#how dare you make me feel such disgusting things as ‘emotions’

[thothreposts]

Well why don’t you just shoot me in the heart then why don’t you?

Please…

[meadowfics]

your lost & found fic had an emotional impact on me omg. istg fav fic on this app ily for writing it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

anyways hi sorry about that LMAO it had to be said!! could you pretty please write myung-gi x reader headcanons in a rs with him? thank you so so so much!

myunggi / MG COIN / player 333 as your boyfriend headcannons:

myunggi x f!reader

authors note: thank you so much anon you're so kind <3

at first, you resented myunggi for getting you involved in his world of crypto scams and failed investments.

you never wanted to be a part of that mess, but you got dragged in, and now, just like him, you're drowning in debt.

for a long time, you blamed him, convinced that he was just another greedy scammer who didn’t care who he hurt.

then, you realized that myunggi never meant for any of this to happen.

he was trying to make something of himself, trying to build a future, and everything spiraled out of control before he could stop it.

myunggi is hated by many, and he knows it.

you see the way people look at him, the disgust in their eyes when they recognize his face from his old bitcoin youtube channel.

when he's with you, it’s different. with you, he softens.

he shields you from the world, from the consequences of his past, even though you’re already tangled up in them.

he treats you like you’re the most important person in his life, maybe because you are.

no one else stuck around, no one else believed in him.

you did, even when you hated him.

myunggi? he would do anything to keep you.

he’s fiercely protective of you, sometimes to a suffocating degree. if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to step in, his voice low and dangerous, daring them to say something.

if anyone ever brings up his past in front of you, trying to use it as a weapon, he shuts it down immediately.

he refuses to let anyone taint you with his mistakes.

myunggi can be manipulative, though.

he’s good with words, knows exactly how to twist things just enough to make you see things his way.

when you get upset about something, he has a way of turning it around, making you question if you were ever right to be mad in the first place.

it’s not malicious, at least not entirely.

sometimes, he just doesn’t want you to leave.

he can’t handle the thought of losing you like he lost everything else.

he’s loyal, though. painfully, desperately loyal.

even in the worst moments, when you’re arguing, when you feel like you can’t take another second of this life with him, he refuses to let go.

he reminds you, again and again, that he’s not going anywhere.

you’re the only thing keeping him together.

he shows love in quiet, subtle ways.

he always makes sure you eat, even when he doesn’t.

he always walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

he holds your hand under tables when he feels anxious, squeezing it like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

he’s a mess, and so are you, but somehow, you make it work.

masterlist

[minswriting]

ADDICTED - Spencer Reid x Reader

About: Spencer compares sex with you like being addicted to Dilaudid.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, talks of addiction, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f), etc. If you don’t like, don’t interact!!

Word Count: 580

Addiction is a wild concept. At first, it’s euphoric. Each time the needle hit his vein with the beautiful substance that was Dilaudid, the endorphins in his brain would skyrocket. Or so he felt. Addictive drugs create positive emotional states, allowing us to escape the negative emotional states. But as time goes on, a tolerance is built and the need for more, and more, and more becomes strong to feel something. Though Spencer is no longer on Dilaudid, he thinks about it every so often. You can never quite get rid of the cravings.

Spencer tried hard to ensure that he never got addicted to another substance ever again. The idea of allowing something to control his life again made him disgusted with himself. He only drank alcohol socially, he stayed away from any and all narcotics, and he never once dared to touch a cigarette or vape. However, the one thing he had not thought about was you. The day he slept with you for the first time was like the first time he ever had Dilaudid and god, he was addicted to you.

The blood pumping through his veins every time you are around, the automatic dopamine rush he gets when you’re next to him, he craved you, needed you. Spencer knew the signs of addiction. He experienced them before and now he’s experiencing them again. The only difference? He likes being addicted to you. He did not like being addicted to Dilaudid. That and the fact that he could never gain a tolerance to you. Every time you’re together is like the first time he’s ever seen you.

The feeling of your cunt on his cock always sent him into overdrive. You were always so wet and so tight. It always took every ounce of his being to not explode inside of you the moment he entered you. You were the embodiment of the perfect drug. With your beauty and the sluttiness of your whines and moans, you never failed to make Spencer want more. He is not satisfied until you’re completely satisfied. And god, do you taste like absolute heaven.

Spencer adored burying his face into your cunt, running his tongue along your pussy. Your juices coat his lips and nose while he sucks on your clit or buries his tongue in your hole. And the way you grip his hair and clench your thighs around his face, forcing him to stay between them. He would die a happy man if he died from suffocating in your pussy.

The best times to fuck you? When he comes home from a long case, you’re on the bed, dressed in some beautiful lingerie outfit, waiting oh-so-patiently like the good girl you are. “Tell me how you want it,” is always the first thing you say to him. And without a doubt, Spencer will always drop to his knees to eat you out first. And after you’ve cum once, he’ll do it again. And again. And again. And again. Until your legs are quivering and shaking because he just cannot get enough of you. Only then does he fuck you into oblivion with no other care in the world.

Addiction is a bitch. Anyone and everyone that suffers from it can tell you that. But you? You were the drug that Spencer needed until his very last dying breath. Because although sex with you is pretty spectacular and addictive, he’s also completely and utterly enamored by you.

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

part two

a/n i swear everytime im about to play love and deepspace, the app needs another update. my phone storage can't keep up T0T anyways, i'm not that far in but xavier is my fave. he lowkey reminds me of silver haha. rafayel is a close second tho

includes: all of octavinelle, scarabia + pomefiore

tw mentions of eating disorder

want more? check out part one!

Octavinelle <3

⋆ Perhaps the last dorm that you want to know about your skills. But alas, your heart is vast, so even shady seamen deserves some delicious home cooked meals/treats!

⋆ How about making some extra cash? Is what Azul says after taking a bit. He does mean it. Not only would Monstro Lounge gain some more popularity after news of the Ramshackle Perfect’s home made meals/treats were being served, but he gets to spend time with you without giving his feelings away? A win-win if you asked him. As we all know, Azul does suffer from an eating disorder, as much as he tries to deny it, but somehow your cooking/baking doesn’t upset him at all. If anything, he gets so lost in the flavors that he doesn’t realize that his stomach is full and plate empty. Should he be concerned? Disgusted with himself? Lots of negative emotions begin to swell up, but when he glances at you, fully expecting the worst, he’s met with your proud smile. Happiness practically radiating off your being. And suddenly, Azul doesn’t mind the feeling of a full stomach as long as you look at him like that again.

⋆ Jade finds himself coming to you more often to ask for tips on how to cook mushrooms in different ways. Heck, he even encourages you to come out mushroom hunting with him. He’s fascinated by the way you work, seeing you mix different spices and ingredients together inspires him to do the same. He enjoys getting a glimpse at a third world, your world. It reminds him that the universe is truely a big, fascinating place. He is touched that your first thought was to bring him food, don’t worry he’ll repay the favor.

⋆ Your food is the only thing to get Floyd out of his moods! Once he smells the delicious scent of your meals/sweets, he instantly goes back to being silly and goofy! He will pester the living daylights out of you to make his favorite foods. You will know no peace! Floyd always makes his distaste clear. He’s an honest guy, what can he say? So it’s a big achievement that your food gets the Floyd pass. He will glare at anyone that dares to come near his food. This is his food, not theirs! Floyd’s a good cook himself, so like Jade, if he’s feeling particularly chummy, you might be gifted with his own unique concoction.

Scarabia <3

⋆ Scarabia is known to have the best food in the school! So it was a little jarring when you decided to give them some of your homemade food. But you really have nothing to worry about when it comes to these too.

⋆ You thought you were going to go blind with how bright Kalim's smile was. It truly could rival the sun. Because of the trust between you and Kalim, he devours it within seconds. Practically buzzing in excitement as the flavors touch his tongue. He’s not joking when he says that it’s as good as Jamil’s food. He wants to throw a party where you and Jamil have a cook off! But also just to show off your amazing cooking. You’re going to have to politely tell him that might be too much for you. Or that you only cook for special people! (subtle flirting hehe) And well Kalim is Kalim so it’s like a 50/50 chance that it won’t fly over his head. But in the case that it doesn’t, Kalim gets all warm and flustered. You know how some people get cuteness aggression and just want to squeeze said cuteness, well that’s Kalim. Instantly you're in his arms while he exclaims how much he loves you!

⋆ Jamil gave you the weirdest look, thinking that you wanted something from him. But alas! You did it out of the goodness of your heart. After getting over his initial suspicion, Jamil is incredibly thankful! I get a feeling that between everything that Jamil has to handle, he tends to eat very little most days. Just enough to get him to bedtime. So when you popped out of thin air with food, but not just any food his favorite, Jamil is touched. Though just because he’s touched, that doesn’t mean he won’t critique it! Internally of course, unless you ask. I would like to say that this would lead to cooking dates, but Jamil gives me the impression that he doesn’t like others in the kitchen while he works. Though he’s willing to try it out for you! Omg, if you make him food from the Scalding Sands, he just might tear up (lol, probably not but that’s a funny thought) but he will be incredibly touched!

Pomefiore <3

⋆ A tricky dorm to cook/bake for. A life or death situation! You must satisfy the Queen’s tastes or else you’ll face everlasting sleep! OoooOOoooooOOOoooo

⋆ Your greatest foe, the Queen herself! Does your food satisfy the Queen’s strict diet? ………partially. Listen, Vil holds himself to high regards and keeps a stern eye on his calories and where those calories come from. And while yes, you are going the right path, you also took some side quests on the way. In other words, you were like 74% to getting Vil’s approval. But fear not! For Vil is more than willing to take you under his wing! Though, Vil’s not a chef himself, so he’ll guide you in the ways of his diets. As long as you keep those in mind, Vil finds himself thoroughly enjoying anything you make him. He enjoys foods that are light on the stomach with plenty of nourishment. Vil will oftentimes find himself thinking about your food. His stomach growling in hunger. He appreciates it whenever you show up with homemade snacks. Vil will oftentimes submerge himself in his work, whether that be new roles, schoolwork or guiding his dorm mates, and forget to eat. So knowing that you're always thinking of him and coming to check up on him makes him feel all mushy and gooey inside. Goodness, the effects you have on him.

⋆ C’est délicieux! Anything and everything you give Rook is eaten with fervor. Truly enjoying and savoring every bite! For how could he let anything go to waste? You put your heart and soul into it, it would be wrong not to enjoy it with his own heart and soul. His appetite is never quenched when it comes to your food. He consumes your food with such earnestness that it's hard not to get all flustered. The compliments are never ending when it comes to him. Rook could (and has) write poetry off the delicious taste of your food. Sweet, yet a little off putting. Will jump at any occasion to speak about your food, and by extension you. Eveytime he sees you with a bag or box, Rook is skipping towards you with a little tune to each step.

⋆ Nothing could beat his Meemaw’s apple pie, but Epel supposes that yours come to a close second. Your food is the only thing Vil will turn a blind eye to, which Epel takes as an opportunity to slyly (not really) suggest new recipes for you to try. Honestly, Epel really likes your food! He gets all flustered whenever you pop with food for him. At first he was a little insulted that you made him food, thinking you were insulting his masculinity or something by babying him. But after your very honest words (and a reprimanding from Vil and Leona for making you sad), Epel understands that it was just you trying to show him that you cared for him. I can see Epel going to Jack and asking ‘Is someone giving you food manly?’ and Jack, who happened to overhear Leona telling Ruggie, casually responds with, ‘My mom always makes my dad food, so yeah…” And Epel’s all like, ‘Well damn, if Jack looks like that then his dad must be super macho.’ or something like that. Needless to say, Epel has never hit someone so hard before over food. (rip grim and ace)

[godnectar]

Yan cheater is crazy

・✶ ｡ﾟ𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ;

cw: cheating, stalking, attempted gaslighting, jealousy, some violence, sabotage, guilt tripping, etc. ( inbox link )

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who's a master of deception. he will act shocked and hurt if you dare suspect him of cheating, putting on a convincing display of innocence in front of you and whoever who was the fucker you call friend placing such horrendous and disgusting but unfortunately true thoughts inside your pretty little head.

