#if it weren't for the horrors it contained

[stylishpaige]

first date; paige bueckers

paring: wnba paige bueckers x fem! oc

truth be told, i didn't even like her at first.

not in a mean way. just in a "you're too used to getting your way" kinda way.

she was too good. too smooth.

paige bueckers was everything —number one draft pick, face of the dallas wings, humble but confident. she didn't even try to be the center of attention... she just was. and the girls? yeah, they fell. left and right.

every other week, someone was giggling over a blurry pic of her tying her shoes or drinking water. i didn't wanna be that girl.

especially not when i had to professionally interview her three times a week.

so when she kept asking me out, i said no.

three times.

and i meant it.

but then she started doing these little things during interviews.

maybe it was the way she held eye contact, or the comments she dropped that weren't exactly inappropriate but still made my face get warm.

of course the fans noticed it too.

then it was a bouquet of flowers dropped off at media day with a note that just said: "still not giving up."

and the worst part?

i smiled when i saw it.

so eventually... i said yes.

just one date.

to prove i was right about her.

right?

⸻

"keep 'em closed," she said for the third time, her hands gently covering my eyes from behind.

"paige, if i trip over something, i'm suing."

she laughed. "you're not gonna trip. i got you."

"that's what all the people in horror movies say right before—"

"ma," she interrupted, voice low near my ear. "trust me."

ma?

the walk was slow — mostly grass and a narrow trail. her arm was around my waist, guiding me carefully. i could hear her sneakers crunching gravel every few steps. and when the breeze shifted, i could smell water. feel the air change

finally, she stopped.

"okay," she whispered. "ready?"

i nodded, barely.

her hands dropped from my eyes.

i blinked once.

then again.

in front of me was a quiet lake, glowing under strung-up lights hanging from the tree branches. a blanket was spread out near the edge, pillows piled up on one side, a little speaker and a cooler beside it. takeout containers neatly packed into a basket. the whole place looked... magical.

"paige..." i whispered. "you.. you did this?

paige scratched the back of her neck, a little sheepish now. "yeah. i mean... i had help carryin' the cooler but—yeah."

i just stared.

"say something," she said. "unless it's bad. then lie."

"no," i said, voice softer than i meant it to be. "no, it's... perfect."

her smile grew.

"come on," she said, holding out her hand. "before the fries get cold."

i hesitated.

she raised an eyebrow, teasing. "you scared?"

i narrowed my eyes. "of you? please."

i slid my hand into hers.

"you brought fries?" i asked, pretending to sound skeptical.

"ma," she grinned. "you think i was gonna bring you all the way out here and not bring fries? you don't even know me yet."

i smiled.

⸻

"how'd you find out about this place?" i asked, wiping my fingers on a napkin, legs crossed beneath me on the blanket.

we were done eating. mostly. there were still a few fries left, some fruit in a bowl between us. the lake was still. the sky above was starting to turn that deep kind of blue that comes before night fully hits. the music was soft, old r&b humming through the speaker like background to a movie.

she glanced over, chewing. then smiled like she'd been waiting for the question the whole time.

"kk."

i raised an eyebrow. "kk?"

"mhm," she nodded. "i told her i was tryna do something different for you — make it special. she told me this was, like, your dream first date."

"you asked kk about my dream date?"

"nah." she grinned. "i interrogated her. respectfully."

i rolled my eyes, cheeks warm.

she leaned back on her elbows, looking out over the water like she had all the time in the world.

"so what about you?" she asked after a moment. "like... what was growing up like for you? you got siblings?"

"yeah," i said quietly. "two younger brothers on my mom's side and a sister on my dad's."

"oh damn," she said, sitting up a little. "older or younger?"

"younger," i nodded. "i don't really know her though. never even met her. i'm not really close with my dad"

she didn't say anything right away. just nodded slowly, like she wasn't trying to force it, just letting me talk if i wanted to.

"you ever want to meet her?" she asked gently.

i shrugged, eyes still on the lake. "sometimes. but it's weird. feels like... i'm a stranger to a whole side of my own life. 'cause my parents aren't close. and neither am i. not really close with either of them."

there was a pause.

"that doesn't make you any less," she added after a second. "like... not having that picture-perfect family? it doesn't mean you don't deserve love. or stability. or people that actually show up for you."

"yeah."

"what about you?" i asked, glancing at her. "what was growing up like for you?"

"honestly?" she said, shrugging a little. "it was good. i mean, not perfect, but good. my mom... she's solid. always kept me grounded, always showed up. my dad and i? it's complicated. after my parents split, i ended up living with my dad for a while. it was... different. he's a good guy, but it was a big change — new house, new school, new rules. kinda had to figure things out on my own a lot."

she shrugged, like it was just part of life.

"but my little brother, drew? man, he's my heart. we're tight. and my sister, lauren — she's my mini me."

i smiled. "that's nice"

the rest of the night kind of flew by — like we were two people who'd been given all the time in the world to really see each other. paige had this way of listening that made me feel like i was the only person in the world.

we talked about everything and nothing — dreams we had, fears we kept quiet, the little things that made us who we were.

she told me about her first ACL injury, the one that caught her off guard. i shared about the time i first started driving and ran over a trash can.

and for the first time, maybe i was wrong about her.

maybe she wasn't just the girl with the charm and the spotlight always finding her. maybe she was something softer. something real. someone who listened, who remembered little things.

and maybe — just maybe — i wanted her to keep proving me wrong.

[radarchives]

[creatively-cosmic]

Perhaps in another lifetime, things could have been different.

[kukinkrim]

the exception

saja boys x manager!fem!reader

theme: love (?), fights, unfinished.

notes: can be interpretrd as platonic love/familial love, contains spoilers from the movie. might make a part 2 if this gets enough love lol

part 2.

"shit," jinu hears someone whisper from beside him and he was sure it was abby. the rest of their chants stopped abruptly, the other three turned sharply, catching the edge of abby's panic. "of course, she's fucking here."

there was something about abby's fear-stricken expression that made them hesitate. afraid, perhaps, of what it meant for their usually easy-going fellow demon to be the complete opposite. tense. panicking, maybe. perhaps, even afraid.

"who?" it was mystery who asked quietly, scanning the crowd to see what caused his fellow demons to react. it wasn't long before his eyes sees her too and he swore his heart froze at the sight as fear washed over him in waves. what abby felt at the moment was clear as day to him; as if he and abby had one heart, beating so fast in anxiety it would explode at any moment.

"why is she here?" baby managed to ask, barely a whisper but they all hear it anyway. he could feel anger clawing at his chest. red, hot, and searing. "she isn't supposed to be here!" if not for romance's hand on his shoulder, he would have stomped his way over and dragged her somewhere far away—yell, probably, at her stupid face for being here when she wasn't supposed to be.

a paid leave.

after that horror show of a stage where the nation's top girl group publicly broke up, the saja boys were, of course, automatically crowned the winner. despite all the depressing things that happened a dew hours ago, they were happy enough to give their manager a much deserved paid leave for the day. 'you deserve a break, manager-nim!' they exclaimed, enthusiastic, as if they weren't planning the demise of the entire country just a few hours later.

she wasn't supposed to be here. she's supposed to be at home, in her pajamas, holding a bucket of ice cream and binge watching her brainrots all night long. at the safety of her home three hours away from here. not here, not in this last concert.

but she's here, and she's walking unknowingly towards her own eternal damnation. too close to the stage than they would have liked.

just because she loved them too much, grown too fond, always the supportive one behind the scenes. she came because she wanted to watch them shine, yet—"she's going to fucking die."

romance doesn't flinch at the glare that baby sent him, even when he aggressively shook his shoulder to get his hand off his skin. baby was anything but scary—the fire behind them, however, is another story.

while he doesn't care if gwi-ma punished them for straying too far from their mission. if they became too close with a mortal than they were supposed to. he can take a decade more of suffering and he's sure the other four too, as they are stronger than they seem.

gwi-ma could lash him with fire, chain his soul in eternal hell, tear open his memories and make him relive the worst of them on repeat.

he could survive it.

they would.

but she's human. their manager. she's soft and too good for the world. if gwi-ma can no longer hurt them, the leash on their necks becoming too lose, then he'll find other ways. and he's no doubt not above using other people to get what he wants.

he could feel the purple tattoos on his skin pulse. searing, burning his skin as it glows underneath his robes. a warning. gwi-ma is noticing the hesitation, sensing the doubts that's been planted in their heads. he's sure the others could feel it too.

continue, gwi-ma whispered to their ears. if you value your lives, continue.

feed me.

sing.

but their hesitance was all what gwi-ma needed to grumble in fury. he roars, angry, and all five demons crouched down to cover their ears at the sheer intensity and volume of their king. terrifying. his flames licked barely at the skin and it already felt like they were melting. their tattoos glowed purple, leaving pain in its wake.

gwi-ma was angry.

"no–" mystery mutters as he holds his arms in a poor attrmpt of self-comfort, but his attention was somewhere else. in the center of arena was a portal, like a throbbing wound in the shape of a god’s hunger, an extension of gwi-ma's body as the honmoon tore. "no no no!–" his outburst dragged the rest of them out of their stunned daze, and they watched in horror.

hundreds of demons were crawling out of the portal—feral, fang-ridden, spine-bent monsters from the deepest pit of their world.

and more were still coming. thousands. maybe worse.

and they're all headed towards you.

it was jinu who was the first to move.

it was like he was flying. his entire body launching toward you, fueled by nothing but pure instinct and that shattering sense of knowing he'd never forgive himself if somethimg had happened to you right infront of him.

he collided with you just as one of the creatures came too close, claws raised.

his arms wrapped around you, tight and trembling, and then you were both hurtling through the crowd, crashing into stunned, half-conscious bodies, rolling until your momentum died in the chaos.

jinu was shaking. pain shot through his shoulder. his whole body was screaming as his tattoo pulsed once more, warning him of his mission. it burns it burns it burns—

but you were still in his arms. alive.

"you're safe," he whispers as he shields you with his body. it didn't matter if you couldn't hear him in your state, still brainwashed under their song. all that mattered was you were and will be kept safe from harm.

behind him, footsteps followed.

guttural screeches. the sound of claws tearing through flesh. adisgusting gurgling, like the demons were choking on their own corrupted blood, and then ash.

surrounding him was the four demons he's grown close to. their fangs bared, eyes burning with need to protect. their tattoos, like his, were flaring like war paint but the pain didn't matter.

all eyes were on you; their manager.

[honeyluvender]

୨୧ You Tell The LADS LI They Can’t Shower With You ୨୧

ꔫ Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but 95% fluff! ꔫ Requests: Open (feel free to DM if you have questions!)

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿ ♡ Xavier

Showering with Xavier was always a highlight to your day. The perfect way to wind down in your opinion. Both your bodies would be aching from being out in the field and nothing was more relaxing then leaning back against your partner and lover as he ran washed your hair.

Though you'd seen videos circulating of girls turning on the shower and telling their boyfriends they wished to shower alone. Thus, you decided to give it a try.

You waited till the weekend to strike. A time you were both ready to do nothing more than shower, eat some take out and binge some cringy movies until you fell asleep. Your robe was tied loosely around your waist, clothes discarded into the laundry hamper and your plan ready for action.

This weekend Xavier would be staying in your apartment. He was currently finishing up ordering the take out you had requested, none the wiser to what was going through your devious mind. Once you heard his soft voice tell the restaurant goodbye, and call out to you that they'd be there in thirty minutes, did you strike.

It was amusing how quickly you heard soft footsteps speeding down the hallway at the simple gesture of turning the shower on. You'd placed your hand inside the water, feeling for the perfect temperature. It wouldn't surprise you if he teleported the rest of the way into your bathroom, because by the time you turned around his pants were already around his ankles and he was working on his shirt.

"What are you doing?" You'd asked innocently, peering over your shoulder.

Xavier blinked, startled by the question. "About to join you for a shower, as usual." He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it definitely was.

You gave a sweet pout, walking over to your boyfriend and gently cradling his face. "Awww, bunny, that's sweet. But, I'm wanting to take a shower by myself tonight," You chirped, slowly pushing him back towards the door and closing it on him. You bit at your bottom lip trying to contain your giggles.

However, as soon as you turned around, you collided with a hard chest. Xavier stared at you with the most innocent puppy dog eyes. Well, as innocent as they could get when they were narrowed with a hidden darkness behind them.

"Did I do something?" He'd asked, hands reaching out to grab at your hips.

The way your body trembled at his touch did not go unnoticed by him. Such a simple bodily reaction had given you away.

"We had a rough day in the field," Xavier whispered, slipping his hands towards the front of your robe and pulling at the pathetic knot keeping it together. "I think I need to check every last inch of you, just to make sure you didn't get hurt anywhere." His voice was like honey, smooth and sweet. Just like he was as he slid down your body, dropping to his knee's.

You released a whimper as his warm breath kissed you where you needed him the most.

"I think we need to have a long, thorough inspection of each other."

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

♡ Rafayel

Refusing to let Rafayel join you for a bath was like taking his breath away. Kicking him in the gut. Telling him you were breaking up with him and spitting in his face.

And no, you weren't being dramatic, because you were staring at your boyfriend as he peered at you in absolute horror, having just said those things to you.

"May I ask what has caused this sudden hatred, cutie?" He'd asked, hand upon his chest in hurt.

What was meant to be a silly prank may honestly lead you to wanting to take a long relaxing bath alone. "I don't hate you Rafayel, it's just you have such a big bath tub and I was to experience it by myself for once." You insisted.

