#its always about the fact that you're in controll untill you're not

[prettyflyshyguy]

Hi, me again. Was laughing about the lego minifig lumberjack that suspiciously is wearing the same outfit as the lego minifig werewolf and it resulted in me having the most unhinged thoughts about Supernatural. Again.

Once again my brain is overcompensating for how badly I enjoyed S1-3 and how little I enjoyed season 4 onwards.

Now I have gone on record as being someone who generally prefers the non-comedy episodes of the early seasons (HOWEVER a good comedy episode goes a long way in a dark and gritty series as a refreshing break. I love a sensible chuckle. Look at me.) but hear me out. But for your consideration:

You know the drill. Small town, missing people or animal attack reports, maybe both. Shady shit going on. They're not sure if it's worth the time but they were nearby, or Bobby reckoned it was worth checking out so they swing through town, figure they'll stay a few nights. The place is pretty, out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods. Picturesque and the people are nice. Maybe they could relax a few days while also sussing it out.

They can't immediately determine the cause, which is strange. There's always signs that they can equate to being this or that and "dad's journal" always has an answer. Almost always.

One of them goes out for a late night wander (probably Dean, look I'm predictable, but also it feels fitting - Sam got the demon blood ok) and gets attacked by something in the forest, and returns with a really weird bite mark that looks somewhere between canine and human. There's a bit of panic, yknow "What did it look like?" - "It looked like a werewolf! No not like, a werewolf, like a movie werewolf!"

And they're both freaked because there's a handful of horrible fucked up things that could be, and for most of them a bite is just a normal physical injury and the worst thing he'd have to worry about is rabies - but they test press a silver knife to his skin and.... Nothing. They try a few other on-hand items if they have them, probably some herbs and dried flowers, nothing. So they assume the bite's just. An animal bite.

Fast forward after one very tense day of research and uncomfortable vibes, and the sun goes down. And that's when things go to shit. It's not a full moon, which catches them off guard. Dean starts convulsing and twitching on the motel room floor and Sam is fucking panicking, searching for one of those curse-bag's that witches hide when they want to kill you. Dean has one nasty, gritty, panful transformation into something absolutely horrifying - going for my personal favorite - vaguely resembles human but very much weird wolf-man freak. He keeps his clothes but probably tears them up a bit as he's writhing about in pain. Sam is in shock, holding a machete out in defense trying to gauge the situation, Dean comes to and is just looking around in terror and confusion.

Probably have a stare-off before Sam just goes "... Dean???" and the poor guy cannot talk, can only make horrible throat noises, stumbles into the bathroom to get a look in the mirror and probably freaks out bad. Either bolts out the window in a panic, or bolts out the window cause he heard someone knock on the door hearing the noise of it all.

It's like the wishing well - so its some weird curse or local effect that's making a legend with its own rules become real - werewolves transform each night when the sun sets. There's something about racing against the literal setting sun that tickles me, and the added impact of it being something that requires management and mitigation each day is really fun.

So they have a shitty little time in this weird ass town trying to figure out; what's going on, how do we stop it, and arguing over if they call Bobby and tell him what happened or not.

[webism]

pornstar!choso has a curated look that throws off a lot of his costars. strong build, straight-set face, hands made to choke and tear… most of those he film with don’t expect to be doted on the entire time.

people joke that pornstar!choso falls a little bit in love with every costar he fucks or gets fucked by. that glossy look that always pulls at his face by the time a scene ends, how his lip trembles with a need to be kissed raw when he cums. he says it's just the bliss of his orgasm—that he gets emotional in the moment, but it doesn't mean anything. well, until he meets you.

pornstar!choso who looks you up before his shoot because your name sounded vaguely familiar when it left his agents lips. he could have sworn you'd fucked before, because when he rolls the syllables of your name on his tongue they're nostalgic and taste like the sweat and laboured breaths of a long night between satin sheets. had you shot a scene together before? or had it been a one night stand?

pornstar!choso who realises that no, he hadn't slept with you before. but the familiarity of your name isn't a coincidence—he's fucked his fist to your videos more times than he can count. your name hits him like lightning, he had typed it into his search bar late in the night, cock hard and in need of instant relief. it's almost scary how well he knows you, what sounds you make when you get close to cumming, how you often arch your back and try to run from the overwhelming pleasure, how your eyebrows knit together when you're feeling so good it almost hurts.

pornstar!choso who realises with a now-red face that you probably don't have a clue who he is, and yet he's cum in time with you for months now. he's pretty sure he's drained his wallet at least twice on your cam shows... what if you recognise his name and piece it together with his username that he donates under? he debates cancelling the shoot, faking covid to get some time at home to hate himself endlessly.

but pornstar!choso realises that this is his chance to get to know how you really feel. he's imagined it so many times, as he fucked fake pussies or his closed fist using spit or his own cum as lube. you'd be warmer, undoubtedly tighter... so much prettier. and he wants to know more: would you prefer to take control and turn him into the toys he so often pretends are you? would you lay back all pretty and let him ruin you on his cock? how deep could you take him he knows he's big but you seem so eager, would you take him to the base with ease or would he have to force it in? bully your pretty pussy until it stretches to his shape?

pornstar!choso who hates the fact that your first, and possibly only, time together would be in front of a production crew and under the unsympathetic lights of a porn set. but he'd fuck on a stage in front of thousands if it means a taste of you.

pornstar!choso who makes it to the shoot before you do, comes ten minutes early to settle his anxieties and get a feel for the scene ahead. the director tells him its a simple shoot, that choso is meant to let you ride him for a while until you pull off and suck his cock for a nice close-up facial shot. the way the director speaks so clinically about sex with you makes choso grimace, he feels pathetic for feeling like this. like he'll be a changed man after feeling you around his cock, which is already painfully hard.

pornstar!choso who hates himself for stumbling over his words when he meets you. he wishes he had never looked you up, though he doesn't doubt seeing your pretty face like this would have wrecked his confidence regardless. you're kind, greet him with a shy smile as if he isn't about to slip balls deep inside of you.

pornstar!choso who, once he has you sitting on top of him on that bed—cameras pointed dutifully as you start to play your role and hike your skirt up so you can sink down on his cock—he can't handle the thought of fucking you like it's nothing, like it's not been the crux of his fantasies in the dark hours at night.

pornstar!choso who, probably to the detriment of his career, pushes you backwards onto the bed and connects his lips to yours in a kiss that surpasses every single fantasy he's had in his mind. you taste good, and he wants more. he speaks against your lips, asks whines a question that makes your stomach coil. 'can i eat you out first? please?'

pornstar!choso who is chided by the production team as he gets his head under your skirt and laps at your pussy in the most desperate act of need he thinks he's ever displayed. those that claim he falls in love with each shoot would be wholly correct in this case: he is in love with the taste of you, with the way your legs trap him in and ask for more. he could eat you for hours, run his tongue from your clit to dip it inside of you in reverence of the goddess he believes you to be. and you laugh at the absurdity of his hunger, at the courage it takes to run off script, and the pure need in which he eats you out.

pornstar!choso who only stops once the director threatens to cut the scene entirely. his cock hurts with how hard it is though, and he thinks the redirection of blood has made him lightheaded, because when he's made to sit back and let you sink down onto his length he swears he meets god.

pornstar!choso who can't help his whines as you ride him, an addiction already laying down roots in his brain. he has to try and think of anything less godly than you to hold on to his orgasm though, because the combination of your body and having subconsciously trained himself to associate you with climaxing is all too strong, and he's a hairs breadth away from cumming prematurely and ruining the scene.

pornstar!choso who realises as you continue, however, that your moans arent the same as he's heard them before, though the speakers of his phone. you're more breathy with him, your moans are less honeyed, more raw—as if coming from your chest rather than your throat. he wonders for a moment if he's not good enough, if you're having to fake your pleasure to save face for the cameras. but you're soaked, and even above the sounds of your shared pleasure he can still hear the squelch of his cock rutting in and out of you.

but before pornstar!choso can question himself further, your eyes are widening and you're latching a hand onto his throat as your pace increases. he can feel the way you tighten impossibly around him, the way your hips stutter and your pupils blow out with lust—you're cumming. and of course he remembers his instructions, to let you climb off of him and take his load over your face... but you're not climbing off of him.

pornstar!choso who understands the pointed look you manage to give him, that it's your turn to bypass the scene direction. you want to be greedy, to feel him finish inside of you, even through the confines of a condom. your moans arent fake, they're the first real ones you've let sound on a porn set—and choso is pulling them from your lungs like a choir's conductor.

pornstar!choso who can't last a minute longer, now with the way you lean in and coax him to climax with your voice, the soft praise that leaves your lips is an aphrodisiac and all too powerful. he sees stars when he cums, full blown galaxies too complex to imagine. call it an out-of-body experience or not, but choso is lost in his orgasm for long enough to warrant you bringing him back down with a soft kiss to his lips. he looks sinful: his hairs come loose, messy and stuck to his forehead. his eyes, though, are what's going to be the subject of a few screenshots taken by his fans: he looks totally infatuated.

pornstar!choso who, after taking a few minutes to settle himself after the shoot, watches as you walk over to him, a very pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips before you lean down and peck his lips goodbye. he assumes it's the last he'll see of you, that there's no way he's worthy of every tasting you again. that night, he's scared to brush his teeth, to lose the way you linger on his tongue.

pornstar!choso who debates fucking his fist to the memory of you in bed that night. he thinks you've ruined masturbation for him, or sex in general: nothing could quite be the same. and as if its a sign from god that he's done enough good in his life to deserve some positive karma, his phone dings.

a photo of you, a pretty vibrator laid over your stomach. your laptop open in the background, his porn playing on the screen.

attached, a message that makes the poor boy cum in his pyjama bottoms. 'lets meet up again. i want to tie you up and film how stupid you get with a vibe strapped to your cock—a movie just for us, though. no audience.'

pt 2 in the works :p

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

[s0dium]

THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY

JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS

A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso

Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing

~

Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  

Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things

The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on

But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through

He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything

This includes what goes on in bed.

And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste

At least he can be nice about it sometimes

Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.

"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.

Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.

"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.

Geto Suguru -Controlling

It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?

Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.

And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.

Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.

"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.

Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.

"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed

You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta

Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated

But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross

From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.

Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.

Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist

Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.

Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.

Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.

You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.

Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though

Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.

"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.

Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.

"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."

Choso- Jealous 

Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.

But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.

Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?

He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.

He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.

How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?

You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.

You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.

“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.

“You wanna cum? Good, cum."

[suiana]

yandere! parasite who decides to inhabit your body after observing you from his previous host. you're so cute! you'll definitely be a lot more comfortable to be in over this... fumbling fool that's obsessed with you.

the switch is seamless and you don't even realize that you have a parasite in you until he speaks.

you were stunned, where did this voice come from? you look around you, thinking your boss or coworker had called for you... only for the face of a... translucent and handsome looking man to appear right in front of you.

"hey!"

"what the- where did you come from? wait a minute who even are you?"

"you're so silly. isn't it obvious that i'm a parasite and you're my host?"