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who, even if he doesn't really feel too guilty about his actions, quickly starts to see red the moment a goodbye text from you arrives on his phone. a few hours later, it's his knuckles, the ones splattering crimson against your bff's face, unhappy and frustrated with how easy was for them to undo the blindfold of your eyes and finally see how much of an unfaithful asshole your man was.

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who would continue monitoring his darling's online presence even after your breakup, tracking your activities on social media and messaging apps to gather information about your emotional state and any potential love interests, jaw clenching furiously every time he finds out you've posted a new picture or story out with your companions.

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who, if you ever start dating someone else, would definitely try his best to sabotage this recently formed relationship, employing nasty tactics like sending suspicious texts and pics about your new lover from a burning account to create doubt and insecurity in his sweetheart's mind. we could try and say that, if he can't have you, no one will– but that would still be dumb for him, as he knows you'll always end up coming back seeking his sweet, warm, and deceptive embrace.

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who would also take his time to arrange situations where he can coincidentally bump into you, making it seem like it's fate the one bringing you back together as soulmates and not his dirty play. of course, he would double down on his previous apologies, promising that he has changed and is willing to do anything to make things between you two right.

𖣠 YANDERE CHEATER! who, if he notices at any moment the doubts appearing in your mind, will end up using his last but hopefully useful card, and question about whether you have ever truly loved him, suggesting that you're responsible for the fact that his heart has searched for someone else's affection when your touch started turning cold.

"baby... why do you cry? you're the one who made all of this happen– the least you could do is try and love me rightly."

© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.

[marvelfilth]

My girls (18+)

Pairing: Amber Freeman x f!reader x Tara Carpenter

Warnings: smut, threesome, fingering, oral, strap-on sex, spitting, public sex (but no one sees)

Summary: You fall in love with your best friends, and decide it's better to slowly pull away. You know you've made the right decision when they start dating... Or did you?

Masterlist

Loud music blares from speakers as you try to make your way to the living room, bumping into sweaty, drunken bodies and muttering quiet apologies that fall on deaf ears. You already curse yourself for agreeing to go to this party, Wes' puppy eyes being your undoing as always.

Someone drops their beer and you duck away just in time to avoid getting your feet splashed. You groan, looking around for a familiar face. Wes promised Mindy would be here, but you can't see either of them, so you opt for the couch in the corner, unoccupied and thankfully not covered in puke or any other disgusting substances.

You still don't get why Amber insists on having these parties, especially when Tara is not a huge fan of them. Amber always does whatever her girlfriend wants, you're surprised the shorter girl still hasn't put her foot down on this.

"Having a good time?" You almost jump in your seat when Tara appears out of nowhere and sits on the armrest, leaning down so you could hear her.

"Just waiting for Wes and Mindy." You smile, looking around nervously.

Amber is notorious for her jealousy streak, rumors of broken hands and dislocated shoulders circulate the school whenever someone as much as looks at Tara the wrong way. So yeah, no matter how much you like her, both of them really, you still want to keep your hands intact.

"Oh." Tara looks away, disappointed, before looking back at you with a frown. "What about me? You're not happy to see me?"

You swallow, looking down at your lap. You, Tara and Amber used to be close, closer than you are with Mindy and Wes, but when you realized the depth of your feelings for them you started pulling away. It wasn't as obvious at first. You still spent time with them and the rest of your friends, but with time you started to bail whenever the two of them were present, unknowingly hurting the pair. Amber asked Tara out around that time and you knew you did the right thing, no matter how much it hurt.

"Of course I'm happy to see you, Tara," you whisper, but she catches your words, eyes lighting up with emotion you couldn't place.

"Yeah?" She smiles. "You've avoided us like plague these past few months. Couldn't be too sure, you know?"

You wince, and apology already on your tongue, but she beats you to it. "Dance with me?"

"Amber won't mind?" You ask, your eyes darting around the dark room, searching for a certain brunette.

"Don't worry about it," she replies, tugging you up, "I'm sure she'll be happy once she sees us dancing together."

You swallow, not daring to move your hands from where she's put them around her waist, and look around again. "Why is that?"

Another pair of arms circles your waist from behind and you suddenly find yourself sandwiched between two of the most beautiful women you've ever laid your eyes on.

Amber presses herself against you and moves your hair to one side, nestling her face on the revealed space between your neck and shoulder, her breath warming your skin. "You're a pretty little thing, Y/n, but you ask too many questions," she whispers against the shell of your ear and chuckles when you shudder, before her hands sneak under the hem of your short skirt to settle on your hips as you dance.

You close your eyes and will yourself to wake up. There's no way you're not dreaming right now.

"Is this okay?" Tara cups your face, resting her forehead against yours.

You nod and bite on your lip, skin flushed and on fire.

"Use your words, pretty thing," Amber says, lips brushing against the sensitive spot on your neck. Tara moves her hands lower until they settle just below your breasts and tugs on the fabric of your shirt, almost making your breasts spill out right then. She is quick to place her palms on top of them, squeezing gently, making your arch in their hold.

"Words, baby," Amber asks again and you can tell she's getting impatient, but you can't remember what she wanted you to say, your brain is too foggy.

"What?" You gasp.

"Is this okay?" Tara asks, more forcefully this time, hands on your breasts, fingers itching to slide under the fabric.

"Yes, yes, please," you moan, nodding into her neck. You try to keep it together, keep moving to the beat even though your knees might give in at any moment.

"Amber," Tara whines, sneaking her hands under the hem of your shirt to settle them over your bra, "let's take her upstairs."

"Not yet, babe, let's have some fun here first," she says, her deft fingers wandering up your thigh, hitching up your skirt in the process. "You don't mind, do you?" She asks, squeezing your inner thigh.

You try to subtly pry away, embarrassment painting your cheeks red as you look around to see if anyone's paying attention. The music is loud enough to mask any sound, and the bright flashing lights make it impossible to see anything that's not right under your nose. Once you're sure no one is paying attention, you relax a little and shake your head no at Amber's expectant look. She smirks and leans down to bite down softly on the juncture of your neck before trailing wet kisses over the exposed skin, tips of her fingers inching closer to your panties with each lap of her tongue.

You try not to whimper at the feeling, but when Tara swiftly pushes your bra up to cup your breasts and squeeze them, you arch into the touch, your quiet moan disappearing between her lips as she crushes into you with a deep kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"Feels good?" Amber breathes against your ear, dipping a finger in your drenched underwear. She hums, sliding a single digit down your folds, collecting your wetness, and all you can do is moan into Tara's waiting mouth, granting her tongue easy access.

She rolls your nipples between her fingers, tugging and squeezing, as Amber's finger slides over your clit. You pull away from Tara, head falling back to rest on Amber's shoulder as she pushes two fingers inside your pussy. The shorter girl chuckles into your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

"You think you'll come like this?" She asks. "Right here, in front of everyone?"

"For you," you gasp, "for you I will."

Tara moans, her pretty brown eyes open wide as takes you in. "Amber," she huffs impatiently, and this time her girlfriend listens. You feel her pull away, her fingers leaving your heat before she forces them between Tara's lips, the smaller girl sucking on them eagerly. You bite back a moan at the arousing sight, your legs shaking with need to have those long fingers back inside you.

They guide you upstairs quickly, expertly avoiding the drunken mess of young adults and pushing you inside Amber's bedroom, the door locking behind you with a quiet click. You lean back against it, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to wrap your mind about the fact that it's actually happening.

"Are you okay?" Tara whispers, cradling your face between her soft palms. "If it's too much we'll stop. I can give you a ride back home if you want." You open your eyes, breath hitching from the proximity of the smaller girl. She's just a breath away, her eyes wide and earnest.

"I'm good." Your voice is hoarse, like you haven't spoken in hours. "I want this."

Amber presses into your side, her arms around your waist, pulling you close, her lips wrapping around your earlobe with a gentle tug. "You have no idea how long we've wanted this," she husks, trailing kisses down your neck. Tara guides your face, pulling you in a languid kiss as Amber slowly tugs off your skirt along with your underwear, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

You end up naked on Amber's bed, her thumb drawing tight circles on your clit. Tara is on your other side, playing with your nipples, her mouth hot on your neck, her lips leaving bruises on the tender skin. She inches lower, her breath burning, before sucking on the nub. Her slick tongue is all over your breasts, teeth gently tugging, nibbling on the heated skin.

Amber pulls you into a kiss, her fingers plunge inside your clenching hole. You moan into her mouth, nails digging into her back. Tara whimpers, throwing a leg over your hips, her core flush against your thigh. She humps messily, smearing arousal over your skin, her reddened lip pulled between her teeth.

"Ah! A-Amber!" You cry out when her fingers hit your sweet spot, making your vision blur. "Please, please, Amber."

"Tell me what you need," she husks, biting on your shoulder. Your breasts brush, and you cling tighter, pulling her flush against you. "I n- ah… I need more."

She hums against your skin and adds another finger, fucking you into the mattress. Her fingers spread you wide, making your toes curl. She leans close, her breath hot on your ear. "Come for us."

Your hips buck as you come with a loud moan, but there's nowhere for them to go with Amber almost on top of you and Tara still fucking herself on your thigh - that particular image only makes you come harder.

"You did good, baby," Amber murmurs as she slowly withdraws, wiping her fingers on your inner thigh.

You whine at the loss, trying to grab her as she pulls away. She steps off the bed to rummage in her dresser. You look away, focusing on the smaller girl. Her brows are pinched, her eyes tightly closed. You bite on your lower lip, grasping her hip and halting her movements. You change positions, settling on top of her, her eyes wide and earnest as looks up at you. You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, starting your descent on her body, your fingers drawing circles on her hips as your lips mark her skin. Your hunger grows, your cunt growing wetter with each moan you pull from her pouty lips. You play with her breasts, leaving a trail of spit where your tongue meets her skin. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pushing your head down.

You feel Amber move behind you, the bed dipping with her weight. She shuffles closer, and you feel her strap poking your thigh. You shudder as she forces you up on your knees, your back arched, your ass in the air. You manage to hold yourself on your elbows, your face right against Tara's pussy, making your mouth water. She's soaked, her clit swollen with need.

"Fuck, you two look so beautiful," Amber gasps, running a hand down your spine before nudging the tip of her silicone cock against your entrance. Your whole body shudders and you take a few steadying breaths before leaning down and burying your face in the smaller girl's heat.

Tara's hips jolt violently at the first swipe of your tongue, her moans ring in your ears. You put your hands on her hips, pinning her down as you continue licking her wet folds, humming at the taste.

She tastes devine.

You're ready to push your tongue inside, when Amber finally moves, thrusting her hips with enough force to press you against Tara's core. You moan around her clit, sucking eagerly as Amber sets up a pace behind you. It's fast and deep, and you whimper pathetically every time she pulls out.

Tara whines, pulling at your hair, and you finally get enough of a hold on yourself to thrust your fingers inside her warmth. You suck on her clit, scissoring your fingers inside, enjoying the way her pussy stretches around your digits.

"Baby, fuck," Tara moans, pushing your face into her pussy. You hum, sending jolts of pleasures around her core.

"Good girl," Amber praises behind you, bending over your back to press kisses to your shoulders, "You're doing so good for us, beautiful… Taking me so well and making Tara feel good. What a special princess we have."

You mewl at the praise, arching your back more and meeting her thrust halfway. She reaches around you to cup your breasts, tugging at your erect nipples and twisting them between her fingers. You moan into Tara's heat, thrusting three fingers inside at a quick pace, feeling her clench harder before she falls apart under your tongue. She cries out your name, then Amber's, before her moans turn incoherent. You keep moving inside her slowly, lapping her juices before she starts to pull away.

