#wip: ex from hell

[alvfr]

The Ex from Hell - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

I'm jumping between projects like crazy right now, but as long as I'm writing at all, I can't complain. I don't expect much feedback, but would still love some if you take the time to read it :)

WIP: The Ex from Hell Excerpt rating: T Word count: 1.5k

The Manor looked the same as it had done the last three hundred years since the family brought it over the Atlantic. Granny had told the story often and showed me the old diagrams from when they disassembled it. It had been a tremendous operation. They took it down piece by piece and meticulously labeled and sorted every single board and nail to ensure they could rebuild it exactly as it was. And that was how it remained today. Only painted once, as far as I knew, after one of the city fires licked up the sides and blackened the white walls. 

The taxi, easily identifiable as one of the town cars, pulled up to the elaborate gates, and I got out of the car just as the nondescript driver tried to open the door for me. The driver said nothing, but I caught the vibe of annoyance, which only intensified when I slammed the door shut behind me. As tempting as it was to accidentally bump my hip into the pristine paint job or, even worse, offer the driver a tip, I managed to refrain. Mostly because I had other things to worry about. 

The gates to the Manor stood wide open, as inviting as a Venus Fly Trap, and a steady stream of black-clad people trickled in on the white paved walkway. Too many people for it to be normal, and my neck prickled as I trailed along to the main entrance. It was not until I reached the double set of doors and caught a glimpse of the inside that I realized what was going on.

This was a damned wake.

The front drawing room held no less than three caskets, each one drowning under a mountain of flowers and cards. Surrounded by a variety of people, all dressed to the nines in deep, rich black, drinking from long-stemmed glasses and gossiping as if their lives depended on it. Which it often did.

Distracted by the caskets, I entered the Manor and failed to appreciate that it had been almost ten years since I last stepped foot in these halls. A step was all I managed before a hard claw of a hand gripped my arm and yanked me to the side, sending me into a darkened hallway that used to be part of the servant’s entrance.

“What,” Kathy hissed less than an inch from my face, “in the name of all goddesses are you wearing?”

“Clothes.” I tore my arm loose and straightened my sweatshirt from where it had ridden up. “I didn’t realize there was a dress code, but I might have if you’d have told me there was a damned wake going on!”

“Like you would have come if you knew.” Kathy sneered and looked over my shoulder to ensure our conversation had not caught anyone’s attention. “And there is always a dress code, as you are well aware. You must change at once before any of the Aunties see you. Surely, you must have something appropriate.” Her flickering eyes returned to me and traveled the entire length of my body twice as if they could not come to terms with reality on the first go. “Where are your belongings?”

“Stashed them at a fr—” I bit my teeth together and tried again. “Stashed them with someone I know. I’m not staying, Kath. You said you needed my help, fine, I’m willing to listen. Doesn’t mean I’m moving back in.”

“Then where will you stay, hm? Battered women’s shelter, maybe?”

While she probably hoped I would flinch at her brazen question, a heavy rush of blood flew to my face. Heating up my cheeks in the prolonged shame that still accompanied the memory of that night when everything had gone wrong. When I had betrayed my then-husband so violently. “No.”

Kathy gave the impression of waiting for me to elaborate but did a little impatient eye-roll when I did not. “Fine. You will have to borrow something of mine. You’re fortunate that oversized garments are still in vogue.”

The hair on the back of my neck raised with every step I trailed after Kathy down the familiar hallways. A primal part of me that screamed of danger, like the walls would close in behind me and trap me in there forever. My fingers twitched, aching for the comforting motion of lighting a cigarette, and I stuffed my hand into my jean pocket for the little stupid key tag and clutched it so hard the plastic dug into the soft parts of my palm. It always started with craving just a cigarette.

For some reason, I had expected Kathy to lead me to the room we had shared as teenagers, but she veered into another corridor and opened the door to one of the suites. Like an extension of Kathy herself, the room was decorated in muted extravagance and smelled faintly of incense. She wasted no time and stalked into the walk-in closet that might as well have been a portal into a midnight realm — every single object in there, from belt to shoe to garment, was black. Which was no surprise, but I had never appreciated how stupid it looked before.

“Here.”

She thrust some hangers at me and waved me behind a privacy screen to get changed. Even with the oversized fit, I barely got the black pants over my hips, and my squishy belly spilled slightly over the stretchy waistband. Not for the first time in these last months, I grabbed the excess flesh on my stomach and jiggled it, fascinated by how it moved separately while also being a part of me. The same went for my breasts, fuller than ever before and potentially spilling over my fingers when I cupped them like I had been longing for ever since hitting puberty. I had been many things in my life, but soft had never been one of them. The matching sweater hung looser on my frame and covered up both my belly and hips, which, for some reason, made the insides of my chest itch a bit.

The second I stepped out from the screen, Kathy handed me a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses, claiming we did not have time to do anything about my hair or face other than hide them. Which was fine by me, to be honest — the mortifying ordeal of being perceived and all. 

“This will have to do,” Kathy said after viewing the full outcome of her work. Her small mouth pursed in contempt. “I suppose. Come now.”

She took a different route on the way back to the front hall, leading me down the grand hallway with the portraits of the ones who came before us glaring down from every angle. Subtlety was not Kathy’s forte, but I still pulled the brim of my hat down to avoid looking at the long line of disappointed women from centuries past. 

“Who are they?” I asked, referring to the caskets when we emerged unscathed and weaved between the crowd of guests attending the wake. Some of the other guests gave me a curious glance, but it had been too long for anyone to recognize me now. Unlike Kathy, I did not look remotely the same as when I lived here. “Why are the caskets closed?”

“Cousins,” Kathy said easily, barely returning the respectful nods people sent her. “All recently graduated. And the caskets are closed mostly because of the flies.”

My eyebrows raised above my sunglasses, hiding in the hat instead. “The flies? Aren’t they embalmed?”

“Extensively so.” Her words came perfectly clipped from her doll-like mouth, and she gestured towards the closest casket. “Alas, to no avail.”

At first, I didn’t understand what she wanted me to do. A photograph stood on the long side of the casket, depicting a striking young woman with strawberry-blond hair and almost non-existent eyebrows. Familiar in a strange way and as I leaned in to read the name engraved on the plaque, half covered by dangling leaves from all the bouquets, I heard the buzzing. Granny had kept bees out by her summer house, and I had helped her tend to them when I visited. My favorite thing was to put my ear to the deceivingly dormant hive and listen to the insane activity inside. 

This was much like that. While the casket lay dead and still on the pedestal, the insides were alive with what had to be thousands of flies. If not more. So many that the wood vibrated against my palm, and the prickle in my neck came back with a vengeance. Lost in the buzzing and overwhelming smell of all the flowers, I dragged my hand along the first casket to the next one and the next one. All three filled to the brim with the droning of flies. I looked up to Kathy to ask her what the hell had happened to these girls but found a pair of vultures staring at me instead. 

The twins.

[sentient-stove]

grinding my teeth together everytime I think of a new au what do you mean I can’t write siblings annabeth and leo where leo’s foster mother married fredrick chase and annabeth assumes she’s being replaced even though leo just wants a sister ahhhhhhh

[cheaploafs]

no fights are ever won without sacrifice

[rsenak]

Slowly but surely entering my making peace with my writing (again) era

[rivenantiqnerd]

Atreana Meraza (OC): I am not your slave

During After

I will decide my future now.