Honestly, it wasn't a lie. The artist had so many delicious smelling shampoos and body scrubs, you were giddy to go in and try them all inside the large tub. You were already planning the ultimate bubble bath.

"So, what I'm hearing is and correct me if I'm wrong, you want to take a bath by yourself," Rafayel stated.

You smiled and gave a quick nod of a confirmation.

"Okay, so that mean's you don't want me in the bath with you," He continued as if connecting the dots.

"Yes my love, that would be correct." You agreed.

Silently, you watched as your lover crossed his arms and began to nod in understanding. Almost as if he was finally coming to term with what you said.

"So, what I've come to understand, is that you now despise me," The sigh he released was dramatic. Hand back upon his chest, gripping over his shirt where his heart lied.

You stared at the scene happening before you, before releasing a tired sigh. "Fine, you can come in. But, I want to soak by myself for the first ten minutes." You insisted.

Rafayel visibly perked up at your words, following after you and insisting he'd give you all the time in the world to rest and relax.

He was in the tub with you in less than five minutes.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

♡ Zayne

Honestly, you felt a little bad for what you were about to do. Tara had been showing you some of the latest couple trends at work on her phone. And sadly, one that had caught your attention was telling your partner you didn't want them to shower with you.

You knew Zayne's days were always long at the hospital, but to see how he would react was all too tempting. Thus, once he texted you that he was on his way home did you finally start getting things ready.

Laying out comfortable pajamas, choosing your favorite body wash and lotion, and making sure you got in the shower as soon as you heard him come through the door. You could hear him faintly call out your name as he made his way further into the house. Sadly, you barely caught his voice over the sound of the water beating against you. However, you called out to him, letting him know where you were at.

He seemed to stop for a moment due to the sound of running water, before slowly starting his way towards his conjoined bathroom.

A gentle knock on the door let you know he had officially made it.

"May I enter please, love?" He called out, voice laced with exhaustion.

Your heart ached at the sound. Truly, you wanted nothing more than for him to join you so the two of you could wash away your rough days together. However, you barely remained strong.

"Sure thing!" You responded.

Within seconds the door was opening and from detail of his foggy silhouette could already tell he was beginning to unbutton his shirt. "It wouldn't be an intrusion if I were to join you would it?" Zayne asked, ever the gentleman.

You bit back the smile that threatened to give you away, forcing the giggle down that bubbled inside you.

However, with ease you rejected him, "Actually, I was kind of wanting to take a shower by myself. You know, rough day."

The silence within the bathroom was deafening. Almost leaving you to believe he had caved to your wishes and left. Curiously, you pulled the glass door away to peer out.

There stood Zayne in all his glory. Shirt unbuttoned, pants half unzipped revealing the delicious lines that led straight to what was hidden within said pants. You anxiously bit your bottom lip at the sight.

However, your eyes quickly shifted back to the person before you. The exhaustion on his face was evident. Though he seemed shocked, there was also understanding.

"Understood, please take as much time as you need, I'll wait on the shower. Is there anything specific you want for dinner? I can prepare something while you finish up." He offered, preparing to zip his pants back up.

Your heart lurched.

"No, Zayne, I was kidding! I want you to join me in the shower," Your plea caused the doctor to halt. Once he turned back towards you, his eyes gave the silent question, asking if you were sure about this decision.

You smiled at his gentleness, stepping out of the shower and reaching over to help unbutton his clothes. In no time his clothes was on the floor, and his body pressed against yours as you ran shampoo through his hair.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

♡ Sylus

You should've known better. Sylus is a brilliant man, who can sniff out a scheme better than a bloodhound. Be it from enemies or by you and the twins, he knew the outcome of your plans before any of you did.

So you have no clue why you thought this would be any different.

It had been a couple weeks since the two of you had last saw the other in person. During those restless weeks you continuously texted, called, and may or may not had a spicy video call or two.

Anyways, once your schedules finally managed to even out, Sylus had been insistent on taking you on a romantic evening out. On one hand, you had expected a romantic dinner and private time together. On the other, you had not expected for him to take you to one of his private homes that barely had any cell service to give you just that.

However, with the delicious food he had prepared and the soft music playing in the background, you almost caved to just crawl into the mans lap and make up for lost time.

But you must stay strong!

Instead you picked up your plates, insisting you prepare for bed. He seemed a bit surprised by your eagerness, but quickly his eyes softened. He smirked as you grabbed for his wine glass. Instead of handing it over, he stood, taking the plates from your hands as he did so.

"How about you head upstairs and I'll handle the dishes, kitten?" His voice was smooth as usual, and the wine in your system wasn't helping matters either.

Instead of arguing, you quickly turned and headed towards your shared bathroom.

The time you had was limited. Quickly, you began lighting candles, bringing out your most expensive products and pulled up the romantic playlist you had put together on your phone. By the time you were adding some bubble bath to the warm water, Sylus had knocked on the door.

"May I enter, kitten?" He asked, waiting for your confirmation before proceeding forward.

You called out to him, and within seconds he was behind you.

He raised a brow, smirking at the bubbling tub. "What's this? Have you gotten into potion making?" Sylus joked, earning a playful eyeroll from you.

Cool and collected, you turned in his embrace, trying your best to give an innocent smile. "I'm just wanting to take a bubble bath before bed, have a bit of time to myself before bed," You'd lied.

Though you had expected to get some form of reaction out of him, be it quite small, you had not expected him to give a nod of understanding.

"I see, if that's what you wish then so be it. But, just know," He purred, one of his hands sliding from your waist to the back of your neck. He massaged your lower neck, working out the tension that work had caused. Not only was tension being released, but soft moans from your lips. "I'm here if you need me. And I really think you may need some special attention right now."

His words had you biting your lip and pressing your thighs together. In no time were your clothes on the floor, and half the water from the tub joining them.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

♡ Caleb

Caleb knew you like the back of his hand. Always paid close attention to you, ever since you were young and even as you had entered adulthood. So maybe this wasn't exactly the best prank to play on him. Knowing Caleb, he's going to find a way around one way or another.

It also didn't help that ever since you had become a couple the two of you were nearly inseparable.

Out in public? His hands were somewhere on you. Be it your lower back or his hand in yours.

At home? You were always lounging on each other, Calebs hands carding through your hair or massaging your aching feet as you watch some type of awful reality TV show.

Even in bed the two of you were never separated. Any pillow that threatened to find its way between the two of you would be found on the floor the next morning.

So maybe you shouldn't be surprised by his stubbornness to leave the bathroom.

"Are you sure you want me gone? I thought you said I do good washing your back!" His voice was filled with shock and concern. His body refusing to move as you push against the wall of muscle trying to push him out.

You puffed out your cheeks in irritation. What had been the idea of a simple prank, was instead leaving you wish your genuinely wanting your boyfriend out of the bathroom by this point. Not because he had done anything in particular.

The begging and whining had been expected, but not even being able to move his body out the door had not.

"Are you using your evol right now?!" You growled, shoving your weight against the colonel.

Caleb laugh, "Nope, your just not as strong as you think pipsqueak." He reached up, ruffling your hair that had been neatly tucked away.

"You should know my strength by now, you got a taste of it last night," He mused, watching as you tensed at the thought of last nights intimacy. "If you don't believe me, I'd be more than happy to give you a show as proof."

Anxiously, you watched as his hands reached for the bottom of his shirt. And quickly, you shoved him out the door and slammed it close. "I knew you were using your evol!" You growled, twisting the lock into place.

Instead of banging on the door, you had simply heard Caleb laugh on the other side in amusement. Deciding to actually take a nice and relaxing bath, you began to peel your robe off your shoulders.

"Come on pips, be a good girl and open the door for me," Your boyfriend purred on the other side of the door. "I know you've had a rough week and just need to be taken care of."

His words were clearly laced with a promise of more than just a relaxing bath if you were to let him in. You began to chew at your bottom lip as your felt heat begin to pool between your thighs.

As he continued to whisper sweet words behind the door, after a few minutes did you finally cave.

"That's my girl." Caleb whispered, happily lifting you from your spot in the bathroom and kicking the door closed behind him.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡ I hope you enjoyed reading! I've been a fan of LADS for a long while and have decided to finally get into writing for it! Remember, notes and hearts help encourage me to push forward into writing more with my busy schedule! I hope you all have a wonderful day! ♡

♡ Social media:

Twitter: honeyluvender <- see LADS posts and fic updates here! I’m the most active on twitter and tumblr.

Archieveofourown: honeyluvender

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

LOSS OF MY LIFE

formula one x horror actor!reader

request: I'm hoping this is thw right way to ask for requests but we live and learn ig. Anyway what about how the drivers would react to reader being in some sort of horror film and they end up dying?

summary: your boyfriend reacts to your death in a movie.

warnings: mild descriptions of death and gore, swearing, i think that's it?

contains: charles leclerc, gabriel bortoleto, + ollie bearman

word count: 552

charles leclerc:

he had been so incredibly excited to see your movie. you had warned him several dozen times that it was a horror movie and not a tame one. he didn't listen, of course, and decided it was a better idea to watch it when he was alone. at night. in a hotel room he was not familiar with.

… needless to say, you weren't exactly surprised when you woke up to your phone ringing. even less surprising was hearing charles sniffling and begging you to get a flight out because he's just seen you die a very gruesome death in the movie and now he desperately needs cuddles. he's definitely got a collection of stuffed animals he uses when he needs comfort but you're not available, and his favourite is a floppy bunny. charles is holding onto that bunny like his life depends on it after watching your movie.

you end up having to call one of the other drivers and ask them to keep him company until you get there. when you do, expect to be within arm's reach of your boyfriend at all times.

gabriel bortoleto:

he's actually kind of offended that the writers had the audacity to kill you off. the second he realizes what's about to happen he'll start angrily ranting about "how dare they!!" and all that.

then he sees you covered in the (fake) blood and you're so clearly pissed off even though you're dying and he just … slowly … trails off … until he's just staring at the screen. he doesn't even respond when you poke his arm to see if he's okay. all that's going through his head is holy fuck you look hot when you're angry and covered in blood—

it takes you a little while to realise what's actually going on, and you gotta just kinda keep poking and teasing him until he breaks out of it. let's just say if you wanna go all out for halloween there … gabi's definitely on board.

ollie bearman:

i actually think he really likes horror movies even though they give him nightmares? ollie loves them and finds them so interesting and even though he's so tense the whole time he just … he loves them! so when he finds out that you're gonna be in a horror movie?

he is so excited.

ollie makes a whole night of it. he'll order food from your favourite restaurant, set up a lil blanket fort for the two of you, make sure you know that he'll be extra jumpy that night, and then get your movie set up on his laptop. he can't watch horror movies on big screen because the detail makes it too scary for him. so you'll just have to get used to watching things on a laptop screen, sorry.

finally he gets to cuddle up to you and he's so excited to watch your movie!! he gets most of the way through before your character gets killed off and ollie … he just shuts his computer immediately.

the whole rest of the night is just spent assuring your boyfriend that you're fine, you're not upset about your character's ending, and also that yes, all of the actual horror bits in the movie were fake. then—and only then—will he start talking about the actual quality of the movie and praising your acting.

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: please note that i am a wimp who can't watch horror for the life of me 😅

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[gremlingottoosilly]

Eldritch Horror! Konig with a Witch! Reader who accidentally summoned him and now has no idea how to get rid of the large shadow monster desperate to mate.

You needed a familiar. A bat, or, maybe, a cute black cat that would drag your ingredients from the top shelve and deliver mail. You needed some company, something cute and weak - and you prepared for the ritual, cut a bit of your arm to get the blood out, put some of the tea leaves in the cauldron, waiting for the creature summoned. The book you used for the incantation was just a tad bit weird and old, but almost all witch books are - it's not like you have a lot of options here, unfortunately.

The cauldron went into smoke, then - into boiling. You thought it was a good sign, the magic slowly activating as your powers drained to call for someone cute, someone magical and obedient, someone... There is a tentacle poking out of the cauldron. An octopus familiar, huh...you weren't too disappointed, but it wasn't ideal, either. Maybe if could turn the tentacles in a pretty pink color, or if you could exchange it for something fluffy and adorable or- It's a man. Well, sort off. It's a man, and it sets off your alarms - literally and figuratively. Human-like familiars are almost all demons, and demons as familiar is bad news. You aren't even remotely strong enough to contain someone as strong as him, and with the energy that envelops him as he slowly moves out o the cauldron, too small for his tall, muscular and dangerously beautiful body, you know you're fucked. It's safe to say that you're familiar now. With Konig not being bond by a summoning ritual - he is far too strong for that - you think that the only reason he didn't kill you, a dumb and arrogant witch trying to contain him - is only because he latched on you as his personal breeder. He mated you, the first thing he did after pushing you onto your bed and taking you raw, like the helpless thing you are, and then softly spoke some words in a dead, eldritch language that you don't understand. Then he mated you again and again until you felt nothing but throbbing between your legs and pumps of pleasure as the eggs slowly filled your womb. He brought you some food after - you think it's his way of caring for his mate. He also called you a dumb, arrogant and weak thing, and then something in his language again, that was probably yet another insult.

[alwayzadorbs]

Obey me! Headcanons

Summary: Headcanons of things that weren't addressed/were rushed through or things from the game I wish were in there. Also includes headcanons I created or enjoyed from other authors.