"a... parasite?"

you freak out, thinking you have brain eating worms in you as you break down in the middle of your job. fortunately, the lovely parasite in you takes the time to comfort you through your brain.

he tells you that he won't kill you and that he's a symbiotic parasite. that he'll just co-exist with you for as long as you live. that he won't interrupt your life whatsoever, he just needs a place to stay, you know?

at least that's what he tells you and himself.

unbeknownst to him, he had... unfortunately adopted certain characteristics from his previous host. and what did that include? his obsession of course.

he doesn't notice it at first. he was just acting like his normal self, observing your day to day life for about a month or two while interacting happily with you through brain messages. everything was fine and dandy! nothing out of the ordinary for the both of you except for the fact that you now had a parasite in your brain.

and he was quite useful actually! improving your health, boosting your physical strength and stuff... it was so freaking cool! you never knew you could do all these things!

plus, he was so sweet! you two were definitely like a pair of really good friends even if you just met a month or two ago! he's just perfect!

that was, until he saw someone confessing to you.

he didn't understand what was going on. why did his chest tighten up at the sight of some other person confessing their love to you? why does he feel a sudden rush of... anger?

he turns to watch what you do and he swears he only feels more anger at how you react. cheeks flushed, pupils dilated...

no, he couldn't have that.

meanwhile, you were totally flattered by the sudden confession. especially when it was from this cute nerd from the IT department! maybe you'll accept- wait, wait, wait! why was your body moving on its own?!

"you belong to me."

the parasite in your brain mumbles as you lose all control of your body and begin walking away from your admirer. what the?! he's never done this before! why's he taking control of your body?!

"hey! give my body back!"

"how could you do this to me? i am hurt, my dear host."

you couldn't even respond, too shocked to even say anything before you try to resust again. obviously it wouldn't work but it doesn't hurt to try.

"hey cut it out! i thought you said we're just living together? what's this? you totally messed up my chances of getting with someone!"

you were about to snap back when you feel a cold dread creep up your spine. shit, you forgot he could control everything in your body.

you could only watch in horror as he brings your body back to your apartment before he forces your body onto your bed. his translucent body appears in your vision once more, pinning you to the bed. you couldn't even resist even if you tried. he controlled your brain after all.

"you're my host, therefore, you are mine. i do not understand what's so hard to understand."

gritting your teeth, you could only allow this parasitic admirer of yours to stare down at you while grinding his hips into yours. damn, what's he trying to-

"hah... you're so cute... i love you so much... can i explore you? I'm so curious. I've always looked away when you were bare but..."

you couldn't even say no if you tried. your body was responding on its own. damn it! his brain controlling abilities were too good! maybe you should be a parasite in your next life.

"ah... is that a yes? god, i love you. i love you, i love you... i love you so much my darling host."

...

were you about to have mental sex with the parasite living in your body right now?!

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 3/?)

The fire consumes everything it touches, turning what was into ashes. Curiously, Silco also leaves a trail of destruction in his wake.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, dirty talk, degradation, public sex, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, creampie, blood and violence, biting, threat of death, choking, canon-typical Silco violence, death of secondary characters being referenced, possessive behavior, you work in the brothel, Silco POV (when to start smut). Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 1 Part 2

Pay attention to the tags. If you're uncomfortable with violent situations or explicitly intense acts, PLEASE DO NOT READ. Once again: this is NOT a fluffy romance. Our protagonist has her own issues, and to be clear, while there are violent themes, Silco would never harm his dove. You have been warned—proceed at your own risk.

"I heard that Silco seems to be sponsoring a prostitute."

The bottle on its way to your lips stopped midway. Kate's words echoed like thunder, even though they had been spoken in an almost murmured tone. Nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for a sentence like that, not even the most horrible, bitter drink Zaun had to offer.

Beside you, Kate seemed almost uncomfortable. There was no accusation in her voice, but something about her tone overflowed with sadness, perhaps even anguish. The kind of look that made it clear she already knew the answer even before making the statement. She still insisted on visiting you, despite the apparent control Silco had over the brothel.

The brothel, which until two months ago had been your refuge—a place where the outside world and all its horrors were muffled by artificial lights and drunken laughter—now felt more like a prison. A suffocating space filled with glances you didn't want to interpret. That's why, on the night Kate showed up, you suggested going somewhere else. Somewhere Silco's shadow didn't hang over you.

Vander's statue was a landmark. For many, it symbolized the resistance and hope that had long since vanished. A kind of silent guardian of Zaun, a reminder of better days. Some people even wished the metal structure would come to life, that Vander would return to protect his people. But to you, that monument meant something deeper. Vander had saved you once. You'd made a promise to him—a promise you had yet to fulfill.

"Yeah... I heard about it."

"It's you, isn't it?" Kate shot back immediately. Her voice was soft, almost delicate, like a confirmation rather than an accusation.

You couldn't look at her. The thought of being called Silco's prostitute made something inside you churn, heavy as lead. Dealing with him in the privacy of a room was one thing, but carrying that title... it made you feel dirty in a way no amount of long baths could wash away.

"How did you find out?"

Kate sighed, fiddling with the ballerina pendant on her necklace. She always did that as a way to calm herself, an almost involuntary motion. "I did my research."

"You should've been a cop, not a designer." you tried to joke, but the humor fell flat, hanging in the air with no response, no laughter. Kate didn't take the bait. She simply said your name, with a sweetness that hurt, like she was trying to soothe a wounded animal. Reluctantly, you finally looked at her. That's when you noticed the worry etched into her green eyes, a worry you didn't feel you deserved.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice hoarse, almost harsh. "It could be worse. Silco could've just kidnapped me."

"That doesn't change the fact that you're still in danger."

You let out a low grumble, almost childish, like a petulant kid trying to dodge a scolding. She was right, but you preferred to live in ignorance.

"If I figured out who the 'prostitute' was, others can too. And if the chemical barons realize Silco has any interest in you, they'll try to use you to get to him."

"I know how to protect myself, Kate."

"From pickpockets and creeps, maybe. Not from assassins."

"Alright, what do you want me to do?"

The words escaped your mouth with force, your voice laced with irritation, hitting a sharper tone than you'd usually use with her. You stood from where you'd been sitting at the foot of Vander's statue, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control. But, if you were honest with yourself, the idea that you still had control was a cruel joke. Overnight, your life had taken a turn you hadn't planned for—or asked for. To say you were angry would've been a massive understatement. And now Kate was pressing all the wrong buttons.

"Come with me to Piltover."

Her voice was firm, serious, but there was something more. A kind of unshakable hope glimmered in her green eyes as they locked onto yours, as if she could see something you couldn't. And there was something else... something that made your stomach twist. Affection. "Alright, so the place I'm staying in is the size of a shoebox," Kate continued, a small, awkward smile appearing on her lips, "But we can make it work together. Silco has no power in Piltover."

Those words. That tone. That damn hope. They doused your anger like a bucket of ice water. What remained was pure, raw shock as you stared into her emerald eyes. You saw it. The resolve. The conviction. And damn it, she was willing to risk everything... for you. Suddenly, it all made sense: why she kept coming back, even knowing the risk. Even indirectly challenging Silco. Because, in her mind, you were worth it.

Kate spoke your name again when she noticed your mind wandering for too long, her tone sweet as honey. "Please, come with me."

At some point, the lines had blurred for Kate, and considering Silco's actions, this practically put her neck on a silver platter. Bile rose in your throat, and you wanted to vomit.

"It's better if we don't see each other anymore." your voice came out dry, cutting. The tone was rehearsed, even if you hadn't prepared these words. You took a step back, putting space between the two of you. "Whatever you think we have, it's nothing more than professional."

Kate's eyes widened, shock written across her face as if you'd slapped her. The pain that followed nearly made you falter, but you pressed on. You had to, for her sake.

"I can't believe you're naive enough to think I feel something for you, let alone want to run away."

"What?" Kate whispered, her voice barely audible, but you saw it. You saw her eyes start to glisten with tears.

"I pity you." your voice was a venomous whisper. "Falling for a prostitute? Seriously? Kate, I expected better from you."

"Why are you acting like this?" her voice trembled, heavy with pain. "This isn't you."

"What do you know about me?" you shot back, your voice as sharp as shattered glass. "Oh, come on, sweetheart... it was all an act. Did you really think I cared? It was in my best interest to keep some naive girl paying my way. All I had to do was say a few sweet words."

She called your name again, her voice breaking, a final, desperate attempt to pull you back from the edge. A futile attempt.

"But now I don't need you anymore."

You saw it. The exact moment the first tear slipped from her eyes, just before Kate turned and ran. Without another word. Without looking back.

You stood there, motionless, like an extension of Vander's statue. Frozen. Empty. Guilt weighed on your shoulders like lead, but you didn't allow yourself to feel anything beyond the void. If Silco was horrible, you were a monster. Maybe that's what you deserved. Maybe, in the end, you and he were cut from the same cloth.

But your self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

"Breaking hearts, are we?" Silco's voice resonated in your ears, low and dripping with acidic humor. "And here I thought you were the merciful one."

The surprise lasted only a second when you heard his voice—low, laden with that familiar arrogance that made the air around you feel heavier. For a moment, you almost believed it was just in your head, a ghost of guilt or confusion tormenting you. But a single glance was enough to confirm it wasn't your imagination. Of course not. It was obvious Silco would know where to find you.

Especially since you'd abandoned the brothel in the middle of your shift. Someone had likely informed him that his latest acquisition had walked out unexpectedly.

The scent of burnt tobacco hit you before you fully saw him, and you closed your eyes briefly, trying to control the surge of emotions bubbling up inside you. Anger, frustration, maybe even a touch of resignation. You inhaled deeply, as if the tobacco in the air could numb whatever was consuming you. But it was futile.

The bottle was still in your hand—a bitter consolation. You lifted it to your lips, letting the liquid burn its way down your throat. The mediocre alcohol was doing its job but was nowhere near enough to drown out the chaos in your head.

"How long have you been spying on us?" your voice came out calmer than you'd expected, a stark contrast to how you felt inside.

It was impressive, even to yourself. You should've been furious; after all, everything in your life had started crumbling because of him. Because of his manipulations, the insidious control he wielded over everyone and everything around him. The last month had been hell, and Silco had been the chief architect of your downfall.

And yet, here you were. Talking to him. Not smashing the bottle over his head.

"Long enough to understand what you're trying to do." he finally said. His voice was calm, but it carried an undertone of subtle disdain, as if the situation were almost amusing to him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Silco move slowly, leaning against the base of Vander's statue. He crossed one ankle over the other, assuming a relaxed posture that seemed devoid of any threat. But you knew better. Beneath the casual façade, there was an almost palpable tension, like that of a snake ready to strike at any moment.

"Driving her away, keeping her safe... all so I have no reason to go after her." he continued, his eyes boring into your back, savoring each syllable in a way that sent a chill down your spine. "Such nobility on your part. A shame it's all for nothing."

The words hung in the air between you, as dense as the cigar smoke swirling around him. You wanted to retort, but your throat went dry, the words catching somewhere between pride and fear. He knew. He knew exactly what you were doing. And worse, he seemed to find it amusing.

Without warning, he pushed off the statue and took a step toward you, closing the already narrow gap between you. Your heart leapt in your chest, but you stayed rooted to the spot, your hands gripping the neck of the bottle, channeling your fury into the inanimate object.

He noticed. Of course, he noticed.

"Drinking won't make it go away." he said, his voice now almost gentle. Almost. The soft tone only made the harshness of his words cut deeper.

You barely had time to process the emotions boiling within you when Silco reached out and took the bottle from your grasp. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your fingers stretching out in a nearly desperate attempt to reclaim it. But he held it out of your reach with an ease that made your blood boil.

Your gaze locked onto his, and like a thread on the verge of snapping, you finally broke. It was as if everything you'd been holding back had been unleashed all at once, a storm of emotions sweeping away any control you had left. Before you could even think about the consequences, your body had already made the decision.

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the space, the liquid spilling onto the floor in a dense pool alongside the faint clatter of the cigar falling. A small fire ignited mere inches from your feet. It was that sound, along with the smell of smoke, that finally pulled you back to reality.

