#no kink shaming allowed here but this was wild

[asdro]

CW: Sexual stuff

Just a throwback to when after posting a thirsty pic on Reddit i received... This...

The plot twist it's that he was like such a really nice person

[universal-verringbebe]

LADS MEN AS YANDERES

Alternatively titled "when your boyfriend is a yandere but that's your kink"

a tentative 18+ MDNI because I don't get explicit but it's HIGHLY suggestive

Zayne:

• My man's is CRAZY possessive and dominant.

• You're not allowed to see any other doctors but him

• Even if he's busy with another patient, he demands that you wait until he's done, regardless of what kind of injury you have

• As soon as you officially get together, he has you moving into his flat

• You WILL be sleeping in his bed every single night, no exceptions

• Don't even think of taking a nap on the couch, it's the bed or nothing

• And you eat that shit up

• Every time he orders you to do something, you have to stop yourself from jumping him right then and there

• Like he'll put a glass of water in front of you and coldly order you to "drink" and suddenly you're on your knees trying to get your fluids from somewhere else.

• You have male friends? Not anymore.

• If some of them suddenly vanished because of some dude named Dawnbreaker, that's not your business.

• The type to have you in bed and make you talk before pleasing you

• "Say my name"

• "Good girl, now say it again but louder"

• "Tell me you're mine"

Xavier:

• He's absolutely the stalker type

• Before you even officially met him, he was stalking you for at least a year.

• The area you used to live in had a high crime rate but you never met any trouble

• Wild, wonder why

• When you moved to a new apartment, he was your neighbor, what a coincidence and he started bonding with you like that,

• Whenever you needed anything or was having trouble with something, he would conveniently be there with a solution.

• You start to suspect the stalking and confront him

• When he confirms you literally just say "wow that's hot, please take me now"

• And that's how you got together

• From then on, he's just glued to your side no matter where you go

• You get a new job? Who's that fine piece of ass that's your coworker? Oh, hi Xavier.

• In bed, and I will continue saying this on main with no shame for xavier specifically, BREEDING KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️

• He's going to fill you up whether you like it or not

• Spoiler alert: you like it

• "Just take it all my star, gonna make you give me a galaxy"

• "If I put a baby in you, then you really will have to stay with me forever"

Rafayel:

• THIS FUCKER IS MANIPULATIVE and NEEDY

• The moment he laid eyes on you, it was a wrap gg ez

• Like he deliberately will bump his car into yours at a stoplight, say it was your fault and demand your information

• Of course he's not going to make insurance claims or anything, he'll just buy you both a new car

• But now he has your number and you're never getting rid of him

• If he catches someone flirting with you, they'll suddenly find themselves without a job, homeless, in prison for 10 years for a crime he definitely committed and pinned it on them.

• And you're just here like, damn, you're so sexy when you ruin other people's lives🤪🥴🥵

• He said say less and proposed to you right then and there.

• How dare you not have your attention on him 25/8, do you even love him?

• Definitely needs affirmations every 0.3 seconds

• Also demands you prove your love to him. Like, if you love him, you'll pose nude in front of a whole class just so he can watch you squirm

• Spoiler alert: you're squirming because this arouses you

• LOVES marking you up and buying you revealing clothing to show his artwork off

• "They all need to know you're mine"

• "Don't cover that up. In fact, let me make it bigger, come here"

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Beach day with König

CW: 18+ only, protected p in v sex in a semi-public place, size kink, friends to lovers, possessive but slightly emotionally unavailable König

König wants to take you to the beach one day. He has water and some munch already packed, along with a bottle of sunscreen, and he's looking illegally hot there at your door with one of those rare smiles on his face.

You like to think he's reserved his smiles just for you, but the truth is you never know if König is flirting with you without knowing it, or if he's deliberately teasing you and making your heart ache. You can't get to the bottom of who this mysterious Austrian giant truly is, but you know he likes to spend time with you. That must count for something, right…?

You have to go to the same stall to change because there's a shortage of free changing rooms; it's the most beautiful day so of course everyone else is at the beach too.

You only need to grab your swimwear and towel, but you want to add your share to the beach picnic and so you quickly shove the last of the blueberry muffins you baked yesterday into a tupperware box. You almost melt on the spot when König says you have to feed them to him because his hands will soon be covered in sunscreen. Someone has to make sure you don't burn in the sun, oder nichts?

You've done all kinds of shit together but König has never seen you naked. You try to keep it cool – it's okay: you're both adults, it's no big deal. Friends can share the same changing room, and König has always been the perfect gentleman when it comes to these things.

It's just that you wouldn't mind if his eyes wandered a little... You know you wouldn't blame him for that, if he didn't blame you for taking a peek.

A little peek never hurt anyone, but you never knew what it would cost you. You never knew you'd end up against the stall wall with him inside you.

The reserved gentleman you used to know is completely gone. König tears the condom package open with his teeth and rolls the plastic protection on with no shame whatsoever. Trojan Magnum thin, you manage to catch as the torn package ends up somewhere on the floor of the changing room. You can't believe he came here prepared…

You wonder where his usual shyness went when he too cheated on his promise not to look when you change. You wonder where the polite, considerate man went when König presents himself to you, fully naked, uncut and huge.

You're barely able to nod when he bluntly asks if you want to fuck.

The shy, awkward recruit is nowhere to be seen as König raises you against the rough, unpainted boards and spreads your thighs. The sounds of strain and exertion mainly come from him sliding his cock into you, not from him having to carry your full weight.

You always thought your first time with König – if such a thing ever came – would be something more traditional, more romantic. You always thought it'd be a Netflix & chill kind of moment. This guy has taken you out to have a chaste little meal or to see some stupid movie, for weeks and weeks now. König has the most awful taste in films, but you've endured, just like you've endured his monologues about knives and sniping. König has offered you his huge sweater when you were cold, he's has entertained your need to read poems to him, just as bravely as you have entertained his silly ramblings about yet another Böker knife. You have done a million pranks to the other recruits together. Everyone at the barracks is sick of your stupid inside jokes, everyone says you two are the worst. The 'big goblin' and the 'small goblin', they call you apparently...

Close friends don't fuck like wild animals inside a changing room, you think while he rails you as controlled and muffled as he can – you fear what would happen to you, not to talk of the poor stall, if König was allowed to fuck you to his hearts and dicks content. You never knew the socially awkward but intense sniper candidate would take you to a beach and then ask if you want to fuck. On your worst days you've swallowed tears along with the shy question of would he ever want to be more than just friends.

The only time König ever touched you was when he allowed you to try his favourite rifle. The only time you ever kissed him was after your date nights, and even then it was just a quick peck on the cheek. You were never quite sure if you were just close friends with König.

You almost lose it when he grunts into your neck how he's wanted to do this for a long time. Wanted to fuck you, or fuck a woman against a changing room wall, you don't know, but you hold on to his sweaty neck as best as you can. You have to bite his shoulder to prevent loud, long-held cries from coming out. It only makes König more unhinged, though: you sinking your teeth in him like that.

Now he's infiltrating you with the passion of a man about to die if he doesn't get some pussy. Or like a dog, finally allowed to rut a female in heat. If you two were the only people here, he would probably sound like an animal, too. You know you would.

"When we... When we get back, I'll fuck you properly. Long, and hard. Hm?"

"Y–yes," you whisper on his skin – you don't know if you've ever been this flustered. You fear everyone on the beach will know what you've been doing just from how dumb you will look after this. The bite marks on König's shoulder are enough to tell people that your "close friend" is good at more than just shooting a gun.

When you cum, you sound like a widow sobbing at a funeral; when he cums, he sounds like he's dying from a stab wound. You both sound like two people trying to muffle their sorrow instead of trying to fuck their brains out.

And he won't let you down even when he's done with you. He won't let you down, not even as you squirm and whimper in his hold.

"You're mine now, right?" He pants into your ear while covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It's far from any kind of gentlemanly behavior, that low, possessive growl. Your eyes brim with tears – you like him too much when he's spontaneous and a bit crazy like this. You could fall in love with a man like König.

"I always was," you whisper, and he finally puts you down, content with everything you just gave him. You swear you just heard a soft, pleased rumble rising from that broad chest… But some part of that stoic, reserved soldier you know from the skills training and movie nights makes an appearance when you put your swimwear on. König is perfectly in control while you, in turn, are feeling awkward and completely flushed. At least there's no cum running down your thighs as you prepare for your day at the beach...

And who knew König would be so whiny? The condom you used is full as hell, and he has nowhere to put it because there's no trash can in the stall. He grunts as you try to hold in your laughter — he overall looks like he would prefer it if condoms disappeared from the face of the earth entirely so he could feel you without the plastic barrier in between. You giggle when you watch him smuggle it into the nearest trash after wrapping it inside a paper towel.

You spend the rest of the day at the beach, looking like you're the first people who have just discovered love and the fine art of fucking. He can't take his eyes off you, and you can't take his eyes off him. You play in the water, not as friends, but as lovers. Some elderly lady comes to scold you and says there are children here at the beach. You have your legs wrapped around König underwater, and your arms around his neck above: there's nothing lewd going on. But König grows red, all the way from the neck up. That's when you know he has probably never taken a woman in a public place; sometimes you wonder if he has ever taken a woman at all. The big Austrian sniper-to-be remains a mystery as he brings you some ice cream like the gentleman he is, then licks it off from your fingers like a starved dog. He's hot and cold, and confident and shy, feral and distant all in one day.

"You're mine now... All mine."

He "fucks you properly" when you get back, making your whole apartment smell of sex and desperation. And he says it again... That you belong to him. He says it with a shattered, hungry stare, both fragile and frightening.

[btskitten7]

My Cam Girl

Ship: Idol!Jungkook x Cam girl!Y/n

au/genre: sex cam worker au

rating: M

wc: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: Masturbation, mutual masturbation, sex talk. Vivid wet dreams. Breeding kink.

summary: The members have an odd obsession with you.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast

Jungkook wasn’t new to this type of thing. He had his fair share of experiences with cam girls and porn sites. He wasn’t addicted by any means, his schedule did not allow him the time to. But every once in a while, he would dibble and dab. 

Lately, his hyungs have been occupied. Their eyes were glued to their phone screens as if their lives depended on it. It took what felt like hours to regain their attention again. Jungkook wondered what had their attention so being the curious man he is, he asked. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook walked over to Hoseok and Namjoon occupied with whatever was placed on his screen. 

“Yeah?” they said in unison as they couldn’t even bother to look at him. 

“What are you looking at? You guys have been sitting here for almost an hour. We’re supposed to practice now. “ He asked. 

“We are looking at this cam girl Yoongi came across,” Namjoon said looking up at Jungkook briefly before looking back at Hoseok’s phone. 

“She’s so beautiful and adventurous. She’ll try anything for the right price” Hoseok said enjoying his piping hot noodles and showing his younger brothers a sexy picture of you. “She is one of the most beautiful women known to mankind. It’s a shame she’s in this type of business though. She’d probably make someone pleased.” Joon said, grabbing the phone and looking at your features.

“I was on Twitter and she popped on my timeline. I did some research and found her website” Yoongi said as he walked over, taking Hoseok’s phone from Joon to look at the photo. “Give it to me,” Jungkook asked. 

Jungkook was interested. You were beautiful. He was mesmerized by your body. Your curves were like no other. He wanted to check out your content. Yoongi handed Hoseok his phone back and sent Jungkook your socials. 

That night he spent a few hours just looking at your content. 

Of course, he watched some of your mature content but he also saw a few vlogs, and lifestyle like videos. 

He fell in love with your personality. 

You were sweet and bubbly. You enjoyed painting, cooking, and decorating. 

He enjoyed the vlogs a lot more than your spicy content, so he found himself looking at your vlogs more often. 

Jungkook noticed that much of your wholesome content didn’t have as much attention as your other content. It kind of made him sad. He thought back to what Namjoon said. 

You would make someone very happy. 