Rating: horror, hurt, comfort, mature

Warnings: This fic contains spoilers for the entire original Obey me! campaign, one mention of Nightbringer. This fic is SFW but contains violence. Cryptids are mentioned and gone in depth aboout

It takes all seven packs to regain your human form, residing in your sheep form until you make the last pack with Lucifer. We all know that Mc only wears a little tie in their sheep form, so it's debatable that they'll be wearing clothing when they regain their humanity.

mc either has a curse or a divine blessing(you get to choose, yay!) due to their ancestry. This decides your overall luck and life path; to be cursed is to suffer, and to be blessed is to suffer. Both paths will lead you to the same outcome. Your actions in the human world decide your fate, though you won't ever make it to heaven. Your ties to the underworld will always land you in hell; God is not a fair being. Humans are inherently sinful beings; This, of course, is because Eve ate the apple.

The ring of light is burned into your skin; it must permanently stay attached to you to hold your power back from disrupting the three realms; if it comes off, the hole ripped in the universe will only continue to grow.

You have physical marks to show your pact, and the area they reside in is decided upon by the demon you've made a pact with. When you feel the effects of a sin, such as pride upon praise, the pact mark will begin to burn or ache. Depending on the location and which demon the pact belongs to, the pain will be different. ranging from a sharp stabbing pain to the feeling of somebody cutting across your skin with a rusted blade. in addition to that, when you are wrapped up in sin, the brother who it belongs to will know that you are feeling their sin.

You would be immediately suspicious of Belphie when meeting him in the attic. He clearly is no human, and Lucifer's behavior around the door contributed to your suspicions. You were wary over the situation in the attic, unsure if Belphegor genuinely was a human. Discovering the photo of Belphie with Beel, you thought about leaving him in the attic, but after seeing how his absence affected Beel, you resolved to reconnect them.

Mc has trouble ingesting the Demonic foods served to them, often feeling sick after eating or being afflicted with food poisoning.

About lesson 16, it would've taken much more time for MC to get acquainted with Belphie and even more to genuinely feel safe alone with him. Mc fully understands Belphie's actions and the reasons behind the attack, but that doesn't stop them from feeling afraid of Belphie. Mc would have nightmares for quite a while, the hatred he had for them ingraved in their mind.

Mc probably gets made fun of or ridiculed to an extent by outsider demons, detested for being a human, or the center of a jealous tangent. During your first few weeks at RAD, you would be unable to escape the whispers and eyes behind your back.

Devildom days are much longer than human world days, spanning to about 48 hours. At first, you can hardly find a way to function, barely staying awake in class and passing out on the couch after school. You'd drink energy drinks and hellish coffee to boost your performance, but every day, you'd drop your bookbag and fall face-first onto the couch.

The weather is quite extreme down below. The devildom is separate from the seven rings of hell, where hellfire burns brightly. In the Devildom it's actually quite cold, hence the need for multiple layers.

Mcs memory was lost apon travelling to the Devildom, later when they regain their memories through a painstakingly long year their personality undergoes a change.

The brothers are pretty clueless about human biology, being unsure if a bloody nose will kill MC. They could kill you if they were just rough enough, so it makes sense why they see you as more delicate than you actually are. To the boys, you're just a little lamb that needs a shepherd. The bare reality is that you are a very capable sorcerer; you can defend yourself in a situation where you're attacked by a demon or even a human.

Throughout the entire campaign, Solomon has been teaching you magic. By the end of the school year, when you're supposed to return to the human realm, you have amassed quite the power as well as the skill of utilizing that power. You can summon the boys, draw out their power to use as your own, summon magical weapons, cast spells, inflict blessings and curses, summon and cast without chanting, and use magic in other ways.

The brothers are well-versed in Devildom and celestial history but are fairly uneducated about human history and achievements. They're often surprised when you speak of major historical events in the human world. When they learned of the bible, they were extremely curious of human interpretation. They would say humans "got it wrong" when referring to some events, laughing at some of the mistranslations.

Cryptids and folklore monsters typically exist, having passage from the Devildom directly into the human world. Some cyptids are lost in stories, their figures being misconstrewed or evolved over the years of a retold story. These beasts are often different than how they were depicted in human media; for example, wendigos are not some lanky creature with a deer skull, that is fiction. Wendigos are the manifestation of a loss of humanity. Native Americans more accurately depict the creature as an emaciated corpse-like monster. It bears sucken eyes, its ribs protrude, it seems to be human but behaves exclusively like an animal, and their skin takes on a frost-bitten state. Wendigos are creatures that were once human, tainted by their hunger for survival, the cause of this state is the devouring of human flesh. Many other cryptids, such as wolfmen or humanoid creatures, are a reality for denizens.

After they've gone back to the human realm, Mc is stalked by multiple demonic entities. A human being in hell is unheard of, especially if they're still alive, which creates a large target on your back. Your life as you know it will never be the same,

Authors note; if you wish to see any of these topics in a full fledged fic or in more depth, let me know.

[spiderb00bs]

- Lying To Me, Lying To You

Tara Carpenter x reader  (request)

"Tara has lied to herself her whole life, and she thinks it's time for it to end” 

Genre – fluff, angst and Smut at the end          

Warnings – smut, and bit of internalized homophobia? 

Now playing – Lied To, by Zayn 

Tara Carpenter hadn't known you in a long time, not so much when she knew her sister, or her friends, or her boyfriend. Tara had known you for six months, six months fucked up with confusion and questioning. Young Carpenter didn't want to, she didn't want to be weird when you were around, saying weird trivia about horror movies to you, just because she couldn't sit still around you. She didn't want to watch every moment of you like a fucking crazy woman, not being able to take her eyes off you when you did the smallest things. And she definitely didn't want to walk away from Chad every time he got close to her. 

Chad was a good boy, he was kind, funny sometimes and he was very good at sports, he was everything a girl would want, right?! He also sided with Tara when all that Ghostface craziness happened. He was a nice guy. So why couldn't Tara love him like she should?

Tara's head was spinning, she was in the corner of the room, having already had more drinks than she could remember, and from that corner, she had the most beautiful view of the whole party, you. Talking to your other friends, you had a plastic cup in your hand. You wore baggy black jeans, and a shirt that fits your body well, Tara is sure she has seen many other people like this, but none of them had ever been as perfect as you. 

Tara wasn't alone, but she had run away from Chad an hour ago, trying to find a way to get away from the boy without hurting him. Tara felt bad, she felt like all the tears she'd held back since she met you were about to overflow. Tara wanted to cry, kick, scream at everyone, her body ached without your touch, and her eyes watered when she remembered all the minutes she couldn't be around you.    Tara wasn't confused, she never was. The denial, everything she convinced herself to live were just consequences of a fear that she had deep in her chest. She knew that what she felt for Amber – Before all the events – were not things that a straight girl felt for her best friend, she had lied practically her entire life. 

But with you, she couldn't contain herself, she was stronger than anything, even Amber. Tara wanted to die every time she saw you walk by, she wanted to die whenever she had to sit next to Chad when you and the rest of her friends hang out together. She wanted to be sitting next to you, she wanted to hold your hand, smell you, hear your laughter, she wanted to be with you.    The taste in Tara's mouth was bitter, and she couldn't really tell if it was because of the cheap drink she had, or because she wasn't in your arms, laughing at whatever stupid thing you were saying to your friends, and being introduced to them as your girlfriend. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Tara saw Chad, probably looking for her in the crowd. Being quick, Tara hurried her steps towards the kitchen, looking back to make sure Chad hadn't seen her, Tara bumped into someone, losing her balance and closing her eyes when she was sure she was going to fall to the floor. When she felt a hand holding her by the waist, Tara was relieved, but not as much as she was when she saw your face.    "YN!" Young Carpenter screamed, hugging you by the shoulders, and with that alone, you could tell she was drunk as fuck. "I was thinking of you."    "I hope good stuff." You said laughing. Tara had this power with you, to make you laugh even when you were anxious, or afraid, in which case, you were worried. "Where are the people? Or Chad?" You asked, looking around. 

"I don't know, I just wanted to be alone for a while." Tara said, if you weren't so worried, you sure would have noticed the way the woman was looking at you.    Tara's eyes sparkled, looking up, watching your entire face carefully and gently, as if you were the eighth wonder of the world, as if you would disappear if she took her eyes off you.    "Well, that's kind of impossible at a party." You said, laughing a little, but stopping when you saw Tara's gaze at you. "Hey, are you okay?"    The genuine concern in your voice made Tara melt, oh man, how much she wanted you so much. Every fiber of her body longed for you, and she was slowly starting to realize how stupid she was for neglecting herself for so long.    "Yes..." 

You didn't trust Tara's answer, something seemed wrong, almost as if she wanted to say something more. Her eyes were bright, but now, they looked more like accumulated tears.    "I think I'd better take you home, you've had too much to drink, Tara." with a nod, Tara followed you to your car, parked in front of the noisy house. She would go to the end of the world if it meant going with you.    In the car, Tara was a little thoughtful, she ran away from a party, ran away from her boyfriend, just to go home with you. She didn't think about anything, she just thought about what she wanted to do at that moment. Looking out the car window, Tara thought of all the possibilities that this night could end in, she could kiss you, she could get out of the car, say goodbye to you and never make contact with you again, until she and Chad got married and she lived a mediocre life with him. But once again, she would be lying to herself. 

You respected Tara's space, but in your head, you were freaking out too. You were with the girl you had a crush on since the day you saw her. You knew Tara was dating, you knew wishing to be with her was wrong, you knew she was straight, and you felt terrible about it.    The drive to Tara's apartment was quiet, thoughtful, and a little awkward, and accompanying Tara to her floor was even worse. Tara was still a little giddy from all the drinks she had, so you were constantly making sure she didn't miss the steps.    "All right, do you have your keys?" You asked, taking the key from Tara's hand as she handed it to you.    Opening the door, you waited for Tara to come in first, closing the door and going to the youngest of the Carpenters, who had thrown herself on the couch. 

“No, no, no. You have to go to your room, if Sam finds out I dumped you here she'll kill me.” You said, trying to pull the girl off the sofa.   

As you tried to pull Tara off the sofa, you were surprised when the short girl used more force and pulled you, making you fall on top of her on the sofa.   

“Tara!” You said, seeing the girl laugh, and unable to resist, you laughed along with Tara.   

“You didn't expect that, did you?” Tara said, still laughing.  

When the laughter started to die down, you realized how close you and Tara were, your breaths mingling and making the whole atmosphere more intense. You knew you should walk away, but Tara didn't have the same thought.   

Tara wanted you. She was tired of not getting what she wanted, she was tired of always putting herself second, neglecting what she really wanted. No, Tara wanted to end it, and as much as she hated hurting Chad, she knows she'll hate hiding it for longer. Then, when you least expected it, Tara's lips were glued to yours.   

 You were surprised, you wanted it, but it was wrong, Tara was in a relationship. Chad was your friend, and here you were, practically lying on top of her girlfriend, kissing her with all the desire you'd been holding back for six months.  

“Tara.” You tried to say, only to be drowned out by Tara's mouth. “Tara, that's wrong.” You said, finally pulling away from the young Carpenter and sitting down on the sofa.   

Your hands quickly went to your hair, brushing them back as you thought about how good and wrong that felt. Tara stood up, sitting down next to you, the two of you's breathing the only things that could be heard in the apartment.   

“I think I should go.” You said, getting up from the sofa.  

Quickly feeling your wrist being grabbed, you looked at Tara, who wasn't looking back at you. Tara was looking at the floor, you couldn't see it, but tears had started to gather in the young Carpenter's eyes. 

“Stay, please.” You sat down on the sofa immediately, it was as if your body was simply commanded by her and now you couldn't go anywhere.   

Sitting there again, Tara looked at you for the first time, you could see tears slowly making their way down her face, and you were confused as to why she was crying.   

“I like you.” It was the only thing she said. You were petrified, it seemed that she had finally put everything she had ever wanted to say out there.   

“What?”   

“I like you, Yn. I've liked you since the beginning, I know it's wrong, but I couldn't hide it any longer.” Tara replied, still holding your hand. 

“When you say it's wrong, you mean...” You looked into her eyes.  

 “No, not that. I don't feel wrong for liking you, I feel wrong for the way I said it to you.” Tara squeezed your hand tightly. “I've been lying to myself my whole life, Yn. And when I saw you for the first time I broke a little, you broke me little by little, until now. I can't hide it anymore because I'm in love, Yn.”   

You felt the young Carpenter start to tense up, tears streaming down her face and you clasped her hand in yours, trying to bring her some kind of comfort.   

“I don't like Chad, I never did. I can't love him the way he loves me, I can't love any guy, Yn. And I know I said, damn it, I knew I said it all along, I was just so scared...”   

A sob cut off Tara's speech, causing the girl to simply collapse in front of you. Quickly wrapped in your arms, Tara began to cry hard, sobbing, shaking and collapsing into you.   

You couldn't believe it, the girl you had fallen in love with was in love with you too. Your world had turned completely around, sirens were going off in your head, and an instant feeling of relief came over you. However, all this was quickly swept aside when you remembered that you had to comfort Tara.   

“All right, put it out.” You said, cradling Tara in your arms.   

Sniffling and trying to wipe away the tears that flowed, Tara pulled her face away from your chest, looking at you for the first time in a few minutes.   

“I'm sorry.” It was the first thing she said. Opening a slight smile of understanding, and putting the messy strands of Tara's hair back in place, you sighed.   

