#he's so fine i wanna devour his soul

[whoisspence]

i might be turning into a boyband reid fanpage

[totallynotmina]

SAD BEAUTIFUL TRAGIC.

❝ kiss me, try to fix it. could you just try to listen? ❞

info. re6 leon 𝔁 fem reader. i wanna say reader is like helena's age maybe? it doesn't really matter. established relationship. very angsty with a bittersweet ending. leon's a mess ok but he swears he loves you. mentions of alcohol consumption/alcoholism. sfw, spare for a handful of somber, desperate kisses.

notes. i don't listen to taylor like i did when i was thirteen but this song is so ugh. reblogs & comments are always appreciated. <3

wc. 3.9k | ao3 link

You’d tried to fix him, as if stitching together the frayed edges of his soul could silence the storm inside him. But every attempt only left you more hollow, more desperate. His misery seeped into your home like an uninvited guest, a shadow that devoured the light, eroding the fragile moments you used to call happiness. Leon had become a ghost of the man you’d fallen for—present in body but distant, unreachable, and haunting in his silence.

The walls between you grew thicker with every passing day. Words, once tender and easy, had become brittle and sharp. No matter how far you reached, his touch always seemed just out of grasp, his warmth slipping further from your fingertips.

Your mother always said: never give more love than you receive. But she’d never prepared you for how impossible that would feel when the person you loved most was unraveling before your eyes. The weight of it all dragged you to new lows, a kind of emotional exhaustion that made your chest ache and your mind wonder when the dam would finally break—when you’d either stop loving him or lose yourself entirely.

The rain pattered insistently against the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder shaking the silence. When the front door clicked open, your heart jolted despite yourself. His heavy footsteps echoed in the stillness, as familiar as they were foreboding. You tried to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blurred, forgotten the second they hit your mind.

You didn’t need to look up to know. The way the air shifted, the subtle tension of his presence—it was Leon. You could already feel it, the simmering frustration he carried like a second skin.

Figures.

His keys clattered onto the console table, a metallic sound that cut through the quiet like an accusation. His bag followed with a dull thud, then the sigh—low, heavy, resigned. You looked up in time to catch the way his hair clung to his rain-soaked face, his boots kicked off haphazardly by the door.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you thought—hoped—he might smile. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn't even be bothered to spare you, his sweet girlfriend, a single glance.

“You’re home,” you murmured, stepping cautiously closer, your voice barely louder than the rain.

Leon hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came. The silence was a knife, sharp and cold, carving through the fragile hope you hadn’t yet managed to smother.

He flinched when you reached for his arm. That hurt most of all.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice rough and distant, as if it was a chore.

“You didn’t,” you replied softly. “I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew you were okay.”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, baby blue eyes darting away in shame. Leon didn't want you to see how tired he looked, how the weight of his missions—or maybe the weight of everything—had stretched him thin.

"Is everything—"

"I'm fine." The words came too quickly, too curt. They were meant to end the conversation, but all they did was light a fresh spark of frustration in your chest. He brushed past you, his worn leather jacket hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

You picked it up with a quiet sigh, hanging it on the coat rack as if that small act of care might bridge the growing chasm between you. "You don't look fine," you said, keeping your tone gentle, almost cautious. Talking to your boyfriend shouldn't feel like tip-toeing around glass. Was it so wrong to be concerned about the man you loved so hopelessly?

Leon didn't answer. He collapsed onto the edge of couch, his elbows on his knees, calloused hands running through his semi-damp hair. His silence, albeit suffocating, spoke louder than words—another wall, another barrier he so intricately placed between the two of you.

"Leon," you tried again, siting beside him, voice trembling with the heavy load of everything you wanted to say. Trying to get a single, meaningful sentence out of Leon these days felt like pulling teeth. "Please, just talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." His tone was clipped, but underneath the surface, you heard the slight crack, the exhaustion bleeding through the cracks. You could see it in the way Leon's eyes were half-lidded, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, his fingers digging into his eyelids. The exasperated sigh he let out was the cherry on top.

You replied softly, equally as exhausted, "I'm not an idiot."

Finally, Leon snapped, like a rubber band pulled taut, "Why do you always have to push?" His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch—and you did. Regret flickered in his eyes almost instantly, but it wasn't enough to stop the sting. The slap had already been left on your poor cheek.

Why do you always have to push? His words repeat over and over again in your mind, like a broken record. 

That wasn't fair, you always gave Leon the space he deserved after his long, taxing missions, but tonight you were struggling to stay afloat. It wasn't fair to you, constantly playing nice even when he showed zero signs of changing any time soon. He had to realize that this wouldn't slide, not anymore.

And as much as it troubled your lovesick heart, if Leon wasn't willing to let you in, then he wasn't ready for a relationship. A healthy one, at least.

"Because I love you!" you cried, the words bursting out before you could stop them, raw and desperate. "Because I'm here, Leon, and I'm fucking trying, but you just won't let me in, no matter how hard I try. You just—" You stopped, swallowing thickly, trying to steady your cracking voice. "Y-You just keep shutting me out like I'm some stranger you couldn't give a damn about."

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it had been triggered. Leon looked at you then, really looked, and for a moment, you thought he might finally say what you needed—no, deserved—to hear. But instead, he shook his head, sullen gaze falling to the carpeted floor.

"You don't get it." he said, barely above a whisper. "You couldn't."

Honestly, you'd prefer if Leon had kept his mouth shut. Not a single word of reassurance, or an I love you too, baby. The sickening, heavy weight of his cruel sentiment settled deep in your bones, nearly rattling you in place.

"That's not fair," you bit down on your bottom lip, a poor attempt at keeping your composure. "Maybe I don't understand everything you've been through, but I'm here for you because I love you," pathetic, so pathetic, "and I want to help. Why won't you let me? Why do you insist on wallowing in your own misery?"

Leon stood abruptly, his movements sharp, restless. "Because it's not that simple." Just the way he said that made you feel stupid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Every time I leave, I don't know if I'll come back," he stared directly at you, burning holes into your own eyes, "And when I do, I'm not the same. I can't give you what you want. I don't know how."

Tears dewed your lash line, "Then learn," you pleaded, standing up and grabbing ahold of his hand. "If you love me, if you really care...then try. That's all I want." If only he knew how much it killed you to watch him fall apart while he kept you at an arm's length.

With a sharp sigh, he scowled, "I am trying," his tone was terse, cold. "Can't you see that? Can't you see how hard it is for me to come home and pretend everything's okay when it's really not?" Leon scoffed in disbelief. Fucking fantastic. After a barely surviving a demanding mission that sucked the soul out of him, now he was arguing with his girlfriend that didn't have the slightest idea of the things he witnessed.

The look of pure anguish on your pretty face tugged at Leon's heartstrings. The little pout, most of all. Poor you looked so shaken up, unable to utter a single word in response. "You deserve someone who can give you something better than this, baby." He freed his hand from your grasp, and brought it up to your cheek, his thumb stroking over the soft skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

But you still relented, "You don't get to decide that for me, Leon. You don't get to push me away because you think it's easier." Your hand clasped over his, moving it away from your cheek and back down to his side. His lips part.

“Is this about her?” you then asked, the bitterness oozing into your gentle tone before you could stop it.

As if his night couldn't get any worse...He knew exactly who you were talking about, and it made his blood boil.

Leon blinked, his brows furrowing. "What?"

Feigning ignorance. Classic. An insult to your intelligence, really.

“Ada.” You hated the salty way the name tasted on your tongue. “Is that why you’re like this? Because she’s still in your head? Or because you think I’ll never measure up to her?” 

You didn’t need Leon to answer that; the thought alone was enough to unravel you. Ada was everything you weren’t—dangerous, intoxicating, unattainable. She moved through the world like she owned it, all sharp smiles and quiet confidence, the kind of woman who left destruction in her wake but made you thank her for it anyway.

She didn’t ask for love; she demanded it, consumed it, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. How could you, with your soft edges and wide-open heart, ever hope to compare? You weren’t a storm—just the aftermath, picking up the pieces she’d shattered. If anything, you felt like some naïve, wide-eyed child who had no perception of the real world—you could never hold a candle to her.

Leon's face twisted, a flicker of anger lighting his tired eyes. "Don't even go there," he seethed, "This has nothing to do with her. This is about me, and my problems." Funny how he'd gotten so defensive all of a sudden.

"Isn't it, though?" you challenged, matching his tone. "Because it feels like I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met. I don't— I don't even know if you're really here with me, or if part of you is still chasing after her."

You got him there. "That's not fair," Leon said, his voice low but icy. He wasn't outright denying anything, much to your dismay. Nausea churned in your stomach at the thought him truly still loving her. The fact that you couldn't even blame him either made it all the more painful.

"Fair?" you echoed, frustration coursing hotly through your veins. "No, you know what isn't fair, Leon? Loving someone who's too scared to let me in. Someone who would rather run far, far away from me than let their guard down." It was getting harder and harder to suppress your tears, and Leon noticed.

God, Leon felt so sick. How the fuck was he supposed to fix this now?

Before he got the chance to say something in response—as if he had anything to say—you continued your siege, "You don't get to keep doing this. You don't get to keep pushing me away and shutting me out and then expecting me to stay with open arms." And legs.

His lips parted, but whatever words he had to say succumbed to their death, strangling his throat, before they could even reach you. A single tear rolled down your cheek, finally slipping free.

"I can't do this right now." you whimpered, shaking your head in disbelief and backing away from him.

"Wait—" But you were already retreating towards your shared bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you, quiet but final. Leon stood frozen in the middle of the dimly lit living room, staring at the empty space where you had been pouring your heart just moments ago.

And you were gone. Out of sight, but the sound of your sobs and cries echoed throughout the small apartment.

Leon ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting out a shuddering breath. He felt deflated, even more drained and tired than he initially had when he first stepped through the front door. The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the silence that enveloped the place felt heavier. Suffocating.

His gaze drifted towards the kitchen, eyeing a specific cabinet. Leon knew he shouldn't—knew you hated it when he turned to the bottle instead of you—but the ache in his chest was unbearable.

He needed something, anything, to dull the edges of his agonizing guilt.

His hands still trembled as he poured a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the lamp. Leon stared at it for a long moment, trying to find the strength to resist—and he almost did, almost poured the poison down the drain.

But then, like always, he brought the glass up to his lips, and took a slow, deliberate sip, swallowing it down neat. The burn was familiar, grounding, but it did little to quell the thoughts racing through his mind. He'd never felt so pathetic, so miserable in his entire life.

You deserved better than this. Better than him.

"I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met."

You were right. Damn it, you were right. Leon had been so caught up in his own head, caught in a quicksand of despair, that he didn't even realize he was doing exactly what he feared most—dragging you into his own mess. He was tearing you apart at the seams, stitch by stitch, without even realizing it.