Your arm was raised, caught firmly in Silco's grasp. His fingers wrapped around your wrist with enough force to stop you but not to hurt. You realized just how close you were to his face—mere centimeters away from striking him.

And that's when you saw it: his face. For the first time, Silco looked genuinely surprised, frozen in place. His good eye was wide, as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. It was almost impossible to imagine a man like him with such an expression. But the moment didn't last. Like a mask falling and quickly being replaced, his expression shifted in an instant. The shock gave way to his familiar façade of coldness and absolute control.

You, however, didn't back down. There was no regret in your eyes, no hesitation in your movements. Your emotions were a haze, but you kept them locked behind a hardened, defiant expression.

"Leave her out of this, Silco!" you said, your voice low but carrying a weight that cut through the silence like a blade. The words were laden with something you couldn't quite name—anger, sorrow, perhaps something deeper. "I'm the one you want? Well, here I am, right in front of you."

The words hung in the air, echoing in the space between you. Silco didn't respond immediately, but his eyes didn't leave yours, as if he were analyzing every nuance of your expression. Searching for something—maybe doubt, maybe fear.

In a swift, precise movement, he pulled you forward, erasing the distance between you until your body was pressed against his. The heat radiating from you was palpable, even through the layers of clothing, and the subtle scent of alcohol mixed with your perfume filled his senses, igniting something you couldn't quite interpret.

His other hand moved just as firmly, gripping your chin with enough force that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The touch was almost rough, a blend of control and anger that reverberated through you down to your bones. Silco's mismatched eyes burned with a fierce intensity, so piercing it seemed impossible to look away.

"Don't test me." he growled, his voice low and laced with latent danger. "My patience has its limits."

And then, with calculated abruptness, he let you go. The movement was so sudden that you almost stumbled backward. He stepped away, creating space between you as if he needed to regain composure, though his arrogant demeanor remained intact.

"What are you going to do?" your head tilted slightly to the side, your tone laden with challenge. "Kill me?"

You weren't naive. His threats weren't empty words. You knew Silco was holding himself back—why exactly, you weren't sure. Perhaps it was the mounting tension between you, an invisible thread that seemed to pull you closer to something as destructive as it was inevitable. Anyone else who dared to attack him would have already lost an arm, or worse.

And yet, you didn't back down.

"Or maybe with me, it's different." your voice dropped to a sharp whisper as you took another step forward, so close you could feel the heat of his breath. "Because you know, Silco, that no matter how much you threaten me, I doubt you have the guts to actually do anything to me."

Silco's eyes narrowed at your words.

"You think you know me, don't you?" he shot back, his voice laced with disdain. "You think you understand what I want, what I'm capable of."

"Then tell me if I'm wrong."

It was you who closed the distance between the two of you, ignoring the crunch of glass shards beneath your feet with each step or even the crackling fire nearby. The phantom of his grip still burned on your wrist, but you didn't rub it. You wouldn't show weakness—not now.

Every muscle in his body seemed tense, ready to strike, but he didn't move. He didn't raise a hand to push you away, nor did he take a step back. Instead, he let you approach, let you bridge the gap until you were so close you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

"You're right. With you, things are... different." he admitted, his voice now almost regretful, as though confessing something he hated to admit even to himself. "But don't be mistaken. I'm still the man who built an empire on blood and fear, and I wouldn't hesitate to remind you of that if necessary."

The shadows cast by the light made Silco's silhouette even more intimidating. His orange eye seemed to pierce into your very soul, devouring you, like staring into the abyss and having it stare back.

"Go home." his face was mere inches from yours, close enough for you to see every line, every scar etched into his marked skin. He was trying to maintain composure; that much was clear. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

You raised your chin, your body radiating a fierce pride that defied any implicit threat in Silco's words. Any sense of self-preservation had already been smothered by the chaotic mix of emotions boiling inside you: burning anger over Kate's situation, frustration with Silco's manipulations, and, above all, the overwhelming attraction clouding your judgment.

You knew you were tempting fate at this point, provoking the beast, pushing Silco to a dangerous edge. But honestly? You didn't care. Maybe, deep down, a part of you wanted to see how far he would go, how much he could tolerate your words before finally losing control.

"I didn't think a simple fuck would destabilize the great Eye of Zaun this much." your voice dripped with sweet venom, every word as sharp as a blade. You saw the muscle in Silco's jaw tighten, and it only fueled your audacity, like pouring gasoline on a fire. "A whore was enough to make you lose your grip... how pathetic."

The words came out drenched in scorn, and you savored every syllable as though you were exposing an open wound, pouring salt on it with relish.

You barely had time to react before you were slammed against the wall, the cold surface digging into your back with force. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and before you could even try to recover, Silco's hand was at your throat, squeezing just enough to send a wave of panic coursing through your entire body. Your mouth opened instinctively, searching for the little air you could manage to pull in, your chest rising and falling in short, desperate movements.

Your hands shot upward, but not to fight him—you knew that would be useless. Instead, you grasped his wrist, your fingers digging into his skin with force, your nails leaving small marks. The touch was deliberate, as if trying to remind him that you would still fight back, even if the odds weren't in your favor.

"You want to know what's pathetic?" he growled, his voice low and dripping with menace. "You." his thumb pressed firmly against the pulse point on your neck, feeling the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat beneath your skin. "I could snap your pretty neck and leave your body here for the rats to feast on."

The words were cold, cutting like steel against your skin, but there was something else beneath them. A suffocating heat seemed to hang between you, an almost palpable field of tension. It was dark, twisted—a desire that seemed to want to consume you both. Your breaths mingled in the closeness, a suffocating dance of anger and something more, something neither of you was willing to admit.

"Keep talking." he murmured, his voice dripping with dangerous, lascivious undertones. "I want to hear what insults that pretty mouth of yours will throw at me."

Your body betrayed you in the worst possible way. The initial fear that had tensed your muscles began to shift, the adrenaline coursing through you dulling the pain and heightening every sensation. Your heart pounded in your ears, each beat echoing like a warning of how precariously your life hung in his grip. But it wasn't just fear making your heart race—it was him.

Silco was close. Too close. His body practically covered yours in that position. His scent filled your senses, erasing any remnants of rational thought. His eyes burned into yours, that hypnotizing contrast—one eye filled with the intensity of anger, the other an empty abyss, equally devastating.

And then you saw it in those piercing mismatched irises. Hidden beneath the anger. An unmistakable flicker of desire. It was raw, overwhelming, and dangerously familiar. You recognized it because you felt the same. Your body seemed to plead against your will, the proximity igniting something dark and unspoken between you.

Your lips parted, and the words slipped out in a rough whisper before you could stop them.

"I hate you."

Your voice broke, but not from weakness. There was weight in it, a hatred so dense it seemed to poison the air around you—a hatred for everything he was and for everything he made you feel. A hatred for him, but perhaps an even deeper hatred for yourself, for wanting him despite knowing how wrong it was. You hated him. You wanted him. And in that moment, it was impossible to tell where one feeling ended and the other began.

Silco's fingers tightened around your throat just enough to send another wave of alarm through your body. His eyes—those mismatched irises that burned with something dark and ravenous—studied you intently. A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, revealing the jagged edges of his teeth, a threat and a twisted invitation all at once.

"I know you do, dove."

He leaned in closer, the distance between you shrinking until his nose brushed against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the scarce space separating your lips. Silco's free hand moved upward, gripping your jaw firmly, though his thumb traced the delicate line of your cheekbone with an almost cruel gentleness. It was a stark contrast to the strength of his grip around your throat, and that duality sent heat coursing through your veins.

He pressed his body even closer against yours, pinning you completely against the cold wall, as if he wanted to crush you there, as if he wanted to make sure you had nowhere to escape—as if you belonged to him. Every inch of his presence was overwhelming, suffocating. You felt the weight of his thigh shift, sliding between your legs and applying an unrelenting pressure that stole any breath you had left in your lungs.

And then he claimed your lips.

It was a shock—a collision as overwhelming as the shove against the wall. His lips crashed into yours with a force that shattered any remnants of resistance you might have had. There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was raw, primal, a clash of teeth, tongue, and desire that had been restrained for far too long. He kissed you as if he wanted to devour you, as if every part of you needed to be consumed until there was nothing left but him.

You tried to regain control, but there was no space for it. He allowed no room for anything but his all-encompassing presence, the way he took everything you were, claiming the right to possess every piece of you. His fingers around your throat tightened—not enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you aware of his power, enough to make you feel it.

His touch was possessive, almost as if he were branding you, inscribing his presence onto you in a way that no one else could erase. And as he deepened the kiss, you realized, with a mix of anger and fascination, that he was getting exactly what he wanted.

Your hands, which had been gripping his wrists in a desperate gesture, slid downward to clutch at the rough fabric of his vest. You pulled him closer, ignoring the pain that radiated through your body. There was something strangely comforting in the brutality of his touch.

The kiss wasn't a gesture of affection; it was a collision of wills, a clash of searing fury and uncontrollable desire. It was a war with no victors, only the promise of mutual destruction. You matched his every advance with equal intensity, every bite and scratch an attempt to wound him, to leave your mark on him just as he was leaving his on you.

It was twisted, and you knew it. The hatred you felt for him was intoxicating, burning inside you like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. But what was worse—and you hated to admit it—was the fact that a part of you wanted this. You found a strange solace in the shared violence, as though, in some perverse way, it was the only truth between you. This contained violence was a language you both understood perfectly.

Your teeth sank into his lip with force, and the metallic taste of blood spread between you before he finally pulled back. "You don't own me." you whispered breathlessly, resting your forehead against his.

His hand slid down, gripping your thigh with bruising strength as he hitched it up to his waist. You gasped, feeling the hardness of him against you, a visceral reminder of how much he wanted you. Silco pressed his body even closer to yours, the cold wall at your back seeming to vanish against the searing heat of him in front of you.

"Not yet, dove. Not yet."

Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

Silco chuckled darkly at her feeble attempt to slap him again, his eyes glinting with humor as he once again grabbed her wrist. However, he released her grip without much resistance, watching curiously as her hands slid downward once they were free. He reveled in the way her hands shook as she fumbled with the clasps on his pants, anger and desperation rolling off her in waves and clouding her ability to complete a simple action that she could do even with her eyes closed.

He grabbed her hands, stilling their movements. With deliberate slowness, he guided them to the fastenings of his trousers, showing her how to undo the clasps and zippers. His hands covered hers, helping her slide the fabric down enough to free him, revealing the hard length of him, already straining towards her.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he felt her fingers brush against him, the slightest touch sending sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. He was so hard it almost hurt, his cock throbbing with need. He wanted to bury himself inside her, to claim her in the most primal way possible.

But first, he had other plans. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her thighs, lifting her effortlessly until she was wrapped around his waist. He pinned her against the wall, the rough brick scraping against her back. His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt out of the way, revealing the lacy edge of her stockings.

"Look at you," his mocking tone, as if he were not equally thirsty. "So desperate for it, so needy. You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could see?"

He rocked his hips forward, grinding his hardness against her core dress. The friction made them both gasp, pleasure sparking through their veins. Silco's hands slid higher, cupping her ass, kneading the firm flesh.

"I should make you beg for it." the whisper left his lips, his breath hot against her ear. But even as he said it, he knew he wouldn't. He was too far gone, too consumed by the need to have her. Right there, at that exact second.

"Don't you dare." her voice tried to be threatening, Silco realized, but at that moment her threat sounded more like a plea than anything else. "Otherwise I..."

"Otherwise, what? You are not in a position to make demands."