“Don't apologize. I like you too, Tara.” The sparkle in the young Carpenter's eyes seemed to return as soon as the words left your mouth. “I've really fallen for you, you're one of the most amazing, strong, funny and captivating people I've ever met.” A smile grew on Tara's face, she couldn't think of a better way for this conversation to go.   

“But there's still Chad.”  

“I'm going to break up with him.”   

Without even thinking twice, Tara said it looking you in the eye, how could you even doubt her when she said it with such certainty?  

“Wow, okay, wait.” You sat down properly on the sofa. “Tara, I love that you're finally okay, and that you're allowing yourself to be discovered, but take it easy.” You held the woman's hand.   

“I just want to get back everything I lost, Yn. Everything I lost with you.” Tara said, taking your face in her hands.  

“I know. But how about this, you take a week for yourself, think about what you want to do and think only about you. I'll be here anyway, waiting for you.” You say, taking her hands in yours and kissing them gently.   

At six in the morning, someone was impatiently ringing your doorbell. Fearing it might be a nutter, you made your way quietly to the door, still trying to get your eyes to focus and your mind to start working. It was too early, you'd just woken up, and whoever this crazy person was, you were going to kick their ass for waking you up so early on a free day.   

Trying to see what was bothering you so early through the peephole, all you could see was the top of a head, strands of brown hair falling over it, and at that moment you were even more confused, why was the Carpenter gnome knocking on your door so early?  

“Tara, what are you doing here so...” Before you could even speak, you were cut off by a Tara Carpenter jumping on you like a koala and kissing you lovingly.   

It was almost like a wife seeing her husband off to war, that was definitely love. The kiss was slow and loving, and you held Tara's thighs so that she had a foothold. Entering the apartment, you closed the door as you stood, going over to the sofa and settling the young Carpenter on your lap.   

“I broke up with him.” Tara said into the kiss, running her hands up your hair and messing it up even more. “I want you. Please, I'm crazy for you.”   

You had given Tara the week you told her about. She was discovering herself, doing the things she should have done a long time ago, while you were too busy with college exams. There wasn't much time left to meet up with your friends over the last few days, and it seems that someone missed you a lot.   

“Did you break up with Chad?” You asked, turning away from Tara to grab some oxygen before you were pulled into the young Carpenter's love cloud again.   

“I told you, Yn. I want you, I always wanted you.” Tara's eyes sparkled and her smile reflected yours.  

Moving closer again, you kissed, finally doing what you'd wanted to do since you first met. Tara's hands ran freely through your hair, while yours tightened around her waist. Pulling away slightly, Tara grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing, pulling it up and off, making you copy her movements.   

With one swift movement, you turned her around, making her lean back on the couch while you knelt in front of her. Distributing kisses across her collarbone, you traced your way down, and with quick hands, you removed the bra the younger Carpenter was wearing without wasting any time. Tara moaned when she felt your mouth on her nipple, and when you reached out and massaged the other nipple, she thought she was in heaven.   

After giving each nipple equal attention, you trailed your kisses down Tara's abs, running your hands along the button of her pants before directing your gaze at her.  

“Can I take these off you?” you asked, a look full of desire on your face as you eagerly played with the button of Tara's pants.   

“Do whatever you want to me, baby.” That's what you wanted to hear.  

Unbuttoning Tara's pants, you slid the fabric down the Carpenter girl's legs, climbing back up towards her intimacy and distributing kisses on her thighs. You could see the wet spot that had formed on Tara's panties, and looking down at her, you gave her clit a little kiss over the fabric, making her moan softly at you.  

Smiling, you removed Tara's panties and put her legs on your shoulders. The woman looked at you expectantly, her breathing was labored, and when you finally gave her the first lick, Tara could have sworn she saw stars. Throwing her head back, the woman enjoyed every movement of your tongue in her intimacy, grabbing your hair when your tongue went deep inside her for the first time.   

Tara didn't know sex could be so good, she had never experienced anything like it. The sensation was overwhelming, and every little stimulation she felt brought her to a paradise on earth. Tara had been eaten out before, but it was never like this, it never had the same passion, the same sensations, the same dedication and it certainly never had the same meaning.   

Your tongue ran through Tara's folds, finding new spots that even she didn't know existed, and suddenly, a noose began to form in the young Carpenter's bowels. Tara had cum before, she thought, she wasn't sure. But the point is, what had you done to her? Tara's legs began to tremble, her body spasmed in ways she couldn't control, and just as she was beginning to try to pull away, you held her in place.  

You didn't care about the noise complaints, and even if you did, you couldn't contain Tara's loud moans. Your hand, which was pressed a little lower on her abs, seemed to have awakened something inside the Carpenter girl, and in the midst of the spasms and moans, her juices began to flow, staining your lips and chin.   

Kissing her thighs, you waited for her to recover. Without even realizing that you had risen from your position on the floor, Tara was only brought out of her little world when you kissed her, making her taste herself on your lips.   

“I'm really in love with you.” Tara said, making you laugh.   

“Ready for one more or do you need a break?” 

“Can you go one more? Can we get married?” 

Hi guys, I wanted to start by saying that I haven't proofread this yet, cause I'm a bit busy organizing things for college. so if anything is wrong, please ignore it, I'll correct it later.

Also, I was going to put 'good lucky, baby' for this fic, but I'm just addicted to this Zayn song, and it kind of inspired me a bit.

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic, I loved writing it.

stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 3: A very bad idea, part 1

Find yesterday's entry here

CWs: usual gratuitous sex scene; demon summoning; serious dubcon, probably noncon when you think about it; heavy cumflation; horror themes; hyper-genitals; it's a lot today, folks

Author's note: Jesus H Christ this one got away from me. It gets good after about halfway but I feel like I spent too long setting up. Ah well, live and learn. I'm also trying something a little new where I'm linking the next few episodes together, so this one, episode 4, and episode 5 will follow on from one another.

There's basically no plot, so do what you want with that, but it's a fun thought.

With that aside, enjoy!

##########################################

It was a bit of a tradition now, whenever Heather was in town you'd get the lowest-rated book on a topic from the internet and take the piss out of it over a few bottles of your favourite red wine. Well, this week the wheel had spun, and landed on Demonology as a topic.

You thought about just saying screw it, and choosing another, but as you browsed the web for a terrible book, you saw it: "My First Book of Shadows" by Creedle and Crabnuts. The store listing alone was comical, from the pictures it looked like it had been printed out at home, badly trimmed to size and haphazardly stapled together. It was perfect. Two minutes later, and £5 lighter, it was on its way, predicted to arrive a couple of nights before her.

You leafed through the book when it arrived, barely a magazine really, and saw it contained what purported to be step-by-step directions to call forth a denizen of Hell, including a list of materials and guides to pronounce the chants.

Something about it... It called to you.

You don't know what came over you, but before you knew it you were walking around the high street, gathering incense sticks, candles, chalk, and a razor-sharp knife.

Heather arrived at your door on Friday evening, you had the house to yourself until at least Sunday afternoon and so we're busy in the living room. Your hands were covered in chalk dust in shades of white, blue, purple and red. The incense smoke was already filling the whole house with heady aromas of bergamot, cloves, camphor and myrrh.

She knocked again, snapping you out of your reverie. Still dressed in your dressing gown (robes are expensive, it turns out) you flung open the door and hugged your friend tight. "I have a surprise for you!"

"What? You've had the place fumigated?" Heather laughed, her voice lilting and sweet in the chill of the fading light.

"Better, come and see" you grabbed her by the hand and took her into the room where your circle lay, half finished, on the laminate floor

"Taken up a cult?" Heather's laughter hadn't stopped yet, then she saw the book open on the floor "Or started without me?" Mock-pouting now as she opened a bottle and started to pour the wine

You lent Heather your other bathrobe and as she pulled it on you couldn't help but see a small pile of her other clothes in the corner. Was she wearing anything under there? You guessed it fits the theme, and you'd been half hoping tonight would take that turn anyway, so you didn't say anything.

Together, you worked on the circle, both on hands and knees to trace the delicate runes and lines onto the ground. A few times Heather's gown rode up and the sight of her pink lower lips told you that, yes, she was completely naked under there.

You finished up, and knelt at opposite sides of the floor, gazing into the circle you'd drawn. Maybe a little smudged in places, but you weren't expecting anything to really happen as you recited the chants. The unfamiliar words felt strange to get your mouth around. As you came to the last few syllables you could have sworn the candles flickered, the incense grew more intense, the chalk lines began to smoulder. You raised the knife in your right hand and drew the point across your left.

That's when you realised your mistake.

The first drops of blood began to boil on your palm. The room became hot, and dry, like a desert wind blowing in your face. Gone were the scents of the incense, replaced with the smell of hot metal, searing meat, ozone, blood.

A noise, somehow the opposite of a bang. A dazzling flash. The guttering candles now ablaze and belching thick, black smoke that billowed down their sides like tar. You could see the fear in Heather's eyes, but neither of you could move. You were transfixed by what had appeared in the centre of the circle.

Too tall, too skinny, it hovered 6 inches off the ground. Spindly legs, 4 spindly arms, pencil-necked and sharp faced. Bald and with curved metal shards forming a shattered halo above its head. It blinked its four angular eyes and spoke with a voice that somehow echoed before you heard it

"Hail! I am Simizel! Viscount of the pit of Ashen Despair, Lord Commander of the seventeenth regiment of the Damned. Who are you to call me?"

You struggled to make any noise, throat dry and gasping for air. Simizel looked around at both of you, then down at the circle below him. "Wait, that's not right" he mused, "That's nonsense, that's spelled wrong, that's right, but in the wrong place, and..."

He looked at you

"It's a little irregular to ask, but what binding spell did you two use?" He was still looking at the ground quizzically as you rose to your feet

"Binding spell?" You croaked, eyes streaming

"Yes, to bind me, you know, so I don't just kill you both and go home?"

His eyes widened and his mouth grew into a wide smirk as he realised what had happened. He reached for the crumpled and charring pamphlet on the floor and skimmed it.

His smirk turned to a chuckle, then a laugh, then a cackle

"By my name! Someone thought they were very clever, didn't they?" He either couldn't disguise his mirth, or wasn't trying very hard "You just copied out any old rubbish and slit yourself open!"

A wave of his hand. You and Heather were floating in front of him now. "I haven't been amused like this in centuries. For being such fun, I'll give you girls some gifts"

He flicked his wrist and both of your gowns burned away, leaving you naked and glistening with sweat and fear

"First, if you want to try this again in the future, do it properly." He gestures at the book and it burns away, replaced with a wax-sealed scroll "That will summon an old friend of mine, just break the seal, read the words, and out he will come"

"Next, I'll make sure I don't leave behind any cambions" His clawed fingers etched patterns into your and Heather's skin. You tried to struggle against the pain, but your body was under his spell. In a few moments of etching, he had carved glowing sigils into the flesh just above each of your pubic bones.

He smiled, almost warmly, "Knowledge, and a boon, normally gifts like these would cost a soul, but I feel generous tonight, so I will simply take my fill of your bodies."

The spell keeping you aloft broke, and you dropped to the floor in a heap. You looked up at him and wondered how you could have missed it: between his pale thighs hung a pendulous, rapidly hardening cock. Your belly began to ache and your mouth water. What had come over you?

You started to crawl over to him, dimly aware Heather was doing the same next to you. Reaching up for this amazing rod as it grew longer and thicker than any human would have, flared at the head like a horse's and knotted at the base. You weren't sure how it was going to fit inside you

You knew you were going to make it.

You started kissing the end, as Heather began sucking on his gravid balls, each one the size of a grapefruit. Simizel cradled your face in his hand, fingers still bloody from marking you, then lifted you up with a gesture.

Upside-down now, you could see a rope of glittering precum hanging from his cock as it pulsed against your lips. You held out your tongue to try and taste it.

As soon as your lips parted it was in your mouth. You felt like your jaw would break. You didn't care. His tongue was at your pussy, licking your clit furiously and making you shake. You tensed up as you came, hips bucking against his face.

He pushed you down. The too-thick cock forcing its way down your throat and making you gag. You couldn't breathe. You still didn't care. You didn't care as you felt somehow even more tongues at your clit, invading your pussy, pushing into your asshole

He started thrusting. You felt as though you could split in half. Some dark power was keeping you conscious as you felt the end of his cock moving up and down in your belly. The thrusting got harder and faster until the knot was driven past your lips and started swelling in your mouth.

His tongues were still at your cunt. Your body squeezing against him as repeated orgasms rocked you. You could feel yourself squirting fluid into his face as he fucked your mouth open even wider

His cock must have been in your stomach now, bottoming out and stuck in you. You could feel it pulsing and could see his balls pumping in front of your face as your belly began to swell with the volume of fluid gushing into you. You tried to scream, in pain, in ecstasy, you're not sure, but the vast mass stuffed inside you prevented any sound escaping.

Heather was still cradling his balls in her hands as she kissed you, licking the base of his cock where it was jammed into your face, tasting where his fluids were leaking out of the sides of your mouth. Her eyes were empty but for lust as she rubbed her hands over her clit, her hips bucking erratically

The knot began to loosen and pull away from you. You felt hands on your hips lifting you from the demonic shaft as it pumped ever more into you, until it slipped free. You saw it hang, still pumping potent demon-seed and painting your friend's naked body in sticky, viscous white as she screamed her way to another full-body orgasm.

The world came back into relief and you realised you were panting and moaning, the tongues bringing you to your peak again and again. Pain rocked your body in between waves of pleasure as you came over and over, cum leaking from your mouth and throat as Heather stood below.

