#god. i wish i could experience watching it all over again for the first time

[daddy-long-legssss]

this the type of shit i'm gonna be on this fall

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[pressureplus]

Could I ask for the prompt of you being a former friend/lover of Sebastian's from the surface when he was still human, becoming an EXR-P and meeting him again for the first time? I think it could be either super wholesome or super angsty lmao,,

-⭕️

Oh, you know I just love angst, thank you for the prompt! May have run a bit wild with it, apologies for that!

Hiraeth

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Angst, Romance

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

How many times had you run through these halls, desperately searching for a safe place to rest? The echo of water droplets hitting the ground from your soaked suit. You'd heard whispers, muffled between EXR-P’s like yourself. A few little tales of a shopkeeper all the way down here. A man by the name of Sebastian, some kind of experiment gone feral. A part of you was admittedly a little frightened by the idea of him, but from the moment you heard his voice over the intercom, you knew you had to find him. You knew only one man with a voice like that, that little chuckle that you'd heard a thousand times over. It played in your head on repeat and it hasn't stopped in years. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but you could dream, couldn't you?

The man you’d been in love with had been sentenced to death so many years ago now, the case details are blurry. You'd tried to be in court that day and you had. You vouched for his innocence, for his protection. He’d been with you that night. Honestly? It didn't seem to matter. They didn't care what you had to say under oath or not. Who cared if the love of your life was sentenced to death? Surely not the lawyers, the judges, the jury, or the onlookers... All of them would be able to carry on with their lives as though nothing had happened, but you? You wouldn't. You couldn't. You’d screamed that day when they took him in cuffs, when your pleas for his safety had been ignored. He didn't seem to resist, nor did he fight back. He’d only smiled at you. A little one that was a bit more solemn than the others you'd received. Much duller than the one you'd fallen in love with. Who were they to dull his light? Who were they to take him from you?

When he was killed, put down like some kind of animal, it was like the sun had fallen from the sky. For a while you'd wandered aimlessly, grieving the loss of your love, and no one had seemed to care. Those that reached out did so half-heartedly. The amount of reprimanding you got for grieving a man they claimed to be a murderer broke you down. It changed you. Something about watching the world around you turn their backs to your grief, rejecting the idea of his innocence even in death. It drove you nearly crazy. Now, after all this time, you're here. Here, in the Hadal Blacksight under Urbanshades care, you had a chance of seeing him. Maybe it wasn't a particularly good chance, but a chance nonetheless.

As you finally looked around the inside of his shop, out of breath from having crawled through an already open vent, you were greeted with items. A document on the counter, batteries, a radio and keycard. All sorts of spare items on shelves and an empty black doorway. There was no shopkeeper here, and it only left you confused. That was until you heard shifting in the backroom. Was he storing things? Replenishing his supply? Did it matter? Now was the time and god the way your heart raced in your chest left you almost shaking. Was it going to be him? You shouldn't get your hopes up, right? After a few more moments of silence, you gathered your courage to speak, stepping a little closer to the dark doorway.

“Hello?” You attempted to call out for him, or more so anyone in that back room. You were greeted with a softer, smoother voice.

“What are you doing here?” You freeze immediately, little tears in your eyes. The voice you were so attached to for so long, the one you'd missed, the one you'd fallen in love with. Of course his voice was a bit deeper than you'd last heard it, but oh so familiar.

“Sebastian? Is that really you? You're alive- tell me you're alive and that I've not finally lost my mind.”

“I'm alive. Barely.”

“Sebastian, I've missed you so much. I thought I'd lost you forever- I am so, so sorry that I couldn't do more. I-” You attempt to step closer towards the door, only to be met with aggression. A loud almost barking noise as his voice picks up in volume.

“Don't- Don't come any closer.”

“Its been nearly a decade since I've last seen you, come on-”

“You don't want to see me.”

“What? Sebastian, of course I want to see you.”

“No, no you don't. You don't want to see me now, its better if you think of me as dead. I'm warning you.”

“It can't be that bad-”

“Back up.” He huffs as you take another step forward, almost at the doorframe now.

“No, no I'm not backing up. I have waited to see you for years and no amount of being nervous is going to stop me.”

“Back. Up.” His voice drops even lower, more like a hiss than words as you finally get to the doorway.

“Sebastian, I'm not backing up. I-”

“I said BACK UP!” The voice you're greeted with hold power unlike anything you've heard from a human before. A snarl and a growl, echoing oddly in his throat as his face comes out of the darkness. A monster and not a man. Something entirely unrecognizable as your lover apart from his voice, something that looks closer to the anglers here than anything else. His glistening teeth bared as though he was going to snap and rip into you at any moment. His eyes filled with anger unrivaled.

“Wh…What are you?” Those words seemed to sink in deep, hitting him in all his most sensitive places. An attack directly on his heart. You watch the rage turn into hurt, melting into regret before he dipped back inside the dark room. A bit of shuffling heard.

“Are you happy now? You've seen enough. I didn't want it to come to this, okay? Please just…go away. I can't bear to look at you like this. Your expression is too much for me.”

“Wait- wait I'm sorry I just- you shocked me is all. Sebastian please-” You try to soften your approach as the shock and fear fade away.

“Don't say my name so sweetly, like you didn't just get scared of my face. And what about the rest of me? What will you think of what they made me? If my face scares you that much you won't want to see the rest.”

“Sebastian, please. I have loved you for years, since way before all of this. Even after you died I never stopped loving you. I was a little scared, yes, but its you, isn't it? It's still my Sebastian in that body. No matter what you look like now.” He hesitated for a moment. A long beat of silence, heartbeat rapid in your panic to not let him leave you again. All at once a massive clawed hand juts out of the darkness and pulls you in. You're tugged up into a set of arms, a third coming up under your thighs to function like a chain. The glow of his eyes on the darkness is unsettling for only a moment as he dips down to muzzle into your neck.

“Don't…Don't say things like that unless you mean them.”

“Sebastian.” You say it softly, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I still love you…its okay. All of you, even if its new and different. Its just gonna take a little getting used to. You can be patient for me, can't you?” He nods against your neck, holding you desperately. Enough for those claws to sink into your skin and draw blood, but neither of you seem to care. Here, even if its only for a moment, Sebastian has a piece of home again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 

His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 

He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 

“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 

He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 

“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 

“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 

“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 

Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 

Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 

He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 

“Have a good night,” you say at last. 

He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 

He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 

“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 

You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 

“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 

“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 

“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 

You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 

“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 

“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 

“We can start now--” 

“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 

Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 

“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 

“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 

“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 

“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 

She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 

“We could all go. Disappear.” 

“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 

“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 

Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 

“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 

“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 

“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 

She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 

“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 

“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 

“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 

She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 

“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 

“Kitty,” you murmur. 

Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 

“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 

You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 

“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 

“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 

“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 

[joszns]

miss you ✭

college!ellie x reader

content: sexting, nudes, first sexting experience, vibrator usage (reader), masturbation, pet names (baby, good girl, babe)

summary: ellie misses you a little too much on a late night and decides to text you…

part 2!!!

ellie bit her lip, laying on her bed. a still-lit joint rested in the ash tray next to her, the drug affecting her greatly as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her legs. she rolled to her side, grabbing her phone and checking the time.

11:30…

reluctantly, she unlocks her phone and hovers her fingertip over your contact. whatever. it’s not weird of her to text her own girlfriend, regardless of the time.

e: hey, u still awake?

she looks at the message, before leaving her phone on the bed and deciding to finish off the joint.

a ping quickly steals her attention, however.

y/n: i am, why? miss u.

she quickly takes one last hit, bursting out into a coughing fit. ellie grabs her phone, typing a reply.

e: nothing, i just miss u babe. what are you doing?

ellie gets back into bed, eyes glued to her phone.

y/n: thinking ab you, silly

she blushes slightly.

e: aw, what about me??

ellie watches you type, then disappear. ugh, was that cringe?? she rolls onto her back, nervously chewing her nail.

y/n: im thinking about ur kisses…

she feels her heart skip a beat. her thighs reflexively clench against eachother, barely relieving the desperate need for touch between them.

e: my kisses? what about them?

ellie pulls the covers over her, feeling a little exposed in her dimly lit room.

y/n: i miss them. i need them

her breath catches slightly, typing a response quickly.

e: yeah? need them where?

she bites her lip nervously, scared at your response.

y/n: want me to show you?

no fucking way.

ellie blushes furiously, her heart beating rocket speed as she stares at your message.

e: show me baby

she hopes her response comes off as cool and collected. you can’t tell tone in text after all, right?

a minute passes, and she starts to get anxious. what if that was too far?