You stay between her legs, nose buried under her hipbone as Amber sets up a quicker pace now that Tara is taken care of. Your body bounces from the strength behind her thrusts, filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing around the room. Tara pets your hair, shushing you when your screams get too loud.

"Do you want everyone to hear?" She asks, tilting your face up. You moan louder when one of her hands sneaks down your body to play with your clit, putting pressure on the pulsing nub. "Do you want everyone to know what we're doing up here?"

"Y-yes," you moan, clinging to the smaller girl.

Amber chuckles from behind you and pulls Tara in for a wet kiss, their tongue dancing in heat of passion, her hips slowing while she enjoys her girlfriends lips.

You wiggle your ass impatiently and the strap shifts inside you, making you gasp. Tara hums, and pulls away from Amber, tugging you up claiming your lips. Amber picks up her pace again, this time thrusting deeper, making your legs tremble. Your arms can no longer hold your weight, so you fall on top of Tara, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck.

"Fuck, I wish I could take a picture," Amber pants, snapping her hips faster. "My girls, looking so pretty." She puts her hands on your cheeks possessively, spreading them apart, before you feel something wet and warm on your skin. She spreads her spit over your puckered hole, teasing. "You'll give it to me, won't you?"

You nod, your face wet with tears and Tara's slick, your whole body tensing as you approach the edge. Tara moves her finger faster, feeling your heartbeat in your clit, and presses her palm to your lips right when you're about to snap.

Your orgasm comes with a blinding flash and a muffled scream, your body shaking in their hold. Amber continues fucking you, drawing out your orgasm, while Tara gently massages your sides.

"You're okay, baby, you were perfect for us," she whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Amber pulls out and you fall beside Tara, your body spent and limp, and she wraps her arms around you. Amber lies on your other side only a moment later, pulling you into her chest. "Rest, princess. You'll need your strength tomorrow."

[upon-sunflower-trails]

it cries a soft weep like mine

nam-gyu x reader | oneshot | 1965 words

songfic, i guess? based on eric by mitski. if i'm being honest, this fic was really cathartic for me to write.

warnings: nsfw. pretty fucking toxic relationship, nothing physically or sexually abusive, but it's really toxic. fairly graphic depictions of sex. emotional abuse. manipulation. dacryphilia.

You like control, well, I do too

Take off my clothes and watch me move

You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me

How you choose

It had been a little over six months since you decided to pursue a relationship with Nam-gyu. You'd met him through a mutual friend, where the attraction was almost instantaneous.

That's all it seemed to be. Purely physical attraction. You knew you wanted more, to have a relationship that was full of genuine intimacy. You wanted the sort of love that led to late night conversations in bed, with your hands threaded in his hair as you both looked up at the ceiling, gentle smiles on your faces.

Nam-gyu was not that kind of lover. It was all about how far he could take things without you pushing back. He used you for sex and not much else— it's not like he was ever home. You couldn't tell if you preferred the crippling solitude that settled in your gut when he was out doing god-knows-what during the day, or if you wanted to cling to him despite the ways he made it clear you were of no importance to him.

In the beginning, you pushed back. You two would constantly argue over the smallest of things. He wanted to be his own person, even if it meant disrespecting his relationship with you. You still had enough strength to stand your ground, to yell back as he slammed his fist against the counter. 

You still remembered the first time you had come home to him in bed with someone else, as they scurried out of the door as Nam-gyu laid still in bed with a smirk on his face, disregarding the angry tears streaming down your face as you shouted at him like a rabid dog barking at its owner. 

You wanted to leave then, but he convinced you to stay the same way he always did. Pleading with you, pretending he cared in that moment— promising he would change, that he had a moment of weakness. Things had been so difficult for him, he wasn't in the right state of mind. And then he'd have you bare in front of him, knowing he would be able to reel you back in any time.

Help me with the zipper on my skirt, it's stuck

As you kneel, I'll be watching you fix me

This view of you, of the top of your head

Makes me forgive you

After a few months, even your mutual friends could tell things weren't right between you and your boyfriend. You had become more withdrawn and careful with your words. You refused to drink, knowing it would lead to you breaking down and spilling your guts to anyone in proximity to you. 

Nam-gyu paraded you around as if you were an exotic pet on a leash. He would shut you up if you even dared to speak in front of the people who were no longer your friends, but his. He convinced you that their worried glances were instead glares of disgust, that everyone knew how mean you were to him behind closed doors. You believed him; how could you yell at him when he had been trying so hard to get better?

At one get-together, the same person you had caught him sleeping with was there. Even in your wounded state, it festered— festered until you could feel every rational part of you become infected with blind rage. You snapped as he placed an arm on theirs after ignoring you all night, even though to anyone who was watching it was obvious he was simply helping to steady them after they had fallen.

You were made to be the fool. Onlookers saw you as insecure, jealous, crazy. Nam-gyu played the part of the hurt boyfriend who couldn't believe the accusations you were throwing at him. Everyone believed him, because why would they trust you? You had been acting strange and distant for months now.

That night, Nam-gyu hadn't berated you. He simply helped you undress, murmuring that he would make it up to you.

"Don't know why you always make me out to be the bad guy, baby." "I was just tryin' to help them. Didn't you see them fall?" "We already talked about this, why do you keep bringing it up?" "Am I not allowed to have friends now? I'll just stop talking to them, if that's what you want. In fact, I'll stop going out entirely."

He said it all as he helped you out of the shoes that were blistering your feet, unzipping the skirt you had been fiddling with all night. He looked up at you through his lashes, eyes glistening as he did his best to seem hurt by your accusations. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he jutted out his bottom lip, wailing that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

So you let him back in again. You turned a blind eye yet again to all the trouble he had caused you, because at least he was a good fuck for the night.

But how long, how long can we play this way?

I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you

My heart, my heart wants to hold you

But I know, I know, I know the rules

Six months in, you knew you held nothing but an odd mix of sorrow and contempt for Nam-gyu. You tried to rationalize it, that this was what love was really supposed to feel like. 

The only physical intimacy he engaged in with you was sex. It was never gentle, or soft, or tender; it was bordering on violent and possessive, despite you not truly belonging to him. And as soon as he had spilt himself into you, he would turn away and not allow you to hold or touch him. He claimed he never saw the point of cuddling or any sort of aftercare.

You knew he heard the sobs that racked your body every night. As you clutched the comforter close to your bare chest, pillow wet as the thick seed between your legs served as a constant reminder of what you were putting yourself through.

Some nights, you would reach out as he was sleeping, desperate to brush the stray hairs from his face. He truly looked peaceful like this, his resting state making you forget how cruel he could be. Every time you outstretched your limbs, craving any sort of loving embrace, you retracted at the last minute. You knew to roll back over and force your eyes shut, praying that perhaps this was all just a bad dream you were going to wake up from. That you were in such a happy relationship in real life, you were forced to have constant nightmares of what a terrible relationship would look like.

And every morning, as harsh sunlight beat in through the blinds on your face, you were reminded that this was your reality. That you would turn over, and Nam-gyu would be gone— not in the way that he had never existed, as the divet in the mattress suggested, but that he left without bidding you farewell as any good lover should.

You knew you weren't in love with him. How could you be? You despised him, deep down, even if you never admitted it to yourself. But you had promised yourself to him at some point down the line, and he hadn't dumped you on the side of the road yet.

So, for now, you stayed.

Blue light, dark room, the white of your teeth

As you smile at my trembling shoulders

But your skin, did you notice your skin?

It cries a soft weep like mine

You always tended to cry during sex with Nam-gyu. Perhaps he had just gotten used to it, or he had twisted in his mind that they were tears of pleasure. Either way, it didn't matter.

You enjoyed the release, yes, you only stayed with him for the pleasure. Well, that was what you told yourself. 

You wept as he thrust into you, because it was the only time the relationship felt real. His presence was overpowering, as the stench of his cologne settled into your nostrils while the cold sensation of his rings against your sides were the only thing keeping your mind tethered to reality.

He would growl into your shoulder as he bit and nipped at you, leaving marks that you never hesitated to cover (since they were a reminder that you were with him). His teeth shone in the low light of your "shared" bedroom, amusement coming out as a hiss as you cried out his name, a mix of pleasure and despair at your current situation.

Insults and degradation would be hurled your way under the guise of him "getting too into the moment." You always tried to ignore when he would moan out someone else's name. It only made you cry harder, and that only made him rougher. You guessed that your sobs spurred him on, that in some twisted sort of way seeing you in such a broken state aided his arousal. You never wanted to think too much into it, lest you begin to bawl even more.

Every once in a while, on extremely rare occasion, he would let a tear slip as well. Maybe it was a sign he was still human, too. That deep down, he felt sorry for what he had put you through. He was always quick to hide it as soon as it happened, and just like that he would go back to the same Nam-gyu he always was.

Those nights, you would always hear sniffling and muffled sobs beside you as you wiped your silent tears away.

I'll sell, I'll sell my whole to you

What's my, what's my, what's my price?

How about, how about just a part of you?

You were too deep in to leave when Nam-gyu finally began investing your money in things as well. He had lost everything already, and now needed your financial aid to pick him up off the ground. You wanted to be the perfect partner to him, to support him in his time of need. You tried to find any positive you could about him as you got deeper and deeper into the relationship, making decisions that would only solidify your inability to leave him.

You had lost everything alongside him, drowning in debt as he made even more irresponsible decisions with your money. You couldn't even stick up for yourself, let alone get out of the situation entirely. You were stuck, practically entrapped with a barbed-wire engagement ring digging into your finger. You laughed at the idea, but realized the metaphor didn't seem so far-fetched.

You weren't sure what it was that you did that finally pushed Nam-gyu over the edge. He abandoned you without a word, one day muttering something about making up his debts and the next day vanishing into thin air. You weren't sure if he'd ever return. Deep down, you knew you didn't want him to. But as it stood, you were crushed. Lost and hopeless without him, simply going through the motions everyday with no solace in pretending he loved you at night while being shoved against the headboard.

In some strange way, you missed him. It wasn't as though he completed you, but you had become so wrapped up in a life not with him, but of him, that you weren't sure how to exist outside of being Nam-gyu's. 

You weren't sure how to survive without the assurance of him being in your life.

'Cause I want, I want, I want, I want

I want, I want, I want, I want, I want.

[tayraedoll]

Mine for Eternity

Part two of Mine for the Taking

MDNI 18+

Part 1

TW: Alastor is his own warning, manipulation, pregnancy, birth(not an accurate portrayal- just enough detail for the story and that is it), swearing, oral (female receiving) hair pulling, p in v intercourse, nipple play, slight bondage, biting

If any portrayal of birth makes you uncomfortable feel free to skip from "Alastor ushered you over to the bed and with a snap of his fingers your medical team arrived in the room with you" to ""Congratulations! You have a daughter!", the midwife smiled down at you before going about her post-birth duties".

You have been warned.

Word Count: 3,792

Alastor paced outside your bathroom door rather impatiently. He ground his teeth in frustration, smile pulled tight across his face; he wanted to be in the bathroom with you but you had kicked him out. Why you wanted to keep him from sharing this moment with you he had no idea, but he relented to your request for privacy- he was a gentleman after all.

You never cycled back into estrus during the mating season. You should have cycled a couple more times like the other doe sinners. Your lack of repeated estrus could only mean one thing- you were pregnant, he bred you the first time around.

The buck was quite a prideful man; he was quite happy to continue fucking you to relieve his rut, chest puffed out that his job was done after the first round and now he was just having fun. He was absolutely over the moon that soon he would see your body swell with his offspring.

Now, it was two weeks passed the mating season and you have not menstruated, body holding onto the blood and tissues needed to nourish the growing fetus he knew was inside of you. Alastor all but skipped to the drugstore to purchase the pregnancy test normally only used by hellborns; but no one dared question The Radio Demon. His joyous mood was only dampened when you had barred his entry into your en suite with you. He wanted to witness the moment the test turned positive but you pleaded that you would be more comfortable alone and he did not want his darling doe to be uncomfortable in his presence.