That wasn't even the half of it, though. Ada. He hated that her name had come up, hated that she still lingered like a dark, looming shadow, haunting the spaces between you with a coy smile on her red lips. But the thing is, you weren't her. You weren't some fleeting, elusive dream. You were real, here, and you loved him despite all the reasons he thought you shouldn't.

The drink wasn't helping. If anything, it only heightened the feelings of remorse. With a frustrated sigh, Leon set the empty glass down with a thud, and scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. He decided doing some paperwork might do a better job at keeping his mind off things.

Fast forward an hour, and it in fact, had not helped him. Not even in the slightest. He groaned, slumping over his desk and burying his face in his hands, an air of weariness surrounding him like a thick, stormy cloud. Leon sat in the quiet, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him until he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his swivel chair, and head straight over to the sweetest girl he knew.

His steps were slow and prudent, as if each step towards the bedroom door was a battle in itself, a march to the guillotine. Leon hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before swallowing his pride and finally knocking softly.

"...It's me, baby." Who else would it be? He mentally chastised himself for sounding so pitiful. "Can I come in?"

There was a long beat of silence from your end. Leon almost thought you might not answer. He wouldn't be mad if you didn't. But then came your precious voice, muffled and tired. "The door's not locked."

Cautiously, Leon pushed it open, his heart was pounding in the confines of his chest—like he'd drunk an entire pot of coffee—as he stepped inside the bedroom. You were sitting on the floor cross-legged, back against the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your body, as if you were holding yourself together, afraid of collapsing like a house of cards caught in a gust of wind.

Christ, the sight nearly tore Leon apart; he couldn't even begin to imagine how you were feeling.

"Hey, sweet thing," he said softly, unsure of where to begin. He strode towards you, kneeling down to your level, and brought a hand up to stroke your tear-stained cheek. You grimaced. "I...I wanted to talk. Apologize."

You, however, didn't say anything in response, didn't lean into his touch like you always did. You even refused to meet his gaze, unsurprisingly. It hurt Leon nonetheless, but at least you weren't frantically kicking him out. He took that as permission to continue.

"I'm sorry," his voice was thick with remorse and shame, "For what I said earlier. For...everything, really. I didn't mean any of it."

"You didn't mean it, or you didn't mean to say it out loud." Ouch.

Leon winced, the words hitting him harder than he expected, like a bitch slap right across the face. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he pleaded, "Jesus, I could never. I was—" he stopped himself, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "I've been an ass. Taking all my shit out on you when you've done nothing but try to help me."

Finally, your bloodshot eyes meet his, sharp but wounded. "You think an apology fixes this? Think it erases the way you've been shutting me out, making me feel like I'm not enough for you?" you hissed bitterly, swatting his hand away from your face like an obnoxious mosquito. Leon swallowed thickly, backing up a bit.

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "I know it doesn't. I just...I just don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" you asked. "Let someone love you?"

"Yeah," Leon admitted, feeling like an open wound. "That. Letting someone in, it...it scares me, baby. I can't help it."

You stared at him for a long moment. He could see the war in your eyes—the hurt battling against the love you still hopelessly felt for him. "I don't need you to be perfect, Leon. I just need you to try. To meet me halfway." It was the least he could, wasn't it?

"I want to. I will. I just...I need you to know that I love you, even when I'm too much of a coward to show it. I love you. And I'm sorry for making you feel like that isn't true."

For a fraction of a second, Leon thought he'd won you over, mended your shattered heart, and that things would go back to normal, like when you first started seeing each other. However, that hope crumbled the moment you didn't kiss him back, his chapped lips lingering awkwardly over yours. He pulled away in shame.

"No, Leon." You wiped at your eyes, frustrated by the tears you couldn't hold back, streaming hotly down your cheeks. "You don't get to say you're sorry and just expect me to forget how much this has been hurting me." The lovelorn, sick part of you just wanted to accept his semi-sincere apology and move on with your life, but the more self-respecting half had overpowered that desire.

"You kiss me, try to fix it. But you never listen." you swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather your restless thoughts. "Don't tell me you're scared, or that you're broken, or whatever excuse you think I'm going to forgive this time. Because I know you're hurting, Leon. I know you've been through hell. But I'm here," your voice cracked, embarrassment crawling up your neck, "I always have been."

"Just please...stop making me feel so fucking stupid for staying. Like I'm wasting my time loving someone who doesn't even want to be loved."

Leon didn't even know what to say in response to that. His mouth dried uncomfortably, paralyzed by the impact of your desperate words. Again, like always, you were right. He didn't have a single thing to defend himself, because he really was in the wrong, trapped in a mire of hopelessness. It was oozing its dirty self into his relationship, tainting the one good thing he had in his godforsaken life.

So, he could only whisper, "You're right." His arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in effectively. You didn't protest against his embrace, making the most of the warmth and comfort it spread through your frigid bones. "I am so, so sorry," he mumbled, his hand cradling the back of your head, holding you close to his chest.

"I need you, sweetheart, more than I've needed anyone. You're the light of my fucking life, I just...I don't know how to be the man you deserve." Leon pressed desperate, frantic kisses against your forehead, then to your cheeks, tasting your salty tears on his lips.

"But I'll try, for you. I swear to God, I'll try." The crack in his voice was unmistakable. It tore you to shreds.

Against your better judgment, against all the hurt and anger that simmered beneath the surface, you pulled back a bit, enough to see the forlorn, crestfallen look that etched itself into Leon's jaded features, then to notice your tears that had stained his t-shirt. You bit the corner of your lip, a feeble attempt at suppressing your sobs, you then leaned in, lips capturing his in a kiss that was neither soft nor forgiving.

It was desperate, messy, and filled with everything the two of you couldn't say. All the love, the pain, the hope you somehow hadn't given up on yet. His tongue slipped past the crack of your lips, hands roughly gripping onto your thighs and coaxing you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. Teeth clicked against one another, noses bumping into the other's cheek, foreheads pressed tightly. His stubble scratched your soft skin deliciously.

"You're all I have left," Leon murmured breathlessly between kisses, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions, the rawness of his confession hanging heavily in the charged air. His hands smoothed up your figure, finding purchase in your hair as he pulled you closer; he thought you might vanish if he let go, even for a moment.

You melted against him, like butter, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, trying to tether yourself to this moment—to him. Leon's lips tasted of something bittersweet—maybe cinnamon—the kiss holding a desperation that bordered on aching, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken apology and feeling into it.

A single tear rolled down Leon's flushed cheeks as you pulled away for air, forehead resting against his. His breath was warm against your lips, a sign he was real and right next to you. That this wasn't some dream, but reality.

Probably not the time, nor the place, but Leon was so fucking pretty when he cried.

You brought your hand up, the soft pad of your thumb stroking it away. He leaned into your gentle touch like a kicked puppy, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your thumb as it brushed over his bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, the words barely audible but so full of meaning it made your chest ache, "but I don't know how to let you go."

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ᗪEᔕTᖇOY ᗰE ♰

♰ Pairing: dom!energy vampire!yunho x sub!chubby!fem!human!reader

♰ Genre: smut/angst/vampire au/horror

♰ Summary: Life as a human pet to your vampire master means that feeding time is always a special occasion but you've been acting particularly bratty lately so your owner decides to make tonight's dinner one you won't soon forget.

♰ Word Count: 1.5k-ish

♰ Warnings: Yunho's your master so you call him that, he's also feral for you, pet names (my pet, princess, good girl, little human, etc), not so pet names (you get called a fuck toy and a whore. fun times), a sprinkle of degradation if you squint, he's literally draining you of your life force, bondage, strong language, dirty talk, body suspension, unprotected sex, creampie, a lil cum play, blink & you miss it breeding kink, reader's ultra wet, sub space, nipple play, tit sucking, edging, fingering, vaginal penetration w/ vibrator, major Yunie hand kink, rough/deep sex, he also kinda overdoes it on the feeding and thinks he killed you but girl you're fine.

♰ A/N: I'm a horror whore so honestly this is roughly 1.5k worth of vampire smut that exists for the sole reason that I wanna bang vampires and apparently I wanna bang Yunho too. Someone confiscate my laptop ASAP so I can stop being so unhinged. Thanks xoxo ♡

Your master’s favorite room in this sprawling gothic manor you’ve come to call home will always and forever be the dining room...

A dining room that only qualifies as one by way of being a place in which he consumes his food. Between these four walls, upholstered in dark scarlet velvet, you’ll find no table and chair set. No wholesome family photos adorning the walls. No plates or forks or spoons.

Though there may be the occasional knife depending on what your master’s in the mood for. But tonight it isn’t about the blood—something he draws from you on only the rarest of occasions. Tonight it’s about feasting on your energy, devouring the very essence of your soul, and the room is brimming with it.

Ornate light fixtures in each corner illuminate the darkness in an erotic red that seems to pulse around the center of the room where you dangle 4ft from the ground, suspended only by the intricately knotted rope your master’s decorated your naked body in. At your feet a tall figure looms, his presence dominant and imposing. He watches you intently, admiring the meal laid out before him.

You’ve pinned your hair up for him, making it perfect for tugging should you require any disciplinary measures. Your makeup is simple yet alluring, highlighting your features without overpowering them. The rope fashioned around your chest is a corset of sorts that binds your arms behind you, curving back around your breasts to lay them bare for him to see.

Your plush thighs are spread giving him a direct view of the vibrator humming away in your dripping core. The room is silent besides this and, of course, your mindless whimpering. You aren’t allowed to speak, you know better than to disobey this rule, but you can make all the noise you want as long as you control your volume. But that’s so hard isn’t it? When your master’s been edging you for this long—much longer than your ruined little brain can remember—it’s easy to lose control. 

“My pet isn’t forgetting her manners, is she?” Yunho asks, stepping between your legs. Hands gloved in black leather stroke the ropes extending from your ankles up to the ceiling, the vibration of your trembling body quaking through his own. You can see him better now, your handsomely dressed master feasting upon you with those shimmering sapphire pools he calls eyes. All you want in this realm is to be good for him. To be rewarded with his love, his praise, and his touch.

Reaching between your thighs, Yunho spreads the petal soft folds of your pussy, sliding the hood of your clit back to expose the sensitive bundle of nerves. He brushes it with his thumb and your body rushes with a heat that radiates onto him like the rays of the sun.

“Mmm, you feed your master so well” he hums, licking his lips, salivating, “Such a sensitive little cunt.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you choke your moans down deep in your throat, your stomach tightening at the stimulation. You raise your hips, desperate to truly feel his touch but the gloves won’t let you. That is the mortal torture of this night. 

All week you’ve been acting like a brat, disobeying his orders and throwing tantrums to get his attention. You understand how powerful Yunho is, how important his duties to the vampire council are, but he’s been far busier than usual lately and all those long nights home alone became unbearable.