[Y/N ❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellies eyes go wide. nevermind to that. she opens the notification, getting more and more turned on.

the image was absolutely breathtaking.

you were lying on your back, shirt off, neck exposed. your skin was highlighted perfectly by your bedside lamp, jawline in the corner of the image. she could see you were biting your lip, your fingers lightly placed just above ur collarbone.

right here pls?

the text on the image read. ellie took in a deep breath, her free hand slipping beneath the covers and teasing the hem of her shirt.

e: i wish i could my love

id kiss more than just ur neck

she waits for your response, still looking at the photograph. ellie could picture it, feel you whimpering softly as she marked your neck.

y/n: how about….

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the picture, dipping her fingers below the waistband of her boxers. she was extremely turned on by you, her thighs clenching again at the picture.

you had angled the camera lower, showing your bare chest as your hands covered your nipples, the text reading:

…here? ;P

fuck, ellie thought, starting to rub her clit over her boxers. she stared at the image for a moment, taking in your beautiful tits and trying her best to remember what was behind those fingers of yours. she remembered how your boobs felt up in her face, growing more aroused at the thought.

e: fuck baby you’re so hot

i miss u

i love ur boobs

she shoved her hand beneath the fabric of her boxers, desperately needing more friction.

y/n: they love u too baby

what are you thinking about?

oh god. she can’t answer that honestly. what do I say…she thought, pausing her movements. herr heart pounded in her chest, she was so close to finishing.

e: everything about u. ur so perfect. i miss the way u taste sm

y/n: yeah, you miss my pussy? ur so cute lol

ellie blushed furiously at your message, tossing her phone to the side momentarily before quickly rolling back over to grab it once again.

e: shut up.

she bit her lip, returning to the photos you had sent. she began touching herself again, thinking about your hand in place of her own.

e: what r u doing rn..?

ellie’s finger hovered over the send button nervously.

y/n: typing witg one hand

she rolled her eyes back, imagining you touching yourself, thinking about her. ellie did the same, getting off to those dirty thoughts.

e: proof?

she pressed send, half joking but half wanting to see. im such a perv…

[Y/N❤️✂️sent you a snap!]

ellie blushed, quickly opening the snapchat notification.

this time, it was a video.

it showed your hand, working away at yourself underneath your underwear. you were moaning softly, letting ellies name slip towards the end.

jesus. she let out a whimper. the video looped, and with each replay she got wetter and wetter.

e: goddamn. i need u so bad y/n

need to be all up in your pretty pussy

ellie opened snapchat, recording a video of her getting off as well. she pictured you, your perfect moans in her ear as she fingered you relentlessly.

“fuck….” she groaned.

anxiously, she sent the video, however she was too lost in her own arousal to put much worry or thought into it.

y/n: omfg ellie

i want u to fuck me so bad, your moans make me go insane baby im so wet

ellie let out a moan, rubbing her clit much more intensely now.

e: r u using that vibrator i know u have?

she could picture you, hair messy and tangled as your back arches, whimpering as the vibrator massaged your clit perfectly.

y/n: howd you know?

[New audio message from Y/N❤️✂️]

ellie excitedly played it, nearly orgasming on the spot as she heard your delicious moans.

you were whimpering her name, the faint hum of your vibrator barely heard over your cries of pleasure.

she felt herself get close, playing the audio over and over again until she was on the brink of cumming.

e: gonna cum….fuck your moans are so hot…i wish i was the one causing them

y/n: i wanna see u cum to the thought of me baby

ellies breath sped up as she began to record her touches, rubbing away at her clit and occasionally dipping her fingers inside for more slick.

“oh fuck…y/n…” she moaned, picturing your perfect tits bouncing in her face as you rode her strap. her hips bucked into her hand as she came, whimpering your name over and over again as well as several curses. she sent the video, replaying the audio you had sent as she rode herself through the orgasm.

geez…i haven’t cum that hard in a while…ellie thought, feeling her clit pulse and twitch beneath her fingers as she regained her breath.

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the video, still touching herself.

this time, you were the one cumming all over your fingers. it was truly a show, your tits bouncing as you moaned her name, the dual vibrator massaging your clit and filling you up simultaneously. you turned the camera and rested it slightly above your collarbones, giving ellie a full view of your tits and thrusting. you whimpered as you turned up the speed, cumming hard on the silicone toy and moaning ellies name into the mic repeatedly.

she almost came again, her arousal quickly growing at the sight of you.

e: hooly fuuckkk baby. i wish i could be with u in person rn. i wanna put my face all in your perfect pussy.

y/n: come over ?? lol

still horny :(( i miss you pretty girl

that was enough for her to decide.

she got up, reading the time as 12:10. whatever, anything for you.

e: on my way baby

im gonna fuck you so good

ur not gonna be able to walk tmr

y/n: can’t wait <3

a/n :3 this is my first ever fic…if u have any suggestions or constructive critics let me know lol i hope u enjoyed!!!

edit: THANK U SM FOR ALL THE LOVE😭😭❤️working hard on another one!!!

[readychilledwine]

Odd request, but how do you think the acotar men would react to brushing their females cervix during sex ( you don’t have to write it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so) 💕

This kink isn't my cup of tea, but I know a lot of you like the idea of it so, let's gooooooo

The First Time He Brushed Your Cervix Head Canons

Warning - graphic link to make sure you understand some positioning

Rhysand

Rhysand's instinct as a high lord is to breed, so the first time you jump from him hitting that sensitive area, he can't help but to try over and over again

It made him practically feral, feeling so close to your womb he could practically release directly into it

He'd have your knees practically to your chest, hands gripping your ass as he plowed into you.

It turns into his goal every time you two fuck now. Even if succeeding in that goal means you won't walk for a few days.

"You like that, don't you? Like feeling me so deep inside of you. Your cunt sure swallows me like she does."

Cassian

With Cassian, it was a given, but it still made you whine for him.

He makes you look and feel even tinier than you are, and with how hung he is, it becomes a regular thing.

He always checks when it happens to make sure you're okay, but fuck he wishes he could just fuck straight through it.

Cassian didn't know he had a breeding Kink until it happened.

He's tried having you ride so you could prevent it, but his face when you sink all the way down is worth the little bit of shock.

"That's it, baby, relax. You feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing my cock so tight. Fuck, baby. Going to cum so deep inside of you."

Azriel

Azriel did it on purpose.

He knows you like pain mixed in with your pleasure, and he's more than happy to provide.

He loves watching you squrim while he's giving you deep, hard thrusts from behind

He has a filthy mouth to match the action to, mocking you as you cry out his name but beg for it over and over again.

He's a sadistic lover, so once you two discovered that was okay as long as it was discussed prior, he was sold.

"Fuck, I'm going to ruin this pussy and you'll just let me, won't you?" As he grabs your chin and forced you to nod. "That's right, you feel me, baby? Feel me stretching you out? Good girl. Good fucking girl."

Lucien

He stopped. He immediately stopped. He couldn't tell if your gasp was a happy one or one of pain.

It was one of pain, so he pulled out and immediately laid you on your back.

He buried his head between your legs for the night after that. Bring you to completion over and over until you were begging for him to be inside of you.

He was careful this time, giving you the deep thrusts you wanted but being so gentle as he bottomed out at a different angle.

"Making me feel like a God, bunny. This tight little cunt was made for me, wasn't she?"

Eris

I have a head canon that Eris is a gentle love maker, despite how I tend to write him

Eris, much like Lucien, stopped when it happened.

He only cared about you being okay. He's read enough books to know the nerves there are beyond sensitive.

When you were fine, something ignited in him. It became one of his favorite things, but he didn't plan or seek it to happen. When it does happen, though, the way he talks you through it is enough to push you over the edge.

"My pretty little mate. This cunt is perfect. Always so tight and wet for me. Is she all mine?"

Tamlin

Tamlin's reaction is very similar to Rhysand's.

The urge for a High Lord to breed breed breed turns him into a growling mess.

Claws will dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips when it happens, but you absolutely love it

Sex with Tamlin could never get boring. Shape shifter, remember?

You've gotten to experience him shifting his cock to different sizes and forms just to kiss your cervix once you two decided you liked it.

In short, if the Cauldron had not made you Tamlin's mate, you'd pick him for his cock alone, regardless.

(Listen. Liz could write a lot of monster fucking about Tamlin.)

[softspace-fics]

Senses

A/N - it's been such a long week and I've missed posting so much, two requests currently in the making! I hope you guys enjoy whatever this turned into.

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of a mission, mentions of anxiety, mentions of a avengers party, let me know if I missed any!