I will cut my own hair.

I will choose my clothes.

I will choose where to go.

You have no grasp on me anymore,

No control over my life.

You said the law over every piece

And I was just but one of many.

And now I fight

To stop what you did to me,

Just because I was foreign

And looked different from your kind,

From happening to others.

I need not wage a war,

Only lend a helping hand

To others, to escape

To rebel, as I did.

Now your tomb is in the ashes,

Your great city lies in ruin

And now your evil deeds

Won’t have control over me anymore.

I am no longer your slave.

[prettydaisygirl]

Hello beautiful, I hope you're having a good day ♡

I came to ask you for a request about Sirius, my boy haha

One where he and the reader are starting their relationship and she thinks that maybe he doesn't take her as seriously as her previous ex-boyfriends and that after one night together, their first time together as a couple, she thinks that he's going to leave just like that without knowing that he's enthusiastic about aftercare. 😭💗

hello gorgeous!! Thank you so, so much for this request. This is technically the first thing I'm writing for Sirius (minus my wip) so please give feedback if you want! I hope you enjoy this, happy to have you here!

boyfriend!Sirius Black x fem!reader who finds out Sirius loves aftercare ✿ 823 words

cw: NSFW but no actual smut, fem reader, takes place right after their first time together, comparison of sex with Sirius to previous relationships (vague)

sirius black masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure what to do.

You’re fully spent, thighs still trembling, the echo of Sirius’ grunts and praises still in your ear. Your chest heaves with shaking breaths, and Sirius’ hand traces soft, soothing circles over your heart. You try not to relish in it too much. 

The two of you have only been seeing each other for a few weeks, and now you’re tangled together in the sheets for the first time. You feel thoroughly satisfied, though it wasn’t like you weren’t expecting for it to be good. Hell, even better than good considering he's Sirius Black. It was the best sex you’ve ever had. 

Now though, you aren’t sure what to do. Your exes would stay for a bit, give you a goodbye kiss, and slowly get dressed and leave. It was pretty clear with them. It’s never just been… quiet before. 

You sit up, and Sirius’ hand falls to your thigh before sliding off and landing on the bed. He lets out a groan and throws a hand over his eyes. Both of your bodies are slick with sweat and the scent of sex is still thick around you. 

You stretch your arms over your head, eyes tailing over Sirius’ figure. His arm moves enough to reveal his gaze to you, sharp but still dark with lust as you look over him. 

“I think you’ve killed me.” He tells you with a tired but teasing smirk. A flutter ignites in your belly despite your own exhaustion. You return his smile, and the room is enveloped in silence once again. Eventually, you begin feeling self conscious as Sirius just watches you. You turn, sliding your legs off the side of the bed, preparing to stand. 

“Where are you going?” Sirius asks, hand clasping gently around your arm to stop you from standing. You turn back again, brows furrowing just enough to be noticeable. 

“I was just… going to get dressed?” You say it as a question, now feeling a bit uneasy as he sits up too. 

“Why?” Sirius’ eyes look you over and you try not to squirm. It feels ridiculous considering he was just inside you, talking you through your orgasm. “Is it… did you not- was I not good?”

Your eyes widen, the answer to his question leaving your mouth before you even really know what you’re saying. “What? No! No, you-” Your face feels hot and you almost want to avoid his gaze. “You were perfect.”

“Okay…” Sirius is watching you like he’s trying to decipher a code, his hand flattening against your skin before brushing up and down slowly. “Then why are you running away?”

“I’m not!” You deny, though it’s clear to both of you that you definitely are. “I just- we’re done, right? So I thought…”

Your words trail off, and Sirius raises his eyebrows at you expectantly. “You thought…?”

You hate how awkward this is. You’ve never had to decipher a guy like this after sex before. You wonder how it’s possible for him to know your body so well, and yet here the two of you are acting like awkward, fumbling teenagers. “I thought… you’d want to go?”

Sirius blinks a few times, then you’re shrieking loudly as his grip tightens around your arm again and he tugs you close. He wraps his other arm around your back, pulling your body on top of his.

“And what if I want to stay and love on you, eh?” He asks, hands moving to run up and down your back. “What would ever make you think I’d just want to get dressed and leave?”

“I don’t know.” You admit with a soft shrug, suddenly feeling shy now. “We’ve only been together a few weeks, and you were so quiet, I just thought…”

“Well, I think,” He says, moving one hand to cup your jaw while the other settles on your lower back, just at the base of your spine, “You need to stop thinking. Just… be here. With me.”

Your face and heart soften at the same time. You lower your head to press your lips to his, slow and lingering but neither of you deepen it. One of your hands finds the side of his neck as you pull away, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your palm. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” His words are soft and he pulls you down to kiss you again, harder this time. “I want to stay here, with you, in your bed.” He breaks up his words with kisses and you melt like putty under his hands. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Your voice comes out breathy against his mouth, an octave higher than usual. You can feel his lips turn up into a smile, but when he pulls back, you realize it’s more of a smirk.

“Keep begging like that, baby, and you might never get me to leave.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[writing-fanics]

[title wip]

[warning: mentions of cheating: abandoned]

[sneak peek of the idea I had of Lucifer cheating on and abandoning his wife without knowing she was pregnant]

“It’s been awhile,” she gripped her desk, her nails digging into the wood. She breathed in and kept her head down, “Sure has..” Her voice cold, and distant harsh. “Y-You, look great.” He stammered nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes, and scoffed. “Why’re you here?” She asked, finally lifting her head to look at him. He pursed his lips, and he saw it the years of grief and pain he dumped on her when he left her for Lilith.

“I-I wanted to see you?” He said, and she scoffed in response. “Lies.” She said, and glared at him.

“Why’re you really here?” She asked, looking at him coldly. He cleared his throat and looked at her, “U-Um, it’s my daughter she wants a meeting with Heaven.” He said, and she looked at him raising her eyebrow.

“B-But, I did also really wanna see you.” He said, nervously and she rolled her eyes. “Your daughter, wants a meeting with Heaven?” She asked curiously.

“It’s this project she has this dream,” he stammered.

“Hm, she must get it from you.” She said, and he smiled nervously looking at his ex wife.

“I’ll bring the matter to the older Seraphims,” she said, and he smiled letting out a sigh of relief.

“T-Thank you, just hear her out please.” He said, even though he got her the meeting he was nervous. Scared that his daughter, would end up like him. His dreams crushed by Heaven.

He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring anymore. Even though they didn’t officially get divorced, it’s been over ten thousands years since he left her.

His eyes wandered around the room, and landed on a framed photograph. A young man, with golden hair and blue eyes, who looked an awfully a lot like how he did before he was banished to hell. Damien Lightbringer, my light, when all I could see was dark.

He opened his mouth to speak, “You can go now,” She said, before he had time to ask. He raised his finger opening his mouth, “who’s Damien?” She glared at him, her grip tightening around her pen almost breaking it in two.

“Why would you care? You abandoned us?” She snarled, gritting her teeth. Lucifer stood there confused for a moment, as what she said sank in.

“Us?” He mumbled, and she just sighed shaking her head. “The last name isn’t that obvious?” She asked, sarcastically.

Lightbringer - Morningstar?