Physically, mentally, and sexually. 

~~~~~~~~

As the weeks went on, you became the topic of many discussions. Jungkook engaged with them but he also slowly became disgusted by the way they thought of you. 

The way HE thought of you. 

There was no question. You were amazing at what you did. 

Your sex appeal was out of this world. Even with your wholesome content, you still had Jungkook’s mind running wild. 

Whenever you posted or went live everyone darted to their room, where they stayed for hours at a time. 

And he was no better. 

He wanted to indulge but a part of him couldn’t. Most of the time he would just avoid it. 

But just like his hyungs, he was drawn in by you. 

You weren’t over the top or too animated. 

You didn’t make unnecessary noises or even say corny shit. 

You were able to pull your viewer in. At least you were able to pull Jungkook in. 

It felt really like he was truly the one in there with you. A few moments more of clicking around he heard a cute little chime.

The chime indicated that he had gotten a new message from you. His eyes widened and he clicked the icon that flashed the message. 

“Ah, that must be new” he mumbled to himself. 

He’s been on your website for a few weeks and has never noticed the message feature. 

“Welcome love, I’m (….) what’s your name or what would you like to be called?” He read. He frowned and looked at his pre-registered user.

“TheCockMaster3000” he questioned. He felt so embarrassed, that he quickly typed a response. 

“I didn’t come up with that name... I’m sorry” The three dots appeared letting him know you were responding. 

“I kinda figured sometimes the name generator generates horrible users” 

“But I mean if you want me to call you thecockmaster I have no issues ” you typed sarcastically.

 Jungkook chuckled to himself replying back

“no way, please don’t do that. Just call me JK” He said relaxing a little bit before hitting send.  

“JK? I like it. It’s mysterious, but I feel I’ve heard that before.” You responded. 

Jungkook’s body started to heat up. It was a big risk to his career if the wrong person found out who he was. He didn’t want to end up with a scandal. 

“You probably have, but trust me, I’m not him.”

“Okay! No biggie. Now JK, thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy ❤️” you said before getting up to finish getting ready. 

The way you go live is simple, you go live but you turn off all live comments, they can only respond and tip you anonymously. Only you know who’s saying what.

No judgment. No shaming. 

As you embraced the theme of tonight's ASMR vibe, you yearned to captivate your viewers with a touch of sensory play. You desired to be their canvas, a vessel for their imaginative needs. With a radiant smile, you turned on the camera, ready to embark on a sensory journey.

“Hello, my loves. How are you? It’s been awhile hasn’t it?” 

In a hushed whisper, you sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. Your voice was probably the most favoirte thing of Jungkook’s. You could tell him you hated him and wanted to take him out and he’d still fall in love with you.

“Tonight, we’re going to use our imagination. I’m going to help you imagine your personal, alone time with me, tonight you’re going to imagine me any way you want to. Is that alright?” 

Jungkook’s finger typed away a quick

response. “That’ll be great” he sent. Maybe that was too needy. He thought to himself but when you saw “TheCockMaster3000” you damn near busted out laughing. 

"Alright, I'd like you to gradually close your eyes and let go of any worries from today, yesterday, or tomorrow. In this moment, imagine that it's just you and me. You can share with me all the troubles you've encountered during the day as I gently and firmly rub your shoulders. My hands will move softly up and down your back, helping to relieve the stress and tension you've accumulated."

Jungkook’s eyes were closed and his mind slowly drifted away to that very moment. 

He began to feel hands, pressing against his shoulders, massaging them deeply. He groaned softly and looked behind him and there you were, as beautiful as can be. You were behind him in a gorgeous tub

Looking over a breathtaking view. His eyes were literally playing tricks on him but it was feeling amazing. He turned to you. “Is this real?” He asked looking over your features slowly, you giggled and sat on his lap slowly feeding him a strawberry that was dipped in Champagne

“As real as you want it to be” you slowly leaned down and kissed his pouted lips tasting the mixture of strawberries and liquor on his tongue. 

He deepened the kiss, no longer thinking that this was just a dream, he wrapped his arms around your waist slowly kissing down your neck.

Soft moans left your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t contain himself, he allowed you to sink onto his member, letting out a strong deep groan. Your lips connected again as your hips rotated and bounced on him, causing the water to splash onto the floor. 

It all happened very fast but he accepted it fully. 

Jungkook’s breathing picked up as he now is imagining you fucking him the very first-time “meeting” you.

“F-fuck baby,” you said biting your bottom lip as he now thrust in your deeply between the sheets of the beautiful room he had imagined solely off of your words.

“F-Fuck b-baby, i-im g-gonna c-cum! Fuck-” He hisses laying his whole body onto yours and pushing his member upwards into your drippy core. “F-fuck then cum baby, cum in me, make me full love” you moaned softly in his ear. Exactly how you were talking to your viewers.

As soon as Kook felt himself about to cum he snapped himself out of his daydream and his eyes popped open, meeting yours. 

“Open your eyes, my love” 

You smiled brightly at the camera like you were waiting for him to wake up…

“How was it? Please I wanna know”

Kook slowly looked down at his now cum-stained shorts cursing himself, wondering how the hell you managed to get him like that, through a laptop…

~~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks, Jungkook was still in shock. He could not believe you had him like that without being there. There’s no way. 

Sure he’s watched plenty of ‘videos’ before but he was never able to purely imagine something so vivid and real like that. 

Longing for a reprise, he yearns to delve even deeper into the realms of imagination evoked by your words. The desire to relive this experience consumes him.

“She’ll do anything for the right price” He repeated Hobi’s words to himself logging in and typing up a message to send you. 

“Um... hey, can I send in a request?” He asked hitting send, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. You felt your phone chime followed by a buzz. You quickly read the message. “Of course, what’s up?”

He felt a tad bit relaxed but still weird about it. “can you do what you did last week, tonight? I really enjoyed it. I hope I don’t sound like a crazy pervert..I’ll pay whatever you want ” he hit send tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair waiting for a response.

“I wasn’t planning on going live tonight sweetheart...but I’ll do it just for you since you’re new 💞” that made his heart drop, ‘duh she’s a real person of course she wouldn’t want to always be on live in a way she’s just like you, dumbass’ he thought quickly typing

 “fuck, no no no I’m so sorry, please don’t. I’m sorry I should have considered the fact that you may be tired or busy, either way I have no rights to demand your time. Whenever you would like to is fine with me” seeing that made you frown a little. 

“No sweetheart it’s okay, I have to provide the service you paid for💞🥺”

Now he felt worse, like he was being too demanding. “Idc, If you need time for yourself take it. I work crazy schedules too so a mental break is always needed. I can wait. Please rest. I can wait. I promise” he typed. 

That made your heart skip a beat. 

“Thank you... so much. You’re the only one that’s ever said that to me. Especially when making a request.. thank you 🥺” you replied. 

He felt bad but he didn’t want to force you to speak more on it. 

“Really? You need your rest.. you’re a real person that has real feelings and real problems if you need a break, we as your customers need to respect that. Your headspace is important” he typed back. You paused and smiled. 

You could cry right now. 

It’s a shame how the bare minimum makes you feel so validated but that’s what it’s like in this business. 

“Thank you.. thank you.. I really needed to hear that.” You paused and typed again. “How about, we do a private live? You can keep your camera off, I’ll just guide you just like last time.” 

You typed back. Kookies eyes widen as he ran to his door and closed it and came back. “Are you sure? Please don’t force yourself” he said. “No no no it’s okay, I’m just talking 💕” you smiled and hit send. 

He quick looked around his room to make sure everything was clean. Then he started messing with his hair. “Okay then... I’m ready” within minutes you had requested a private video chat. 

He took another quick look before answering the call. 

Your eyes widen at the beautiful human in front of you followed by a small chuckle. 

“Wow, Kookie, you’re adorable and you look very nice, I didn’t know we were dressing up. And for the record, you are exactly the JK I was thinking of.” you smiled softly adjusting yourself on your bed. You had your hair in a messy bun and a big black Tshirt on that fell off your shoulder revealing your soft skin. 

“I-I just...wow”

Jungkook was stuck at how beautiful you were, you had makeup on and a cute tight dress on last time, your hair was done and your lips was glossed. You were beautiful then but seeing you without makeup, hair in its natural wild state, 

You were absolutely gorgeous.

“U-uh yeah-” he cleared his throat “I’m sorry about that. I-I” 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m not here to judge you. I’m probably the last person that can cast judgment.” You snorted causing Jungkook to relax and chuckle. 

“How about we not judge each other?” He smiled and you nodded returning a smile of your own. 

“Deal” 

“Are you ready to begin?” You smiled lowering your voice cooing softly. The same tingling sensation came as you slowly started to directed him again. 

“Yes, pretty” Jungkook whispered sending that same tingling sensation throughout your body. 

You loved being called different pet names. Pretty was your all-time favorite.

“Jungkook, close your eyes and surrender to the present moment. Let go of all the worries that weigh upon your mind today, and don’t burden yourself with the uncertainties of tomorrow. I want you to immerse yourself completely in the sound of my voice and connect with your innermost desires. Is your mind clear and free, my love?” You whispered softly, watching as a sense of calm enveloped him.

Kook carefully opened his eyes to see where his mind has taken him today. 

In a beautiful modern palace everything was aesthetically pleasing to his eye. He wondered why he was here this time and why you weren’t, until The sound of splashing water and joyous giggles caught his attention.

Surrounded by aesthetics and beauty in the modern palace, he was taken back. You swam to the edge where he was and did a “come here” with your finger inviting him to join you in the water.. Disregarding his clothes, he eagerly moved towards you, embracing the refreshing embrace of the water.

Greeting him with open arms, you pulled him in and kissed him deeply. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your naked body and pulled you close to his now-naked body. 

The skin to skin contact drove him wild and it didn’t help that you were playing with his member underneath the water latching your lips underneath his jaw line.

Your hands went to work, touching every part of Jungkook that was available to you, you stroked his shaft, massaged his thighs and balls, listening to how him calling out to you, 

“P-pretty…please.” he moaned wanting to gain control but couldn’t, the hold you had over him was insane. 

No woman has ever had this strong of a hold over Jungkook. He was always in control. This was a unique change. 

And he liked it. 

“What is it baby, you want me to stop?” You purred in his ear listening to his moans and groans. 

“Fuck. Let me fuck you, I want to fuck you please” he begged, which shocked him, cause he never does that. 

Never.

The water slapped against your pussy as he had you bent over the wall of the pool, sending deep and long strokes to your core. Your moans were getting loud and so was his. “FUCK, baby faster faster” you moaned clenching around his hardened member. 

Feeling that familiar feeling

Jungkook eyes shot open, taken back at how you were getting off to him groaning and stroking his member. “Don’t stop baby, you can finish. It’s okay honey” you said looking into his red face... 

“I-I gotta go. T-thank you, pretty,” he said hanging up before you could even reply.

[skellymom]

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*Clone supportive cast characters with a non clone main character

*Clone OC's

*Clones showing up SOMEWHERE significant in the fic. Not just one clone character who is in and out and the rest is non clone characters

Probably the ONLY exceptions that break the other above rules could possibly be the following (and PLEASE feel free to steal these ideas):

*Characters fighting for Clone Rights in the Senate, battlefield, another planet, etc where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*Characters interacting in the story regarding the science or cloning actions of ANY of the Clone centered operations like on Kamino or any other planet, Hemlocks clone experimentation, shadowy cabal or Gov Tarkin planning something regarding the Clones, etc. where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*I'm cool with ALL CLONE CONTENT TYPES: action packed, slow burn, mundane, clean, comfort, angsty, sad, heart breaking, tragic, cliff hangers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, lovey-dovey, soothing, happy, domestic relationships, platonic relationships, hot romantic relationships, smut (off all kinds), aromantic, asexual, non-binary/genderfluid/gay/lesbian/bi/omni characters or targeted readers, baby batch, young cadet batch, etc. Your imagination is the limit!

READERS: PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNING ON THESE CREATORS FICS to make sure it's what you WANT to read! PLEASE BE DISCERNING DURING YOUR JOURNEY ON TUMBLR!!!

I am allowing some of the "problematic" ships.

AND BEFOR ANYONE COMES FOR ME, IT IS UP TO THE READER TO READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS ON THEIR JOURNEY IN "THE EYEBALL ZONE" WHILE READING FICS AND LOOKING AT VISUAL CONTENT.

I WILL NOT POLICE ANYONE.

NOT A FAN OF CENSORSHIP.

WILL NOT KINK SHAME.

THESE ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

IF YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR BEEF WITH A WRITERS CONTENT PLEASE TAKE IT UP WITH THEM. AND, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO IT CONSTRUCTIVELY AND DO NOT HARRASS OR TROLL THEM.

I am only one person and cannot know what some people find offensive or not. Yep, it's the interwebs and there are some things that are gonna shock you...probably even shock me. I'll leave it up to you to make those decisions and control your own content consumption.

Thanks for understanding.

*The writer MUST have a visible pinned post of their work at the top of their page! Need to make it easy for those visiting the links to find their work. Also, at this time if they are ONLY on Wattpad or Ao3 WITHOUT a visible Tumblr link (pinned post that is easy to find), I cannot list them. Again, doing this for ease of locating work and available for people primarily on Tumblr.

Also, if you suggest a creator, PLEASE make sure you spelled their Tumblr name correctly. Thanks for understanding!

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. So go check out my fics. It's called networking, baby! <3

[seeker-ophelia]

HAPPY DRAGON AGE DAY

Conniving Crows, Wicked Watchers, Lustful Lords, Vivacious Veil Jumpers, Wild Wardens, and Shrewd Shadow Dragons!

Me: THANK YOU SO MUCH EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU FOR FILLING OUT MY SURVEY! You: Lady, what are you talking about? Me: A couple weeks ago you filled out my survey! You: Oh yeah, whatever happened with that?

Well, let me tell you, good internet people!

Dragon Age: The Veilguard in “One Word”:

If I had a nickel for every "Fun, but..." or "Pretty, but..." responses, I would have a lot of nickels. "Fun but not Dragon Age" was my personal favorite.

If you don't see your verbatim response here, that's because there was 650 of you. And I had to take some liberties with verbiage here.

What were your Overall Impressions of Dragon Age: The Veilguard?

What did you like the MOST about Veilguard?

What did you HATE about Veilguard?

Ho, nelly, you guys.

186 (>28%!) of you used the “Other” box to expand on your ideas (which is part of why this graph is so uhgly) but I appreciate every single one of you sharing your thoughts with me.

19 (2.9%) of you said something pertaining to “The Writing” even though that wasn’t an option