Stucky (mainly bucky) x gn! Little reader

-------

If there was one thing that everyone in the tower knew, it was that you don’t touch bucky unless aloud. This even applied to you, even as his second partner along side Steve. The only one that was able to touch bucky without his life being in danger is Steve, and thats just because Bucky could almost like, sense him.

You felt a little sad that you may never have that with Buck, but you didn’t show it, atleast you did your best not to. You knew that if he ever did warm up to you, you’d open it with loving arms and let him know that he doesn’t have to be afraid.

Steve in a way, knew an saw how you felt. He would watch as your eyes showed how you wished that you could hug buck surprisingly as he did, or just to be able to move into rooms silently as you were known to do.

Bucky had a feeling about it but he couldnt put his hand on what was bothering you. The super soldiers knew you like the back of their hand. This is why when you became their partner, and little, it was like a part of them had been completed. 

You’d always announce yourself coming into rooms when around bucky, or make some sort of noise to make sure you didn't spook him. Bucky thought it was a sweet gesture, something you had been doing since you met him. Steve just knew it couldn’t only be that.

One day when all of the avengers were hanging out, you and bucky decided to hang back at your room in the tower. Bucky wasn't feeling the greatest, and in all honesty you weren’t either. Your anxiety had been spiking all day. You barely wanted to even have to get out of bed.

You were laying on the couch watching a movie when you heard bucky shuffle around in your guy’s shared bedroom. Nothing unusual, so you ignore it.

Until it happens again, and again, and maybe even a 4th time. That's when you decide its worth going to at least check out. You stand up and head towards your bedroom when you what bucky mumbling, and then making noise again.

“Bucky?” you open the door quietly as you speak, trying to figure out whats going on with him.

“No- No I don’t-” Bucky mumbles, his sleeping form crumpled in your bed.

“Bucky? Bucky are you okay?” You ask as you walk over to him, trying to gently wake him as he appears to be having a nightmare.

“No-No You can’t- You can’t have them!” Bucky screams as he sits up in bed, looking around with fear and worry in his eyes.

“Bucky?” You sit down in front of him, looking at him with concern, but avoiding touching him.

That is until he literally drags you into his lap, crying as he holds you tightly. He’s mumbling thank god and jesus christ over and over again, you softly hug him back, burying close into his embrace.

“I-I thought they got you. I couldn’t save you.”

“Im here buck.. I promise no ones hurt me.”

He sighs and gently kisses your cheek before wrapping you in the blanket and pulling you under with him.

He plays with your hair until you inevitably fall asleep on top of him.

When steve arrives home, bucky has you practically strapped to him with his own limbs, his arms are tightly secured around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours as you both sleep, soundly.

You were fond of the experience, this was the first time bucky had let you help him through a nightmare. You were honestly glad he was starting to open up.

Something you hadn’t realized was that bucky had the urge for you to just jump on him like steve did. Ever since the nightmare hes realized how much you made sure to let him know you were there, it was as if it was to make sure he didn’t attack you. You never touched him unless he saw you first, and you would always announce yourself in one way or another when walking into somewhere where he was, and you’d always leave him notes or messages to let him know if you'd be home at an odd hour.

With steve he never has to guess or know, he can feel steve a mile away, and hes beginning to be able to do the same with you. He can hear your small quiet footsteps, the way your keys jingle in your pocket, your breathing patterns, everything was starting to tell him that he was safe around you.

Weeks pass of this bothering him, he just wants you to not feel like you can just exist without him having to necessarily know.

The first time you don’t announce yourself is when you get home at 3:40am from a in-house mission. Your half regressed, and feel actually disgusting, the in-house being you had to join clint in the vents, and you really never want to go back.

You quietly enter the house, and slowly drop your stuff on the table, before opening the fridge and grabbing one of your pre-made juice sippys.

“Can’t hurts” you quietly mumble to yourself, your regression starting to take over.

You turn towards the living room and you see bucky standing in the door way, watching over you.

“Pa- Uhm, Bucky?” You ask, surprised.

“How did you know I was home?”

“I can hear you from practically anywhere, my senses know. You sure you want juice? I could make you up some milk?” Bucky smiles softly.

He sees the grime slimed on your face, and the dust from wherever you were on your clothes, but he sees you most importantly.

You give him a knowing look, before you slowly lose the facade of being big and walk over to him, burying your face in his chest and letting him take the exhaustion.

You didn’t need to announce yourself for him to know you needed him, and you’d be able to learn soon enough that you wouldn't have to announce yourself at all. 

_________

[threepandas]

Eve: Part 2

Prev: <-

He had clothes for me. And It would not have been so unsettling, had they been less... precise. Less flattering. Fit less perfectly. But they DID. A sundress, in a flattering cut. A lovely color for my skin tone. The sort of thing a man who wore only variations of the same outfits? Day in and day out? Definitely researched.

At least I had fucking underwear now.

Even if I still couldn't move under my own power, farther then an inch or so.

He didn't even have the decency to dress me like a doll. Fondly but with some detachment. A bit of distance I could cling too. No, I was the paralyzed toddler, to be cradled and cooed over as he manhandled me. Praises as though I DONE anything. Kisses pressed to bio-gel wet hair and skin.

Weren't I SUCH a good girl? Letting him do as he pleases. Unable to stop him. Weak as the newborn I was. Fuck. The echoes of pain still howled along my near weeping nerve endings. Begging for rest. For the finest pain medication cocktails money can buy. Anything.

Instead I got this.

Clingy hands and the near bitter cold of a lab.

A lab coat was pulled onto me next. It didn't match my little dress up outfit. But? At least it was WARM. Thank god. Already, the goo was making my clothes stick to me. Sucking away my heat. Leaving my... my EVERYTHING feeling gross and sticky. I wanted a shower. Not to be dressed up.

But I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting what I wanted.

"There we are~ All nice and covered up. We'll get you cleaned up soon, sweetheart. Daddy promises." The madman who held me hummed. His face tucked against my gel filthy hair as his hand rubbed up and down my limp arm, as though trying to draw warmth to it. A mockery of caring. This was possession. "Now let's get out of here, hmm?"

Scooped up like a princess, I felt more like a toy too be carted around.

I was carried, for the first time, from the lab that had been all I'd known.

I wish he'd left me there. Forgotten I even existed. Instead, I got to see firsthand, EXACTLY what he had done. And... and I knew... KNEW that none of those dead around me were innocent. They all had hand in atrocities, either directly or by compliance. Inaction. But.... but did they deserve this? Indiscriminate execution?

He didn't even glance down, as he strolled through the carnage he had made.

Too the elevators, where he casually kicked the corpse blocking the door, out of the way, before steeping inside. We rode in near silence. Just me, him, and the corpses of three security gaurds and a scientist. He was humming. Soft but pleased, as though the day had turned out surprisingly well.

He had to rest me on a hood, when we reached the carpark. So he could dig out his keys. I was swept up again. Though not carried far. Fancy. Good to know being a morally bankrupt, weirdly clingy, DEEPLY fucking cracked, mad scientist pays well... I guess...

Placed down on another hood while he...

Are you kidding me?

With a near skip in his step, I watch as my "father" strolls to the trunk of his car. Pops it open. Pulls out a FUCKING KIT. An honest to God duffle bag. Several unopened plastic carseat covers. How... how LONG has he been PLANNING this?!

Numbly, I watch as he preps his front seat for me. Both protecting the upholstery while somehow making an honest to God nest of comfort for his little passenger princess. There are layers. The motions look practiced. I... I feel like I'm in a fever dream.

He does realize I'm technically a science experiment, right?

We are... for lack of a better plot device, absconding in the night? He's not PICKING ME UP FROM THE HOSPITAL. He's kidnapping me! Stealing me!! What the ACTUAL FUCK?!

I don't ask. Know BETTER then to ask. I remember that much. You don't argue with crazy. You smile, nod, and quietly get the FUCK out of there at the first possible chance. Placate don't escalate. If the madman wants to play "happy family"? Suuuuuure, "Daddy". Of COURSE.

That's EXACTLY what'll do...

You know, right up until I can fucking RUN again.

Then peace out, bitchcakes. You can take your nuttypuffs and SHOVE IT. I am sore, cold, and YOU are the one who kept pumping me full of drugs! They HURT. A LOT. I know for a FACT the world's probably gonna end. In that weirdly symbolic anime way, where there's giant hands and faces or whatever, so? Screw you!

Noooooot that I SAY that.

Because, again, we do not provoke the crazy man with a gun.

And a PLAN apparently. Dooooon't LIKE that he has "A Plan". In fact, would Prefer Not. But I'm not getting what I want today. I'm getting lifted and put, like a precious if sickly child, into the little car nest he's made for me and tucked in. Watching as he rounds the car to slide protectors over his own seat as well.

