#i am filled with utter disgust

[an-architect-of-words]

My head is hurting after Secret History inner ramblings.

I think the one thing that’s difficult about this book is that EVERYTHING is a little true and a little false at the same time? It’s weird because sometimes I go to make a statement on something or post a thought, and I just can’t get the nuance right ever. All my opinions have a bit of a “but here’s where that thought ends” aspect to them. Here’s what I mean:

1. Henry and Camilla: I think someone kind of disliked something I said once when I said I was skeptical about Henry’s relationship with Camilla. And I tbh had strongly worded my thoughts. But here’s the deal. Henry, based on what we know of him, likely doesn’t have a good concept of love. And Camilla feels safe with Henry. Due to this, I think Henry views Camilla as something to protect. He sees her as aesthetic and wants to pursue her because he has clearly been taught by Julian and his own long history with many books and few human interactions that what’s important is what is ethereal and arcane and pretty. Camilla is going through a lot with Charles and she knows all the other guys are, in varying ways, terrified of Henry. Bunny was a jerk but his obsessive attitude toward Henry was indicative of his fear and his needing to know what Henry is up to, an attitude which makes increasing sense as the novel progresses. Richard has slips about Henry all the time but the most memorable to me is when he almost says “What if it’s Henry” instead of “What if it’s the cops?” when Charles knocks. Charles is so blatantly frightened of Henry and for good reason: Charles never seemed to want to kill Bunny, was was pulled into the murder (but it was still his choice), not taken seriously when he tried to lament Bunny, and then put into a situation where he had to just keep talking about it while minding his every word. Then there were strong indications Henry was trying to kill him. Camilla isn’t dumb. I’m sure she sees things that the guys see. She’s certainly disturbed when Henry made her douse herself in pig blood. But she allows Henry to have what he wants so she can be safe. 

Now, I don’t even think Camilla is wrong to make this choice. In fact, Richard’s attitude towards her decision was uncalled for. That said, we now have a relationship built on a man who is buried in fanciful ideas about things and a woman who is fully aware of everything wrong with him and just goes with it because she’s scared. But it’s weird because saying that this relationship is entirely destructive isn’t perfectly true either. It’s true for the above reasons. But I also see Henry and Camilla do having some semblance of a positive relationship too. He does treat her kindly and, whatever the reason, he does help her when she’s struggling with Charles. We’ve seen signs of Henry looking out for Camilla throughout the whole book. And, you know what? We even get tiny indications that she really believes in some of his nonsense. But, by the end of the novel, I was so skeptical of anything Henry did and so wary of how emotionless he’d gotten that I couldn’t really believe he wouldn’t ever hurt her (my goodness, this guy could read some ancient myth arguing that some random, toxic action is somehow akin to love and he’d take it seriously). But bottom line is that this isn’t an easy thing for me to voice my opinion on without immediately disagreeing with my own wording. 

2. Francis being untruthful about Charles. When I say Francis’s story about Charles isn’t correct, I mean that there are indications Francis is twisting facts. I’m saying it makes too much sense that he bore blame too, based on what we know of Francis. But what I’m not saying is that he spoke nothing but lies. This book is about illusions and things hidden in plain sight. Francis saying that Charles and Camilla being pretty makes it hard to see that they aren’t good does ring very true. It’s similar to Richard’s statement that he has a tendency to view interesting people as good (he says this about Julian). I do believe Francis when he says that Charles, even Camilla in a more subtle or different way, is jealous and manipulative— and the twins have been that way for a long time. We can pick that up ourselves throughout the novel. And he’s probably right that the bacchanal brought the worst of it to light. He definitely tries to tell Richard about something awful Charles did that night and can’t bring himself to. 

That said, Francis is also clearly framed as being illusionary himself. He’s compared twice to a fox in this scene. His reason for why Charles won’t admit to having been with him is flimsy. It’s an odd understanding of Charles who won’t speak of his drinking when personal details aren’t involved. And alcohol was involved every time Francis and Charles hooked up (in the story about the first time it happened, when they left Richard’s room, and at the funeral). Francis even admits that was a driving factor in their relationship. At the Corcorans’, we also see Charles say Francis attempted to coerce him into something only for Francis to cut him off. So it’s just that, knowing alcohol was involved, knowing Francis has tried to take advantage of an inebriated Richard, and knowing that he’s trying to cover up truths… it just doesn’t give us a picture of a Francis who was entirely innocent in the matter and who didn’t at all take advantage of his friend. 

A few things can exist at once because I think Francis’s big deal is being something of a doormat. He balks in the face of anything scary from doctor visits to certain social interactions; he goes along with others. He can be sharp-tongued and he does have strong desires, but he is often scared back into place. He clearly wants something with Richard (he goes for it twice) but won’t attempt to push when Richard is lucid. He asks permission, is denied, and accepts it (good!). But when Richard is vulnerable, Francis is more aggressive (fair point to Francis: this is not all the time. He’s seen Richard drunk and sleeping and been normal about it). Francis does get pushed back into place by Charles as well. Camilla states this when she tells Richard why she can’t move in with Francis rather than Henry. We also see Francis mock Richard’s speech patterns then immediately become really meek and apologetic when he sees that Richard is actually angry. And I’m kind of wondering if Francis knew all about Henry potentially setting up Richard and kept his mouth shut while Charles perhaps attempted to save Richard by taking him to the bar the night the police came. I say this because Charles says he knows Francis would betray him to Henry. And this moment seems more that just drunken rambles, based on Francis’s reaction. Francis’s suicide note even apologizes for NOT doing things. This fear does seem likely to cause him to merely take advantage of people when they’re vulnerable, to push until bitten back. (By the way, I think the alcohol he has during the funeral bathroom moment was purchased by Charles when he went out since it was in the glove compartment? The rest is vague but, to me, Francis is taking advantage of a weakness. To be honest, I like to think even Francis realized this. He payed Charles’s rehab bill. I think he knew that, in encouraging the drinking or, at least not stopping it, that he’d failed Charles— and Camilla who was directly affected.) 