The demon wasted no time, repositioning himself under the two of you on the floor, one pair of impossibly strong hands on your hips as you rode his face, the other positioning your friend's ass over his impossible cock, still leaking and pulsing.

You heard her gasp and call out as it entered her ass, stretching her out and filling her immediately. Again and again he pushed in, her belly growing larger and larger with the size of him and the fluids he emitted. Your orgasmic cried mingled as your mind blanked and you passed out.

You don't know how long it was having its way with Heather, but when you came to you were lay on the floor watching it pull out of her pussy, her ass and throat leaking fluids and her gurgling moans of pleasure filling your ears.

Simizel looked at you and you wordlessly rolled onto your back, legs opened for him. He strode over to you, leaving your friend lying on her side in a pool of his semen and her own squirt.

He loomed over you and pressed himself against your aching hole. You gasped as it pushed in, stretching you around its immense girth. He was at your cervix already, and showed no signs of stopping. You screamed out as it pushed deeper in, lubricating its movement with a neverending stream of thick cum. Your eyes rolling as your orgasm rocked you again and again until he was again at the hilt. You weren't sure how much longer you could take it as he pumped litre after litre into you, the fluids spraying out of you even despite the knot holding him into you.

You passed out again.

This time you woke up and he was gone. Heather was where he left her. Sunlight was starting to eke in through the drawn curtains. You felt your belly, round and full, it sloshed around as you moved towards the bathroom to expel as much of the spunk left in your ass and your cramping womb as you could.

As you stood you felt the mark he left on your skin, it wasn't glowing now but still remained, red and cauterised by the heat of his claws.

You heard movement, Heather was awake and groaning. Her eyes met yours. They were still empty, there wasn't anything there but lurid desire. Your heart dropped as you lamented what he had done to her, before you realised where she was moving to

The scroll

She broke the wax and opened the paper before you could reach her on your shaking legs. She read the words and the walls began to shift.

A purple light suffused the room

You weren't done yet.

[dilf-docs]

"Call It What You Want" Series: Drabbles. In today's episode, Y/n L/n goes on a Chicken Shop Date! ft. Amelia Dimoldenberg

Set: Before the first part of the CIWYW series Warnings: None. Just lousy comedy. I'm sorry Word count: 974 words

"So, I heard a rumor"

You pop a fry into your mouth. "Gotta be more specific with that"

"That you like older men" she replies back in an instant. You almost choke on your fry. Almost. You're quick to recover, taken back still.

"Oh, that" you let out a laugh. "I suppose it's true"

You think back about one of your most liked instagram posts, an old one. A graphic t-shirt with the front spelling I Love Dilfs, a red heart in the middle. Pedro had teased you about it, to which you replied: Are you stalking me?

"Why not older women?" she questions, and your eyes go wide at it. You've never been one to label yourself, especially not online.

"You aren't old, Amelia"

Her character falters a bit at your comeback.

"Did you just called me old?" she jabs. "I can poison your nuggets"

"Well" you reply, "it would be a bit weird that I thought about other people while we're on a date, right?"

She contains a laugh.

"I'd say then, that you have good taste" she bites a nugget. You bite yours. "Can I ask one thing, though?"

"Sure" you lean forward, then look at the camera, pleading, "as long as it's not about my dating life-"

Finding out who you were dating was one of the Internet's favorite topics. It went wild every time a new project of yours dropped, since you seemed to have insane chemistry with your co-stars. This time, the victim was Sam Cafflin, who just happened to star in some horror flick called Bagman. You weren't even together in the movie, but the few promotions you did together were enough for fans to place their imput in your relationship. They always did, yet, so far, no one had been able to guess it right.

And you're lucky, because it's been a while now since you and Pedro were together.

"If you could choose any D.I.L.F to take my place and be on a date with you, right now, who would it be?"

"Rude. I see you insist on me cheating on you on our date"

"I'm curious" she says, her accent shinning. "The Internet loves to pair you up with older men as much as you love to pair up yourself. Have you noticed?"

It's no secret. You're as clear as ambiguous. Everyone knows your preference, but none the fact that you're even married.

"Of course. I love my fans too much" you take a sip of your lemonade. "You could say I am a fan of them"

"Alright, but who you'd pick?" Amelia insists.

"Depends on the season" you chuckle. Your mind instantly goes to your husband. Still, you decide to spice things a bit with your answer. Give the Internet something to say. Give him something to say. Shit stirrer, you hear his voice in your mind. "Right now, it's summer, and Hugh Jackman seems the right answer"

The blonde woman raises her eyebrows.

"He was here just last month" Amelia says. "Should I give him your number?"

"You don't have my number" you deadpan. "Nor his"

Her eyes go wide as she suppresses a smile.

"Say I did. Should I ask yours for him?"

You shrug. "I'm a busy woman. If they want me, they better find me"

She chuckles lightly at that. "Well, thank you for making time for me then"

"Oh, for a pretty girl, anytime. Might like you more than my D.I.L.F.S"

Yet, in your heart, there's only a space and Pedro's carved itself inside it.

"Hugh Jackman, huh?" he muses. "What the fuck is he gonna do for you, hmh?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, moving from side to side in a cheeky manner. He's been bugging you with it ever since you stepped inside the house, and you've been trying so hard for him to drop it, but you knew it was lost case ever since he started spamming your phone once the interview dropped last night.

"Pop those claws out"

"You could have a Roman general yet you chose a mutant freak"

"The Roman general dies. Wolverine is immortal" you argue back.

"You're saying that just because he's trending right now... I want to see if you hold to the same answer when Gladiator II comes out"

"Baby, be honest. Are you jealous?" you tease.

He scoffs. "Of a guy with forks for hands? Please"

"Calm down. No need to fight this war, general" you stand on your tiptoes, his lips brushing yours. "You know I'm all yours"

His grip on your waist tightens, then leans into your ear and whispers, possessively so.

"Damn right you fucking are"

You're enjoying this a bit too much. Not even the Internet had gone that crazy over your interview.

"Hugh Jackman can sing though"

"Aw, c'mon!" you laugh as he slips from your embrace. "That's it, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"No, wait" you chase after him, giggling.

His face is flushed when he looks back at you.

"You know, I Iearned to sign Future Days, for Joel. But now? You get nothing, ungrateful deceiving wifey"

You feign hurt, placing a hand on your chest.

"Is it bad to say another man is hot, or have you gone too woke?"

"You're married. Don't bullshit me"

"Secretly married!" you protest.

"So that allows you to thirst out-loud for other men?" you remain silent. God, he's stubborn. "You've been a real bad girl"

You stop on your tracks. So does he. When you smile, wickedly so, he knows he's done for.

"I can be a good girl if you want"

Sultry voice. Dripping in honey, dropping in tone. Batting eyelashes. Parted glossed-up lips. His cock twitches. He feels like a fool.

Pedro just runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna be the death of me"

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[remmickslvt]

Dimly Lit Desire (NSFW 18+)

contains: detailed depictions of sexual interactions, oral sex-giving and female receiving, violence, gore

The soft embrace of the encroaching dusk enveloped your body, the whisper of crickets and rustling heather filling the sweet, hot air. An abandoned farm housed a place of comfort and relaxation, reminding you of home. It was a place you often found yourself escaping to, fleeing the chatter of the town and swirling rumors of mysterious disappearances of some of your closest connections. But tonight was different. That usual feeling of the darkness holding you in its arms had switched to a tighter grip around your throat. That din of the crickets had turned to sinister hisses circling around your head and dipping in and out of your ears. The soft kiss of the still warmth was now stinging snaps on your skin, droplets of sweat gathering like poison hanging on the fangs of a rattlesnake. Familiar peace had shifted to creeping uneasiness. You weren't alone. A snapping twig in the line of trees flicked your gaze in its direction, the buildup of anxiety climbing up your spine and brushing ice cold fingers across your arms. Now fully facing the woods, you stepped back towards the old, dilapidated barn, deciding to stay within its walls for the time being. You hoped this feeling would pass. Not taking your widened eyes off of the pitch black beyond, you backed against the outside of the barn, the rough wood hitching on your shoulders and the fabric of your sundress. You inched towards the gaping doors of the structure, your soft fingers grazing the aged siding, almost as if you wanted to hold onto its sturdiness. Just as you reached the opening, a deep voice rumbled through the field.

"Goin' so soon, lass?" You froze as the silhouette of a stocky figure emerged out of the blackness, glowing red orbs at the center of his head.

You jumped inside of the building, watching in horror as the shape effortlessly gave way to a man in his mid-thirties, the front of his white button-up soaked in dark, rich liquid. Blood. His suspenders held onto broad shoulders and a wide chest that rose and fell with ragged breaths. His trousers fit tightly around his midsection, held up with a weathered leather belt. The man was all of the sudden just mere feet away from the threshold of the barn, the moonlight illuminating his face. A strong brow matched a square set jaw, and a sneer gave way to glinting fangs, a thick trail of drool oozing out of the corner of his lips. Fresh blood trickled down his chin and neck, coating the stubble on his jaw.

"Ya don't wanna be in there all alone, now do ya, lass?" his crimson gaze shifted to take in the sight of your body, "It gets real lonely out here."

You lifted your chin and regarded him through half lidded eyes. "What are you suggesting?" You positioned yourself so one arm was propping against the edge of the doorway, your hand just barely passing the threshold into the night beyond.

With a swift glance at your exposed hand, the man then turned his eyes back to you. "I suggest ya let me in an' let me keep ya company." His sneer curled into a grin, his fangs flashing stark white in contrast to the darkness surrounding him. Now that you knew why you felt a presence outside, your fear started to shed off your shoulders, replaced by a piquing curiosity.

"Convince me." You demanded, your eyes drinking him in as he stood before you. He swept his tongue across his bloodstained lips and took your hand in his, softly stroking your skin with his long bony claws. His eyes burning into yours still, he guided your fingers to his mouth, taking in your middle finger and beginning to swirl his tongue around its length. You sharply inhaled, your eyelids fluttering as the sudden advancement took you off-guard. As he sucked on your fingers, you felt yourself yearning for that tongue to explore elsewhere. Your eyes wandered to the growing hardness in his trousers, and all judgment left your thoughts. He pulled your fingers out from between his lips with a subtle pop, sneering as he followed your gaze.

"Whatcha' want me to do, darlin?" The sudden petname sent butterflies through your stomach and you brought your eyes back up to his face.

"I want you to come in."

He was on you immediately, passion enveloping your bodies as you collided, his lips crashing against yours with such a hunger you had never experienced. Your hands traveled up to his dark curly hair, fingers tugging at sweaty locs.

"Names Remmick, by tha way." he breathed between starved kisses, nipping at your lower lip as you pulled him back farther into the barn. You responded by letting a muffled moan escape into his mouth as he pressed you against the wall, his hands clutching your sides. He ripped himself away from tongue-fucking you and pulled the hem of your sundress up past your waist, lowering himself to his knees in front of you. His eyes had shifted to a lustful gaze as he took you in standing before him. The moonlight shone onto his skin, drool practically streaming out of both corners of his mouth. You pressed your thighs together as if to contain the growing heat in your core, ashamed by how badly you wanted him. He pulled your legs apart and shoved his head between, his tongue grazing your wetness and causing your breath to hitch. Instinctively your hands traveled to his hair once again, holding tightly as he began to suck and lap at your folds. His claws gripped your thighs so tight that small beads of dark blood began to appear at the tips, and you gasped at the sharp pain mixed with the sweet pleasure. As you felt the knot in your stomach growing and the heat spreading through your body, Remmick pulled back and grabbed you away from the wall. He practically shoved you to your knees and unbuckled his belt hastily as he licked your juices off of his lips. The blood mixed with your taste had him on a whole 'nother level, and he needed you to fulfill his sick desires. He took his throbbing length into his hands, the tip already slick from precum. You watched him through long eyelashes as his face twisted into pure primal desire. He thrust his cock into your parted lips, a long gravelly moan escaping his throat as he gripped the back of your hair. You swirled your tongue around the length as he slammed into the back of your throat, feeling the twitch of his nearing climax. You then pulled back, a long string of saliva connecting your lips to his manhood. You laid back on the dusty floorboards, your core throbbing for him to fill you up. He unspokenly obliged, and with a growl his weight was pressed against your body, pinning you to the floor. With a deep thrust, he shoved his entire length inside you, and you gasped without time to adjust to his size. In the midst of your sudden sensation, his jaws clamped onto your shoulder, his long fangs sinking into your soft flesh and colliding with your collarbone. A shaky moan from both intense pain and pleasure slipped out between your lips as he rocked his hips against yours, each time pulling almost the entire way out and slamming back into you. Thick blood cascaded from your wound and ran down the length of your body, soaking the front of his shirt even more as he then shifted focus to lapping and sucking at your swollen breasts. He growled into your skin, the sound rumbling through your chest as you clawed at his back, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. The growing pressure and heat knotting in your core threatened to break free, and you could tell Remmick was close as well. His pace quickened and short groans filled the room with sounds of desire and wet skin hitting against each other.

"Oh- oh my God sweetheart." He bit down on crook of your neck as his climax hit him like a tidal wave, overtaking his senses as he filled your insides with his hot seed. You followed short after, intense convulsions making way for the sweet release and tightening of your walls around his length, milking him of every drop. Your vision blurred with the mind-numbing orgasm as well as blood loss. Remmick, still rooted deep inside you, swept a ragged tongue across your wounds, raising himself to hover over your face as streams of your own blood fell onto your lips. As consciousness balanced on the edge, you were aware of his voice echoing into the darkness.