Yunho can tell how much you’ve missed him by how tightly your pussy clings around the vibrator. “Look at her, so greedy. I really have neglected her. Forgive me, little one” he coos, pushing it into you until your eyes are watering and your head’s thrown back in ecstasy.

Yunho slips the vibrator out at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping at the tip. He groans in delight at the unique taste of the energy you give off as he rotates it in small circles.

“You love when your master punishes you, hmm? Like having this gorgeous pussy tortured until you can’t take it?” he grins, stretching you wide to watch your juices drip to the floor. “That is why you’ve been acting up, isn’t it?”

You respond with broken, honeyed moans and drawn out breaths. Yunho’s draining you, your essence flowing from you like a fountain that feels deceivingly good as it leaves your body. Yunho’s eyes travel up your figure, stopping every now and again to lust after the tender flesh peaking through the ropes. His gaze settles where your breasts bounce against your chest, the rope pushing them up in such a way that your stiffened nipples are begging for his attention.

Yunho leans in, applying delicate kitten licks to your nipple, and hears how frantically your heart beats in your chest. “No coming yet, little one” he hums, taking more of your pillowy breast into his mouth. The bud hardens more against the texture of his tongue and Yunho takes it between his teeth, pinching it just to watch you squirm.

He shoves the vibrator back into you, angling it against your sweet spot, “That’s it, mmph, shit, keep feeding me. Give it all to me.”

The room begins to darken, the minimal lighting doing nothing to keep you from drifting into the shadows. Your bindings seem to fall away and with it the limits of your mortal form. You’re left floating in a space too euphoric for words, completely at Yunho’s mercy.

Yunho raises his head, your spit drenched nipple suctioned between his lips, and finds himself spellbound by your beauty. You are a work of art unable to be replicated by any other woman, human or otherwise, and you’re his. Forever his. Just knowing his claim to you is eternal makes his hunger for you reach ravenous heights and he’s baring his fangs, tearing his gloves off to feel your bare body in his palms.

Tossing the vibrator aside, he frees his cock from the dress pants it was nearly tearing through to get to you. With one thrust he’s buried within your walls, rolling his hips to feel the delicious ridges of your pussy around him. Your body tenses, unintentionally causing you to pull away, but he won’t let you get away that easily. 

“You know the rules, pet. No running” he growls, grabbing your hips and slamming you back down onto him, “You’ll be a good little human whore and, ah, take my cock like the fuck toy that you are.” Keeping one hand at your waist, his other hand ventures around you activating every pleasure point.

Your body reacts with maddening excitement to the worship being poured into you by those large, marvelously veined hands. They're like magic, tiny sparks of electricity dancing along your skin at every brush of his fingers. Lacing his long fingers around the back of your neck, he licks the delectable tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Say my name" he whispers, fangs skimming your jawline, "And maybe I'll take mercy on you."

The next moan that escapes you is more fractured than the others as your orgasm tears you to pieces. You repeat his name over and over, “Yunho. Yunho. Yun…”

“No, no, that won't do. Louder. Scream it" he commands and you obey, screaming your throat raw with his name all over your tongue.

Yunho stills his movements, groaning as you ride him in midair, his cock glistening in your slick. You’re coming for what feels like an eternity when your lower belly swells full with his seed, warm and satisfying. When Yunho pulls back it’s overflowing, trickling from your core and down your immaculate ass. He takes two fingers, gathering his come and feeding it back into you, “You did well, my pet. I’m so proud of you.“

Gradually you come back from that otherworldly place, your awareness of your body returning little by little. Opening your eyes you realize that you aren’t strung up in the dining room anymore. Instead you’re submerged in water of some sort, a floral scent filling your nostrils. You wiggle your toes and they swish around in the water, bubbles dancing on the tips of them. Your vision balances out and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of your bathroom.

“Thank hell you’re up” Yunho cheers from behind you in the tub, wrapping you in the tightest hug. “I must’ve fed too much. I’m so sorry, princess. I could’ve killed you. I don’t know what I’d do if…” 

“Master, I’m fine, really.” you swear, lighting up at the sloppy kisses he plants on your cheek. “I may not be like you but I’m still strong.” 

Yunho rests a hand on your chest, his fingers making figure eights on your collarbone. “That you are. My strong, beautiful little human. I’m so sorry I neglected you,” he apologizes, hoping with all his heart that you believe him. “Your master loves you, you trust that don't you?”

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling safe and cared for in his embrace. “And my master is loved.” 

[buns-with-a-book]

blacklight siren

Inspired by @ticklemycucumber's post here. Another piece sitting in my drafts for who knows how long!

She could feel a hot gaze on her. 

Cassandra took a hard swig of the overpriced cocktail, sharp alcohol searing down her throat. The air in the club, this out of the way dive in the alleys of Gralea, was electric. Even more so with herself, another face in the crowd, unrecognizable to the masses, dark blonde hair damp from the mist in the air. A simple black tanktop, thin pants, worn boots (the idea of getting her toes stepped on by drunk dancers wasn’t so appealing for what she had planned), and a simple chain necklace with a key hanging from it was all she really wore for tonight. 

No one could guess she was the daughter of a nobleman, of one of Niflheim’s oldest houses, but that was neither here nor there. Not tonight. 

This was an act of late-blooming teenage rebellion against, well, everything in her life. While the booze was bitter, it was the liquid courage she needed to finally, finally slip into the realm of ‘I don’t give two fucks about what happens now, I wanna fuck something up.’ Sliding the glass back to the bartender, she slipped out of the seat to meet whoever had been staring at her. She scanned the room-

And there he was, draped in the blacklight, amber eyes shining like a cat’s in the dark. There was something about him, a siren-like air of mystery and vague familiarity, like she had seen him somewhere before. Dark wild hair, briefly illuminated by the lights, looked to be a maroon color. He definitely was muscular, if the shifting lights fluttering around the room that landed on his taut black shirt indicated anything about him. The booming music seemed muffled as their eyes met, as Cassandra drifted through the throng of dancers, oblivious to the world beyond the music and the lights. 

When they finally got together, the gap closed between them, she had to crane her head up to meet his eyes. He was even more handsome on close, and with that came familiarity once more. Such thoughts were chased away, as a warm hand, his hand, grazed her cheek. Instinctively, she leaned into his hand, the hunger for touch winning so effortlessly. 

Gods, don’t stop.

His hand slid down, ghosting her chin, down her neck, sliding down her spine until it reached the small of her back to pull her in. Oh, how warm he was, broad and strong in a way she didn’t know she needed until that liquid courage unlocked those deep parts of her she was forced to hide away. Sure, he was a stranger, probably delighted that a young most definitely naive woman just fell right into his arms to destroy her life, but that was a problem future her would deal with. She gazed into his eyes, molten gold meeting her own blue, before he pulled her into the darkest corner of the club. 

Her mouth opened, to protest, before he roughly spun her around. Hands landed on her waist, pulling them close, her ass to his groin.  Her arms reached up, wrapping around his thick neck. Her moan was cut off by rough lips against hers, his frame seeming to shadow her. She swore he tasted vaguely of alcohol himself, but fine wine instead of whatever overpriced cocktail she downed. She grinded back against him, smirking against this…sensation akin to a kiss. 

It was more like he was trying to devour her. And she wanted it, more than anything. His hum of delight seemed to reverberate through her body, to her very core. His warm hand slid under the waistband of her pants, two fingers finding and rubbing at her clit. She jolted at the touch, feeling his body tremble from amusement. He pulled back a little, enough for their eyes to meet once more. 

“Won’t you be a good girl for me?” He cooed, so soft but it felt so loud in her ears. It was as if he was salivating to devour her, body and soul, not even considering brooking a response from her (as if she had one). She could only try to close the gap again, but his hand on her waist kept her down, prompting a needy and desperate whine from her.

Fuck yes. Destroy me, ruin me for any future suitors my father has planned, I don’t fucking care-

His fingers slipped under her panties, delving into her wet cunt. She squirmed under his touch, the stranger dipping down to her sweat-slick neck. She felt his teeth bite into her skin, sucking hard, most certainly making a mark, tipsily hoping it was to claim her. She needed more, her grinding against his fingers, panting and whining in his wicked grasp. Her hand found itself in his hair and she gripped, turning to bury her face in his locks. The faint scent of leather, of musk, and a little bit of cinnamon, dammit, she was ensnared and was probably going to regret it in the morning- 

“Oh, oh fuck!” She gasped, arching her back. He laughed against her skin, a sinful sound she wanted to hear again.  

“That’s it.” He purred, peppering kisses against feverish skin. “Such a good girl for me.” The stranger’s voice was honey to her, his lips traveling back up her neck. She saw a glimpse of those beautiful amber eyes, shining from the flashing lights around them.  

“Now come.”

Something snapped. A moan devoured by his hunger and the pounding bass around them, legs trembling from the strength of that overwhelming tide of pleasure, and he just kept going, kept thrusting his fingers into her core, kept hitting that sweet sweet weakness within. Tears were welling up in the corner of her eyes, blurring the neon and blacklight together. When she finally surfaced from the pleasure, gasping for breath, she watched as the stranger licked slick fingers clean, and the obscenity of it made her legs tremble and her core ache. 

“Don’t leave me.” She breathed. The stranger grin was wolfish, delighted at the trembling lamb in his arms. 

“Of course, my little bird.” He glanced at the door. “Shall we take this to somewhere more…comfortable?”  “Please.”

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Thinking about Midnight Sun, as you do…

Edward really did get stuck with a teenager mentality huh. Even if he sounds like an old man.

—

Edward: HER BLOOD CALLS TO ME!!! But like *tucks hair behind ear* she’s beautiful??? I HATE HER.

*fucks off for two weeks*

—

Edward: Like I lowkey wanna devour Bella whole but if anyone else tries to mess with her then necks are getting snapped.

—

Edward: How can I get her attention without getting her attention?? I know! I’ll sit away from my family and stare at her from afar. And when she actually does approach, I’ll tell her to stay away from me.

*pats self on back*

—

Edward: You’re my everything Bella. Go absolutely destroy your father’s heart and soul while I go deal with this James freak. No it’s fine, I can read minds, I’ll be done in like a day.

—

Edward: let’s go to a dance bc that’s what the kids do nowadays right? Never mind you have a boot on, I find one stiletto super sexy and I’m gonna seduce you in the garden anyway so it’s fine.

—

Edward: so my brother tried to eat Bella, and despite my previous statement, I can’t snap his neck bc he’s family or whatever. So I guess I’m gonna just gaslight Bella into thinking I never loved her bc that’s the healthy way to break up. This is super important I do this in the most damaging way possible bc I love her so much.

—

Edward: So Bella is dead, so as my final act of love I’ll go get myself killed.

Alice: No one asked for that!

Edward: Fuck you, imma do it anyway.