This is a lot of things. So I think me having moments of “OK FRANCIS WAS CLEARLY MANIPULATIVE HERE” is not the same as me saying he was totally wrong. Just like me saying he’s likely right about Charles is not me saying Charles wasn’t a vulnerable and mistreated party too. 

3. Bunny being more morally aware than others. This one is the TRICKIEST. Because Bunny is really bad too. He’s such an awful friend. But my big-hard-to-capture-thought is that I do not believe Henry when he says Bunny’s reaction to the farmer-slaying was purely feelings of being left out. And I think Bunny was aware of and disturbed by the things going on in the group in a way the others largely weren’t. Richard says Bunny was a bloodhound for insecurities and that’s true. But I also got the sense that he was actually seeing his friends flaws and going, in some deep part of himself, “wait, this is really bad.” Julian mistakes Bunny’s behavior for a possible religious conversion. I think that’s very close— it was a moral crisis, I believe. But Julian is onto the same principle which doesn’t align with what Henry said (that it wasn’t at all moral). Furthermore, I think Henry (and Francis) was wrong about Bunny’s feelings of jealousy and hatred towards Richard. Again, this line between partially true and partially false is light because maybe Henry did note real feelings of inferiority (Bunny did harass Richard despite him not being at the bacchanal and there’s that mean moment where he tells Charles to give Richard a drink without washing the cup). But this is all thrown in to question with Bunny’s letter to Julian which doesn’t mention Richard at all. I just wonder if Bunny, despite all his rampant -isms and blatant mistreatment of his friends, was the first to wake up. And he was killed for it. Similarly, Charles starts to wake up in ways. He, in the midst of all his own crimes, was getting impacted by having helped take a life. And Henry’s reaction repeated itself; he went to silence this person who, within all his madness, was right about something. AND YET AGAIN. This is only true in some manners because Henry was also thinking of Camilla.

Revisiting my whole thesis: It’s like anything I could possibly say about this book has limits and other considerations. Many things are true to a point and false at a level. So I look back at every post I make and am like “well I still think I was right, but I wish I could shine a flashlight on every little detail and exception.” I just want to be fair about everything all the time!

[aajjks]

loser ≠ lover (m)

synopsis. He wants you so much, even if you’ll destroy him, because he’d let you.

fem reader x yandere oc.

warnings. yándere, öbsession, masochïstic tendencies, mentions of physical, emotional abûse, unhealthy thöughts, èxtreme obsession, obsessive thoughts.

note. MY FIRST OC!!!!! UHHH IM SO SO NERVOUS BECAUSE IM NEW TO THIS KIND OF THING BUT I HOPE YOU ALL WILL GIVE HIM A CHANCE. HES ALL YOURS TO INTERACT WITH, send fanart?!?? Please I’d be honoured, send asks talk to him!!!! 😭💌

second instalment x

loser boy who worships the ground you walk on!

Who licks off the dirt that trails off your shoes as you walk down the school hallway.

loser boy who is so obsessed with you that he can’t breathe if he can’t get a look at you.

loser boy who can’t feel anything but love for you, passion that pumps so hard in his veins for you, who can’t say a word without stuttering except your name.

Loser boy who follows you around like a lost puppy, who doesn’t care if your ‘friends’ cuss at him, if you call him a dirty dog.

At least you’re talking to him! God, he’s so lucky!

“Goodness fuck off! You sicko! How’d you find my address!?” You spit at him, your eyes filled so beautifully with hues of disgust, your luscious lips curled up in annoyance. He smiles so brightly at you, God, you’re so beautiful.

“O-Oh please! C-Call me more names! P-Please!” He begs, on his knees, his raven hair falling on his grey orbs, his lashes wet as he begs you.

You feel embarrassed, He notices, yet he feels his heart burning from the need to hear you insult him.

It’s been too long.

And that’s why he’s here, at 1 am right infront of your door, begging.

“Fucking masochist! You’re so disgusting! FUCK OFF.” The way your shoe hits his jaw, makes him moan out your name like a prayer.

You groan in anger, he gets up again, you struggle against him, your nails scratch him, the burn feels euphoric, he missed you so bad.

“You don’t understand huh?!? LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” You try to get away from him, the boy doesn’t let you, instead he grabs your legs, wrapping his arms around them, “n-no please! take me back please!” He’s sobbing.

Yet his heart loves the thrill of your resistance, it turns him on so much, his pants feel so painfully tight, “NEVER! You ARE NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING! You are of no use to me anymore!” you keep insulting him, it makes him feel so relieved.

You hadn’t been talking to him for so long, he almost went insane without you.

“Y-YN p-please kiss me!” He stands up, “p-please!”

“FUCK OFF Ezekiel!” His mind blurs.

His tongue lulls out and he whimpers as you finally utter his name out, it sounds so good, so erotic from your mouth, His name was made for you to call out.

He is so obsessed with you.

“S-Say it again… p-please!” Ezekiel stands up, his knees wobble, the stormy grey eyes are full of lust, craziness.

You roll your eyes at him again, it only makes him so much more excited, he loves your rejection so much, he always has.