Well... at least he's self AWARE of all the blood.

He starts the car. Turns on the heater, a few taps of the console screen has music beginning to play and my seat leaning back. He leans over to grab my seat belt, as though this were all perfectly normal, pressing a soft kiss to my temple as he gets me situated.

There are straight jackets less containing.

I am trapped. Bundled by blankets, wrapped and pressed in on all sides, pillows and fancy little comforts I never wanted or asked for. All to then be strapped down by a seat belt I can't even REACH.

Great.

Just... Great.

He leaves the car running. Keys hanging, tormenting me really, in the ignition. If only I could FUCKING MOVE. I watch as he gets out. Walks back towards the elevator. He seems to think we apparently have all the time in the world. And really, according to time on the console? We kinda fucking DO.

It's barely mid-day.

Not... not even lunch.

Somehow that makes it worse. It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. Death and massacre can happen at any time. But... the fact that he so cheerfully killed each and every one of his co-workers? Massacred everyone in the fucking building but me? In broad daylight? Makes it... worse.

It feels like the sort of horror that should only happen during dark, moonless, nights. Someplace dark. Where you expect the wickedness of man against man, the inhumanity of so called civilized people. Not... daylight. Beneath the cheerful rays under which children play and people fall in love, life bustles around. It should be for LIVING.

It's a bias.

A naive thought.

Foolish of me to hold...

And yet? I still had it. Still found myself shocked. Guess I can be glad? That my innocence has not been COMPLETELY lost to this place. That there is still good in me. I seem to still assume the best of people, foolish as that is. How very dangerous.

My "father" is back. Wheeling boxes and boxes of hard drives. Lock boxes of things unknown. First the trunk, then the back seat. The car is stuffed. Every secret this place ever held it seemed. He's talking them. His grin has teeth. Is giddy and MEAN.

Looting the corpses of his enemies agrees with him, it seems.

The last trip is for his briefcase. A small pile of file folders. He's nearly dancing. Does a little twirl as he passes the front of the car, a slide to reach the door. Humming a showtime I don't recognize.

"Ah~ I've waited for this moment for YEARS~! Ha Ha!" Teeth flash and catch the low light of the carpark's emergency lighting, his eyes practically glow with a manic schadenfreude. "Oh my sweet Eve, you have NO idea how much I've been looking forward to the day I get to steal you away~ BURN this cesspit to the ground. And best of all? Finally get my hands on all this research! Put it to actual USE for once! No more filthy Adams. No more trying to fix the worthless and damned! Just us. Just Eden."

Well THATS not fucking ominou-...

Wait.

WHAT.

Eden. As in EDEN Eden? End game Eden? Super mega doom project Eden? Seemly perfect garden of bliss build upon horrors, that you think have to face Plot Relevant, "get one of several endings", Moral Quandary EDEN??? THAT ONE!? Oh, MOTHER FUCKER. Please tell me Crazy Daddy Pants isn't one of the Architects of the apocalypse.

I do NOT want to be ground zero for that. NOR in the Protagonist's way!

He buckles up. Pulls out of his spot. Casual as anything. The world is blinding, after a life spent inside. A depressing cyberpunk hellcity crowds the world around us. Somehow both choking the world of all color, even as it splashes itself with gaudy and neon like some sort of radioactive oil spill.

Clambering over each other like a bucket of crabs, dragging everyone else down as they claw at what's left of the sky.

A full city of Babel.

Yet? Even as I remember, lay witness, to this oh so familiar set dressing? Limp in my creator's car, as he drives. Smoothly navigating chaotic traffic worse then anything I could ever remember? My mind was faster then it had been. Processed information FASTER then I could ever have imagined.

I... I experienced time differently, I think.

It was... flexible? Slowing and speeding, depending on if I... not "concentrated"? But "payed attention"? I guess? Wanted to know. It felt almost like flexing something, yet there was no... flexing? Feeling? It was strange.

Yet...

Yet, with it...

I SAW.

A food cart. Owner sneaking a bedraggled man a few extra peice when he glanced away. Young parents, swinging their child between them. He is the center of their world. A first date. They are both widows, old grief still clings, but cautiously... they are ready to try again. There is SO MUCH. Lives and lives and LIVES.

The city is ugly, cruel, but the people are not.

They are not props in someone else's play.

The traffic dies off, as we get closer and closer to opulence. As brutalism shifts to a blend of art nouveau and art deco. Bits of greenery, kept like trophies to be displayed. I am somehow... unsurprised, when my creator pulls us into the garage of one of the more expensive but barren looking houses.

It is the sort of place that makes show room's seem warm.

Because, at least, show rooms TRY to mimic hospitality and warmth. A lived in quality. They, at least, SUGGEST that the dwelling they represent could one day be a home. This? This place hold no such illusions. This house would prefer itself to be a lab. Be left alone. The walls somehow radiating a disgust of you.

It is unbearably cold.

Scooped up again. The blankets have dried against my skin in places. So he merely takes them with, rather then (apparently) risk my poor hyper durable yet still sensitive skin. He's made me a living tank. Through agony after agony, day by day, yet NOW? Now I am treated like spun glass.

Carried into the house... and God, in the GARAGE was bad? This is somehow worse. I feel like tracking in a single speck of dirt would somehow get me treated to a summary execution. Literally. That nothing resides here but nutrient paste and room temperature, triple filtered water. A place where the color beige is treading dangerously close to being "too much".

Isn't this a form of torture? I'm pretty sure this was a form of torture, locking people in rooms designed like this.

Up the stairs, down a near barren hallway. The paintings probably came the house. They scream "generic and inoffensive". Where are we..? WHY are we going to the master bedroom? I do not WANT to be alone in a bedroom with you, my dude. Shit. FUCK!

I wriggle. I can twitch my feet a bit more now, but not by much.

"Shhhh, my perfection, I know. Being so filthy must be unbearable. But don't worry, Daddy's here. We're almost there." He croons at me, almost in the exact tone one uses to sooth a fussy toddler. I pray to God this isn't a sex thing. It's already weird, I don't know HOW weird I can tolerate before I snap. "Daddy's gonna get you all cleaned up, okay? Then you can take a nap while he pack everything to go. We're going on a little road trip to our new home. Growing girls need clean air and flowers, after all."

Oooooh fuck.

Fuck, he DOES plan to take me to Eden.

Ooooh ho hooo, I am gonna DIE die. Like... super mega death. Class A with sparkles Death. Eden is a seemingly utopian dream garden. A cottage core painting brought to life. Problem is? It's built on the back of endless suffering. Cruelty and blood, atrocity and hell itself made real.

You could like in heaven... so long as you ignored what it cost others.

Destroying Eden is what triggers the Apocalypse. Because it's BUILT INTO THE PLANET. Like a massive tumor. A parasite. Killing an already dying world even FASTER. But? Again. If you wanted to get YOURS and damn the rest? Beautiful beyond measure.

His bathroom is exactly the sort of rich person nonsense I expected from a house this size. Too much space. I get set down on a bench. Because THAT'S normal to just.. fucking have. How the hell does it not MOLD? No, wait, concentrate. I do NOT want this man bathing me! Yes, he's seen me naked. A lot. But that wasn't touching! No touchy!

He comes back with a pitcher.

And I discover that I am saved. Bio-gel is incredibly water soluble. He pours water over where the blankets stick to me to free me. Has removed his shoes and watch. Everything, really, that can't afford to get wet. I find out why? When he carries me straight into a walk in shower.

Fully dressed.

....at least he's respecting my boundaries?

Never VOICED them, though. So I have no idea what this is. Washing off the blood maybe? We don't stay long. Or, rather, I don't stay long. Just long enough to remove most of the gel. Then I am swept off to a fancy jacuzzi tub. Oooooh, bubbles. Warm water. Warm and comfy, massaging wat jet lined seat. Blergle....

I think my brain is melting out.

Waaaarm soup. Bubbles. Cook my muscles until I am noodle. Leave me, I wanna die here.

I am utterly blissed out. Boneless. No longer even TRYING to keep track of my surroundings. The indulgent chuckle from above me? Should probably worry about that. But on the OTHER hand... what if I just continued to doze off, here, in what is clearly heaven's water filled embrace? Hands gather my hair. Gently begin to work what smells like fancy shampoo into it.

Spa day?

My sleepy brain says it's probably spa day or something. This is nice~

By the time everything is done, my limbs are heavy and boneless. Relaxed. At least, I'm PRETTY sure that's why I can't move so good. Mmmm, sleepy. Warm now. I list to the side, only to be caught gently. The guy helping me, helps me change. Comfy new clothes. Hair ready for sleep. Even carries me to a big ol bed. Tucks me in. How nice...

