begging for attention. He stared at them, his eyes dark as a growl rumbled in his chest.

“Look at you,” he murmured, free hand cupping your breast, thumb rolling your nipples until you arched, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“Always teasing me, these perfect fucking tits, always hard, always begging for my mouth. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” his dirty words made you writhe, tears welling with shame.

He lowered his head, lips finally closing around your nipple, tongue swirling hot and wet, teeth grazed your peak slightly and you sobbed out, head falling against the wall, thighs pressing together.

He sucked harder, hand kneading and flicking the nipple of the other breast, making sure it got the same attention. His finger pinched your nipple, making you squirm, trapped in his grip, having nowhere to go from his torment.

Your moans were loud and desperate as you trembled, his hand keeping your wrists pinned.

“jungkook, please,” you whined.

Pussy so wet you could feel it drip down your thighs. Your own desperation shocked you, but you couldn’t stop your body from craving him, mind feeling hazy.

He released your nipple with a wet pop, releasing your wrists and you instantly clung to him, gripping his hair to ground yourself as he slowly knelt before you.

Leaving kisses all over your collarbone, cleavage, soon reaching your stomach, breath hot against your skin

His knees hit the floor as he knelt just like that night, and without wasting any second, he spread your thighs, eyes locked on your pussy, clit swollen and twitching.

He drinks you up like a starved man even though he saw you exposed before, but it will never be enough to satiate his wild need.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, baby,” he growled, fingers brushing your inner thigh close to where you needed him the most.

“All for me, huh? My innocent little petal dripping like a slut.”

You gasped, cheeks burning with humiliation as your hands struggled in his tight grip, “Stop it,” you uttered weakly, “I’m not… I didn’t”

He ignored you, fingers sliding through your folds, exploring you, collecting your slick.

“Mhmm, gosh.” you gasped, hips bucking at the sensation, pussy clenching around nothing, and he looked up at you, eyes dark and predatory.

“I saw you,” he said voice low and dangerous.

“Fucking yourself with my rose, moaning my name like a needy little whore. You think I didn’t know? you think I didn’t see how much you wanted me?”

Your face burned in shame as tears fell faster, your stomach twisting.

“I didn’t mean to.” you sobbed, trying to push him away, your hands weak on his shoulders.

“I was just ahh—”

He plunged two fingers inside you, cutting off your words, your pussy stretching around him, the penetration sudden and intense for you.

You cried loudly, back arching, your walls clenching around his thick fingers; the sensation was a mix of pain and pleasure.

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you, thumb circling your clit relentlessly until you were moaning, hips grinding on his fingers, riding them, your body out of your control.

“Damn it, you’re tight,” he grunts, eyes locked on your face, watching every gasp and tremble of yours.

“So fucking pure, and yet you’re here taking my fingers like you were made for it.”

You sobbed, moans loud and broken, hips rocking faster despite your attempts to stop, “Jungkook, oh god… please,” you begged, bare breasts heaving, glistening with sweat and his saliva, “It’s too much, I can’t—”

He added a third finger, not paying any attention to your words or begs, as he took you the way he wanted. Your pussy was burning now with the fullness, something you have never felt in your virgin core, it felt like you were stretched at your very limit.

You screamed, body shaking, walls fluttering on his fingers, your slick coating his hand fully. “That’s it, you can do it.” he coaxed, fingers thrusting faster and hurried on your clit.

“You will. You’re mine, petal, and I’m going to make you feel it.” he snarled.

You saw white as your climax built faster than you could imagine, taking your breath away. You tried to push him away again, hands weak and tears falling, your hips moved on their own, chasing the release only he could provide.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, voice breaking, “I… I didn’t mean to make you angry, I just—”

“Stop fucking apologizing.” he said angrily, fingers curled harder, thrusts almost brutal as you were full-on crying behind your hands now, drool trickling down the side of your mouth.

“You don’t get to be sorry. You don’t get to make me like this and then act like it’s nothing. You're driving me insane, and I hate you for it!”

Your climax hit at his words, an explosion that stole your breath, “jungkook, jungkook!” you rambled his name and squirted, pussy spasming.

Your cum soaked his hand as he helped you with the aftershocks, thighs trembling, throat aching from all the screams.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, pussy clenching around nothing, the loss making you whimper. He pulled you close to him, letting your boneless body rest on his chest as you looked at him with dazed eyes.

He brought his cum-soaked fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, your taste enough to make him orgasm with no touch or anything at all, your sweetness better than anything in this world or even comparable to heaven.

“So fucking sweet.” he hummed.

You panted, tears staining your cheeks, body exposed and vulnerable.

He stood, hands gripping your hips, lifting you until you were straddling him, your weak legs supported by him, the harshness of his jeans against your sensitive cunt made you gasp.

His hands roamed your body possessively, groping your tits once again and pulling your already hurting nipples, achy from his teeth earlier. He can never get enough of you; even if he spent days touching you, he could never have enough.

You huffed, body trembling with overstimulation, tears prickling your eyes again. He looked at your essence-soaked bottom, still dripping pussy with release, along with your small, tight ring that clenched under his gaze.

His gaze was so intense, and you felt perverted as he saw all your intimate places, innocence gone just from his stare.

“I’ll fuck you when you beg for it.” he rasped, hands suddenly pushed you off him and onto the bed, you gasped.

You landed onto the bed with a thud, body bouncing as your tears fell. You looked up at him, bottom lip quivering. He stood over you, his erection very much visible against his jeans. He never minded that, always wanting to feast on you and please you, that was better than him getting pleased himself.

“Until then you’d feel this.” he said, hand gesturing to your trembling body, achy pussy, and thighs soaked with release.

“You’ll ache for me, and you’ll hate yourself for it.”

He turned, walking away with long strides as the door slammed loudly behind him, the sound making you flinch in the silence.

You lay there naked, body still thrumming with need, heart shattered at his words and how he left you.

You sobbed and hiccupped onto the sheets, gripping onto the it like you were gripping his shirt moments before.

You hated him so much.

The room smelled of him, of you, along with the agony he’d left behind.

You knew deep down that you were his prisoner as much as he was yours and there was no escaping it.

────

taglist: @wintaemoonjen @minewlove @chaelvrx @nanisblogg @slutology00 @kelsyx33 @furioustrashlover @jjeonjjk7 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @asyr97 @ttanniett @bratzdaull @yunhoswrldddd @jeonzll @endlesslysassy @elmarimochi9513 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lisax-30 @moodytangerine @taetaecatboy @katwiththatrat @yikes-ukiyo @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @flutterguk @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @universallywizardkoala @kookxin @mageprincess7 @satisfied18 @existentialzaddy @strawberryberrygirl @tranquilreign @honeybearmin @melooooosusupp @thvflowr @jimineepaboya @tranquilreign @granataepfelchen @cherricherryy @tatamicc @minghaosimp @kooko009 @clrwonuu

[msfantasy-anime]

Rock the Boat [18+]

Monkey D Luffy x wife!Reader

Summary: A short erotic story of you and your husband Luffy getting intimate

A/n: okay— to be so real with you. I had it in my head that it would be this huge story. But I feel like the Wife series has been so wholesome, it felt wrong to make it so descriptive and dirty. So, I went for more wholesome, vanilla vibes with very vague details…

Part • XIII • Final

The ship rocked gently against the lapping sea waves which provides a calm cadence as you and Luffy remain laying on your sides, holding each other in your typical nightly embrace.

Your limbs entangled into your husbands sleepy form. Leg tossed over Luffy’s hip as he continued to snooze away.

Having his body pressed against yours is usually nothing to get worked up over. Yet, the steady breathing tickles your ear, as his hand absentmindedly grips the fat of your thighs keeping you anchored in place.

The familiar warmth building in the pit of your stomach is now sending heat across your thighs at every happy jolt being sent to your core as the boats rocking send your hips to slightly rock into Luffy’s on lap.

It wouldn’t take much effort to stop your hips from rocking. But before you even could, Luffy’s hand grips your thigh hard, slotting himself harshly between your legs, and you felt it.

The thing that all men have.

Only it belonged to Luffy and it was hard and it was pressing into where you wanted it most.

“You awake?” He asks, pressing his sticky forehead onto your own; dazed eyes peering down into your own glossy ones.

“Yeah…” you breath quietly as he slots his mouth into your own, kissing you in that way that always makes your breathless, especially now that his grounded his hips up into your own making you gasp desperately at the sensation, your greedy fingers gripping onto his biceps for dear life.

There was no talking, there was no need to, as you both continue the action crossing a line you never have before despite your marital status.

His mouth doesn’t leave your own as he pulls your shorts off just enough for your to kick them off. His fingers sliding between your slick crease.

But you’re feeling too hot, too needy, so you ask for more without any further delay.

“Please…hurry…” and he knows what you’re asking. Despite both being adults and never having done this before, somehow he knew exactly what you wanted.

He doesn’t teases your coy behaviour. Only grins with that knowing smile of his with a throaty chuckle as he frees his member, rolling ontop of you.

Positioning it, between your legs as they shakily part and wrap around Luffy’s back as he begins to sink into your desperate core, inch by inch.

You sigh at the relief of having him plunged fully inside of you, whilst also wincing at the presssure, as he struggles to hold back a groan.

His rare, serious face in place of his typical goofy smile. His hand caress your cheek until he moves his hold to cradle your cheek, rocking into you at the pace of lapping waves. His mouth reaching for yours again, attempting to muffle any sinful sounds, meant for your ears only — and no one else’s.

“I-“ You sputter as he begins to speed up. “Love you.” You admit, something that was a huge admission on your part, but Luffy seems relatively unfazed. Peering down at your expectantly.

“Love ya too.”

Tag list:

[vortexbloom]

Phainon & Mydei as your Husbands (Headcanons)

Pairing: Phainon x Female Reader x Mydei

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: None

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

Art by: @2__0__9 on X (Twitter)

୨ৎ Phainon is the type to watch and analyze before acting, always knowing exactly what you need before you even ask. He’s the kind to notice small details, like if you had a stressful day just from the way you carry herself.

୨ৎ While Mydei might be more intense, Phainon remains calm and reassuring, the kind of partner who grounds the relationship and ensures stability.

୨ৎ He plans everything meticulously, from elegant dates to well thought out gifts. When he does touch you, it’s purposeful and intimate, like a lingering hand on your waist or a slow caress on your cheek.

୨ৎ If Mydei is in a passionate, possessive mood, Phainon will simply smirk and let him have his moment.

Art by: @Kashiko_0911 on X (Twitter)

୨ৎ Mydei is the type of lover who openly claims you, wrapping an arm around your waist and challenging anyone who even dares to look at you for too long. He doesn’t share lightly, except with Phainon, whom he trusts completely.

୨ৎ Mydei is bold and physical. Expect intense kisses, possessive marks, and whispered words of devotion. He wants you to know you’re wanted, loved, and cherished.

୨ৎ If you spend too much time with Phainon, Mydei will dramatically sulk, only for Phainon to tease him about it. He might pull you onto his lap, just to prove a point.

୨ৎ Mydei puts up a strong, almost regal front, but if you ask him sweetly for something, he melts instantly. "Tch. Fine, but only because it’s you."

Art by: @pin3909 on X (Twitter)

୨ৎ Mydei is passion, spontaneity, and heat, while Phainon is control, calculation, and patience. You get the best of both worlds, one moment, you‘re in a whirlwind of fiery kisses and possessive words, the next, you‘re held gently by Phainon as he whispers something soothing in your ear.

୨ৎ Phainon and Mydei would have silent competitions over who can make you blush more. Mydei goes for bold, public affection, while Phainon uses subtle, private gestures, like whispering something sinful in your ear while keeping a straight face.

୨ৎ If someone dares to threaten or insult you, both of them will handle it, Mydei head on with fire and fury, while Phainon coldly and methodically dismantles the enemy behind the scenes. You‘re never in danger with them around.

୨ৎ If you‘re feeling playful, you could make them compete for your attention, something Mydei finds amusing but takes very seriously, while Phainon just gives a knowing smile and waits for the right moment to steal your attention back effortlessly.

© 2024-2025 vortexbloom all rights reserved. Don’t repost, edit, translate or plagiarize my work!

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[hippiegoth97]

Heat of The Moment: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: You're best friends with Eddie, but you're also secretly in love with him. You struggle to hide your feelings, until a visit to Lover's Lake makes you unable to keep up the act anymore. Thankfully, things go better than you expect...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI:  smut, swearing, female reader, jealousy, crying, lots of angsty feelings, friends to lovers, metalhead!reader, drug references/use, grinding, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, squirting

Word Count: 5.5k

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Heat of The Moment

You've been close friends with Eddie Munson since high school. You remember not fitting in with anybody, and then Eddie took you under his wing. He showed you how to play D&D, and all of his metal band cassette tapes. Soon after, you joined the Hellfire Club and became a full-blown metalhead. You cut your hair short and dyed it funky colors, and wore a beaten leather jacket covered in pins and patches. Your jeans were always torn, and Converse adorned your feet at all times. You even had your nose pierced, much to your mother's dismay. Your eyes were always smoky with eyeliner, and dark red lipstick made your mouth look absolutely sinful. You made guitar pick earrings and a matching necklace to wear, Eddie had generously given the picks to you. You'd even made him a necklace as well, and he gave you the biggest bear hug when you gifted it to him on his birthday. You were hoping for a kiss, but you took whatever affection you could get from Eddie.

Years later, you'd both just squeaked by to graduate, you never took your grades very seriously. You don't see the point of doing what everyone in life pushed on you. College, marriage, kids, the house with the white picket fence. It all seems so hollow, and you want no part in it. You instead choose to focus on Eddie. You play D&D with him regularly, and he recently decided to teach you how to play the guitar. Some days you just get high and listen to Metallica or Dio in his trailer. Any time you can spend by his side, you jump at the chance. You couldn't help falling in love with him, but you're sure he doesn't feel the same. He treats you like a sister, a best friend. He always picks other girls to go out with and screw. It's not like you aren't a catch, you've been with plenty of guys. But none of them make you feel the way Eddie does, so you’ve never formed a long-term relationship with any of them. You can barely remember their names, they don't matter to you at all.