Because it’s a unique bond between you, you treat him special, he knows.

“fuck off weirdo.” Ezekiel doesn’t say anything but pushes you against the door of your house, “YN…” he brings his face so much closer to you, he feels scared yet thrilled.

You’re so unpredictable, it makes him shake with anticipation.

“P-Please don’t leave- don’t-don’t abandon me! I-I’m sorry I disappointed you b-but he deserved it.” You raise your eyebrows at his ‘apology’

“No. Get away from me you sick freak! You had no right to beat him up like that, who are you huh? My boyfriend? Please…” you scoff, “you’re nothing to me Ezekiel, absolutely nothing.” You spit again at him.

God.

“You’re just a pathetic man who gets me off. You’re just a pastime you get that?” You point your finger to his chest.

“Y’know you’re lucky you have a big dick and a pretty face. sometimes you’re obedient too and you make good punching bag.” You laugh so cruelly, venom drips in your words.

Yet he takes it as words of praise.

“You’re like my dog.”

Yes he is.

“S-So please just take me back? I-I’m so sorry YN…. Please punish me but not like this! H-HIT ME.” He takes your hand and swipes it hard across his cheek.

You gasp in surprise, Ezekiel looks at you with pure desperation. “Please! I-I can’t live without you,” he bites his lower lip, the mole under his lips becomes more evident.

“I-I can please you! I can help you get off! Please let me- give me a chance- I’ll make you cum as many times you’ll want to- PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION!”

“P-Please!”

[iveseenstrangerthings]

more than friends - a steve harrington imagine

summary: a real fluffy imagine after writing angst for the past few, best friends turns to lovers. Reader is teased about their close relationship with Steve by a jocky asshole, so Steve decides to do something about his feelings. both are obviously pining for each other but just don’t know how to do something about it!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: really cringe asshole male talk about female character (inappropriate sexual remarks) & swearing.

thanks @urfriendlywriter for the friends to lovers confession prompt!!! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alrighty class, notes for the biological study are on the blackboard, you have the full hour to complete this. I expect everyone to have the practical experiment done, and their write up started by the bell. Am I clear with that?” Mrs Peters stands with her hands on top of her blooming belly, slightly leaning against the desk with her hip. 

The class grumble a response and Mrs Peters smiles, nodding. “I’ll float until my ankles hurt,” She starts, hinting to her swollen pregnancy ankles and gets a murmur of laughter in response, “Off you go!” 

The equipment is already lain out for you and your lab partner, Brad. He stands awfully close to you as you sort through the different brightly coloured flowers scattering your table. You have a feeling you’ll end up doing all the work, with Brad copying everything down in the last ten minutes. 

“Jheez.” Brad whistles under his breath as the class volume raises to the sound of students discussing their impending flower dissections. “Wonder who the lucky bastard is that gets a ride on her.” You turn to face him, your insides screaming with utter disgust, he motions his head to Mrs Peters and slides his eyebrows up and down. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say to the white peony that you’ve set out for your first dissection. Brad hears, and just laughs to you. He takes that as a joke, as a compliment, and it disgusts you even more. “Can you start to take the petals off those,” your eyes flit to the five other flowers laid out in a neat, colourful row, “and make notes on their type of pollination?” A tinge of annoyance already lacing your voice.

“Their type’ah what now?” He sits picking the petals off roughly, not following any of Mrs Peters prior instructions, and that fills you with rage. As someone who excels in school and wants to do well, your lab partner pairing feels like someone, somewhere, wants to torture you. You realise that it’s going to be easier, and less painful, if you just do it. Just crack on with the lab practical and let Brad sit there and sniff the pretty petals. “Can you get high on this stuff?” He says, his nose dotted with a tiny bit of pollen from where he dug it into the centre of the flower.

You widen your eyes and nod enthusiastically, “High as a kite.” You confirm, sarcastically, and his eyes glow back at you. Jesus...

Time passes and you’re in your element, investigating stigmas and anthers up close under the microscope, adding to your quick diagrams of each part with brief, but helpful, notes. Ones that Brad will no doubt copy from in due course. He’s sitting, like an impatient child, folding and tearing the petals he picked off earlier. The only time he’s made an effort so far is when Mrs Peters made her rounds and he came to stand by you and ‘make notes’ on your observations, only to sit back down again and scribble in the margin of his notebook when she slunk back away.

“Harrington shown you a good time yet, huh?” Brad’s voice breaks the silence between the two of you and your cheeks flush a deep red as you squint through the lens of the microscope. A thick glob of saliva forms under your tongue which you swiftly swallow back. “Come on, we’re in biology... can we not discuss things like that?” 

You lift your head from the lens and look at him. His face is expectant, expectant of your response, hoping for a bite back, and he calmly crosses his arms over his chest. Your cheeks are still firing up, your vision goes slightly blurry for a short while as white-hot anger burns up inside you. After glaring at him for some time, you return to your position at the microscope.

Before you could realise, he’s bumping your arm with his and leaning down to speak to you, not even the beautifully intricate flower beneath you is giving you any sanity. “If he’s too much of a pussy to do it, let me show you what a good time is really like.” He’s so close you can feel his breath warm your ear and send shivers down your spine, feeling like it’s hitting every vertebrate on the way down. 

“Steve and I are just friends.” The more uninterested you seem, the more likely he is to give up on his pursuit and just shut the fuck up. Or so you’re hoping. 

He scoffs, “Pfft.” His tongue creeps from his mouth and licks his bottom lip, “Friends with benefits? C’mon. I ain’t stupid.” He goes quiet then you feel a soft tickle forming down your spine, Brad’s finger. Then, his breath back in your ear, “Bet he doesn’t know your sweet spots.” 