“Hey, mom I-” Damien entered the room, and froze standing in the doorway. His eyes turned towards his mother who looked at him, sympathetically. As his gaze drifted towards, Lucifer. Damien stared at him with disgust before turning his attention back towards his mother.

Still working on this but eventually she tells him that he’s his son..

Damien hates Lucifer like really hates him.. but if I make multiple chapters will eventually try to fix their relationship or it might just be too late

Not me planning on possibly killing off the son. driving a deeper wedge into Lucifer trying to hopefully fix his relationship with his ex

[leashybebes]

wip whursday? theveral thentence thursday? what do we call this one?

tagged by @trombonechurchill and here is a little something something from (hopefully) the final chapter of allying. henrietta, my beloved, i apologise for the migraine.

His opportunity comes earlier than he was expecting. Bobby's in his office, Chim's pacing the ambulance bay on a call to his landlord, and Hen is alone upstairs, reading a book.

"Hey, Hen? Can I talk to you?"

She closes the book, holding her place with a finger and says, "Sure, Buck. What's up?"

"So, you know that friend I told you about? The one who's just come out?"

"You mean Tommy?"

"No," Buck says quickly. "Not Tommy. This is…another guy."

Hen's eyebrows are impressively high. "O…kay. Another ex-army recently out friend of yours, sure."

"That's right," Buck says, nodding emphatically. "So I think I - um. IthinkIwannatakehimonadate."

"You think you want to…?"

"Take him on a date," Buck says, and blows out a breath. "Yeah. No, I don't think that. I want that. That's what I want."

"I didn't know you dated guys," Hen says, carefully non-judgmental and slides a receipt into the book, setting it aside.

"I don't. I mean, I haven't. Yet."

"Okay. Well, I know you know how to talk, Buck. What do you need from me?"

"It's uh. A little complicated."

Looking like she's already regretting it, Hen asks, "Complicated how?"

"We've uh. Been having sex. Like, a friends with benefits kinda thing. But he thinks I'm straight."

Hen actually rubs her temples, like she has a headache coming on. Rude, but probably not completely unjustified. 

"This guy…who is not Tommy…has been having sex with you…and he thinks you're straight?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why does he think that? How does he think that?"

"Well, I told him I am."

Hen looks at him. The careful non-judgmentalness is completely gone. "Buck. What the hell?"

no pressure tags for @ambernotember, @setmeatopthepyre, @bidisasterevankinard and anyone else who is avoiding work like the plague has something to share

[star-xxx1]

Sticky situations 18+

Ex!Natasha Romanoff x Crazy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: G!p Natasha, Dub-con, guns, blow jobs, overstim, begging, love bites.

A/n: Not proofread, sorry, but enjoy <3.

Natasha groaned, slowly coming to and regaining her senses. Her body stung all over, especially her neck, arms, and ankles. The sensation of wetness covered her neck; a weight sat on her lap. Her mind struggled to make sense of it all, to recall the seconds before she awoke from what felt like a deep, deep sleep. Only moments ago, she was on a mission; now she was so confused. She opened her eyes and looked around, taking in her surroundings cautiously. She looked down and saw you. Her ex-girlfriend.

Straddled on her lap, passionately marking up her neck like a tally in game, each mark was a mark of possession. Seeing you, her brain finally made the connection of the strange feeling on her neck. She groaned. She didn't even have to look know that you've made her whole neck a mess. Trying to pull away, you looked up at the sudden moment. "Natty, baby, Hi," you said sweetly, wiping the slobber around your mouth. "Mh." She grunted, You moved to kiss her pretty lips, but she pulled away.

"Y/n what the fuck!?" She said, trying to pull her arms up but all she was met with is tightness and resistance. Her arms and legs were tied. She looked up at you. "What are you trying to do?" The redhead barked at you. "Natty, please, I really need you. I'm needy and horny and I miss you." You whine to her.

"Not my problem." Natasha hissed. "But it is, I'm your sweet girl, after all? Like you said, I am and always will be." Your hand coming up to hold her soft cheek.

Natasha spat on your gentle face, her saliva landing right on your cheek and sidling down. Natasha watched as you wipped it up and lick it straight off your fingers and giggled. "Mhhh, spitting? wanna spit in my mouth next?"

"Oh fuck off y/n, get off me!" She said squirming unneath you. "Natty, baby, why are you resisting your girlfriend?" You pouted at her getting upset. "You're not my girlfriend anymore! For fuck sakes Y/n how times do I have tell, stop calling me! Stop texting me! Stop showing up everywhere -"

You covered her precious mouth, the barrel of a gun pressing firmly stomach. "Natasha, we're together," You took a deep breath, eyes holding strong emotions staring deep into her eyes, your grip tightening on her beautiful mouth, "We didn't break up!" You shouted. "Yes, we did!" Her protest coming out muffled. "You crazy bitch!"

"I will fucking shoot you!" You screamed getting, upset. "Straight in the stomach and you can bleed out alone and fuck off into hell." You yelled, the sound of you stressed voice echoing through the empty warehouse. She didn't flinch, but it shut her up. Natasha knew there was no way out, no matter what she did. You would find her, how the fuck can such a small girl find a highly skilled spy so easily? She tried so hard, but you were just everywhere, even in her dreams, haunting her, begging her for her to come back, sobbing screaming. You were obsessed, digustingly, and deep-seatedly in love. She was bound to you.

"Natasha." You said, looking into her pricing eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, baby, you just know how i get when it comes to you." You kissed her forehead. She didn't look impressed at all. You removed your hand from her mouth. You waited for an answer, expecting her to forgive you immediately like she usually did. But nothing, just a cold stare. Your lips pressed together, waiting.

"I think you've forgot how much I need you, how much I love you." Your hands trail down her suit. "Mabye, I have to remind you." Natasha's body stiffened as you started touching her your hands trailing down, but she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. She gritted her teeth, trying to resist your advances. "Don't you dare touch me."

You grabbed Natashas dick squeezing it from outside the suit. "Baby, don't you like when I do this?" You squeezed and rubbed her clothed cock. Natashas jaw tightened as you touched her cock, little groans escape her mouth at the sensation of your manicured hands squeezing and adding pressure, it gree harder and harder. "Y/n." Natasha said.

"Yes natty?" You chimed.

"Get off." You ingored her, slipping out a pocket knife out her weapon belt. You cut and sliced through her suit and boxers. Her body shivered with arousal as her thick, long cock sprang free from its confines, pre cum splattering on her stomach. It was so hard, so needy it needed to be dealt with immediately. "Mhh, baby, I miss you." You whispered, kissing her cheek. "Y/n." She whimpered, your soft hand wrapped around her cock, it was hot, throbbing.

She will admit, she did miss everything about you, she regretted leaving. She missed her old amazing sex life, not her current one, which was filled with so many different sex toys. She refused to let other people touch her in a sexual manner. It felt wrong. It felt like she was betraying you.

You got off her lap, settling in between her strong legs. You kissed her cock, rubbing your face all over her veiny shaft. "See im still your good girl."

Her breathing becomes heavy as she watches you on your knees. She bites her lip and starts to respond to your teasing. "Fuck you. don't do that."

You kissed her senstive pink tip. Her body shudders as she feels your lips against her cock. She gasps loudly, her back arching off the chair slightly. Despite her resistance, her hips start to move involuntarily, grinding against your face. "Don't. don't."