The demon was by your side the moment you emerged from the en suite. He watched your face carefully, cataloging every emotion the flitted across it- wonder, apprehension, joy, nervousness- as you slowly handed the test over to him. Alastor barely had to look at it, immediately catching the two lines, his smile nearly split his face at the confirmation that his desired outcome came to fruition.

"I didn't even know that it was possible", you whispered, looking up at him timidly, nervous about his reaction to the news.

"Mon Cher, you are incredibly special. This is a sign that you were always meant to be mine", he cradled your face in his hands and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. No need to worry your pretty head with how he was directly responsible for this "miracle".

"How do we tell the others?", you ask as you lean into his tender embrace. You close your eyes as happy tears begin rolling down your cheeks. Alastor stooped forward to kiss those little drops away.

"Hmm, you just leave that to me My Dear. Your job is to remain happy and stress-free so our offspring can grow healthy and strong inside of you. I will take care of everything." He picked you up bridal-style and carried you over to your bed, climbing in gently and laying you across his chest as his claws ran gently down your back in a soothing manner. You hummed happily and snuggled into him, excitedly anticipating this next chapter of your afterlife.

The news was met with a myriad of reactions from the other hotel guests, the most common being shock and worry for you. Lucifer in particular reacted with utter disgust. Not at you or your baby of course, but at the father. If the deplorable cannibal wanted literal demonic spawn then fine- he could surely just conjure a shadow child for himself. Why did he have to bring you into it? Why did he have to take someone so gentle and sweet and corrupt their innocence in such a way? He knew Alastor must have done something to cause this, there was no way this just happened without a catalyst and he doubted very much that the cause was love. The devil nearly threw all his self-restraint aside and killed the red demon right then and there if Charlie had not stepped in.

Charlie was the most accepting of the situation. Although she was sad that your redemption was now an impossibility, she was excited about the baby. She was constantly gushing over you and telling you what a great mom you were going to be. The princess took it upon herself to plan your baby shower, putting together a small gathering with an adorable little deer theme. The napkins and balloons had little fawns on them, the cookies were pink and blue deer since you were waiting to find out the gender, and the gifts were wrapped in thick, brown paper to resemble tree trunks.

Alastor was an extremely doting father-to-be. True to his word, he literally took care of everything for you. He carefully kept track of your micro and macro nutrient intake, you were not allowed to consume anything that he did not make for you- the only exception being an occasional cookie from Niffty. A fight nearly broke out in the kitchen one day when Lucifer was making pancakes and had the audacity to try to give you one; once again the only reason blood was not shed was due to Charlie's intervention. He was at every doctor appointment, every ultrasound, and every test. Your medical team was the best Hell had to offer, you received only the best treatment due to fear of becoming guests on Alastor's radio broadcast if anything were to go wrong.

As your pregnancy progressed and your womb inflated, Alastor became more and more possessive protective. He loved the way your body changed, how it accommodated the life growing inside of it and prepared for delivery. He lovingly caressed the stretch marks that formed across your hips and waist with both his claws and lips. His large hands would wrap around you from behind and he'd ever so gently lift your baby bump and keep the weight supported in his hands to give your lower back and hips a moment of relief. The demon reminded you daily how breathtakingly beautiful you were, quickly extinguishing all your self-depreciating thoughts the moment they formed. Soft jazz would play every night as he'd lay with his ear on your belly, listening to the fetus within as he sang along to the gentle tune.

When summer arrived and your due date loomed near Alastor was on edge, scrupulously taking notes of your behaviors as he waited for signs of labor. You were not allowed out of his sight anymore, he had become your very own shadow. The day your breasts swelled with milk was the day he officially secluded you away in his room which was fine by you as you no longer had the energy to be around the others anymore. You sought out the safety and comfort only provided by your buck.

A few days later you became restless, constantly pacing around the bayou section of the room. Your belly was so swollen you were constantly uncomfortable no matter if you were sitting, standing, or laying down. Alastor offered you what comforts he could, but mainly stayed by your side as a silent observer. Finally, after what seemed like days of pacing around uncomfortably, contractions became regular and closer together. Alastor ushered you over to the bed and with a snap of his fingers your medical team arrived in the room with you.

"Alright Miss, it is time to push!", the little imp midwife told you. Alastor was by your side, your hand wrapped around his with crushing force although he did not show any signs of discomfort.

"You are doing so well", he murmured against your temple before looking back down to where your child was exiting your womb.

You grit your teeth as you began your push, hissing your breath out between them before slumping back down to the bed.

"Very good, just one more Miss, baby is nearly here!", the jovial little imp chirped at you. You took deep breaths and then pushed again, letting out a piercing battle cry as your body finally birthed your newborn. You fell back again, breathing heavily and sweat drenching every part of your body. You were slightly disoriented but you instantly perked up at the shrill cry of your fawn. Before long your newborn was placed on your bare chest as tears of pure joy cascaded down your cheeks. She was the spitting image of her father, the same vibrant red and black features. Though she had your large, innocent doe eyes.

"Congratulations! You have a daughter!", the midwife smiled down at you before going about her post-birth duties.

Alastor leaned down to kiss your sweaty temple once more, "I am so proud of you Mon Cher. She is absolutely perfect!" He lovingly ran the back of a finger up and down your infant's back, cooing softly at her. "What shall we call her?"

You really were not in a state of mind to think about names at the moment. You sighed softly, "Any names that you like?"

The demon hummed thoughtfully,"What about Bessie Marie? Bessie Smith was the top female vocalist in my life, she made quite the impression on me. The number one baby girl name of my time was Mary, but Marie rolls off the tongue much easier don't you think?"

You mulled it over, getting a feel for the name on your tongue, "Bessie Marie Hartfelt. I love it! Hi baby Bessie, I love you so incredibly much." you murmured into your daughter's ears.

"Get some rest Mon Cher. I'll keep watch.", Alastor whispered softly, taking Bessie and cradling her protectively in his arms. You snuggled against him, succumbing quickly to a much-needed sleep. Alastor vigilantly watched over you both, Bessie never leaving his arms all night, smiling sweetly down at his little family. It was the first night of many that he would spend feeling like he was as close to heaven as he would ever be.

Bessie quickly became the universal favorite resident of the hotel. She definitely inherited her father's charm, but hers was more innocent and sweet thanks to your influence. Even Husk and Lucifer were not immune to her allure, Husk actually cracking a smile at her and Lucifer's own daddy instincts kicking in much to Alastor's displeasure. Charlie was always at the ready to babysit if you and Alastor wanted a night to yourselves. The little fawn had everyone wrapped around her finger as soon as they met her.

Alastor's existence had never felt more fulfilling than when he became a father. Not when he first became a radio host, not when he became a murderer, not even when he became an Overlord, all of those milestones were overshadowed when he became a father. Bessie was everything to him, he knew he would set the world ablaze if she asked him to. The buck was involved completely in his daughter's upbringing, not a man happy to take a backseat in any way. He changed diapers, fed and burped her, and played with her every chance he got. As she got older, he happily joined tea parties and dressed up as all Bessie's favorite book characters (television and movies were strictly forbidden).

As Bessie left the infant stage and became a toddler, Alastor started to feel like that hole in his heart cracked open again, like something was missing. This confused the demon at first, why had this feeling returned when it had been sated for so long? He found himself staring down at his young daughter as she slept in her bed, reminiscing her newborn days, when the answer washed over him. He wanted another baby. Family's had an average of 3-5 children when he was alive, he suspected he would want at least that many.

You had not come into estrus the mating season after Bessie was born for you already had a young fawn you needed to take care of. But surely your body would be ready to come into heat again this season. As Alastor sat there thinking of your pregnant body; how your womb and breasts swelled, hips widened, your total dependency on him, all thoughts that made his cock stir in his pants. Yes, his mind was made up- he would breed you again this year so that you will give him another heir. He'd make that a part of your deal- his protection of you in exchange for as large of a family as he wanted; a pregnancy every other year until he was satisfied. He knew better than to set a required number of fawns- deer were prone to having twins. A required number of pregnancies was more beneficial for him to gain as many children as possible.

That fall, the buck waited patiently for your body to respond to the season as he knew it would. You were still largely in the dark about your heat, only ever experiencing it once two years ago. Your early signs of estrus were slightly different than they were the first time around due to already having a young fawn. Much like Alastor, your earliest sign was the longing for your babe to be so new to the world again. You got emotional, crying silently as you went through Bessie's newborn clothes and toys, clutching them to your chest as you willed time to slow down. Your sweet scent rapidly spiked with your emotional state, alerting Alastor to your hormonal plight.

"Oh my, whatever has you in such low spirits Mon Cher?", he cooed at you as he walked over to where you were on the bed, Bessie's baby items strewn all around you.

"She's just getting so big! Before we know it she will be all grown up and she won't need us anymore.", you sniffed, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. He hands you a cup of tea, which you gratefully take and sip eagerly from, letting the warm liquid soothe your inner turmoil.

Alastor's smile softened as his thumb gently wiped your tears away, "Such is the natural way of things My Dear. But you know, we can try for another...gift our little Bessie with a sibling", he sat behind you as he started massaging your hunched shoulders, his voice lowering to a barely audible whisper in your ear.

Your ears stood straight up as you gasped at his proposal, "Alastor, we have no idea if that is even possible! For all we know Bessie was a total fluke, a complete miracle!"

The Overlord hummed, 'a fluke-no, a miracle- yes, a miracle of his own making', he thought as he eyed your nearly empty cup of tea. He began placing wet, open-mouth kisses along your neck, brushing his cheeks against yours to mix your pheromones together, "Well, where is the harm in trying Darling? We could very well get lucky a second time."

"I am not sure I am ready for another one yet...", you mutter unconvincingly, without any authority in your voice as you stretch your neck out to give him easier access. Heat was pooling low in your belly, thighs rubbing together as he nipped at your tender flesh. His arms came around you to grab one of Bessie's old onesies, holding it up before you both.

"Oh but you make such as wonderful mother Mon Cher. It would be a tragedy to limit your affections to just one fawn", he gently placed the onesie in your lap over your womb, your own hands coming up to cradle it there. "But I suppose if you are not ready then I will not push the subject", he gave you one last peck on the cheek before abruptly standing up and walking away with his arms crossed behind his back, humming away as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Wait!", you called after him, a desperate edge to your voice, "You're right, there's no harm in trying..." you bit your bottom lip "for another baby", you whispered out.

The demon's eyes flashed in triumph, his grin sharpening slightly before he turned back to you, "Oh Darling, I just knew you'd see it my way!"

He was on you in a flash, pushing you down into the mattress as his scent overwhelmed you. All doubts that you wanted this instantly vanished from your mind as the rut fully took over. His lips captured your in a feverish kiss, immediately nipping down on your bottom lip and plunging his tongue down your throat when you gasped. He was everywhere, hands running along the entire length of your body, tongue massaging your throat, weight pinning you down completely; your entire world began and ended with Alastor.

He roughly palmed at your breasts through your shirt, "I cannot wait to see these engorged with milk again", he growled out. Before you could respond he grabbed each side of your shirt collar and ripped your shirt in half. Upon seeing your lack of bra he swiftly swooped down and captured a nipple in his mouth while his thumb swirled around the other eliciting a high-pitched keen from you. His free hand traveled down to your pants, slipping passed the waistband and lightly stroking your clit through for panties. "Your bosom was never more enticing than when it was feeding my young."

The buck traveled down your navel, nipping your sensitive skin to create raised welts signifying his ownership of your body. Your heart hammered away in your chest, his thumb pressing harder into your nub. As he traveled south he latched onto your waistband with his teeth, pulling your pants and panties down with his mouth. One hand went up to press on your hips while the other spread your lower lips to reveal your most intimate parts, soaking the sheets beneath you as your juices flowed out of you. Crimson painted your cheeks as you bit your lip, feeling more exposed than ever before. "Remember our rule Mon Cher?"

"Do not take my eyes off of you". you obediently recited.