—

Edward: so the woman I love found a friend to whom she holds a close bond while we were broken up but luckily this friend is a werewolf so I have a justifiable reason to absolutely despise him. Yeah Bella, it’s bc he’s a wolf and vampires hate wolves and he’s too dangerous?? Like I know I’m dangerous but like, not anymore? Not to you anyway. Because you’re special and after I thought you died I no longer find your blood super delicious.

—

Edward: sex????!! As a 109 year old virgin, I blush at the thought of sex!! A young lady such as yourself should be more chaste and— woman for the love of god my loins can only resist so long before they spontaneously combust and I managed to freeze them at their most potent and virile so god knows what’ll happen if I ravish you now!!

—

Edward: the only way I can have sex is by marrying her. It must be done. And the wolf’s heart can finally be broken too! Wins all around babeyyy.

—

Edward: sex sex sex sex- goddamn she is fragile as shit!

—

Edward: but then again, I have this perfectly acceptable headboard that I could destroy as I destroy dat pus-

—

Edward: sex sex sex- SHE’S PREGNANT?!? BUT HOW COULD I FORGET THAT MY SEMEN IS FROZEN IN ITS MOST VIRILE AND POTENT STATE AND IF MY BLOOD (venom??) CAN MOVE ABOUT IN MY VEINS TO CREATE AN ERECTION AND THEN EJACULATE THEN SURELY I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN I COULD MAKE A BABY but alas I forgot to wrap it up bc never before in the history of ever has separate species mated and produced offspring (I’m looking at you Ligers!!)

[corvuscorona]

IT'S TIME TO RANK TALES OF BERSERIA CHARACTERS BASED ON THEIR "BROKEN : WATCH OUT" RATIOS.

I have to document this or I'll die.

1st number indicates how broken the character is (when handled by an amateur who loves to fuck around but cannot remember more than 3 things at a time) on a scale of 1 (you have to play the game to win) to 5 (90% of the potential gameplay is unnecessary for winning. on chaos mode).

2nd number indicates how much you have to Watch Out when playing as the character, again from 1 (you'll be fine probably) to 5 (switch to velvet the second things start going south or Die).

ranked in order of total numerical score because I LOVE to jevil-do-anything. there is 1 tie; please consider it broken by "more manic gameplay" winning over "inherently more methodical".

ready GO!!!

"broken" is higher: character i switch to when i just want to get it over with.

"watch out" is higher: more fun on account of the risk but if the other number is too low i still don't feel like it most of the time.

scores match: simulates what i think it must be like to play fighting games.

there are gifs of mystic artes because even i didnt want to read 6 paragraphs in a row without landmarks.

6- LAPHICET: his break soul is defensive & i can't figure out how to do combos w/ him that actually make casting faster. 0:3. 1 star. do it yourself, babyboy; i cannot help you. you'll help me.

5- ROKUROU: youd think he would be more broken than this but the timing on his break soul counter-hit thingy is surprisingly fussy and it's hard to see when something's about to hit you when there are 6 suits of armor onscreen all flailing their empty limbs around at once. buttonmash city. soul waster supreme. easier to combo with but his focus must be low or something bc i get stunlocked the most as him by far. hard to play w/ finesse. 1:4 "don't get hit."

4- ELEANOR: swinging her spear like a baseball bat flinging a guy into the air and then leaping up into the air to smack the guy around while things continue happening underneath me is a lot of fun to let me keep having as often as i can use any of her dozen-hit-doing iron-stance-having artes to grab souls with and consequently her break gauge fills really fast too. would be higher on this list if i could remember which direction shes gonna step/slide/jump/fly like a bullet out of a gun when i hit any given button. the unpredictable nature of this keeps my on my toes too hard for me to ever really win with her on purpose. 3:3 & also why does she run so slow???

3- VELVET: ol' reliable. her break soul is aptly named because if the entire battle system hadnt been built around it like an SCP containment procedure this game would be unplayable. as long as you have 3 souls you can tank any hit you want while you rip an enemy's blood right out of its veins and if the tailor-made-for-that-exact-enemy attack she does at the end of the combo doesnt get you back a soul, your options are limitless - do a weak point combo or guard real good or do 2 switch blasts in a row or hit em with a mystic arte or failing all that just run in circles until one of your teammates dies and their souls fly out of their pockets. free for the taking. DEVOUR. i have only had to Watch Out as velvet like 5 times in 120 hours & two of them were because the enemy attack lasted for 500 years so when i came out of therion mode with 1hp it was still happening on top of me. 5:1.

2- EIZEN: now we are fucking getting somewhere. the second you knock an enemy down you get 2 free hits that do GOOD damage & hurl you several feet in the "behind the other guy" direction, and give you like most of a break gauge level, but First you have to Knock Them Down with a guy who gets stunned like he's punching HIMSELF 1 out of every dozen hits & has really cool attacks i wanna look at that have weirdly long windups. i tried playing as eizen to fight phoenix on chaos mode and it did NOT go well but on the other hand it went a LOT worse as every other character so man i just do not know anymore. special bonus points for having the most contentious "hard to do long combos : really cool tier-2 mystic arte" ratio, too. 3:5 i'm not kidding you really gotta watch out eizen dies A LOT

1- MAGILOU: as long as you can LOOK, A SHOOTING STAR!, you have a chance of surviving but the size of that chance vacillates wildly from moment to moment LET ALONE fight scenario to fight scenario. her combat is so simple in theory; spell absorber Just Works and spams free attacks for you that practically blot out the goddamn sun, her little meteor attack is nigh instant comes down exactly where you expect it to in front of her and stuns/grabs souls like there's no tomorrow. AND YET. i cant get used to like any of her other attacks for fear of getting hit while winding up and/or launching myself halfway across the battlefield directly into a giant bird's big stupid laser beam, doing combos to lower casting time on her artes is just as much of an issue as it is with laphicet, and in the not-so-rare circumstance that she cant stagger whatever she's hurling space rocks at she crumples like a paper bag. love watching her do her futile little gay little run away from danger in the world's biggest 2 hats, and then die. queen. 5:5 !!!

[imactivethisblogwilleat]

i am going to die, neat stop

not with that attitude i won't

ok fine, kill me father figure

can eat a pile of b e a n s

can eat a mile of m o s s

as the prophecy foretold

i either join the side harem

or within the side of vore

which one is better hmm

join vore which is very gay

should we tell the people

moss is good it's healthy

you will perperutate the

cycle of life don't eat plz

stuffs one thousand into mouth

will have to consume to survive

w h e r e a r e t h e o t h e r s

as much as i care for you stop

i care for you a lot so stop please

hey do you have weed, yes no

shut not here don't bring that plague

it is now here, who's the first person

to join and make my feelings wheelies

my hands, they never stop chocolate

i'm vibrating like a omg qha6 whay what

i know too much about you guys pats

throws soul at his soul it combines no—

i ams't mine own father kris'th yas't

howba doo shouts inaudibly screams oh

i literally typed his name i call upon you

and he literally just appeared afterwards

hebadOOba'WEO_WEEWOO he's saying

your name he was whispering your name

climbs onto hat climbs onto you climbs

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

you hot thot chocolate oof the memes

cant we y'know break rules just this once

maybe you might be the exception huh

everyone that i let into my home either

does weird shit, tries to get into my pants

or breaks my stuff, huh, cool, neat shrugs

release me i have stuffed bugs into bags

they will devour all except me yaye bugs

i've come to only one conclusion, butts

stop — TTAYEMYTNUASTST no— nO—

HOW DO YOU CHANGE NAMES IN SP—

send back into the ground, it refuses wha

why would you hope to dream about me

oh golly don't wanna make a ship do you

respawns AHH hahaha i trust no ond one

hey what up i am lonely yet free yeehaw

alrighty gamers, let's get this bread amen

[mattlvr]

missionary so we can moan in each others ears ★ i want him to rail me until i can’t breathe ★ his dick is so pretty i wanna make it my lock screen ★ i can’t take this anymore i gotta fuck him ★ want him to fuck the attitude out of me ★ i want his tongue down my throat ★ slut me out ★ the head i would give this man ★ he’s so cute i want to devour his soul ★ he’s so fucking fine for no reason ★ things he’d look good in: me ★ i need him to blow my back out ★ i’m trying to be his peace & his pornstar ★ he’s so sexy i wanna give him a kid ★ he’s in my head so much i might as well give him some ★ i want his handprints on my ass ★ i’ve never wanted to suck someone off so bad in my life ★ his eyes are so pretty ★ i’m so down bad for him it’s not even funny anymore ★ he’s so fine im orgasming every time i see him ★ he’s a red flag, but red’s my favorite color ★ he’s so pretty i just wanna bite him.

[spams4losers]

went out with my situationship yesterday to go for a drive and get some pizza so of course i brought my satchel of hug barrels to contribute. anyway. picture it: parked at the end of his driveway fooling around because if he gets caught sneaking into my place again i could get kicked out, and we don't want to have sex in his house with his underage sisters. the man kisses like he just wants to explore me at all costs, but not in such a manner that i feel like i'm being devoured (ew) but devoured (no words will describe how desperately i crave you, your soul and mine must be destined). and i'm a squirter.

we're in the backseat and he's fingering me and all that jazz, and as we're in the middle of penetrative sex he tells me he wants me to cum all over the seats. and i'm like no you don't have a towel i don't wanna make a mess etc., and he makes it all hot and tells me he doesn't care, so i full send it right.

i apologized after for making a huge mess and he said it was fine but he isn't texting back now and i said some SHIT that's gonna be really embarrassing if he never addresses it.

[642stories]

Story #53, In the Silence of the Night 2/2

This is The X-Files fanfiction. Read it on AO3

She has no doubts that Mulder knows how to touch her mind.

She suspects that he keeps under wraps a few tricks on how to touch her soul.

But how is it possible that he’s never touched her body before, yet he can play it like a fine musical instrument? With unerring precision, he recognizes all the right keys to touch and strings to pull. Her body, mind, and soul sing the most sonorous chords all at once. Only in his arms.

If he can make her vibrate all the way down to her toes with just one kiss, what's going to happen when they take it to the bedroom? Oh, boy.

Scully straddles his lap and in a matter of seconds, their clothes end up in heaps on the floor of her living room.

Fingertips, calloused and tender, map the soft curves and hard muscles; eyes, hazel, and baby-blue, trail over the cream and bronze canvases of skin; lips deliciously full, devour hungrily over each other.

In his hands, he holds a microcosm of the ocean of pleasure that comes to wash her in tides.

With tender fingers, he caresses the undersides of her breasts - thumbs sliding over the hard nipples - then moves them down to rest on that sweet spot where her waist goes to her hips, and eventually encircles her back. Their bodies touch head-to-toe and the sweet fragrance of her skin fills him to the brim with each inhale.

“God, you are so beautiful,” Mulder whispers, tightening his arms around her and kissing her soft, fruit-scented hair.

“Should we take it to the bedroom? You know, there’s a bed in this apartment.”