"Baby, just admit you want a blow job." You teased her. "I don't. I can't." Her words are punctuated by moans as she tries to resist the pleasure but fails miserably. Her hips continue to grind against your face, her cock leaking pre-cum onto your lips. You stared up at her, kitten licking her tip. "Beg, baby."

"Please, don't..." She whimpers out the word, her body shaking with desire. Despite herself, she can't help but push her hips forward slightly, offering more of her cock to your mouth. "I- I want you to suck me off... please."

"That's it, baby." You took her throbbing cock into her mouth. Your voice comes out muffled. "Come on, move, you always told me to work for it." You smirked. Natasha's eyes close as she feels your mouth close around her cock. She tries to pull away, but the sensation is too much for her to resist. She moans loudly, her hips bucking against your face as you tease her by not moving. "Baby,please, please, suck it." She begged. You didn't bugged. "I'm begging you!" Natasha cries out, her voice strained with desire. Her hips buck wildly against your face, seeking the release she craves. "Please need you to suck my cock."

"Please, fuck" Natasha body trembles with need as she continues to beg, her voice filled with desperation. Her cock throbs against your lips, leaking pre-cum onto your tongue. "I'll do anything. Just suck me off."

You shook head no. "Please!" Her Protest turns into a moan of frustration as she feels herself on the edge of orgasm without release. Her hips jerk forward, pressing her cock against your mouth, pleading for you to take her. "Please." After awhile wildly thrusting her thick cock into your warm mouth, her moans fill the room as her body shudders with ecstasy, her hips bucking violently against your face. Cum pours into your mouth, sweet and salty on your tongue. She pants and groans as she does a few extra hard thrusts. You look at your girlfriend, eyes screwing shut in pleasure forehead dripping with sweat. You started sucking her off. "O-oh..." Her eyes flutter open, surprised by the sudden change in sensation. Despite her initial resistance, she can't help but whimper as you start sucking on her sensitive, still hard cock, your pretty lips wrapping around her dick. "Holy shit." She bites her lip to keep from screaming out as she feels your hot mouth engulfing her entire massive cock. Her fingers dig into the chaie holding tight as she loses control to the pleasure you've unleashed. "Fuck."

Your head bopped up and down fast, gagging noise echoing as you deepthroated so her into your tight throat. Tears ran down your precious face, making her down wild, your mascara running down you rosy cheeks. Gripped her thighs, letting her fuck you face, her hips wildly thrusting, stomach tightening.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." Natasha's words become incoherent, babbling about how good it was, as she approaches her second orgasm. Natasha looked like she was going insane, body lifting of the chair, only to be met with restraints her loud whinpers and moans of pleasure, toes curling in her heavy combat boots, eyes rolled back, head thrown back, she panted like a dog in heat. It was sloppy and wet, cum and slavia dripping down your chin and all down her thighs.

Natasha's orgasm crashes over her, her body trembling as she releases all of her pent-up tension into your mouth. Her cock twitches and spurts, filling your throat with warm cum. You swallowed it like a good girl, not wasting a drop.

"Fuck, y/n." She whimpered. You let go off her soaked cock with loud pop. You came up and sat on her lap, getting the knife, and and cutting her restraints. You hugged her tightly. "See, I said you needed reminding."

"Yes, baby." She kissed your cheek, hugging you back.

"Natty." Your voice broke. "Mh, baby?" She mutter. "Please don't go again," she pulled away to look into your eyes, filled with vulnerability and weakness. Without her, you were lost, nothing, you need to be guided by her, only her.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, so so so sorry." She voiced love. "I won't ever again, promise." You kissed her deeply. She could tasted herself on your tongue.

"You are my good girl, forever." she smirked. You smiled down at her.

"I love you natty, so much," you said.

"Love you way more." She kissed you again, wrapping her arms tight around you.

She did, and she was sorry, so very sorry for hurting you, she promise to make it up to you. She would do anything for you, anything.

Comments would be appreciated <3333

[alvfr]

The Ex from Hell - Part 1

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

This is what I wrote based on this prompt here and I liked it so much it spawned more parts, so I'm trying to collect them. I'd love to hear your thoughts if you take the time to read and feel free to reblog if you want <3

WIP: The Ex from Hell Excerpt rating: T Word count: 2.4k

The important thing to remember, was that I was not trying to summon a demon. The fact that I was not trying to summon a demon while performing a ritual to summon a demon definitely complicated things, but my life was nothing if not complicated. It should not have worked. I had skipped half the so-called essential equipment and preparations listed in the Book, slapped the sigil down in broad messy strokes using a broken makeup brush, and mumbled most of the incantations under my breath so low I barely heard it myself. It should not have worked.

And yet, the sigil — painted in bright millenial pink leftover from a DIY project — started to glow on the concrete floor. So far along, the ritual pulled out the rest of the incantations from my mouth, I could not have stopped now even if I tried, while a tension built everywhere in the room, including my body. It pushed and pulled in my chest, my throat, my sinuses, my skull, my eyes — growing and growing until I feared my whole head would pop right off my shoulders. It did not. With the anti-climax of a cut trip wire, the dam burst and the sigil flashed so bright I almost lost my vision and was left to stare blindly at the vaguely humanoid shape appearing in a vortex of smoke and shadows. The smell of burning filled the damp basement, mixing with the sickening odor of mold and rotten wood.

The thing, still concealed in the dark, spoke in a guttural tone; its language sounding as old and dead as the civilization it once stemmed from. Probably asking the standard question about which foolish mortal had dared summon them, yadda yadda yadda. Stars continued to dance before my eyes and I blinked several times in order to adjust to the dim light after all the poor LED-candles had gone out from the demon’s arrival.

“English, please,” I said and coughed from the thick smog that coiled into my throat. “And can you do something about that smoke before it sets off the carbon monoxide detector?”

To its credit, the smoke cleared in an instant while a way-too-familiar voice said in perfect modern-day English: “You have got to be kidding me.”

And as my eyes adjusted, I wished they had not. For standing in the circle atop the haphardouzly painted sigil, naked and perfectly sculpted like a mahogany statue, stood none other than my ex-husband. 

“Santiago?” I spat, out of breath and unable to put the appropriate amount of venom into his name. “What are youdoing here?”

Because it was him. Everything about him exactly as I remembered, apart from his eyes that glowed a dull red, like the reflection of a distant hellfire. Not even the finest shapeshifter or body double could manage such a perfect replica and especially not the expression of pure and utter contempt highlighted by the curl of his lip and the pull of his brows. 

“What am I doing here?” His voice, unheard for seven years now, cut its way through my ear canals like every vowel wielded a razor. Determined to carve out the path again after all this time. “I was summoned! An exclusive VIP-can’t-refuse-can’t deny invitation dragging me back to this horror show of a dimension. The real question is, what are youdoing here? And where,” he swept his muscular arm along the room with his suspicious glare trailing, “is the foolish mortal who dared summon me and will regret it to their dying day?”

“What did you just call me?” 

“I called you nothing!”

“Foolish mortal?” I repeated in a mocking deep voice, arms already crossed over my chest and hip cocked to the side. “Why do you talk like some kind of,” the realization slapped into my brain like a ruler over my fingers, taking the question mark out of my mouth as I whispered, “demon.”

Instead of the hard denial a part of me still hoped for, Santiago’s vivid attention returned to me and my skin grew prickly and cold. He tilted his head, like a grown hellhound burdened with behavior imprinted as a puppy, a habit always displayed when he was confused. “You summoned me?”