Despite his words, she did what she always did. She ignored him. Her eyes rolled back with a boldness only she could muster as she brought her fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out to wet each one before returning them back down. She fingered him, spitting, with some difficulty due to the awkward angle. Silco's head fell forward, falling onto her shoulder as she continued to pump him. His hands returned to her thighs, adjusting his grip to keep them steady. Then when she adjusted him against her entrance, Silco couldn't help but hold his breath.

The sensation was almost too much to bear, the tight grip of her walls around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He gritted his teeth, fighting back a groan as she sank down onto him, inch by torturous inch. For God's sake, how he missed that.

But even as his body reveled in the feel of her, his mind was racing with dark thoughts. This wasn't lovemaking, not by a long shot. This was a fuck, plain and simple, a coming together of two people driven by anger and lust and a desperate need to hurt each other. It was twisted and wrong and so fucking good that it terrified him.

His hands gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her down onto him, burying himself as deep as he could go. The angle was brutal, almost painful, but it only served to fuel the fire raging inside him.

He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against hers with a force that made her cry out. Each thrust was a declaration of ownership, a physical manifestation of the dark hunger that consumed them both. He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside her that made her writhe, that had her clawing at his clothes and screaming his name.

"Mine." his voice murmured, more to himself than to her. It wasn't a statement of possession meant to irritate her, since she seemed so absorbed in her own pleasure that she didn't even notice the words leaving his lips.

His hands slid up her thighs, gripping her tightly as he thrust into her, his movements hard and fast. Silco could feel her body tensing above him, could hear the way her breath hitched in her throat as she neared her peak. The knowledge that he was the one pushing her to this point, that he was the one making her lose control, filled him with a sense of satisfaction. He wanted to break her, to shatter her in a way that only he could, so, remake her in his image.

But even as he thought it, he knew it would be an almost impossible task. She would never give in to him. Not easily. She was too wild, too defiant, too stubborn to be tamed. And God help him, but that was what attracted him. That fire, that passion, that refusal to submit even in the face of his worst brutality. It called to something deep within him, something he'd thought long dead.

That's why he wanted to try. Someone who had been a revolutionary was anything but someone who gave up easily.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, his mismatched eyes boring into hers with an intensity that bordered on frightening. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with lust and something else, something darker that he couldn't quite name. It unsettled him, the way she looked at him, like he was her salvation and her damnation all rolled into one.

He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. He bit down hard, leaving a bruise in the shape of his teeth. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, mixing with the salt of her sweat. It was a heady combination, one that made his head spin and his cock throb with need.

And then she was coming, her walls clamping down around him like a vice. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the rhythmic squeezing of her muscles pushing him over the edge. He let out a guttural groan, his hips losing their rhythm as he spilled himself inside her, filling her with his seed.

For a moment, they were frozen in place, their bodies locked together in the aftermath of their release. Silco could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hands, could hear the ragged sound of her breathing as she tried to catch her breath. And for a fleeting second, he wondered what it would be like to hold her like this, to wake up next to her and see her sleep-tousled hair spread out on the pillow.

Well, if everything went the way he planned he would see this scene.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━ 

The post-climax sensation that always followed those moments left you vulnerable, as if every layer of yourself had been stripped away, leaving you exposed and defenseless. This time was no different, though the intensity was greater. It had been quick, physical—an explosion of mutual rage converted into something far more primal.

Your body ached, especially your back. The constant friction against the rough wall during the act had taken its toll. And yet, there was no regret. You had wanted it—the brutality, the intensity, the force. Silco's body also bore the signs of weariness; you could feel it in the way he leaned against the wall, seeking support for both himself and for you. His arms still held you, firm but no longer tense—just enough to keep you close.

His arms tightened around your waist for a moment, holding you firmly against him as if trying to prolong the contact, before slowly lowering you back to the ground. Even then, he kept one arm around your waist, his open hand pressed against the curve of your lower back, steadying you until the trembling in your legs subsided. No words were spoken.

After what felt like an eternity, you began adjusting your clothes. Each movement was mechanical, automatic, as though your mind had shut off, unable to process what had just happened. Across from you, Silco did the same.

Without the sexual intensity or the anger that had dominated the air minutes ago, the silence now felt even heavier. A kind of emptiness that made room for dangerous thoughts to take shape in your mind. But you didn't want to think. Not now. Thinking meant facing the consequences, and you simply didn't have the strength to deal with that yet.

You turned to face him. Silco, as always, seemed ready to say something. But before he could open his mouth, before he could release a single word or give you that smug smile that always made your blood boil, you struck him.

Your slap wasn't as strong as you wanted—it was all your exhausted body could muster—but it was enough. Silco froze for a moment, his eyes widening more from surprise than pain, but he said nothing. He didn't react. And somehow, that infuriated you even more.

Without waiting for a response or reaction, you turned and walked away.

[...]

The following days passed. The path to the brothel, the routine, the people you crossed paths with—it all seemed normal, yet strangely distant. Neither Kate nor Silco appeared, and you were grateful for that. Still, the peace was an illusion. Your mind offered no respite, replaying the memories of that night every time you closed your eyes. The touch, the anger, the desire, and, finally, the emptiness—it all returned like a silent torment.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the movement around you. It was a physical jolt—a body colliding hard against yours—that finally pulled you from your trance. The impact was so abrupt that you nearly fell.

"Hey!" you snapped, irritated, but the person was already gone, running into the growing crowd around you. It was only then that you realized something was wrong. Urgent, desperate voices overlapped around you.

"A house is on fire!" someone shouted, the phrase ringing out like an alarm. "Hurry!"

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. Your legs began running, following the crowd heading in the same direction. As you turned the corner, the chaos came into full view.

The flames danced wildly, consuming the modest building like ravenous predators. Thick smoke filled the air, burning your nose and throat, making it difficult to breathe. People ran back and forth, some coughing, others carrying buckets of water in a frantic attempt to contain the fire. Children cried as adults tried to organize some form of aid. It was pure chaos—stifling and inescapable.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes locked on the fire that seemed to grow with every passing second. But then, another jolt brought you back—this time, more deliberate.

When you turned, you found a figure that seemed out of place amidst the surrounding chaos. She was tall and muscular, with an imposing presence. The red cloak she wore draped over her shoulders, concealing her left arm in an almost calculated way. She wasn't looking at the fire—she was looking at you.

"Silco sends his regards." before you could react, she dropped something to the ground.

Your breath hitched. The world spun. Pain bloomed in your chest, spreading like poison as realization set in. A necklace with a ballerina pendant. You knew that necklace.

And it was covered in blood. Part 4

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[etherealkissed88]

its all about self, not the physical object.

its so interesting knowing u are never manifesting a material object, but the version of u with that object. u are always manifesting urself, thats why we always want the feeling & why the material world (3d) is always neutral. since everything is u -> u are always manifesting you!

stop trying to "get" the material object and BEcome the person who already has it. there is a difference between the two. there are infinite STATES, infinite versions of YOU, not versions of that car or that acceptance letter (<-reread this until it clicks!) BE it, dont chase it.

the object does not define the person. edward art said that two ppl can have the same clothes. lets say two ppl have a juicy contour tracksuit; one knows they are poor and ugly & the other knows they are rich and beautiful.

the object doesnt mean shit for their identities!

objects cant change who you are - YOU change who you are! even if you think otherwise like the object brings you confidence aka a new identity, at the end of the day it is YOU deciding to change based on the object. its all you. stop putting objects on the pedestal! the change in identity and what you know to be true about yourself comes from YOU. THATS what u have to CHANGE, NOT the object itself. crave BEING that version of you, NOT the object.

you're always only manifesting yourself, never the object. this is a fact so idc if u think im wrong. we are always being (manifesting) a version of ourselves. and this version might have a material object but the root of it all is that we are always manifesting a version of US! NOT THE OBJECT. this also makes sense bc everything is only you (consciousness) so ofc you will always be manifesting yourself. thats why we say the only success story is when you change self/states/your identity or fulfill yourself! its all about YOU YOU YOU, not the OBJECT!

this connects to "you dont want the object, u want the feeling (knowing/fulfillment)." listen: OFC U WANT THE OBJECT. but yall gotta realize that the object gives u some kind of validation or satisfaction so thats WHY u want it.

you want a car -> you want the feeling/freedom of driving wherever, whenever; having control you want a glow up -> you want to know/feel comfrtoable in your own skin or have people love the way you look; self validation or validation from others you want to be with this sp bc you love them -> you want to be loved & give love; want to feel worthy of love, etc

everything comes down to SELF, what you KNOW about you. its the feeling that comes first and THEN the object. its not you want the object THEN the feeling. that makes no sense.

theres nothing wrong w acknowledging u want the feeling first. some of yall love arguing about how this is wrong but it actually helps so many ppl who get so hyperfixed on the object itself, getting unhealthy obsessions & anxieties over objects when getting objects isnt the goal.

i know for a fact that the ppl who say its wrong are the same ppl who havent felt fully fulfilled w something they want. bc when you become truly fulfilled, you literally KNOW you have it even when you dont physically have it. the feeling feels SO powerful.

you can even get fulfilled / know "negative shit" in the 3d. thats proof that the FEELING CONTROLS ALL. regardless of the physical, regardless of the objects. this is especially true since everything in the 3d is NEUTRAL. so feelings are all you can receive from it!

★ you are always manifesting yourself, not the object

☆ you want the feeling first, then the object regardless if you believe it

★ having a object doesnt change your state/identity -> you do

☆ stop focusing on the object & just be

kisses, cutie jani ☆

[ddejavvu]

I can’t stop thinking about being a suspect in a case and being interviewed by Hotch 😭 like being so nervous and him taking it as like “??? are you even gonna try hiding it??” and you’re not gonna be honest and be like “i’m not nervous because i’m guilty i’m nervous BC YOURE A HOT OLD MAN” because this is a serious case and serious situation so it’s just Hotch trying to coax it out of you, you being all flustered looking suspicious but actually like needy for this man, and the team who caught on like “oh wait no. shes just attracted to him. why do we have hot people on the team?”

SSA Hotchner's scrutinizing gaze studies your weak posture, your fidgeting fingers, your spotty eye contact, and he muses, "You're not very good at controlling your body language."

"What?" You look at him, eyes wide and round and full of nerves. You've never been questioned before, not even by a low level security officer, much less an FBI Agent. You suppose that's making you nervous, yes, but what's really wringing you out is the fact that the one they sent to your interrogation room is just plain hot.

He's gorgeous, all sharp features that are always angled towards you, and dark eyes you'd expect of a criminal, not its captor. His suit is crisp and his voice is low; he's the pinnacle of professionalism and he's making you squirm with his undivided, discerning attention.

"You're nervous," He accuses, and you let out a soft huff in the back of your throat.

Who wouldn't be?

"You're fidgeting, you can't look me in the eyes, you lean away from me," He lists, leaning forwards in his chair to watch you repel like a magnet, your back pressing into the metal bars behind you as he proves his point.

"I'd think someone with the criminal expertise to commit six murders without witnesses would have a better handle on their outward appearance."

"I'd think so, too," You manage, not without stammering, "Agent- Agent Hotchner, I- I'm not-"

"You're not guilty? You're the closest thing we have to a suspect," He doesn't let your stuttering deter him, leaning ever-closer until you're flattened against the back of your chair and he's still advancing. He rises from his seat, inching closer and closer as he continues, "You miraculously discovered the body at an odd hour of the night when you had no business being at the scene of the crime, you called it in, you told the police you knew nothing, you're telling me you know nothing, but still," He's inches away from you now, and every nerve in your body is aflame with mortification at the very unhelpful fantasies rushing through your head as he pins you to the chair.