It always hurts you to see Eddie with other girls, kissing and giggling with them. They sit in his lap after his shows, practically humping him on the couch in his trailer. It always makes you want to scream, or vomit. That should be you, not some whore who doesn't care about him. So you try your best to act unbothered, bringing your own dates to distract yourself. You eventually fuck them on the couch while Eddie takes whatever girl he brought home to his bed.

But the whole time you're having sex with someone else, you can hear what’s happening in his bedroom. It makes you want to burst into tears, but you just pretend you don't hear. Or worse, you pretend the random guy you’re with is Eddie instead. You always feel disgusted afterwards though, you're just using random men to fill a gaping hole inside your heart. Not only that, you don't even pretend to like them. They all have blank faces, no names to you. You fill in the blanks when it comes time to screw them, pasting Eddie where you want him most. But they never perform the way you imagine he would. They don't care about you, or your pleasure. Once they're done, they leave. You're left laying on the couch afterwards, hearing noises from the bedroom with your clothes still removed or undone. It's here that you always lose the battle with your tears, letting them out silently to make sure the lovebirds aren't disturbed. You eventually get yourself together, wiping your tears away before Eddie escorts his girl to the door.

"You okay?" He always asks after he lets his whore out, taking notice of your puffy eyes and streaky eyeliner.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just another asshole." It isn't necessarily a lie, the guys you pick blindly usually don't treat you very well.

"Maybe you need to find someone you actually like, Y/N. You deserve to be happy." He kneels in front of you, wiping your eyes carefully. He looks into your eyes, and opens his mouth to say something. But he always closes it again, and shakes his head slightly. "Let me drive you home." And he always does, trying his best to cheer you up on the way. Telling jokes, blasting music, swerving the van playfully on the road. He does everything he can to get your tears to stop. It always works too, he shines so bright in your life. He makes everything better, any troubles you have melt away when you're with him. He parks and walks you to the door of your apartment like a true gentleman, telling you goodnight. You say the same, and burst into tears all over again when you close the door behind you and you're sure he won't hear. You cry so hard your chest hurts, and your throat is left raw from sobbing.

You eventually run out of tears for the night, crawling into bed with all your clothes still on, too tired to remove them. You lay in bed yearning for Eddie for hours, picturing what being his girlfriend could be like. It's oddly comforting, playing pretend in your head while you curl up in the blanket. You drift off to sleep with thoughts of the man you love swirling in your mind. And in the morning, the cycle starts again. Wake up, D&D/guitar lessons, van hangout, work, Eddie's show, back to his trailer, meaningless sex, crying, drive home, crying again, sleep. At some point this routine is sure to kill you, you can't keep going like this. You'll tell Eddie how you feel the next time you see him. And then you can either be with him, or put these pesky feelings behind you if he only sees you as a friend.

It's a Saturday afternoon, and you're getting ready to see Eddie. It's just the two of you today, you'll be going to Lover's Lake to hang out in his van. You both like the lake, not because of its name but because it's always peaceful there. The reflections of the surrounding woods on the water, birds flying overhead, a cool breeze brushing through the trees. It's nice and quiet, making you feel like it's just you and Eddie in the world. You're just about finished applying your smudgy eyeliner when you hear Eddie honking outside. You almost stab yourself with your eye pencil when the sound startles you. You toss it on your vanity, checking yourself over to make sure you look good. Your makeup is flawless, your outfit is badass as ever, and you don’t have a single hair out of place. You smile at your own reflection, eager to go with Eddie so you can tell him how you feel. You grab your bag, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs. You run over to the van, yanking the passenger door open. You slide into your seat, tossing your bag in the back.

"Hey there, Y/N. How are you doing on this fine afternoon?" He smirks at you, looking you up and down. You seem extra put together today, he wonders if he's the reason for it. He pushes the thought from his head, there's no way you think of him like that.

"Hey, Eddie. I'm alright I guess." You say quietly, feeling his eyes on you. You look at him, meeting his wandering gaze. Did he just check me out?, you wonder. No way, he wouldn't do that.

"You 'guess'? That doesn't sound like the Y/N I know. Well, hopefully some time at the lake will brighten your mood, hm?" He puts his hand on your knee, rubbing it comfortingly. You tense at his touch, almost holding your breath. The skin where his hand is feels tingly with anticipation. "Seriously, though. Are you feeling okay? You've been kinda off lately." He's genuinely concerned about you, you've been acting weird around him recently. Whenever he touches you, it makes you all jumpy, and you've been crying a lot too. He hopes he hasn't upset you somehow, he truly cares for you. He likes you a lot, more than he'd readily admit. But he figures you only see him as a friend.

"I'm fine, Eddie. Let's just go to the lake, okay?" You reply, almost annoyed. You look out the window, waiting for him to start driving. Eddie sighs, taking his hand off your knee. He grips the steering wheel, and drives out of the parking lot. You both ride in silence on the way to the lake, but Eddie can't help looking over at you every so often. You refuse to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes focused on any sights outside the window as you ride past. Any enthusiasm or bravery you had about telling Eddie you love him is slipping away from your grasp.

Eddie continues to glance at you as he goes his usual route to the lake. Something is definitely off with you, he can see a sad expression on your face reflecting back at him in the window you keep staring out of. He doesn't know exactly why you seem so down, but he hopes you'll at least talk to him about it.

You finally reach the lake, and Eddie parks the van in your usual spot. He kills the engine, turning in his seat to face you. "So, are you gonna tell me what's going on, Y/N? Did I make you upset or something?" You turn to face him, looking into his eyes. His expression makes your heart break. He thinks he's hurt you, but it's been you hurting yourself because of how you feel about him.

"No, Eddie. You didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid, I promise." You reach forward to take his hands into yours. He lets you, and you stroke his rings, taking comfort in how the cool metal feels under your thumb. You want to keep talking, but it's like your mouth has been sewn shut.

"So what is it then? And I'm sure it's not stupid, Y/N. But you seem so sad lately, and you practically wince whenever I touch you. Just tell me what's wrong, darling. There's nothing you could say that would make me like you any less." He implores you to open up to him. He wants to help, however he can.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Eds." You manage to reply, and your gaze falls to your joined hands. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and your palms are sweating beyond belief. You feel sick, like you can't breathe. You can't do this. It'll ruin everything, and then Eddie won't want to see you anymore. You try to hold back, but your tears fight their way from your eyes, dripping onto the floor. Eddie's hands leave your grasp, grabbing the sides of your face to make you look at him again.

"Hey, hey. Y/N, please don't cry. Whatever it is, please just tell me. I can't stand seeing you so unhappy, princess." Seeing you like this makes his heart smash into a million pieces. He wants to make it better, but he doesn't even know what the problem is. You start to panic, your breaths come out fast and shallow. You start feeling dizzy, and you wish you could just run and hide. But you can't, Eddie won't let you go.

"I can't do this, Eddie. It'll ruin everything. And then you won't like me anymore. And I can't live with that." You choke the words out between sobs, your face turning a deep shade of scarlet. You're so embarrassed, and you just want to drop it. "Please, just forget it. We can pretend this never happened and I'll stop being an idiot. Please, I-" Eddie interrupts you by bringing his lips to yours. Your sobs stop, but your body still shudders a bit. You return the kiss, it's gentle and warm. A few more tears slide down your cheeks, and then Eddie breaks the kiss. He smiles at you, letting go of your face to hold your hands again.

"You know, if you were in love with me, all you had to do was say so." His smile grows wider when you gasp at his words. You open your mouth to protest, or put yourself down, but he places a finger over your lips to keep you quiet. "It's alright, darling. I promise you haven't ruined anything. I should've guessed this is why you've been acting so strange. I just didn't think you'd feel the same way about me as I do about you." Your eyes widen, you can't believe he's actually been in love with you this whole time.

You move his finger from your mouth, and grab his shirt collar. You pull him into you, smashing your lips together. He groans as you almost make him fall from his seat, but he hungrily reciprocates the kiss. He bites your bottom lip, making you moan. He slips his tongue in, and you battle for dominance. He wins out, frantically leading you to the back of the van. There's pillows and blankets thrown about, making a comfortable landing place for you. You fall onto your back, with Eddie on top of you. You finally break the kiss, stroking his face with the back of your hand. "You have no idea how many times I've wished for this, Eddie. I've loved you for so long, but I didn't think I could ever tell you. You always chose other girls over me."

"I know, and I was a fuckin' idiot. I only did that because I thought you didn't want me. We could've saved so much time, so much heartbreak. I can't begin to tell you how often I imagined those other girls were you instead." You laugh in shock at what he’s said. Him, fantasizing about you? You can't believe it. This whole time, he’s only wanted you. "That's not weird, is it?" He asks, blushes slightly at his little confession.

"Not at all, Eddie. If I'm being honest, I did the same thing with all those assholes I brought to the trailer. But I don't think they came even close to pleasing me like I imagine you could."

"Jesus, we're a couple of sick fucks, aren't we?" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"No. We were just painfully oblivious to each other's true feelings." You giggle, staring into his eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Your lips meet again, slow and sensual this time. The temperature in the van begins to rise, you feel your blood boiling in your veins. Eddie's hands grip your waist, and his left knee goes between your legs. He's creating friction on your clothed core, causing you to moan. His lips leave yours, moving to your jaw, and your neck. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking the flesh to leave hickies on you. "Fuck, Eddie. You're really good at this." You sigh blissfully, letting every sensation wash over you.

"I should hope so, I've had plenty of practice." He says between kisses, smirking like an idiot. One of his hands leaves your waist to grope your tits through your shirt. You arch your back off the floor of the van, gasping at his touch. "You make such pretty noises, princess." He whispers in your ear. "I can't wait to hear what you sound like when you cum." His words make you so wet, and his knee grinding on you feels so good. Every move Eddie makes sets your insides on fire, intense waves of pleasure washing over you. He's got you so wound up, soaking through your panties. Not long now until he pushes you over the edge.

"If you keep going the way you are, it won't take much." You moan out, your hands tangling in his hair. You tug on it roughly, and he groans into your neck.

"Careful, Y/N. It's dangerous to push my buttons like that." He grins at you, pulling you to sit up. He places you on top of him, his thigh positioned between your legs. You're sitting on your knees, and Eddie grips your hips in his hands. "Ride my thigh, darling. I want you to make yourself cum for me." He says lowly, his eyes burning with lust as they gaze into yours. You do as he says, slowly moving your hips on him. Eddie keeps your pace steady, helping you into the right angle to hit the spot where you need him most. You place your hands on his shoulders for leverage, increasing your pace on him. He just sits there watching you closely, drinking in every moan and curse that falls from your lips.

The waves are crashing into you now, threatening to pull you under. You're sweating through your clothes, and your pussy is impossibly wet. "Fuck, Eddie. I'm so close." You moan loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders.

"Keep going, princess. Make a mess all over me. Let me hear those pretty moans." His words spur you on further, and you grind yourself on him as fast as you can. You're panting wildly, feeling wave after wave rolling into you. Eddie moves to bite down into your neck, which sends you falling over the edge.

"Oh, god!" You scream, your legs try to snap shut as stars fill your vision. Eddie holds you into his chest, keeping you upright as your orgasm rips through you. You keep gripping his shoulders, gasping for air as you ride out your high. You fall backwards after your body has calmed down. You just lay here like a starfish, trying to collect your thoughts. You're staring at the roof of the van, breathing heavily. Eddie lays down on his side next to you. His head is propped up with one hand, and the other slowly strokes your arm up and down.

"How are you feeling, love?" He asks, looking down at you with kind eyes.

"Good. Uh, great, actually." You say awkwardly, glancing at him briefly. "I've never done that before. Not…cum, I've done that plenty. I just mean, the whole...um, grinding on you thing. I didn't expect it to have such an effect on me." You can't help your cheeks burning. You feel silly, babbling words at Eddie like this.

"Relax, Y/N. You don't have to be embarrassed about anything with me, you know that." You look at him again, seeing genuine affection in his eyes. You nod, turning your body to face his. You get as close to him as you can, and he wraps his arms around you. You kiss him again, but it's much softer now. Your heart melts, and you pull him even closer. He breaks away, speaking quietly. "Do you want more, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please." You reply just as quietly. You're not sure why you're both being so quiet, but it feels right. This moment feels so intimate, and you never want it to end. You lay on your back again after removing your jacket. He takes his own off too, the climate inside the van is like a sauna.

"Take your shirt off for me, princess." You obey his command, tossing it away. Eddie's right hand immediately goes to massage one of your breasts over your bra, making you gasp. His eyes gaze over your body, almost in awe of how beautiful you look. After a moment of staring, he lifts your torso to reach behind you. He expertly unclasps your bra, pulling it off you with ease. His breath hitches when your tits are exposed for him, your nipples hardened from arousal. "You're so gorgeous, baby.'' You blush at his compliment, a small giggle escaping your lips. Eddie lowers his head to your chest, kissing the valley between your breasts. You moan, gripping his long locks again. He peppers wet kisses on every last inch of you, leaving no flesh untouched. From the curves of your tits, to your ribs underneath, his lips leave a scorching trail as he moves. Once he's satisfied with his work, he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"Eddie." You whimper as he worries his teeth on the sensitive bud. His hand gropes your other breast, squeezing it roughly. Once he's left you properly marked, Eddie repeats the same actions on the other side. You tug on his hair again, making him groan. You love hearing the effect you have on him, most guys are too shy to make noises. But Eddie isn't most guys, especially when he's around you. You tug again harder, and he moans even louder. He stops kissing your chest, looking at you. His eyes are dark, swirling with pure lust.