“No!” The word shot out before I could stop it and I gritted my teeth before amending it to: “Well, yes, but not on purpose.”

“You what then? Tripped over the paint bucket, swore in ancient Akkadian and accidentally performed a summoning ritual?” Santiago took a step forward, stopped and gave his surroundings another disdainful glance. His lip curled further into what could only be classified as a snarl. “Now what in the eight blazing hells is this?”

“Nothing.” I bit my teeth together, but was helpless at the sound of his impatient snort. “It’s just a circle.”

“A circle? This isn’t a circle, it’s a damned fun fair laser show.”

“It’s a circle, gods be damned! It just happens to be made up of LED-strips.” My defence raised immediately at the sight of his disbelieving face, the distant memories all too close in the blink of an eye. “You make do with what you have, all right?”

“Of course. A circle, made from whatever trash you happened to have lying around. What are you, some kind of,” his voice turned cold and changed its pitch before his last word, “witch.” He drew his hand over his mouth, each of his fingers ending in sharp black nails I had failed to notice before. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah, oh no. For once, I agree with you. “I barely looked up from where my finger trailed the handwritten lines of the Book. “Now shut up for a second.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if I accidentally used the Summon-A-Lying-Two-Timing-Scumbag spell instead of the Summon-A-Demon one! Not that they’re mutually exclusive, as demonstrated by your very presence.” I slapped the book shut, erupting a cloud of dust that made me cough. “I can’t believe you never told me you were a frickin’ demon, Santi!”

His voice sounded like a roaring waterfall just before the surface. “Just like you never told me you were a filthy, disgusting witch!” 

Witch. Witch witch witch witch witch.

“Because I’m not!” Again, the pressure in my chest made me chomp down on my own lip. “Or I wasn’t. Look, I used to be one, then I quit, and now I’m sort of back, but I don’t really want to be, okay?”

“Glad to see your remarkable eloquence has remained unchanged.” Santiago’s hooded eyes looked heavier than before, as if consumed with instant boredom in my presence. The familiarity wreaked havoc with my insides. “And you never cared to mention this during our three years of holy matrimony?”

“There was nothing holy about our marriage,” I snapped back, my knuckles turning white from clutching the Book in my hands. “Apart from the sex. Speaking of, could you use your demonic shenanigans and conjure some clothes?”

His voice smoothed as river water reaching the sea as his lean body tightened further. “Am I distracting you?”

“Yes,” I bit out, knowing myself defenceless from trying to subjugate the truth. For all the hardships our marriage had suffered, his physical appearance had not been part of it. “I honestly thought I’d never have to say this again, but cover up your damned dick, Santi.”

So familiar with the workings of his face, I recognized both when his mouth moved to stretch into a dangerous smile and when it stopped in puzzlement. The way the nostrils of his slightly hooked nose flared, the way his thick eyebrows twitched up — either struggling with the effort of conjuring the loose pants materializing on his lower body or with the effort of fighting it.

“What,” he growled, “in the eight hells is this?”

“I told you. It’s a circle.”

“You trapped me! Spellbound me! Oh, you dirty little sneaky witch, you really are all the same, aren’t you?”

“I sure as hell didn’t have plans to make any kind of pact, if that’s what you mean. And definitely not with you.” I forfeited his attention in favor of the Book, flipping through crinkled pages in fast succession. “Now can you shut up?”

“What are you looking for now, witch, in that little book of yours?” 

“A vanquishing spell. We need to get you out of here.”

A puff of smoke came out his nostrils. “Hmph. You went through all this trouble just to cast me aside again? Without telling me why I’m even here? For what purpose you summoned me?” Even while straining my eyes on the Book, Santiago’s glare sent shivers down my spine. “Which of the tedious reasons can it be? Humans are all the same, after all. My first guess would be money, but you are looking plumper and softer than ever before so that can’t be it. Sex?” A tantalizing tilt to both his jaw and tone. “Have you caught an itch you can’t scratch yourself these days? The trap blocks your scent, it’s hard to tell. It can’t be power, not when you managed to ensnare me with this circus rendition of a circle. So what does that leave?”

I did not look up — I had found the correct spell, at least I hoped so — but had to answer. “Protection.”

“Protection?” he repeated, all of a sudden so human-like it made my heart ache. “Protection from what?”

Before I could reply, a heavy knocking sounded from the basement door and a skeleton claw of fear grasped my heart harder than ever this night. “Have you quite finished, girl? Is the demon fully subdued?”

“Not yet, Grandaunt Hester,” I said and winced at the high infliction of my voice. I gave Santi a wide-eyed look, pleading with him to keep quiet until she went away. “Give me a little more time, please, Grandaunt Hester.”

A different voice came from the door now, reedier and harder. “We don’t have much time, child. Hurry.”

“I will.” 

Santiago made motion to speak, but I flapped my hand at him to make him wait until sure the old hags had gone back up the stairs. The way his jaw set and his eyes widened as he glared at me told me everything I needed to know and I bowed my head to escape that look, trying to decipher the Book’s writing instead. Despite my attempts, I caught the way he again surveyed the basement and the stack of boxes along the wall, each marked with a different name.

“We’re in your family home,” he whispered; not a question, saving me the trouble of coming up with an answer. “You hate your family. Would rather poke your eyeballs out than spend another minute in their presence. Or at least that’s what you told me.” Not a question either, did not beget an answer. “Was it a lie? What is going on?”

Damn. 

“No, it wasn’t a lie,” I said and avoided any and all of his attempts to look me in the eyes. It was never a lie. Could never be a lie. “It’s complicated, okay? Things have changed. I have changed. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t trying to summon you — or any other demon for that matter, but I had to at least make half of an attempt so I could tell Grandaunt Hester that I did and now we need to get you back before they come down here and sees you.”

“Oh, I see. You’re that kind of witch, are you?” Santi’s dull red eyes glinted in the shadows. “No wonder you were always such a bitch. Could not help yourself. I just have one question, disgraced queen of my heart.” I steeled myself for the inevitable, but Santi’s eyes seemed to have caught on something and he asked: “What is that half-dead succulent doing on my sigil?”

“Book said there had to be a living sacrifice.”

“Traditionally that would mean a little baby goat or a lamb. Maybe a rooster.”

“Okay, this is the twenty-first century, it’s not like you can just go out to the mall and get yourself a live goat or a frickin’ rooster in the middle of the day. Besides, you know I have allergies.”

“I do know that.” His head tilted as he watched me. “And so you used a succulent. I see no gifts or offerings, this sigil is half a brushstroke away from being inelligeble, not to mention in a most gaudish color, these candles run on batteries where half of them have already failed, and you stand there fully clothed when I know for a fact that every last penned summoning ritual begets complete and utter nudity. And yet,” he held up a clawed finger to still my protest about how damned cold it was down here, “it worked. Why?”

“You make do with what you have,” I repeated myself from earlier, as honest an answer as I could make it. “Now shut up, I need to concentrate.” I held the book aloft and started stumbling through the unfamiliar language, feeling the strings of my mind pulling the strings of the universe.