"Good girl", he dove between your legs, running his nose along your slit and inhaling the scent of you in such an obscene display it would have made Val's movies look tame. His tongue licked a rough stripe up your sex before circling around your clit. His teeth lightly grazed your nub as he sucked it between his lips, two fingers pushing inside of you. You struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting so desperately to throw your head back, but you dutifully kept your eyes fixed on your mate like he asked you to. You whimpered as your thighs tensed, the coil in your abdomen tightening rapidly.

Alastor curled his fingers and pressed into that spongy spot inside you, creating black spots in your vision as you struggled to keep your eyes open. His sucking on your clit became so intense it bordered on painful; then, one precise nip of teeth on your sensitive nub later, the coil harshly snapped and you let out a strangled cry of his name as you completely came undone.

You felt like you were floating for a bit, only vaguely aware of the sound of Alastor undressing beside you. It wasn't until you felt his hands on your hips flipping you around that you fully came back to yourself. You were on your knees and forearms, ass high in the air and back arched deliciously as your buck positioned himself behind you. He leaned forward and wrapped your hair around one hand, pulling tight to keep your back in a low arch, chest brushing the mattress below you.

"You are going to look exquisite swollen with my seed again Mon Cher. Truly a sight to behold!", he nipped the skin of your shoulders. You whined as he sank inside you to the hilt, his free hand gripped your hip so hard it was sure to bruise, effectively keeping you in place. His first thrust was sharp and hard, his tip battering into your cervix making you cry out.

His pace rapidly picked up until he was hammering into your cunt, his pelvis angled in a way that his balls would slap into your clit with each thrust into you. The squelching that enveloped all sound in the room was downright pornographic mixing with your gasps and moans and Alastor's grunts. "I'm going to fill you to the brim, you are going to give me another fawn- hopefully two! I will do everything in my power to keep you pregnant for the majority of the next decade at least!"

You groaned loudly into the mattress, only half-absorbing what he was saying. At this moment, you were so preoccupied with your pleasure that you would have agreed to anything he asked for. His thrusts grew sloppy, his vice-like grip on your hair tightened impossibly more- the pain only adding to the euphoria you found yourself in. "Cum with me Darling! Milk me for every last drop!"

Your jaw dropped open in a silent scream as you did exactly what he told you to do. You felt the hot ropes of seed spray into your greedy womb, giving you a satisfying full feeling. All strength drained from you, but before you could slump forward a cold, smooth tentacle wrapped around your waist to hold you up. "Not quite yet Mon Cher, you need to stay up so that nothing leaks out."

Alastor slowly pulled out and let go of your hair, your neck finally getting some relief from being tightly held back. He started kissing up your spine, soothing the tension in your back. You stayed like that for a few minutes until the tentacle finally disappeared and Alastor wrapped you in his arms.

You laid there for awhile, enjoying how Alastor's claws caressed you from shoulder to waist before finally speaking, "Do you think it will work again?"

Alastor looked back over to your empty teacup on the table, letting out a chuckle, the dark undertone of which was not caught by you, "I have a good feeling about it, Mon Cher." You hummed happily and snuggled into him as you drifted off.

Alastor looked down at you for awhile, so gentle and sweet, and oh so oblivious and naive. He adored that about you, how you were so ready to see the good in everyone that red flags never even registered in your mind. He wondered how long it would last- a decade? a century? perhaps an eternity? No matter, you were bound to him for the rest of your joint damnation together; and he would be sure to take advantage of every second of it.

After all, you only had forever- not long at all.

Thanks for reading!

@fandomgoddess05-blog

@littlebluefishtail

@cryssyd

@michi-keinz

@fairyv-ice

[sundew199]

Zoro doesn’t understand why you’re so upset with him, why your bright eyes burn with tears that hold the weight of anger and frustration. He swore his intentions were true, rushing to your side in the midst of battle to shove you away, so why were cheeks stained with salty tears that make his heart hurt?

You’re never truly angry at him, mostly annoyed or frustrated at his constant playful teasing, so it worries him the more your face pinches and twists with distain. Had he truly done the wrong thing in coming after you, watching you struggle from afar with a Marine who gained the upper hand? Surely he hadn’t.

“I don’t need you to swoop in like I’m some damsel in distress.��

The remark felt like a sword grazing his skin, not deep enough to make him bleed, but enough for a sting to linger. He blinked, deflated in his posture on the edge of the bed, confused and hurt that you didn’t appreciate his quick reaction. He knows you’re capable and possess skill that uphold their value in the crew, but his gut instinct screamed at him that you wouldn’t recover from the upper hand being swept from you and the thought of losing you when he could’ve done something to prevent it makes Zoro physically sick.

Lose is a familiar feeling for him, a familiar experience that lingers over his shoulder like a shadow, haunting him as a reminder that no one is ever safe. Maybe it was bad luck, or a punishment for a sin that he had yet to atone for, Zoro wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, Zoro felt that shadow rest its cold wispy hand on his shoulder as he spotted you across the way, the whispered warning springing him into action.

“But you’re not, I only helped because it didn’t look like you were going to regain the advantage.”

His tone was soft and remorseful, apologetic for making you feel less than what you’re worth, and how dare he? The warring sides of wrong and right were muddled yet clear. Zoro knew he did the right thing, but guilt clung to him in such an odd way.

“I had him Zoro.”

“Did you?”

Emotions switching at the bite in your tone, the way bitterness bled through like ink to a rag, quick and furious. You physically shot back, uncrossing your arms, pulling your brows tighter than they had been before.

“You’re the one who built up my confidence, trained me on close combat and now you questions me? Was it all so you could bring it all down and prove I’ll never be as strong as you?”

A long breath was inhaled through his nose, needing to calm himself before even letting the anger rise. Tensions were high on the ship, no one would deny it, Marines catching them at every corner it felt, bearing down on the crew in hopes it would squash like a bug.

“No.”

A scoffing disgusted sound scratched at your throat, throwing your arms in the air. There were a lot of things Zoro didn’t like to admit aloud, afraid of speaking them into existence and watching the shadow that always hung around, greedily take what meant most to him, away.

“Then why Zoro? You know if I ever need help in a battle I’ll tell you in some way and I didn’t this time so why did you-“

“Because I can’t lose you!” Shouting through your words, cutting you off, unable to keep the one thing he feared most inside. You stood frozen in front of him, appalled at the confession and the genuine fear written on his face. He watched the way the lines on your face contorted with conflict and reason, unable to come to a conclusion. Whatever was between the two of you was unlabeled, but spoken and unspoken love washed over the both of you in a gentle wave. Platonic at first and quickly turning romantic, a connection that excited Zoro and then later scared him as the reminder of what happened to those he loved. In some way or another it was ripped from him unexpectedly, eventually making it easy for self isolation to creep in and become a friend. All that changed with his captain drug him aboard for an adventure, soften his wall and making it almost easy for you creep into the cracks and urge him to accept you, and for a while, all without the fear of losing you.

“I can’t lose anyone else, I’ve lost enough.”

Forcing himself to meet your gaze, the buried emotions of a boy who spend more than ten plus years of his life alone coming forth. He never got the opportunity to know his parents enough to mourn them like a child who did, his father a faint figure and his mother a blurry face when he tried to think of her. He was never able to understand his grief when Kuina died, so young and full of fire that her death only motivated him to continue to pursue their shared dream. Zoro pushed forward when life threw his curveballs, accepting them then storing them away so they wouldn’t cloud his judgement or deter him from his goal. But that didn’t mean he was incapable of caring or fearing, honing the skill of hiding early on.

This crew, his captain and ship mates were the one thing he refused to lose. He refused to let you slip from his grasp, to watch the life fade from your eyes as he begged for you to hold on. Zoro doesn’t think he’d recover if he were to experience that. You were the light that peaked through the clouds of his gloomy life, the small ray of sun that he accepted and let shoo the other clouds away.

Seeing you lose the upper hand to the marine earlier, struck a fear in him like none other, something he doesn’t think he’s felt before. And Zoro would be damned if he didn’t make to you in time.

“I’m sorry,” beginning again but being silenced by the hand cradling the side of his face, warmth from the palm he’d grown so fond of.

“No I’m sorry Zoro, I-“ Wavering words broke, a sniffle of regret prompting him to bring you down into an embrace. Arms wrapped securely around you, holding you as if the shadow would cruelly take you as a sort of joke for confessing his fear.

“I just can’t, I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you weren’t here, I’d regret not reaching you fast enough and die lying by your grave and wishing it were me instead of you.”

And he meant that, every word. One little scare gave him a glimpse of what could possibly be and Zoro hated it. You were more than a fellow crewmate at this point, and call him selfish but Zoro didn’t want to imagine the crew without you.

“You won’t have to, I promise. I’m sorry for my reaction, I didn’t know and thought you saw me as weak.”

Bringing you away so he could look you in the eyes and wipe away the tears, Zoro smiled faintly.

“You’re anything but that, I just don’t want to take any chances.” Cradling the back of your neck, bringing his lips to your cheek and kissing over a tear streak. Your hands found its way to the short hair toward his neck, threading it through your fingers and holding him close.

You didn’t say anything else and Zoro took it as understanding, acceptance for his worries and forgiving him even though there wasn’t anything to forgive. Words didn’t need to be said to know the love Zoro held for you was strong, strong enough to throw himself in hopes of sparing you from a blade or bullet. And though Zoro couldn’t live in a world without you, he’d be okay with sacrificing his own if it meant you’d get away unscathed because Zoro couldn’t handle anymore loss, even if that meant trading your loss with his own.

꧁༄꧂

a/n: needed to write something sort of gentle for him, sorry if it’s slightly angsty ~(>_<~)

[wandasgf]

WUNDAGORE. 18+. mdni.

pairing: villain!wanda maximoff + avenger!reader

summary: wanda gets rid of that pesky memory block of yours

warnings: angst, emotional and mental manipulation, mentions of murder, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and confused, one (1) mommy, allusion to smut at the end

wc: 1.6k~

a/n: кошечка (koshechka) = kitty

The wind that blows past is frigid and the rocks underneath your hands are sharp-edged and cold as you stare up at the Scarlet Witch or whatever the hell Wanda was calling herself these days from your place on the ground. You’re tempted to try and kick her feet out from under her where she’s standing above you, catch her off guard and send her tumbling down the cliff, but you don’t. You just glare up at her, knowing that even if you managed to catch her off guard, she would never fall that easily. She would rise up like the most beautiful archdemon you’ve ever seen and deal whatever damage you’d dealt to her tenfold. To anyone who might be watching, lurking in the shadows but not daring to interrupt either of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure hatred, disgust in its purest form that mirrors the look in Wanda’s eyes. But you both know it’s not true, that the hatred disguises something much worse. Something you’d never admit even in the emptiest of places, something Wanda would only ever admit in your dreams. Something that would destroy you both if you’re not careful. 

“You’re disgusting.” You spit, icy and cold. “Destroying those universes like it’s nothing, like they’re nothing.” You finally get your bearings back, standing up and clenching your fists at your side, trying your best not to just hit her, punch her, shove her down, anything. “All for what? So you can get back a man who tried to kill you?” Jealousy. “A man who wanted to destroy the universe and start over to create the perfect humanity? You know, the more I think about it, the more I think maybe the two of you really are meant for each other.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Wanda hisses, and you think she might push you down again, but instead she pulls you closer to her by your collar. You can feel her warm breath against your skin and you have to repress a shiver. “You think that you know everything about everyone, don’t you? You think I’m doing this for that man? You think any of this is for him?” She laughs like you’ve just said the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” It’s almost comical to her that you really think that, that you’re so god damn blind that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. She knows why you can’t see it, of course, but she hadn’t always realized how susceptible you were. You can’t see that she’s been trying to find another universe, any other universe where you don’t hate her anymore, where she didn’t fuck everything up and the Avengers didn’t take you away from her. 