"You love playing with danger, don't you, princess?" He flashes you a devilish grin.

"Maybe." You smile back at him. "But I love the noises you make when I touch you even more. Guys don't really do that, but it's so fucking hot."

"Is that so?" He asks, you just nod at him. "I'll keep that in mind, darling." He sits up to remove his shirt, and you can't help gawking at his body. He's toned, but slender, and his tattoos look so good on him. You get on your knees to feel him up. You run your hands up and down his chest, feeling as much of him as you can. "You like what you see, love?" He asks quietly. You look into his eyes, feeling passion overtake you. You grab him by the shoulders, and push him over as you bring your lips onto his in a bruising kiss. He grunts as he falls, grabbing your waist to take you with him. You straddle him when he lands, grinding yourself onto his stiffening cock. He groans into your mouth, gripping your hips roughly. "What's gotten into you, Y/N? You're so needy." Eddie chuckles as he breaks the kiss to take a breath.

"You'll see, Eds. Just lay down and relax." You grin slyly at him. He cocks an eyebrow, unsure of what you mean. You proceed to lick a long stripe from his collarbone to his jaw. You look at him again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He just stares at you, wide-eyed. He's panting, awaiting your next move. You feel his dick growing even harder beneath you. You take that as a sign to keep going. You lean back down to his neck, biting down hard this time, then sucking the skin to make a dark bruise.

"Jesus, fuck." He moans out, spurring you on. You nibble his skin, trailing down his neck, to his chest, his stomach. Each move you take elicits whimpers and curses from Eddie's lips. Every sound is music to your ears, making you more and more wet whenever you hear one. You reach his belt, looking over your handiwork. Eddie's body is littered with teeth marks, and he's breathing heavily. You undo his belt, taking your time in order to tease him. Once it's open you unzip his jeans, pulling them down as Eddie kicks off his shoes. He's left in his boxers now, and a tent has formed in the thin fabric. You grip his waistband and yank his boxers down. His dick springs free, slapping his stomach before standing up straight.

You take his length in your hand, stroking him gently. He groans again, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "You're very sexy when you're desperate, baby." Eddie's completely fucked for you, silently begging you to put him in your mouth. You happily oblige him, taking every last inch of him at once. You gag slightly when he hits the back of your throat, but you're persistent about keeping as much of him in as possible. You bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue around him as you go. He's constantly letting out lewd noises, which only serve to fuel your fire.

"Keep going, babe. But can you put your pussy towards me?" He asks, barely getting the words out. You position yourself where he wants you, and he makes frantic work of taking off your shoes and remaining clothes. You moan on Eddie's cock as you feel him stroking your slick folds. "You're so wet, darling. Is this all for me?" He asks as he slips two fingers into your cunt.

All you can manage to reply with is a muffled 'mmhmm' as he starts curling his digits inside you. Each stroke of Eddie's fingers makes you see stars, causing you to moan on him again and again. This in turn makes him groan and pick up his pace while fingering you. You feel Eddie's balls tightening, he's getting close. You speed up, working him harder and faster, gagging on him repeatedly. He takes this as a challenge to give you another orgasm, so he takes his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. You scream on his length, feeling a fire beginning to build in your belly. His mouth licks and sucks on your clit mercilessly, pouring gasoline on the flames.

You're both driving each other mad as you compete to send the other over the edge. Moans fill the van as you near your highs, each lick and stroke pushing you further and further. Eddie's release comes first, and his mouth temporarily leaves your dripping cunt to moan your name as he cums down your throat. Once you've swallowed every drop, he sucks your clit into his mouth to make you topple over the edge. You scream his name as your legs begin to shake. Your orgasm rips through your body viciously, and you feel yourself cum onto Eddie's face. He holds you steady until your high subsides, licking up all your juices in the meantime.

You collapse onto him, practically gasping for air. You lay on your stomach for a moment, waiting for your vision to clear. Eddie strokes the backs of your legs affectionately. "You alive over there, Y/N?" He asks playfully.

"Yeah, just...wow. You're so fucking good at that." You sit up, back still facing him. His arms wrap around you from behind, his legs on either side of you. He kisses your shoulder, and your neck. His lips feel warm and soft against your skin, and you're already wanting more. You sigh as you cock your head to the side to give Eddie more access. He licks the length of your neck, stopping below your jaw. "Everything you do feels so good, Eddie." You sigh lustfully. You turn slightly to face him, looking at him from under your lashes. "Do you want to fuck me now?" You ask, biting your lip.

"Sure thing, dollface. Can you get on your hands and knees for me?" You nod silently, doing as he says. He kneels behind you, gently pressing you downwards. He leaves you resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. He grips his cock, brushing it between your soaked folds, drawing low moans from both of you. He teases you like this for a moment, eager to have you beg him to fuck you. You're so turned on it almost hurts, you need him inside you now.

"Eddie, please stop teasing. I need your dick inside me." You practically whine for him. He chuckles darkly at your pleading.

"Your wish is my command, princess." He says as he slams his cock into you.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out as he hits your g spot perfectly.

"God, you're so wet and tight for me. Fuckin’ gorgeous." He pants, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. You moan continuously, he hammers your sweet spot with each thrust. He smacks your ass, making you yell.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You grip the scattered blankets beneath you for dear life, spots hinder your vision as you're fucked into next week. The sound of your vulgar noises and slapping skin is all you can hear, and it's like the most beautiful music in the world. You're loving every second of this, as is Eddie. But there's something else you crave from him. You don't just want Eddie to fuck you, you want him to do filthy things to you. "Babe, do you mind choking me while you fuck me?" You ask him as he continues to pound into your cunt.

He's taken aback by your request. Not because he's not into it, he definitely is. He's just surprised you want him to do that to you. But he finds your desires to be ridiculously sexy, and who is he to deny you? "Of course, darling. Anything you want." You can hear the smirk in his voice as his ringed hand comes forward, pulling you up by the shoulder. He lays on your back slightly so he can reach your throat. You feel the cool metal that adorns his fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly. You choke out a moan as the pressure makes your head lighten. He loosens his grip for a moment as he continues to fuck you.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Eddie. Keep going. Fuck me, choke me, make me cum, please." You keep moaning and begging for Eddie to have his way with you, and he can't help but give you anything you ask for.

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. I fuckin’ love it." His grip on your throat tightens again, and he snaps his hips even harder into you. You're both slicked in sweat, struggling to keep your positions. You're nearing the end again, and you can already tell it's going to be the most intense orgasm you've ever had. Your skin is on fire, your insides like burning coals. Every feeling is amplified, concentrated in your pussy. Every time Eddie's cock enters you, it's like fireworks being set off.

Every curse and dirty request you let out makes Eddie's dick twitch. He can't believe how beautiful and sexy you are like this. He's genuinely in love with you, and his heart pounds in his chest as he races to the finish line. His free hand slithers down between your legs to your clit, rubbing quick circles. You gasp loudly, and his ringed hand tightens around your throat. He uses his arm to hold you in place, rubbing and fucking and choking you simultaneously. Eddie mentally congratulates himself on pulling off such a feat, but maintains focus on making you cum. "I'm so close, babe. Keep going, just like that." You say once his grip loosens again.

"I'm almost there too, princess. Be a good girl and cum for me." He pinches your clit between his fingers, sending you toppling over the edge.

"Eddie! Oh, fuck!" You scream so loud, and you feel your pussy clamp onto Eddie's dick. He groans, feeling his own high take over. He continues to hold you as your legs tremble violently, and juices spurt out of you onto the blankets.

"Jesus, Y/N!" He moans as your walls clench him. He feels your cum rush over his cock, spilling out of you. It feels unbelievable, he's never experienced anything like it. His load empties into you, mixing with your release as his hips buck compulsively a few times. Once Eddie regains composure, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and your combined arousal slowly drips out of you. Eddie stares at the sight for a moment, before wiping it up with his finger. You moan at the overstimulation, and lay on your stomach as you cool down. Eddie lays beside you, trying to get your attention. You turn to him, seeing the gathered cum still on his finger. He brings it to your lips, and you immediately take it in your mouth. You suck it clean, moaning at the sweet taste. "Shit, could you be any hotter, Y/N?"

You just shrug and lean over to kiss him. He melts into you, caressing your cheek. The kiss feels different this time. It's slow and tender, full of love. You eventually break away, and you both lay down again. You place your head on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. Your leg lays over Eddie’s as you try to be as close to him as possible. Your hand strokes his chest while he plays with your hair. "I love you, Eddie. I'm so glad I met you." You say, barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Y/N. I don't think I've ever loved anyone like this before." He replies at the same volume. He pulls one of the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into you even more. You can't help but let your eyes flutter closed. You're so content like this. Your heart swells as Eddie's words echo in your mind as you drift off to sleep. He loves you, and you love him. Nothing could ruin this moment. The world could end and you wouldn't care, as long as you get to stay like this with Eddie.

The end.

[jweekgoji]

Hi hi, I have a request, it's a TF one nsfw, I thought a Orion x Femme reader x D-16

I came up with maybe they're off the mining shift and Orion is with reader in a storage closet and they fragging and D-16 walks in looking for Orion or idk 😭and Orion offers him to join and they ravage reader

Orion Pax/Reader/D-16

tags: NSF///W (minors, don't read), slight voyeurism, threesome, dirty talk, light teasing, deep penetration, double penetration, m/f/m. additonal: femme!reader, cybertronian!reader, top!Orion Pax, sub!Reader, top!D-16 word count: ~2,9k

How many times have you been in this situation? Hiding in the cramped space of the storage room, nothing but drilling tools in this place...along with you.

Your back hurts so awfully, the lingering sensation down your spine making your circuits whine. After hours of long, hard shifts in the depths of the mines, this is quite the familiar state of every bot you know. Usually, you'd have been lying in the tiny recharge slab that you had a long time ago, but at least you'd get some time off before you'd have to repeat the day's cycle from the beginning in the early morning.

As Orion presses you against the wall, a light, almost barely audible exhale leaves your lips. The bright optics lose their usual light for only a moment. You instinctively arch your back, and the servo wraps itself neatly around your partner's neck.

You definitely need to stop giving in to him. He may not care that he's at the bottom of the promotion list for the umpteenth time, but you definitely don't want to repeat his fate!

That's why you, as an honorable and responsible worker, are definitely not going to give in to your less rational blue-and-red companion, and.... so now you let him get on with it.

Orion's servo rests gently on your waist, slowly sliding down every tiny detail of your back until it finally stops on the smooth surface of the aft.

It is so hard to keep himself away from you all day long, constantly listening to Darkwing's complaints or rude comments. There aren't many things in the life of an ordinary miner that can bring him as much pleasure as being with you. Surely, there were occasional sneaking out into the archives, some arcade game sessions with his best friend, but can all of that really compare to being so close to the one person you cherish so much?

Supporting your weight with his own, strong servos, Orion pressed you only closer to himself, nestling between your thighs, as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Better, much, much better now.

That cocky little smirk always plastered on his faceplate. Whenever you two are together, there is rarely a moment where he actually tries to act serious around you. It takes a soothing effect on you in some way. Smiling and happy with life, as if you have hope for some bright future in this world.

Noticing your silence, Orion presses his lips lightly against your neck, the contrast of the colder metal against yours, more heated, creating a contrast between the two temperatures. So unfair...! He's barely coaxed you away to finally be alone together, and you're not giving him any attention he wants at all!

You notice those big blue optics looking at you from down below; your lower lip pulled forward, forming that familiar, unsatisfied face. Yes, you've remembered the reason why it's always so hard for you to tell him no. You roll your eyes demonstratively.

“You should cheer up a little,” Orion murmurs against your neck, peppering small kisses down your sensitive throat. “How often do we get to spend time like this?”

You tilt your head to the side only slightly in response, raising your optical ridge as your lips were pressed in a thin line. Is he serious now?

For a brief moment, Orion flaps his optics silently, the awkward pause between you causing him to smile awkwardly. “Okay, often, but my point still stands!”

Quietly tsking your tongue, your servo reaches down to grab his chin and pull him closer, initiating a kiss. In response, your mr-since-the-last-accident only gives a quiet moan. Trying to relieve the uncomfortable, tight knot down below, feeling his spike pressing against the interface panel, Orion squeezes your hips harder, angling you to grind your own interface panel against his.

His breath hitches, forcing you to break the kiss for a moment. Hips involuntarily canting forward into your touch, trying to coax out a response out of you. This was wrong; you knew it was wrong, probably not the best idea, especially doing it here...but it felt too good to stop.

Your hushed sighs, a soft ‘Orion...!’ music to his audials. If only you could see yourself from the other side. To see how sweetly you try not to make a noise, shivering in his tight embrace, maybe you would finally understand the motive behind his actions.

Crammed into the corner of the room where you were hiding, was the perfect place to finally get his way with you. The one servo on your hip neatly goes up, the rough metal pads of his fingers circle around the middle of your interface panel.

Slumped back against the wall, your metal frame shuddering with the pleasurable ripples of arousal coursing through your inner mechanisms. He tries so hard, always making sure you're really ready and genuinely enjoying every second of your time together. Lightly arching your back into his touch, without too much effort, your interface panel opens.

He can feel your chassis squirming against his own, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to just take you then and there. But he resists the urge, wanting to make sure you're both fully satisfied before he loses himself completely.

Slowly, he slips two digits inside your valve, already dripping wet, making a honey looking mess between your thighs. You can tell how Orion's optics are already glued to the view, tongue licking the inside of his teeth, already anticipating himself, with his glossa cleaning every inch of you.

The quiet gasp escapes you as Orion's digits find that special spot inside you, drawing more of the sweet huffs of the hot air. He slips a single more finger, feeling the inner walls of your valve fluttering around his digits.

You gently squeeze Orion's shoulder, trying to control your own voice. You almost instinctively move your hips forward to his touch, meeting each thrust of his fingers inside you.