I'm forgetting something...

Feels important. But I'm TIRED. I'll deal with it in the morning.

"Ah~ my perfect girl, I can't wait to give you EVERYTHING." Whispers a voice, like a confession, before a kiss is pressed to my temple. "You were made to be loved. Adored. The perfect child meant for a perfect world. I can not wait to finally bring you HOME. God's mistake was making Adam."

"All I need, is Eve."

[frudoo]

OK SO THIS MIGHT BE RLLY DUMB but I’m gonna share it anyway

So like, imagine reader maybe introducing Bo to some band they like (im listening to Ghost rn so I’m picturing them but honestly it can be anything) and Bo gets super into that band. And reader lets him borrow a cd, “as long as he doesn’t break it” (said in kinda a jokey way)

And Bo breaks it on accident

And when he has to tell reader he (who has probably been severely punished as a child for breaking or losing his things, let alone a borrowed thing) is expecting screaming, maybe even hitting. He’s full on bracing himself for the absolute worst

And readers just like “oh that’s unfortunate:( but it’s alright, just replace it and be more careful next time:)” and just moves on with the conversation

And Bo’s like ????? Why aren’t you screaming at me????

And readers like ????? Why would I scream at you?????

Idk maybe this is dumb I’m sorry if it is

It’s not dumb at all, sugar!! Super sweet!

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse (Bo). GN reader!

Bo remembers the conversation clearly.

     “Who’d ya say this is?” He’d asked, nodding his head along to the third song of the CD you’d popped into the player of his truck. 

     “Ghost,” you’d replied with a grin, pleased that he was enjoying it.

     “Not bad,” He shrugged. “Can I, uh… can I keep it in here for now? Just ‘til ya need it back?”

     “Yeah, of course! Long as you don’t break it,” you’d said, nudging his arm gently.

     Well, shit.

     He broke it.

     He’d taken it out of the CD player to examine the disc, and when he tried to push it back in, it snapped in half. Bo thinks his heart did, too. Now here you are in his living room, yapping away about your day, living in ignorant bliss. Bliss he’s about to trample on. 

     “I broke your CD,” he blurts out, sweat pouring down his face despite every fan in the house being on. “M’sorry, didn’t mean to.”

     “Aw, that’s a shame. Just get a new one, I don’t mind. Was gonna let you have it anyway,” you frown sympathetically before perking back up to continue your story. “So anyway, this girl would not follow… me… What?”

     Bo’s staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, arms crossed over his body like he’s expecting you to hit him. God knows Trudy would have beaten him with her hand or fist or the largest switch she could manage. 

     “You’re… not gonna yell at me?” He questions in the softest tone you’ve heard since the first time you met him.

     “Why the hell would I yell at you over a CD? It’s really not a big deal,” you reach out to pat his hand with a confused laugh, frowning at the way he flinches. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

     “M’sorry,” He mutters, burying his face in his shaking hands.

     You move to sit beside him on the couch, carefully prying his hands away from his head so you can look at him. The despair reflecting back at you breaks your heart, and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist as he burrows into your neck. It’s a sight, watching big, bad Bo Sinclair cry, one you never wish to experience again. 

     “It’s just a CD, Bo. I’m not mad at you,” you reassure him when he finally collects himself, cupping one red cheek in your palm and running your thumb along it soothingly.

     Bo kisses your palm softly before gently pushing it away to give you a small smile. He’s calmer, now, like the terrified little creature tucked away in the deepest parts of his brain was offered some kind of reprieve, some kind of love. It’s foreign to him but it’s now something he craves, something he realizes he’s missed all his life.

     And he wants it all from you.

[haoboutyou]

fever dream | boo seungkwan

fluff | 894 words | food mention: soup

an: chanting rite of passage rite of passage nsnsjsjwjz here’s a sick fic

there are three things that come into seungkwan’s mind the moment he opens his eyes:

everything is too loud and piercing at the same time.

he must be dying because an angel is sitting right next to him.

the warm damp cloth on his forehead needs to be yeeted off immediately.

“good morning!”

contrary to your calming angelic presence, your cheery voice causes him to wince, way too bright for his current state. he moans, grunts escaping him as he tries to sit up. your hands rush to support him, pulling him up and adjusting his pillows to make him more comfortable. 

it takes a while for him to remember his current predicament– he’s hot and he’s cold (god, he wishes he’s yes and he’s no), and his skin feels sticky all over. it doesn’t help that the pounding on his head seemed to worsen the longer he looked straight too. 

seungkwan rubs his temple, attempting to soothe the headache. “ugh…what time is it?”

“it’s a little past 2pm.” you’re in his swivel chair, laptop sitting abandoned on the study table by the bed. removing the damp cloth, you give him a little pat on the head. his eyebrow shoots up, as if to question how you got into his room in the first place.

“jeonghan called me saying you’re sick. are you feeling any better now?”

ah, so it was the devil in disguise that sent an angel from heaven. seungkwan starts to nod, only to immediately wince when the throbbing got worse. you shoot him a look of pity, standing up from your seat.

“you haven’t eaten yet, right?” you’re walking closer to him, replacing the cloth on his forehead with the back of your hand. a frown appears when you realise his fever hasn’t gone down one bit. 

“gosh, you’re so hot!”

“only for you, baby.” his poor attempt at a wink is met with a deadpan face of your own, as you scrunch your nose at his reply.

“let’s get some food in you, yeah? then you can get some medicine.”

he watches as you disappear out of the room. seungkwan slumps back into his plush pillows, feeling only slightly better than he was this morning. 

it’s not that he wasn’t grateful for your presence. he just wasn’t expecting it. you had only been dating for a month, after all– he just wasn’t used to having you at his weakest.

nonetheless, he’s never been more thankful for your presence when you return, bowls carefully balanced on a tray. his stomach chooses this exact moment it let out a grumble; seungkwan flushes a slightly fever-induced red while you giggle. 

“soup,” you declare, setting his bowl down in front of him. you place yours on the study table, and he murmur a quick thanks before eating. you watch seungkwan for a moment, content with watching him eat before you touch your own. 

it’s a little odd for you to experience a subdued seungkwan completely unlike his normal boisterous self. however, that doesn’t stop the light conversation that fills the table as you both eat your dinner. 

his still-emerging fever fogs up his brain, so he opts to just listen to you ramble about your day instead. you laugh when he tells you how the soup warms his chest, getting rid of whatever chills he still had clinging on. seungkwan sighs in relief as the soup soothes his unexpectedly sore throat, prompting another chuckle. you push the box of tissues closer to him when you hear seungkwan start sniffling again.

he’s done with his bowl before you are, and you make sure he downs all of the medicine.

(he’s a little surprised at the assortment of medicine you present him with.

“wha- since when did we have all these?” 

“i dropped by the pharmacy first just in case! but kwan, you should really stock up on your medicine cabinet.” your frown of disapproval could not get any cuter.)

no really, seungkwan thinks he’s been blessed by an angel. he’s settled back in bed by the time you return from putting away the dishes, re-opening your laptop. he watches you work for a moment, letting the clicking sound of your keyboard lull him back to sleep. 

“thanks for coming, y/n.”

you pause, looking away from your screen. seungkwan has a dopey smile gracing his high cheeks, and you can see him physically fight the urge to succumb to the drowsy medicine.

your hand reaches out to comb through his hair. his fever’s gotten down slightly, you note. pushing his bangs up, you lean in to press a faint kiss on his forehead. 

“go to sleep, kwan. i’ll be here until your roommate gets back, alright?” gosh, how did he get so lucky? 

the gentle rhythm of your touch slowly pushes him back into a dreamless sleep. 

he thinks he might love you.

his sickness-ridden brain doesn’t realise that he’s said that out loud. your hand falters slightly at his words, but only barely. 

it doesn’t take long for seungkwan to fall back asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest and his soft snores a clear indicator. you can’t pull your hand back– his hand somehow found itself tightly intertwined with yours. 

it’s a little bit harder to do your work now, but that’s okay. you think you might love him too.

[buckyownsmylife]

let the games begin - sebastian stan smut

The one where you ask him to explain the pepsi cup scene to you

Warnings: best friends to lovers, best friend!reader, hopelessly in love!Seb, reader has hair long enough for Seb to “play with” but do with that as you wish, innocent!reader, smut.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: this is just a sweet little smutty one-shot of best friend!Seb realizing you feel the same for him. I didn't delve deep into the smut because to be honest, this has been in my WIP list since the movie came out and I just couldn't be bothered to write more than what's here, yet I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!