“Are you seriously going to vanquish me?” He sounded dreadfully bored. “Me? Dead rose of my garden, you know me. Let me out of the circle and we can talk.” The incantations flowed out my mouth, preventing me from answering his increasingly desperate questions. The shadows swirled, the sigil flared. “Stop it now, my broken-winged dove. What do you need protection from? Why do you need a demon? Do you need help? I can give you that, just stop talking and open this circle. Put down the book.” The further my words went, the stronger my voice grew and the basement filled with the opposite of the pressure from earlier. A vacuum, no less uncomfortable for that. “Put down that book and talk to me, hells be damned!” 

Incantation done, I put down the book just as he asked and watched the shadow vortex crawl up Santiago’s legs. “This was awful. Let’s never do it again.”

“You have changed,” Santiago snarled, sounding choked on the smoke expelled from the sigil. “Grown fat and strong, have you? Sober, even?”

“Painfully so. Now go to hell, Santiago.”

All the strings of the universe grew taut and rigid before everything shattered with the same anti-climatic pop from before. Only the sigil, painted in my favorite color, and the forlorn LED-strips remained in the basement. I closed the book and braced myself for facing my Grandaunt Hester, planning to give her nothing but the truth. 

Not the whole truth, but nothing but the truth. 

[lettherebepain]

I wasn't tagged but this looks fun, so I wanted to do it for my wip (Wicked Amends)

1. Villian merges fae and things

2. Meet-Cutes and Dragon Attacks

3. No good deed goes Unpunished

4. Oh shit, magic actively hurts mages!

5. Villian Lied, Mages Died

6. Relearning to fight plus frustration

7. Save Loki and fight fenrir

8. Fight thor and odin

9. Betrayal! Plus injury to everyone

10. Realization of being used/conditioned his whole life

11. Boyfriend is a jarl again, neat

12. Protags a viking and vikings raid churches

13. Dragon 2.0

14. We are in Hel

15. Revenge is a dish best served cold

I don't know who to tag so I won't :D

I need to interact with people more so I can make friends and learn who liked to do these things lol.

I wanna add more in, but I hit the 15, so I'll stop. Especially since this is a summary and not like, a full disclosure XD

Vaguely Summarised WIP Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @faeriecinna! :D

Rules: summarise your WIP in 15 2-5 word bullet points (as if you were trying to summarize it in 15 seconds). I'll do this for Like Snow on Hungry Graves:

Merfolk

Dragons

Various undead people

Black comedy

Starts out as psychological horror

Turns into a grim rom-com

Then the eldritch abomination appears

Somehow this is all Rusudan's fault

Everyone has chronic backstabbing disorder

Communication? They don't know her

Aww how cute-- OH NO

At least five people at any given time: Elamirja NO!

Considering the people involved this is the healthiest relationship possible

What do you call it when a dead person excavates the city they lived (and died) in? Self-archaeology?

ELAMIRJA. ELAMIRJA PUT THE KNIFE DOWN.

Tagging @autumnalwalker, @revenantlore, @illarian-rambling, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

[xotoru]

Ex-emo Bakugo

wc:546 warnings: not proofread at all… :p

your boyfriend had an emo phase. He doesn’t even like to think of it and if anyone besides you ever brought it up he would be sure to make a Christmas ornament out of their head. You almost didn’t believe him when he told you about it but when he showed you some pictures of him in his middle and highschool with an old skull t-shirt, black guy liner and studded bracelets, you knew you had seen it all.

Before the photos it was hard to imagine anything. your pristine, angry, suit and tie wearing husband, being an emo? it just didn’t even make any sense in your mind. you nearly lost it when he dug out some of his old cd’s. one of them was even dedicated to you from back in high school! he was too afraid to ask you out but spent hours burning the cd ad probably getting about a million viruses on his computer for you. he wouldn’t let you listen to that one cause he would “explode of embarrassment” but he did tell you that ‘she makes dirty words sound pretty’ by pierce the veil was on there.

when you guys visited his parents house and he found his old cd player in his childhood bedroom you basically begged for him to bring it home so you could finally see what was on these cd’s after all. and well you are his gorgeous wife who he can never say no to, so of course he does. and when you guys make the trip down to your basement to listen to the cd's you can't help but crack up and have your heart melt at the sound of “American idiot” by Green Day blasting on the old cd player the second it pops in.

he doesn’t even fight at your laughter. cracking a small smile himself as he stares down at the cd case and shakes his head like an old man looking back at his days in the war. Although it's embarrassing to think back on him , he still doesn’t stop you from putting more CDs on. some with slow songs. some with songs that reverberate off the walls more than his explosions while he's training.

He in all honesty finds this moment between you two very sweet. although he would bitterly rather eat 1,000 shards of broken glass and then down a jug of straight lemon juice then admit it it's the turret. The only issue is after this super sweet moment, any alternative song you hear when you guys are in public has you slowly turning to face him with a stupidly smug smirk.

you guys are in zumiez trying to buy yourself some new sneakers seeing as your old ones have been around forever. you're waiting to say at the register when “take me away” by fefe Dobson comes on over the speakers. of course since you can't help yourself but be annoying to your beloved husband. you turn to face him slowly. a sly grin on your lips as you do so. “don’t even.” he says sternly as he avoids your eyes like the plague.getting his card out to pay for your shoes and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

thought I would channel the emo inside me with this one...tehe. also this is not what I was talking about working on earlier. I wipped this up in 10 minutes cause I knew if I didn’t post today y’all would hate me...also I just realized some of this makes no sense, sorry!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Good Behaviour 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, et

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: after release, you try to get on the right track but your new boss isn’t much help. (ex-con reader)

Characters: Loki

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The phone rings. You pick up eagerly, nearly fumbling the receiver. You steady it and clear your throat. "Laufeyson Accounting, how may I help you today?"

"Ah, such a sweet voice. It is Jonathan Pine. I believe we met the other day?" The smooth timbre replies. You nod as you cradle the phone with your shoulder and keep typing.

"I remember. I'm afraid Mr. Laufeyson is out of office at the moment. He should be back short--" you voice catches as the door opens, as if on cue. You truly hope the thought of the man doesn't summon him so easily. "Shortly."

Laufeyson gestures with his finger for you to be silent. You squint and clear your throat.

"I can take a... message."

You falter as your boss approaches you. He rounds you and turns your chair so your legs are out from beneath the desk. You nearly swipe the keyboard and mouse onto the floor. You grip the desk's edge with one hand as the phone cord stretches before you. You watch him in confused irritation.

"Ah, simply tell him to give me a ring," Pine sighs. "But what of you? How do you like working for the man? He can be rather temperamental."

You furrow your brow as Laufeyson gets to his knees. What the hell is he doing? You shift as he runs his hand up your calves and up to your skirt. You ball your fist.

His green eyes sparkle at you as the drone of the phone tickles your brain.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pine. I didn't catch that."

Laufeyson tilts his head and arches a brow. He bends to kiss above your knee. Okay, he's delusional. He can't be doing this right now.

"I was saying I do hope you get some time off. Knowing the man, he would be the type to have you working overtime--"

Laufeyson slides his hands up your skirt and scoops them under your ass. You swallow your voice and cough.

"Eight hours a day," you try to put more than detest into your tone as your skirt rides up higher and higher. Laufeyson trails his lips up your thigh and instinctively you catch the top of his head. "I appreciate you checking in. I'll let him know you called. I'm just getting someone on the other--" He jerks you so your hips tilt and you slip in the chair. "line! Bye."