“Now we can do this forever darlin’.”

[raekensluver]

dangerous attractions (3)

masterlist | main masterlist - part one, part two, part three

description: your mysterious new neighbor, spencer reid, turns out to be an agent for the fbi, and you get tangled up in his dangerous life.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, r is implied as being shorter than spencer.

song rec: reflections by the nbhd- "i never knew somebody like you, somebody."

w.c: 3.1k

an: thank you so much for the love on my recent publishings!!

over the next few weeks, spencer became a constant presence in your life. he would come over every time he got off work, his eyes searching yours for any signs of fear or trauma. his visits grew longer, his smiles more genuine, and the quiet chess games evolved into deep, late-night conversations about everything and nothing at all.

you found yourself drawn to his world—the complex puzzles of human behavior that he solved every day, the quiet strength that allowed him to face such horrors and still come home to a quiet apartment. he spoke rarely of his cases, but the few details he shared painted a picture of a man who cared deeply for the people he was sworn to protect.

his visits grew more frequent, and with each one, the tension between you grew stronger. it was as if the danger had drawn you closer together, the shared experience of fear and adrenaline forging a bond that neither of you could ignore. you began to crave the sound of his footsteps in the hallway, the gentle knock on your door that signaled his arrival.

spencer noticed the change in you, the way you leaned into him when he spoke, the way your eyes searched his for reassurance. he offered comfort without words, his presence a silent promise that you weren't alone. he would sit with you, not saying much, just being there—a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

one evening, as you sat side by side on your couch, the air grew thick with something unspoken. the tension was palpable, a live wire connecting you both. spencer reached for your hand, his touch sending a jolt through your body. your eyes met, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his job, the toll it took on him, the loneliness he carried like an invisible shield.

you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. "thank you," you murmured, the words feeling inadequate for the comfort he brought.

spencer squeezed your hand gently. "for what?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.

you tilted your head to look at him, his eyes searching yours. "for being here," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "for… everything."

his gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of his job, the intensity of his world, seemed to fade away. "you don't have to thank me," he said, his voice gentle. "i just want to make sure you're okay."

you felt a warmth spread through you, his simple words resonating deep within. "i know," you whispered. "but i do. i don't know what i would have done without you."

spencer's eyes searched yours, and you could see the conflict within him—his desire to keep you safe at arm's length and the growing bond that was drawing him closer. "you're strong," he murmured. "you're much stronger than you think."

his words were like a warm embrace, and you found yourself leaning into him, craving the connection that had been building between you. "i'm scared," you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice surprising you.

spencer's gaze never wavered. "i know," he said softly. "but you're not alone."

his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. his touch was tender, a stark contrast to the world he lived in. you leaned into his palm, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solidity of his presence. without thinking, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his.

for a moment, time stood still. then, with a groan, spencer deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you. you melted into him, the fear and confusion of the past weeks coalescing into something warm and comforting. his kiss was urgent, hungry, as if he had been holding back for so long, afraid to let himself feel.

you responded in kind, your hands sliding up his chest, tangling in his hair. the world outside the apartment faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a dance of passion and relief. his touch was gentle but firm, his body heat seeping into yours, chasing away the chill that had taken up residence in your bones.

the kiss grew more intense, your breaths mingling as you explored each other's mouths with a desperation that was both thrilling and terrifying. the line between friend and protector had been crossed, and you weren't sure if there was any going back. but in that moment, you didn't care. all that mattered was the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace.

spencer's hands roamed your body, his touch sending waves of heat through you. you felt his need, his desire, and it matched your own. you had never been so alive, so present in the moment. the chaos of the recent past faded away, replaced by the rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

his hands found the hem of your shirt, and with trembling fingers, he began to lift it. you helped him, eager to feel his skin against yours. as the fabric was peeled away, you felt a sense of exposure, but also of liberation. there was no room for fear in the face of such raw passion.

his touch was gentle yet firm as he traced the lines of your body, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, his lips following the path of his fingers. a soft moan escaped your lips, and you knew that you were lost to this feeling, to him.

you straddled him on the couch, your legs wrapping around his waist. your bodies fit together perfectly, as if you had been made for this moment. his hands found your hips, guiding you closer, the heat between you building. the fabric of your clothes seemed to be the only thing separating you, a barrier that was quickly becoming unbearable.

his kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. your own hands explored his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours, a symphony of need and want.

his fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and with a sigh, you let it fall away. his eyes searched yours for permission, and with a nod, you gave it. he cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks. a gasp escaped your lips, and you leaned into his touch, feeling more alive than you had in months.

spencer's mouth found yours again, his kisses deepening as his hands continued to explore. you could feel the tension in his body, the coiled energy of a man who held the weight of the world on his shoulders finally letting go. you mirrored his urgency, needing to feel him, to connect in the most primal way possible.

you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly with trembling hands. he took over, his movements swift and sure as he undid the last button and shrugged the shirt off, revealing the expanse of his chest. your eyes took in the sight of him, the muscles honed from years of training, the scars that told a silent story of battles won and lost.

spencer flipped you around so that your back was pressed to his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. you gasped as his skin met yours, the heat of his body searing into you, his chest a wall of warmth and strength at your back. his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

his hands roamed over your body, his fingers deftly sliding under the waistband of your panties. with a gentle tug, he removed the last barrier between you, tossing the fabric aside. you could feel his breath, hot and ragged, against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings, praising your beauty, your strength. his words were a gentle caress, a balm to your frayed nerves.

his fingers found their way to your cunt, the softness of his touch making you gasp. you were wet, slick with desire, and he took note of it with a soft groan, his praise turning into a murmur of wonder. "you're so beautiful," he whispered, his fingertips tracing your folds with a feather-light touch. "so wet for me."

his words sent a shiver through you, and you arched your back, pushing your ass against his hardening cock. he took the hint, sliding a single digit inside you with a gentle pressure that had you moaning his name. "yes," you breathed.

spencer's hand moved with the rhythm of your hips, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back in your head. you could feel your walls tightening around him, desperate for release. "you're so wet," he murmured, his voice a dark promise in your ear. "you want me, don't you?"

you nodded, unable to form words as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously. "yes," you gasped, the sound barely audible. "more."

his strokes grew more deliberate, his thumb finding your clit and beginning to circle it with a firm pressure that had you panting. "you're so perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "so responsive."

your hips began to rock in time with his hand, the tension inside you building. "spencer," you moaned, his name a plea for more. "yes," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "let me make you feel good."

his fingers worked you with a skill that left you trembling, his touch both gentle and insistent. your body responded to his every command, your slickness dripping down your thighs. "you're so wet for me," he said, his voice thick with lust. "so fucking perfect."

his words were a catalyst, sending you hurtling towards climax. your eyes squeezed shut, your head thrown back, your mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm crashed over you. your muscles tightened around his fingers, pulsing with the intensity of your release.

spencer held you through it, his arms tight around your waist, his mouth moving from your neck to your ear, whispering sweet nothings that only served to prolong the pleasure. when the tremors finally subsided, you collapsed against him, your breaths coming in gasps.

his hands remained gentle on your body, the urgency of the moment giving way to a tender care. he turned you in his arms, so you faced him, and kissed you softly, the passion of moments ago now a gentle warmth that wrapped around you like a blanket. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "yes," you whispered, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "more than okay."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes filled with warmth. "good," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "because i've wanted to do this for a long time."

his kiss was gentle, a stark contrast to the passionate maelstrom of moments before. it was as if he was memorizing the taste of you, savoring every second. your hands slid up his arms, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingertips. you felt cherished, protected—like he was trying to erase the fear that had taken up residence in your soul.

spencer laid you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours. the cushions sank beneath your weight, the fabric warm and welcoming. his eyes searched yours, making sure you were ready, that you wanted this as much as he did. your nod was all the invitation he needed.

his hands moved to the button of his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. with a slow, deliberate movement, he unzipped them, the sound of his zipper echoing in the quiet room. he slid the fabric down his legs, revealing his erection, straining against the fabric of his boxers. your eyes widened, taking in the sight of him.

his cock was thick and hard, a testament to his desire for you. you felt a thrill of power, knowing that you had elicited such a response from this man who faced horrors on a daily basis. "spencer," you murmured, your voice thick with want.

his boxers followed the path of his pants, and he positioned himself between your legs. his cock nudged against your entrance, the heat of him making you ache for more. you reached down, wrapping your hand around him, feeling the pulse of his desire. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.

you guided him inside you, his thickness stretching you deliciously. he pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes never leaving yours. when he was fully seated, he stilled, his chest heaving with the effort to hold back. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "yes," you whispered, the single word a declaration of trust. spencer's gaze searched yours, his expression a mix of concern and desire. with a gentle nod, he began to move, his strokes long and slow, as if he was savoring every moment.

you gripped the couch cushions, your body responding to his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his. the friction was exquisite, the fullness of him inside you filling you in a way nothing else ever had. his eyes remained locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

his strokes grew deeper, his pace increasing, as if he couldn't get enough of you. you felt your second orgasm building, a slow burn that started in your core and spread through your body like wildfire. "spencer," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips.

his eyes searched yours, the concern in them morphing into something more primal, something that told you he needed this just as much as you did. he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his, his tongue delving deep as he thrust harder, faster. you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed with each stroke, the way his breathing grew ragged.

his hand slid down your body, finding your clit once more, his thumb circling it with just the right amount of pressure. the sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more.

spencer's movements grew more urgent, his hips driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. your moans grew louder, filling the room, echoing off the walls. his own breathing grew ragged, his eyes never leaving yours as he claimed you, as if he was trying to memorize every line of your face in the throes of passion.

his thumb circled your clit, the pressure increasing, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. "spencer," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "I'm going to—"

"come for me," he murmured, his voice a command that sent you spiraling over the edge. your body arched off the couch, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you trembling. he watched you intently, his eyes dark with desire as he felt your cunt pulse around him.

spencer's own release followed quickly, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his warmth filling you completely. his eyes never left yours, the connection between you unbroken even as the world around you spun away. your bodies remained joined, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you both.

for a moment, you simply lay there, panting, your hearts racing in sync. the quiet of the room was a stark contrast to the tumult of emotions inside you. spencer's weight was a comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone in this. that despite the chaos that had entered your life, there was still warmth, still passion.

but reality had a way of intruding, and the sudden buzz of his phone on the coffee table was like a cold shower. he pulled away with a groan, his eyes filled with regret. "i have to go," he murmured, his voice thick with reluctance. "work."

you nodded, understanding all too well the demands of his job. "be safe," you whispered, the words carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air.

spencer kissed you gently, his hand lingering on your cheek before he reluctantly pulled away. with a sigh, he began to gather his clothes, his movements efficient and methodical. you watched him dress, the sight of his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he buttoned it up. his eyes met yours, the warmth of the moment before replaced by the cool detachment of a man preparing to face the world.

you sat up, feeling the ache of his absence as he stepped away. your own clothes lay scattered around the room, a testament to the passion that had consumed you both. with trembling hands, you began to dress, the fabric of your clothes feeling almost foreign against your sensitive skin. the cotton of your shirt was rough against your nipples, still sensitive from his touch.

spencer watched you, his eyes lingering on your body before he turned away, focusing on his own clothes. you could see the struggle in his movements—the desire to stay, to hold you close, warring with the duty that called him away. it was a dance you were both too familiar with, the push and pull of your newfound intimacy and the cold reality of his work.

once dressed, he turned back to you, his expression one of deep apology. "i'm sorry," he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

you took a deep breath, trying to still the racing of your heart. "it's okay," you assured him, knowing he had no control over the demands of his job. "you have to go."

spencer nodded, his eyes searching yours one last time before he bent down to kiss you—a kiss that was at once gentle and filled with the promise of more to come. it was a kiss that said 'i'll be back' without uttering the words. his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "i'll check on you later," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him like a final punctuation on the intensity of the past few minutes. your body still hummed with the aftermath of pleasure, but your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. what had just happened between you? was this a one-time thing, a product of the fear and tension of the past weeks? or was it the beginning of something more?