Seb’s P.O.V.

“You ready for this? You know we don’t have to watch it, right?” I tried to convince her one more time, and still, she just rolled her eyes and pulled me to the sofa next to her. Oh, how I loved to feel her smaller frame tightly pressed against mine.

“Don’t be silly, of course I want to watch it. I’ve seen everything you’ve ever done, I can’t let one slightly scarring movie keep me away from this long standing tradition.” It warmed my heart to think that she’d been doing this way before we even met.

I kissed her temple before adjusting so her body would rest against my chest, and settled in for the film. I knew it would be an experience, to say the least, watching this with her, so I tried to prepare myself for anything that could happen.

She could end up traumatized and unable to look me in the eye. At the very least, it would certainly serve as ammunition for her to tease me for years to come, and that was one turn of events I could deal with. The first one was my real concern.

So I settled in to watch the movie, because I figured it would be best to be around than to wait for her reactions afterwards. What if she never wanted to see me again? I knew it was just my anxiety coming up with the worst possibilities, but it still scared the crap out of me.

I couldn’t imagine my life without her anymore. And maybe one day I’d grow the courage to tell her about it, but for now, I was perfectly happy just sitting here with her and offering some support when my character started to freak her out.

“Hey, there you are!” She giggled in excitement, pointing at the TV like I wasn’t watching it with her. It made me chuckle, seeing her act like a little kid when it came to me doing my job. God, she was precious.

“Yeah, there I am,” I agreed, leaning over her to deposit a quick kiss against her temple, but much to my surprise all I got was a nudge and a hush. “Are you shushing me?” She finally unglued her eyes from the television to look at me with disappointment all over her features.

“Seb, I love you, but if you keep interrupting the movie, I’m gonna kick you out and there’s nothing you can do about that.” I wanted to point out that if she did, she’d have to watch it by herself and there was no way she’d be able to sleep, but I didn’t want to risk her fury. So I just sat back and pulled her with me, playing with her hair as I watched the story unfold before my eyes.

For whatever reason, I seemed to forget that I looked a bit… different in my role at some point, and as I gained weight before our eyes, she turned around to look at me with a look I couldn’t figure out. It made me nervous.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I had to ask, but she didn’t immediately answer me. I felt embarrassed, it was almost like she was comparing me to the man on the screen, and I didn’t know which one she preferred. 

Could it be that now that she’d seen me like that, she couldn’t unsee it?

“I’ve always thought you looked better when Don wasn’t trying to make you look like some sort of bodybuilder, but this role just confirmed it to me. You’re even sexier with some weight on your body.” 

My cheeks burned, and I didn’t know what to say. So I just cuddled her to me once more, focusing on the screen as I tried to work through my emotions - and there were many. Desire, barely concealed lust, something the hardening member inside my jeans wouldn’t let me forget - but also something warm and comfortable, settling deep inside my chest.

I didn’t want to give it a name. So I just pulled her to me yet again, kissed her temple and pretended to go back to watching the movie, while I waited for her attention to be redirected to it once more. When I was sure she wasn’t noticing me anymore, I got back to analyzing her reactions, chuckling under my breath at the way hers hitched at every little thing, and how she squeezed my thigh when she thought something scary would happen.

And then the car scene started. My muscles immediately froze underneath her, having completely forgotten about this particular part of the movie.

“What’s going on?” She asked, first surprised and then confused. “Is everything okay?” I couldn’t answer her. I couldn’t even look away from the screen, flinching as it developed right before my eyes. It was like my own self-made train wreck: unavoidable and paralyzing.

“Seb…” She reached out for my hand, asking for my attention, and I licked my lips and took a deep breath before turning to give it to her.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” I was about to tell her that I was just embarrassed, but the confusion in her eyes as they darted from the TV to my embarrassed self suddenly made sense to me.

“Wait,” I started, holding her jaw so she’d fix her eyes on mine and forget about the movie for a second. “You don’t understand the scene?” She hesitated for a second before nodding, biting her lower lip in that way she did when she was nervous.

It made the warmth inside my chest expand and take over my entire body, shooting straight to my lower belly, where it began to burn. 

Fuck. Who would have thought that she was so innocent?

“Do you want me to tell you?” The question left my lips before I could ponder if my concern came from a valid place - my desire to help her, always. 

But maybe things happened for a reason - maybe it was some sort of ungodly gift the idea of watching this movie together, because as I watched her glance over at the screen again and then lay her eyes on me, I saw it with perfect clarity:

She was aroused by it.

“Or would you like me to show you?” Another question that slipped from my lips unintentionally, another sentence I didn’t regret speaking. This… tension, it had always been here, between the both of us. I’d been too much of a coward to act on it before so if the ball was on my court now, it was time to let it roll.

“’Cause I’d be more than happy to.” With my last reassurance, the thread between us broke, and in a second, we were kissing. Who made the first move, I’d never know. All I cared about was her taste, how sweet she was, and the tiny little whimpers I could hear escaping her when I had to pull back to take a breath.

My body still acting of its own accord, I got up from the couch to take my pants off, hand immediately going to my hardness to release some of the frustration she was causing me. Thankfully, she didn’t seem scared - just hungry, looking at me with doe eyes and biting down on her lower lip before I pulled her closer so that her hand rested over mine.

“Fuck…” I whispered against her neck at the first contact of her hand on my naked dick, but for some reason that was all it took for the spell to break.

“Seb, I can’t…” She pulled away from me, chest still heaving from desire, but I felt so damn guilty I couldn’t even feel good about it. “I can’t do this and then pretend that it didn’t happen.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

His face softened up instead of becoming angry, like I expected it would. “Come.” He got up from the couch, offering me his hand, which I took without second-guessing myself.

His eyes told me everything I needed to know.

He took me to his bed, where he kissed me deeply once again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be patient.” How could I say that I’d let him do anything to me?

Within seconds, I was naked. It was unlike any other similar experience I’d ever lived, and the way he stared at me only had me falling deeper into the cloud of comfort that only Seb could provide me.

“Spread your legs for me, honey.” I did so instinctively, also closing my eyes in nervousness at what was happening.

“Keep looking at me,” he asked, and so I reopened my eyes, finding him staring at my most private spot with hunger in his. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

Before I could comprehend what was happening, he’d yanked me to the edge of the bed and proceeded to kneel down before me, lips kissing my inner thighs and navel while I panted softly.

“Fuck, I can’t believe that I get to taste you,” he uttered before his tongue stuck out and he did just that… He tasted me, and nothing had ever felt quite as great as that simple gesture.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” He asked in the midst of attacking my clit with his tongue and lips, the hot muscle swirling over it and making my head spin. “Do you like this?”

“Yes, yes!” I nodded, hand flying down to hold him by the hair and keep him attached to me. “More, I want more.”

“What?” He teased me, the devious thing. “You want what?”

“More,” I insisted, pushing him down so his face would connect with my pussy once more. He didn’t keep up with his pretense and kept on licking me until I saw stars behind my closed eyelids, screaming his name for dear life.

“Kiss me,” I begged breathlessly once I was able to speak again, and he leaned over me to grant me my wish, allowing me to taste myself for the first time in my life.

“You know…” I struggled to find the courage to say what I wanted, but I knew I could trust Sebastian. “When we actually do it, you don’t need to be so gentle…”

He bit my shoulder in response, shaking his head at my antics. I thought I was dreaming, being naked in his bed, having just had the best orgasm of my life.

I wanted to do this for the rest of my life.

“I don’t want to go to sleep tonight,” I confessed, watching as the most beautiful smile opened up in my best friend’s face.

“Lucky for you, there are a ton of things we can do to pass the time.”

[inkyquince]

Sincerely, Bailey (Commission)

characters. Bailey. (Hinted Briar. And Harper is Bcc'd out of worry)

cw. implied drunken bailey. violence, both physical and sexual. angry emotional bailey. mentions of sex trafficking, Robin slander. dubious consent of treatment of pc.

notes. Letter Commission for PippyLI! Once again, SO sorry how long it took to get out, having to do IRL stuff for a year basically sucked. Hope you enjoyed angry emotional Bailey! Thank you! Sorry i was FIGHTING to get this into an email format but oh my god it wasn't working at all.

From: CaretakersForYourNeeds@ub.com 

To: thorns@ub.com

Subject: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

B, look over this draft before I send it. 

Hello Customer! 

We are having a big sale on our boys coming in and sprucing up your home! Spend over £250 on our service and we shall knock off £20 to a whole new paint job for a whole room! Then £10 off for every third room painted! Spend over £500 on our service and we shall install new radiators for half price! 