You flail and slam the receiver into the cradle. It hits the button and bounces off as it falls from your grasp. The dial tone quietly hums.

"You are getting rebellious," Laufeyson chides and bites your thigh above your stockings.

"Sir--" You sputter. "I was on a call. With your client."

"Tut, tut," he runs his finger over the lace at the top of your stocking, his other hand still buried beneath you. "I've more urgent business at hand." He kneads your ass as his hand slips up to your naked cunt. "That woman is abhorrent. I am rather in need of a palette cleanser."

You pull your hand back to clasp the arm rests. In that moment, the choice dangles before you; swat his incessant head or grit your teeth and bear the price of freedom.

He smirks as he drags his hand from beneath you. He shoves your skirt higher as his fingers glide along your slit. You clench but not out of any need. Only for it to be quick.

"I could--" you try to push yourself off the seat. "Finish--"

"Ah," he jabs your hip and you drop back down. "As I will have you."

He spreads his fingers wide along your thigh and squeezes as he watches his other hand. He tickles along your cunt and snickers. He bites the tip of his tongue as he glides between your lips. You wince.

"Irony, isn't it? The woman sworn to keep criminals in line is all but repulsive, yet the rat that's escape its cage is so... delightful."

You bite down. What's ironic, or rather hypocritical, yeah that it, is that this man proclaims moral superiority yet behaves as bad as those you broke bread with in the prison mess.

He flutters his fingers along your clit and traces down to your entrance. He swipes back up again, deliberate as he teases your cluster of nerves only to flick back up. You turn your face away as your body responds to his diligence.

"Hmm, shall I taste the forbidden fruit?" He purrs as he leans in.

You tense as he drags his fingers down and bows his head. His breath grazes your skin and his hand trails down your thighs. He kisses the curls along your pelvis and delves his tongue into your warmth. A squeak escapes you.

He hooks his hands around your thighs and pulls you further down the chair as he angles you to his feast. He spreads his tongue wide to taste you, then swirls the tip around your clit. You twitch and chew your cheeks, fighting the declaration of your surrender.

The sight of his sleek hair between your thighs sends a quiver through you. A mingling of disgust and thrill. It isn't him, only the years of neglect. Or maybe it's what you've never known. You're no stranger to that need but you've never had it fed.

"No, I can..." you push on his head, "I'll do... I'll... you..."

The fragments of your protest tumble around you. You reach up to grasp the back of the chair, gripping tight the arm rest as you slip further down. The noise of his eager lapping fills the office, his breath buffing up your thighs. He hums and growls as he drinks you in.

A flare of anger sparks beneath the heat of rising bliss. How can he do this? After all that you've let him do, he cannot be pleased. He has to debase you in any way he can. Even if it means you enjoy it.

"L--Mr.--" you stammer as your head lolls back and forth. "No-- stop." Your stomach knots and your chest pounds. No, you! You stop.

He seals his lips around your clit and the sudden draw of pressure makes you spasm. You clap your hand over your mouth and your voice escape through your fingers. Your eyes roll back as a tide flows over you.

"Mr. Lauf--"

He purrs and rolls over you. Your voice clogs in your throat and you curl your fingers as you turn your hand. You bite your knuckle as the swell crashes down and breaks into ripples through your muscles.

He coaxes you through the after waves as you shudder. He nuzzles into you, smearing your cum around his nose and mouth. That sends a twinge of revulsion through you. You pull yourself up as he sits back on his heels and licks his lips.

"Loki?" The stunned tone has you sitting up immediately.

The monitor blocks all by Frigga's long face and silver blond waves. You plant your feet as you try to tug down your skirt. "Shit," you hiss.

Laufeyson stares at you as he pokes his tongue in his cheek. He wipes his face with his sleeve, a shade of crimson kissing his sharp cheeks. He braces the corner of the desk and stands, staying behind it as he stiffly faces the unexpected drop-in.

"Mother," he greets in a strangled cough.

Her lashes flick, "yes, well, I only came by to... well, I've gone and forgotten..." she chuckles nervously. She looks at you. "I'm very sorry. Er, oh, but dear," she touches her neck. "I am not unhappy for the match."

"Mother," he adjusts his belt subtly behind the monitor. "It isn't-- please, we should talk."

"Not now, I think," she trills. "I will make an appointment." She turns to the door and pauses. "And I did try to call. The phone was off the hook."

"Mother--" he repeats but she's too quick.

She leaves and as the door snaps shut, you plummet back to the depths of reality. You grab the receiver and put it in the cradle. You sigh.

"Well," he turns to you and puts his hands on his hips. He looks down at his trousers. "You've made a fine mess." He runs his hand over to his buckle. "Best clean it up, darling."

You glare up at him. As you stew in shame, this man can't find an ounce of it.

He unbuckles and you feel the last of the adrenaline scatter. Numbly, you push yourself to the edge of the chair. With your heels, you walk it closer, the wheels skimming the floor.

"Ah ah, I want you in nothing but those stockings," he tisks. "They are rather fetching."

You look up at him. Jaw locked, lips sealed, cheeks taut. You reach to your blouse and sweep it over your head. He strides around the desk, a hand still on his pants, and locks the door. He returns to you with a snicker.

You stand to slip out of your now wrinkled skirt. You lay your clothes on the desk, on piece at a time. You unhook your bra last and reach for the chair. He kicks it away.

"Kneel," he commands.

Your cheek ticks. His own dimples as he notices. You cautiously lower yourself. He pushes down his pants and pulls his dick above his silky boxers. He strokes his length as he steps closer.

He presses his tip to your lips as he grabs the back of your head. He traces your lips and hums. He does it again, brushing around your mouth as he sighs.

"Open, darling," he slithers.

You obey and stare at the tails of his shirt, hanging loosely down his pelvis. He pushes you onto him, fingers splays across your skull. You latch onto his pants before he can gag you.

He chuckles again and slips his hand down to your throat. You tilt your head as he inches deeper. Your eyes water and you hold your breath as he ignores the strain of his intrusion. He pets your throat as he feels himself from the outside.

"You take me well, pet," he hums and eases back. "I wonder if it's practice or you are merely made to serve?"

He rocks into you slowly. He basks in ever dip down your throat, retreating with a haughty purr each time until his tip rests on your lip. In, out, in, out.

"Look at you, hmm?" He taunts. "I do think I've been rather generous in offering you a second chance. Hm?"

He groans and bites down on his breath.

"So good," he purrs. "Never..."

His voice unfurls into sultry snarls.

You puff around him, head throbbing, nails dug into his pants. You close your eyes as the mascara runs into them. You ball up all the anger and humiliation and let it sink into your stomach.

Just get it over with. That mantra always got you through. Childhood, teenage angst, prison... this is just one more thing.

You have survived worse than this man. You will survive him. Right?

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

(tumblr said fuck you and blurred them all to hell so pls click for better quality)

making transformers fusions inspired by steven universe like it's 2015

bonesaw: drift + ratchet + wheeljack

constellation: starscream + optimus prime

prosecutor: knock out + breakdown

descriptions/backstory/blabbing/progress pics under the cut!