112 (17%!) of you mentioned (at least one of) the words: shallow, pale, child-locked, darkness, nuance, choice, conflict, empty, sanitized, or (my personal favourite) toothless.  

Some “Hated” Honorable Mentions:

“Neve’s Hat”

Fuck off her fascinator is fascinating

“Not Being able to Swim”

I read it before and I still laughed; this one is the real MVP

The Death of Varric

☹

The one person who said “Harding”

I will fight you

The TWO People who said “Too many puzzles”

Bitch is this Taash? How did you get access to this???

**Shout out to the people who pointed out I spelled DIALOGE wrong, yeah I know sorry I’m an idiot

If Veilguard were to have a DLC, which Companion Characters would you want to see return the most?

I find it SO interesting that I asked for 5, and there were 5 VERY CLEAR winners...

(Cole, Dorian, Fenris, Merrill, Zevran, by a veritable landslide; there’s over 100 votes between the lowest – Merrill (284), and the next highest – Cassandra (177))  

To those of you who can’t read: the HoF, Hawke, and the Inquisitor are NOT Companion Characters.

Also, to the one person who responded: “No one deserves to be dragged through that” I see you.

*I did not have time to collate the data supplied in “Other” but I think there’s a pretty obvious winner here

And now, if a “Keep” DLC were to be made, which choices do YOU think are the most important to have?

Before we jump into that, I would just like to say how little these answers differ; despite my open ended question a LOT of people wrote the same things.

Some of you, bless your little hearts, explained your choices like im a dumb bitch who hasn’t been living in the wiki and played each game 2/3/5 times. Like I would be doing this and not know what Orzammar or the Architect is.  Bless your little worm spirits you’re so adorable.

Every person who said “Inquisitors Class” followed it up with (weird I know sorry uwu im so weird im sorry) like… guys. You know…. You are ALLOWED to have OPINIONS. And you’re not weird there was like 6 of you. You're not alone.

To the EVERYTHING/ALL OF IT people; I see you.

Four people were brave enough to admit they couldn’t remember anything, and 55 people didn’t write ANYTHING.

Behold, Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat:

Circle Fate: Fate of the Chantry Circles after DAI

DAI Wardens: Wardens exiled/accepted in DAI

Divine: Who you chose for the Divine (DAI)

Fade Fate: The Fate of the person you left in the fade in DAI

Mage/Templar: The outcome of the Mage/Templar conflict (not differentiated between Inquisition/2)

Southern Rulers: All three Rulers of Southern Thedas; Ferelden, Orlais, & Orzammar

The Well: Who Drank Mythal's Bathwater (dont kink shame me)

Any answer with less than 5 responses got taken out for brevity and are listed below:

(2) Nothing Cuz they destroyed the South, (1) ANYTHING!!!!!, (1) fuck you (bioware) for disregarding the entire lore of the first few games, (1) I think the most interesting things are the smaller stuff you don't expect to carry over.

(2) Andraste's Urn, (2) Avernus (research), (1) Awakening companions fates, (2) Calpernia's Fate, (3) Cass/Tranquility, (2) Clan Lavellan Status, (1) Cullen/Lyrium, (2) DA:O Dalish Clan, (1) DA2 Isabela, (2) DA2 Qunari Plot outcome, (1) Dagna (Magic School), (1) Danarius, (1) Disband/Keep Inquisition, (2) Faded for Her Result, (3) Hawke Siblings Fate, (2) Inquisition disbanded actual consequences, (1) Inquisition Support of Nevarra or Tevintrer (josephine war table quest), (4) Inquisitors Class, (1) Iron Bull, (1) Isabela, (1) Paragon of her Kind (Golems), (1) Prisoner at Ostagar, (1) Rule of 3, (1) Save/Stop Solas, (1) Sha-Brytol dwarves, (1) Shale, (4) Solas/Inky Approval, (1) Solassan Implications, (1) Solavellan Vallaslin, (1) Soldier's Peak, (2) Sten, (2) Zevran/Darker Crows.

To the one person, who commented: “I think the most interesting things are the smaller stuff you don't expect to carry over.” I see you. And I am percolating.

If the Devs/Anyone at BioWare happens to see this, the last question I asked was this:

If you could ask the Devs/Writers of Veliguard one thing, what would it be?

A lot of responses are focused on the lore. More are questioning the narrative & lore decisions & implications of VG. Some are begging for DLC. Some are flat out rude. One is a proposition. But there are a fair amount of people who want to ask you;

‘hope you're okay’

‘How are you holding up?’

‘I hope despite everything you know that your creation is loved and adored.’

‘THANK YOU!!!’

Intelligent fans know the development Hell VG went through to be born. They know corporate culture. They understand there's often more than meets the eye. Fans of Dragon Age know what heavenly good delicious golden content BioWare can make. And they're hungry for it. Take some well deserved rest, and then come back to the table with us, because we cannot wait for more.

A Sappy Little Note:

I have Zero online presence and really expected to get about 100 responses total, and I got 650 (*mind blown emoji*), I wasn’t even able to share it to reddit main (bc of the fvbjvks mods). Most of these responses are from YOU GUYS on good ol’ tumblr.com and Im so weepy about how you all got involved and shared your thoughts with me Thank You SO MUCH.

For those of you who messaged me about the DLC, you are not forgotten. Believe it or not, I have a plan. Watch your inboxes over the next couple days, because I’m going to be prickling your creative brains over the Holidays.

Once more, Thank You All, so so so much for participating. Bare your blade, remain vigilant, and keep an Eye out for The Agents.

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC

AO3: lunarheslwt

Tumblr: @lunarheslwt

STATS:

✤ Number of fics: 35

✤ Posting Since: 2015

TOP 5 FICS:

1️⃣ Wind beneath my wings {E, 93k}

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered.

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

2️⃣ Breathe me in, breathe me out {G, 14k}

Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something. He felt calm. Relaxed. The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him. “Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.” Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him. “I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits. “You’re gonna kink shame me?”

Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers

3️⃣ Devil in my brain, whispering my name {E, 9k}

“Tell me, angel, are you curious? To know what it’s like, to be touched…” Louis tapped his lip lightly, “here?” A short, harsh breath fanned across his finger. “Or,” Louis drawled, bringing their hips together with a sharp pull, making Harry gasp once again, louder, “here?” “Louis…” “Or maybe even,” Louis skimmed a taunting hand past the curve of his clothed arse, merely grazing, “here?” Harry shuddered viscerally. “Please.” “So polite, so proper,” Louis mocked, “will you let me taint you just a little, hmm? Let me show you how good it feels to give in to temptation?”

Or, Louis, a demon, shows Harry, an angel, just how good it can feel to give in to temptation and sin.

4️⃣ Swap me for your shadow {E, 16k}

“…I’m just … so in love with him.” Louis blinked. What??? This hushed revelation from Harry came like a gunshot- loud - and made his heart plummet. He could hardly process it, as he stood there freezing in the wind, hidden behind the balcony door. Harry was … Harry was in love?? Since when?? The shock and confusion that had fallen over him like a bucket of ice was slowly washed over by a feeling that ran hot and acidic. Somehow, it gripped around his lungs tighter, more cruelly. Harry was in love with someone….and it wasn’t him.

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

5️⃣ On a starlit night {M, 24k}

“Then… then, what is your motive?” “Must I have one?” Louis scoffed. “What, so am I to believe you just woke up one day and thought ‘Yeah actually, I would like to be one of the suitors of my pack Luna’s ceremony’?” “There’s no motive, nothing like you’re thinking,” Harry replied, glancing at him. “I don’t know what the alphas out there want. I just want a chance to show that I can be a good alpha that can fulfil your needs, both as your mate as well as in supporting you in your Luna duties. Just a chance to show you how well I could care for you, if you were to pick me.” Louis was floored by his sincerity. “That’s all you want? Just that?” Just me? “Yeah.”

Or, omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.

HIDDEN GEM:

💎 Everything I need, I get from you {M, 6k}

“I’m sorry for ruining our Valentine's Day plans :(“ Louis was shaking his head at Harry's text before he even gave the phone back. “You haven’t ruined anything, Haz. Don’t say that. We can have a day in, and it’s still going to be just as good.” Harry didn’t look convinced, as he typed in something else. “But it’s because of me. I’m sorry Lou.” Louis nudged his chin up gently. “Haz, look at me. You don’t have to be sorry, okay? Where we are or what we do does not matter to me. What matters to me is that you’re happy and okay." Louis did not give Harry time to protest, before he was adding, “Besides, who says Valentine's Day needs to be cancelled?” Harry’s eyes fixed on him curiously, cocking his head as if to ask, ‘what?’ “We can have our own version of Valentine's Day at home, hmm? A quiet day in. We watch a film, have something to eat, and cuddle?” Or, it's Valentine's day and Harry wakes up fatigued. Louis shows him that a change of plans is not a bad thing, and that the day can still be perfect as long as they spend it together. A quiet day full of love ensues.

[almost-correct-quotes]

reverie audios nsft hcs (part 1 maybe)

pretty long, under the cut, open at your own risk. also i wrote like all but 2 of these before i listened to the patreon lol.

uh nothing too hard, no cnc or anything super rough to warn about

in no particular order

neo/darling

darling and neo have definitely done a predator/prey thing before. it wasn't really something on darling's radar before neo mentioned that they look at him like he's prey, then they had a little bit of an awakening. (yes i have a wip about this)

shifters tend to go into a slightly more animalistic headspace or vocalizations when in extreme situations. like neo might skitter away when overwhelmed or darling might make little yelps when excited. anyway, neo's neighbors aren't sure where the fuck wild foxes are near them or why they sound like they’re in heat year-round. (i don't have a wip about this yet but this would be such a hilarious outsider pov fic i swear)

neo's favorite positions are anything with darling on top of him, anything that lets him feel comparatively small and weak and dominated.

darling's actually a switch, and they had a massive ah fuck that's hot moment in response to neo saying they were acting like a puppy. (yes i have a wip kinda about this)

neo/darling slightly feral half-shifted sex >>>

gage knows when neo and darling first had sex because the morning after, neo shows up to work with a massive bite mark on the crook of his neck only mostly hidden by his shirt.

darling will absolutely lick neo, cum on him, rub their cum into his skin, etc., until their scent on him is so strong even his senses can pick it up.

neo has a praise kink a mile wide. best thing in the world to him is being on his knees for darling, their hand pulling his hair hard, while they growl sugar-laced obscenities at him. that’s it, take it so well, such a good kit for me. god, fucking take it, you’re so good, as they fuck his face.

darling is the only person alive allowed to call neo ‘little fox’ without getting decked. it's a cute little lightly-embarrassing pet name usually, and very fucking hot to have growled in his ear when he's being bent in half like the prey he is.

*sigh* canines mark property by pissing on it, so. i don't really go here but. sure.

neo goes a little bit brainless when he gives head, so at least once he’s made darling cum from it and just kept going until they physically pulled him off, making him whine at the loss.

darling doesn't really have a gag reflex, so they love taking neo down to the base and staring up at him through half-lidded eyes with that predatory look on their face, making him squirm even more.

law/sweets

when law's needy he'll kiss sweets and nick his lip on their fangs on purpose so they taste his blood.

don't get law wrong, essence eaters' fangs' healing ability is very impressive, from a healer's perspective. from a possessive bastard's perspective, absolutely a shame having his blood drank doesn't leave obviously visible marks.

essence eaters have tails! thin, long tails with pointed ends. where did you think sex demons got that from; they're inspired by essence eaters, after all. the teratophile in law absolutely loves sweets', to the extent where they've fucked him with it, wrapped it around his cock, or had him suck it off.

gage/bug

gage has a massive thing for being tamed. like, yeah, being a good boy is great, but it's so much more fun if someone put him in that role themself.

gage praises bug near-constantly in bed, regardless of who's domming. he just can't stop running his mouth about how good they make him feel and how hot they are.

the inferno dominion

dion's dream is being in between kane and bunny, sitting on kane's cock while bunny rides him. kane, holding his hair a bit, biting at his neck, bunny, bouncing on his cock, shifting kane's inside of him every time. maybe they'd grab him by the horns and use them like handlebars.

oh, speaking of. horns are just bones, really, there's no feeling in them. the base of them, though, where they meet the head, is an erogenous zone.

it'd be good for dion to get teased and denied until he (kane voice) uses his words and begs asks for what he wants.

the real reason dion hates shirts is because he can't get t-shirts over his horns and buttons are annoying with claws and he fucking loves it when bunny stares at his tits.

canon divergence where bunny and kane decide, yk what, dion can go do his own thing, we'll just have rebound sex instead of going to hell australia.

ellis/gem

ellis with (intentional) electroshock. hear me out-

axel/sunshine

barring circumstance, axel's a thigh biter. his absolute favorite way to drink blood is from between someone's thighs, smirking up at them and teasing them until he sinks his teeth into their thigh. of course, blood isn't his favorite, but it's a nice teaser (pun intended).

cyril/dove

masochist cyril. dove finds out when they give him a little slap on the hip and he fucking twitches and whimpers, so they go a bit harder, and so on.

cyril hand kink. i know it's random but the cyril/dove burn had too much emphasis on handholding for me to not throw it in here. he'll get distracted staring at their hands while they type/write, thinking about how they'd feel across his body. (yes i have a wip about this)

sometimes dove'll absentmindedly feel cyril up, and he'll just be sat there, trying as hard as he can to stay silent. (he always fails. it takes, like, a minute for him to be pressing himself into their touch "covertly") (yes i have a wip about this)

dove initiates sex much more often than cyril, not because they're hornier than him, but because whenever cyril is in the mood, he doesn't actually do anything about it, he just gets spacey and stares at them more until they initiate it for him.

i just have to mention the leash line. he'd look so good on his knees wearing nothing but a collar and leash. dove could keep him as a desk pet (in their apartment, of course, they're not that risky) and make him beg to be touched when he's gotten needy from just warming them.

general

personally i think demons (and maybe essence eaters but definitely demons) should have xenodicks. get weirder with it. (yes i have a wip about this)

[notsocheezy]

V-Day - The First Twenty-Four Hours

Guess who's got two thumbs and no penis? That's right, this girlish-shaped thing!

👍👍

My "the surgery" went off without a hitch! And it couldn't have happened at a weirder time. The news has been absolutely wild this week, hasn't it? Mass Windows system outages, Biden dropping out of the presidential race... probably some other stuff... I'll be honest, I'm a little woozy from the Oxycodone, so a lot of the past week escapes me at the moment. But let me tell you all about the first day. I still remember most of that.

I arrived at the hospital at about 5AM yesterday, and they had me wipe down with CHG wipes even though I'd just taken a CHG shower. I guess they like to be safe. But it leaves a residue that isn't the most pleasant thing in the world. It's kind of like when you step out of the ocean and the salt dries onto your skin in a fine, well-seasoned flaky layer.

After that, they gave me a morphine injection into my spinal fluid, which according to the pain management guy, reduces the overall necessary intake of opiates/opioids (what is the difference between those anyway?). So far that seems to be very true. My new bits don't hurt in the slightest even now, after the injection has worn off.