In reply, he dips his nose into her neck and nips gently on the sensitive skin beneath her ear, hands still roaming along the pale expanse of her back. As they settle on the luscious cheeks of her lace-covered bottom, he gives them a firm squeeze and lifts his head off her shoulder to look into her eyes.

“I want to take you to the ocean, Scully.”

Scully smiles, her eyes crinkling with amusement. That’s clearly not what she expected to hear.

“Ocean?”

“Yes. To spend a day on the beach. To see the milky skin of your arms and shoulders become crowded with peach-colored freckles, and your russet hair lighten in the sun.”

“You are such a romantic, Mulder.” She chuckles, rubbing his nose affectionately in an Eskimo kiss.

“Should we call Skinner and tell him we are going on holiday together?”

“Mulder, at this point you can ask me to call Skinner and tell him I believe in aliens, and I’ll blithely agree. You have me that high on dopamine.”

One of her hands drifts down his sternum and brushes an impressive bulge through the rough denim of his pants. Mulder whimpers.

“Can we please not bring Skinner into our bed?” Scully murmurs into his ear, and the tone of her voice alone makes him squeal.

“Deal.  And we are on the sofa, not in bed.”

“Oh, I stand corrected. Can we please go to bed and not talk about Skinner?”

Mulder slides his hands up her back, over her shoulder blades and neck, until they reach her face and cup her cheeks. His stare suddenly turns serious.

“I know I’m at the risk of sounding a wee bit cynical here, but I don’t wanna be just your easy lay, Scully. This celebration of ours… is it just a one-time thing, or do you think you can… we can… feelings might be involved here?”

There’s a pause of a length of a heartbeat that feels like it lasts hours. Time stretches. That's Mulder’s cue to lay out his cards and just go along with what’s coming next.

“Because I love you, Scully.”

He would expect her to frown. To jump off his lap and put on her clothes back. To ask him to leave and forget everything that’s happened tonight.

He hopes for a kiss instead. 

He’s too afraid to believe she could say it back. Yet, she wouldn’t be his Scully if she didn’t keep him guessing.

“Mulder, I think, we both can agree, by and large, that feelings have been involved here from the very beginning.” At that, she frames his face in return, their foreheads touching.

“There’s some pretty hard evidence here.” She looks down briefly to illustrate the point, and Mulder lets out a nervous chuckle as he follows her gaze.

“That’s quite an astute observation.” He manages to say before her lips land on his in the most sensual kiss he’s ever experienced.

“I see you, Mulder. Always.” She says tethering him with her touch and her words.

“You won’t run for the hills in the morning?”

“I won’t run for the hills in the morning.”

“OK. That quelled my fears a little bit.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“I’m totally on board with this course of action, Scully, but maybe we should dial it down a bit.” She knits her brows, clearly confused.

“I mean, you are still recovering and…” The rest of the sentence dies, as she chooses that moment to grind against him, and Mulder loses any coherent train of thought.

“You know that you can’t really leave me hanging here, Mulder. Bear in mind the potential repercussions.”

“Oh, Scully, you know how to tug at my heartstrings.”

“I’m kind of hoping to tug at something else here.”

There's some more kissing and smiling. The night is young and promising.

Much much later, in the darkness of her bedroom, they lie under the covers, their bodies satiated and limbs intertwined, and Mulder, still slightly lightheaded, asks:

“Scully, how much would you give me on a scale of ten?”

Somewhere around his armpit, she sighs tiredly, mumbling half-sleepily: “You serious?”

Her eyes are still closed and he nods quite vigorously just to let her know how damn serious he is.

“Well, I think it’s fair to say… In aggregate, I’d score you six points, Mulder.”

“Six? You kidding?”

“You can’t deny a woman four years of sex and emerge unscathed. You’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Oh, I will, Scully. Believe me, I will. Do you think we can start right now?

“Right after I get my beauty sleep. Good night, Mulder.”

“G’night, Scully. Love you.”

She doesn’t say anything in turn, and Mulder thinks that she has fallen asleep and tightens his arms around her. It's more than enough for now, he's happy as he is. The night is silent around them and he closes his eyes, ready for the sleep to claim him.

“I love you too,” breaks through the haze of his dream right before he falls asleep with a content smile on his lips. 

[supernaturalgirl20]

Threesome

Pairings: Frankie Morales x reader x Santiago

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, oral (female receiving), cursing.

Your body shuddered as Frankie ran his rough hands up along your legs and thighs until they brushed softly against your wet cunt. You gasped, back arching as he separated your wet folds with his fingers, running his tongue along your slit. His eyes - now blown wide and almost black from lust - are staring up at you, watching as you fall apart for him.

A groan slips from Santi’s lips and you can feel him hard behind you as he grinds his hips into your ass. He wraps an arm around you while the other moves to grab at your breast, pinching your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Oh fuck,” you gasp as you come hard on Frankie’s tongue.

Santi’s lips kiss along your neck, Frankie’s along your thigh and over your stomach. Their hands roam the expanse of your skin and the sensation alone has that heat building in the pit of your stomach again. Fuck this was a fever dream. It had to be, but it was one you didn’t want to wake from.

“You ready mi amor?” Frankie whispers as he kisses you softly on the lips. “Ye…yes…I’m ready.”

Frankie’s gaze shifts from you to Santi and he nods at his friend. “You know the deal. Only I can fuck her pussy.”

“Fine by me, amigo. Once I can get a taste of her after?” Frankie nods his head as he lifts you up, Santi shifting behind you. You're sitting in Frankie’s lap, his hard cock resting against your stomach as his mouth devours you. “Fish, you gotta share man.”

A growl emanates from deep within his chest as he holds you tight, flipping you over so he’s on his back with you straddling him. His big hands rest on your thighs as you line him up and sink onto him. “Oh fuck….Frankie..” You begin to rock your hips over him and he groans loudly, lewdly , pushing his head back into the pillows. Santi moves behind you, rubbing his cock along your puckered hole and you stiffen.

Frankie squeezes your breast in his big hand drawing your attention down to him. “Just breathe, baby. Relax and let him in.”

You take a breath, and then another. Slowly, so very slowly, Santi eases himself inside you, your muscles relaxing with each breath. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, the feeling of both men inside you completely overwhelming. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

It’s too much. You feel so full and they’re so big. They give you a minute. A breather before they completely wreck you. Santi begins to move. Fucking you in slow, deep thrusts, never quite pulling out all the way before thrusting back in.

Beneath you, Frankie doesn’t move. He doesn’t have too because with the motion of Santi fucking you from behind, Frankie’s cock is hitting that sweet spot. “Mierda! So fucking tight. You look so pretty like this. Taking us both like we were made for you,” Santi grunts out.

“She’s perfect, aren’t you baby? My pretty little girl.” Frankie grunts out with a shudders breath. His hands grip your hips tighter and he moves ever so slightly to take a nipple into his mouth. Biting it between his teeth.

“Frankie…oh god, fuck…don’t stop.”

“Don’t intend to, pretty girl. Wanna see you fall apart and then I’m gonna let Santi have a taste. Let him see why I love eating your pussy. You want that?” You nod your head frantically, desperate for release.

Santi snakes an arm around your hips to stroke your clit, over and over until you can feel all three of you cascading to that inevitable end. He bites into your shoulder and that feeling inside, that heat building in the pit of your stomach intensifies as your vision begins to blur.

“That’s it mi amor. Let go. I can feel you. You're so fucking close.” Frankie isn’t far behind you and he starts thrusting his hips upward, giving you that extra friction. You come with a cry and it feels like someone has ripped your soul in half and then put it back together.

Santi shudders between your thighs, filling you with hot spurts and then he’s gone. You don’t get time to mourn the loss of him as Frankie grips your hips tight and flips you onto your back. He pounds into you, driving you into the bed. “Mierda! Take it baby. Take it all. Wanna…wanna fill you up. Wanna see you round with my baby…fuck…so fucking tight….oh god.” Frankie comes hard spilling inside you before slumping on top of you.

In that moment, the only sound that fills the room is your ragged breathing. Then Santi is pushing Frankie off you and positioning himself between your spread thighs. Without warning he dives right in, licking and sucking, drinking down your combined juices until your seeing stars.

“Fuck Fish, no wonder you love it so much. Fucking Devine. Sweetest things I ever tasted.” Santi rasps as he pulls away, dropping down beside you in the bed. Frankie is behind you, turning you onto your side and sliding his arm across your hip. His teeth graze your ear, “rest now mi amor. We got you.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @hungrhay

Frankie Morales: @paulalikestuff @vanemando15 @hb8301 @djarinslove @browneyes-issac @agingerindenial @afootnoteinyourhappiness @almaeunice @readsalot73 @marielovesstuff @a3trogirl @loonymagizoologist @amb11 @absolutegeek

[cuddle-2-electric-boogaloo]

Apotheosis

Many people believe that the life of a god is one of luxury, of being worshipped and generally having it easy. Truthfully, it isn't.

Especially when locked in combat with a horrific abomination that wants to devour you to assimillate your power.

CW: eldritch concepts, such as disturbing descriptions, permanent, unwilling vore

Eru wasn't the most powerful of gods by a long shot. In fact, she often thought of herself more being a powerful guardian spirit more than a god. But the people of Vrilens referred to her as such, and so she accepted it.

But now she was being pushed to her limits while fighting this... thing high above Vrilens. But it still wasn't enough. It didn't help that she could find no weakness on it; there were no blind spots due to it having eyes everywhere, and it seemed every inch of its horrific body was armed in some way or another, preventing direct combat.

"Given up?" it... spoke, with a clashing harmony of voices coming from every mouth on its body. The sound made Eru wince.

"Not a chance" she spat back, preparing herself to launch another attack.

"Oh, why don't you just quit, you know you don't stand a chance against me on your own" it retorted with what could be interpreted as a grin.

She didn't say anything to that. Because she knew it was right. She was pulling out all of the stops, while that thing was acting like if it could sweat, it definitely wouldn't have done by now. She needed help. But she knew exactly where to get it.

She sent out a psychic distress call to her friend Oso, who was another god who protected a city not too far from Vrilens. He was Eru's best bet.

"Trying to call you're little friend won't help you. Haven't you wondered why you haven't heard from him in months?"

What? How did it know I was calling him here? she thought to herself before asking "What do you mean?"

The abomination erupted into a cacophony of laughter, the sound of which gave Eru a sudden headache, which died down quickly, but still lingered.

With every other mouth still howling with laughter, it spoke again using the mouth that seemed to be on what could be called a face, "He's been here the whole time! Do you wanna see him?"

Before she had a chance to answer, it opened its main mouth wide, and held out a humanoid figure wrapped in its tentacles, while they were struggling with all their might to break free. And once her and the figure locked eyes, they both instantly recognised each other.

"ERU!!" Oso screamed at the top of his lungs, "PLEASE, GET-"

He barely had the chance to start his plea before the abomination clamped its mouth shut, and swallowed him back down. Every other mouth on its body still laughing maniacally.