[gyrovagi]

(nimbly dodging an assortment of hammers that are falling from the sky aimed directly for my head) ok. will contain spoilers for all games at some point but i'll put the avowed ones at the end and mark them for oomfs who haven't finished it yet. Please finish the game so i can tell you about ambrose (i am smiling but you can see me visibly white-knuckling the edge of my desk). anyway

i honestly think this is in large part just the natural conclusion of focusing in on reincarnation as a known, provable, central mechanism of your universe. so this is more scattered 'what's all this then?' thoughts and not, like, an essay with an argument. what IS all this then

because if you know for a fact that reincarnation is real, then birth and death are two sides of the same coin. the god of death has two faces, the god of rebirth/redemption is also the one reaping souls to sow again. which is a concept people on earth are already familiar with, but it's literally true in eora - and what tips it over into something horrific for me is the fact that you don't get a clean slate with the next turn around the wheel. every newborn infant is already a ghost. there's always a chance, however slim, that something from decades, centuries, even millennia ago could come back to haunt you. we don't see people experiencing awakenings and then having a good time! even if aloth comes to accept iselmyr, his awakening was a direct result of the physical abuse he experienced as a child. your fucking soul keeps the score!! and you have no way of escaping samsara other than hoping the god of entropy blasts your souls into bits, a mercy which he fails to extend to some of his most devoted followers in poe1. for his own reasons ❤️

which leads into the Second Fundamental Horror of eora, before we even start thinking about the hollowborn: the wheel of life and death is controlled - was hijacked, even - by gods who are completely unaccountable to the mortals whose lives they play around with. you can dedicate your life to rymrgand and he'll put you back in the game in the exact same position and there's nothing you can do about it. if you're born a godlike, if your child is born a godlike, whatever trials and tribulations arise as a result, a god chose to do that to you. you most likely won't ever get the chance to ask for an explanation, and even if you do, you won't get any answers.

the watcher learns essentially by chance that the ultimate 'function' the godlikes are born for is to act as backup bodies or batteries for the gods. even for the godlike we see that seem more favored by their gods/the people around them, the horror is still there just lurking in the background. a godlike does not exist by chance, they exist as the conscious act of a god who exerts control over their life and death as a matter of course. i feel like i can't put this into words the way i want to - like, it's not an accident, it's not a complication of birth or pregnancy that can just happen and it's nobody's fault. it is someone's fault. without your knowledge or consent a god reached into your womb and forever changed your baby, or a god forever changed you before you were even born. you know this for a fact, and there's nothing you can do about it.

and we still haven't gotten into the fucking hollowborn!!!! which is just right there on the page. what do i need to say about it. a baby that's physically fine - that is, strictly speaking, alive and breathing, with a beating heart, and warmth in its little fingers, but will never be capable of living. fifteen years is a generation. that's a long fucking time for whatever odd percent of babies to just be born... empty. and then woedica in the burned book of law tells you that soul maladies like the hollowborn weren't uncommon before the gods took over the wheel. like. jesus. you have some limited amount of control over trying to make sure an infant's born physically healthy but what can you do to make sure it's born with an intact soul?

[major spoilers for both poe games commence but deadfire is almost 7 years old. if you are oomf who hasn't finished though it's fun to experience it yourself.]

and THEN deadfire leaves eora with the wheel broken - and there's no follow-up of what's developed from that in avowed three years later, most likely to just plain avoid spoiling the game lol/having to refer to any concrete 'worldstate.' but if it didn't immediately result in a new spate of hollowborn births (which it could've! people just might not have put the pieces together on that just yet), eventually like. it's not just that life on eora will die out if kith can't figure something out, it's that 'life' on eora will be soulless. which is if anything more existentially terrifying.

and the gods. the fucking gods. their unnatural, engineered birth directly demanded mass death on an inconceivable level. not just the deaths of willing engwithans, but the unwilling ones, too. not just the end of one civilization, but the devastation of the huana who were left completely in the dark about thaos' intent. how could you possibly expect gods who came into being like that to assign any value to mortal life? the gods were born from death; they are, in fact, still actively parasites latched onto the cycle of death and rebirth, which they twisted from its natural existence and bent and hammered to serve their purpose. they were born horrific and unnatural and then they made all birth horrific and unnatural.

[AVOWED SPOILERS FROM HERE ON]

this is why this one avowed note text makes me so crazy like. go make a bloody birth of them. the goddess who presides over childbirth, who came into being from the deaths of thousands of peoples, says: these people are soulless heretics worshipping a false (true) god. Go make a bloody birth of them. (She was a bloody birth!!!) Kill them so they'll be reborn under our control. The Engwithans had to die for our (unnatural) birth; the Ekidans have to die to pay for their god's (natural) birth.

what avowed ends up bringing to the table is the idea that a 'naturally-born god' is, arguably, no less horrific. sapadal, as far as we know, just coalesced into being from essence in the living lands over time. no mass murder required. but whatever horror they were spared in the nature of their creation, they're instead horrific by nature of being something with the power of a god but all the emotional intelligence and self-control of a child. they didn't choose to be born, they didn't have any control over the circumstances. they're innocent, but that doesn't make them any less dangerous. it was terrifying for the engwithans to realize they could find no gods, but it's also terrifying to think that something that powerful could just be born out of nowhere and wreak destruction without understanding any of it. and of course that if you let them they are just as capable of overriding the autonomy and identity of the godlike they created (by accident) (honestly no less horrific than the godlike the other gods made on purpose)

They were real for this.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 20.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Now we're getting into the nitty gritty!! This one might be pretty long, so do forgive me. Because of how long this chapter is, there will not be a story notes at the end! Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 18 / chapter 19

His blood was pumping, heart racing and pounding deep within his chest. Despite the quinjet being in the air, Bucky was pacing back and forth in front of the lockers that were installed on the aircraft. His mind was reeling, anxiety and concern gripping at his mind as flashbacks inched and crawled towards the present part of his mind. The scar that conjoined his flesh to metal was pulsing and itching; a stark reminder of the potential for something to go wrong.

With Wanda up front in the cockpit with Clint and discussing among themselves softly, the only person left within the general area of the quinjet was Sam, who was watching Bucky with pursed lips and a frown. While Sam understood his worry, he was starting to wonder if Bucky's concern was running deeper than general empathy and compassion.

"You're gonna wear a hole into the floor, man, and we don't have enough parachutes."

Bucky's quick quip left his lips without missing a beat, annoyance clear within his tone as he continued to pace.

"Don't need one."

Sam chuckled, asking.

"I'm sure you'd want one at the altitude and speed we're at, Buck."

Bucky gave Sam a glare, shaking his head and wagging a finger at him.

"Nope, you don't get to call me that."

Sam just scoffed, rolling his eyes before he asked, his tone becoming gentler as he observed the way Bucky was starting to become emotionally-charged, his vibranium fingers twitching with the need to fight.

"Come on, man, what's going on? No judgement, no bullshit."

Bucky gave the man a glance, staring at him for a moment. While Bucky and Sam weren't the best of friends and hadn't really connected well, Bucky knew that Sam was coming from a good place. Sam was gentle despite being no-nonsense. Nonetheless, Steve trusted Sam, so in a strange way, Bucky was inclined to trust Sam as well. However, after a moment of thinking about it, Bucky pursed his lips before he shook his head, retreating into himself.

"It's nothing. Not in the mood."

Sam chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head as he adjusted his gauntlets.

"Yeah, no kidding. You've been radiating 'do not engage' since we got on the quinjet."

Bucky couldn't help but to hiss out, his anxiety starting to peak.

"You don't get it, Wilson. Just drop it."

"No, I do get it. You see yourself in her. Same programming. Same kind of trauma. Same thousand-yard stare. But you also know what she needs more than anyone, and right now, she's the safest that she can be in Wakanda."

Bucky finally caved, sitting down across from Sam as he clenched his jaw. Staring at the floor for a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening again, and Sam urged gently.

"Talk to me, man."

Bucky glanced up at Sam before looking away, glancing down at his vibranium arm before he muttered.

"I can't stop thinking about what could go wrong. What if Rollins is already there...just waiting for the right moment? Even if the Director told us the truth, Holloway could have lied to cover his ass."

Sam nodded slightly, thinking over Bucky's words before he replied.

"Well, if you ask me, that's a lot of 'what if's to be thinking about."

The Falcon sat back, resting his arms against the tops of his thighs as he looked at Bucky, watching the way Bucky's brow furrowed. Sam continued, however, testing the waters as he stated.

"You know, maybe you're scared."

Bucky's brow twitched, and he snapped.

"I'm not scared."

Sam shook his head, replying with a raised brow.

"Right. You’re just pacing a groove into titanium flooring and chewing the inside of your cheek like it owes you money."

Bucky gave Sam a dry look, and he muttered.

"You always talk this much before a mission?

Sam smirked, teasing gently.

"Only when you get all moody and tragic. It’s like poking a bear. A very old, very stabby bear."

Bucky tilted his head, asking.

"Do you want to get stabbed? I don't mind giving free hand-outs every now and then."

Sam barked out a laugh, making Bucky roll his eyes and huff.

"See? Back to normal. Warms the heart."

Bucky's jaw clenched, and Sam sighed, becoming serious once more as he regarded Bucky with a stern expression.

"She's going to be alright. She has the best people in the world ready to go to war for her...and she's got you to make sure that she doesn't fall back into that place."

Bucky looked taken back, his body shifting uncomfortably as Sam's words went through his mind. After a moment of silence, Bucky finally opened up just the slightest.

"When...when I was still...the Winter Soldier, there was no way out. There were moments where I was starting to remember, starting to understand that what I was doing was wrong, but when HYDRA would catch wind...they'd take it all away and I'd be left a shell again..."

Bucky shifted, his flesh hand fiddling with his metal one slightly as Sam gave Bucky his undivided attention.

"Then it was just silence...confusion and pain...trying to understand what was happening and if what I was seeing and remembering was real or...or just a nightmare."

Bucky then looked up at Sam with a frown, stating quietly.

"(Y/n) is still in that place...and...and I don't know if I'm the one who can pull her out...if I even have that right when I'm still...when I'm still trying to find out when it all ends...where the Winter Soldier stops and...and James starts."

Bucky's words hung in the air like a reopened wound that was starting to smart and bleed again, and though Sam understood to a degree, he couldn't help but to shake his head and frown. His tone became stern, his eyes never budging from Bucky as his voice commanded the man to look at him.

"You think that you don't have a right to help her? You're the only one who ever could...who can truly understand what that woman needs. You got out of that place fighting tooth and nail, and you won. Bare hands with no map, and you, James, are still here."

Bucky's eyes softened just the slightest, the hammering in his chest slowing as he listened to Sam speak his mind.

"You're the only person that can show her that she doesn't have to be just a Winter Soldier...and you have. You've been helping her more than any of us ever could. I mean, come on, man! You were able to get (Y/n), the real (Y/n), to finally show herself. Do you really not understand how important that is?"

Sam sat forward a bit, pushing and exclaiming with vigor as he spoke.

“Explain to me how you’re the one who got through to her. How you saw past the programming, past the pain, and helped her to start to remember who she was. You think that’s nothing? That’s everything, Bucky."

Bucky couldn't help but to feel emotional, his eyes watering lightly, and he swallowed thickly as Sam eased his words, stating softly.

"Give yourself a little more credit, man."

Bucky stayed quiet, and Wanda came out from the cockpit, squinting slightly as the woman immediately picked up on the atmosphere between the men. Wanda asked, making Sam lean back and look at her.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Nah, we were just finishing up."

Wanda slowly nodded after raising her eyebrow, and she informed the two Avengers.

"We are arriving, and Fury has informed us that his contact and Natasha are waiting. If you are not ready, now is the time to get ready."

Sam nodded, and Bucky stood up, his demeanor becoming guarded and tense once more. Sam glanced at Bucky before stating firmly.

"We're gonna get him, Bucky, don't you worry."

Bucky nodded as the quinjet landed, silent and invisible as it descended into the woods.

"I know. I won't stop until we do."

The quinjet opened, and the Avengers stepped out, Clint shaking his shoulders a little and sighing as he complained.

"I'm not driving back. That was torture, and I'm a bit miffed I didn't get to hear the juicy gossip."

Bucky's face contorted into annoyance before greeting Natasha with a nod of his head as the woman smirked at him.

"Are you ready to give HYDRA the biggest 'fuck you' in over 50 years?"

Bucky's lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling just the slightest as he replied.

"Well, it won't just be for me, but perhaps."

Natasha's lips quirked up with a knowing smirk, sharing a glance with Sam and Wanda before she turned to the unknown man. Bucky immediately began to profile him. The man looked to be an older gentlemen, hair cropped short within CIA regulations and grey hair twinging his temples. He was tall, lean and wiry, and his eyes were a steeled and prominent grey that looked almost white within the moonlight.

Even under the dimness of the night, Bucky could spot a prominent scar on the man's eyebrow; deep and jagged. The man was staring Bucky down just as hard, his jaw squared and looking as though he was...annoyed.

"This is Eli Maddox. He was a SHIELD operative hand-picked by Fury who specialized in liaison between SHIELD and the CIA. Nowadays, he's the senior field officer for the CIA Counter-Terrorism & Unconventional Threats Division...and shadowed asset for what remains of SHIELD."

The man was quiet; few words coming from him except for a nod. Instead of bothering with introductions, he was straight to business, and Bucky liked it.

"You are here for one reason and one reason only: Get Jack Rollins the hell out of my sight and to stop him from retrieving the asset.”

His choice of words-"the asset"-made Bucky tense up, and though Eli noticed, it did not make the man back down nor lessen the blows. Instead, his eyes narrowed at Bucky slightly; sizing him up and profiling him as Eli spoke.

"HYDRA's running out of resources and time, and they are aware that their power is now diminishing. They're staring extinction right in the face. Without the asset, HYDRA knows that they're through."

Eli handed Natasha a blueprint of The Farm while he continued to speak, Natasha immediately inspecting the blueprints and entry points and exit points that Eli had highlighted and circled.

"With the information Fury told me about Rollins, this is prime time for HYDRA to get their hands on (Y/n). While she is free from the Winter Soldier programming, she is still fragile enough for HYDRA to sink their teeth back in and exploit those vulnerabilities. Rollins knows this, and that's why he's infiltrated the CIA in order to gain more information on her and where she could possibly be."

Eli crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly as he spoke.

"Since the Avengers are working with any and all government facilities, Rollins doesn't have to try very hard to get information on where their asset is. The CIA's network is vast, and with the right connections, he’s already got access to classified files that should have never been touched. His infiltration is clean. No one even knows he's involved. He’s been moving under the radar for months"

Sam asked, raising his brow in question as he looked at Eli, the man regarding him with a glance as Sam spoke.