On the other hand, though, there has been excruciating pain in my chest and shoulders. You see, this was a laparoscopic surgery performed with a fancy robot - the DaVinci XI - and they had to pump me full of CO2 so they'd have room to work. That's right folks - I'm carbonated. And they didn't just give me one new hole, but an additional five incisions on my abdomen, which also don't really hurt but damn are they itchy. It turns out though, being a human balloon is a really bad experience. If I'd had an inflation kink before, this would probably have killed it in its tracks.

When I woke up in Recovery, I was at 10/10 on the pain scale. It was truly miserable. They had to inject me with Fentanyl (Ooooooh, scary!) just so I could breathe. Once they did, though, I was fine. That is, until they moved me onto the bed in my room several hours later. Now the pain comes and goes, but I'm on pills for that.

Other than the chest pain, the most uncomfortable thing is the catheter. It constantly feels like I've just gotten back from a long road trip without pit stops, or the credits just rolled on an IMAX screening of Oppenheimer (I saw that twice, by the way). I have to pee so damn bad, but I'm just kinda... always peeing. Very weird. Nice not to have to get up, but I'm not even really allowed to get up. Which is a shame, because I'm told moving around will help the CO2, ahem, escape. Via the most obvious channel, of course.

On that note, I was on a liquid diet until about an hour ago, and now I've got an omelet and some oatmeal that they forgot to put sugar or salt in. They really want to get my guts up and running again - they gave me a laxative and a stool softener. But I'm nervous about getting up from the bed. I've got more wires attached to me than my PC at home, so I'll need to unhook everything to get to the bathroom.

Anyway, other than being misgendered a concerning amount of times by people who should be able to read the word "vaginoplasty" on my chart, everyone has been very kind. I thought I'd be more scared and depressed being left in the hospital by myself, with all my loved ones hours away, but I've been able to make friends with the nurses.

If you're on the fence about getting this done because you're scared of the recovery process, don't worry. I'm only a day in and I'm doing just fine. Electrolysis was significantly more painful down there than this is. Can't speak for more traditional methods, but the robot is damn good. I, for one, welcome our new robotic sex-change overlords.

Anyway, stay tuned for more. I'm here all week.

[hpsnooze]

Rules & Guidelines 2023 🛌💭

Do you like sleeping? (Who doesn't?) Do you like reading/writing/drawing your favorite characters sleeping? Auror Harry hitting the sac with Draco after a long day in the field? Post-War Pansy curling around Hermione when she gets a nightmare? Or maybe Neville conked out in History of Magic again?

Well, look no further! HP Snooze Fest is here for all your sleeping needs 😴 We are a non-anonymous self-posting fest focused on sleeping and dozing. Simply upload your work to the collection or post on Tumblr between Oct 1-Dec 31.

💤 Schedule

Prompts Released: Sep 1 (here) Claiming Opens: Sep 1 (here) Self-Posting: Oct 1-Dec 31 (here)

💤 Rules

Participants must be age 18+! There will be explicit and dark content as part of this fest. Please follow the age restriction.

MUST FEATURE SLEEPING! We have a list of 50 snooze-worthy prompts to choose from, each one related to sleeping in some way.

All mediums welcome! Fic, art, podic, craft, bookbinding, playlist, moodboard, ASMR video... you name it, we love it!

Any length welcome! No length restrictions. Microfics, oneshots, and multi-chaps are all welcome.

Any ship, any rating, any content!* We follow SALS, KINKTOMATO, and DLDR. We love all ships, kinks, and content (explicit, dark, Dead Dove, etc). We will not tolerate ship bashing, kink shaming, or any targeted forms of harassment.

Tag your works! Please use the standard archive warnings (Graphic Violence, MCD, Rape/Non-con, Underage) and include common trigger warnings if applicable.

Must be a new work! It may be a WIP but must not yet be published before the beginning of the fest. Works may be part of an ongoing series (ex: a prequel/sequel to an existing work).

No AI-generated content! All works must be human-made (or creature-made, we suppose). Computers do not count as alive.

Can combine with other fests! If they're cool with it, then so are we. The more fests the merrier.

Self-prompting is allowed! Don't see a prompt you like? No problem! Just choose the self-prompt option during claiming. As long as your work features sleeping in some way, go wild!

💤 Submitting

On AO3: Claim a prompt (or multiple), then upload your work to the collection on AO3 and fill out the 'Fulfill a Claim' field. You may claim a prompt and upload a work as soon as prompts are released on Sep 1. However, works will remain hidden until Oct 1 when the official posting period begins. Optional, tag your work with 'HP Snooze Fest 2023'.

On Tumblr: Mention us @hpsnooze and tag your post with #hpsnooze2023. We will reblog!

💤 Links

Have a question? Ask us!

AO3 Collection: HP Snooze Fest 2023 (hpsnooze2023)

Prompt List: AO3 & Tumblr

Happy creating and happy snoozing! 😴

*Content restriction: We cannot accept explicit art depicting underage characters (under the age of 18) for legal reasons.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 12 -- Caesar

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 12 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Somnophilia with Caesar x F!Six

Caesar is... super creepy and bad overall. Just had to put that out there. He's a bad guy, a very shitty person, and this is him still being shitty and bad.

That being said... he is pretty interesting to write for? Just the way that a person's mind, when they are practically deified, can become so egotistical as to think that the universe literally revolves around them and their experiences was just... wild to explore.

Anywho, I hope y'all like it?

This is another one though, DEFINITELY read the included for a whole SLEW of TWs.

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: (nonconsensual) Somnophilia, medical play, noncon/rape, aphrodisiacs, slavery, legion bullshit, entitlement & ego, restraints, (really) possessive sex, unhealthy relationships, obsession, allusions to erectile dysfunction, painful sex, breeding kink, purity kink, delusional and misogynistic Caesar, creampie, (author approves of absolutely none of this at all).

Words: 4k

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“She looks so innocent this way, so… vulnerable. But I suppose that’s what sleep is, isn’t it? Vulnerability… You know,” Caesar ran his fingers over the sleeping courier’s arm, keeping his gaze locked to her peaceful expression, even as his head turned to better address Siri, where she stood across from him in the extended room of his tent. “Most social species understand this very idea. They post sentries for the pack while the others sleep, while they are exposed, unable to resist any fate which may befall them whilst they’re unconscious… A shame the courier didn’t have the option, nor the social resources, to take such measures. Hmm... When will she wake?” 

He spoke still without looking at the slave. Siri need not be paid any mind, as she was merely the administrator, the examiner, and now her job was finished. Now, he and Six could be alone. 

Finally. 

“Soon.” She answered him quickly. “The herbal mixture should pass through her system in the next half hour, or so. Shouldn’t be longer than that, surely. Though, it’s not always easy to tell when–”

“Enough. That answer was adequate, I don’t need to hear your rambling. Is mine ready yet?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted before she could utter so much as a word. 

“A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice. I don’t need every ingredient involved, or your life’s story.” 

“Yes.” Siri’s voice was monotone. Unemotive, but unbothered. 

It wasn’t like this sort of interaction was uncommon. 

And Caesar… while he appreciated her function in his society, he’d never taken a particular liking to her. One thing was certain now, though. She didn't envy Courier Six. 

“Good. You’re permitted to leave.” 

She nodded to him, almost more akin to a bow, and moved to take her leave, before his cold voice stopped her once more. 

“Oh, and Siri? Tell the others I’m not to be disturbed.” 

One more affirming nod, and the tent flaps opened to allow her through. As they fluttered to a close, Caesar tore himself from Six’s table and went to take the herbal mixture Siri had left him into his hand. He swirled it around curiously in the mortar she’d prepared, before downing the bitter potion with a grimace. 

The taste may have been rather grotesque, but the effect of the mixture was near immediate. Or perhaps it was merely placebo, but it mattered not. If it worked, who was he to care?

Caesar sighed aloud as he felt his body physically warm, his spine tingling as an anticipatory feeling settled deep in his gut. It was almost as though he could feel the way his pupils dilated, the way his blood ran hotter and faster through his veins. 

The absence of pain was a boon as well, particularly in his head. He’d often considered utilizing this mixture’s effects on his worst headache days for that reason, but there were… adverse symptoms to consider. 

Symptoms which he now planned on taking full advantage of. 

“You have managed to do the near impossible, my pet.” He spoke now to the unconscious Six, strapped down on the medical cot she’d been examined upon. His voice was low, strained with a growing intensity of feeling, of the sensations roiling within him. Caesar was relieved no one was here to witness the way he was, so quickly, becoming undone. 

“You…” Caesar paused to pant out a few heavy breaths, trying to keep from becoming completely overwhelmed at the licentious feelings spiraling through him, the promiscuous thoughts that barricaded his usually composed and aplomb mind. “You have surprised me. Quite the feat, I know.” 

He approached her now, prowling like a possessed animal until he could brace his stiff hands on the side of the cot, and then run his fingers over her bare side. 

Naked women in the Legion were about as common as clothed ones in any other society, but even still, to look upon the courier so wholly… The delicacy of it had his mouth watering, had his tongue wanting for a taste of what was now his. 

Scars small and large littered her otherwise delicate skin, her muscles were toned from surviving in this harsh land, like many of the slaves they kept on such a rigorous schedule of serving. But even still… there was something alluring about her… unremarkable visage. Perhaps it was that she was a dead woman walking, as surreal to gaze upon as a ghost, but no less beautiful than a dancing spirit, however haunting one might be. She was the one, the point zero one percentile, that could evidently survive anything the wasteland threw her way. It was admirable; her tenacity, her cunning, the way she’d tried to betray him… her innocence too, was something he found tasteful. 

Of course he’d been tracking her every move, having Vulpes or another Frumentarius listen in on her conversations. If he was ever going to trust her, he needed to know where her loyalties lay. 

Caesar would never trust her though. Trust is a fickle thing that would just as soon stab you in the back as promise to be in your life forevermore. 

No, but if he could control her… Then he could explore this curiosity of his, he could understand her, inside and out. She could be his. 

All he needed was this. Siri to put her under, to do an examination, ensure she had no wasteland diseases she could give him, no seed of a previous partner already festering inside her, where only he belonged. 

But the girl had come up clean. So clean, in fact, the minx had him wondering if she was pure… Oh, to be this creature’s first… To take something from this extraordinary person that can never be returned to her, and make it– make her– his own. 

You’d have to be a fool not to see that Six was created for him, brought to him like fate delivers years upon the living; inevitably, forcefully, demanding your attention. Their meeting was as certain as the sunrise, as notable as the stars, and he’d known, from that moment, when he saw the twin scars upon her forehead, when he felt his pain pulse cripplingly in that very same spot within himself that he saw marked upon her… Caesar knew that their futures were tied with one another with so many bounds of rope. 

“Now…” He continued speaking to her in hushed tones, his voice rough from the climbing arousal spreading through his body. “Now I will make you mine.” 

His hands had been exploring her all the while Caesar was in his thoughts, dragging his shaking fingers over her smooth torso, her lower stomach, up to her shapely throat, her full breasts. Those, he paid particular attention to, noting the way he felt his cock begin to swell, with more than just what the herbs provided him. 

A rare talent indeed.

He’d thought maybe it would be worth seeing if she could keep him hard all on her own, if she could get him all the way through his climax… But the herbs became more attractive when he remembered how long they lasted. 

If only her own medication lasted longer. I like her this way. Pliant, yielding. Unable to interrupt me or refuse me at every turn. 

There was a certain appeal to her resistance of him, the fire in her, and she chose to showcase it with her words and wit more so than with physicality, which was refreshing, but he wanted to at least be able to get her ready for him without such a fuss. 

Six was tied down, so he didn’t fear too much unwillingness from her in that sense, but she was strong-willed, and would fight the arousal Caesar was bound to bring her, and if she truly was innocent, well…

He’d rather not have her in pain. As much as that sort of discipline worked wonders on their slaves, Six was his, not the Legion’s. He would not have her completely broken before she’s able to properly serve. 

In time, who knows? She may come to have affection for him. Caesar knows that the possibility is there from the feelings he often finds festering within himself on those sleepless nights he thinks of her; the conversations they’ve had buzzing about his aching head, her expressions, the annoyed ones and the inquisitive ones, her anger and her mirth. 

Caesar looked forward to the myriad of looks he would be privy to tonight. 

Without further preamble, the Legion leader set his sights between her slightly spread legs. The bonds were holding her knees wide enough apart for him to slot his hips between them, but there would be time enough for that soon…

First, he set a finger upon her, starting at her entrance and smoothing the pad of it between her lower lips until he felt the point of her clit. She was still slick from the jelly Siri had used to examine her, but he could do better. 

Raising that same hand to his nose, Caesar took a deep inhale and felt his limbs shake with anticipation as her musky, sweet scent curled around him until he could all but taste it. He was almost tempted to drink from the source, as it were, but that was for a night when she’d earned it, for when he was feeling more patient, and his erection wasn’t practically ripping a hole in his tunic. 

No, he decided. Just his hands, for now. 

Before he carried on, Caesar adjusted the bed that way he’d seen Siri do it, dropping it to be perfectly level with his hips. 

It was orgasmic already, the way his head didn’t ache, the way the most discomfort he could feel was emanating from his swollen cock, and that too, would soon be rectified. 

Caesar’s hand returned to her then, two fingers stroking around her folds, spreading the moisture that was already there down to her entrance and back up to brush over her sensitive little nub. Sparingly, he rubbed there with his thumb as well, until he felt it begin to swell under his touch and saw the way her hips twitched unconsciously upwards in her sleep. Usually, Caesar would never opt to give a woman pleasure this way. She was meant to derive it from ‘the bliss of servitude,’ but he knew it was bullshit. It was meant to demean them, and give his men an excuse not to be too distracted by the slaves here. They were meant to be used, not fallen in love with, not doted over, not pleased. 

Six was his, though, and while he would discipline her the way he might a slave at first, he also planned on rewarding her when she was deserving of it. 

Six’s breathing picked up in her sleep, and Caesar looked on with intensity at the way her brows furrowed over her closed eyes, the way her breasts jostled with every breath, the way her muscles tensed beneath his attentions. He licked his lips at the sight of it, at the feeling of her own unique wetness beginning to gather over his prodding fingers. 

No more waiting. Caesar told himself, and pulled his hand away, scowling at the way her movements ceased, her breath slowed again. 

She’ll be awake any minute. 