"-You insist on your innocence, but I don't think you're innocent at all. I think you're trying to toy with us, but we don't play games, you won't win. Understand?" His dark eyes bore into your own and you're painfully attracted to them, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from begging him to back away before you lose control and surge forward to kiss him. He refuses to blink, but you're doing it enough for the both of you, lashes rapidly fluttering as you try calming your pounding heart. He watches you for one, two, three, four, five seconds, expecting a hurried confession at any moment, but the door clicks open before you can stammer something humiliating.

"Hotch," It's a dark-haired woman, and god, does the FBI recruit people based on attractiveness? She's stunning and she turns her beautiful eyes on you in sympathy, "Back off, Hotch. She's innocent."

He narrows his eyes at her almost imperceptibly, turning away from you, "You found the unsub?"

"No," She admits, "But it's not her. Okay? I just know."

"You just- Agent Prentiss," Agent Hotchner stands straight, "That's not protocol."

"I know," She gushes, but she strides confidently through the room to ease you upright and out of your chair, "Just- let me handle this, okay? Come on, honey, we'll talk somewhere private."

Agent Hotchner lets her take you away, and he must trust her, even if he's watching her with narrowed eyes. Maybe this is some interrogation tactic, maybe the woman leading you by the shoulder through the precinct is the good cop, and he was the bad one.

She leads you past a cluster of people all leaning against desks or hunching over files, and a slim blonde woman shoots you a knowing smile. What she knows, you're not sure, but you wish so badly that it were comforting.

The woman walking with you leads you straight to the front door, taking your purse from where they'd confiscated it earlier and handing it back to you.

"You're free to go," She smiles at you, eyes nothing but kind, "I'll tell him you proved your innocence."

"But- what," Your fingers are almost too limp to keep your bag in their grip, "I don't understand-"

"I do," She grins, "He's handsome, I get it. He tends to forget that."

Your cheeks sear with flames that you wish would turn you to ash right then and there, so that you could be carried away on the breeze and not have to answer for your embarrassing instincts.

"Don't worry about it," She laughs, clearly sympathetic to your panic, "Trust me, you're not the first person that's squirmed in their seat under the intense gaze of Aaron Hotchner. He's a smart man, but never smart enough to figure out when someone likes him. You're free to go, honey," She repeats, reaching out to squeeze your arm, "And if you ever get dragged into an investigation again - which I hope you don't," She grins, "I wish you a very ugly investigator."

[redr0sewrites]

s. sub vox headcanons please…. i need that tv man so bad its not even FUNNY

YESSSS MY INBOX HAS BEEN LITERALLY FLOODED W SUB VOX EVER SINCE I MADE THAT POST HAHA

🥀Cw: smut, dom!reader, marking, overstimulation, praise, degradation

🥀 Pt 2 Sounding Hcs Here

🥀minors dni

this man is a SPOILED switch

vox genuinely thinks hes a dom until he meets you, he's used to being dominant and has probably never tried being a sub

his ego gets in the way a little at first, he thinks it's embarrassing

however, once you begin to ease him into it, he's no longer embarrassed about the fact that hes subbing... hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys it

vox is so bratty, especially in the beginning

he has to trust you a lot to truly submit, and that takes time

he'll be very demanding, he'll try to touch himself without permission, he'll boss you around, he'll directly disobey commands, all in the effort of pissing you off

little does he know that you aren't giving up

PUNISH HIM. vox has a huge humiliation kink, fuck him in front of a mirror or in his monitor room where he can see himself from all anges, its so embarrassing to him and he'll probably short circuit

better yet, video tape it (w consent ofc) and play it for him later to fluster him

vox loves it when you talk dirty, hes def the type to have a voice kink

vox is also the type to be incredibly sensitive imo, and he gets overstimulated veryyyy easily bc of that

the easiest way for to you break down his bratty, bossy layer is to overstimulate him until he's sobbing

he has to really trust you tho

as much as vox likes your degradation, he LOVES youre praise

this man is constantly under stress, and is always hungry for control, so having someone else take it away from him can be very relieving for him

tell him how good he's doing, how good he's making you feel, and his mind goes all fuzzy <3

honestly once you slip into praise vox is practically GONE, he slips into subspace so easily when it comes to the overstimulating pleasure you're providing and combined with the praising? he's done for

vox always wants his hands on you, but he's so touchy and forgets how sharp his nails are, so you often have to restrain him

he likes seeing you covered in scratches tho, and also secretly likes it when you leave hickeys or scratches on his skin. ESPECIALLY when they're visible- it ties in with the humiliation kink ig, but if anyone ever noticed or pointed it out he'd prob cause a blackout with how flustered he'd get

speaking of getting flustered, vox glitches and whimpers when he moans, and his screen will often flush or grow static-y

the lights and electronics often flicker or go out when he cums, and he often cums so hard he glitches out and cuts the wifi (much to val and vels annoyance)

vox likes receiving more than giving, and LOVES blow jobs- it can be a little hard for him to give oral (lmao) but he loves bjs so so so much

theres something so pleasurable about just laying back and doing nothing but whimper and claw at the sheets as you suck him dry, and he cries from pleasure every time

VOX LOVES IT WHEN U SUCK HIM OFF WHILE HES WORKING, BUT HE NEVER ACTUALLY GETS ANY WORK DONE AND SPENDS THE WHOLE TIME SHAKING AND TRYING NOT TO THRUST INTO YOURE MOUTH

vox is also def a squirmer, like he'll shudder and whine over the gentlest touches. y'all also have to change the bedding like eveytime you have sex cuz he literally CLAWS at the sheets and moves around a LOT

simple solution? shibari

he loves/hates being tied up because its soooo humiliating and it gives you complete control

speaking of control, he finds it really hot when you're pissed or acting dominant outside of the bedroom

sometimes (alot of times) he'll try to intentionally piss you off just so you'll fuck him senseless

at the end of long work days, he either wants to be gently praised and taken care of while you both make love or fucked absolutely senseless until he can't even remember why he was upset and can only helplessly babble and whine

vox goes incoherent super easily and it only embarrasses him more that he can't get words out

he def owns a lot (and i mean a LOT) of sex toys and likes it when u use them on him

some nights he just wants to lay back while you try them all out on him

HES INTO SOUNDING AND YES I WILL ELABORATE IF ASKED <333

just the thought of u filling every one of his holes and overstimulating him from every angle makes him horny

he def will want you to use a remote control vibrator during meetings, he gets off on the humiliation

however with all of his baggage w valentino and shit, he def likes being treated sweetly too

some days he needs to get out of his head and be forced into submission and put into place, but others he needs to be pampered and praised and treated like glass

vox is much more emotional on these days and is a lot more clingy during these softer sessions

talk him through his orgasm, he'll probably start crying and let out the prettiest whimpers- he just cant help it, you make him feel so good :(

overall, he can be both super bratty and super submissive at the same time and is one kinky mf

humiliation is absolutely his biggest kink, followed in no particular order by bondage, a voice kink, praise, marking/claiming, DRY HUMPING (again i will absolutely elaborate if asked... hehe), and being put in his place

YALLLLLL IK THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I HAVE LIKE 6 OTHER SUB VOX REQS IN MY INBOX RN WHERE I WILL DEF BE GOING INTO MORE DETAILED SCENARIOS HEHE I LOVE HIMMMMM!!! I'LL PROB DO MORE IN DEPTH LIKE GENERAL HCS FOR HIM SOON WITH HIS DOM SIDE AS WELL CUZ THIS MANS THE WORLDS BIGGEST SWITCH- ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYEDDDD FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE REQS >:D

UPDATE: ELABORATION (basically pt 2 w sounding hcs) HERE

[gor3-hound]

resident evil works (dark content)

☆ can't fight this feeling ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

ft. incel stepbrother!leon x reader

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, somno

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance! He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

☆ are you lonely?

ft. real dad!leon x reader

tw: incest

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day. You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

☆ sweet creature

ft. wolf!leon x bunny!reader

tw: slight dub-con, predator/prey dynamics

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears. “If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

☆ meant to be yours

ft. rookie!leon x obsessive!reader

tw: self-mutilation, cannibalism

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed. If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

☆ i apologise if you feel something

ft. leon kennedy x reader

tw: non-con, domestic abuse

“Cute. Real fucking cute.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw roughly so you're facing him. He seems to get even angrier when he sees how terrified you look. “Aww… baby. You're scared?” He coos, a mocking pout making its way to his lips. “You should be grateful. I'm keeping you safe. You have no right to be scared. If you knew what I've seen, what I've been through-”

☆ don't hold your breath (nobody's home)

ft. uncle!leon x niece!reader

tw: incest, non-con

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you. Fuck this. He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

☆ teacher's pet

ft. professor!leon x student!reader

tw: power imbalance, dub-con

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall. “Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

☆ over again

ft. kidnapper!leon x reader

tw: forced ddlg, heavy dub-con

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

☆ cry for absolution

ft. priest!leon x reader

tw: non-con

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

[nxtaliaistyping]

eddie getting his brains pegged out?

The Riddler getting pegged <3

Authors note: I’m physically unable to resist any edward requests atm omg, I’ve nearly collected all his trophies in Arkham knight I need him so bad. part two

18+ nsfw, fem reader, reluctant sub eddie lmao

A man like Edward, someone so prideful, so narcissistic, so egotistical, it’s hard for him to let go of the sense of control that permeates his desires. So you have to start slow.

He usually takes the lead during your sexual escapades, enjoying seeing you submit to him and give him the praise he believes he deserves. But you slowly start to push back, praising him in specific ways that have a confused blush painting his cheeks before he scoffs dismissively.

You know you have to take it slow; but you're in it for the long haul, teasingly pulling his hair occasionally, or pinning him down as you both make-out on the bed sloppily. Pushing and pushing, eventually you broach the subject, leading him to scoff at you.

"You seriously think I, The Riddler, would willingly debase myself to such an extent as to allow you to do that to me?"

At your slight pout, he rolls his eyes, "you'd have to be a very good girl in order for that to happen."

But what you don't know, is the thrilling lurch in his stomach that unfolded at the suggestion. As he dismissively leaves the room, he tries in vain to cover up the fact his bulge is pressing firmly against his suit trousers, straining the green material.

So you keep pushing, keep gently needling until the time finally comes when the genius is laying on his back, toes curled slightly as you work two lubed fingers inside of him.

"Is this it? I must say for someone so eager, you don't seem to be putting in much effort." he says snarkily, always feeling the desire for control.

"Don't wanna hurt you." you reply.

"...as if you could." he says, but his tone is soft, as if he's subtly thanking you for your care.

With the help of extra lube, you push three fingers inside, prodding around for that certain spot. He wriggles, about to make another comment before his breath stutters and his eyes widen. Found it.

"Again." he demands, and you can't help but smirk a little smugly as you repeat the motion, a soft breath escaping your lover. You keep going, scissoring him open. Each brush of your fingers around his prostate has him tightening around you, a gasp releasing itself from the narcissist. You keep a steady rhythm, wanting to pleasure him as well as just prep him to take something bigger.

“…get on with it, if you wanted t-to fuck me, you might as well do it.”

The impatience bleeds through his tone, but you relent and remove your fingers, retrieving the strap on from the closet. His eyes are firmly fixated on the toy, a little nervous (although he would never tell you that, of course). You lube it up, positioning the fake cock at his entrance.

“Get a move on, I thought you wanted to-“

As you push the cock head inside, his voice trails off into a stuttery whine. It can only be described as a whine, as it’s higher pitched and breathy as it claws its way out of his throat. His fists rake their way against the sheets below, as you keep slowly pushing. Watching his hole accommodate your fake dick is a sight to behold.

Eventually you bottom out inside of him, watching the way the sweat shines on his skin, his red hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes can’t decide whether to remain open and wide or screw themselves shut tightly.