Enough of that. If your wife reads further than that paragraph of what’s an obvious spam email, she’s too stupid to to be alive. Get rid of her and stop wasting my time. 

This is more of a courtesy email about your inquiry into one of our selections, number 209. I’ve been the caretaker of numbers 191 to 220 for a long time, and I can personally attest that that product is not suited for what you’ve outlined you wish to do. I know on their file it recommends consumers should enjoy taming, sadism, bondage at most in order to get any use out of them. However, in my professional opinion, they should be taken off the list and left to the gropers and rapists wandering the town, and the customers at the brothel. 

In my personal experience, they would have benefited to be put directly into the brothel  or the farm right away. Give them hands-on experience immediately rather than wasting time making them make money by themselves. They started out very promising in the beginning, very malleable but have proven to be a nuisance to both myself and the people around them. Either that or be put permanently underneath my care to make sure minor annoyances are kept at a minimum. 

They refuse to behave, even under threat of assault or worse. I do not think that anyone other than myself could handle them. Now, before I get a complaint from you, no, it’s not because I’m their caretaker and have paternal feelings towards them. I’ve watched them get their cunt stretched out by strange cocks too much to care about if they have a good time having sex. I would be helping the public by keeping them under lock and key. 

So my counter offer will be to take their friend, #201 in return. A whiny crybaby who reacts well to sadism. Of course, you might have to deal with them trying to save the little shit, but we don’t cover fees to do with losing a product halfway through your paid time. Just a warning. For a price of 30% of your original payment I could keep them busy so there’s no chance of missing out on your full 12 hours of paid time. 

I would be prepared to spend those 12 hours showing them exactly what happens when you don’t listen the first time. I’ve noticed that they become pliant to a rough fuck the longer it goes on, if they’re allowed to bite and get a few scratches in. No better than a mewling beast once all their thoughts go to their clit. They also seem fixated on riling me up enough to drag them down and fuck them. With other’s they bite and scratch and use pepper spray (I have no idea where they keep getting these, the supply in town is very limited), but despite the threats of shipping them off to the brothel or to a close friend, they instead fight. But no, they don’t fight me in a coherent, normal way, no, they’re diving for my cock and trying to make me cum while I’m trying to teach them to pay their rent on time. 

They love it. They love angering me, they love going into my office, they love offering up their body for a “one time” extension, even though they keep doing it, no matter how many times I ruin them against my desk, their cunt gripping me so tightly. Maybe they have a fucked up crush, or maybe they’re just sick in the head. 

But I can’t get rid of them, they bring in so much mney that I can’t kick them out. They bring in rent, they keep the other little shits quiet and they’re so fuckin good at their job that I have insane fuckheads like you asking personally to request them. But who cares, they clamp around a cock disgustingly tight, they suck down cock like it’ll divorce them if they don’t and now I have to write this breakdown on why you can’t experience that at 3am and getting hard while I do it. I never fuck orphans but apparently they live to make my day miserable and start off with a double of vodka with no fuckin mixer. All because some fuck came in after being kicked in the dick by this little shithead and wanted his fucking money back. I have to write fucking disclaimers now. What the fuck. 10 years ago we didn’t have to do this shit. What do you mean I have to spend 12 hours of my day fucking this Bin Baby so that they won’t wander away and save the most annoying boy I’ve ever met? What the fuck. The other day I had to fucking jerk off to when they buried their face in my crotch and whined for my dick. If it was anyone else, I’d kick them in the crotch until they would have to go to hospital. 

I have no idea what fucking crack their mother was smoking before throwing them in the dumpster but now I’m stuck with a little asshole who loves my dick and won’t fucking behave. You want to fuck that? Try to and you won’t be fucking found. I will fucking wring that stupid addictive scent of their body, their cunt, out of your skin, and sell it to the nearest freak. You want Morgan wearing your fucking skin for touching them? I’ll take your teeth so no one will ever fucking find you, but who would care, your wife? The one who might read a spam email? And doesn’t care that your dick hasn’t worked except for when she shit out your crotch spawn? You think I won’t fuck you up for the sake of your kids who are older than my fucking orphan? 

Fuck you and your ugly fucking kids. 

Sincerely, 

Blailey

P.S briar should i also add that if you stick your thumb in their asshole they tighten up enough that i can see stars? that the first time i fucked them i fucking said that their body always belonged to me? and it fuckin was and still is. i should break their stupid little boyfriend’s nose for thinking they own that little slut. the smell of their shower wash is fuckin insane but it isnt. makes me want to fuck their thighs and make them walk around all day smelling of cum. briar who even is this stupid fuck. 

From: thorns@ub.com

To: me

Bcc: Harper@nhs.com

Subject: RE: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

An insane person wrote this. No client will buy anything after reading this. Stop it.

-B

P.S. you misspelled money, as well as your own name. How. Are you smoking something that you aren’t sharing with the class? Also have you ever even heard of an oxford comma? Eden was the drop out, not you.

P.P.S. Don’t punch kids. Also stop drinking. 

[nipuni]

OHHHHHHHHH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'LL NEVER BE THE SAME AFTER THIS!!!!!! THIS ENDING?? THIS WHOLE EVERYTHING!!!!! WHERE DO I EVEN START I'M SO STUNNED!!!! WHAT!!!!!

"The end of time" was the most incredible ending I could have asked for!!! We finished watching it all at 3am last night and we spent all of today yelling about it, I can't believe just how good this was!!! I'm so glad we've never watched this show before while this was airing so that we get to watch it all fresh for the first time because we are having the time of our lives now

It was completely devastating and so so inspiring, just exactly how I was hoping for it to be, I already want to rewatch S1 to S4 all over again 😭 the sheer comfort I get from the character of the doctor is insane, I've never rooted for a character so hard and wholeheartedly in my life, he really is the most wonderful being in the universe I'm in tears I'm Wilfred rn what the fuck man I'll never recover from this!!! I feel like a ten year old kid with a new superhero GOD IT WAS ALL SO GOOD I CAN'T ARTICULATE I'd yell about each scene but I'm aware that pretty much everyone has watched this ages ago so you know and I still wouldn't want to spoil anyone that hasn't just in case because going into this unspoiled and knowing nothing about it has been the most satisfying experience ever and I hope more people get to have it too!!! please if you haven't watched this before go do that!! and if you have and it's been a while do it again!!! the acting?? INSANE!! the writing!! incredible!! I have only good things to say!!! I only wish we had 1000 more seasons with RTD and David Tennant I really love this man, I'm so sad to see him go!!! and so happy to get him back for the 60 special!!

When we got to the last episodes of season 4 I was expecting pain and instead I got an unexpected fix-it device that was rather strange but cute so I was somewhat relieved and confused, then the holidays specials were pretty standard and lighthearted AND THEN THE WATERS OF MARS? INSANE EPISODE, I loved it so much, that whole part at the end FANTASTIC they went there and I LOVE them for it!! another favourite episode for sure, and THEN THE END OF TIME?? by this point Nicolas and I were twisted into a single pretzel on the couch bracing ourselves, it went from extremely intense to SO FUNNY to heartbreaking and just...amazing!!! AAAAAA anyway!! I had to get all that out of my system, now onwards to S5!!! I'm curious to meet Matt Smith's doctor 😊

[snapghoul]

Renegade Rebel(s) with the pedal to the floor

In which the twins meet up again in Oklahoma and Bradley experiences first hand that the twins are more alike than he thought.

Notes: A sprinkle of hangster (or my attempt at it) also I love using songs and titles. The Glen Powell brain rot is real.

Warnings: foul language

“God, I fucking hate commercial flights,” Bradley groaned, stretching his back as they exited the sliding doors of the terminal. The cramped seats had him aching all over, worse than the confined cockpit of his jet.

“Well, you didn’t have to come,” Jake teased, grinning as he adjusted his duffel bag. “But I’d feel bad leaving you behind while Maverick’s off doing his thing.” At first, Rooster’s request to join Jake on this trip had surprised him. It wasn’t as if Rooster had family to visit, and Maverick was off with Penny.

The Dagger squad had been granted an extended leave due to a lull in missions, giving Jake the perfect opportunity to visit his brother and then take a road trip down to Texas.

“So where’s…”

Bradley’s question was abruptly cut off by the blaring horn of a truck that roared into the pickup zone, looking like something straight out of a Mad Max film.

“Never mind,” Bradley finished, shaking his head in disbelief. Jake’s smile, wide and radiant, was almost blinding. Seeing Jake so excited was a new experience for Bradley, and it stirred a strange, pleasant feeling in his chest—one he couldn’t quite place.