Caesar stepped back to pull apart his tunic, moving the folds so he could reveal his erection to his unconscious companion. He hissed as the moist tip met the cool air of the Mojave night, and felt goosebumps erupt over his arms and the back of his neck at the sensitizing feeling. Trembling slightly, the leader stepped forward, his hand shaking as it guided the broad head of his cock to her little entrance. Six’s lower lips were dark with arousal that he dreamed mirrored his own, as he noted the dark color encasing his member, the way his own pre-arousal leaked from the weeping slit. 

“Tu eris bonum mihi, meus deliciae, won’t you? My Six…” 

It wasn’t often he became sentimental, least of all with women, but this… Caesar wished he could document it somehow. It felt pivotal, significantes, Homeric… fateful. 

There were no proper words to describe the overwhelming feeling of one’s fate being fulfilled, of two destinies intertwining for the first time, when it was bound to have been planned out from the very dawn of the ages of man, and of the earth itself. 

Perhaps he could request a painting from one of his more talented artists to commemorate an event such as this…

She was warm against him as he rubbed the tip of his length along her folds, not wishing to stall, but not wanting to rush through this process either. It would only happen once, after all. Especially if this was the moment in which he was stripping her purity away, in favor of endowing her with the honor of his occupancy en perpetuum.

With that thought fresh and desirable in his mind, Caesar slotted the head of his cock against her opening, pushing forward an inconsequential smidge, to the feeling of only a little resistance on her part. 

A good sign. 

A sigh escaped him as he gripped his cock more firmly with his hand, the other resting on her hip, his fingers sinking and dimpling the skin there. 

She will accept me. 

His eyes stayed trained between her legs as he began to unreservedly press inside. The movement only grows in its unyielding nature, as he feels her entrance stretch around him, as her walls expand to take his very shape. Like the artists of old, Caesar took her body like a slab of marble, etching his name into her, shaping and molding her to the image he perceived, to the one he desired. Her face was a work of art in and of itself, as Six’s eyes finally fluttered open, the color of them startlingly vivid as her gaze met with his. It was hazy with her fatigue, but her brows were drawn together in what he could only determine as discomfort. 

It was all he could hope for. 

Six waking up just as he settled completely within her. She was utterly full of him, and her breath hitched as the image she was met with made sense in her fatigued mind, as it melded with the sensations of her body. 

She was likely to be sore already, what with Siri’s thorough examination, but after his anticipated attentions, Six would be lucky if she could stand in the morning. 

With that smug thought, Caesar wrapped both hands around the swell of her hips, and hauled himself out until only the tip of his cock remained. Six’s eyes widened and glistened at her waterline as she felt the drag of him leaving her, and then, he slammed back in. It was with distinct effort that Caesar kept himself from repeating that euphoric action immediately and with even greater vigor. 

Just once is enough. For now.

No breaking her. His cross mind reminded him. We have time. 

“W-wha.. The hell?”

Six’s voice was weak, slurred a bit from her groggy awakening, but Caesar paid her no mind, only kept his eyes trailing hungrily over her form as he pulled back and delivered another dizzying thrust into her. Though this time, he did force himself to hold back, to move more slowly, despite the herb-enhanced sensations urging him on, on, on.

“F-fuck, what the hell? What are you doing?”

The pain of his last invasion seemed to spike her into reality faster than was usual with the medication she’d been given. Caesar couldn’t complain though. Not now that he was firmly within her, not now that his plans were in full motion.

“Taking what is mine by right. Lex nostra est. You are a woman in the Legion, what did you expect?” He spoke to her almost passively as he continued focusing on the physical, the bliss sparking through his doped up body as his pace steadily increased. 

Truly, Caesar was being quite polite in terms of the Legion. He’d warmed her up, he was taking his time, he didn’t punish her for the way she spoke to him, so out of turn.

Others in her position likely would have been on their way to a cross by now.

Due to the circumstances though, Caesar would allow his Six a few select liberties. For now.

“Yours by– goddamn it, I never should’ve– Ah, fuck, get off of me!”

A panic seemed to set in, and she shouted rather dramatically as she strained against the ties that held her firmly to the cot. 

“I’m serious, you asshole, get off of me now!”

Caesar paused in his thrusting, feeling the distinct pulse of his cock within her spasming walls as he panted heavily from above her struggling form.

“You command me?” He scoffed, “I don’t think so. Not here. Are you so blind as to not see it?” 

Six's confused expression and distracted squirming were enough of an answer for him. 

“The way that you belong with me?” He punctuated it with a violent surge of his hips against her, and Six's gaze locked to him with a gasp, as she fully ceased her struggles. Pure horror shone through her expression, disbelief and fear and disgust rampant in those vivid eyes, and Caesar had to keep from slapping her. 

Am I really alone in my belief? It cannot be so…

Instead, he hiked his hips out of her until only his tip remained, and drove forward painfully until his hips smacked audibly against the skin of her ass. A yelp of pain left her throat unwillingly as he repeated the action, testing the strength of the cot’s bonds with every fervent, furious movement. 

“You. Are. Mine.” Each word left him with a forceful buck of his hips, his teeth gritting together painfully as he felt his anger boil up inside him.

So be it. If breaking the ungrateful whore will get her attention, if it will force sense into her unreasoned mind and inject understanding into her stubbornness, then that is the sacrifice I will make.  

The herbs he’d been given were known to do this as well, to increase all sensations, in addition to libido, to make one have less reservations, to feel emotions more vividly than usual. 

Perhaps he should have saved a sip of the mixture for her. Maybe then her potential affections for him could've been forced to the surface.

“I’m not yours.” Six spat, crudely interrupting his thoughts as his gaze honed in on her: the way her fists clenched in pain against the metal sides of the cot, her gritted teeth, the tears running down over her temples, the veins bulging in her neck. 

What a sight… If only she could understand.

“Are you a fool, Six?” Another painful thrust had the woman wincing away from him with tears in her eyes. “You truly believed you would be treated differently here? After you saw the other slaves, after Siri warned you what you might become if you stayed?” 

“I d-don’t know… You talked to me, I thought…” She was starting to look confused now, some sort of female hysteria setting in and causing her to go numb, he was certain. It happened with many slaves during their breaking. 

So soon though… maybe she’s not the spitfire I thought she was.

“I trusted you.” Six said with a snarl and a realization, and Caesar half-grinned at the savagery that rose within her in just that short moment. 

Ahh, I thought too soon. Good.

“Get fucking off me! Can you just– I want to talk, we can discuss–”

“No, Six. I’m not leaving until you understand. Meus es.” He pushed forward then with finality, sinking into her more slowly as he let his body lay upon hers, his hands sliding up from her hips, grazing over her belly, up to both breasts, then to cage in her face from either side. 

“You are mine.” 

His grip tightened until he could feel her jaw tensing, feel the bones beneath the swell of her cheeks. 

“Nothing you say or do from here onwards can change that. You have been mine, since I first heard your story.” He was still panting from his exertion, but his voice was less feverish now. The certainty of his resolve was plain within it. “A life as indestructible as yours, a mind so impenetrable, to mix with my brilliance, my power… We’ll be insurmountable.” 

Six’s mouth hung open, maybe in shock, maybe in awe, and maybe those were just too similar to bother distinguishing between. Nonetheless, Caesar took advantage, and plunged his lips against hers, capturing her opened mouth with his tongue, conquering and swiftly pulling away before she had a chance to bite. 

She would yield to him, in time. Already, his muse was doing beautifully. A fine mix of resistance and submission that had his cock swelling and his thoughts running wild with the possibilities. 

He was growing close, and so, Caesar pulled away again, until he was fully out of her. The action– his absence– he hoped would make Six realize how she craved the feeling of him filling her. She would associate this gaping nothingness, the want that came with it, with her desire for him to remedy it, to make her feel whole once more. 

Six needed him. 

She had to see it that way, had to see that they would be unstoppable as a force, that the Legion was meant to thrive, with them leading the way. The future of this great faction lies within the realm of both of their responsibilities. She needed him to lead her and the faction both, needed him in order to become a mother, as he knew all women craved, and… He needed her as well. For the future of his faction, Caesar needed her to bear his heir before the pain in his mind took him for good. 

She needed his intellect, he needed her wit. He craved the way she amused him, and she surely needed an audience. 

They completed each other in every way possible, and that fact was evident, as Caesar reinserted himself and surged forward until he felt the very last resistance within her. Six cried out and her body tensed deliciously around him. 

Instead of pulling away for another thrust, Caesar merely ground his hips against her, keeping himself buried as far as he could go and laying waste to the last barricade within her. She bucked her hips in discomfort beneath him, lost for words as she whined out incomprehensible expletives and writhed against the feeling of him within her. 

Sweat beaded on Caesar’s forehead, lightning shot in bursts down his spine, and his hands gripped her hips until they were sure to leave marks there, but finally, he felt his bliss reach a peak, he felt himself tense up, felt his length swell further within her, and then he was bursting against that final, defensive rampart deep inside. Vise-like walls gripped him until he felt wrung of all his blistering, white seed as her body reacted favorably to his final claiming of her. 

It took Caesar a moment before he could see or hear anything but bright, splotchy colors surrounding him with his explosive release, but when the fog began to clear from his head, when the last rope of spend leaked out from his eager slit, he heard the way Six moaned out his name. 

Perhaps it was to curse him, to ask him one last time to get off of her, or maybe he had her. Maybe she’d come to realize all he said was true. Maybe now she knew she was his. 

It didn’t matter too much to Caesar, regardless. If Six was cursing him or declaring her dedication to him, he would know her true colors in the coming months. For now, though, for tonight, it didn’t matter what she said or felt. She would grow used to this, in time. 

Perhaps even by the end of the night. Caesar thought, and felt his blood begin to boil up again.

[scarefox]

Would like the time back when not everyone and their mother comes into fandom spaces just to police and shame people who engages in fictional playgrounds and content some people can’t handle. We don’t need this from newbies. Fandoms literally “policed” themselves since the 70s. We always had fandom elders, insiders or professionals teaching the rest when they turned too much off the rails. Heck even I do the occasional “Kids, you don’t wanna date real psychopathic killers or get kidnapped in real life even though this might be some kink of you” speech once in a while and still engage and let others engage in the fictional realms of these topics. That’s what fiction is for. To explore things you can’t or don’t want to have in real life. I am not here to look at basic, real life copies where nothing wild ever happens. 

Fandom is not supposed to be policed like that it makes people feel bad over liking some not real stories. Fandom is mainly made by people who feel socially outcasted and suppressed. It’s full of nerds, neurodivergent folks and LGBTq people as well. It’s a place to explore and relax, sometimes even to cope. You are allowed to make people aware of issues, false information or dangers. But stop policing and dictating what kind of fiction and engagement is allowed and what should be shamed.... We literally have rules like “Ship and let ship” and “Dead Dove Do Not Eat” to navigate and curate our interests and dislikes.

[rpffinder]

we're expecting this blog to hurt the sentiments of many people so we're going to start with a heavy DISCLAIMER.

we DO NOT support the over sexualisation of real people. people who write rpf know that it is first and foremost, fiction. if you're delusional enough to believe that isn't the case, or belong to the set of people that bring rpf to real celebrities, please see yourself off this page immediately.

anyone sending hate will be immediately blocked. hate will not be answered or tolerated.

MINORS DNI. do NOT request things with people that are minors. additionally political figures (including the british monarchy) will not be allowed here.

we cannot possibly know every problematic person out there, so please be smart while requesting. do not send hate if we've accidentally posted an ask involving a problematic person. ask us nicely to delete it and we will.

INCLUDE YOUR AGE IN YOUR ASKS. ASKS NOT INCLUDING AN AGE WILL BE IMMEDIATELY DELETED.

please send in full names so we can tag appropriately. if you're including a request for someone in a band / group, mention the name of the band / group as well. please use the full name of the ship as well so we can tag it correctly. for example, if you're looking to write a ship between harry styles and taylor swift, please include both their names as well as the ship name "haylor".

all topics are accepted here. dead dove, darker themes, fluffy tooth rotting fluff, etc. go wild, there's no kink shaming here.

[gaykarstaagforever]

I finally saw Battle Royale from 2000. And its importance now as a landmark of cinema that has influenced 20 years of global pop culture puts me in the uncomfortable position of admitting that I think it is overrated and kind of stupid.

I understand that it is a broad satire of the enormous pressures and competitive structure of the Japanese public education system. I get that it is intentionally melodramatic. I get that I am supposed to appreciate how goofy it can get. But the commentary is obvious after 10 minutes, and the joke of the whole thing stops being funny soon after.

This movie is unbearably long. I get it: teen soap drama and then gruesome murders. In 2000 this was edgey and intriguing (probably). But by the 17th time, you aren't saying anything remotely new with or about that. And we're only halfway done? What else is there? This basic premise alone isn't that complex of a thing to explore.

I kept waiting for more layers of depth or parody. There aren't any. And while I am not offended by fake movie gore, if school children doing murders is literally all you have and you just keep doing that for 2 hours, that is the definition of gratuitous.

No I didn't identify emotionally with any of the characters. They're not characters, they are broad tropes performing mechanically in a broad satire. There is nothing to identify with. They do murders, act like they're in Degrassi, do more murders, do more Degrassi, isn't that an ironic juxtaposition? Yes it is. Once or twice. More than that, it is just unrealistic and obnoxious.

Of course no real teens would keep up petty relationship drama in the face of real murders. That is part of the metaphor. But again, if you keep doing that for 2 hours, my attention is drawn to the goofiness of it all, it creates an unrelatable universe with weird rules, and now I'm watching aliens do arbitrary things for confusing reasons. I'm mired in your nonsense and I've lost the thread of your satire.

Maybe 2023, after all the years of me absorbing the references and knock offs of this thing, is too late for me to appreciate it. Maybe part of the appeal was how novel the concept of Saved By the Bell + a slasher movie was in 2000. I guess it would probably have been then. But it certainly isn't now.

Relatively few people saw this movie outside of Japan before like 2011. It was notorious among film critics and international cinema buffs years before that, and was hugely influential to at least a couple generations of young filmmakers, like Tarantino, i.e., when he made Kill Bill. I specifically remember Volcano High, an early South Korean "tribute" that was basically just Battle Royale but they were all wizards. And I like Kill Bill, and I liked Volcano High.