You shoot back from Brad, holding your hands up, like you’ve been scolded with a hot iron, “Okay. That’s it.” You charge from your station down to the front where Mrs Peters sits, grading papers. “Mrs Peters.” You say, quietly now that you’re down here, not wanting anyone to hear your conversation. In your hands, your fingers tremble slightly with the adrenaline of the conversation you just had. “I would like to request a change of lab partner.” Your voice comes out strong and confident but your face paints a different picture. “Please.”

Mrs Peters looks behind you, at your now half empty desk, and to Brad who sits and moves stems and petals around the table into a phallic shape. He grabs the attention of the pair in front, who seem displeased at the childish distraction. She raises her brows in his direction, when he meets her glare, his cheeks flush a light pink, and he rearranges the flowers into the muddle they were before. 

“Say no more, sweet pea.” She says with an exasperated sigh, shuffling papers to pull out her seating plan. You look over as she pulls a pencil from her pot and pats her lip with the eraser. “Eleanor’s in need of a partner.” She says, tracing over the spare seat on her plan, “That sound good?” Mrs Peter’s kind eyes meet your own and she offers you a sincere smile. 

“That would be great.” Your heart leaps with relief. 

“Finish up there for today, you can move on Monday. He can stay with me.” As you make your way back to your desk, Mrs Peters calls out from hers. “Brad Norton.” The class falls silent, her usual sing-song voice has turned cold, stern. “I don’t recall asking you to make penises with your pretty little flowers. You can stay and do your lab work, tho-rough-ly,” she sounds out each syllable in the word, the veins in her neck protruding with distaste at her student, “with me in detention.” 

The classroom remains quiet as you find your seat and complete your notes. “Bitch.” Is muttered venomously from next to you and you’re unsure if it’s directed at you or Mrs Peters, but you’re past caring. 

                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦

On Friday nights, you and Steve like to walk from school to the diner which flickers welcomingly in the dark winter light as you approach. As usual, you take to your table which is located in the corner of the diner. It is cosy. You love coming here, especially with Steve. It’s a time that you can spend together, just the two of you, have a burger, have a milkshake, and just catch up on the week. You adore your Friday nights with Steve. 

Now, you’re leaning against the comfy backing of the squishy diner chair, the fabric crinkling awkwardly as you get yourself comfortable. You’ve both cleared your plates, smears of ketchup and dustings of salt lie in remnant of what was two full plates of burgers and fries. Gluttonously, as your stomach feels heavy with the greasy food that you adore, you continue to gulp your milkshake. 

“I heard Brad Norton got a detention today in bio.” Steve finishes dragging his last fry through a dreg of ketchup before placing it into his mouth, laughing at the new conversation topic. You simply roll your eyes and let the milkshake freeze your back teeth before swallowing. 

“He’s an asshole.” You retort, swirling your straw around in the thick, creamy drink. Your eyes stay fixed on the pink substance in your glass, watching the small particles of ice slowly melt the more you stir. “I’ve switched partners, finally. I asked Mrs Peters to move.” 

“Really?” 

You nod, your brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah. I don’t fancy sitting and getting creepy back strokes from him for the rest of the year.” 

Steve sits back against the seat, “He did what?” A surge of jealousy, and anger flits through him and you can see it flash across his eyes, a change so subtle you feel proud you noticed. He knows that would’ve made you uncomfortable and he knows where Brad usually goes on a Friday night, he runs over the possibility of going there and beating the shit out of him, but quickly decides that would be a terrible idea. “Is that what he got his detention for? Being a creep?” 

You laugh slightly, “Close.” You take another gulp of milkshake. “He was making dicks out of the flowers.” You realise you’re talking to your milkshake and not to Steve, he’s noticed too and realises there’s more to this story than you’re letting on. He knows you too well. 

“You sure that’s all he did?” He knows not to push things with you, but the feeling is bubbling up inside of him. 

You toy with the idea for a moment. Tell Steve, let Steve get angry and potentially make your favourite night of the week awkward? Or, don’t tell Steve, enjoy each other’s company and go from there? 

You’ve both been close to sharing your feelings with each other on multiple occasions, sat in this very booth. The diner must have an aura that allows you to become content with your feelings with one another, almost becoming more than friends. The diner is where you’ve shared feelings, ranted about shitty weeks, shitty dates; cried into milkshakes over the clear downfall of Hawkins. But it’s also where you’ve brushed hands as you reach for napkins, letting your fingertips linger a little longer than is necessary. It’s where you’ve held eye contact as you talk about things that interest you, the other listening with intent adoration. His eyes glisten as he listens to you discuss another biological theory that you love talking about with him, his lips curling as he listens intently and marvels at your passion and drive for science. You return the active listening as he discusses the trips to the Upside Down, watch little pieces of him break apart as he cracks open his memories of things he tries so hard to supress, but keep creeping back into his consciousness. 

So, with all that in mind, you decide to tell him. “He quizzed me on whether you show me a good time.” You blurt out, placing your milkshake down and folding your arms onto the table. “said he would show me a good time, said he knew my sweet spots. Basically, he spent the lesson trying to get into my pants.” 

His face is a picture of disgust, his eyebrows furrowing so deep you think they’ll knit together. “I promise you; he is one of a kind.” He holds his hands up in defence, “We are not all sex crazed lunatics who like making people feel uncomfortable.” His features soften and he looks over to you, taking in your features as he likes to here. They look softer in the glow of the luminous light that hangs above their window, the streetlights casting a yellow tinge into the corner where you sit tucked away. “I’m sorry he made you feel like that.” His voice is sincere.