Tyler stepped out of the truck, his face lighting up as he saw Jake. “Welcome to Oklahoma!” he shouted, his enthusiasm matching Jake’s. He and Jake exchanged a quick, brotherly hug before Tyler turned his attention to Bradley.

“And you must be Rooster,” Tyler said, extending a hand. “Jake’s told me a lot about you. Thanks for coming along.”

Bradley shook Tyler’s hand, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach. “Nice to meet you, Tyler. I’m sure Jake’s exaggerated everything I’ve done.”

Jake laughed. “Just the stupid shit and how you got your ass shot outta the sky.”

Bradley still felt a flutter in his chest, despite Jake’s attempt to mask it with a sarcastic remark. Out of everyone, he’d never have expected Jake to speak so positively about him. It was disorienting, yet oddly comforting.

“Look, you two showed up at just the right time,” Tyler said, practically bouncing with excitement as they loaded the truck. “We’ve got some impressive cells developing to the east. Kate—remember Kate?—thinks we might see a few EF1s and 2s today, and—”

Bradley’s eyes widened as Tyler’s words sunk in. Storm chasing. The idea was both exhilarating and intimidating. He watched as Jake and Tyler’s energy seemed to feed off each other, their enthusiasm almost palpable. It was a bit frightening, and he could only imagine what he’d gotten himself into.

“Wait—” Bradley leaned forward, trying to process this new information. “We’re storm chasing?”

Jake and Tyler turned to him with wicked grins. “Absolutely,” Jake said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You didn’t think we’d spend our time off just lounging around, did you?”

Bradley stared at them, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. “I thought we’d just be hanging out with your family, catching up.”

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. “That was part of the plan, we’re hanging out right?And besides, who doesn’t want to experience a storm up close?”

Bradley swallowed hard, grappling with the realization that he was about to dive headfirst into something far outside his comfort zone. He could handle missiles and dogfights—things he could control to some degree—but Mother Nature was an entirely different beast.

“I wish you’d told me this before I bought my ticket,” Bradley said, casting a reproachful look at Jake.

Jake flashed him a confident smile. “You’ll be fine, Roo. Besides, I knew you’d chicken out if you knew in advance… no pun intended.”

Tyler snorted with laughter as they pulled out of the pickup zone, the rumble of the truck filling the silence. Bradley tried to suppress his nerves, focusing instead on the excitement radiating from the twins. Their enthusiasm was infectious, even if it did add to his own apprehension.

“You two are insane.”

“Yes sir!” “Damn straight.”

Bonus:

“Mav, help me, I’ve made a grave mistake. Well, multiple mistakes, but—actually, no, just one big Hangman-shaped one.” Bradley mumbled into his phone, watching from a far field as the red truck charged toward the funnel cloud. He’d bailed after getting swept up in the first tornado.

[ophelianated]

Average day at the mansion, but make it (kinda) historically accurate vol.2

Me walking in on the first day in shorts and a t-shirt:

The residents clutching their collective pearls, scrambling to throw blankets and coats at me: Mademoiselle??? Mademoiselle why are you naked??? Comte why did you not beclothe her??? What in God's name is wrong with you???

Dazai lighting a cigarette while we're talking:

Arthur materializing out of thin air: How DARE YOU sir??!! Can't you see there's a LADY right there???? And you call yourself a man??!

Dazai: What-

Arthur putting on boxing gloves, ready to fight him:

Dazai: WHAT-

Sebastian doing a last round through the mansion before turning in for the night, frozen on the stairs:

Leonardo and I dragging a dirty, half-rotten corpse through the foyer: ...This is exactly what it looks like but it doesn't have to be a big deal

Isaac being forcibly removed from his lab for the fifth time that month: Listen to reason! This could mark the beginning of the next scientific revolution!

Sebastian and Theo restraining him: And what good is that if you don't have functioning eyes to see it???

Comte watching shit go down, cool as a cucumber: No no, let him go, I wish to see what will come of his experiments

Sebastian: Monsieur pLEASE-

Vincent: Those wretched voices kept me up all night, I didn't catch a wink of sleep

Jeanne dropping her gardening tools, slowly turning towards him in alarm: Is France in danger again?

Vincent: ...What

Napoleon nearly falling out a first floor window: France is in danger????

Vincent: What- no??? They were telling me that I'm a good-for-nothing drunkard??? France is fine???

Me: So you're a lying liar who lies for your own entertainment, and for others' so they'll pass you off as an obvious fraud and won't start digging in earnest

Comte: Precisely

Me: You're also an immense weirdo on top of that

Comte: So I've been told

Me: ...I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Monsieur

Sebastian: bends over backwards every day to keep Arthur and Jeanne from interacting because the first (and last) time he mentioned "the Anglo-Saxon race ruling the world" in her presence she nearly killed him, and is clearly not done trying

[deleteddewewted]

Spicey Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu fic ^°^)c god speed and I hope you have a good day!

Unvirgining Fatgum

A/n: Something very horny mixed in with feelings cause i love this character so much.

MDNI

W: Rookie Hero! Fatgum, Virgin! Fatgum, Gn! Reader, S/D themes, Hickeys, Biting, Cum Eating, Creampie, Snowballing

Taishiro prided himself in that he was a good person, maybe not the best, but he was a good person. He wasn't the top of his class nor was he anything impressive when it came to merchandising himself but he did know how to talk. He was friendly and he made sure to always put on his best smile for the public. It was useful to him, being nice meant people trusted him but it also brought on doubts about his ability to be a hero. He was still fresh faced and at 20 it meant that he was nothing but a Rookie when it came to heroics. He was still discovering everything he could do when it came to quirk too so he was truly a novice when it came to all of this.

He wished he could be higher up the ranks since it came with more opportunity and money, he was getting tired of eating microwaved meals and ramen. So when he got the chance to work alongside a more popular Pro, he took it.

He met you outside the police station while you were talking to Tsukauchi. You were a few years older him, a hero he had watched rise to a greater rank while he was still in school. He liked your style, the way you carried yourself in public. You set boundaries easily with people and didn't entertain the press to much. You were also a victim of his attraction. He liked you a lot. He often found himself fantasizing about you while he was attempting to complete reports. He remembered the first time you had met, you had waved at him and told him he was cute after he had asked you a question that had him blushing.

When he had privacy in his apartment he also found himself thinking of you as he took care of himself with the use of his hand or a pocket pussy. Your body, your voice, everything about you was perfection. Your features suit you perfectly and he couldn't help himself. He wondered if you would be gentle with him, if you'd take care of him when you guys have sex for the first time.

Working with you drove him up the wall but him getting the chance to go out drinking with you made the feelings he felt worse. He was 2 drinks deep and he already wasn't acting like his usual self. He couldn't help but watch you and perve on you. His usual subtle glances were now obvious and sluggish. He's sure that at some point he ended up licking his lips when you bent over cause you dropped something. He couldn't stop himself from lusting over you and he felt a little gross cause you were technically his superior. You had more experience, you where a few years older, you were more mature about things like this.

He thinks that's why he happily agreed to go home with you. He paid both of your tabs and you drove him home just how you had driven him to the bar. The moment the two of you made it into your apartment, you were both on each other. You took off his clothes, his uniform, and made sure to get him on his back on your bed. His mask was taken off and thrown somewhere on the floor all while you stripped sitting on his lap. You kissed, touched him, left hickeys on his neck, and had him moaning into your mouth and into the room. You had him cumming into your palm, shaking like a leaf as he held onto you looking for an anchor.

Taishiro's body felt like jello and he was sure that whatever little fat he still had left in him had melted away. When you gave him a break, he laid on your bed taking in what just happened. He loved it. Loved all of it. Your mouth and teeth on his skin, the scent of you and him mixed in the air. He liked laying in your sheets, red-faced and sweaty as you cooed at him asking if he wanted a drink or if he wanted to do it again.

He wanted more, to taste you, to fuck you, to have you call his name. And he did. You were filled to the brim with him, his dick pounding into you as he babbled on about how you were everything he wanted. You were his first. He was happy you were his first. He mentioned wanting to be yours to have you be his.

"This position isn't enough." He flipped you over, your face into the mattress that was damp with sweat and cum and buried himself deeper. You couldn't stop yourself from going crossed-eyed and screaming his name out like a prayer. He couldn't stop himself from cumming again, and again, inside you. The more he trusted the more cum came out and coated his dick and your ass and legs. The more he fucked into you the more he lost himself in the feeling.

By the end, he begged you to let him eat you. He needed to taste you and him, wanted to see if he tasted better in you. He relished in the taste of your skin, your sex, your body, his seed and your own release. He drank from you and made it his mission to stuff you full with his tongue next.