But both of those movies had more substance and deeper characters. The gore in Kill Bill wasn't just ironic novelty, it was part of a wild story. The parody and melodrama of Volcano High was sharper and funnier, if only specifically because the fights were not lethal (the stakes were lower so the persistence of the goofy teen relationship drama made more sense).

Battle Royale is a 10 minute short film stretched out to an abusive length. And at that point, unless you are getting off to Japanese teens murdering each-other, there isn't much else here.

Yes I DID notice the weird psuedo-upskirt shots of what are supposed to be children. Blah blah blah, "Japan is not the West, not woke enough for you, snowflake?, maybe you aren't wordly enough to appreciate the brilliant cultural satire of repeated longing glances at schoolgirls' thighs," etc etc.

Except here is the thing: I am an American, and so are many of you. You are NOT appreciating it on some kind of profound Japanese level. Even of you think you're supposed to. Assuming there is one. I think a lot of you are getting off to it, and so are the filmmakers, and I'll allow you 10 minutes of that, but then I'm kink-shaming. It is kind of trashy. And not in a sarcastic, artful way. It's just sexy teen cheese shots mixed with gore. For 2 goddamn hours. I'm not disgusted, I'm embarrassed and bored. I'm not masturbating to this so why do I need to be here, you weirdos?

It isn't a bad movie. It is competently made, and I appreciate how it is shot to look like a TV teen soap. And I guess the performances are fine, such as they are. Hambone is the order of the day, and they are that. I can't blame the actors for doing what the director wanted, even if I personally don't appreciate what he was going for.

But yeah, this has NOT aged well. Maybe if you are presently in high school and mad about it, you can connect with some of this. There must be a market there for this sort of thing, or they wouldn't keep making new animes of cute teens who do horrible murders. And they certainly do that. I don't know.

As far as I am concerned, it all lacks profundity. And inspired a generation or two of people thinking it is okay to sexualize teenage girls so long as they are doing stabbings. And it isn't, unless you have a point to make with that.

And you don't, because this movie came out in 2000 and already made that point. Such as it is. Over and over again, exhaustingly, across two very long hours.

Ugh.

[shelbydelrey]

I wasn't prepared for that scene at the beggining of the chapter: Chests heaving, they both shivered with the sudden intimacy of the act; as though they had just finished a round of fucking instead of slashing a man’s face to ribbons. Are you two... okay? 😅 I'm not going to kink shame, if that's how my two murderous gangsters love each other i'm okay with it 🤣

But Laur, let me tell you how happy i am that Lucy is on charge of her sexuality! She didn't allowed herself to be stuck on the victim's role and js enjoying herself and her boyfriend without fear. This truly strikes a chord in my heart because YES! Independently of her trauma, she still owns her body and should share her happiness with the one she loves 🤩

For some reason i liked this scene here: Her eyes remained totally fixed on Tommy, not acknowledging Lucy at all. Had she known Polly to be a less observant or intelligent woman, Lucy might have wondered if she forgot she was there. The constant reminder of Polly's distate over Lucy creates this edge on the story where i keep wondering if things will ever reach a blowing point 💥

What a wild ride! Eager for the next chapter 🤗

Red Right Hand

Chapter 3: Razor Blades

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Trouble comes to them in the form of a crate of stolen guns, a bloodthirsty inspector, and a blonde barmaid.

Notes: Warnings for blood, violence, use of slurs, mention of sexual content, mention of abortion, mention of pregnancy (not Lucy, though!), and mention of being barren.

Continuar lendo

[onsunnyside]

³¹.⍭ 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Major Crossover—ghostface!boyfriends!: Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Curtis Everett, Ransom Drysdale x cheater!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SOFT DARK themes and elements, cheating, revenge, obsessive/possessive behaviour, jealousy, competition, size difference: all 6’7-6’9, manhandling, manipulation, coercion. SMUT - minors DNI, NON-CON/DUB-CON: they’re all wearing the same mask & reader doesn’t know who it is, oral (m & f), balls sucking, fingering (f), dirty talk, chase kink, daddy kink, p*ssyjob, size kink, spit kink, choking, p*ssy spanking, exhibitionism (public sex), degradation, dumbification, ruined kink, overstimulation, squirting, creampie.

𝗪/𝗖 | 8.23K

𝗔/𝗡 | happy Halloween !! hope you all had a spooky day, here is my last fic for spicy October, a finale with all our fave daddies. enjoy !! all mistakes are my own.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“That was the money from my grandfather's will.” 

Curtis snorts, “as if you don’t have the cash to spare.” 

Ransom’s glare hardens, “It’s from my dead grandfather—I mean, my murdered grandfather. Am I not allowed to be upset that she stole money from my grandfather who was murdered in cold blood?”

“It isn’t stealing if you voluntarily spent it on her.” The other burnet countered, “I assume money is the only way you know how to show affection. Mommy and daddy didn’t know how to deal with you so they filled that emotional void with money, and you continue it in all your relationships. It’s a never-ending cycle.”

“At least I know my parents, orphan.”

Ari tunes them out, staring out the wide window into the night. The howling winds sway the forest surrounding the Thrombey mansion and the shadows bleed through the glass, covering him from head to toe in the same shade as his profound emptiness.

Three years. Three fucking years of his life gone to waste. 

Every time he blinks, he sees you from senior year. The beautiful, popular, high-achieving student who never looked his way, although he tried hundreds of times to get your attention. From playing his heart out on the football field when you were in the crowd, attempting—and failing—to be your partner for projects in classes you shared, and volunteering to help for events that you were organizing, one of those being your senior prom. The theme was an extravagant masquerade ball, strange for a year of rambunctious teenagers, but perfect for the elite private school. 

The venue was decorated in hues of vermillion, gold and grey, with speckles of white from the feathers and clear-beaded arrangements in the middle of each table. Sheer fabric and ribbon hung from the ceiling, draped low to mimic the magical atmosphere. Fairy lights glimmered alongside sparkling chandeliers, illuminating the ballroom in a warm yellow glow. Red roses, gold plates and vintage-styled candelabras sat atop black tablecloths and complemented the metallic chairs. 

During the few weeks of setting up the venue, his friends consistently poked fun because he was whipped for a girl he’s never spoken to. 

He broke that shameful streak the day before prom, and until today, that was the stupidest he’s ever felt. 

“Oh, I don’t have a date.” You answered after he asked what colours you and your date were going to wear. 

Ari’s face twisted in disbelief and utter confusion. The revelation scattered every organized thought, making him a total fool. “Why the fuck not?”

He’ll never forget the stunned expression on your face. 

“I mean—you’re really fucking pretty.” The words flew out like a swarm of wild bees, dancing in front of his horrified eyes, taunting him. 

You burst out laughing, throwing your head back and nearly toppling over one of the tables. “Well thanks, I’ve been asked a couple of times but none of them are my type. They’re all meatheads.” You finally caught your breath, soft giggles tumbling from your glossed lips. “Like the football team, ugh, just a bunch below-average, tit-brained idiots.”

Ari frowned deeply, “I’m on the football team.” He was positive you knew that, hell, you’ve organized fundraisers for the sports department. 

You grinned, “I know. But you’re actually cute when you’re dumb, way above average.” You patted his broad shoulder and walked away, the short uniform skirt swaying with each step. 

Ari remembers standing there like a moron before finally bolting after you. He caught up to you in the parking lot and asked you right then and there, almost dropping to his knees to beg when you took a second too long to answer. But you said yes, smiling so sweetly he could’ve died. 

“—the same day. The same fucking day! That has to be a record!” Curtis snarls, pointing a finger at Ransom, “and you were on a date too, so you can’t say shit about cheating, jackass.”

The playboy moves his hand with two fingers, nonchalantly shrugging. “I found someone I wanted to spend the night with, is that a crime?”

Curtis gritted his teeth, his shoulders rigid under his leather jacket, “I won her a ginormous bear and fingered her in the photo booth, and she was already fucking two other guys!”

“Dating. She was dating two other guys.” 

“Same shit!”

All this time, the second boyfriend has remained silent. Steve stares at his lock screen, a blurry photograph of the two of you the morning after a date at the pier. You’re half asleep but he wanted to commemorate the most perfect night of his life. 

He was convinced that he was the lead in a romantic film, and it all bloomed from his awful first impression. 

“Will you ever actually talk to me? Or will you just continue to stare at me from across the shop?” You smiled down at him, your skin glowing in the morning sun. “Here, you look like a cupcake kind of guy.”

A red velvet cupcake is placed in front of him, right next to his hand which had his pencil in a death grip. He quickly releases his hold and stares blankly at you, stunned and bewitched because he’s never seen you this close. Heavenly is the way he’d describe your features, each curve and dip of your face is burned into his brain from his endless sketches but at this moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. 

Since that day, he believed in love at first sight. Now? It’s up for debate. 

“Sit. I mean, please sit. Only if you want obviously.” He covers his red cheeks, not even bothering to shut his sketchbook. You already saw the dozens of drawings of you from various angles, all sprawled across the pages like they belonged there. “You know what? Never mind, I’ll go. I’m  sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” 

He was going to leave, pack up his things haphazardly and dash out of the coffee shop before embarrassment ate him alive, but you called him back. 

“I’ll stay, but only if you show me what else is in there.”

And he did, shyly at first but as the minutes dragged into hours, he got more confident and gave you detailed explanations of each piece. He rambled on and on about a sketch that took up two pages, it was an elderly couple watching the sunset on the beach, the waves crashing in the background as their heavily detailed silhouettes were in the foreground. He spoke as if he knew them when he was only a mere bystander to their love story. 

“I saw them almost every day that summer. On that same bench and holding hands.” He sipped his cold coffee, never breaking eye contact with you, “They’ve probably watched tons of sunsets in their lifetime, but it’s cute, y’know? That they still do… soft things like that.”

Steve was a nice guy. He was recklessly kind, tutored people in his class, and always helped his coach with pregame preparations. He donates all his old clothes and always asks owners before petting their dogs. 

If he was so good, why did bad things happen to him? Was it his fault? 

He kept pushing you to meet his family. In his defence, you’ve been dating for two years and he talks about you nonstop, his parents have been begging to meet the girl who has their son’s heart, and praised him for finding the one so early on. 

It’s a shame that the one was never his to begin with. 

The worst part of all of this wasn’t the cheating—well, it was, but the other worse part was your blatant dismissal for taking the next step in your relationship. You’ve met their families, you were very close with Ari’s and met Curtis’ and Ransom’s who you’ve only been dating for less than a year. 

What was so different about his? 

“Cheap fucking slut.” Ransom mutters. “She’s so greedy that she needs four cocks.” 

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Steve frowns, “She’s still my girlfriend.” 

Curtis bites his tongue and swallows whatever snide remark was on the verge of spilling out. As much as it hurt, he knew where they were both coming from. He hated your guts, yet the masochist part of himself admired your bulletproof nerve and capability, and the other much softer part was still madly in love with you. 

He prided himself in being observant, reading people like open books and anticipating their words and actions so that he was always prepared—that’s why he knows how to push Ransom’s buttons. It didn’t take a genius to notice how stuck up and spoiled the brat was. He couldn’t believe how you put up with him. 

How you got away with this for so long was a wonder. Whether it was by sheer luck or cautious scheming, you played them all like puppets, pulling their strings however you pleased for the grand production. The success came with applause and satisfaction, it boosted your ego and made them into fools. 

Don’t even get him started on your fucking friends who probably worshipped you for your stellar performance, praising you for dancing on their hearts with false innocence. Curtis has met them and only now he can recall the mischievous twinkle in their eyes, he would bet that they downgraded him to a pathetic nickname like boyfriend number three. 

He would’ve noticed something sooner if you didn’t have him pussy drunk every time he saw you. He’ll admit it—he’s whipped. 

You may be a good-for-nothing cheater, but you were his fucking pornstar. 

He supposes that’s the thing about pornstars, they surely got around. 

Curtis wouldn’t openly admit it to the rest of the guys—his girlfriend’s other boyfriends—but if you called him right now and asked him to come over, he’d be on his motorcycle in the blink of an eye. You were a twisted, disgustingly hot mastermind who could spit in his face and choke him, and yet, he’d still dick you down. He was into that freaky shit anyway. 

Of course, as much as he pretended, he wasn’t all tough. Under that steel demeanour, he’s aching, battered with betrayal and fears of inadequacy. 

Grey clouds loomed over that island of self-doubt, a place all four of them have since sailed to and made home, sharing their confusion, anger and grief. 

All of this mess started from simple curiosity. Ari recognized a little lacy thing in one of his fraternity brothers’ rooms, and lo and behold, it was your panties, the same ones he bought you a few months prior. 

“Oh, oops. My girl left those in my pocket.” Curtis chuckles and waltzes in, dropping his skateboard by the closet. He’s wearing that signature black beanie and carrying that smell of cigarettes and mint gum. “She’s so cheeky, huh?”

Ari doesn’t acknowledge him at first. His fingers feel around the fabric before hooking in a hole by the band, and then his heart stops. 

The other brunet watches strangely, “Uh, can I have those back?”

Perhaps any other person in a fit of confused rage would’ve wrapped their hands around Curtis’ throat, but Ari didn’t. He’s caught off guard when Ransom walks by and pops his head in, his blue eyes locking on the purple lace with blue bows. 

“Where did you get those?”

Those five words erupted an argument that shook the walls. Curses were spat and accusations were pointed every which way until the world decided that three out of four wasn’t enough.  

Steve was on his way home when he heard the shouts from a few houses down. 

He burst into the bedroom with wide eyes and was welcomed by his friends arguing and tearing crumbled lace from each other’s hands. Then, the universe works its magic again and the sheer fabric lands on the floor a few feet away from him. 

His gaze drops and he cocks his head to the side, but that puzzlement swiftly fuses into disbelief that shakes him to the core. The air falls to an ear-splitting silence as realization dawns, freezing them all where they stand. 

The first to speak is Ransom, he lets out a boisterous laugh. “What a little cock hungry bitch. Well played, I’ll say, well played.” 

After everyone calmed down and Steve stopped crying and dry heaving, they made the journey to Ransom’s mansion for the sake of privacy, who knows what their other fraternity brothers would think? They’d pity them, but no one would understand their circumstances. No, that gracious gift was split between the four of them. 