“Fuck…m-move. Do something…fuck me.” He demands, attempting to regain some semblance of control. But you’re always one to please, so you start to slowly pull out before pushing back in.

A moan escapes him, feeling your fake cock fill him up so deliciously. You can’t help but smile down at him, watching his chest rise and fall as you repeat the slow motion a few times. Inside, his chest tightens at how good it feels, but most of all how safe he feels with you; truly a disarming realisation.

“Feel good Eddie?”

“You…fucking know it feels good you little brat-“

He’s cut off once again by a particularly harder thrust. Laughing softly, you keep up the increased pace, determined to get him to make those lovely noises.

Edward hates being laughed at, but he’s finding it difficult to snap at you when you’re nailing his prostate with every thrust. “Fuck…I-I’ll get you back for this you know…nobody laughs at me…”

Your hands travel the expanse of his chest and abdomen, feeling the skin beneath you as well as his little twitches. Having the time of your life, your fingers travel to his nipples, circling them and causing his back to arch a little.

“Ah…m-more.”

You could have been mean, made him beg for it…but there’s plenty of time for that later. At this point, you wanted to see your lover achieve ecstasy, so you play with his nipples in time with your thrusts. His hands release the sheets only to find their new home grabbing your arms.

He isn’t used to this, feeling so…out of control, so pleasured despite being so vulnerable. It’s an addictive feeling, he can understand why you love it so much.

It isn’t long before the twitching increases in his muscles, and you reach down to pump his cock, hard and angry looking; pre cum dribbling out of the head. Truly, he’s in heaven now, the sensations fulfilling desires he didn’t know he had.

“You close Eddie? Gonna make a mess?” You can’t help but tease.

“…yes…yes…gonna make a mess.”

His tone is quieter than usual, a little more broken. Seemingly his pride has leaked out of his ears with what feels like his brain as he’s railed, or at the very least is now lying dormant for now.

Moving your hand up and down, you use your other to grab his hip, allowing you to bear a little of your weight down to thrust with more vigour. Noises are truly being pushed from his mouth now, his mouth constantly slack at the dual stimulation.

“So close…” he says quietly, a lot more quiet than you’re used to him being, which makes you nod and smile.

“Want you to finish eddie, want you to feel good.”

He cums with a strangled cry, truly making a mess of himself as he comes thick ropes all over his abdomen, some reaching his chest and even as high as his collarbone. It looks like he’s shivering, clearly the experience was intense. You pull out gently, cunt throbbing at the whimpered hiss as he suddenly feels empty.

“You did so well Edward.”

“Yes yes I know I did.” He remarks dismissively, although his tone betrays how spent he really is. With an uncharacteristically soft look, he glances at you. “You didn’t do too badly either.”

High praise coming from Edward, as you dutifully grab a washcloth and clean his cum off himself. “I really should have made you lick it off, a reward for me for letting you do that.”

As if his reward wasn’t getting his brains fucked out and cumming all over himself. But you know…you know you’ll be able to do this again, and you know that next time you’ll be able to do something about his brattiness.

[t4tlottie]

Hey... So I'm gonna need more of baby demon/succubus Lottie 😅🥰

succubus!lottie headcanons 💭

lottie who keeps a special strand of your hair tied up in a bow. she likes to play with it when she's bored or sniff/lick it when she gets off to the thought of you. she's ashamed and feels perverted, but that fuels her to collect more of your things like used tissues when you go out with her to a restaurant, your used panties, your used anything really.

she really doesn't mean to seduce you, really! it just happens. she can't control it. and she doesn't know how, anyway. it's not her fault that her body secretes this hormone that makes you horny for her :( and it's not her fault she finds herself jerking off in your window while watching you sleep because she could smell your heat from her house. she can't help when she mind controls you into thinking about her. she can't help it when she accidentally makes you feel pleasure down there.

Succubus!lottie who kinda accidentally marks you....so now whenever she thinks of you, you feel this faint pulse in your neck.

once she starts to get more comfortable with being a succubus, she gets sooo much bolder. lottie taking you to the lake as a friend date. you sit back eating those bologna sandwiches you made (you're a little upset at the fact that she didn't even try to eat one) and watch her dip her feet into the lake until she starts stripping o_O you kinda just let her do her thing and try not to stare at her naked body as she skinnydips but she's unknowingly secreting those hormones that make you wanna hold her down and ride her. making eye contact with her as she swims back toward you and you're just in a trance.... unabashedly looking down as her wet body comes out of the water, and you can feel this strange heat coming from her. and you can almost smell it too? anyway, she just ends up fucking you raw and leaves you there all sore.

that scene in jennifers body with the lighter.....thinking of lottie burning her tongue and then eating you out @__@ using her hot tongue to trace down your body to make you feel extra good.

jealous!ex!succubus lottie who likes to manifest herself in your room whenever you have girls over to mess with you because she's pissed that you left her.

think it'd be interesting to see succubus!lottie who feeds on boys with a transmasc!reader.... especially if you just started T because your hormones would be all wack and she'd have the most trouble controlling herself from ripping you apart with her teeth <3 she goes absolutely ham on that tdick before your shot day too because that's when ur T is at its lowest. or maybe a needy/chip/jennifer situation where you're dating jackie (anything to include jackielot SORRY!) and after you come out as transmasc, she becomes obsessed and tries to seduce you. she's hungry and follows you to jackie's place, waiting until you walk home because she knows you guys just fucked and your blood is rushing. her food is best when they're like that. idk she successfully seduces you and leads you to the abandoned pool to fuck. or at least thats what you think you're doing. she's annoyed that you're not as into it because she can tell you're thinking of jackie and decides she needs to have her fun now and roughhouses with you. something something she takes a SMALL chunk out of your neck before realizing she can use you for food for, like, ever. she can drain your blood when she's hungry. not too much though, she doesnt wanna kill you.

pain play with her.........she wants you to use a knife. nuff said.

but ughh...baby succubus!lottie who doesnt understand what she's doing 😞 she always comes to you after she gets out of her trance, covered in blood and looking at you with teary eyes, and asks you to help her. she tries to resist the hunger at first but she just gets so weak and sick ;( you've tried to help her find alternatives like drinking pigs blood or seeing if she could regain her strength from eating animals, but she needs flesh. thinking of offering her some of your blood just until she can.....find...someone to feed on. she looks up at you with such teary brown eyes it's adorable 😭😭 she constantly asks if you're alright and takes the best care of you after she cleans you up :( ugh. just thinking of her tapping on your window and you get surprised at the amount of blood covering her chin...and she's still so cute.

[comet-forgot-you]

yo hear me out, so it started with R shouting "You're crazy Amber?!!" cus she found amber is ghostface and amber reply with "wel don't you think you shouldn't have let in a murderer inside your house" and they starred each other off and just have a makeout session + passionately fuck?

thankyou.

smut. 18+ pls.

do not repost for any reason.

you opening the door in nothing but a t shirt and underwear, recognizing the frantic knocks from amber. she was dressed in her black robe, a cut on her arm, bruises littered over her body.

you didnt even think to question it, your girlfriend was injured and that was all you were worried about, the strangeness of the situation not hitting you until you were done cleaning her up, wrapping her arm up.

“what the hell happened?” you asked, finally taking in her clothing. “what the hell are you wearing? is that a fucking knife? amber what the hell are you doing?” your never ending questions not allowing her answer. then it hits you, the robe, the knife, the blood, the recent murders.

your girlfriend was ghostface.

“you’re fucking ghostface? you’re the one thats been killing everyone? amber what the fuck!”

she grabs your shoulders, its startling and enough for you to shut up for two seconds. “calm down.”

“calm down? amber you’re killing people! my girlfriend is a fucking murdered and you want me to calm down? amber, you’re fucking crazy!”

she pauses for a moment.m, her eyes narrowing. “im crazy? you’re the one that let a killer into your house.” your eyes widened, fear washing over you for a brief moment. “you think im just randomly killing these people? its for you, its all for you. everyone of them is for you.”

shes fucking crazy.

amber had always joked about how she would kill for you. at least you thought it was a joke, now you weren’t so sure. it scared you, just a little bit.

but it was hot.

your eyes meet hers as she sets her knife down on your countertop. theres still blood on it, streaks of dried blood coating the blade. your lips are on hers before you know it. its hot, her tongue dancing with your own. she turns the two of you around, trapping you between her body and the counter. she reaches behind you, your lips never leaving each other as she pushes the knife away from you.

she taps your thighs and helps you onto the counter, her hands unable to keep still on your body. she kneads and pulls against you, forcing whines to fall from your lips. her fingers finally meet your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot that appeared on you underwear. she pulls the fabric to the side, far to eager to have you right now than to take the time to pull them off of you.

her fingers run through your folds before sinking into your cunt, curling them slightly. you pull away from her lips, starting to feel lightheaded at the lack of oxygen and the pleasure. your hot, heavy breaths mixed with each other, both of you so needy for the other.

“all for me?” you whisper the question out and amber nods. your walls squeeze at fingers at the confirmation, everything she’s done has been for you, and it was attractive in its own way. it doesnt go unnoticed by amber, a smirk creeping onto her lips.

“you little freak. do you get off on the fact that im killing for you? hmm?” you walls squeeze around her fingers again, giving amber the confirmation she needed. her lips trail down your jaw, using her free hand to tilt your head up slightly, allowing her more access to your neck.

“ambs,” you suck in a breath as her teeth scrape your neck. she presses a gentle kiss to the skin.

“hmm?”

shes sucking a deep mark, her fingers not to stopping their movements inside of your cunt. you let out a shaky moan, already so close, “please.” her thumb starts to rub your clit in tight circles, the added pleasure bringing you closer to your high.

you cant control your moans, everything about amber was just driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “im not stopping you, hun.”

[stinmybubs]

"I want you."

AN: Hi hi! I haven't ever really posted on tumblr because I'm so obsessed with reading lol, but I just decided to say fuck it and write wtv I think of.

18+!! Please be advised there will be mature content! Minors I cannot control you but DNI if you do see this, thank you so much!

AFAB! Reader! x Bakugo Katsuki

Bakugo is a hothead, we all know this as a fact. Getting close to him wasn't that easy, you found him a bit annoying because of his constant yelling every time someone tried to be nice to him.

You never considered Bakugo Katsuki as your type, maybe Kirishima, Midoriya, a little bit of Denki, hell Mina sure was up your alley. But the way you saw the hot headed boy changed a bit overtime, it was his calmness. He never really got out of line unless provoked or wanted to show off a bit. Which you found awfully cute.

It was the little things. Noticing how he treated those he kept around him, just the cute ways he'd refuse to make eye contact with people especially when he was embarrassed.

Sooner or later you found yourself staring at him more often, noticing how beautiful he was, yeah beautiful...but also how awfully hot he was. His biceps, chest, arms, legs, everything was just so ugh. The way he looked in tank tops just made you drool.

AN: Okay okay I'm getting off track of actual head cannons I am so sorry its been so long.

B Katsuki He notices how you stare, and cant say he hates the attention you give him, of course he loves it. He revels in it.

B Katsuki You never noticed, but he always kept an eye on you. Not only was he too afraid to speak to you but he knew you didn't see him in a good way. I mean you made it pretty obvious from the beginning and by the way you used to look at him. He was never too good at properly talking to someone. Especially people he liked. So he started with small things, trying to be calmer even though everything everyone said was stupid. He just wanted you to like him, but he didn't know if you ever will.

B Katsuki When he noticed the staring, his heart skipped. It made him nervous and he never knew where to look. But now, its time to show off even more knowing you're watching. He tried looking over from time to time to see your reaction to what he was doing, did you like it? But one time he saw you looking everywhere but his face and the smirk on his face when he found out...his ego inflated so much that day.