Eru didn't know what to feel. She felt confused, terrified, distraught, anger, fury, hatred. Hatred of the monster that would dare eat her oldest and closest friend. She stopped thinking rationally. She lost every self-preservation instinct she still had. She only saw red. She wanted this thing to suffer.

She collected all her remaining strength to fire herself at beyond terminal velocity towards it, holding her blade directly in front of her. She aimed squarely at its largest eye that she could see. Directly where it wanted her to go.

Just before she impacted its eye, it slammed her with an appendage that resembled a claw, sending her crashing down to the ground, settling right in the centre of the city.

Once she collected herself, she looked up and saw the smug "face" of the abomination grinning down at her, all of its eyes focusing their soul-piercing gaze directly on her.

"I told you," it said in its conglomeration of voices, "you didn't stand a chance against me."

She tilted her head downwards, both due to her pain, her distain for it and the fact that looking directly at it from so close gave her a painful headache. "Alright. Fine. You win. On one condition."

"Oh?" it asked, lifting her head up by her jaw with its claw - or tooth, it was impossible to tell with it. "And what would that be then?"

She stared it directly in its eye "You don't harm a single person in Vrilens."

It flashed a grin at her, before saying with only that mouth "Fine by me, I never had any qualms with them anyway."

With that, it opened its mouth, revealing its numerous rows of teeth, as well as a ring of them that surrounded what seemed to be its throat, which lead into the abyssal void within it. That ring of teeth then folded outward to allow the same tentacles that held Oso to emerge and grab Eru. Once they wrapped around her, she got a horrible sensation. It wasn't wet, but it wasn't dry either. It was just... wrong. And its not as if she was unfamiliar with being eaten. Quite the opposite, in fact. Whenever she and Oso met, more often than not one would swallow the other in a show of affection. This was not anywhere close to feeling like that experience.

Once safely in its mouth, its jaws snapped shut, leaving her with only a faint maroon glow. Not that it helped much. Most of its body was pitch black, and that included its innards, apparently. The only thing she could really see were its teeth, which were still open and awaiting her to be pulled past them by the tentacles constricting her whole body.

She quickly passed these teeth, which quickly shut back into place behind her, before she was unceremoniously shoved by the tentacles into its gullet, or what could be called that. She was effortlessly pulled along by it, until she was pushed out into an opening, where she was deposited ungraciously. The glow was brighter in here, allowing her to see much clearer.

"Eru?"

She knew that voice.

Oso rushed over and practically pounced on her, locking them both into a massive hug.

Tears were streaming down his face, as he repeated over and over: "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so so sorry please I didn't mean for you to..."

She just kept hugging him and reassuring him: "Shh, shh, it's not your fault, none of this is your fault."

Once he had stopped apologising to her, she looked around where they both were, to find they weren't alone. Several other gods were in here as well, all of them being about the same strength as her.

"Welcome to the belly of the beast" one of them said, in a sarcastic yet empathetic tone.

She soon realised just how powerless she felt. Not just in a sense of inescapablitiy, but in that she felt like all of her godly abilities had been stripped away. And judging by the defeated expressions of the others in there, they felt the same way.

"So that's its game" she thought to herself, "It eats gods and steals their power for itself."

She sat down by one of its "stomach" walls, still with Oso sobbing in her arms, and surrendered herself to their new eternity. Trapped within the eldrich abomination which, from that day forth, would be known as the Devourer of Gods.

Oh boy some more Vore Lore™️!

Introducing the Devourer of Gods (who might be given a name rather than just the title but for now just go with it) who I am going to have a lot of fun drawing when I get around to it (I won't be having a lot of fun drawing it). This abomination is gonna be making quite a few appearances throughout the Vore Lore™️.

Also decided to have a much less wholesome story this time. Normally I prefer doing the wholesome stuff but I like this sort of stuff a lot too.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

What about Lenny accidentally interrupting a date of Midges? Or vice versa?

He comes to her show and he's got a girl with him, and she's gorgeous. Blonde and curvy and just...really. Who was Midge kidding that she could ever be what Lenny wanted?

But that's okay. She has a set to do, and even though it's unspeakably cruel of him to show up and sit there with a date after their very blue room, and then yelling at her on stage at Carnegie Hall, and then cutting off all contact with her afterwards...

She has a job to do.

"God, exes are tough, right?" she asks the audience. "You're over them, you're not over them, they're assholes, they're...the love of your life, and they can do no wrong. I've had that kind of relationship with my ex-husband. At the same time you wanna jump in the sack with him, you also want to strangle him with said sack and then hang the body in the closet."

It's dark, but it gets a laugh.

"And I've had boyfriends since my divorce, you know? Perfectly nice guys, but there's always that one," she says, looking out, ignoring Lenny's gaze. "That one guy that you know you should not touch. You know that as much fun as he is, as much good chemistry that you have? He will fuck your shit up. And he can't help it, that's just who he is. A...A fuck boy. Right? Just a fuck boy, is that a thing? It should be. It should be a thing, and women deal with them all the time! They're so romantic and soulful, and then you find out they are so full of shit, they've clogged up your toilet."

That gets a laugh too.

"They're everywhere," Midge says, holding microphone close to sound spooky. "Fuck boys, they are everywhere, around every corner. Watch out, ladies, they are just lying in wait. Ready to take you on deeply romantic dates and then run away the second things get even remotely real. They can't handle real. They don't want real. They want the fantasy. They want to believe that they can take some sad, ordinary girl for the ride of her life, and then let them off like at Coney Island. 'Thanks for stopping by! Trashcan is over there if you have to puke that'll be 35 cents!"

She chances a look at Lenny, and he...

Is not laughing.

Other people are though.

"Are there fuck girls? Are there these...unspeakably pretty girls who just go around and take unsuspecting men by the hand and lead them on these wild adventures, only to leave them in Central Park at six am with no shoes and no cab fare?"

She sighs and shrugs.

"And you don't regret it," she says. "Right? Fuck boy. Fuck girl. You don't regret going on the ride, the ride is fun! It's sexy! It's dreamy! But you're so rarely prepared for it to end, that you find yourself sitting on your couch devouring a pint of vanilla bean ice cream, waiting to see if maybe they'll call. And then when they don't, you try to call them, and you wind up feeling stupid, especially when they don't call you back, And they never call back, do they? They've moved on. They will always move one."

No one is laughing anymore, and Midge stops, realizing just how off the rails this set has gone.

She rights the ship eventually, talking about eating more and more ice cream until you die of a heart attack and are reincarnated as a cow, only to find that there is an intensely attractive fuck boy cow in your field and the cycle starts allll over again.

She wraps up and heads backstage, trying to breathe.

"The fuck was that?" Susie asks.

"Lenny," Midge responds. "Is out there. And he has a date and I...apparently have feelings about it."

"Should I go kick his ass?" Susie asks. "I can go kick his ass, the nerve of that asshole! He fucks you, he yells at you and then he doesn't speak to you for months, only to show up with somebody else? What the fuck!"

Midge takes another breath and composes herself. "It's fine. It's all fine. I'm gonna go get a drink."

She heads for the bar, and orders a martini, and there he is, walking towards her, and she can't deal with it.

She just can't do this right now, and she just-

Runs.

Out of the club, and onto the sidewalk and fuck it's still cold in March and fuck she left her coat and purse inside and fuck, is he following her?

"Midge! Come on!"

She keeps trotting along in her heels, trying to outpace him and it does not work at all.

"Midge it's freezing," Lenny employs, yanking his suit jacket off and trying to put it over her shoulders.

"No," Midge snaps, turning to him and letting it fall to the ground. "No suit jacket. No 'it's freezing.' Only answers. Answers or nothing."

He stares at her for a long moment in shock and sadness, the wind blowing at the sleeves of his shirt. He leans down and picks up his jacket, brushing it off. He doesn't look at her as he mutters out "I thought you'd be better off. I thought you'd move on. I thought-"

"You thought you'd ignore my calls and never speak to me again and then show up at one of my gigs with an intensely gorgeous date?"

"It was a terrible plan," he admits.

"Oh, my god," Midge shakes her head, turning to walk away.

He follows again. "It was a terrible plan! I thought you'd be over it! I thought- I don't know!"

"You're with her? Like really with her?" Midge asks, turning to him. "She's the girlfriend?"

"No! I picked her up the other night, she seemed fun, I-"

Midge starts walking again.

"I'm a total shithead!" he yells, causing a few people to stop before walking again. "And I've been trying to get clean, and mostly failing, and trying to work, and mostly getting arrested and I'm a mess and you're better than that and you don't need it!"

Midge whirls around. "You don't get to decide what I need!"

Lenny looks at a loss as Midge storms back up to him.

"Me. My life. I decide, Lenny," she says, feeling tears sting her eyes. "Not you. Not my father. Not Joel. Me. And I missed you, and I called you, and I waited for you to maybe call me, and you..."

"Acted...acted like a...a fuck boy?" Lenny supplies sheepishly.

Midge nods. "Yes you did."

"I'm sorry, Midge," he says gently. "You were right about me. Things get a little real and I...I just disappear because I don't know how...how to..."

She nods and swallows down more tears, wiping her eyes. "It was a terrible set."

"It was a good set. It was honest, and real."

"You didn't laugh."

"Of course I didn't laugh! I felt too fucking guilty to laugh, because those things you said were about me, and they're true, and I'm ashamed of them!"

Midge takes a breath and tries to compose herself. "Apology accepted. Now you don't have to worry about me anymore." She starts walking back towards the club.

He rushes after her. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"You got me back on track, and you were obviously done, so we're done," Midge tells him.

"Midge-"

"I thought maybe..." she turns to him as she gets back to the club, more tears starting to fill her eyes. "I thought maybe you loved me. And I don't think you do, so that one is on me for getting the wrong idea. You should go back to your date."

"I don't want to go back to my date, talking to her is like watching paint dry," Lenny says, annoyed.

"Well then you sure know how to pick 'em," Midge tells him.

"I actually do, normally," he tells her. "But normally she isn't trying to push me away because she doesn't know what the fuck to do with someone who actually means it when they apologize and tries to make things right."

"This is not about me!"

"Sure as shit is."

"What do you want me to say?!" Midge cries. "What do you want me to do?! You've already admitted you don't know how to be real, and that it scares the bejesus out of you!"

"Well, maybe it's good to be scared sometimes!" Lenny yells back without thinking.

Midge doesn't respond to that.

"And what I want you to do is let me go in and get your coat and bag, so that we can maybe go find somewhere that serves coffee, and we can actually talk about all of this, instead of yelling at each other in the middle of the fucking Village," he tells her. "And then maybe, when we've talked all we can talk about all of this, kiss me goodnight if you so desire. I would like that."

She stares at him, with her heart in her eyes. She knows she shouldn't say yes.

"I've really missed you," Lenny says quietly. "And I've been an idiot. And I wanna stop being an idiot."