“So, who gets to have her?” All eyes fall on Steve, the 6’8 figure hunched in a small chair and clutching a pillow to his chest. 

Me—is spoken in all their heads. Fury, greed and vengeance don’t mix well with love. 

“I had her before you.” Curtis says to Ransom and reclines on the leather couch, stretching lazily, “Did I forget to mention she sucked my dick that night? Oh… and you kissed her too, huh?” He smirks, “I don’t know about you but I’d rather not know my parents than know what a stranger’s dick tastes like.”

Ransom clenches his jaw, “You poor cunt—”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the girl you ditched that day is still into you. Call her up and see how that goes, trust fund baby.” 

“If we’re going with whoever had her first…” Steve trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat. He cried when he found out about your unfaithfulness, and he cried on the way to the mansion and already excused himself a few times to cry in the bathroom, yet he was seconds away from crying again. “Then i-it’s you.” 

Six blue eyes pool with hesitance, then tentatively land on the tallest frat boy. 

Ari’s wounds run the deepest, piercing through his skin that you’ve marked with your lips and hands. You’ve branded him, traced your name on his chest as you two talked mindlessly about the future, where you see yourself after graduating from that pretentious university halfway across the world. 

It wasn’t the distance. If it was, why did you date three other guys from the same city as him?

“Has she contacted any of you? While you two were arguing, she tried calling me.” He stares down at the missed call. The candid contact photo glares back, it was from your last birthday just before you blew out your candles. A surprise party he planned for you. 

Everyone checks their phones. 

“She just cancelled our date.” Ransom grits his teeth, glaring at the screen with your adorable yet revolting apology. 

I promise I’ll make it up to you, daddy! I have a huge project coming up but I’ll miss you! Please don’t forget about me :(

“Ours too. Apparently, she has a project.” Curtis itches to call you right now and give you a piece of his mind but he’d rather see your face when your castle of lies crumbles to the ground. 

You were always so pretty when you were helpless and ruined. 

Steve’s phone is the last to chime. He gulps nervously and flips it over with a furrow between his brows. “She wants me to visit her next week.” 

“Fucking bitch.” Ransom growls, throwing his phone across the room, it dents the wall with a loud thump. Everyone would be taken aback if he hadn’t broken four glasses already. 

“I—uh, what do I say? Do I make up an excuse that I can’t go?”

Ari uncrosses his arms, blinking slowly. He was calm and it was terrifying considering how furious he should be. He knew you first, he fell for you first, he had you first, yet he was as peaceful as a boat on a gentle stream. “You don’t want to see her?”

Steve slumps over in a big hunk of muscle trapped in a too-small t-shirt. For someone usually happy and energetic, it was comical to see the new star player of the football team so defeated. Millions of bodychecks and tackles couldn’t amount to the gut-wrenching aches and emptiness, and Ari was the only one who understood that too. 

He still wasn’t over the fact that he’s been playing on the same team as the guy who was fucking his girlfriend—their girlfriend?

“Of course I do. I love her.” 

Steve was soft, to say the least, everyone knew that when they saw him walk into the fraternity house with a wide smile and a tray of freshly baked cookies, “I wanted to make a good impression and my ma says food is the best way to do it,” he said in a Brooklyn accent, “can’t have my frat brothers hating me, that’d be a shitshow.” 

Hate wouldn’t be the word they’d use, but they weren’t completely comfortable with each other like before. 

What are the chances that all your boyfriends enroll in the same college and join the same fraternity at the same time, even when all of them were attending different schools the previous year?

Fate was probably fed up with your deceitfulness. 

“You’ll invite her here and we’ll all have her.” Ari decides, his dark eyebrows knitted tightly, “we’ll share. That means, the two of you get along or get out—”

“—this is my house.”

“I didn’t fucking ask.” He snaps, “If this is going to work, we’ll have to get along, or at least pretend to. And at the end of the night, no one loses, no one wins, but she gets what she deserves.” 

For the hundredth time, Steve looks down at your hand in his. Your freshly manicured hand contrasts with his black gloves, and the glitter nail polish matches the dainty diamond on your ring finger, the one he bought you for your one year anniversary. You got him a chain necklace that he’s never taken off and with his bubbling nerves, it feels like the silver is burning through his skin.

“You okay, baby?”

As always and regardless of the conditions, he swoons at your lovely voice. Oh, he was neck-deep in his desire, trapped and made into a damn clown, yet his heart still sang for you. 

“Yeah, doll. Are you?”

You grin and kiss his cheek with your glossed lips. “I’m perfect, daddy.” You’re happy that Steve begged you to come home instead of flying him to you. 

This was your first time visiting his new college and elite university parties were nothing like the ones in the city. They lacked closeness and freedom since everyone was concerned about wrong angles or nasty rumours. Here, people just wanted to dress up, have fun, and celebrate Halloween on rented-out property in an old farmhouse. 

“I’ll get you another drink.” Steve pats your hip and you scoot off his lap, occupying the free spot on the couch. He asks around for other refills and turns to you, tilting your chin up with his finger, “You want something to eat too?”

“No thanks, do you want me to come?”

Steve snorts, brushing you off with a claim of chivalry. You watch him walk away and ignore that little voice of guilt, the hushed dejected calls of three other names. They didn’t matter right now, you were with Steve and thinking about them any longer put all of your relationships at risk. 

You love them all, but in different ways. There were different things to love about each of them, distinct qualities to admire, and little habits to remember. You were diligent with everything, that’s why you’ve gotten away with it for so long. 

You grew up quite spoiled, always getting whatever you want from your parents who never used the word no. It was all on a shiny silver platter, from prized jewelry to new wardrobes, fancy cars and luxurious vacations. That part of you never grew up, you still wanted it all and got it—just like how you wanted four men and got them. They weren’t disposable to you, no, they were the loves of your life. You valued them, but obviously not enough to respect their trust and the sanctity of your relationship. 

When Steve returns, you don’t waste any time. Your body presses against his and your lips trail down his neck, gently pushing the hood off his blond head, “I’ve missed you, daddy. Haven’t you missed me too?”

Steve has since gotten over his heartbreak and nerves. It took a bit of liquid courage and some direction from Ari, but he was ready. No longer a sad, pouting puppy but a vengeful beast, smelling out your lies like a fresh kill. It’s that deep-seated hunger which spurs him on, prompting him to pull you to the dance floor for a few songs. He yearns to feel your body against his, your irresistible warmth, and that magnetic force that pulled him to you two years ago. 

You turn around in his hold, slowly grinding against his thigh. “I did what you asked…” You trail off, bringing his hand under your tutu. It isn’t out of character for you to be so forward, but it catches you off guard when he gropes your flesh. His fingers trace over the plug through your nylon tights and lace leotard. “Did I do good, daddy?”

“So good, baby.” His voice drops low, rumbling in his chest, his hard bulge rubs against your hip. “You always do so good for me.” 

You were his best girl, his pretty doll who couldn’t do any wrong. He’d do anything you asked, bend over backwards to fulfill your any wish but that would change tonight. It was time for you to be stretched thin for his demands and satisfy his needs. 

“I want to feel your mouth on me.” 

Under any other circumstances, Steve would have felt embarrassed for saying that aloud, but all those worries fly out the window when your eyes twinkle and you nod obediently, truly the whore that Curtis said you were—well, he actually called you a fuckhole.

Steve wrongfully thought your body was his for the past two years, but at this moment, he chose to believe you were wholly his. 

“You okay, sweet girl?”

You nod eagerly with your mouth locked around one of his balls, your tongue traces the seam before suckling. You’re so messy and struggle to take his full sack, slobbering filthily as saliva dribbles onto your pristine costume. 

His gaze locks on your face, your cheeks are wet and hot with tears, and his spit hangs out the corner of your swollen lips. Your tongue swipes out for it before licking up his leaky cock, following the protruding veins to the fat tip. 

“You like when I stroke your cock, daddy?” 

“Yeah, baby. Go deeper, you’ve done it before.” His neck tenses when you gag on his cock, fisting what couldn’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck, that’s it.” 

The music vibrates throughout the house, the loud conversations flowing in from under the bathroom door, but you didn’t care, not even with your sore knees pressing into the cold tiles, or your feather headpiece jostling with every bob. 

His heavy weight on your tongue and his taste filling your mouth sends tingles through your body, but you force your hand away from your throbbing cunt. This was for Steve, your sweet, loving and fucking hot boyfriend Steve.  

“So pretty down there, doing so good for me.” Steve pants heavily, guiding you to kiss up and down his pulsating length. The mushroom head is enveloped between your lips and you lick his slit. You’re usually a tease, but Steve has different things in mind. 

He secures a hand behind your head and pushes down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing, but it’s futile with his massive length violating your airways, hammering deep and rough. You choke around his girth, saliva spills down your chin, and tears pool in your eyes but you’re determined to bring him to that precipice. You take whatever he gives—from more spit on your face to brutal thrusts. 

He forces you down further and rocks his hips, fucking your mouth like he hated you. “Look up at me, wanna see my pretty girl sucking my cock.” 

You preen under his words, blinking up at him as tears stream down your face. Wet, garbled noises fill the small bathroom as you cling to his hips over his tattered robe, piercing the thin fabric with your nails. 

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl. Take daddy’s cock,” like the dumb whore you are. A stupid slut who isn’t content with only one man but needs several to suck dry—you’ve stolen it all, their time, money, and love. You didn’t deserve his cum right now, but Steve was too fucking soft. 

He growls your name, pumping your mouth full of his hot seed. There’s so much that some seeps through the corners of your lips, following in the lines of your spit and tears, deliciously ruining your makeup. He forces you to stay there, filled to the brim and choking on his cum. After what felt like hours, he lets you pull off. You immediately swallow his seed and lick the sensitive tip for any rogue droplets, peppering messy kisses up the flushed flesh. 

He helps you stand and rubs your cheek, smearing the spit, cum and tears into your skin. You moan and dip down, suckling his fingers and slowly lifting your dress. In the mirror, he sees your ass through the paper-thin nylon and sheer white leotard, and that plug snugly in your puckered hole. 

The reflection only emphasizes the differences, you clad in a blinding, pure white against his black robe, glittering and feathery while he was dark and looming. The similarities are only visible to him, two people playing pretend. He thinks you should win an award for your performance. 

You’re smaller than him, and so much weaker. He could pick you up and fuck you senseless against the wall, make your whines pour out for everyone to hear. 

“Wanna see it, daddy? I did it for you.”

He does, but his phone vibrates on the counter. 

Ransom: Time’s up. We don’t have all night.

It physically hurts to push you away. “In a bit, sweet girl. Let’s go enjoy the party, okay?”

The night goes on, party songs blare through the old farmhouse, rattling the old walls and windows. It’s safe to say you were momentarily satisfied after blowing Steve, the night was still young and you had all weekend to jump his bones before you left the city. 

You found a group of people to chat with, easily joining their conversations. They were interested in your private school life, so you entertained them with stories of your strict years in ironed uniforms from your early childhood to university career but unlike them, you had zero knowledge about Greek life. 

Apparently, there were a few fraternities on campus, “your boyfriend is in one, didn’t he tell you?”

“Uh, no. He didn’t.” 

You almost forgot which boyfriend you were here with until one of them asked where Steve went, and Halloween night must bring magic because just as they asked, your date popped up from the backdoor. He headed straight for you and tugged you away by your arm, not bothering to greet your new friends. 

You giggle, already tipsy from your first few drinks. “Where’d you run off to?”

He doesn’t respond and drags you outside, weaving through the bodies crowding the back porch illuminated by fairy lights. The crisp air fills your lungs, tainted with smoke, but it’s refreshing after being in a stuffy house all night. 

You apologize to the few people you bump into, blindly stumbling after your boyfriend. He’s practically body-checking people out of the way and hauling you like dead weight. He’s so rough that your bag slips from your wrist. “Steve, my purse!” 

Ransom huffs and spins around to grab your bag before continuing his trek to the woods, slowing down for your sake. This time, you follow easily, slightly inebriated and giddy, not questioning a thing—even though Steve was acting very different tonight, you were excited about anything else he had in store. 

The darkness grows the deeper you walk, the light from the farmland property swallowed by the vast abyss. You make out the shapes of the trees and your boyfriend in the muted moonlight, although your dress is still bright, especially the rhinestones glimmering across your body. 

“I wish we matched costumes… I need my prince.” You flirt, “I am a princess after all.” 

The irony almost makes him laugh. You dressed as an untouched white swan, a cursed princess. There was no purity within you, the bleached tulle and feathers on your body were nothing but a mockery for delicacy and heartache. 

“We could’ve been the cutest couple here! But you just wanted to hide under that robe. Are you scared I’m gonna find some marks that aren’t from me?”

Your teasing is cut short when he pins you against a thick tree, your back slams into the jagged bark and the back of your head throbs dully. Stars cloud your vision and you almost don’t notice when he drops to his knees between your legs. “What the hell—Steve!” With his head under your tutu, he makes quick work of tearing off his mask. The ghostly disguise falls to the forest floor face up, the horrid expression glaring at you. 

You try to pull up your dress but he bats your hands away, quickly distracting you with a flat tongue up your clothed cunt. You gasp and your thighs tremble when his wet muscle flicks against your clit, his saliva and your slick soaking through the white lace. 

“W-Wait, right now? I, fuck.” Your back arches when he bites your thigh. 

The silent night is interrupted by an awful tear. Your nylon tights meet the same fate as your lace leotard, torn to bits by his wild hands. 

“Daddy, uhm, I don’t—” Your voice breaks into a moan when his thick fingers slide to the hilt and he harshly sucks your clit. He doesn’t work you up to it, no, he starts like a starved man. He fucks you with two fingers, nudging the plug with his other hand while dining on your button. He latches onto the nub, massaging the nerves with his tongue as your pussy clenches around his digits, sucking him in. 

He’s so rough and sloppy, making out with your cunt and hungrily slurping up your juices, disgracing the surrounding nature with the lewd noises and his guttural groans. Acting as if he hasn’t touched you in a lifetime.  

Ransom briefly considers fucking up the whole plan just to see you properly. He misses your pretty face, your messy cunt and weepy hole, he feels you dripping but he would do anything to see your creaminess coating his fingers, just like his pinky ring. 