B Katsuki The worst part of trying to drop hints at Bakugo was hot but frustrating, the way you'd purposely bend over in his line of sight, or the way you'd purposely unbutton your shit whenever it was "hot." But the fucker never even looked your way or said anything.

B Katsuki Oh he noticed, he noticed your little tease. And how he longed to touch you. But what pissed him off about you doing this was how the other boys could see this, especially on one particular day.

Class 1-A decided to collectively work out together, especially try to motivate the non-athletic classmates. Your workout clothes weren't that different from the rest of the girls, a tank top and some work out shorts. You and the girls were kind of slacking off until Bakugo came over yelling for you guys to stop fooling around and actually work out or in his words. " Leave ya' takin up space." And with that the giggling was over.

"Ugh..." You groaned, leaning against a wall to regain your energy. You quickly grabbed the small towel you had resting on the bar while you were attempting to bench press, wiping the icky sweat from your forehead and chest.

"Eugh, water...need.." This time you weren't even attempting to be a tease, you just wanted some fucking water. You bend over to check the time on your phone, lowering your head with a hand on the wall, resting your eyes with a sigh.

"Ugh...we've been here for only 30min." You sigh, lifting yourself back up and stretching your back. Not realizing the fuming Katsuki staring at you.

"Oi' fuckers I didn't say you can stop workin' out!"

Bakugo yelled, noticing a handful of guys staring at you. Denki, mineta, Kirishima, and Sero. Now he's pissed.

AN: Uhhh, this turned out to be wayyyy more than headcannons. Safe to say that this is going to have a pt.2! Yay my first 2 parter! I cannot write long stories so :3 Oh! I am recently getting back into writing so I am very sorry if the grammar is horrid and the story sucks it was off the top of my head as I wrote, no pre-plan, no nothin. I am very sorry! But thank you for reading. <3

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2074

Finale I - part 2/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending):

As the fight continued, you could only watch; eyes getting misty at the sight. You did not want to see anyone getting hurt, especially Agatha, who so stubbornly kept fighting.

You gasped weakly when you saw one of Rio's attacks sending her back. The feeling in your stomach got worse when you saw Agatha spitting out blood as she stubbornly stood up, not giving Rio the satisfaction of defeat.

Deep breaths only caused you more pain, but you had to, as you tried to gather all of your mental strength to remain in control. Your hand was firmly placed against the wound, your white magic trying to heal you but failing to do so; the dagger far more powerful than anyone expected.

Seeing Rio and Agatha fighting made your heart beat painfully, each beat causing more aches within. You hatd seeing them at each other's necks when you knew deep down, they still had feelings for one another... and you had for them.

They did not deserve to hate each other until the end of time or fight until one of them was about to die; in this case, Agatha.

You slowly started to stand up, adrenaline the only thing helping as your legs felt weak; the shock of the attack still affecting your body but not your mind, since the safety of your lovers was far more powerful.

Your grip on Billy's arm tightened, using him as an extra support to get and remain up; for the last thing you needed was to fall.

"What are you doing?" Billy asked, looking at you in surprise. He stood up fast, ready to catch you in case you fell back but also, passively wishing to stop you from doing anything reckless. "You should be healing."

You took a moment to answer, each breathe causing you pain. "I can't. It's Rio's knife," you answered vaguely.

Your hand went to the handle, and you braced yourself before pulling the dagger in one quick move. The action made you gasp, hands shaking as you dropped the knife.

You brought your dominant hand on your chest, white magic coming alive beneath your finger. You tried your best to hold the bleeding, reduce it, and stop yourself from dying on the spot.

It worked faintly, but the blood kept coming out, no longer the dagger existing to block it and keep you alive.

You felt the familiar warmth of fresh blood coming from an open wound, but it did not phase you. You had your plan in mid, and that was the only thing you cared about.

Billy looked at you, a continuous support while he tried hard not to look at your bleeding wound. "What do you mean? You will die if you try to move." He argued, hoping somehow he could ensure you would not die on him.

Honestly, he could not bear losing you too; especially in such an unfair and unjust way. You of all witches deserved to survive and live, not fall victim to centuries old fuel between Agatha and Rio.

You offered him a weak smile. "Even my powers have limits, and so does my time here."

He had no words to argue, seeing you so determined despite the fact you were about to die. All he could do was to ensure you were okay as you took the first step forward; eyes always locked on the two lovers locked into this heated, never-ending battle.

You started slowly walking toward Rio and Agatha, not caring about the risk that their wild energy would and could hit you.

Your time, like you had told Billy, was limited. You didn't have a lot of time to act, and every second paasing was vital.

Each step felt heavier than the one before it. Each breath was laboured and brought up pain. The bleeding was not stopping, you're magic was not capable of helping you somehow heal while you were pushing your body to its limits.

Rio and Agatha did not take notice of you approaching until it was too late. Green and purple magic had come alive in their hands, but both froze when they spotted you.

This thing, perhaps, was your only chance to actually interfere, and you took it by the horns.

You let go of your world and focused all the magic you could gather in your hands. You could feel how quickly it was draining you, siphoning all of your energy and power.

Yet, you kept going, and when you felt it was enough; you stopped holding back..

Your white magic exploded all around you, forming a powerful sphere of white energy. It not only lifted wind, dust, and debris but also sent the two lovers on their backs; effectively stopping them from attacking one another.

Congratulations, you had managed to stop them both from trying to kill one another. However, at what cost?

A strong cough escaped you, blood staining your hand that had subconsciously moved in front of your lips. Your powers started giving up on you, and you had to bend one knee to try and save yourself from a nasty fall.

"Y/N!" Billy called your name in worry, so close in rushing to you.

Seeing you this weak and pale, worried both Rio and Agatha; who stood up and were recovering from your spontaneous blast.

Rio was the first to speak. "Get back, Y/N!" She shouted, seeing you trying hard to remain in the middle.

Agatha joined right after. Rio's words snapped her from the initial shock. "Get away from her!"

Their words started to tire you, your patience running quite thin since you were so close to bleeding out to death. You were tired, you were wounded and most likely about to die...

So you would not spend your last moments watching them fight and argue.

You managed to stand on your legs again, though you were unsure for how long you would manage.

"I swear I will keep blasting you until you both stop!" You snapped at them and brought your hand to wipe the blood from the edges of your mouth. Your other hand was still pressed against your wound, though to no avail; blood staining your hand and dress with no intention of stopping. "I don't care what happened between the two of you in the past... I don't care how Little Nicky got involved..." You took in a pained breath. "But I refuse to let you kill each other, over such stupid past and grudge.

And with those words, you could no longer remain standing. Your legs buckled in, knees supporting all your weight as they were forced on the rough ground.

The white in your eyes disappeared, your trusty powers abandoning you faster after the outburst.

Agatha and Rio acted on pure instinct, dropping everything they did and thought as they rushed towards you. They knelt by each side of you, arms spreading to hug and hold you; preventing you from falling forward.

Their presence was comforting to you as you felt yourself getting weaker. With the last bit of your strength, you brought your hands around each of their necks and pulled them closer to you.

"You two better make amends, or I swear... I will come back and haunt you both, " you joked weakly.

You could tell the ending was close, but this time, you were not afraid. You welcomed it, knowing you were in the arms of the two women you loved.

Rio and Agatha did not seem to take your words lightly, and both hugged you tightly. Agatha was the one failing to hide back her tears, her bottom lip faintly trembling.

Rio was better at being in control, perhaps because it was her you would see soon as she took your soul to the next plane. Yet the fact remained that she was not fully okay with you dying, so stupidly none the less.

As Rio and Agatha kept you closer; their hands met behind your back. In a silent moment of common grief and support, they let their fingers interlock.

"You stupid naive girl," Rio said, inhaling your scent as she buried her face into your shoulder.

Agatha hesitated to speak, afraid her voice would crack. "Sugar..." she whispered.

The whole sight brought tears into Billy's eyes, leaving him standing there as you slowly accepted death, and so did your lovers.

You closed your eyes, a few tears escaping as you held them close; feeling them together once again. Your feelings for both went crazy and you wished to kiss them one last time, but you feared you would collapse if you let them go.

As you three remain there, hugging one another; your breaths started to sync, your hearts beating as one as the faint light of the moon was casted on you.

Suddenly, your white magic started to come alive beneath your fingers, starting faint but slowly growing in intensity. The same seemed to happen to Rio and Agatha, one magic influencing the other; bringing it to life without the consent of their casters.

At first, it was so faint that no one noticed, but then this new feelings started to be shared within the three of you. This new combined power started to surge through their bodies and yours, a sweeter and more favourable wind picking up.

Your eyes opened wide as you felt your chest wound burning, and only then did you notice the show of colours taking place all around you.

Rio's green and black magic was alive, wrapping around the three of you, but it was not alone. Agatha's purple had joined into the mix, along with your white one; creating beautiful harmonised combinations as they kept moving around you like live creatures with a life of their own.

Once your fellow witches took notice, they gasped and pulled back; with you copying them.

Colour had returned to your once pale cheeks, eyes glowing with life. Your wound was covered by a mixture of this triple magic, quickly stopping the bleeding and sticking up.

"The wound..." Agatha exclaimed, being the first to notice it.

Rio notices it too, but there is obvious confusion on her face. You were literally with one leg over and now... you were glowing with life, your magic returning and boosting you stronger than ever before.

Then, the answer came, and it all clicked into place. "The power of the three." she looked at Agatha, a smirk of victory on her lips. "I told you she could be part of it."

Once again, you were confused on the topic of discussion; clearly, I had missed quite a few things that you needed in order to catch up.

Agatha always found you rather adorable when you had that innocent and confused expression on your face.

She cupped your cheek gently. "I will explain later, sugar."

With their help, you slowly got up; feeling better than before, but you could go for a long nap.

As you turned to face Billy, you almost got tackled by him as he rushed to hug you. He truly thought he had lost you for a moment, and now here you stand, all healthy and healed.

"How is this possible? Thought you couldn't heal the wound," he said and pulled back, looking at you for answers.

You could not help but smile. "Alone, I couldn't. Together, we could."

Agatha chose to help enlighten the poor boy who had yet so much to learn. "The power of the three. Three witches magically bonded like no other, it enchants and boosts each other's powers."

Billy nodded and looked at Agatha, and then he dared to look at Rio. "So what now?"

It was your turn to look at Rio, holding her and in yours. "Please, let's end this." Rio hesitated to answer, evident in her dark eyes. "Come on, Rio. We will all die sooner or later. Why must you take us now? "

Rio remained silent for a moment, clearly debating the topic in her mind. In the end, she let out a small sigh of defeat.

"Very well," she agreed and lifted a single digit. "One life," she emphasised. "No more cheating death, no more body jumping."

Billy and Agatha did not have to be told twice to nod their heads, more than happy to leave with their lives.

Agatha looked at Rio and offered a sweet smile. "Thank you, my love."