"So, let me ask you this: how did you find out about Rollins?"

"Given my position now and previous experience with SHIELD, I input a system to monitor any internal and satellite communications and transmissions that come in and out of the CIA. Before I found out about Rollins' infiltration, I started to notice a pattern of encrypted communications, anomalous transmissions, unauthorized access to highly-classified files, such as Project Achilles and projects (Y/n) worked on before her capture. I traced these activities back to an instructor that was recently hired a few months ago, and jackpot. Found the rat right in his hole."

Sam nodded before he waved his hand in front of him, eyeing Eli before adjusting his gloves and shifting from foot-to-foot.

“Just so we’re clear: You’re not coming with us.”

Eli shook his head, replying nonchalantly.

“Nope.”

Bucky then raised his eyebrow, affirming as well.

“No backup.”

“You’ve got Barton for that.”

Natasha's voice held a tone of sarcasm, a teasing smirk upon her lips as she asked.

“No plan B, then?”

Eli offered a half-smile to the woman, stating.

“You break in, get what you need, get out. If something goes wrong, you were never there, and I don’t know you.”

Clint grunted, a slight pout on his face.

“Classic spy stuff. I miss the aliens.”

Wordlessly, Eli turned and gestured for the group to follow him as they traversed through the woods. Clint asked in a hush tone, making Wanda chuckle slightly as he poked at Eli.

"So, you know, I'm a bit hurt, Eli. You never responded to any of my texts about brunch!"

Eli replied back crassly, not even gracing Clint with a look.

"The last time 'brunch' ever came out of your mouth, Budapest happened."

Clint guffawed in mock-offense while Natasha grinned. Bucky and Sam shared an exasperated look with each other before perking up as Wanda asked.

"If I may, why exactly are you helping us?"

Eli paused, his eyes darting around the terrain to watch for any possible agents, trainees, or other high-ranked officials that could possibly be passing through the area before he replied quietly.

"Fury called in for a debt to be answered, and I was obliged to answer my duty given that Nick Fury isn't someone you just walk away from. I've been cultivating this front for years, collecting any information on HYDRA that I could since SHIELD. Believe me, I wouldn't be willingly risking my cover if it weren't for what's at stake. If Rollins succeeds, there won't be a career nor cover to be had. Not for me, and not for any of you."

The group fell into silence as Eli gestured toward the barracks, each member ducking behind the treeline while blending into the shadows. Eli’s voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

"This is where Rollins has been holed up. I can trip the security system, but it won’t take long before the Agency knows that you’re here. Get in, grab Rollins, and get out fast."

Everyone nodded, their expressions hardening with purpose. Eli motioned for quiet before slipping toward the back of the barracks where no security camera was in sight. He pulled out a small tablet, his fingers flying over the screen for a moment before he gave the green light.

"Alright, security’s down. Move!"

Without hesitation, the team dashed for the barracks—everyone except Eli, Sam, and Clint. Bucky’s heart pounded as the familiar rush of adrenaline flooded his veins. His breath felt thick in his chest as he slipped into the building, his steps precise and soundless. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Sam launch into the air, his wings a silent blur in the darkness, while Clint blended seamlessly into a nearby tree, the shadows cloaking him completely.

Once inside the barracks, Wanda’s eyes flared crimson as her hands extended, levitating her off the ground. She swept her gaze across the rooms, her powers extending like tendrils into every corner and every mind that was sleeping soundly within. Natasha and Bucky followed closely, their movements as fluid as shadows, silent in their advance as they rushed through.

"I don’t sense him yet."

Wanda’s voice whispered directly into Bucky’s mind. The intrusion sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly glanced at her, disturbed by the telepathic connection. He shared a brief, uneasy glance with Natasha before muttering under his breath.

"He could be on the move already."

Natasha’s voice was light but sharp as she singled Bucky out.

"Do you have to be so negative, Barnes?"

Bucky didn’t respond. His mind was already elsewhere, running through every possible worst-case scenario as they moved deeper into the building. The weight of the mission, of what they were up against, of the possibilities that Rollins was already in Wakanda, was gnawing at him. Wanda, sensing his unease, glanced back at him, her gaze soft but knowing.

"You’re overthinking it."

Bucky huffed but said nothing as they descended into the lower levels of the barracks. The atmosphere grew heavier, the silence thickening around them. Wanda paused, her head turning slightly, her focus honing in. She spoke with a new tension in her voice.

"He’s definitely here… but he’s not alone."

Natasha whispered into Wanda's ear as she looked at the woman with a stern expression, her hand slipping to her gun on her hip.

"Who is he with?"

Wanda frowned before glancing back at her.

"Director Holloway."

Natasha rolled her eyes before muttering.

"Of course. Pigs will always squeal."

Quietly, the group moved to the closed door of the dorm room, kneeling and waiting for the right opportunity. With Bucky's enhanced hearing, he was able to get a front-row seat of the tense and hushed conversation inside.

"I swear, I had no choice! They put me in a-in a corner!"

There was a pause before Director Holloway began to beg, sobs spilling out of the man as his voice dripped with desperation.

"Oh, please...please, Rollins, please...I didn't think that it would turn out this way. I didn't think the Avengers would find out! I don't even know how they did, but...but I can still help you! I can still give you everything that you need to get the asset back. I just...oh god, I don't want to die."

Bucky's face contorted into an angry sneer as he listened, his body instantly reacting to the sound of Rollins' voice as memories and flashbacks began to hit him.

"Do you think you have a choice? You are no longer important. What more could you possibly give when I already have everything I need? Once my asset is back, HYDRA will regain its footing. Control will be established once more, and a perfect new order will arise. If you cannot come to terms with the future HYDRA is cultivating, then you don't deserve to be in the future at all."

The sound of a gun being cocked made Bucky's muscles tense and ready to jump into action as Director Holloway began to plead once more. Wanda finally busted the door down, her eyes glowing brightly as she glared at Rollins. Her hands were bright, seizing control of the gun and shoving it aside before forcing Rollins back into a chair. Director Holloway was shocked, his watering eyes wide, and Rollins seemed genuinely surprised as well.

His eyes darkened the second they landed on Bucky, and Bucky was no better; his demeanor and expression akin to the soldier he used to be. Natasha was quick to raise her gun and hold it to Holloway, who looked frightened by the display as she raised a brow at him. Rollins' voice made Natasha's shoulders square as she glanced at him.

"See? You'll always find your way back to your true home, солдат."

Bucky's teeth were bared as he sneered, his blue eyes dark as he bristled with a desire to kill the man once and for all. His body was deathly still and poised; ready for the final act as the White Wolf began to prowl.

"You don't get to call me that. Not anymore."

Jack smirked, shaking his head as he became cocky; arrogance oozing from his words like rotten syrup.

"Is that what you tell yourself when the nightmares wake you up? When our memories together flash into your mind, or when that fist of HYDRA twitches like it remembers who its' true master is?"

Wanda's fingers danced as the magic around her flared, crackling like a warning as she tightened the hold around Rollins' body painfully. Rollins didn't let any sign of discomfort show except for a twitch of his lips, and Bucky was quick to grab Rollins' by the throat, the man grinning the whole time with delight.

"Tell me what the true plan is. I know you don't want her back just to regain control. The chip, the reactivations...it was all apart of some bigger plan than Project Achilles."

Rollins' didn't respond. Instead, he dodged the question by coughing slightly, his eyes wide with haughty excitement.

"There you are, soldier! Tell me, what’s the plan here, солдат? Rough me up a little? Let the witch rattle my skull? You know better than anyone—I was trained to endure any and all for HYDRA."

Bucky immediately snapped back, his voice low and dangerous as his emotions began to get the best of him, his grip on Rollins' throat tightening more.

"I was trained to kill. You're still breathing because I haven't decided whether or not I want to give (Y/n) the pleasure of ripping you apart or not."

Rollins smirked.

"You think I am afraid of you or her?"

Wanda became impatient, red entering Rollins' head and making him squeeze his eyes shut and hiss out in pain as she forcefully began to scramble his mind before reassembling it.

"Tell us why HYDRA wants (Y/n) back. What are you planning?"

Rollins sneered, but before he could retort, Wanda placed her hands on his head. Like a light switch, Rollins' became complacent; his eyes glazed over as Wanda took control.

"They want to restore faith. You take a ghost, sharpen her edges, and send her into the light—where the world can see what happens when the Avengers fail to protect their own. She’s not just a weapon. She’s a message...a message that HYDRA will always prevail."

Before anybody could react or say anything, Director Holloway cried out softly, shaking within his boots as he clarified.

"HYDRA wanted her on the inside to kill the Avengers. They thought that if they planted her there...used the implanted chip to reactivate her...that reestablishing control would be easy. They didn't realize that Princess Shuri would have been able to cultivate such an effective AI that it would undo everything HYDRA did to program her."

Bucky let Rollins' throat go, turning to the Director and making the man cower as Bucky turned his anger towards him.

"You knew about all of this...you knew (Y/n) and you let this happen to her? You just stood by and watched as HYDRA killed her, remade her, and weaponized her!"

Holloway pleaded quietly.

"Please believe me that I tried! I tried to persuade them...to make them listen to reason, but they didn't care! Her own father cultivated her from the start, don't you understand? (Y/n) existed only for HYDRA...her whole life was fabricated for the purpose of her becoming a new asset! Her schooling, her friends, her job, even her mother knew! Everyone that was a part of (Y/n)'s life knew! The only outlier to it all was Rebecca!"

The familiar name made Bucky stop cold as his sister's face flew through his head, and suddenly, Meltzer Woods made sense. But how was it possible? Holloway looked ashamed, whispering softly.

"Nobody...nobody knew about (Y/n)'s friendship with Rebecca until after it had already begun...(Y/n) had extended family in Shelbyville, Indiana...she was visiting one summer and met Rebecca. But she wasn’t supposed to."

Holloway's lip trembled as Bucky stared him down with such a murderous gaze that Holloway began to shake uncontrollably.

"(Y/n)’s handlers at the time didn’t anticipate the visit—her extended family arranged it independently. It was a loose thread they overlooked. But the two of them clicked, and—God help me—they let it happen. HYDRA thought it would build emotional range. Make (Y/n) more adaptable when the time came to turn her into the Winter Soldier. More believable in a way...but something went wrong."

Holloway was crying now as he sat defeated, covering his eyes as he began to explain more.

"Doris began to get angry and upset...said it wasn't right what we were doing, began to lash out at Robert, and began to start forming a friendship with the Stark's that was jeopardizing the Project. So when Doris tried to run away with (Y/n) under the guise of visiting Baltimore...HYDRA called in their current asset at the time."

Bucky felt his stomach drop, and he started to feel the heat of fire against his face.

'Mom?! Mom, wake up! Mom, please! I...I can't feel my legs...I can't breathe!'

It was undeniably her voice. Bucky could feel the fire crawling over him, and Natasha exclaimed sharply.

"That's enough!"

The damage had already been done, however. Bucky's hearing was becoming static, his breathing quickening, and his eyes were becoming unfocused as the panic began to rise within him. Wanda was quick to respond, forcing him to calm down, and she glanced at Natasha, who was staring Bucky down like a hawk. Holloway continued to speak.

"No matter how many times we wiped her—she remembered Rebecca. That summer. That feeling. It was the only real thing in her life. She never saw her again, but… her mind refused to let it go."

Bucky didn't speak; couldn't with Wanda forcing him into a catatonic state, and he was unresponsive, even as Natasha ordered Wanda with a stern voice.

"Wanda, get these two out of here."

Wanda nodded, and with a flick of her wrists, Bucky and Rollins were forced out of the room and back to the quinjet with Wanda escorting them as quickly and quietly as possible. All the while, Natasha was staring down Holloway, who looked frightened at the darkness that shrouded Natasha's face while her eyes remained cold, calculating, and steady.

"You disgust me. All of this time, you knew, and you did nothing. You observed, rationalized, hid behind the bureaucracy of it all because being complacent was safer than burning the whole thing down. You never tried to stop it, you just tried to stop feeling guilty about it."

She knelt down to Holloways height as the man sputtered, trying to defend himself, but he was quickly silenced by Natasha holding her finger to her lips.

"If neither her or Bucky recover from this...you're not going to either."

Standing up, Natasha quickly left, leaving the man broken and weeping on the floor as the camp began to come to life; alarms blaring and people waking up for the day. Within the nick of time, everyone was back on the quinjet, but the atmosphere was so tense, nobody could speak.

Sam was watching Bucky as Wanda continued to work her magic, keeping him calm and collected as the quinjet took off, and Sam asked quietly.

"Are we going to make him remember this?"

Wanda looked pained, muttering.

"It is not up to us to make him forget. We would be no better than HYDRA if we took his freedom to choose away...even if this is extremely painful for him."

Natasha didn't say anything. She was sitting across from Rollins, toying with a knife within her hands as she fantasized about the different ways she wanted to kill him, and Clint's voice echoed back solemnly.

"The only thing we can do is be there for him and give him time. Find out about everything already fucked him up, but now that he knows he also played a part in this? Man's gonna be down for the count for weeks. We'll ask Steve and Shuri what to do."

The team nodded, and Clint shifted the quinjet into overdrive, eager to get back to Wakanda as soon as he possibly could; nervously glancing at Bucky through the rearview mirror all the while.

-

TRANSLATIONS:

Солдат - Soldat. Russian for 'Soldier'

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