The tree bark digs into your back as he hoists you higher. His spit splatters against you before his teeth drag along your clit and he nibbles mockingly. He soothes any aches with his tongue, trailing down your slit to lick into your hole. You whimper when hard slaps land on your nub, and he isn’t as kind this time around and rubs it roughly, bullying your sensitive button with his skilled fingers. 

“Uh! D-Don’t stop, daddy. Please don’t stop.” You pant, already on edge from your previous escapade in the bathroom. You wondered why he didn’t touch you then, and now you’re thankful you waited. Your body has a mind of its own and rocks against his clean-shaven face, fucking yourself on his tongue. He hums against you, either with some degrading comment or praise, you didn’t care. 

You fist his hair under your tutu, legs quivering as he replaces his wet muscle with his digits, pumping knuckle deep. His fingers hit that rough patch with every thrust, forcing your juices out and into his awaiting mouth, racing you toward that edge of euphoria. 

His faint curses go muffled as you convulse, your thighs lock around his head, trapping him against your pussy. You cry out his name, so close to your high that you can taste it—sweet, addictive and full of relief, but you’re yanked from that delight when he pulls back. 

The cold rushes against your wet folds, making you whine from the abrupt loss of his wet warmth. Your concerns die in your throat when he puts on his mask, wiping his fingers on his robe. Your weak legs drop to the ground as he leans back and tilts his head, studying you behind the plastic face. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, the tightness unravelling within your stomach. “Why—Why’d you stop?”

All he does is laugh and stand up, dusting off his knees casually. You call out his name and in confusion, watch him turn around and walk back to the house, leaving you in the forest alone, soaked, and fucking high and dry. 

At the sight of that familiar mask, you duck and turn the other way. Your drink is almost done so you toss it in the trash and sway through bumping bodies, ignoring the heavy footsteps that are somehow louder than the bass. 

Were you avoiding him? Yes, but with his tall stature, he could easily spot you above the crowd and that limited your hiding spots. 

He deserved it for leaving you out there like a sacrificial lamb. What would’ve happened if you had been shitfaced drunk? You’d probably pass out on the ground and freeze to death, and he’d be responsible for it, the dumb fucking jerk! If he abandoned you out there now, there was no telling if you’d find your way back to the house because tonight, you found out that more drinks go well with holding grudges. 

You scream when your whole world is flipped upside down, and instantly recognize that stupid tattered robe, “Everyone can see my ass, jerk!”

Curtis snorts, you’ve probably fucked everyone in this room already and showing them your ass should be the least of your worries. 

You’re set on your feet in a dark corner of the packed living room, the strobe lights flash across the heads of partygoers, and the music booms loudly, drilling some pop song into your head. He pulls you flush against his chest, crushing your tutu between your bodies.  

“Get off me, asshole.” You try to wiggle free, but he’s too strong and big, he doesn’t even flinch when you stomp on his foot. “Ugh, I said get off!” You squirm when his hand slips between your thighs, meeting your bare cunt. “Steve!”

A sharp spank lands on your pussy, making your legs go numb but he holds you up with one arm, rubbing torturously slow circles on your swollen nub. With the booming music and the alcohol flowing through your system, you don’t register the different voice in your ear. 

“That isn’t what you call me.” 

You shiver, the warmth radiates off his body, luring you with his presence. You’re still wet and so sticky that your slick has smeared to your inner thighs, right where his fingers are tracing now. His touch ignites that fire again, all too effortlessly making you into a needy mess. 

In the flickers of red, he can see every thought leave your head. Dumb little girl. You thought you could hide from him? 

Curtis’ reaches in the slit of his robe to unbuckle his belt, and you’re too preoccupied with riding his fingers. His cock slides between your soaked, ruined folds, replacing his hand as he prods at your soppy hole. You go slack as he rocks slowly but never strays too far, letting you feel every inch.

“D-Daddy, oh!” You snap your jaw shut, “what are you—”

“Hush, you don’t want people to catch us, right?” He asks, thrusting forward until he nudges your puffy button, rubbing the sensitive nerves with the tip. He groans lowly, Ransom really bullied you down there.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your thoughts jumbling together from the overstimulation. “We—We shouldn’t, daddy…” Your voice fades when his hand wraps around your throat, his rough fingers digging into your skin and he forces you to face the crowd.

“None of them know who you really are, huh? What you really are?”

If anyone looked over, they’d instantly know what was going on. It was obvious from your blissed-out expression and his rocking hips, your weak hands grasping at his forearm as he squeezed harder. 

The oxygen goes thin as your eyes roll back, your bones turn to jelly and soon he’s your only support. His beefy arm pins you to his chest, keeping you from falling over as he thrusts into your weepy folds, the bulbous tip catching on your hole but never penetrating. 

If he could, he’d spit in your mouth, make you gag on his saliva until it dribbled down your chin. He wants the whole world to know what a slut you are, and how needy you get for cock that you’ll let him use you just feet away from other people. 

Curtis knows you love the risk. He knew that the moment he met you—because you kissed him in the photo booth and slipped his hand up your skirt, begging in your soft voice for him to touch you. 

Your lips part with a silent moan. He can’t resist slipping two fingers into your mouth, reminiscing when you sucked his dick that very same day and swallowed everything he gave you. Fucking cockslut. There were times when you dropped to your knees under his desk and rubbed over his clothed cock until he let you suck him off. You loved when he used you and when he was mean, acting like a damn bully instead of your loving boyfriend. You wanted to be degraded, ruined and downgraded to a cocksleeve, and that’s why you were his fucking pornstar. 

He still has that photo strip of you smiling, all fucked out and dumb with spit, tears and cum on your face. Your very first picture together and you didn’t even know his last name at the time. 

“Pl-Please let me come this time, daddy.” You plead, weakly meeting his thrusts. 

This time?

Curtis holds back a huff, of course, Ransom would tease the hell out of you. No wonder you’re so pathetic right now, not even thinking straight as he takes you apart on his girth. The partygoers couldn’t see his face, but they could see yours, and how stupid you looked getting fucked in the corner of the room. 

“You gonna come for me and cover daddy’s cock in your cream?” He asks, “Come in front of all these people, show ‘em what a fucking whore you are.”

If you weren’t so dazed, you would’ve realized that Steve has never called you a whore, he barely used slut either. Preferring to call you his sweet baby, his pretty doll, his girl, as he took you apart with suffocating love, those long fingers and his monstrous cock. 

Your high topples over and you cling to his arm, victim to the wave of bittersweet relief. Your orgasm coats his length, claiming him as it streams down your legs, seeping into your tights. You’re so lost in the pleasure and unable to contain your loud pitiful mewl, drawing a few drunken gazes. 

Curtis crowds you, blocking their eyes and presses you into the wall. He grips his cock, slapping the head against your pulsating clit before drawing back, the tip barely pops in before his seed spurts out, filling you up. Some escapes and the thick white cum follows in the trails of your squirt, and the feeling of being owned almost gets you worked up again. 

You can’t hear much with the blood rushing through your head, but you make out a few words: “bathroom” and “clean yourself up.” 

“W-Wait, we’re goin’ too far…” You slur, clutching the fresh seventh or eighth drink that your boyfriend shoved into your hand. Your previous one spilt all over the floor when he hauled you out of the bathroom. You barely finished cleaning yourself up before he barged in. “It’s your fault I was a mess, daddy… You can’t be mad at me.” 

He doesn’t speak or falter, his purposeful strides so long that you flounder after him. 

“Where are we,” you hiccup, “going?” When faced with no response, you dig your feet into the ground, but your ballet flats are useless in the dry, crumbling dirt. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” 

He stops suddenly and you squeak, bumping into his broad back. Punch—or whatever it was—spills out of the cup splashing onto your white dress, staining the tulle and feathers a bright scarlet. 

“Ugh, Steve! Look what you did!”

He turns around, cocking his head like you were a child throwing a tantrum. 

Your feeble attempts at cleaning the mess only make it worse and spread the vibrant red. “I really liked this costume, and now look… It’s like I was stabbed.” You pout, the alcohol making you a little emotional. “Y-You ruined it! And I-I felt so pretty today—” 

He wraps you in his arms, cooing softly while rubbing your back. You drunkenly cling to his warm body, feeling his muscles under the hooded robe. 

“Let’s stand here for a bit… you gave me a lot of drinks.” You nuzzle into his chest, brushing off the difference of his cologne. Cold night air brushes along your nylon-clad legs, fluttering the delicate mesh of the tutu. You’ve lost some rhinestones as the night went on, but nothing a little hot glue couldn’t fix. “You’ve never done public stuff like that, Stevie. You’re usually so private about us.” 

He shrugs, the booming music is distant but the heavy bass still pounds in your ears. 

“You don’t wanna admit it? C’mon, I won’t tell.” You flutter your lashes, a trick that always works. “I’m into it too, and how you caught me off guard only makes it better.” 

Through blurry vision, you spot a guest house a few ways away. The lights are off, the driveway is empty, and an idea pops into your head. “We could have some real fun, daddy. Don’t you wanna have fun with me?”

This time he hums and drags his hands down your back, gripping your waist. He yanks you close, pushing an oof from your throat. 

“You’re never so rough either.” His bulge presses against your front and you nearly drop to your knees right then and there. “Do you wanna keep the mask on?”

He nods, the lifeless black eyes and dramatically opened mouth absorbing any light, contrasting with the ghostly white face. He’s looming like a shadow the size of a mountain, intimidating you by merely looking at you with a dead gaze as daunting as the creepy fictional character. 

You thought Steve didn’t like horror movies. 

You lean up to kiss him, but he spins you around so quickly that you almost fall over. Tall corn stalks and various pumpkins sit on hay bales under an archway forebodingly lit by lanterns. 

You giggle, “Ooh! You wanna race to see who finds the exit first? I’ll have you know, I’m quite the pro. I go whenever they have one at the pumpkin patch!”

Ari fucking knows that because it’s one of your traditions. You two go every year and get hot chocolate and fresh pie, then head to the corn maze for your annual competition. As always, you get a head start and he pretends to get lost so you have to find a way out together, and he’ll try—and fail—to fool around with you. Your excuse? “There are families here!”

As if you hadn’t begged him to fuck you in the closet when you were visiting his family for spring break. He had to gag you with your panties, you were so needy and pleading for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you stupid just doors away from his parents. 

You wanted to be caught that day, and right now he wished he let you walk out with his cum on your face. Perhaps then, you’d be filled with humiliation just like the four of them. 

He wanted you to think you got away with it, that you’re still the queen and they’re stupid pawns to your game. Just so he can watch the despair wash over your face, the broken pride will fall from your lips in half-assed apologies. 

You’ll cry and beg for forgiveness, for mercy, but they won’t give it to you. No, they want you to suffer, wallow in distraught—just as Odette did when Siegfried swore to love another. 

He watches you run off, your loud inebriated laughter flowing into the open air, joyous and free, the complete opposite of what you’ll be when the clock strikes midnight. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees three other hooded figures emerge from the forest. One by one, their stark white masks are bathed in the moonlight, screaming or crying or both. He sets your purse by the entrance after taking your cell phone, and only then does he enter the maze. 

It isn’t long until he catches up to you, following the fallen feathers from your costume like breadcrumbs. 

You’re leaning against the haystack wall, flashing him a mischievous smile. Your hands drag down your body, teasingly pulling down the front of your dress to expose your cleavage. 

He steps towards you, craving the heat of your skin. He wants to know just how much the other guys ruined you, but you duck under his arm and race deeper into the maze, giggling madly. 

“Gotta be faster than that, daddy!”

The further you go, the darker it gets. Everything looks the same, all varying in shades of green but you try to not get distracted, sugary sweet victory is hot on your mind. You slow down and listen for heavy feet on the grass, but all you hear are crickets and the gentle wind. 

You scream when thick arms wrap around your waist, heaving you high into the air and pinning you against a haystack. Built arms hook under your thighs as his hips slip snugly between your thighs, brushing your overworked core. 

You laugh, “this is like the movie! What does she say?” You think for a moment, “No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” You burst into laughter, playfully kicking your feet, “now the stain makes… uh… sense! It makes sense!” 

The shadows cloud over his masked face, making him look sadder or more scared. Horrified would fit the best, but your drunken head couldn’t find the word. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” 

All blood drains from your face and fills your heart, sinking it straight to hell and taking your carefree smile with it. 

“What? You don’t miss me?” His deep voice slices through the silence, “Oh, or do you miss someone else more?” From each turn enter three more figures, matching black robes clad over their shoulders with the hoods pulled down, accentuating their stark white disguises. 

He flips up his mask, making you nauseous in a single motion. “Happy Halloween, bunny.” His long hair frames his pale face and his eyes gleam with cruel amusement as a twisted grin plays on his pink lips. 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“Poor girl, did you lose your voice?” Number three. 

“That’s a shame, I love hearing you scream.” Number four.

The rest of the men remove their masks and your eyes drift over each of them. The sick glee drips off their faces and entwine with ferocious hunger. They surrounded you like predators to prey, the reapers to bring you to your inescapable fate—and they were ecstatic about it. 

Number two doesn’t look as happy as Curtis and Ransom, in fact, his expression was unreadable. He was quiet and cold, not only with his schooled features, but he didn’t speak like the rest of them. 

When Steve got quiet, he was terrifying because you didn’t know what to expect. You could only imagine the things going through his head, your sweet, loving, baker boyfriend had a dark side, one that you’ve only seen a handful of times if some guy hit on you. 

He always managed to leave the scene before things got too intense, but you feared this wasn’t one of those times. 

“N-No…”

“No? Did you miss me the most then?” Ari asks mockingly, blue eyes drawn low, “you loved me first, so you must love me the most too.”

You can’t feel the tears streaming down your numb cheeks but you know they’re there, and that’s only confirmed when Ari wipes one with his thumb, and sucks it into his mouth. Your salty misery is his favourite taste but it isn’t enough, all four of them want your ultimate destruction. 

“Cry all you want, bunny. Karma doesn’t give a shit if you’re sad or scared.” Oh but they wanted you to be petrified, “You reap what you sow—and for you, sweetheart, it’s time to bite the bullet.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: did someone say a hate fucking gangbang? Bc that’s what’s going to happen. we're starting no nut November with nuts, but oops !! p.s. the date for the next part is on the fic masterlist.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check out the rest of my kinktober masterlist for my other spooky slutty fics !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