After a brief wait, Orion slowly pulls his fingers out. The optics are confined to his own fingertips, rubbing them one against the other before he slides them into his mouth, tasting you.

Another, quiet, but this time more demanding whimper escapes from you, causing Orion to momentarily pull away from his little moment of fantasy. A light, light blue pollen forming blush appears on his face after the brief realization that you are watching him.

“Yes- right, sorry,” Orion smiles awkwardly, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. So distracted by touching you, he's barely focused on his own state of being.

Carefully positioning himself between your legs, Orion's interface panel easily pops open, and if anything, just a mere brush against you would have triggered it to let loose, if you tried. Despite the overwhelming urge to just bury his spike to the halt, he restrains himself enough that with a slow, steady push, Orion begins to ease himself into you.

You tense up slightly, holding your breath for only a moment. The barely noticeable whirring of your coolers fills the room. Your state doesn't escape Orion's gaze, and with a gentle stroke on your back, he tries to reassure you.

“Come on, relax,” he flashes you that heartful smirk, trying to reassure you. “We've been doing this here for a long time and still no one caught-”

Orion's words are suddenly interrupted by the slight hiss of a door opening. And at that moment, everything seemed to freeze around you.

Orion immediately turns his head back to look behind him. You feel his servo gently squeezing your frame, pulling you closer, as if trying to hide from view. It seemed like you'd continue to look at each other like this before...

“Are you two crazy?” D-16 takes a few steps further into the storage room, just enough for the door to close behind him. Great, less chance of bringing someone else into this not at all embarrassing situation. “Couldn't you find a room any better?”

Oh, just a D-16. Just him? At least it's better than bumping into one of the guards.

Orion's iron grip on you visibly relaxes, and instead of a brief panic, a playful smile reappears on his face. Orion playfully rolls his optics in response to the lecture from his friend. Not that this is the first time he's been caught like this. Not that this is the first time his best friend has found him like this.

“It was our only best option,” Orion tries to defend himself, his servo gently moving to your hips, holding you tightly. “Can't blame a bot for trying to blow off some steam here.”

A tired sigh comes from D-16 as he drops his work tool to the floor with a dull thud. “Then learn how to close the door first.”

Now, you immediately turn your gaze in your partner's direction, looking at him with obvious frustration.

“Orion!” you say indignantly. “Again?!”

“I thought I did-” he averts his gaze to the side, unable to look into your optics at the moment.

Wonderful, now both of his dearest people in the world want to kick him. Not that he wasn't used to it...at least not all at once!

“Okay, look,” Orion, sensing you slowly moving away from him in an attempt to maintain some decency, only presses your frame closer to his own. “I know you two are mad at me right now, but, I have an idea!”

This seems to catch the attention of both D-16 and you. Orion's blue optics run between the two of you, as if trying to catch your reactions. Seeing that you are silent and willing to listen, he continues.

"How about we slip off today's shift and instead spend some time over something more enjoyable than a 24-hour shift in the mines? Hmm?" a confident smirk on his face, after voicing his most ingenious solution.

And after a short pause, instead of the expected approval, you only start to argue more. Okay, not quite what was expected...

“Did Elita hit you too hard?”

“Of all the things you could say...”

“I don't understand why I even stayed here.”

Orion and his inability to keep his mouth shut. How could you even suggest such a thing! I mean, you're not even...that close to D-16. Sure, you're as familiar with him as any other miner, and certainly as Orion's partner, you're destined to be the ones pulling the bum out of all sorts of dangers. Of course, you'd be lying if you said you didn't find him at least a little attractive, but that still doesn't give Orion the right to suggest such things. Even if even your seemingly outraged speeches sounded less and less convincing by the second.

“Come on, Dee, don't pretend you've never thought about it, I've known you for more than one cycle,” Orion backs up his words by slapping your ass lightly, making you shudder in his servo. "And I'm sure she doesn’t mind either. Right?"

You look away as if out of shame, but to deny the obvious would be pointless. The traitorous silence from D-16 lets you know everything. Hate to admit it, but Orion's right. Hard to believe it has to be even said.

“If we get caught and demoted because of you, it'll be your fault, Pax,” D-16 mutters unhappily, shooting Orion a stern look. And yet, he quickly shortens the distance between the two of you.

D-16's touch seems rougher. His servos are larger, and he has no difficulty easily supporting your weight in his own servos. Despite this, his actions seem more inexperienced, the pads of his fingers gently stroking the inside of your thighs as if afraid to leave the slightest mark on them.

Orion's servos slide higher, stopping at your waist, giving enough room for his friend to join you. Carefully changing position, now with his back pressed against the cold wall behind him, you are presented before D-16 in all your beauty.

D-16's vibrant yellow optics linger on your body. You notice his optics widening briefly and quickly flicker over every contour of your frame. It's endearing, in a way.

You're used to praise and compliments about your looks from Orion, but something in his look full of admiration says a lot more beyond words.

“Don't stare so much, or you'll just stand like that all day,” Orion teases his friend, nudging him lightly by the shoulder.

“Hey, I'm not staring,” D-16 defends himself, quickly raising his gaze towards the other mech, anxiously trying to prove otherwise.

A quiet chuckle escapes Orion, and he only responds by rolling his optics. As if you can't tell the obvious from one look. His friend is so hopeless, unable to even hide his own feelings for the two of you. Good thing. What kind of best friend would Orion be if he didn't agree to...help?

Pressing you back against D-16's chassis, Orion gently rubs the tip of his spike against your inner walls, sending a pleasant shiver along your back. Primus, with all this going on, you hardly notice. He's still inside you, needing relief. Fortunately, there's no possible distraction at this moment. Not when you're sandwiched between them, with barely enough space to move.

You feel D-16 pushes insistently against your tight entrance from behind, barely wasting any time you have for now until your coworkers will find out about your little trip to the storage rooms.

“Just relax, we'll start slow at the beginning, yeah?” Orion rubs your waist in an attempt to get you to relax, glancing in D-16's direction.

It took a good few seconds for a response before the silver mech behind you could quietly mumble a “...y-yeah,” hiding his face against your shoulder, trying so desperately to contain his own neediness.

Reluctantly, Dee thrusts forward, his hips rocking as he begins to move, before halting his movements, giving both of you some time to adjust.

“Aggh...so tight,” you hear from behind, as D-16's hot, heavy breath fanning against the side of your face. The sensation alone makes you sigh softly, your optics closed tight.

You can feel every twitch, every ridge dragging along your sensitive walls as both mechs carefully slow thrust forward. Orion's servo reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your helm up to meet his own lips. Another muffled moan escapes you, and you instinctively press closer to Orion, trying not to go crazy with all the sensations you're feeling right now.

D-16's spike, already slick with lubricant, hits that one spot inside you, making you cry out into the kiss, arching your back to meet his movements. Orion slowly pulls away from the kiss, a thin stream of coolant running down his chin.

“Still want to leave, Dee?” Orion holds your face gently, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb, removing some of the coolant.

In response to this jab, D-16 only utters another groan, and through gritted teeth, snarls back at Orion with a stern, “Just shut up already...!”, causing the latter to smile a little. Primus, and not the slightest ���thank you’ is expected.

Heeding D-16's advice, Orion bucks his hips, pushing his spike deeper, to join D's. You can practically feel them both halted inside you, the tips of their spikes kissing each other against your stretched inner walls.

“Doing so, so well, love,” Orion praises between his heavy breaths, his grip on your chin tightened just a little, only to tilt your head up, exposing your neck to his lips. A soft, wet kisses and nips paint the sensitive metal of your throat, followed with a quiet murmur of words of encouragement from your lover. “You're the best thing to ever happen to us.”

You have no idea how, by some miracle, no one's heard you yet. You could swear that any bot that could walk past the storage room would probably have heard you long ago. The sickening sounds of metal against metal, the wet squelching of lubricant following along with your moans.

Your breathing becomes noticeably quicker, and judging by the slight shaking and twitches beside you, it's probably safe to say that neither of you will last much longer. You can barely keep your optics open, feeling that even if you closed your optics for a moment, you would hardly have the strength to open them again. The mere sensation of your walls tightening around their spikes was enough to trigger their overload.

Orion's grip on you tightened, holding you flush against him as his hips jerked forward one last time, and a moment later, you feel thick, hot ropes of lubricant coating the small of your back.

None of them seem to have any intention of letting you go at all. Orion's servo is still pressing you gently against him, while Dee is gently cradling you from behind. You rest your head on Orion's chassis, finally finding a quiet moment to rest. Slowly, the heat in your body begins to die down, and quite softly, your systems cool your heated frame.

Okay, maybe out of all Orion's ideas, not all of them are that terrible. But just for today.

Completely unnoticed by you, the doors to the storage room abruptly open, causing the three of you to jump up in surprise. To your great relief or regret, all you see in the doorway is the stern face of your squad leader, Elita One, who has just finished her shift in the mine.

Holding her work equipment at her side, you meet her face with nothing but disapproval and obvious irritation at what she has seen. Frag.

“Learn how to lock the doors,” she points at you, after a short pause. “Disgusting.”

Forget what I said.

[vagabond-umlaut]

Your Sukuna fic recs? pretty please? 🥺🥺

ofc nonnie! i nvr ever turn down an opportunity for showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect & attention! 😊😊🫶🫶

ryomen sukuna x reader fic recs (I)

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. ‣ that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters. enjoy reading! 🥰

⇌ Conquest (SukunaXReader) (series) by JellyBelly531 on ao3 [I can't say anything on this series here, except, to request you to read this— provided you're fine with the tags and warnings the author has given. This is an absolute delight for those who love Trueform!Sukuna set in a canon-y historical backdrop. A 200% masterpiece, I'm tellin' ya! :))]

⇌ Sukuna with reader whos just dumb (hcs) by @poe-daydreams on tumblr [Humor, Fluff, Humor, Fluff, Humor— Comedy at its finest :D]

⇌ rhymes (oneshot) by @tender-rosiey on tumblr [Tooth-rotting fluff ft. Dad!Sukuna and his adorably menacing attitude xDD]

⇌ Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna (hcs) by @yuujispinkhair on tumblr [Terrifying 'Kuna + Charming 'Kuna + Protective 'Kuna + Soft 'Kuna + Husband 'Kuna + Dad 'Kuna— what more do you need, hmmm? ^_^]

⇌ Black Magic (twoshot) by sukirichi on ao3 [Arranged Marriage with Enemies-to-Lovers dynamics and Scary™️ Househusband 'Kuna— an ALL TIME FAVOURITE FIC of mine, for sure ^_^]

⇌ Little Monster (oneshot belonging to a series) by @lemonlover1110 on tumblr [A sweet combination of the tropes: Dad!Sukuna & Sukuna being Sukuna. I really love the way 'Kuna is in-character in this fic :))]

⇌ to satiate, seduce, and to sin. (oneshot) by @poe-daydreams on tumblr [For the twisted-yet-loving!Sukuna fuckers lovers like me ;)]

⇌ To the end (7 chapters) by @yuujispinkhair on tumblr [One Of THE very best Zombie Apocalypse AUs I've ever read. Please keep tissues close to you for the sad tears, then the happy tears. I ugly-cried while reading this, no kidding :))]

⇌ 7/11 (oneshot) by astreaborn on ao3 [Perfect way to lift your spirits, if you're ever feeling down. The characterizations are so well written... Just go read it, please. You will not regret it— I'm 10^10 times sure of this!! :))]

⇌ "make me (yours)." (oneshot) by @ancient-vivarium on tumblr [Age gap romance with rich older bf!Sukuna, ft. slow burn, fluff and SPICE— this is what one should call GIRL BREAKFAST, LUNCH & DINNER! ;DD]

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart Master List

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Update Tracker

Started: 5/18/24

Last Updated: 5/21/25

Total Works: 58

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Note: My Blog is A18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Regulations:

✅ Age in bio!! This is an adults only blog and content warnings will be set as such.

💌 Requests are open, but not guaranteed.

🙏 Please do not trauma dump in my inbox. I am not a mental health professional or a mental health focused blog. I just write little fics that I hope make you smile!

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Red's Upcoming Fics | A Vague Calendar

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Red's One Shot Stop Shop 💋 Masterlist

A collection of my shorter bite-sized fics for your enjoyment. Smutty!! All characters are consenting adults. MDNI.

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Red's Longer Fics

My Hero Academia

Fluff/Lemon 🍋

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Shinsou x Reader | Headcannon: How Hitoshi Shinsou Kisses 💋

Boyfriend Hitoshi Shinsou Takes Care Of You | Hitoshi x Y/N

Playing Catch Up | Hitoshi Shinsou x Y/N Fluff

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

🦈❤️Boyfriend!Kirishima ❤️🦈

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie | Part 1: The Convenience Store

Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima

Headcannon: Kirishima LOVES wearing Bakugo's clothes.

Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki

Shoto's Got a Hot Date

Katsuki Bakugo x Izuku Midoriya

BakuDeku | A Rainy Day Together ☔️💚💥

Pining Katsuki | BKDK Headcannon 💚💥

BakuDeku Secret Love Codes | Secret Relationship Head Cannon

BakuDeku First Kiss in the Tunnel of Love 💋

Alone in the Janitor's Closet | BKDK One Shot | BakuDeku 💚💥

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Izuku x Reader | Headcannon: How Izuku Kisses 💋

Dabi x Hawks

And then he meets Keigo.