--

1st is named Bonesaw: drift + ratchet + wheeljack; they transform into some sort of medical/ambulance helicopter, using their sword blades (cuz we're using idw drift and tfp wheeljack here) as propellors. a very strong fusion, but they can't stay fused very long because i feel as though ratchet wouldn't like being fused, and they'd all argue a bit too much

2nd is Constellation: optimus prime + starscream; this is the one that started it all because ive been on a bit of a starop kick and had this whole animatic playing in my mind of Constellation taunting megatron like garnet does jasper in Stronger Than You LOL. they transform into a space shuttle and the name comes from, yk, STARscream and Orion. if this is thru the lens of starop, theyre fairly compatible, until starscream's impulsiveness and optimus' patience/humility causes them to split

3rd is Prosecutor, pronounced like "PROSE", emphasis on the "rose": knock out + breakdown. not 100% set on the name but his design felt flowery/rose-esque esp since im gonna go with a dusty pink/lavender so i wanted something elegant/floral and yet tough LOL. not 100% sure about his alt mode yet, im thinking like a hummer or a jeep or something???? idk. something Fashionable yet tough. theyre probably constantly fused. like, theyre so close/attached at the hip they fuse without even realizing it until someones like "oh, hey, prosecutor"

ANYWAY this was just a fun little art exercise more than anything, again inspired by the fact Stronger Than You was on a starop playlist i was listening to and thought itd be really funny if megatron was taunted by both his exes for being single LMAOOO

some wips/other scribbles:

[phyrestartr]

Prisoner of the Coast | Sukuna x M!Reader (WIP)

#SFW wip, reader is a water dragon, sukuna is a ronin, lore, mythology, there's plot, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, probably sad ending?, AU note: I JUST WANTED TO POST SOMETHING IDK

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

Fear was not what he felt. Ryoumen Sukuna did not fear you who he faced; he was not a weak man. He was not a faint-hearted warrior. He was not a coward. But gleaming, ghastly eyes reminded him of mortality. Of the very human blood embedded in his veins. 

And the longer those round, moonlit eyes stared, the longer they sliced through the endless, empty blankness of the forgotten seaside palace, the louder that sound of drumming shook Sukuna's skull, against his ribs. But he was not afraid; he did not fear the gods. He would not fear one of their ilk in the flesh. 

The sound of water shifting echoed in the infinite void, dancing off distant walls as shards of light managed to catch on gentle, lapping wakes. Yet your head never moved an inch. Sukuna had seen other snakes do the same in his travels, keeping their heads still while their bodies squeezed and slithered–but their eyes were bound to fall closed. Yours stayed awake. Staring like the head of a Lion Dance puppet. Abnormal. Unaware of such abnormality. 

Sukuna gripped one of his swords tightly, ready to quick-draw if you'd chosen to strike. Gods were like that–hateful, horrible, honourless–and he expected nothing less from a beast like you; however, you'd been meandering towards him his entire stay, he realized too late. Slow. Quiet. Patient. The way one might approach a scared animal. 

I'm not getting paid enough for this shit. Sukuna found a smile, though. Maybe I’m getting paid too fuckin’ much. Who the hell does this thing need protecting from, huh? 

The question gnawed on his mind as your grandeur size became near-tangible–then, your eyes closed. Right when Sukuna started to make out the glint of scales against the moonlight of your eyes, the shimmering glow vanished, leaving only dappling sunlight streaming in from time-worn holes in the towering ceiling. 

“What do you want?” A man’s voice, your voice, asked from the shadows. The source was lower than before, ringing from a height so oddly human it gave Sukuna whiplash. 

“Ho? A shapeshifter?” Sukuna wondered, grinning. “You think you can take me on like that?”

“I don’t intend to ‘take you on’ at all, samurai.” You sighed and paced. Sukuna followed the sound of bare feet stepping on stones, coupled with the stiff drag of something scratching against the floor. Perhaps a tail? Perhaps fins? He didn’t know. The sunlight protecting him proved too stark against the shadows you dwelled within. 

“Someone has sent you here,” you decided. Sukuna felt your stare on him, though he could not see the twin lights. “My parents.” 

The grip on his blade lessened. “More or less. Said there was a godling that needed babysitting.” 

“Babysitting–?! The fucking audacity. Well, I promise you, this isn’t babysitting.” You snapped, bitter. 

Sukuna smirked. Never did he imagine a god-like thing would be so rough around the edges. “Then what would you call it?”

“Imprisonment.” You stepped toward the light when you said it, coming from an angle Sukuna didn’t expect, making him whirl in place and face the shadowed silhouette standing too close yet too far away. “And you’re my own, personal jailer.” Then, after a moment, you added, “Well. I guess it is glorified babysitting afterall. Expensive babysitting, at that. Congratulations on the easy money.” 

“That mean you’re gonna make this simple for me?” Sukuna asked. He tucked his arms into his sleeves as he waited for you to say something, but you only stepped back into the empty blackness filling your glorious cage. 

“Might as well,” your voice echoed, wilting, “I don’t care to leave this place anyway.” 

“‘N why the hell not?” He asked. 

But there was no answer; there was only the quiet splash of water, and twin ghost lights disappearing into the depths.

[kay-elle-cee]

Happy Holidays and Happy Rec-mas to you all! In keeping with the last two years, I've compiled 24 fics I really enjoyed this year! I'd love to see your year-end lists, too!

(Usual disclaimer goes here that you can check out the lists from 2022 and 2023 here and here, respectively, you can check out my 2024 hprecfest recs here, I will not rec fics I've previously rec'd, and this is in no way a comprehensive list of my favorite fics of the year).

*deep breath in* okay, now that the housekeeping is out of the way...

ONESHOTS thrice defied by @abihastastybeans Fixed Luck by @annabtg calliope calling by @apalapucian when it counted by @cascader back to the old house by @clare-with-no-i under the influence of loss by @gigglesandfreckles-hp the falcon and the squid by @jfleamont i'll marry you after this by @myuntoldstory Hell is Empty (And All The Devils Are Here) by @nodirectionhome-ao3 The Librarian of Hogsmeade Village by @ohmygodshesinsane Hogwarts 1979 by @sunshinemarauder Never Far Behind (Those Livid Knuckles) by @uncertainwallflower Force Majeure by @yallthemwitches

MULTICHAPTER The Clean Up Crew* by @alittlebitofeverything23 Spitting Image by @charmsandtealeaves no place like home* by @emeralddoeadeer The Couch Chronicles by @jamesunderwater earth after rain by @juniperpyre guilty as sin by ohevans Quest for Camelot by @petals2fish Murder on the Dancefloor by @possessingtheproperspirit The James Potter Affair* by @sophie-hatter-jenkins flower & thorn* by @thequibblah

SERIES Slytherin!Sirius Black AU* by @arliedraws

*denotes a WIP

BONUS! Shout-out to these previous recs that wrapped up in 2024! theogony by clare-with-no-i The Last Enemy: Dark Marks (TLE2) by @chdarling The Shout Out To My Ex series by @wearingaberetinparis And an additional shout-out to Potter Exposed by @formerlympp, which provided wonderful distraction from my wisdom teeth surgery, and is no longer available (it still deserves love!) Edit 3/14/25: Potter Exposed is back online so I've hyperlinked above!

This year I read 201 fics by 85 authors, so I did a bit less reading than last year (I suppose working on 2 multichap fics will do that to you). But I'm sticking to 24 fics for the ~vibes~. Feel free to drop a 📖 in my inbox and I'll rec another fic that doesn't appear here!

Please tag me if you share your year-end fic rec lists! I'd love to see them!