She knows she should stop talking, she knows she should shut her mouth before she makes things worse, but she can’t stop herself. She knows how to play the role of the villain to a T now, and if the only way she gets to be close to you again is to make you cry then so be it. “You think you’re better than me because you kill people in the name of the Avengers instead of your own?” She laughs, her grip on your shirt tightening. “I have some news for you, little hero, you’re certainly no better than I am. What is it that keeps you there, anyway? You know you don’t belong there.” It’s a low blow, but she knows how true it is even if you no longer do, “Is it the Russian? Do you stay so you can see the look of approval in her eyes whenever you kill someone for her?” Jealousy. “But you’d do it even if she didn’t ask. I’d say you and I are rather the same, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck you!” The smirk that curls on her lips makes you nauseous and you push her away from you. You know that she let you, loosened her grip on your shirt so you could feel like you’re even half as strong as she is, but you don’t care. “I think that I know everything? What about you! Acting like you know anything about me besides what my blood looks like on your hands.” Your hands are shaking both because of the look Wanda gives you and because you’re upset that she would ever bring up Natasha. Upset at the possibility that this encounter would taint your relationship with the Russian redhead, that Wanda’s words would burn at the back of your mind like acid. Because it’s not true, what she said is not true. You don’t like killing those people, you don’t like seeing their blood on your hands or seeing the light drain from their eyes. You don’t like it. You don’t. 

Wanda doesn’t have to look into your mind to know what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face. She knows she hit a sore spot with that comment. “I don’t know anything about you?” She tilts her head, taking a step towards you as you take one away from her. “You always talk,” another step forward, “like you know,” and another, “what you’re saying” and then another, you try to take another step backward, but your back hits the jagged wall of the cave, “but you don’t, do you?” Wanda hadn’t been this close to you since she had nearly torn your heart out of your chest and it was making you dizzy. Had she always smelled this familiar and good? You’re very purposefully avoiding eye contact, not wanting to see the satisfaction in her eyes at having cornered you. Suddenly you feel Wanda’s hand gripping your face and forcing you to look at her, “No, you don’t. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Wanda’s eyes glow red for just a minute and you feel like there’s a fog in your brain being lifted before your memories crash down on you like a tidal wave. Wanda’s eyes go back to their regular green color and her hand moves to cup your cheek, her darkened fingertips tapping against your skin. She gives you a second, knows this is going to be a lot for you. She did just unlock over 5 years of forcefully forgotten memories after all. She wasn’t going to do this, it will result in everything the Avengers have at their disposal being thrown at her for taking away their leverage over her, but they shouldn’t have let you come alone and she was growing rather tired of hearing you hurl insults at her and seeing the way you beamed up at Natasha whenever she caught the two of you together. This was poor planning on the Avengers’ part, that’s all. 

Suddenly you feel nauseous, every memory you’ve ever had with Wanda hitting you with full force. You feel like you’ve just gotten a metal bat to the gut and then again to your head. You don’t know what to think. Was this real? Did Wanda plant those in your head? No, that didn’t seem right. This would certainly explain the way certain Avengers acted around you and the way you felt when Wanda was near. You were explaining that away as anxiety, nervousness over being so close to someone to dangerous and vile. You lean into the warmth of Wanda’s touch before you can even think about stopping yourself. She can see the way your mind is racing, how your pupils are blown as you try to piece everything together. Eventually, you look up at her with those doe eyes you used to use on her and she almost tears up. “Wanda?” There you are. 

“Hi, кошечка. You must be so confused, huh? I know it’s a lot, but I promise things will be better now.” Your head spins at her words and her tone, that tone… everything is too much and not enough all at once. Too much information, but at the same time not enough. Why didn’t you remember any of that before? Why were you ever trying to hurt Wanda? Why was she hurting you back? Was she hurting you back? Why had she been doing all of those horrible things? Your Wanda would never do those things. Except, well, this was your Wanda, so surely that makes it excusable, right? But if she was your Wanda, why weren’t you with her? Wanda taps against your cheek to catch your attention again, noticing how unfocused your eyes are as you spiral in your own mind. “Those Avengers were so mean to take you away from me like they did, trying to turn you against me.” 

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would they do that? I thought they were supposed to be nice, why would they take me from you? Why would… why?” You’re slowly putting the pieces together while trying to cope with the fact that for the past two years you’ve been treating your… your Wanda like an enemy. Your tough exterior is cracking and crumbling as each second goes by, no longer being kept back by the mental barrier you didn’t even know was there. “Oh, my sweet girl, because they’re not nice. They’ve been keeping you like a caged animal, using you like a weapon and tricking you into trusting them.” Wanda’s voice soothes you if only slightly, but the thought of being used like that has you so angry and overwhelmed with all the emotions clashing in your head that you can’t help but let out a quiet whimper, tears forming in your eyes. Wanda coos, bringing you closer and holding you against her chest. She strokes your hair, humming softly before she speaks again, “It’s okay, mommy’s got you. I’ll make it all better, don’t worry.”

[mistress-of-vos]

I'd make a longer post (and maybe one day I will) but since Lore Olympus, the story that introduced me to webtoons is coming to an end I'd like to say something:

I can't believe it is considered problematic. It has to be one of the sweetest, fluffiest, simplest stories I have read (hence why I still like it, it's a relaxing read before bed) and somehow it got too "kinky" for mainstream. It's laughable.

Everytime I dare to click on their tag or look for the # on Twitter or FB I see people clutching their pearls as if Lore Olympus were brainwashing teenagers into marrying a non existent God of the dead and have babies with him. What the hell?

The fact that people think LO is too dark makes me laugh. A single episode of Rick&Morty, BoJack Horseman or HQS has way more explicit content and dialogue. In fact!!! If it were up to me LO would have gotten genuinely kinky!!! All it does is have some surface spicy tropes that get sugar coated to not make puritans awkward and tbh that's sad. LO and the author get terribly hated anyway for daring to portray the most common female fantasy.

And this all makes me laugh but also mad because you'd think LO at least has some genuine dark themes but no? At most we have Persephone's trauma due to Apollo's abuse and yet that topic is treated as a therapy pamphlet because people couldn't handle an imperfect victim. Hades is a wife guy who shows little to no anger. Hera was re written to be sort of a feminist so that people stopped being annoying about women having emotions.

LO is a sweet, simple story with tiny spicy things here and there that were eventually pushed aside because people couldn't handle it. I wonder how Rachel feels about this, because at the beginning the story was extremely spicy and the only crime was being published in a platform as webtoon, full of people who can't differentiate reality from fiction.

Is LO a masterpiece? Idk! I enjoy the story, it's very self indulgent for me, but I won't go and analyze every detail to see how it should be labeled as it's not meant to be a perfect media. It's meant to be an entertaining, nice story of romance and it does that job very well. This need to demand perfect writing while also crucifying authors over "dark" themes is ridiculous and contradictory.

And I keep wondering, if these people loathe LO so much, why dedicate all that time to the infinte posts they make about how they would have told the story? And all those re tellings are boring! It's always "So Persephone and Hades won't ever kiss here because she's a lesbian. Also he doesn't appear at all. And Demeter isn't an abusive mom! Oh and everyone is ugly because gods shouldn't be beautiful! And Apollo isn't evil he's uwu baby. And no toxic relationships here, Zeus is a good husband!"

Sweet Gaia, you guys wouldn't handle Saint Seiya having Athena in the body of a teenage girl with big tits and who's constantly in the edge of breaking her virginity vows. This attitude screams of jealousy and puritanism and both are disgusting.

TLDR: LO being too problematic for people is both funny and annoying. I wished it actually were as kinky and dark as people insist it is. I'd pay for a toxic romance, but that being said, I LOVE it very much as it is and it's nice to have a re telling that, while not pretending to be loyal to mythology, didn't go for a route of sanitizing all the myths. I hope that once it ends haters will move on and let real fans and the author alone. 🙏

[blueteller]

Out of all the bad people in the story, i dislike Director Ma the most. Reading about krs sitting quietly in his chair trying to get a day off to see cjs & lsh hurt alot. Why do you think krs didnt do anything to get revenge on Ma?

Oh, I absolutely agree. Director Ma is THE WORST. The kind of emotional manipulation this man did to KRS? Disgusting. Utterly repulsive.

I was honestly so glad that it was OG Cale in the side-story and not KRS who heard him say... that, but unfortunately, the fact that Director Ma DARED to try guilt-trip OG Cale!KRS for taking a VACATION of all things, to his face, when we all know that OG KRS was a workaholic who rarely ever took days off? It means this sort of thing wasn't new. For all we know, this could have been a regular occurrence in the office. Not this line specifically, but this… general dismissal of KRS's feelings, while simultaneously taking advantage of his emotions and sense of responsibility. It's the "He's not even crying during a funeral" all over again. Those freaking monsters at the Company, how freaking dare they. Just thinking about it makes me angry.

Now, about your question. Why do you think KRS didn't do anything to get revenge on Director Ma?

I actually considered it in the past. We know Cale is someone perfectly capable of taking revenge and getting even. So why would he let this jerk get away with such behavior when clearly he had enough power in the Company to make a difference?

Here are some of my theories.

One, it could be that Director Ma was useful. You might remember, during the Sealed God's Test arc, Cale mentioned knowing the leaders of the shelters and remembering how he was used to asking them for help and cooperation in the past, with much struggle. Director Ma might have been one of many, many individuals that KRS tolerated "for the greater good". As long as he was only a jerk to KRS as a Team Leader and left his teammates alone, I imagine KRS did not think much about his own hurt. He was too practical. If Director Ma was evil like, let's say, Adin, and was planning harm to other people, Cale certainly would never let it go. But a common… jerk, for the lack of a better word? He could have shrugged it off easily.

Two, maybe it was because Director Ma was a senior. Cale is actually really, really Korean in that aspect. Multiple times in the story Cale had a habit of considering how he should treat his seniors. He even remarked about the White Star that "I don't care if he is a total senior, that guy is a crazy bastard from now on". So, the simple cultural habit of respecting his seniors could be at play here. Yes, Director Ma was way out of line with his words, but those were the words of a senior. So even if Cale understood that it wasn't fair to be treated like this, he might have felt obligated to accept it because of the traditional Korean values of social hierarchy.

Three, maybe it was a sense of helplessness. One of the moments that struck me really hard in the flashback when LSH & CJS died, was the fact that "no one told KRS to wipe his nosebleed". Once KRS lost all his friend, he felt isolated. Without anyone to defend him. Director Ma wasn't the only a**hole he had to deal with on a regular basis in the Company. Perhaps, due to his depression, KRS simply grew used to such disrespectful treatment until he accepted it as a norm. Which is really freaking sad, but I could see it happening. I really do think that transmigration snapped Cale out of a 10-year-long streak of depression and workaholism. …Well, maybe not the second part, heh.

Four, there could be complexities to his relationship with Director Ma. KRS worked over a decade in the Company, after all. Perhaps there was something in their history that made KRS unable to act against him. Blackmail, for example? I don't know what kind of blackmail would work on KRS of all people, but. Perhaps it was simply emotional blackmail. Maybe KRS felt guilty over being Team Leader, because the spot was meant to be inherited by CJS. Maybe Director Ma helped him in the past and KRS felt like he owed him. Who knows? 10 years is a long time.

Here, there's my answer. None of those reasons make Director Ma's treatment of KRS justifiable, of course. But it would explain how such a dumb person avoided getting utterly annihilated... Because we all know Cale could have done it with ease. But relationships between co-workers can be complicated, so.

...Let's all be glad OG Cale got to avenge KRS by simply being himself 😂

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[xxventiswindblumexx]

Hi there love! If you have time, could you write a Scaramouche x fem reader, where they hate each other so much, and then he fucks her till she can't speak anymore. W Dom Scara. Have a good day!

Of course! Trying to get back into writing after a long hiatus due to family and home issues!

Here's a hate fucking scara x fem reader NSFW!