You shake it off with a whip of a hand, “Shall we get out of here?” 

He nods, leaving the money on the table. “Come back to mine? We can watch a movie.” 

As you stand to straighten yourself up, you smile back at him warmly, nodding gently at his offer. 

                                                         ✦ ✦ ✦

Warm waves of air circulate out of the heater placed by your feet as you sit in Steve’s basement on the couch, watching a new film Steve rented out. You haven’t really been paying attention, you’ve been more interested in gradually moving your limbs inch by inch closer to Steve’s, your breath hitching as you feel him doing the same. Soon enough, you’re sat with your arms pressed against one another and your leg is resting comfortably against his. 

“Can’t stop thinking about what that asshole said to you.” His voice sounds weird after not talking for so long, the only sound being the grumbling heater and the soundtrack of the film playing out in front of you.

You rub his arm gently, sighing, “Stop thinking about it Steve, he’s not worth it.” 

“No, I know.” He’s quiet for a while again, the flickers of vibrant colours on the screen lighting up his features and your eyes travel around them all. He feels your eyes on him and leans to pause the TV, the sudden cut of sound making the room feel too quiet. Your breathing slows, waiting for him to start the conversation again. Sheepishly, you slowly pull your hand from his arm, suddenly feeling awkward having left it there for so long. He turns his body so he’s facing you and you scoot back a touch, propping your arm up on the back of the couch and leaning your head against your palm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe delicately, you can tell he has something whirlpooling in his mind. 

He shakes his head, smiling coyly. “Just thinking.” 

“About...” Your hands tumble over one another, hinting for him to go on. 

“You.” His bluntness makes your stomach squeeze tight, as if you’ve just dropped from one of those free-fall rides at the amusement park. His face remains unchanged, his eyes studying yours. “Thinking about you.” 

Slowly, you take a deep breath in. Unaware you were holding it in the first place. “Why me?” Annoyingly, your voice comes out as quiet as the hum of the heater, almost inaudible to someone who wasn’t trained in on the conversation. Suddenly the room feels warm, and you realise this could be the time to have the conversation you’ve been longing to have.

“’Cause I think about you all the time.”

You’d hoped all this time that he does just that.

And he does, he thinks of you when you aren’t there, when he’s lonely, when he feels sad, when he lies awake at night wishing he could turn over and feel the warmth of your skin against this. Wishing he could spend the night with you in a blur of heavy breathing, lustful kisses and soft moans. Wishing he could tell you how much you mean to him afterwards, holding you close whilst you both catch your breath and settle into the sheets in a dream-like state. He’s realising now how close he is to having all of this. To having you. If you want him, that is. 

“I know you feel what I feel.” His voice is low and his hand travels to rest just in between the two of you, like he wanted to commit to holding you but got scared half-way and changed his mind. 

A speckle of heat rests on your cheeks. “What is it that you feel?” Again, your voice is quiet, and you feel the pulse thick and fast, the heat rising up your neck from your chest. 

He clears his throat. “I know we both enjoy the time we spend together, as friends. But I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Silence settles over the pair of you, but you know that he’s not done yet, so you wait patiently for him to continue. “You make me feel so comfortable and you always know how to cheer me up, when to give me space, when to distract me from whatever’s going on...”

Hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the tingling sensation of adrenaline courses through your body. He continues, “I hate the fact that even assholes like Brad know there is something between us.” He sighs softly but carries on, “The fact that we haven’t even done as much as discussed how we feel, yet he’s happy to make degrading sexual comments to you about us.” 

You nod along in agreement. “I know.” Suddenly, your whole body feels drawn to him and you slide back along the couch, shuffling down into his side and placing your head in the crook of his neck, resting your arm over his stomach. This feels right, you think to yourself happily. “I love spending time with you, too. I have loved growing close to you these past few months and I-”

He lets his arm fall around your shoulders and he cuts you off, “Wait.” He insists as you feel his other hand come to rest gently against your neck, his thumb resting lightly against your jaw. “Look at me when you say it.” With his hand still resting on your neck, he gradually guides your face up so that it’s inches away from his own. His eyes travelling lazily over your features he’s grown to know so well before locking in with your own. 

Inside your chest, your heart is hammering wildly. Never have you been this close. Never this intimate. “I want to be with you, Steve.” You quietly admit, although it’s not much of a shocker. A smile forms on his lips, which have now moved ever so close to your own. Impatient and running on adrenaline, you close the gap between the pair of you and bring your lips together. His hand stays firmly on your neck, his fingertips gradually gripping the hair at the nape of your neck as your fist grasps his t-shirt as the kiss intensifies. 

The months of longing are finally coming to a head here and now as you are both desperate for each other. Not just in a sexual longing, but an emotional and physical intimacy longing, too. You can feel yourself getting lulled further into the kiss as his tongue searches for your own. 

After a few moments have passed, you both pull away gently, chests slightly heaving as you both work to catch some of your breath back. You rest your forehead against his and brush your nose past his, moving back to give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What do you say then?” You can see the happiness radiating across his face, the creases by his eyes and the soft pink glow gives it all away. His thumb traces across your cheek, “You wanna give us a shot?” He says.

Nodding, you reflect the same happiness glow that Steven is portraying. “I wanna give us the best shot.” 