Midge takes a breath. It's hard to say no to that. "My coat and bag are backstage."

He nods, and hands her his suit jacket again, and this time, she slips it over her shoulders as she watches him bound back inside.

A few moments later, he stumbles out of the club with her things, looking a little winded.

"What happened?" she asks, confused.

"My date slapped me, and then Susie punched me in the dick," he complains, trading jackets with her, sliding his on and then his trench coat as she slips into her own coat, laughing.

"She punches hard for someone so small," he marvels.

"I've heard," Midge nods. "Coffee?"

Lenny nods back. "Coffee."

[thursdaydaughter]

Met him last night

pairing: yeonjun x reader (no gender specific)

genre: reader is kinda lonely, demon!yj, suggestive, inspired by met him last night by Demi Lovato

warnings: alcohol (wine), choking, reader is kinda in trance (?)

word count: 700+

a/n: english is not my first language

reblog if you like <3

~

The bar was covered in red lights and the music was so loud that you thought that your head was going to explode.

To be honest, the bartender started to feel pity for you. It was the tenth time in the month that you were there and didn’t get anyone to talk to or to leave home with.

“The usual?” He asked with a little bit of sadness.

“The usual, huh? Yeah sure.” You sighed and gave him a weak smile. “You never stay so late, why would you this time?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I don’t know.” He smiled. “I don’t get why you only come to order wine, I mean this is a bar, you could have any other drink you want but you only ask for wine”

While you were thinking how to answer that question, the place started to feel extremely cold forcing you to hug yourself.

“It's cold.” You said.

“Cold? I think it’s pretty hot.” He laughed showing you his dimples. “I’m going for another bottle, okay?”

You smiled in response and when he left, you let your head drop on the table bar. You knew it was embarrassing and kinda stupid keep going to that place and not being successful in your mission.

What will that boy think of you? Certainly, he felt sorry for you; seeing you with the hope of someone approaching you and starting a conversation, getting some drinks and then deciding to spend the night together.

“You look sad, want some company?”

“Company? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be working?” You asked while regaining your composure.

You looked at the boy standing in front of you: he was tall, had dark brown eyes, beautiful plumpy lips, white shirt, dark hair as his suit.

In other words, he was handsome as hell.

“A-a-are you talking to me?” You asked nervously.

“I don’t see anyone else here.” He joked. “Red or white?”

“Red… but how?”

He turned around to get behind the table bar and just like magic, he pulled a bottle of wine and served it in two glasses.

“You work here?” You asked while drinking a little bit of it.

“Do I look like I work here?” You laughed and shaked your head. “There’s your answer.”

He was staring at you deeply as he drank from his glass and for a moment you felt like he was hypnotizing you with his dark eyes.

“Why is someone as attractive as you so lonely on a night like this?” He touched your face with his fingers and you could feel the cold of his silver rings on your skin.

You didn’t answer but you started to feel so strange, so nervous, so impatient… you wanted to leave this place with him and get him in your bed, it felt like you were starving.

You didn’t even realize that he was pouring more wine in your glass.

“It’s fine. I don’t have the intention of getting you drunk or something.”

Even if that was his intention, you didn’t care at all. As long as he stayed by your side, you were fine with everything he said or did.

“What’s your name?” Suddenly you asked as he sat by your side.

“You can call me Yeonjun.” He put his hand on your thigh.

“Don’t you wanna know mine?” He gently squeezed your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

“I don’t find that necessary, or do you?” He put his hand away and took a sip of his drink.

“Not at all.” You said. “I’m waiting for the bartender, he is taking too long.”

“I’m going to the bathroom, okay?” He asked without taking his sight off you.

You quickly nodded and watched him walk through the people on his way to the bathroom. When he got to the big black door, he turned around and with his finger called you.

His right hand choked your neck roughly, but not enough to hurt you, while his left hand pulled your hair softly.

His lips were devouring you, it seemed like he was looking something from you, you felt like he was trying to get your soul through a kiss.

“You are mine. Only mine.” You heard his voice in your head. “Understand?”

You moaned a little “yes” against his mouth making him choke you a little bit stronger and pulling your hair roughly.

“Yes what?” He asked walking away from you.

“I’m only yours.” You answered, staring at his fully dark eyes.

“That’s what I like.” He smirked. “Let’s go home, angel”

[ozarkthedog]

PROVISO | 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬 & 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫

summary:  Andy is willing to take the case but only on one condition. He gets to spend the night with Chris’s girl... you.

warnings: SMUT. 18+ only. CEO!Chris Evans. MeanDaddy!Andy. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Rough Consensual Sex. Daddy Kink. Degradation. Slight Asphyxiation. Anal play. Dirty Talk. Slight Prostitution. Cuckold of sorts. Slight Public Sex. Acrophobia. Female Ejaculation. No Aftercare. Dubcon (if you squint).

word count: 2,989

author’s note: I would sell my soul if I could make this fic come to life.

📖 Master List

This work has Adult Content. If you click “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content.

“So, you gonna sign the contract or not?” Andy questioned, looking out over the twinkling landscape of Boston. In the reflection, he sees the younger, sharply dressed CEO still browsing the thick binding of papers.

The conference room is large, minimally decorated with mostly black and white paintings. A rich mahogany table is set in the middle with the clean-shaven CEO of Evans Corp. sitting at the head with you, his submissive and other half, standing to his right.

The setting sun casts an eerie glow over the Defense Lawyer as he waits until he hears the scratching of pen on paper to turn around.

Chris signs the document and sets the pen down before casting you a glance.

“Go on, Sweetheart. Show Mr. Barber a good time.”

Chris tips his head towards the navy suited stranger who’s standing by the massive floor to ceiling windows. You send your partner a warm smile, wanting to please him in every way.

Heels click on the shiny flooring as you make your way around the table ready to blow this man’s mind when a gruff voice stops you in your tracks.

“Ah ah.” Andy raises his hand forcing you to a quick stop as you balance on your toes precariously.

“On your hands and knees.” He commands, pointing to his black wing tipped shoes. “I wanna watch you crawl.”

His tone hits you square in the chest. Your breathing faltered; you hadn’t expected him to be so dominating. An exciting flutter was forming deep in your belly as you slowly sunk to your knees.

The short, satin dress you wore gave everything away as he spied down the top of your dress and palmed his cock through his trousers. 

Your eyes traveled the length of the cunning man. His finely trimmed beard framed a sly grin as he watched you make your way over to him. You swing your hips from side to side, exaggerating the movement loving how his eyes lit up and burned into yours.

You sat on your heels when you reached his feet, peering up at him modestly while you licked your lips lewdly. His navy tie drifted away from his body as he leaned down and brushed the apple of your cheek with his knuckles.

“Quite a pretty little thing you have here, Evans.” Andy said, looking over your features studiously as if he was trying to make a mental note.

Chris’s steely tone doesn’t waver, full of confidence. “I know.”

“I’m going to enjoy taking her apart.” Andy says casually, staring at you like a piece of meat he couldn’t wait to devour.

“She’s all yours.” Chris’s voice echoed off the walls as he stood from his chair and walked over to the Liquor cart to fix a drink. 

“Her safe word is ‘Saturn’. No kissing. She’s forbidden to touch herself until you say otherwise.” He turns on the spot and clears his throat forcing Andy to tear his eyes from you.

“No anal. No leaving marks that’ll bleed.” He takes a sip of his scotch, gritting his teeth at the burn. “That skin is mine to scar.”

Your body tingled with remembrance of the first night Chris made you bleed when he spanked you with a flogger. Things had been different after that night.

He raised his glass to Andy with a wicked grin, “Other than that, do whatever you’d like to her.”

The atmosphere shifted then although you were always the one in charge, Andy’s lust was suffocating.

Suddenly, there was a hand at the base of your hairline dragging you closer to the immense windows before depositing you with your back pressed against the glass.

His large body consumed your sight as he stood over you and unbuckled his pants. Your tongue poked out the corner of your lips excitedly. 

“You gonna be a good girl and choke on Daddy’s cock, Kitten?” Andy questioned as he pulled his straining appendage from his pants. 

Thank God you were already on your knees because hearing him call himself Daddy had your core dripping. You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than to taste his cock. “Yes, Daddy.”

His generous length bobbed teasingly until he traced your lips with the reddened, leaky crown. He paints them with the musky pre cum that dribbled from his girthy flesh, toying with you until your core was flushing heavily with slick. 

Soft, whimpers fell from your lips as he pulled his thickness away. “Open your mouth and stick out that tongue.” His voice is gritty with lust.

You maintained eye contact as you parted your lips and let your tongue hang, opening your mouth wide.

His brow pinched in awe as he ever so slowly filled your mouth and glided over your tongue until he hit the back of your throat. You groan and then sputter around his length when he withdraws his hips only to shove his cock back in with a punch.  

He swears low under his breath as he spreads your lips around his throbbing girth making your pussy clench desperately. You grab his burly thighs when he cages your head with his hands and holds you flush against the glass and begins to fuck your throat.

Spit slips from the corners of your mouth as he bucks his hard flesh over your tongue, growling out his pleasure and pressing his fingertips into your scalp. “You’ve got a mouth made for fucking, Kitten.”

Your head was dizzy from lack of air and the adrenaline of being used where anyone could see. His thrusts are steady and overwhelming as he takes your mouth repeatedly, barely allowing you any oxygen and yet, you loved every minute of it.

The power this man wielded and the controlling aura he produced makes your mind go dumb. A hand slips from his thighs and dives under your dress rubbing quickly at your tiny nub, frantic to quell the tremendous ache.

Andy rips his length from your lips and doles a sharp slap to your left cheek sending your head to the side. Your skin burns with arousal and shame knowing he didn’t give permission. You hear Chris sigh in the background disappointedly, your belly twisting heavy with regret.

Andy’s hand is rough under your chin, tilting your head to meet his fiery stare. “This is my cunt for the night, not yours.”

You hiccup a soft, trembling apology, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Andy’s anger fades once you call him “Daddy”. He lifts you up and presses your body against the glass. His solid frame compresses your ribs and makes your bones grind painfully.

“No need to be sorry, Honey.” He kisses the ridge of your brow making your heart race as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders, “I’ll just gonna take it out on this delicious body of yours.”

He slides the top of your dress down to your belly and hungrily fondles your naked breasts. Your back arches and you mewl as his mouth claims your sensitive globes. His beard tickles and his tongue drags over your skin before he’s nipping at your pebbled peaks.

With hands weaved around your body, palming handfuls of your ass as he grinds his leaky cock against your satin clothed mound. “Gonna see if every part of you tastes as sweet as these tits.”

You didn’t have time to consider his words as he spun you around and forced your hands onto the window with a searing touch. You slammed your eyes shut seeing the expansive cityscape. The extreme height has your belly flipping with nerves. You move your body away from the glass until Andy pushes you against it making you shout anxiously.