Can't forget to tag my local scara simp @hitomisuzuya ❤

⚠WARNING:Hate fucking, harsh/rough love, scara being scara, breeding kink, pet kink⚠

It was late at night as the storm in Inazuma rolls, thunder strikes as the wrath of the Electro Archon could be felt in the air, even more so in the delusion factory where a certain harbinger resided. Scaramouche was appointed to watch over the factory, one of the very last things he wanted to be stuck with, maybe he should've been more.. friendly during the harbinger banquet, maybe then he couldn't gotten out of it, regardless he had a duty to uphold and another idea on his mind.

As the puppet thought he could hear the distant sound of fighting, great, the traveller Y/N arrived, how annoying. just what he needed, another annoyance, already had enough he had to work with the Doctor and Childe, now he must be rid of the traveller.

He waited for her to arrive to his domain, it was only a matter of time before she arrived and of course he would relish seeing her fall, but that's not what fate had in store for the two.

Y/N entered the room alone, she decided this was a fight even Paimon couldn't go with, a fight between her.. and the Balladeer.

"How dare you use people's lives for your profit!" she started, hand gripping her sword with nothing but vengeance for her dear friend. Scaramouche couldn't help but eat up the look, the anger, he loved it. wait.. loved it? no he can't get distracted.

"oh? did your pathetic friend die from it? must've been to weak.. like you" he laughed, only antagonizing the hero more, what he didn't expect was for her to attack already, coming at him with her sword he was able to grab her arm and deflect it, shoving her to the floor, he's much faster then her, with the power of electro he can move faster then she can blink. Once on the ground he stomped on her wrist making her drop the sword, hissing she clawed at his ankle but it was no use, he had her pinned.

His electric gaze sent shivers and strangely arousal through her as she gave him a scowl

"give up yet pest?" he hissed, arousal and anger was filling the air, "I can see you're ready to fight back and prove your worth" He continued his actions of stomping on her wrist again, "that means you have some backbone" he growled as Y/N struggled to get back into her feet

"What I have is not something I care to brag about" she said in return angerly, however when the two got close, scaramouche slamming her into the floor once more but this time holding her down with his hands, her legs on either side putting them in a situation, she could feel his hard on, something he tried to ignore, pathetic human emotions, he would say, but now its gotten him in a bind. "I wouldn't have guessed the Balladeer would get hard from this" she scowls causing his face to flush with both embarrassment and anger, but he couldn't deny the feeling, "or maybe I do know who you are, your true form" She snarls in disgust at him.

"And what might that be" he says with venom. Y/N smirks and sits herself straight up, she's getting more cocky now, and honestly it wasn't helping his already poor self control

"you're just a touch starved, horny angry man aren't you?" she remarks, snapping the last bit of restraint he had, growling he was determined to put this scum in her place

"I'll teach you to respect me, even if I have to break you over and over" he hissed beside her ear, biting harshly on her neck, his hips pushed forward causing her to gasp, a sharp moan leaving her throat as she squirmed in pleasure, she hated him and he hated her yet.. for that reason, they made each other stronger, the balladeers strength, their passion, they complemented and created each other.

Once started they knew they couldn't stop, his hands selfishly grabbing and pulling at her clothing, growls and groans filled the air as they moved around each other's bodies in a way they never thought possible. Her body was soft beneath his rough touches and gentle kisses, her breath coming in gasps and his lips on hers felt like heaven yet hell at the same time.

Once he pulled her clothing off he shoved her onto her stomach, taking control as the god he is, his cock throbbing against her wet pussy as he laughs at her submission, even if she was still struggling, he was the dominate one here, his tip flushed and leaking with precum as he pushed it against her entrance "fucking beg for me like the whore you are" he hissed, she resisted but she couldn't deny the throbbing need, weakly begging "please.. f-fuck! please just fuck me!" shamelessly begging before his thick cock slammed into her pussy, growling as his hands gripped her hips hard enough to cause his nails to scratch the skin, he thrusted hard and fast hitting her sweet spot, moaning loudly as her walls clenched around him, the feeling driving him insane. He pulled himself off from her slowly and threw away his discarded clothes, now fully naked he held her wrists above her head, assuming a new position before pressing his body onto hers, he thrusting hard and deep causing her to whimper, her pussy clenching around him as he mercilessly fucked into her, claiming her as his own.

"F-fuck! you're so damn tight, i-its like you want me to breed you don't you? " he hissed in a teasing tone, she groans as his hand tighten it's grip on her already sore wrists, his cock throbbed with need to release as she felt a knot began to tighten, causing her to cry out his name. He thrust harder until she cries with her orgasm, causing him to release his cum deep inside of her, she writhed under him, crying out in pain and pleasure as his cum filled her womb, his dick still buried within her pussy and balls.

"You're mine now little one, you belong to me and only me, " he murmured softly as she felt weak, he had almost forgotten his plan, nevertheless he had to make changes anyways, he can't just let her get in his way again.. maybe he can keep her as his pet.

[captain039]

PART 3 The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, light corruption kink, reader in her 20s, long-haired Viktor, possessive Viktor, obsessive Viktor, angst

I'm sorry it took so long for an update 🥲

Previous part <-

Dearest reader, with the city abuzz with the newest ladies heading into this year’s social season, I’d like to comment on some gracious progress from our beloved men of progress. Two men from very different lives now living in the grandest building in our lovely city, the council palace, I do wonder though if this is indeed the year a particular man of science finally permits eager mamas and eager young ladies a chance to bask in his presence? or will our lovely city simply see him as different as always and therefore make his indifference scowl on his face as always? We shall see indeed.

You’re starting to think that there may be something wrong with you. Every polite conversation you try to have with any of the suitable gentlemen ends up with them running off with a lame excuse. Your dance card remains empty and your heart slowly plummets to your stomach. By your next soirée, you don’t bother, you stand along the wall where you belong by yourself. You’re starting to realise that you’ll end up a spinster at this rate, whatever little hope you had of indeed finding a suitable gentleman as a husband is currently out the window and at the bottom of Piltover River.

Viktor is no stranger to the games of gentlemen, the way their eyes rake over a lady with such fever is disgusting, watching their hungry eyes only in the marriage mart for two things the dowry and a quick fuck to ensure heirs. You’re too good for any of the beasts that lurk in such places, you’re an easy target, innocent and lacking in confidence. He’s seen a few gentlemen approach you, he’s also seen the snickers of said gentlemen’s friends from the other side of the room thinking that approaching you is a dare and something to be funny. A few of them now have bruised eyes and busted lips, not from his hands of course. His partner though is seemingly getting on his nerves though the councilman means well he’s too insightful for his own good and has caught his act of paying someone for a beating, not his finest moment nor was the councilman’s relentless insisting that came afterwards till he snapped and hit the poor man with his cane during his explanation. Of course, Jayce took it instead, laughing at the end of it despite the bruise that would no doubt form on his leg from Viktor’s cane. They had sat in his office drinking some whiskey in silent thought before he blurted out his feelings.

“I want to dance with her” something he’s never said ever, with the countless gatherings, balls and soirées he’s been to he’s never wanted to dance.

“Really?” Jayce hadn’t laughed at him or pointed at, physically that may be impossible, his best friend simply looked at him with this smile before disappearing which was unnerving, to say the least till the man came back with a strange contraption, covered in soot and smelling of his forge.

“A brace” he says like it is obvious and Viktor frowns.

“Come on Vik, you’ve never been interested in anyone before” Jayce chuckled lying the contraption on one of his clear workbenches.

“Doesn’t mean you have to go out of your way and-“ he gestured vaguely to the brace.

“Viktor, I want to see you happy, like me and Mel,” he says and Viktor sighs. Jayce was always the more emotional one within their dynamic, basking in his marriage to the councilwoman Mel Medarda, they’re really a stunning couple, the city talked of them for months even after their marriage, and he was happy for his best friend truly, but watching the happy couple day in and day out was exhausting.

“I don’t know how to dance Jayce” Viktor admitted quietly, sure his father was ruthless in his methods he never could master dancing with his leg and back.

“I’ll teach you” Jayce grins like it’s the most natural thing for a gentleman to teach another gentleman how to dance.

“You can’t be serious” Viktor says raising an eyebrow.

“Sure I am and if you’re not comfortable with me Mel can come” Viktor sometimes swears Jayce is in his own little realm, blissfully unaware of the standards of society.

“Jayce I’m not going to practice dancing with you let alone your wife” he scoffs finishing his glass of whiskey. Jayce gets this look when he gets upset and knows that it makes Viktor’s facade crumble which is exactly what he’s doing now. Viktor glares at him but it only fuels Jayces face.

“For god's sake fine stop it” he slams his empty glass down and Jayce grins.

Viktor regrets agreeing, dancing with someone with this strange brace Jayce made is proving more difficult than he’d like it to be, and even worse Jayce has brought his wife.

“Are you quite certain you had to bring your wife?” Viktor grits his teeth as Jayce leads him through a dance.

“I can hear you both” Mel grins from her seat on one of the lavish couches eating some biscuits and tea.

“I wouldn’t expect less councilwoman” Viktor replies before she stands up and stops them both.

“As fun as it watching you both you’re as stiff as rocks” she laughs warmly moving Jayce out of the way and taking his spot. It makes Viktor tense his hand shakily lying against her waist and shoulder.

“Lady Medarda” he mutters.

“Lady Talis” she corrects grinning and he sighs with a roll of his eyes. Jayce doesn’t seem at all bothered sitting down and watching with a smile as his wife guides him through a dance. He’s still stiff in his movements but he admits it’s easier to dance with her than her husband. She has strength and grace a deadly combination hence her position as a councilwoman, but dancing is an entirely different thing, he starting to see why people do it so often, even if his movements are uncoordinated.

“You do surprisingly well for someone who can’t dance my duke” she grins and he knows damn well she’s teasing by the look in her eye.

“Very funny Lady Med- Lady Talis” he corrects himself and she laughs.

“How does the brace feel?” Jayce asks grinning as well.

“Fine” Viktor replies his pride suffering immensely, if anyone were to walk in he was sure such a thing would cause a scandal or horrid rumours amongst the wealthy members of society.

You stand along the wall, it seems a waste for such a beautiful gown to be used on someone like you. All the other ladies have now made matches and dancing elegantly on the dance floor. You try not to let it hurt, you do, but the eve creeping thoughts of never finding a husband creep in, your mother scolding you day in and day out before going to these parties.

“Is your dance card still empty?” Your mother hisses softly snatching your dance card up. You flinch at her roughness she’s not one for a public scene.

“Mama please-“ you beg silently.

“This is ridiculous i will not have my only daughter end up a spinster I’m going to find someone for you to dance with even if I have to pay them” she practically growls and it makes your heart clench. Paying someone to dance with their daughter?

“My lady” You glance to your left noticing the duke and tense a bit.

“My duke” you nod your head in respect hiding your dance card with your hand on your wrist.

“I suppose you heard all that?” You sigh a bit.

“I did” he says softly and steps closer you feel emotion bubbling up and force yourself to look away and blink the tears from your eyes.

“You don’t want to be seen with me my duke,” you say side-stepping ever slightly.

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because I’m the laugh of this city” you scoff not even bothering to hide your tone.

“We’ve only had four balls this season,” he says.

“And I’ve danced at none of them, I’ve had no callers or a simple conversation” you snap before sighing.

“Apologies my duke, I- I need some fresh air” You quickly retreat out into the garden knowing it’s highly inappropriate for a young lady like yourself to go anywhere but what’s one more flaw in your cracked appearance? You sit down and wipe your eyes with shaking hands staring at your empty dance card in disdain, you rip it off and throw it onto the grass. You almost jump when you hear someone approaching and quickly try to blend in with your surroundings, which is impossible given your light blue dress and the dark atmosphere of the garden. You see the duke and sigh a bit before realising he’s in fact walking over to you. You tense suddenly acutely aware of the situation.

“Can I sit?” He nods his head to the space beside you on the bench.