DabiHawks Rainy Day Together ☔️

Hawks x Reader

🦅❤️Boyfriend!Hawks❤️🦅

Hawks x Reader Imagine

Cozy and Safe | Hawks x Reader Fluff ❤️

Shōta Aizawa x Shirakumo

Aizawa's First Kiss | Shota Aizawa x Oboro Shirakumo

Shōta Aizawa x Reader

Shota Aizawa x Co-Worker Reader | Imagine

Hanta Sero x Reader

Sero As Your BF | Hanta Sero x Reader 💕

MHA Guys x Reader

✨The MHA Boys Go To The Eras Tour With You✨

Smut 💋🌶

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Kirishima gives Todoroki S*x Tips | Todoroki x Reader Fic

Shoto Discovers He Has A Daddy Kink | Shoto x Reader

Movie Date 💕 | Shoto Todoroki x Reader

All Wrapped Up In a Bow 🎄❤️ | Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

Part 9: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 9

*Bonus Chapter* Iida Plays Spin The Bottle < Not Cannon >

Related Post: Shoto's First Kiss Timeline Brainstorm

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Izuku Midoriya x Reader | Headcannon: Your First Time Together

Izuku Midoriya x Katsuki Bakugo

BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala

Beneath the Bookshelves | BakuDeku

Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima

How to Suck Your Best Friend’s D*ck 🍆💋

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Never Too Tired To Love You💜

Guilty As Sin. | An Angsty AF Fic

I Wanna F*ck My Best Friend Series:

Part 1: Just Name The Time And Place

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Hawks x Reader

Hawks x Y/N | Doggy Style

Hawks x Y/N | A Friday Night Between Your Thighs 💋

Hero Office Quickie | Hawks x Reader 💋

Endeavor x Hawks

Endeavor x Hawks | Steamy in the Shower | Part One 💋

Endeavor x Hawks | Steamy in the Shower | Part Two 💋

Dabi x Hawks

Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks 🌶🔥🦅

Like A Moth To Flame | Dabi x Hawks

Photo Booth Slurp | DabiHawks Smut 💋

Dabi x Reader

Unexpected Flames | Dabi/Touya x Reader

Staples. | Dabi/Touya x Reader 🔥🔞

Game On. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

The Locker Room Horizontal Tango. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

A Soft Place to Land | Aizawa x Reader 💕

Vulnerable. | Shouta Aizawa x Reader

MHA Guys x Reader

How The MHA Guys Act When They Realize They Don't Have a Condom 💋

Ojiro x Hagakure

Ojiro Gets a BBL | Crack Fic <- Legit my worst written work

[leqonsluv3r]

Hello Queen Bee :) Your blog is awesome and Leon is BAE! :D

If you're still taking requests, can I please request headcanons for RE2!Leon falling in love with an older female cop who's of a higher rank (Sergeant or above) and confessing his feelings to her after he saves her from being attacked by a suspect?

guilty as sin?

—re!2!rookie leon kennedy x sergeant!cop reader, a headcanon list 

masterlist taglist prompt game

an: sorry i’ve been so MIA, i suck balls ik. i love you all though for being patient and loving me anyways. this shit was so sweet to write it gave me diabetes ngl. pls reblog and like, yk the drill pookies <333

rookie!leon who notices you the first day at his police academy training, he doesn’t notice that you seem him staring. you think it’s endearing and it’s been a while since anyone has looked at you like that. you decide to let him stare, what’s the worst that can happen?

rookie!leon who enjoys the way you always bite your lips when your worried, when your trying to have a debriefing, he knows your probably worried because of all the pressure that’s on you. but he always makes sure to give you his undivided attention and respect. it’s the best he can give you. for now.

rookie!leon who makes sure your doing okay when you work late hours, he always stops by your office to check on you. sometimes you let him come into your office, sit with you, talk a bit. something about the passion for the job in his eyes, it puts you at ease, makes you feel better. like being a sergeant was worth it at the end of the day.

rookie!leon who tries to make sure he has no problems with issuing complaints to you. he doesn’t like putting more stress on your shoulders but it’s the least he can do, you have a big and stressful job. he just wants to make it easier for you. even if it’s only a little bit.

rookie!leon who tries to deny after four months that he has feelings for his sergeant, he knows he shouldn’t. he knows you probably don’t feel the same way. but after months of getting to know you and being close to you…it was so hard but it was equally as rewarding at the same time.

rookie!leon who goes on his own patrol for the day, hearing over the radio that your taking a 10-64 (a crime in progress) which wasn’t unusual for you as a sergeant. but still, he worried even though he shouldn’t. he knew you were a strong and capable person but things still happened, things that weren’t always in your control.

rookie!leon who hears you call for backup when he stops for gas. you barely ever called for backup, but he jumped in his car as fast as he could (like he normally would’ve for anyone else) and copied on the radio. he had never driven so fast in his life with his sirens on and weaving in and out of cars like his life depended on it.

rookie!leon who makes it there, but it’s too late. you’ve been shot in the shoulder, kicked and beaten like you had gotten into a fight. he calls for EMTs and medical, holding your beaten body close to him. your in and out of it, trying to stay awake and leon does what he can. he even tries to crack those corny jokes that you swore you hated.

rookie!leon who holds your hand when the paramedics come, you hold it back with whatever strength you have left. despite the situation and the immense worry he has for you right now; his stomach flutters. he would jump in front of a bullet for you, he has a feeling you would do the same.

rookie!leon who helps you recover and heal, offering to stay with you on leave while your shoulder and bruised ribs heal. offering to do whatever and help as much as he can, he swears he’s not in love with you, but…he can’t fight the truth much longer and neither can you.

rookie!leon who rubs your back and plays with your hair when your sleeping on your couch, it’s a miracle you finally got into a comfortable position. it’s weird to think that your his sergeant, that he’s supposed to be at your beck and call but your not even strong enough to lift your shoulders. he doesn’t mind, he swears it’s platonic despite the butterflies that swarm his stomach when your around.

rookie!leon who takes you to your chiropractor and your physical therapist, desperate to help you heal. he needs you to be better again so that he can be better again, he needs that more then he needs air (he believes).

rookie!leon who keeps trying to deny it, same as you, that you both have fallen in love with each other. so when he invites you over for dinner, making his famous pasta (it’s really spaghetti), your thrilled and you accept. he’s convinced that he’s doing all this because you’re better and because your healing. but that’s his mind just trying to deny what his heart wants.

rookie!leon who cooks the dinner, watching as you arrive maybe an hour later in a beautiful little sundress. he’s never seen you dress that way, it brings color to his cheeks and makes his heart race. he doesn’t know how to react or even think straight. the scar on your shoulder from the attack is healing, reminding him that your brave and that you survived something terrible. but despite all that, your still here with him.

rookie!leon who serves you both dinner in his tiny apartment kitchen, serving you both wine and spaghetti. he tries to fight down the butterflies long enough to eat the food he spent so long on. but it’s impossible with you smiling at him like that across his small table, your eyelashes fluttering and your face cast in a warm glow. he feels so damn lucky right now to just be in your presence. even if your not aware of it.

rookie!leon who manages to eat, making small talk with you and laughing at your jokes. but when you laugh at his, he feels like the entire earth has been tilted in an axis. he’s so happy, so in love with you and it sucks because he knows you don’t feel the same. you couldn’t feel the same, your his superior, his boss.

rookie!leon who is oblivious to your touches on his arm and the way your looking at him like you want to eat him alive. he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, the sweetest man you’ve ever let into your life and you feel like your heart could escape your chest whenever you look at him. especially now, when he’s talking so adamantly about his passions and things he enjoys outside of the station. it’s like he’s coming to life in front of you in a way you’ve never seen before. and it makes your heart palpitate.

rookie!leon who doesn’t stop you when you move his small little chair closer to his at his tiny kitchen table, sipping on your wine and keeping eye contact with him. your just listening to him talk, share his story and his life, something that hasn’t happened yet.

rookie!leon who swallows when you lean in and press a kiss to his lips, his brain freezing and whatever stupid story he was telling dying in his mouth. he has a more important matter because your lips are touching his. they’re soft, they’re moving slowly and gently against his like pillows. he doesn’t know if he can get his brain working fast enough to kiss you back.

rookie!leon who kisses you back a little when you try to pull away, his hand gently coming up to hold your jaw as he moves his lips against yours. his brain and his heart cheering in succession that he’s finally getting something he desires and deserves.

rookie!leon who flushes after you both pull away from the kiss, not quite knowing how to react. your both adults here but the situation causes both of your cheeks to heat up like little kids with crushes. he has no choice but to confess his feelings, explaining things carefully incase you regretted the kiss. he just doesn’t want to have his heartbroken again, he wants you, he needs you. he’s convinced.

rookie!leon who is shocked when you confess that you feel the same, your hand moving to hold his and sooth his worries. the doubts circling his mind like water down the drain. he doesn’t mind now, now he’s got nothing to worry about now that your here. now that your telling him you feel the same. he swears he could die happy.

rookie!leon who makes it official with you two weeks after the dinner. taking you out on an official date. you both go to dinner and he drives you home. another kiss is shared on your front porch, not the first but the second and it’s even sweeter. leon is convinced he could never get tired of kissing you.

rookie!leon who’s not really a rookie anymore, after five years. he’s made a name for himself at the RPD with you by his side. the only difference now is that you both wear rings to signify your love and your carrying his child. he got what he deserved and what he wanted most and he swears that life with you is the best it could get. and he can’t wait for the rest of it.

[sugar-petals]

Hi caro 🌹, following what you said in your previous post , you mentioned that Tom hardy is a soft type which I agree on and I get a feeling that he might be a soft natural too cause suits look like they're floating and they don't sit right on his body like what u said for Aaron taylor-johnson is . Emily browning is another case , I strongly believe she's a romantic or at the very least soft gamine . I like seeing them stand next to eachother in this movie ( the softness in their features and them being rahuvians in astrology make them complement eachother pretty well ! ) ( I want to add them to your list of couples so bad lol) thanks and have a swell day ☀️

emily browning is so yin! apple cheeks, full lips, rounded eyes, wavy wispy hair, soft jawline... naturals really do seem to come cast/coupled/teamed/shipped with romantic types frequently.

in a modern plot, the Natural is often painted as the active, Romantic as the passive part, until the roles switch; N is the facilitator for R to live their life how they please. "everything everything" in a nutshell: amandla stenberg = pure R, nick robinson = SN.

"love, simon" had picture-perfect N type clothing for nick, as if the costume department knew his kibbe ID. i think that's one of the reasons it blew up. jeans fabric, fleece, regular shirts, slightly longer but less sleek hair, casual > overstyling.

very subtly done, with soft lighting. which suits R, C, and N very well (DC is the exception, they are film noir). harsh lighting benefits sharp yang types on the other hand, so the G and D categories (SG as the exception, they are too yin), think eva green in sin city, the shadows of the blinds mimic her angular bones, creating harmony. she's been typed as D, SD, and TR, but in any case, she has yang bones. what do y'all think her type is? she is 5´7.

FN -TR with swapped expectations seems to be THE popular couple trope, btw. TR the strong, dominant, loveless, and hardened one, and FN the naively helpless romantic who's clumsy, shy, and often the sexualized part, even if we suspected it would be the TR! and they still have a hilarious height and size difference. FN is tall and burly, TR narrow and curvy. so, disney's hercules.

the D - G pairing axis tends to be a little edgier. especially as D is frequently a villain, contrarian, or antihero role, and G is the toiling protagonist on the hero's journey or the comedic relief. as soon as the "N with R, D with G" formula is broken, as "N with G, D with R", the couple is bittersweet, like katniss and peeta.

bonus: tom hardy has the typical "sharp shoulder sitting on top of nothing" menswear syndrome there: angled suits are for angled, pointy bones. naturals are too blunt-edged. that's why all of his well-known roles have character designs that sew the shoulders rounded, no pads, no classic construction.

[sashi-ya]

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

THE ORIGINAL SIN 🐙 PORTGAS D ACE X STEPSIS! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 3: STEPCEST

🐙requested by: @votaeto :sashii thank you for the opportunity! I’m so excited for this year’s kinktober xD since it’s on the list 🤭 can I request Ace + day 3 with Fem Reader pleasee? 🫶🏻💗 thank youuu ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. ⚠️ stepcest ⚠️. they do not share blood tights, however it is intended to be "dark" and twisted. they use "brother" and "sister". masturbation. vag. explicit, twisted thoughts. You've been warned. 🐙wc: 960 // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

“You understand this is not ok, Ace?” “I don’t care, I need you… I’m desperate, (Name)”

In fact, Ace isn’t lying; he is truly desperate. Watching you come out of the jacuzzi, with that tiny bikini, made him severely needy. Watching your breasts bounce beautifully as the wind hit your wet body, made him even more thirsty.

Once; just once. That happened months ago… both drunk, after that party you shouldn’t have gone. Something that shouldn’t have happened, happened. Alcohol finally erased every limit, and the step siblings condition became non important. Since that very night, Ace hasn’t been able to stop lusting for you… and neither do you.

His hands surround your waist, both skins wet and warm getting colder with the breeze of a mountain night. Ace pulls you closer; it’s late, very late.

“Our parents will hear us, Ace” you whisper, looking at the cabin a few meters from where you are. However, your body can’t -and wont- walk away from his.

“They won’t, they are passed out sleeping…” he insists, of course he is not remotely sure, but nothing could beat the desire of touching, of devouring your whole being. Insides burn like a wildfire, like made of flames, when his lips crash against yours.

Ace kisses you with that type of kiss that leaves you both breathless, the type that forces him to moan and pant during it.

You can feel the bulge on his black swim shorts, the flames around the lower hem can only describe exactly how his crotch feels right now.

Craving more, he humps softly against your bikini bottom, like a dog even. “Come on…” he murmurs, in between panting and accelerated breathing.

You, who have lost all composure, and have surrendered to carnal instincts, follow your step brother like a moth to the fire…

You both run to a tiny, little cabin where the gardening and pool maintenance stuff is stored; an old mattress that is rarely used, only when someone else comes to your family vacation house, will be useful for the night. Two lovers, indulging in a sin that’s considered… unnatural, sick and even to some, twisted.

The moment Ace closes the door with a violent slam, he immediately attacks your breasts. Before he could even take off the wet triangles of fabric that were covering them, he enjoys how hard and protruding your nipples look underneath your bikini.