Satisfied, he takes his hand back from your face and you feel how hot your cheek has been under his touch. He holds you close to him as he reaches back down to play the movie. A couple minutes later, he clears his throat. “And, if ‘Brad’” He uses air-quotes around his name, “Or any of his asshole friends wanna make any comments to you again, I’ll drop those motherfuckers.” He point blank says as his eyes follow along with the scene playing out in the movie before you.

The sudden threat from Steve brings a laugh out from you and it fills the room. Your shoulders shake as your laugh intensifies; he gestures his hands towards the TV. “Hey, do you mind keeping it down? Trying to watch a movie here.” He tuts and shakes his head playfully before resting it on top of your own, tracing his fingertips over your arm so that tiny goosebumps raise on your skin. A couple of minutes later, you find your breathing rising and falling at the same time as Steve’s, your eyes fall softly closed as you’re lulled into a light sleep, cocooned under the blankets and Steve’s arms. 

[lottie150209]

TASK FORCE 141 x afab femreader, MDNI!!!

Tags: simon riley x reader, ghost x reader, call of duty, cod mw2, simon ghost riley, cod x reader, cod smut, kyle gaz garrick mw2, kyle gaz garrick x reader, gaz mw2, gaz cod, call of duty smut, john price, price cod, john price smut, soap mactavish, john soap mactavish, soap cod, soap smut

cw: topics of you cheating on Simon, slight non consent from Price, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), four men on one woman, slight degradation, humiliation topics, choking kink, underwear sniffing/ licking kink, orgasm denial, aggressive attitude, breast play, teasing.

A/N: Sorry i’ve been gone so long I’ve kind of found it hard to find the effort to write!! I have some more ideas coming though and slowly but surely i’m pushing through this. Apologies if this short story may seem a little rushed in places or confusing, I just felt I had to get it done and dusted so I probably isn’t the greatest thing ever!! I hope you enjoy though !! 🎀

You woke up on a dark wooden floor, skin burning from the cold and in nothing but your frilly pink knickers. Your back, brushed against the rough material of an old sofa and the smell of an unfamiliar place filled your nostrils.

Your head is pounding to the same hungover beat of the clubs music last night and finally, you open your eyes. Vision clearing up at the sight of a used condom sprawled out under a clear topped, oak-wooden coffee table.

Where the hell am I? Who’s apartment am I in?

Last night you and your boyfriend Simon had gotten into a heated argument over something minor. As minutes turned into hours of you two going forwards and backwards insulting each other you decided to leave. Slamming your apartment door and heading towards a club your friends were at. Which was now obviously a horrible decision.

A few drinks down and you were completely blacked out, needing something to release your anger, and from the sight of the shrivel up, cum covered latex, it was clear to anyone you found just that. You blinked blindly at the floor, trying to piece together everything and the reality of the situation hit you harshly.

Did I seriously fucking cheat on Simon?

Bile formed in your throat and a dark unsettling channeled through your stomach: watering your eyes and filling disgust and discomfort within yourself. Your nose stung with tears that threatened to spill but before you could even act, a dark figure hovered from above you. It’s shadow grabbing your phone from the table in-front of you.

Reflexively you shot up, taking your weak arms and covering your bare chest as you turn to face the figure, your mouth falling dry as a familiar set of dark eyes scanned your face.

Simon stood there dressed in his military uniform, mask on with his phone in one hand and yours in the other. His expression was unreadable but from what you can figure he must be immensely pissed. The door behind him had clearly been broken into and as you open your mouth to speak his phone beeps, signifying his and your phones are in the same location.

“Simon, Look! I’m so sorry! I don’t even know what happened!” You spat out, standing up to reach your inside out t-shirt and pulling it over your head. Everything felt faded and distorted like you were stuck in a nightmare. The silence between you two was a murderous storm of emotion and raindrops of tears began to fall onto your cheeks. Simon however didn’t utter a word, his face unreadable behind his mask. It was like he didn’t care about anything and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a horrible one.

It was like looking through a dead man’s eyes and for once you truly understood the meaning of “Ghost”.

“Please Simon Please! Let’s just go home and talk about it? I’m so sorry! I was drunk and out of my mind! I’m so fucking sorry Simon!” But nothing made him budge. He just kept staring at you, dark brown eyes that would visually kiss down the soft skin of your body, now showing no emotion, no affection and no care. Your words changed nothing about this situation but you knew that even before opening your mouth. No matter how much you plead and cry, nothing could be done. You seriously fucked up.

“Get your shit together. We’re fucking leavin’. ” He growled out, crimson coating every word as he turned his head to look at my scattered clothes. You didn’t question him and you instantly did as he said-fumbling for the rest of your things, slipping on shoes and wasting no time to grabbing your bag. He watched you as you did this, like he was silently judging every move you made.

As if you were a new person to him, a stranger he’d only just met.

After you dressed yourself, the two of you left the stranger’s apartment instantly. No goodbyes or apologies, leaving the poor unknown man alone in his shower. Footsteps followed you out onto the sidewalk and you slipped into Simons car. His aroma filled the air and eloped with the guilt and pain in your stomach.

Why was I so stupid? How could I have done that to him?

“Simon..” You started but you couldn’t finish. His eyes that were once watching the road now settled on your face. You shook your head almost confirming to yourself you couldn’t say anything else; his blank expression rose to the road again. The ride was silent and hurtful, the pain in your gut a knife stabbing you over and over with every slight bump in the road.

The car came to a holt as he parked outside. Without a word you leaped out and stomped up the moss covered stairs before slamming your front door open and barging inside.

It didn’t make any sense why he brought you home, surely he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me. He realised what I did right? Why didn’t he just leave me?