“If those hands move, I won’t let you cum.” He growls in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your cheek bone.

You gasp at his threat but it turns into a ragged sigh when you feel his beard scratching the back of your thighs. He pushes your dress up and over your hips and lets out a deep, dark chuckle, “No panties… why am I not surprised.”

His tongue is warm on your skin as it drags up your delicate flesh, over the junction where your thighs meet your bottom, leaving little bite marks in its wake.

Your forehead falls against the enormous pane, forgetting about your fear of heights when he spreads your cheeks and spits obscenely on your tight hole. His tongue dives between your cheeks, licking your puckered rim with talent and finesse.

“Arch your back. Give Daddy that ass.” He pushes on your lower back forcing you to bend harder into the window and expose yourself to him.

His tongue goes rigid and prods the tight muscle, testing your opening with determined drives. Your heart pounds as his fingers tickle your inner thighs, tracing playful patterns up to your soaked center.

“What a fuckin’ mess you’re making, Kitten.” Andy scolds, softly. 

His digits slide through your puffy outer lips and circle your throbbing clit languidly. Your jaw goes slack at the attention and you push back onto his tongue, greedy for more stimulation. 

“Let everyone in Boston know how much of a slut you are. Ride Daddy’s face.” His muffled command urges you on as he pushes 2 fingers inside your sopping core. They curl and massage your svelte walls eliciting heated mewls and high-pitched gasps as you scratch the window from the blissful onslaught.

Your body locks tight and you frantically cry out, begging for permission to cum when he finds your G-Spot and hones in. 

“Daddy, please! May I come?!”  

“You gonna come with Daddy’s tongue up your ass?” His skilled fingers curl their way around the bumpy tissue driving your orgasm head on.

“Yes! Please, please!”

He smacks your ass with his free hand, “Come on, Honey. Make a mess. Come all over my fingers.” He commands with a grunt. 

Your core grips his fingers hard and your body snaps as you shatter into a million pieces and soak him in your squirt. Your breath fogs the glass as you scream out your rapture and ride out your pleasure on his tongue.

The second your eyes open Andy is on you.

He twists your body around with urgency, his face wet and riddled with ravenous fury as he hitches your leg around his waist and slots himself between your thighs. His grip is harsh on your hips, controlling your every movement.

“Wait!” You chime, hesitantly, unsure if you were ready to take his cock after such an intense orgasm.

Tender, pillow kisses pepper their way up your neck until he bites the shell of your ear making you sing. “It’s ok if you cry, Honey. Daddy gets off on your tears.”

He punches his hips forward, impaling you on his veiny girth. You cry out in sweet agony at the profound stretch. His cock is heavy in your core, widening your channel with his thickness and sliding past your clit with every shove.

“Fuck!” His chest rumbles with a growl when he feels your tight walls flutter trying to adjust to his massive size.

Your bones crash into the window pane with every powerful thrust, making your belly knot embarrassingly fast. His pulsing crown painfully kisses the deepest part of you, nudging your cervix with agonizing torture.

“I’m stretchin’ out this little pussy, huh? Bet you can feel me in your belly.”

Immoral gasps are torn from your lips at his words as he keeps a steady rhythm with his hips.

Your head lolls to one side, eyes falling on Chris as he sips his scotch leisurely. Your heart leaps into your throat, you were so far gone you forgot he was in the room.

Tears sting your eyes, hating that you could even forget the man who you could never live without.

Andy follows your tearful gaze and gets an idea.

“Let’s bring the party to the CEO, shall we?” Andy suggests with a severe grip to your neck. He slides from your drenched slit and tugs you to the long conference table before bending you over in front of your Dom.

 Chris smiles wickedly at your wretched features. Your hair is messy, lips puffy and covered in dried saliva. He couldn’t be more pleased.

“This cunt is something else, Evans. God Damn.” Andy says, before smacking your ass and driving back into your blazing heat.

Slick drips down your inner thighs as Andy grunts from the pressure of the new position, thrusting past your tight opening with resolve.

Your elbows barely keep you upright, sliding forward with every punishing shove inching you closer to Chris. 

He leans forward and thumbs your tear-stained cheeks, “You’re taking his cock so well, Sweetheart.”

You whine under Chris’s touch. He was a difficult man to live with but you always knew you were loved.

“Tell me how it feels.”

You swallowed hard; Chris had never been in the room when he lent you out in the past. It was always to someone he trusted and had known for years. But now, having him watch you fuck a stranger made your pussy swell like you never imagined.

Chris hated repeating himself, so when you don't answer he lands a quick pop to your left check, adding to Andy’s first graze and then grips your jaw tight.

“Tell me how it feels to have his cock deep inside that cunt.”

Your eyes close momentarily, trying to figure out the right words as Andy plows in and out, taking your breath away. 

“Huge- he’s so big!” You moan wantonly, grasping onto Chris’s wrist when Andy nudges your cervix cruelly causing you to sob. “He’s splitting me open, Sir.”

Andy grunts above you at the way your cervix swirls around his cock head. “Fuck! This pussy wants to suck me dry.”

Chris coos your bittersweet moans until Andy drags you up against his body, caging his suited arm around your neck and restricts your airway with his bicep.

Andy’s hand leaves your waist, grabs a hold of your pubic hair and pulls hard. “Are you gonna let Daddy come inside you? Dirty you up like the whore you are?”

He tears an anguished cry from your lips that slowly turns into a lewd moan as he keeps driving past your folds.

You sniffle and lick your swollen lips, “Yes.”

“Good Girl.” Andy praises, smirking into your neck before smacking your abused mound and shoving you over the table once more.

His fingers dig into your waist roughly, bumping your hips into the table harshly when he feels himself nearing the edge. You’ll be covered in little crescents moons for the rest of the night.

You meet Chris’s eyes when you feel Andy begin to swell. You’d never been this turned on before and Chris could tell by the way your eyes lit up and the way your brows pinched together.

“Daddy wants you to come with him, Kitten.” Andy snaked his hand under your body finding your clit with ease. He swirled the little button, smacking it lightly when he felt your channel quiver.

“That’s it. Come all over Daddy’s cock.” Andy demands with a grunt quickening his pace.

Chris leans back in his chair and swigs the remaining liquor before reaching a hand down to adjust his hard on.

The sight made your body spasm. Eyes roll back hard into your skull and your soul lifts towards the sky as Andy shouts his own release, coming deep inside your womb.

You collapse exhaustively on the table with a content sigh. Of all the times Chris has lent your body out either as payment or to sweeten the deal, you’ve never been fucked like that. 

Andy clears his throat and your eyes flick to Chris’s who sent you a soft, encouraging look.

You slide off the table onto your knees. Your dress is tangled around your waist as Andy leers over your body waiting for you to clean his come stained cock.

His fingers tenderly rub your scalp as you lick your mixed juices off his deflating girth. “That was mind blowing, Kitten.”

His words make you purr as you clean the remaining spend from his balls.

“Well, we upheld our end of the deal.” Chris chimes in, standing up and unbuttoning his suit coat to drape over your half naked form.

“I look forward to winning the case for you.” Andy says, extending a hand.

Chris smiles, “I’ll have my secretary reach out to set up a conference for tomorrow night.”

“It was wonderful meeting you, Honey.” Andy says, leaning down to kiss your hand. “I can’t wait to see you again real soon.”

Your brow pinches with confusion. “What do you mean, Mr. Barber?”

“What do you mean by that?” Chris cuts in.

Andy snickers with a twisted smile, “Don’t tell me you didn’t read the fine print, Evans.” He shakes his head and slides the signed agreement down the table. “Page 26. Section 14.”

Chris thumbs through the document quickly while Andy crouches down and gives you a menacing look. “I’m going to love being buried inside that sweet cunt for the next few months, Kitten.”

“Chr- Chris, what’s he talking about?” Your voice wavered as you looked to your other half for comfort.

Chris was seething. His eyes were deadly as he watched Andy stand to full height, “What the fuck?! We agreed on one night!”

“You always gotta read the fine print.” Andy scolds, watching his clients face twist with rage. “You never know who could be trying to slip something by you.”

Andy sent you a wink and buttoned his dark blazer before turning on his heel and walking out the door.

 Page 26. Section 14.

Mr. Barber will have unlimited access to Ms. Y/L/N for the duration of the case against Mr. Evans. Ms. Y/L/N will keep Mr. Barber company whenever and for however long he deems fit.

[galionne-speeding]

I remember reading an official thing about the Deadly Six that mentioned that Zor’s dark magic is something so awful that the other five wouldn’t dare touch it. With that in mind, let me tell you about some headcannons I’ve had about that:

Zor started studying dark magic at an early age. He was always the outcast, and combine that with an unstable home life, a Zeti who doesn’t care for their or other’s personal safety, and said Zeti accidentally finding a big book talking about forbidden magic and bam! You have a Zeti interested in the dark arts!

For a while, he was feared for his power, and everyone stayed away from him. He was spoken in hush times, and became even more of an out cast than he was before. Which suited him just fine! (It didn’t, but he was so done with everything that he didn’t care much anymore)

When the deadly six (more like the deadly 4-5 at this point) showed up around town, they had no idea the small purple Zeti they kept seeing was studying the dark arts. All they knew was that Zor was an excellent spy and was very crafty, so of course they considered having him join the team.

of course, when they found out that Zor was practicing dark magic, they were extremely cautious about letting him join the team. At one point they considered leaving him all together. Obviously they didn’t, mostly because Zomom became really good freinds with him, so of course he wanted Zor to stay.

They agreed on letting him stay, and the rest was history. Eventually, the group even became comfortable with his dark magic, so long as he didn’t do any of the heavy stuff. Zor agreed, mainly because the darker stuff was incredibly dangerous to use, and now he had a reason to care about his safety

The reason why Zor is so easy to beat In Lost World is because they’re still trying to figure out how to use the lighter stuff in a productive way.

He still practices intermediate dark magic from time to time, and to his credit he keeps the horrors semi-well contained, apart from a few mishaps every now and again.

he know a lot about the creatures of the dark, to the point that they’re on a first name bases. If a creature needs an offering of food to appease, Zor usually knows what they will like, down to whether or not to use the white or brown sugar.

the only creatures that the Deadly Six really like (and officially allow) are the Eye-bats. They’re just so helpful and sweet, and they don’t want to devour their souls so that’s definitely a plus

and those were some of my headcannons!

Aw yeah! Zor's powers being forbidden is mentionned on his wiki page ; I believe it's from one of the game booklets? Probably the Japanese one.

I love thinking about little Zor finding this massive tome and dragging it somewhere to read. And then practicing his new spells and slowly becoming a little menace...

I'm glad the rest of the group allowed him to join despite being scared of him...

The eye-bats are like little helpers! They're friendly and they just wanna hang around!

I've been reworking my backstory headcanons for the Six and I really need to post them. My Zor grew up in a doom's day cult so there's that-