“My duke-“Before you can protest he sits down resting his cane to the side while you sit like a tense statue. You sit in uncomfortable silence despite the duke's seemingly relaxed posture.

“I would like to dance with you. Next ball” he says and you frown staring at him confused. You glance at his cane briefly not wanting to assume anything but the obvious is there. He smiles when he catches your look.

“My friend, Councilman Jayce Talis has invented a device, a brace to assist me without my cane,” he says and you blink, you knew the councilman was well endorsed you didn’t realise he was that well endorsed.

“So, next ball, will you honour me with a dance?” he asks leaning down and picking up your discarded dance card and small pencil. You don’t want to speak in case you make a fool of yourself so you nod and he smiles writing his name down on your card and handing it to you before standing up and leaving you alone in the garden with a racing heart.

Next part ->

[armyyoftwoo]

andre x cal noncon fic

ive nvr posted a fic on here before pls be kind!! idk how to do the layout im too used to ao3.anywho,,pls enjoy

“stop squirming," andre hissed through gritted teeth, his hands digging into cal's shoulders as he tried to hold him still.

andre hadnt really wanted to do this, but it felt right. it felt like the natural progression of things. as if their bond had led them to this moment, to this intimacy that only they could share. and really, what did cal expect, sneaking over to andres house in the middle of the night?

"andre. off. get off," cal said, his voice low and even. but his body was rigid, his muscles tight as he lay on the cold floor of andre's room, his friend's weight pressing down on him.

cals resistence disgusted him. how could calvin not see the love that andre saw? andre's thoughts raced as he pushed calvin down, his knees digging into the hardwood floor. cal's eyes were wide as saucers, the blond lashes fluttering. but andre knew the truth. deep down, cal knew what he was doing, the way he leaned into him, the way he had looked at him tonight. he was fucking with andre. and andre was determined to make him quit it.

his trembling hands found the button of cal's cargo pants, fumbling with the cold metal. the sound was deafening in the quiet room, a stark contrast to the rhythmic throb of their hearts. it was like he could hear cal's pulse in his ears, a wild, erratic drumming that matched his own.

the zipper was next, and andre took his time, feeling the coarse fabric of the pants as he pulled them down, inch by inch. the sound of the teeth separating seemed to echo in the stillness. cal's breaths were shallow, his eyes flickering between anger and something else, something andre didn't dare to name.

cal's skin was cold and clammy beneath andre's hands as he pushed the jeans down over his hips, the fabric sticking to cal's skin. andre could feel the tension in cal's body, the way his legs were trying to kick out, to push andre away. but andre was stronger, fueled by the intensity of his emotions, the need to claim what he felt was rightfully his.

"andre. you're scaring me." cal's voice was monotone, devoid of its usual rasp or inflection. he was still as a statue beneath andre's weight, his eyes unblinking and eerily calm.

andres heart raced as he worked to free cal from the confines of his underwear. still soft, andre was dissapointed to see. it was a strange feeling, seeing cal's nakedness so openly, feeling his skin against his own. "im sorry, cal. don't be scared," he murmured, trying to gentle his voice. but the words felt forced, a lie that even he didn't quite believe. "cmon. open your mouth," he cooed, his thumb tracing cal's bottom lip. "just let me in."

cal just glared at andre, his body trembling. andre leaned down, his eyes searching cal's, looking for any sign of acceptance, of love, of understanding. he didn't find much of anything. instead, he shoved his fingers inside cals mouth, feeling the wetness of his saliva, the heat of his breath. he pulled them out before cal could bite down, and coated in spit, brought them down between cals legs.

his heart hammered in his chest as he spread cal's legs further apart, feeling the heat radiating from his body. andre knew that cal was a virgin, that he had never been with a guy before, and that made it all the more precious, all the more right. it was perfect for them. for andre to be cals first, and cal, andres. he spat on his fingers again before pushing one inside cal's ass, watching as the muscles tightened around him.

cal's eyes squeezed shut, his body tense as andre moved his digit in and out, trying to get him used to the feeling. "just relax, cal," andre whispered, his voice thick with desire. "you're good. it won't hurt if you relax. you know you wanna."

but cal didn't relax. instead, his body coiled like a spring, and with a sudden burst of strength, he kicked andre in the stomach with a loud grunt. andre recoiled, his eyes wide with shock and pain. the wind knocked out of him, he sat back, his hand coming off cal's body.

cal sat up, and andre hesitated, but the blonde made no move to get up, his eyes flicking from andre's face to the door, and back again.

andre shot forward, his hand coming up to slam cal's head into the floor with a sickening crack. the impact reverberated through the room, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body. calvin's eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a pained yelp as his head bounced off the hard surface.

without hesitating, andre pushed himself back onto calvin, his hand snaking up to cover his mouth, muffling any sounds he might make. "shut up. my parents are upstairs sleeping. if you wake them, ill kill you."

with his other hand, he tried again to push his fingers inside, his movements more insistent now, fueled by anger and desperation. he knew calvin felt the same way, deep down. he was just lying to himself, playing innocent. calvin's eyes grew wider as he felt the intrusion, his body taut as a bowstring. but andre wasn't about to stop, after all, he was already this far in.

his hand moved in a steady rhythm, pushing and retreating, stretching cal's tight opening, his own breathing heavy and ragged. the room was filled with the sound of their harsh breaths and the quiet sound of skin on skin. cal's body was cold and shaking beneath him, his eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking.

"you're okay," andre murmured, his voice strained. "it's just me. i'm not going to hurt you. i just want to be close."

when andre deemed cal to be prepared enough, he withdrew his hand with a wet pop and reached down to free his own erection. it bobbed in the air between them, the head shiny with precum. his heart was racing, his blood pulsing through his veins, and he could feel the heat of his arousal like it was a living entity, demanding to be sated.

he pulled his hand away from cals mouth, wiping the spit on the carpet. his cock was throbbing, begging to be buried inside his best friend. "i know you want this," andre said, his voice hoarse and desperate. "i know it."

cal stared. "andre. you're not going to do this. you're going to get up and get dressed, and we're going to pretend this never happened, okay?"

that wasnt what andre wanted to hear. not even close. he grabbed a fistful of cal's shaggy white-blond hair and slammed his head down again, hard enough to make cal's teeth clack together. "stop. fighting. me."

cal's eyes rolled back in his head briefly, stars probably dancing in his vision from the impact. he gulped, swallowed a mouthful of blood that andre assumed came from biting his own tongue. he didn't know why cal was fighting it. and he didn't know why cals resistence just served to turn him on more.

his cock was rock hard, straining against his stomach, and he lined it up with cal's entrance, feeling the heat of his body, the tremble of his muscles. cal stared. his eyes looked empty, and andre would be lying if he said he didn't find it a bit offputting. but that was calvin for you, always so closed off, always so difficult to read.

andre groaned when he pushed inside of cal, feeling the tightness clench around his shaft. cal let out a muffled whine, his body jerking with the intrusion. andre's eyes rolled back in his head, the feeling was overwhelming.

the pain was written all over cal's face, his eyes watering and nose scrunched up like he was about to cry. but andre didn't stop. he couldn't. this was what they were meant to be. this was what they were meant to do. and cal knew it. he had always known it. it had all led up to this, every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every fucking thing that had ever happened between them.

as andre thrust into cal, he felt a strange mix of pleasure and anger. pleasure at the feel of cal's body around him, anger at the way cal was fighting him. but it was a good anger. it was an anger that fueled him, that made him feel alive. he hoped calvin could feel it too.

cal grunted with each thrust, his face a mask of pain, but his eyes were eerily calm. it was like he was somewhere else, somewhere far away from this room, this moment. andre watched him closely, searching for any sign that he was enjoying it, any indication that this was what he truly wanted. but all he saw was a blank stare, unsettling in its emptiness. but that was calvin. that was always fucking calvin.

so andre slammed cal's head back down again, his grip on his hair tightening until cal let out a little yelp. "act like a fucking human for once," andre hissed, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his own emotions in check. "fuck, i know you want this. you're just playing hard to get."

cal's eyes snapped back to focus on andre's face, and for a moment, there was a flash of something in them that andre couldn't quite pinpoint. anger? sadness? betrayal? but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and cal's body went limp beneath him. it was like he had given up, accepted his fate. and that just made andre want him more.

he wondered if this was what normal boys his age felt like with girls. probably not. normal boys didn’t force themselves on anyone. but andre wasn’t normal. cal knew that. and deep down, cal knew he wasn’t normal either. so maybe this was normal for them. the thought was comforting.

his hips stuttered, and he felt the warmth spurt inside cal. it was over so fast that it was almost embarrassing. he half expected cal to make some sort of snide remark, but instead, cal just lay there, unmoving, his eyes wide open.

andre pulled out and slumped beside cal, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving. the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of a cricket outside. cal's body was still trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. andre didn't know what to say, but the silence was suffocating him.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he tried to joke, but his voice cracked. the words hung in the air, unanswered. cal's eyes remained on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. andre reached out and touched his arm, feeling the goosebumps that had formed on his cold, clammy skin. "cal?"

calvin turned to look at him, his eyes clear of any emotion, his voice cold and hard. "you disgust me, andre." the words were like a slap across the face, and andre felt his cheeks burn. "you're filthy. fuckin' faggot."

the statement was like a knife to andre's gut, twisting and turning, ripping him apart from the inside out. but instead of anger, he felt a strange mix of pain and relief. finally, cal was saying what andre had always feared he thought. it was out in the open now. no more pretending.

andre sat up, his cock already softening, and put himself back in his pants. "i'll drive you home," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. like it didn't belong to him.

cal's eyes didn't leave the ceiling. "no," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "i'll stay here."

andre's heart skipped a beat. he hadn't expected that. "are you sure?"

cal nodded, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. "yes."

andre felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. on one hand, cal was staying, which meant maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t completely ruined things. on the other, the coldness in cal's voice was like a slap in the face. but he didn’t dare push it. instead, he got up and grabbed a blanket from his bed, tossing it over cal's shaking form. "are you okay?" he asked tentatively.

cal's eyes remained on the ceiling, not moving an inch. "no," he said, his voice flat. "but i'll live."

with that, calvin sat up and grabbed his pants, pulling them up with shaking hands. andre watched him, feeling a strange sense of detachment, like he was watching a scene unfold in a movie rather than living it himself. the fabric slid over cal's hips, the material cold against his skin, sticking slightly to his wet thighs. the act was jerky and mechanical, like a robot trying to mimic human movements.

cal didn't bother with his underwear, leaving it in a crumpled mess on the floor. andre noticed the blood soaking through the fabric of his pants and the way it was matting his shaggy hair, sticking it to the back of his head. the sight should have made him feel something—guilt, remorse, disgust—but all he felt was a dull ache, a gaping hole where those feelings should have been.

he watched as cal stumbled to his feet, his legs wobbly like a newborn deer's. "are you okay?" andre asked again, his voice sounding more like a stranger's than his own.

cal just looked at him, his blue eyes glazed over with something unreadable. "yeah," he said finally, his voice hollow. "i just need...i need to lie down. can we watch a movie?"

andre felt his heart drop into his stomach, but he nodded, eager to do anything to make things right. "yeah, of course. whatever you want." he jumped to his feet and grabbed the remote. "what movie?"

cal's eyes never left the floor. "scream."

usually, andre would complain about cal's choice of movies, but tonight, he didn't have the energy. instead, he just nodded and turned on the TV, scrolling through the list of available titles. when he found 'scream', he selected it and tossed the remote onto the bed.

cal walked over to the bed and sat down, his movements stiff and deliberate. andre sat beside him, leaving a respectful gap between them. the room felt like it was closing in around them, the air thick with the scent of sex and regret.

the movie started, the sound of the opening credits filling the room. calvin didn't move, his eyes staring straight ahead as the movie unfolded on the screen. andre wanted to vomit. everything was fucked up now. he had wanted this, had dreamt of it, had fantasized about it for so long, and now it was a mess. cal was acting like andre was a stranger.

fuck.