Simons hesitant footsteps followed behind you as he shut the door gently and walked over to you. Something else was off with him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mad at you but this time was fucking terrifying. His patiently calm body language and slow speed contradicted his furious demeanour and it goosebumps coated your arms.

Trying to keep it in but obviously failing you broke down in-front of him. Confused cries and helpless sobs cascades through your body and you felt the pain in almost every organ: your lungs, your stomach and heart. This is ridiculous, i’m not the one that should be hurting here.

Your hands started to shake, your vision blurring as tears uncontrollably fell. ‘Stop crying.’ you shouted at yourself it was no use. Your emotions spiralled out of control.

Simons hand cupped one of your cheeks, the rough and scarred skin on his fingers wiping tears away. You were reluctant to keep him so close to you after how badly you hurt him, but you didn’t want to risk making the situation any worse. It made no sense but you couldn’t help but sink into his warm palm. A kiss was planted against the same cheek he rubbed and Simons still dead eyes glared daggers into your sorrowful ones.

“Have a sleep on the couch. I’ll be back later.” He said in an almost whisper before walking out of the house, shutting the door and leaving you alone. For a moment your mind fell blank and weakly fell down on the couch.

A sharp pain in your neck that you didn’t feel before now ached and you realised how uncomfortably you slept before on that wooden floor. Your legs also ached but you decided not to focus on that since that could’ve been from last night and you wanted to forget it all. Even if it was absolutely impossible to you could at least try.

What should I do? What the fuck is even happening?

Still your hands trembled as more and more tears fell from your face, you took a deep breath. You’re crying because of something you’ve done- it was pathetic.

You had absolutely no right to cry, you hurt Simon and now there’s nothing you could do. His words hung around your head and suddenly your eyes felt heavy. He did want you to sleep so it was for the best you did that right? Even if it’s just for ten minutes. Plus it would probably help my head clear and we could tackle this issue later. Together.

Shutting your damp eyes, your head hit the fluffy cushion on the sofa and you felt yourself drift off to sleep, thinking of Simon and regretting everything you’ve done. Hopefully when you wake up, he had cleared his mind a little, Hopefully when you wake up, he’ll take you back into his loving arms and hug you and tell you ‘It’s okay, we all make mistakes, doll.’ But you could only hope.

When your eyes opened, it didn’t take long for you to register it had been a bit more than just ten minutes. The apartment lights were still off from earlier and the sun from outside had set already, casting an orange hue through the windows. Your head ached from all the crying earlier and you suddenly remembered the situation you are in.

Holy fuck, I need to talk to Simon.

But before you could begin to get up off of the sofa your eyes flicked to your right. Catching a glance at the three random men staring at you.

Your throat ran dry and a shriek like gasp fell from your partially dry lips. One of them was sat on the other sofa, horizontal from you. His hair dark and in a sort of mohawk style, his face had a little bit of stubble on his chin and his eyes flashed away from yours back to the others.

Another guys sat sprawled out on the armchair. His gaze was much harsher and more intense than the others. It was like he was trying to see through you, like he was some king looking down on his dainty little servant. His breathing was visible and you took in how his chest rose and fell shakily.

And for the final guy, he stood between the couch and chair in-front of you. His arms folded across his broad chest and the faint remains of a smirk glued to his handsome face. He looked younger than the other too and you swallowed the saliva that was stuck in your throat. Pondering on what to say to them but a voice cut you off.

“So the cheat has finally chosen to wake up?” The man in the chair said, a deep chuckle slipping out matching the smugness in his eyes. You scanned their bodies again going by each and every one of them and finally it clicked who they were. They were Simons teammates. Simon had been begging for you to meet them, to introduce his only love to the people he trusted with his life. And now they are here, calling you a cheater. What a great first impression. Fighting the yawn that was yearning to leave your lips, you locked eyes with the man who was sat on your sofa.

“Simon isn’t here.. So you may as well come back tomorrow and check.” You muttered. Simon had told you earlier he’d be back and since they had clearly sat down to wait for him you figured he wasn’t home yet. You’d be lucky if he returned home at all actually. The overwhelming guilt from earlier flooded back through you, overpowering your thoughts yet again. You knew the sleep would make you forget temporarily but it was almost harder to swallow down your emotions for a second time. The guy that was sat on the chair stood up, clenching his knees with a deep sigh. He began to walk over to you, hunching over and his size intimidated you slightly; he was taller than you thought. Oceanic eyes pierced through yours, awakening some sort of emotion that made your stomach rattle uneasily.

Where is Simon? I hope he comes home soon.

“Let us introduce ourselves..” His dark gravelly voice spoke and his lip lifted up in a smirk as he itches closer to my face. “I’m Price, that’s Soap over there on that settee and that’s Gaz..” His head nodded in the various directions as he mentioned each name. You felt as your eyes indecisively flicked between each of them before focusing on the white ceiling like some nervous child. Price exhaled in amusement before turning to glance at the others and giving a short nod.

“You see my lovey, our boy Simon means an awful lot to us..” He began. His voice smooth however the huskiness added texture, like a mix of sandpaper and silk. Burning eyes left yours for a second and his blue pupils latched onto your lips. “And when he gets agitated with a girl,” Soap and Gaz walked towards us swiftly. Gaz positioned himself on Prices left while Soap took the right, finishing his friends sentence with a thick Scottish accent. “So do we.”