Index and middle finger placed on top of one of them, begin tracing circles that make you gasp. He knows, exactly, how you like it or maybe, he is just an expert…

Ace’s freckled cheeks turn red when you return the pleasuring favour, and as he keeps playing with your nipples, your hand slides down his bulge. A soft caress that goes up and down, sometimes rest on top of the hardest part of it… his tip, unequivocally, of course.

“Ngh…” he moans; Ace is definitely more than sensitive. A mere touch may be enough to make him cum.

“You like it… brother? Mhh?” you purr, with your lips sloppily touching his ear. The black wavy locks tickles your nose, and the scent of his skin sends you to heaven.

Ace’s hips swing the more you play with his sex, and tempted by such motion, your hand finally slides in between the wet shorts and his nudity. You grab his sex, right in between your fingers, and even though you were ready to start pumping, it is Ace who start fucking your hand… oh naughty, desperate boy ~

He is probably not aware, but he keeps going, feeling hugged by the warmth of your palm. And as he does, he finally moves your bikini top aside, exposing you completely to him… to his lips and tongue. Sucking and biting, with a hand that squeezes, and the other sliding down to untie the knot that holds your bikini bottom up, he slowly but surely makes you weaker and weaker.

“A-Ace…” you whine, once again, closer to his ear. It makes him go crazy, perhaps as much as your lips around his dick may.

“Yes… sister?” he indulges in such term, even though you don’t share blood tights, both were raised as if you did… and perhaps, it exactly is, what makes it even hotter for him, for you… how perverted, how dirty and forbidden this all is. You shiver.

Sister, yes, I am. And still, I want you to fuck me. I want you to use my body. I want you to touch, to lick, to taste, to even impregnate me.

“Fuck me, brother…” you plead. “Yes, my sweet sister” he insists, pushing you against the bare mattress.

Ace quickly takes his shorts off; fortunately, there is nothing but drops of the jacuzzi water on his chest. Abs that spasm, so well trained, with a sun kissed skin.

He kneels in between your legs, slapping them softly to the sides to spread them. Your muscles, trembling, sloppily fall to each side. A soft breeze cools your sex, wet because of your bikini bottoms but mostly from your fluids.

Your freckled step brother gloats at the image of your femininity blooming like a flower, deliciously dripping the sweet honeys of arousal.

He could have fingered you; he could have eaten you up… but he couldn’t resist as his twitching, precum drizzling dick, ached to be buried inside the warmth of your folds.

A flame burning hotter than the fire itself, calling him to get burnt in a much more twisted version of the original sin…

The first ram, and your arched back. The next one, and your toes curled. A third one, and your nails carved in the flesh of his back…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “This is so wrong, brother…” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “But we like it so much, sister…”

Taglist of amazing babes: @terrabear2003 @eyes-ofhell @cokou @seoul-is-a-dream @tinydonkeysforlife @appalost @themessedupsonata @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Klaus and Marcel hit a dead end searching for your killer. Until Cami offers a fresh perspective that could change everything. Kol uncovers a spell that might resurrect you, but the cost is steep. And centuries ago, under starlit skies, you surrender to a forbidden night with Elijah, binding your fate to his in ways that transcend time.

♡♡ It's finally time for some smuttt, ~ xoxo {Here is my playlist for the vibes} ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, first time, a bit of drinking, lots of religious talk, stargazing, so much sinning, Kol being Kol, Cami trying to help, a bonfire, dried fruit & magic mushrooms...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

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It was almost the end of Cami's shift when Klaus and Marcel walked into Rousseau's, the former looking unusually grim. Cami was used to seeing them bickering and bantering, but the atmosphere between the two was tense and charged. They sat down at the far end of the bar, and Marcel leaned over, grabbing a bottle and two glasses, pouring the drinks with an air of forced casualness. Klaus sat with his shoulders slumped, a frown creasing his brow, his fingers tapping anxiously against the countertop.

"You have to pay for that," Cami pointed out, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her hands busy cleaning glasses.

Neither of them smiled back, their expressions serious, and the smile faded from her face. "Okay, what's going on?" she asked, setting the glass down and walking over, her gaze shifting between them.

Marcel hesitated, exchanging a glance with Klaus, before sighing. "It's about Elijah," he said finally, his voice low.

"How is he?" she asked, concern coloring her tone. He had been seeped in grief since your death, and it was hard to see him like that.

"Not well," Marcel replied, rubbing his temples.

Klaus’s hand wrapped around his drink, his knuckles turning white. "He won’t speak, eat, drink," he said, his voice rough, his anger barely contained. "All he does is sit by the window, staring into space."

"Can you blame him?" Cami asked softly, her expression mirroring the grief in her voice. You had been a light in the family, always finding ways to bring them together, and she missed you, too.

"No," Klaus growled, taking a large gulp of his drink. He set it down so hard that tiny cracks formed on the surface of the bar. "That’s why I have to find who did this."

Cami nodded, looking at Marcel. "Any leads?"

Marcel shook his head, an edge of frustration in his voice. "Nothing. All of my connections… they’re either too afraid to talk, or Elijah already found them first." He hesitated, then added, "Including every last member of the Strix."

Cami’s eyes widened, the full weight of the statement sinking in. "He killed… all of them?"

Marcel nodded. "Anyone he thought might be involved, he left dead. Half of them didn’t even know her name."

Klaus slammed his hand down on the counter, anger sparking again. "This is unacceptable," he hissed. "We have nothing but Elijah’s trail of bodies. It’s like the killer is a ghost… we don’t even have a description, not even a name."

"So… no witnesses, no surveillance," Cami muttered, trying to think.

"No magical trace, no scent," Klaus added, his voice filled with frustration.

Cami tapped her fingers against the bar, her brow furrowing as an idea formed in her mind. She braced herself, knowing Klaus wouldn't like it but deciding to speak up anyway. "What if… what if it wasn’t a member of the supernatural community?"

Klaus turned, his gaze darkening. "Cami… she died with a stake in her chest."

"So? I didn’t say they didn’t know about the supernatural, just that they might not be part of it," she countered, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze.

Klaus sighed, leaning back in his seat. "They broke her bones, Camille. All of them," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "A human couldn’t do that."

"A group of humans could," Cami replied, her gaze flickering between the two vampires. Neither looked convinced.

"Why would humans target her?" Marcel asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

"Why not?" She shot back, her eyes narrowing. "You feed and kill a lot of humans, Marcel. Maybe someone got revenge."

Marcel flinched, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

Klaus’s jaw tensed, his fingers tightening around his glass. "But why her?" he said quietly, his voice low and strained. "Why not go after me, or one of the others?"

"Maybe because she was the weakest link," Cami said gently, hating how it sounded even as she spoke.

Marcel sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It’s… not a terrible theory, Cami. Especially if we’re dealing with someone who had something personal against her."

Klaus's gaze shifted, staring into the distance, his expression troubled. "We’re missing a piece of the puzzle. I just know it," he muttered, his voice distant.

"Well, there is another option," Cami said quietly, an idea flashing into her mind.

Klaus turned, his eyes meeting hers with a slight challenge in them. "And what would that be, love?"

"Go to the police?" she suggested, her voice firm despite the tension in the air.

"What?" Marcel and Klaus blurted out, identical expressions of confusion and shock on their faces. Klaus began to laugh, his entire body shaking with mirth. "You’re hilarious, Camille," he gasped, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"No, no, I’m not joking," she retorted, her expression unflinching. "You could talk to the police, tell them that your sister-in-law was killed. You could offer a reward, get them to really investigate."

Klaus and Marcel exchanged glances, neither looking keen.

"And what can they find that we can’t?" Klaus asked, his expression souring.

"Forensic evidence," Cami said immediately. "Traces that can lead them to the killer."

"And then what? They go to prison?" Klaus chuckled, shaking his head.

"If they’re human, yes," Cami replied firmly, crossing her arms.

"And if it’s not a human? How will the police catch a vampire or a witch?" Klaus challenged, his brow arching in skepticism.

"They won’t," Cami admitted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "But it's worth a shot?”

Klaus shook his head, his tone brooking no argument. "Absolutely not."

"Niklaus…" Marcel began, his voice trailing off when he caught sight of the fury in Klaus’s gaze.

"The only thing the police will do is get in the way," Klaus said, his voice cold and final.

"In the way of what? You aren’t doing anything," Cami shot back, her own temper rising. "Sitting here drinking and wallowing isn’t going to find who killed her."

Klaus rose to his full height, his anger flaring, casting an intense shadow over the dim bar lighting.

"Woah, woah, relax," Marcel interjected, sensing a fight brewing. "We are not getting anywhere arguing."

Klaus sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You can try it your way, Camille. Go tell the cops," he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

"And you can go do whatever it is you do," Cami shot back, grabbing her phone from her pocket and speed-dialing the number.

Klaus watched her walk away, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, before turning to Marcel. "Have someone tail her. If she gets in over her head, intervene."

"What are you going to do?" Marcel asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Finish this bottle, then that one over there… and possibly that one," he said, gesturing toward the collection of bottles behind the bar.

Marcel sighed, lifting his glass and clinking it against Klaus’s. "You can count me in."

13th Century Europe

As soon as the sun began to set, you climbed out of your window, heart pounding as you crossed the convent grounds and took the path leading to the forest. Shadows stretched over the path, but you kept moving, quickening your pace to ease your nerves. You were going to meet Elijah, the thought filling you with both a heady thrill and a quiver of fear.

Ever since the day in the field, when he had kissed you, and you had kissed him back, everything had changed. He had begun attending church, sitting near the back during Mass, his dark eyes meeting yours, his gaze a gentle, knowing promise. After the service, he would linger, waiting until the others had left, stealing quiet moments with you, his hand brushing yours, his soft words dissolving your willpower. The guilt weighed on you, but the pleasure, the anticipation… it was overpowering.

Tonight was different. Tonight, you would meet away from prying eyes and listening ears, beyond the convent walls. The trees loomed before you, their branches dark and skeletal against the fading twilight. You took a shaky breath, then heard soft footsteps from behind. You turned to see Elijah stepping out from the shadows, his gaze warm and intense.

"I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind,” he murmured, his words wrapped in mischief.

“Maybe I should have,” you replied, a blush warming your cheeks.

He chuckled softly, the sound curling through you like smoke. “Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand. Without hesitation, you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you deeper into the forest. The last of the sun’s light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the earth.

The excitement fluttered in your chest, but as you glanced back toward the convent, doubt slipped in, and you resisted the urge to cross yourself. As the night deepened, you reached a small clearing where moonlight streamed through the branches, illuminating the grass in silvery light.

“This is beautiful,” you breathed, looking up at the stars. They seemed brighter than ever, as if they had appeared just for you.

He nodded, pulling a blanket from his bag and laying it on the ground. He sat down, patting the space beside him, his hand beckoning you.

You sank down next to him, the warmth of his body soothing, calming the flutter of anxiety within you.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your temple. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you replied, letting out a long breath, the tension leaving your body.

"Good," he murmured, his fingers trailing along your arm.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his skin against yours. "I can't believe we're doing this," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Doing what?"

"Sneaking out," you said, smiling shyly.

"There's no sin in two people spending time together," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

“But there is a reason we’re hiding,” you replied softly, thoughts of the convent creeping in. “If the villagers knew…if Mother Mathilde knew…”

“Then let them know,” he murmured, though his tone turned more serious. “Life’s blessings should not be squandered in fear. Sometimes, it’s worth the risk.”

You thought of the sermons, the warnings, the fear of losing God’s favor. Yet, as you looked into Elijah’s eyes, something inside you rebelled, a longing to believe that this closeness, this love, was a blessing. 

You distracted your trembling hands by digging inside your bag, pulling out some dried fruit, cheese, some wine you borrowed from the church, and a special treat you'd been saving. Elijah chuckled as he watched you lay the food out, a grin on his face.

"What?" You asked, blushing.

"You brought all of this?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," you said, the flush in your cheeks deepening.

Elijah took a piece of dried apple, chewing it thoughtfully. "What is that?" he teased, pointing at some dried mushroom caps.

"Special mushrooms," you replied, your heart pounding. "They make everything feel more...real,"

"Oh, really?" Elijah asked, a playful smile spreading across his face, "Show me,"

Your hand shook slightly as you took a piece, placing it on his tongue. He closed his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, a hint of a smirk on his face.

You took another piece, placing it in your own mouth, the earthy taste filling your senses. You chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through your body.

"And the church allows this?" he asked.

You shook your head. "They would be furious if they knew,"

"So it's a sin to eat these?" He teased, popping another one in his mouth.

"I think it brings me closer to God," you said, smiling.

"Mmm," he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps."

"Well?" You asked, the suspense too much to bear.

He swallowed, his gaze meeting yours. "Interesting," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.

You smiled, relieved that he seemed to like them. "Try the wine,"

He took the bottle, uncorking it and taking a long swig. "Not bad," he said, handing it back to you.

You took a drink, the sweetness coating your tongue, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins. The cold night air seemed to fade, replaced by a feeling of contentment.

You ate the rest of the food, the conversation flowing easily. You told him stories of the convent, the sisters, and your childhood. The world around you becoming a bit hazy, the trees moving with the wind, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the forest floor.

Elijah was a good listener, his eyes never leaving yours. He was charming and witty, his humor making you laugh, his presence making you feel safe.

As the night wore on, the wine and the mushrooms made you feel bolder, loosening your inhibitions. You were lying on the blanket, looking up at the stars, the night air cool against your skin. You curled up against him, feeling his warmth as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Being with you, it feels right," you confessed, tracing patterns on his chest.

He hummed in agreement, his arm tightening around you.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, the sense of connection. It was a feeling unlike any other, one that filled you with a deep contentment, a peace you had never known before. You had searched for this feeling in God for so long, but it was Elijah who had given it to you.

"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing at a cluster of stars. "It's the great bear, it holds the brightest star in the sky,"

You smiled, watching the constellation, the stars seeming to dance across the sky. "Tell me more," you said, nestling closer.