Part 3 (smutt)

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part three

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 2.9k (2951)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part four!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

The airport, at night, had always seemed like an extremely quiet place to you; often your flights, just like this one in the end, arrived at their destination when it was already dark outside, and going down the steps of the plane in the cold night had always been a pleasant sensation for you. But not this time, when everything seemed out of place while your head still hurt from the fight with Gabriele

Even if at least 3 hours had passed and you were completely in another country, Gabriel's shadow always seemed to be a few steps behind you, looking for the right moment to attack you and suck every last drop of blood from you

The flight had been quick, barely two hours. Berlin had welcomed you with its usual beauty, which fascinated you every time. Your phone had run out of battery just before entering the Milan airport, leaving you with no news from Kaiser. You didn't know if he had read the message, if he was at home, if he was first of all still convinced of his proposal: everything still seemed to be understood, and not having the situation under control was strange for someone like you

During the flight you often thought about Kaiser, but it's often a nice and reductive way of saying always: the thought of seeing him again, of hugging him, of living under his roof again were all sensations that you had terribly missed. His touch was something you craved after so many hands that had touched you only to hurt you

You simply needed Michael

The moment you plugged in the charger at the airport and your phone came back to life, your phone's notifications were flooded with nothing but Kaiser: you had received a few calls, a few messages and even an email. You find yourself smiling almost unconsciously, opening the chat

mihya ♡

— are you serious? — 17:59

— tell me you're not joking and you actually accepted — 18:00

— y/n?? — 18:13

— your phone shows disconnected, maybe you're on a plane — 18:29

— call me — 18:32

— call me as soon as you get off, I'll stay outside until I see the plane land — 18:41

— you don't know how happy it makes me to know that you are here with me again — 18:57

Reread the last message more than a few times, and the smile on your face doesn't seem to want to fade; Kaiser never dares to say such sweet things, but the fact that he did it with you makes you extremely happy. Suddenly, to yourself, you wondered why you hadn't moved back there before. You would have suffered much less

mihya ♡

you — I'm at the gate — 19:47

— I saw you. I'm coming to you — 19:47

You write the message and look up, looking for him among the sea of ​​people walking in their own hurry. Knowing that he responded right away and was waiting for you warms your heart. Noticing blonde and blue hair should be simple, yet where is he? why don't you see anyone approaching?

"Damn" you whisper to yourself, standing on tiptoe to look for him, but you feel as if Gabriel's shadow disappears to make room for another, more reassuring one. You whip around and a pair of cerulean big eyes stare back at you, the usual smirk on his pale, smooth face "Found"

For just a second, the world seems to stop; you look at each other, one's eyes on the other's figure, and for a fraction of time that seems to last too short, you find yourself thinking about what it would be like to kiss him again. Kiss him out of love, not driven by the moment as had happened to you that night in the hotel. Simply knowing what his lips would taste like for a kiss given on the fly, just like that. But the feeling doesn't last long, replaced by one of strangeness for even having imagined such a thing

“Hey” you say, waving at him with your free hand, the other holding the suitcase. But it's not long before he pulls you into a hug, his hands resting on the small of your back. Sweet shivers run down your spine, and you wonder why you all suddenly you seem like a whore for his touch. You just really hope he doesn't notice, because it would be extremely difficult to explain. He stays like that for a few seconds, before you place your free hand against his back, returning the hug. Kaiser lets out a satisfied sigh before pulling away, picking up your suitcase without even asking your permission "I can carry it" you say trying to take the handle again, but he shakes his head "Don't you dare. Are you tired?" he asks

You would like to answer him simply, tell him that at the moment tiredness is eating you alive and the stress of the last fight with Gabriel is still corroding your veins. But now, with him, everything seems a little lighter

"A little, but because of the flight. A good sleep and I'll be better" you say walking next to him as you head towards the airport exit. He watches you, but doesn't seem completely convinced by your words "Is that all?" he asks raising an eyebrow, and you know very well that sooner or later you will have to explain the situation to him in full “For what you need to know now, yes"

You exit the building, your suitcase in the back seat and you and him sitting comfortably in the front seats. The car leaves, walking a road you already know: when you lived with Kaiser, you were often the one who came to pick him up when he returned from another country, and you walked along the exact same road that led, and continues to lead, to his house

"This sudden decision?" the guy says, switching gears "Don't get me wrong, but you still had some doubts on the call. You told me to wait before you hung up on me, and I don't know why" he says, and you understand what he means. You look through the window, Berlin slowly returning to your memory with all its particularities

"Gabriel is back" you say, and notice how his expression changes radically "He acted crazy, and still being there made me realize that there would probably be bad consequences. So I accepted, removing any doubts" you say, your hands calm on your lap. Kaiser nods, but his grip on the steering wheel remains tighter than necessary

"I should have asked you before, but I thought it was one of your usual things where you argue and two days later everything is normal. I'm glad that this time you've really opened your eyes, at least on this topic" he says almost in a sarcastic tone, which however you don't understand all of a sudden "At least in this topic?" you ask, and Micheal turns to look at you for a few seconds before looking back at the road ahead, leaving you with no answer. You glare at him for a few seconds, then sigh; you look back out the window, and suddenly the silence seems to weigh heavy between you

The road passes quietly under your and his gaze, and even before you realize it, you arrive at the iron gate that opens onto Micheal's house. The car passes him and stops in the cobblestone driveway, before it shuts down completely. Kaiser gets out and consequently you too, heading to get your suitcase, but again he is the one who picks it up and carries it into the house.When you enter the house, an old feeling of familiarity enters your veins, reminding you of many beautiful memories: the dinners at midnight when he returned from training, the sports themed evenings where he forced you to pass the ball to him inside the house, the days where you simply stayed lying on the sofa together was the only solution. There is a reason, after all, that you consider the years here to be your happiest

And knowing that for now this will be your new home makes you calm, much more than you were in Milano, always suspicious and sad

"The house also missed you" the boy says ironically, placing the suitcase at the entrance; you giggle, rolling your eyes as you take off your coat “And I missed the house” you say feeling more confident. Kaiser lets out a laugh as he motions for you to follow him into the kitchen, which you do. As you walk, nothing seems to have changed except just the color of the walls, which have now gone from light white to grey

“You didn't have dinner, right?” he asks going towards the fridge "No. I didn't have the chance" you admit, but in fact you weren't really hungry, still with an upset stomach after the fight "I suspected. Sit down, I'll make you something" he says taking some eggs, but you shake your head before approaching and taking the food in your hand "Don't worry, it's not a big problem. Have you eaten?" you ask, and he glares at you, almost hurt "Don't worry about that, I'll eat something later. Sit down" he says moving his head, and you're about to reply when he shushes you again "This is your home again, you don't have to well done" he says, and a smile tugs at your lips before you sigh, finally sitting down

Kaiser starts preparing something, and you watch as he moves around the kitchen. You were used to seeing him cook, but seeing him do it at his house with the knowledge that it was yours again had a different flavor. You wanted to ask him so many things, but above all if he really wasn't often at home or had only told you to convince you. The company, appreciated above all, would not have hurt you like someone else “Mihya” you call to him, and he turns around “Hm?” he murmurs, returning to his work "Are you really not home often?" you ask, thinking about it "I know you guys are playing some kind of league right now, so you're busy. I also saw that you had a game today, but in Berlin" you say, hiding the fact that you had this afternoon's game against PxG seen in full “When are you leaving next?” you ask

Kaiser places a plate of eggs and vegetables in front of you, before sitting down on the chair in front of yours "I'm often not at home because of the championship, yes. Today it was a coincidence that I was playing in Berlin, but in general I go to hotels with the rest of the team. The next game should be in Cologne tomorrow afternoon, so I should leave tonight, but-" he says, and you interrupt him almost immediately "You should get ready if you have to leave, then" you say worriedly, but he shakes his head "-But, since you have arrived, I will leave alone and ask to come back first. You are here, and I don't like leaving you alone no matter how much you want it. The team will leave tonight and I will join them by train tomorrow morning" he says, putting down his head on the table on his folded arms

The carrot you were eating gets stuck in your throat, and a sense of embarrassment spreads around you. You look at Kaiser, who gave up something so important just for you, who looks at you with an attention he has never paid to anyone since you've known him. The gaze is returned, and a strange sense of tension stops between you

You want to let win your intrusive thoughts that tell you to kiss him and ask him why you had sex win, but you resist for the shred of dignity you have left. But, in your eyes at least, he also seems to be fighting the urge to do something

"You shouldn't have. But thank you, Mihya" you say trying to get everything back to normal, but his damned look doesn't seem to give in even as the words return to compensate for the silence

You eat in silence, glancing at each other as you finish your meal. Without really noticing it, it's later than you expected: you both enter the room you used a few years ago, and everything is left as you left it, only some of his prizes have taken their places on the shelves "I'll take them out as soon as I have a few minutes" he says, placing the suitcase on the floor "Don't worry, I like them. They're shiny, they reflect you" you say sitting on the floor, opening the suitcase which contains few stuff for a stay. Kaiser notices this immediately "You didn't bring much stuff" he says, sitting down on the bed, his knees a few centimeters from your face "I know. I'll buy something here or have the rest shipped to me somehow from Milano" you say, sticking out a underwear vest, which you decided on the spot that you will use as pajamas. Micheal nods almost immediately as he watches you place some of your things in the room. You missed these four walls, you missed everything and especially Kaiser

Right now, the situation you're in is even more confusing: even though you know he'll be out of town a lot, sooner or later the topic of that night will come up. And probably, knowing both yourself and him, other topics will come up in the heat of the moment. Your goal is to put this situation off for as long as possible, because adding this to your already stressed state would be fatal for you. At the same time though, you need so many answers that you can't count them on the fingers of your hands. However, you also need answers from yourself, because after a fresh breakup you already find yourself having such strange thoughts with the last person in the world you should have them about, your best friend

Best friend. Kaiser has been your best friend for a long time, but what are you actually to him? His best friend, he would tell you, the girl who is closest to him at the moment. But how can you still consider someone you slept with as your best friend and with whom you have always sought physical contact ever since, even as simple as holding hands?. The way you loved each other that night wasn't best friends, not even fuck buddies because otherwise you wouldn't have given it any weight once it happened. That gesture was dictated by love, and it scared you

Love had reduced you to something insignificant, and above all, loving Kaiser wasn't possible: he was your best friend, or at least that was the label you felt like saying. Loving him meant going back to that time many years ago where you had desperately loved him but never done anything to call him yours. You were a little girl at the time, now you were a woman and, above all, in the midst of a world class scandal. Everything indicated that there was no possibility, even remote, of being able to love him again. Then, you didn't really know what he thought about it, and on the one hand you preferred to stay in the dark so as not to face other problems

You were confused, maybe he was seriously having fewer problems than you were having everything. Maybe it really was all in your head

“Y/n” Micheal says, snapping you out of your thoughts that were seriously going to the worst “Sorry I got distracted, tell me” you say folding some sweatshirts, putting them in your new closet “I'm seriously happy to see you here again. I'd rather you be alone but well than with that crazy guy" Kaiser says, getting up from the bed as he approaches you. You watch him, his hands pulling you into a hug again, slower this time, as if he's taking his time: his arms slide along your sides, practically ending up on the outer part of your lower back, his head resting on your shoulder

You would like to say that his words don't have as much effect on you, that it's not a problem like all the others already on the list, but you would be lying. It's doing exactly what makes you even more confused, making your brain feel like goo

"Mihya, I-" you say embarrassed, not knowing how to respond to such an important sentence like his "You don't need to tell me anything. Let me stay like this for a few more minutes before I go to bed" he says against your neck, and now even that little bit of brain you had is now officially gone. You sigh perplexedly, now placing your arms around his neck as you let yourself be lulled by the beautiful sensation

“I'm glad to be back here. I missed all this” you say, caught up in the moment. You didn't tell a lie, because actually the first months away here were extremely complex, and still remained so after years. You fiercely loved the feeling of living with Kaiser, but for a long time you had had to hide it from Gabriel, thus minimizing trips to Germany and especially to the blond and blue boy's house

"I missed you instead" he says almost in a whisper, but it reaches your ears straight like a blow, an electric shock, straight to your heart

Maybe the situation was even more complicated than you imagined until a little while ago