"It’s a protector, a guardian watching over us.” His gaze lingered on the constellation, his expression distant.

You watched him, captivated by his words, by the passion in his voice.

"I used to look at the stars when I was a boy," he said, his voice soft. "My mother taught me their names, and their stories. I would sit with her for hours, listening as she told me tales of gods and heroes, of quests and battles."

"How very pagan of you," you teased.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I suppose so," he mused.

You glanced up at him, seeing a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "Where is she now?"

"Dead," he said simply, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, a wave of sadness washing over you.

"It was a long time ago," he replied, his tone detached.

You sat in silence for a moment, the air heavy with sadness and regret. You had no family, none that you remembered, that pain had been dulled by the passing years. But his felt raw, still fresh.

He looked at you, a sad smile on his face. "I didn't come here to burden you with my sorrows,"

"It's not a burden," you protested, shifting to meet his gaze.

He smiled, the sadness fading. "Perhaps not," he murmured.

You began to shiver as the night grew colder, the thin fabric of your habit doing little to protect you from the elements. Elijah noticed, pulling off his cloak and draping it over your shoulders. The warmth of his body lingered on the fabric, his scent enveloping you.

"I'll build a fire," he said, rising to his feet.

You watched as he gathered the materials, his movements quick and efficient. You marveled at his skill, the ease with which he created the flame, the flames dancing across the dry leaves.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see?" You asked, worried about the smoke and the light.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No," he replied, settling down beside you.

You felt the warmth of the flames, the cold night air forgotten. You looked up, seeing the stars again, the constellations shimmering above.

"I wonder what the stars are made of," you mused, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

"Hmm, perhaps the same things as we are," he said softly.

"Flesh and blood and bone?"

"Yes, and water and air,"

You nodded, a thoughtful expression on your face. "Do you think God is a star?"

He laughed, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "Perhaps, it's a pleasant thought, isn't it?"

"Mmm, to think of him looking down on us, guiding us," you sighed, a contented smile on your face.

Elijah smiled, a melancholy look in his eyes. "That would be a nice thought indeed."

The two of you lapsed into silence, the fire crackling, the air thick with the scent of wood smoke. You sat curled up together, watching the stars and enjoying the night.

"Will you tell me a story?" You asked, glancing up at him.

He smiled, a look of surprise on his face. "A story?"

"Yes, like the ones you used to hear, about the star gods," you pressed, eager to learn more about him.

He chuckled and got to his feet, walking over to the fire and stoking it, sending sparks dancing into the night.

"There once was a great goddess, with many mortal children, who she loved with all her heart. But one day, one of her mortal children died at the hands of a beast, and the goddess was filled with grief. She set out to avenge her child, and in her grief she created a weapon, a blade that could cut through the very fabric of the universe."

You watched him, enthralled by his voice, by the story he was telling.

"With this blade she wanted to protect her children, but instead, she ended up dooming them. The goddess stole her children from death and sold them to time, who is far less merciful,"

He paused, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

"Now those children walk the earth, forever tormented by the knowledge that they will never die, and by the guilt of having brought so much suffering into the world."

You sat in silence for a while, the fire casting shadows on the trees, the only sound the crackling of the flames. You thought about his story, the weight of immortality, the price of defying death.

"Does it frighten you, the thought of an endless existence?" He asked, his gaze locking with yours.

"Yes," you admitted, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

"It frightens me too," he said, a grim smile on his face.

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

"I've never heard a story like that before," you said finally, your voice barely a whisper.

He gave you a faint smile. "It's an old legend, from my homeland,"

"What happened to the goddess? Is she still out there, somewhere?" You asked, curious.

He sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. "She was banished, forced to watch the earth from an empty place, an eternity of loneliness. Despair her punishment."

"That's awful," you murmured, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you.

"That's the fate of anyone who defies death," he said, his voice low and solemn.

You reached out your hand, beckoning him closer, the distance between you unbearable. He sat back down on the blanket and wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body soothing, the feel of his breath on your cheek comforting. You looked into his eyes, the dark, mysterious depths drawing you in, the flames flickering.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his fingers caressing your cheek. "Death will never touch you,"

"That isn't what I'm afraid of," you confessed, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "It's the idea of a life without you that scares me."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Then we'll just have to make sure that never happens."

You laughed, the sound a mixture of joy and relief. Then you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, the firelight casting shadows on the trees, the wind rustling the leaves.

You lost track of time, lost in the moment, in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace. It felt like a dream, the flickering flames, the gentle breeze, the stars twinkling above. But it was real, and in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be. And what you wanted was pleasure.

"Touch me," you whispered, pressing your body against his.

"What would God say?" he murmured, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's find out," you breathed, kissing him again, the fire burning hotter, the night growing darker.

He pushed you gently onto your back, the blanket soft beneath you, the bright night sky above. His lips trailed down your neck, his fingers slipping beneath your habit, teasing the skin of your thighs. You arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips, desire pooling in your core.

He pulled away, his gaze burning into yours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you gasped, desperate for him, for his touch, for the release only he could give you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice strained, the desire clear in his eyes.

"You won't," you promised, tugging at the laces of his tunic, aching to feel his skin against yours.

"But you are an innocent," he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips. "I do not wish for you to regret this, not with me."

You cupped his cheek,"I will never regret being with you," you whispered, your thumb caressing his lower lip. "Never,"

He gazed at you for a moment, then bent down, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. Then he pulled back, removing his tunic, his body bathed in moonlight. Your breath caught in your throat and you reached out, running your hands over his chest, his skin smooth and warm.

He tugged at the hem of your habit, his gaze locking with yours. "May I?"

"Yes," you whispered, lifting your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool night air.

He tossed the garment aside, his eyes roaming over your body, a hungry expression on his face. "You are so beautiful,"

"So are you," you replied, drinking in the sight of him, the lean muscle of his torso, the planes of his chest, the strength in his arms.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand trailing down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He slipped his fingers inside your undergarments, finding your most sensitive place, his touch setting every nerve alight.

Why must sin feel so good? Did God give us this chance to feel pleasure just so we could resist temptation, or did He create our bodies so we could enjoy it? This felt like the latter, the way your body was reacting, the pleasure building with each stroke of his finger.

You moaned, clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. He pulled away, his breathing ragged, his eyes filled with desire. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," you whispered, pressing against him, craving his touch, his closeness.

"Very well," he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, the look on his face making your heart race.

He shifted, sliding his hand down your body, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your undergarments, pulling them slowly down your legs. You blushed, the realization that you were naked in front of him, the vulnerability causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

He placed his hand on your inner thigh, his fingers parting the damp curls, his thumb circling your swollen nub, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, the feeling unlike anything you'd experienced before.

You gasped, clutching at the blanket, the feelings he was creating within you overwhelming, your body responding in ways you didn't know possible.

He teased you, his touch light and deliberate, his fingers stroking and exploring, learning what gave you pleasure, what made you moan, what made your hips buck. He kissed his way down your body, his tongue flicking against the hard peak of your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, his mouth hot and wet.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, your need for him desperate. He kissed his way lower, his tongue tracing the curve of your belly, the sharp jut of your hip bone, his hands gripping your thighs, parting them, exposing you completely. You gasped, the realization of what he was going to do was shocking, thrilling, shameful, and yet so, so right.

He dipped his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his stubble tickling, the sensation making you gasp. He glanced up, his eyes locking with yours, a smirk on his lips. Then he lowered his head, his tongue finding the hidden place that ached for his touch, his fingers stroking, teasing, building the pleasure within you until it was almost unbearable.

Your hips bucked, your breath coming in gasps, his name tumbling from your lips, the word a plea, a prayer. His tongue licking and stroking, tasting and exploring, the sensation pushing you higher, the pressure building until it was too much, until you could no longer hold back, and you cried out, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body shuddering.

No, this wasn't sinning, this was heaven, and when you fell, it was his name you cried out.

He moved, his lips meeting yours, his body settling over yours, the hard length of his manhood pressing against your thigh, the feeling strange, yet exciting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily, the taste of him sweet and intoxicating. He broke the kiss, cradling your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours.

"Ready?"

"Yes," you whispered, desire coiling within you.

He kissed you again, his tongue tangling with yours, the heat of his body enveloping you. He positioned himself, the tip of his manhood teasing your entrance, the feeling foreign and thrilling. He groaned, the sound muffled against your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushed forward, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder, the fullness, the feeling of him stretching you, the pain slowly ebbing away, replaced by a different kind of ache, a desire to have him deeper, harder. He smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love, the look making your heart swell. He began to move his hips slowly, as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you.

You gasped, the sensation exquisite, every sermon about pleasures of the flesh were erased by the reality of it. The church had gotten it wrong, It wasn't about fleeting pleasures, like indulging in too much honey cake. It was about connection, the joining of two souls, the sharing of love and passion.

He held you like a precious thing, his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. You arched into him, matching his movements as he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and strained, his hands gripping your hips, his movements growing more frantic, his thrusts deeper, harder.

The stars above seemed to burn brighter, the fire flickered, and the forest became alive with the sound of night creatures and the rustle of leaves. The pressure within you built, the sensations becoming overwhelming, the tension almost unbearable.

You cried out, your body trembling as you reached your peak, the waves of pleasure coursing through you. He groaned, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin as he followed you, the world seeming to stand still, the night air thick with the scent of smoke, of earth, and the sweetness of pleasure.

The world came rushing back, and he rolled onto his side, pulling you close, his lips brushing against yours. You lay together, your bodies entwined, the sound of your heartbeat the only thing you could hear.

"I have never felt such happiness," you whispered, a smile on your face.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest, the sensation pleasant. "I'm glad I did not disappoint,"

You giggled, shaking your head. "You could never,"

"You are too kind," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed, contentment washing over you. You gazed up at the stars, the vast expanse of the night sky making you feel small, but protected, sheltered in his arms. It was as if the entire universe had been created just for the two of you, as if nothing else mattered but this moment, the feeling of peace and contentment.

"You know," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. "I think we can stay here for a while,"

"That sounds nice," you replied, nuzzling against his chest, the smell of his skin, the warmth of his body comforting.

He hummed in agreement, his hand stroking your back, the sensation soothing, the night air cool on your bare skin. The fire began to die down, and he rose to tend to it, the flames casting shadows across his body, the sight mesmerizing.

"It is strange," you said, propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him. "I never knew I could feel this way, so happy and peaceful,"

"Life is like that," he said, a thoughtful look on his face. "We often do not know what is waiting for us, but the path we follow leads to places we could never have imagined,"

You stood, grabbing the bottle of wine and walking over to him, your legs were trembling slightly and you tripped, falling into his arms, the red wine spilling over the both of you.

"Oh," you exclaimed, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his bare chest sticky with the sweet wine.

He chuckled, steadying you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I see that the mushrooms are having an effect,"

"Is it that obvious?" you asked, blushing, the blush deepening when he laughed.

"I believe the drink is helping as well,"

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his hair messy, his skin flushed.

"I suppose so,"

You handed him the bottle, his gaze holding yours as he drank, the wine dribbling down his chin. You stared, mesmerized, the sight igniting a fire within you. You took his hand, pulling him closer, tasting the sweet liquid from his lips, the wine mingling with the taste of him. Then you pulled away as a strange thrill sparked within you, and you began to skip around the fire, laughing, your hair flying wildly, the stars seeming to twinkle brighter.

He laughed, his voice echoing through the night air, the sound making your heart race. He caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground, twirling you around, the flames dancing around you, the night sky a canopy above, the fireflies sparkling in the darkness. You felt so wild and free, and you wanted to dance with him forever, to stay lost in the moment, the night a dream, the stars a song.

"You make me so happy,"

He gazed at you, his eyes filled with emotion, his expression tender. "As you make me, my love,"

You paused at his words, the weight of them sinking in, the realization that he truly loved you, that he felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"Elijah, I- I," you stammered, the words failing you.

"It's alright," he murmured, his lips grazing yours, his touch soft and gentle.

"I've never felt this way about anyone, I-" you gasped, the feelings too big for your words.

He smiled, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, of being wrapped in Elijah’s arms. But the reality of what you had just done, what you had been doing for weeks, began to sink in, bringing a wave of dread beneath the warmth.

“I’ve never known a life outside the convent,” you murmured, tracing delicate patterns on his skin, feeling the quiet pull of guilt. The convent’s walls, the endless rules, and the silent prayers suddenly felt a world away, and yet their shadow lingered.

“But now you have,” he whispered, his hand moving softly through your hair.

“What will become of me?” you asked, a tremor of fear slipping into your voice as you looked up at him. You thought of Mother Mathilde, of the church and their harsh lessons on purity and sin. The thought of facing them now, of explaining what you had done, made your heart pound with a quiet panic.

Elijah’s eyes softened, and a slight smile touched his lips. “We’ll go wherever the stars take us,” he promised. “The world is waiting for us.”

You bit your lip, a mixture of fear and excitement blooming inside you. The idea of leaving, of stepping beyond the safety of the convent walls, thrilled you in ways you could barely understand.

“Do you swear it?” you whispered, the question catching in your throat.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze never wavering. “I swear it,” he said, his voice full of conviction.

"I love you," you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips.

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And I love you, more than the stars and the sky,"

You closed your eyes, resting against him, feeling a warmth unlike any other. Yet, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, a quiet fear lingered. The convent, the rules, the life you had always known... They weren’t gone. They waited for you.

You had defied God, broken every rule. And you would face the consequences.

The question was, when.

Freya entered the courtyard, carrying a cup of blood, and found Rebekah already seated beside Elijah, her hand resting gently on his arm as he sat in silence. Rebekah’s gaze was fixed on her brother, her eyes full of worry, unwilling to leave him alone in his grief. Elijah didn’t seem to notice her presence, his eyes distant and hollow, fixed somewhere beyond the walls around them.

Freya approached, giving her sister a small nod before placing the cup beside Elijah. He didn’t move to take it, but his eyes flickered, betraying a glimmer of longing. His skin was ashen, his hair unkempt, and his clothes were crumpled and torn. It was a painful sight for Freya and Rebekah, both of whom knew him as the ever-composed, dignified brother.

“You should feed,” Freya urged softly. “I’ve added some herbs that might help.”

“I am not hungry,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Rebekah squeezed his arm gently, glancing up at Freya with a look that conveyed her own helplessness. “She wouldn’t want this for you, Elijah,” she said quietly, her voice full of tenderness and sorrow.

Elijah’s gaze shifted slightly, the grief in his eyes so profound that Rebekah felt it cut through her as sharply as a blade. “Don’t,” he said, his tone hard, as if even hearing your name spoken aloud was more than he could bear.

Freya and Rebekah exchanged a silent understanding, both realizing that Elijah’s pain was too raw, too deep to be soothed. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of loss hanging thickly in the air.

“What did Klaus and Marcel find?” Elijah asked at last, his voice cracking, though he tried to keep it steady.

“Nothing so far,” Freya answered. “Not a lot of people left to question after-”

“After you dismembered most of the suspect pool,” Kol chimed in from the balcony above, his tone light, a mischievous grin on his face.

Elijah’s gaze sharpened, fixing on Kol with a coldness that might have made anyone else falter. Kol only smirked, strolling down the stairs to join them.

“You’re no help,” Freya hissed, irritated.

Kol grabbed the cup of blood and swirled it lazily, shrugging. “Not in your little murder investigation, no… But I do have something rather interesting to share.”

Elijah’s gaze flickered, the faintest trace of curiosity surfacing. “And what would that be?”

Rebekah looked up at Kol, her wariness evident. “What is this about?” she asked, her tone guarded.

“A spell,” Kol replied, setting the cup down and glancing between them, an almost devilish glint in his eyes. “A very old spell.”

Freya’s eyes narrowed. “Kol…” she warned, sensing where this was leading.

“A way to bring her back,” Kol said, his gaze drifting to Elijah.

Elijah sat up straighter, his expression a mix of disbelief and restrained hope. “Explain,” he demanded, his voice hard.

Kol’s smirk softened, his tone turning serious. “It's a spell that can bind two souls together, to form a connection that transcends death itself. A bond that can be used to pull a soul back into its original body, no matter how long they've been apart, no matter how many miles have stretched between them, or how deeply the grave has claimed them."

Elijah was on his feet, his eyes wild with a mixture of desperate hope and anger. "Why did you not come forward sooner?" he snarled, advancing toward Kol.

"Because I only just found the damn thing," Kol replied, not backing down. "It took months to translate the Latin, longer to decipher the incantation, and then I had to identify the ingredients."

Freya’s eyes narrowed. "Ingredients?" she asked, suspicion clear in her tone.

"Some of them are... difficult to come by," Kol said carefully. "And they require a rather unique skill set."

"Get to the point," Rebekah interjected, her gaze as cold and unyielding as Elijah’s.

Kol’s eyes flickered with a hint of challenge as he explained, "The spell requires a witch descended from a long and powerful bloodline. As well as a blood sacrifice, lots of blood."

"Human?" Freya asked, her expression hard.

Kol’s smile returned, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Oh, witch would suffice, or vampire."

"And this witch from a powerful bloodline? I’m guessing Freya can’t perform the spell," Rebekah said, her gaze sharp.

"You guess correctly, sister dear," Kol replied, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You’ve got a solution, and I’m not part of it?" Freya cut in, her tone incredulous.

"I wouldn’t dream of it, sister; we’ll need you. But this spell calls for more power than any single witch can provide," Kol explained, his gaze shifting between his siblings.

"Who do you have in mind?" Rebekah asked, her tone laced with suspicion. "Davina?"

“Absolutely not. My girl’s not getting involved in this,” Kol said firmly, his gaze hardening.

"Who then?" Rebekah pressed.

Kol’s grin returned. "Miss Bonnie Bennett, remember her? Lovely witch, very powerful, and quite capable of casting the spell."

"The Bennett witch?" Elijah echoed, skepticism in his voice.

"The very same," Kol said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "The problem is, we aren’t exactly on friendly terms. She won’t be eager to help us."

"What other ingredients do you need?" Elijah asked, his eyes boring into Kol.

"That's the tricky part," Kol sighed. "To pull her soul back, we need someone connected to her, someone who cares deeply for her."

"And?" Rebekah urged, sensing there was more.

“We need their heart,” Kol finished, his gaze flicking to Elijah. “The spell requires the heart of the person who loves her most.”

Silence fell as Elijah absorbed Kol’s words, his expression unreadable. His jaw clenched, the weight of the sacrifice sinking in, but he held Kol’s gaze steady. When he spoke, his voice was low and unwavering. "How soon can you get the Bennett witch here?"

"I'll go to Mystic Falls myself and fetch her," Kol replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"I'm coming with you," Rebekah said firmly.

"No," Kol shot back, his tone suddenly sharp.

Rebekah’s eyes flashed as she fixed him with an unwavering glare. "Why not?"

"You need to stay here, to take care of him,” Kol replied, gesturing toward Elijah. “We can't afford him going rogue again."

"I'm fine," Elijah snapped, his gaze hard.

"Sure you are," Kol quipped, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“Kol,” Freya cut in, her voice laced with warning.

"I won't be gone long, a few days at most," Kol said, looking between them.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. "Very well," he conceded, his tone resigned.

"Splendid," Kol said, his smile returning. "I'll leave immediately. I can make the flight tonight."

"I'm still coming with you," Rebekah insisted, her gaze locked on Kol.

Kol rolled his eyes, then relented. "Fine. Let's go,"

Rebekah nodded, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, her gaze softening as she held his eyes a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll get her back, okay? No matter what.”

Elijah’s expression remained impassive, but when his gaze met hers, Rebekah saw a glimmer of hope… a faint belief that maybe, just maybe, you would return to him.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[gerec]

Do you have any Cherik fic recs where Charles was abused as a child and Erik finds out about it? I feel like I’ve read them all but on the off chance that I haven’t, I would owe you my life ;w;

(Thank you for doing these btw, your rec lists have fueled my revived Cherik obsession for the last several months!)

Hi Anon! I don't know if you'll find anything new on this list (I hope so) but here are some great fics that meet your requirements. Happy hunting :D

sins of the father by faerie_ground

Brian Xavier experiments on his only son, believing it will make him powerful. Years later, Charles Xavier still suffers from the aftereffects.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life by Anonymous

Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Divergence by Lynds

Universes and timelines collide, dropping two younger versions of Charles Xavier into the midst of the hunt for Sebastian Shaw. Now the newly formed X-men have to deal with a strangely quiet and self-reliant six year old, and a sixteen year old covered in bruises.

Erik, in particular, has to accept that the man he loves hasn't had the kind, happy upbringing he wished for him. But these children are here now, and Erik's not going to let anyone hurt them this time.

Close to you, I'm home by OneWithoutAName

As Erik is searching the manor, he finds something strange in the attic. He knows that he needs to go to Charles, if he wants some answers. After all, why would there be a nest in a small dusty attic room, when there were countless rooms with ridiculously soft beds all around the manor?

how near to fairyland by ikeracity

Since childhood, Charles has kept all the things he can't let go of in a beautiful room in his head. Cuba brings his precarious balancing act crashing down.

Gin and Tonic by JackyJango

Charles takes a deep breath to steal himself and nearly collapses on the floor out of the sheer pain the motion tugs out of his bruised ribs and stomach. Tears crowd his eyes, and even that, causes his left cheek to throb. He takes another breath despite the pain and leans on the counter for support. He feels lightheaded and dizzy. The tears threaten to surpass the barrier of his eyes and flow down his cheeks. No, he won’t cry. He can’t; because he doesn’t think he’d stop once he starts. Besides, crying will only empower Kurt further. He can’t let the man break him in every way possible.

Just as he’s about to open the tap to splash water over his eyes, the door to the bathroom bursts open and Erik enters through it.

Shit. What is Erik doing here? Shouldn’t he be in a lecture? Even if he wanted to just use the urinals, there’s already a toilet on their floor. He needn’t have walked across the campus to use the one specifically Charles is in. But before Charles could voice any of those thoughts, Erik asks in a voice as hard as steel, ‘What happened to your face?’

and the flesh searches for more than flesh by Anonymous

Charles is barely legal, and, despite his better judgement, continually uses his telepathy to get himself into the club near his house in a bid to get away from his abusive step-family. He lets himself get picked up by older, slightly creepy men if it means he gets somewhere to stay that isn’t the mansion in Westchester.

He didn’t expect to actually meet a decent guy one night, someone he could truly see himself having a relationship with. He doesn’t quite realise that’s what he’s been looking for the entire time – someone to make him feel a little less alone.

what a lovely way (of saying how much you love me) by Katbelle

There are ghosts buried in the walls of Westchester Mansion. Secrets locked in Kurt Marko's lab in the basement, Brian Xavier's west wing study, in the only east wing bedroom that Erik claimed as his own. And the thing is, Raven never knew and Cain didn't want to know, Erik doesn't understand and Charles just wants to forget what happened behind those closed door.

It's been fourteen years and it still hurts so much, claws at his insides whenever he lets himself think about it. And that's why he pushes Erik away, because Erik doesn't understand and Charles can't go through that again.

Scars by blackash26

In the heat of the moment Erik discovers that he was mistaken about a few of his assumptions regarding Charles’ life.

jigsaw puzzle; pieces that fit together by zombieinyourhead (vinndetta)

Erik doesn't hide the fact that he sees Charles as a rich, privileged kid who hasn't seen horrors like he has.

What Erik finds out during his stay at the Xavier Mansion is very contradictory to his own beliefs about the telepath.

Good Little Boys by Alex_Sage

Charles mind is shattered. Erik and Raven must wade into the darkest corners of his mind to piece him back together. Will any of them be the same when this is over?

Lightning in a Metal Conductor by cytheriafalas

Erik thinks something is wrong with Charles and he goes to find out what it is. Non-graphic, but still potentially triggering, mentions of child abuse.

As the Shell Cracks by Quietbang

Sometimes, he could be okay.

The Primal, Eldest Curse by flowermasters

Erik has Herr Doktor and the coin; Charles has Cain and the memories.

Childhood by ximeria

Charles grew up in a big house with a wealthy family, his childhood was by no means a bed of roses.

Sham by OffTheRocks

As they settle in Westchester, Erik finds out something disturbing about Charles' history in that house.

Charles is a clever child who wants to be a grown-up. Harry simply offers to teach him.

Let the Swing Complete Itself by Anonymous

Charles didn't want to settle for never.

misaligned (the divergence remix) by homosociality 

Charles Xavier, 16, is in the future now, and he's determined to seduce his older self's lover. It... doesn't go quite as he suspects it will.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

can u pls tell the people your most traumatising sirius ships

i was going through a mental list of all the traumatizing sirius ships and that's just all of them i fear, so here's a handful of my current favs <3

sirius x walburga - she fucked him over. then, she fucked him ! she's possessive and overbearing and controlling, won't let him talk to any girls because it makes her sickk. she'll say it's because they aren't good enough for him and then go on to describe herself when talking about his wife. #1 most toxic, traumatizing relationship ever haunted him till the day he died.

sirius x james - codependent homoerotic best friendships have the most insane jealousy problems ever and james potter is NOT used to sharing, tails behind sirius 24/7 and he's sirius' entire concept of love soo. yeah. also i read pioneers and oh my god. also it just ruined his life like imagine getting dick SO GOOD you break out of prison and die for it.

(war time) sirius x peter - peter is playing this man like a fiddleee omg. ex situationship ended in marriage (hint: not with him), ex boyfriend is a nazi (according to him) and everyone he loves is dying PLUS he's being manipulated by the guy he settled for ??? peter is just 24/7 implying that sirius is Bad and sirius is like ykw yeah i suck and should prbly die

sirius x barty jr - is it even a traumatizing sirius ship post without a grimkiller mention? no, no it isn't. barty is everything and nothing to sirius he is good and bad and everything in between. barty's pathetic and weird and disgusting and sirius is like eww... wait hot. barty brings up his worst fears and humiliates him and hurts him and withholds food and information from him and makes him get off on it and sirius thinks I Deserve This.

sirius x barty SR - no because it's perfect. bcsr is kinder than walburga and orion but not so nice that sirius feels (completely) undeserving of it. he's constantly favoured over bcjr and praised and valued and loved and it's amazing for bcsr because he can literally make sirius do anything he wants in a moment. + sirius is being so used to favoured over bcjr (because he's competing as a son) that when bcsr goes to his wife instead of him (because he's now a competing with her too) sirius is tearing his hair out screaming crying throwing up

sirius x frank gallagher - this is a stand in for all the shitty guys sirius dated in and after hogwarts that were older, drunker, meaner than orion and with that also had very demeaning, d/s kinks with no aftercare, had a wife and kids sirius' age, talked about how much he'd like to screw other women in front of sirius, constantly criticized him. no one knows why sirius is dating him when all of his hot rich nice friends who would kill themselves for him are all pining over him.

sirius x minerva - completely totally one sided however it does take over his life for most of his time at hogwarts and he's going insane trying to get her approval and he's not even sure if it's just his mommy issues or a crush or what. doesn't study for anything but he'll stay up days to ace transfiguration so his hot older teacher will maybe smile at him and tell him he did a good job

sirius x regulus - guilt guilt guilt he 100% believes he's the one who brought regulus down with his lust and sin (it was all regulus' plan but shh he needed dick) and the self hatred and shame and sex repulsion and guilt and "im not just like them i'm worse"-ness is 📈📈

honorable mentions: sirius x pandora, sirius x evan, sirius x evan x barty, sirius x marlene, sirius x james x bellatrix