Slowly, you let your eyes shut for a minute, gut summersaulting and face a burning mess. Not only had you utterly ruined the relationship between you and Simon, you had now upset his friends. Although you knew it was horrible to think like that, but a part of you felt more intimidated by the fact his friends were angry with you. Simon had limits, he had boundaries that you was aware of. But this was the first time you’d met them. You had no idea what they could do to you and how far they’d take things. You sat there as the three men towered above you, with three pairs of eyes staring back at you. They wouldn’t do anything too bad, right?

“And when we get agitated, we don’t play nice. Do we?” His face turned to his sides directing the questions at the two by his sides. My heart throbbed all around my body in right places and wrong ones and a sense of dread fell down into my stomach. Simon was bound to pissed with you- absolutely furious even and here his friends are. Talking like this with you, in that tone. It could just be an innocent little encounter of them threatening me to not hurt Simon again.

But the way his voice teased out every word made it hard to believe that. You gulped thickly at what they could be insinuating, your head racing wildly with thoughts that you shouldn’t be having.

Your mouth widened to protest but Price cut me off, turning to the guy on his left, giving him a look as the other smirked. His legs danced on the spot to the left and right before he was facing me again, his hand rubbing his chin, fingers massaging his jaw. Your eyes furrowed and locked onto him. He was thinking about something, but what? And just like the universe was listening to your queries, he dove for my chin. Holding it up hard with his index finger and stroking your lips with his thumb. You could smell the tobacco on his breath as his eyes were locked onto your lips, staring deeply.

He scanned each and every little crack and he rubbed the flesh smiling to himself. His sight drifted back to you.

“You’re lips are stunning girl,” Almost on que, Soap came from behind him and hovered over you, threading his fingers through the waistband of your bottoms and dragging them down. What the hell? Your lips parted and Prices thumb fell slightly however before you could shrug him off his whole other hand covered your mouth, innocent blue eyes darkened and began to look more grey as a sinister half-smirk half-snarl forced upon his lips.

“I wanna see the other lips too.” Your breathing hitched and the fear on your face must have been visible as Gaz let out a laugh and Soap began threading your feet out of your bottoms. The heat on your cheeks had travelled down into your stomach and you just knew your eyes faltered for a moment. All thoughts dissipated when reality slipped back for a second. Simon, you had already hurt him. Imagine if he finds out about this, about his close friends stripping you down and teasing you. About his cheating lying slut of a woman had snuck behind his back and taken on not one but three of them. You couldn’t let his happen, You had to stop this.

Prices hand grabbed hold of your clothed sex, smirking in delight as the slick stuck to your panties, warmed his fingers. A hum left his lips while a gasped moan left yours. The same thumb from before circled your clothed clit, the one place that made you vulnerable. Soap and Gaz had both inched back forward, closing you in like a little box. Your focus glued on Prices actions. He was so clearly experienced, finding the clit so fast and circling it at the right speed. Not too slow but not fast. Your eyes fell shut again as it began to feel good, the sound of his voice opening them a little while later.

“Simon told me all about this little thing,” He pressed his finger into your clit almost like a button, the pressure was hard and for such a sensitive part of your body you whined.

“He told us all about how you like it. The way you don’t like going to fast and how slow is good but you don’t want it too take too long and spoil the moment. He spoke to us about how wet this little girl gets when being tended too. We all thought he was joking but fuck.” His apples adam bobbed in his throat as he swallowed the saliva stored up in his throat. The hunger in his eyes enough to make a man’s stomach growl. He was starving.

“Gaz, get her knickers off. I need to have a taste.” You twitched down there and your eyeballs nearly jumped out of their sockets. The thin fabric of your underwear slipping down your thighs before you could even process what he said. Prices breathing hitched as he locked eyes with your pussy. Unable to look at him out of embarrassment you lifted your eyes back to Gaz to catch what him and Soap were doing.

Soaps hands crashed together as my now screwed up underwear few from Gaz to Soap like it was some basketball. ‘How lovely’ you thought. Shockingly though, Soap caught it with no ease, shaking it out and holding it from the top to get a better look. Prices finger touched against your bare pussy and he held it there for a few seconds, his eyes watching as you looked at Soap no doubt.

Soft blue eyes, unlike Prices store into yours as he brought your panties to his face and placed the damped crotch to his nose. Taking a slow and long sniff and savouring your erotic scent. For a moment you swore you watched his eyes roll back and a twitch come from the bulge in his military uniform. His tongue quickly gushed out his mouth, licking a line from where you’d worn them, tasting my flavourful nectar and grunting. You looked away too embarrassed at this point and a groan fell from his mouth.

“Little beamer tastes great Cap, go on ‘ave a taste.” Your cheeks flared hotter and you tried to squeeze your thighs together preventing him but he caught you before. Spreading you wide open and putting you on display. All of their eyes were locked onto your aching slit and you felt the heat burn down your neck. Beard hairs tickled your inner thighs and a warm tongue swiped down you. Shivering you felt how wet and smooth his tongue was on your clit and he began to worship you, taking the focus away from your embarrassment to your pleasure. His lips slapped against your flaps and you cursed yourself mentally, knowing you was probably soaking his beard. You squeezed your eyes shut and let yourself relax as you soaked in deeper and deeper. He ate you like a mad man and you were lost in lust.

It felt like hours before you began to get close and the thought of what the other two were doing crossed your mind. You looked up to find both Soap and Gaz shirtless, their scars and scratches visible and showing off, making there already sexy body even hotter. Price began to growl into you and you let out a cry feeling close. Your pussy throbbed harder and harder and you felt it in your throat. You couldn’t stop your legs as they began to shake. You were going to cum, you were about to fucking cum. But then it all faded.

Price drug his tongue away, a clear string of spit, cum or whatever joint his beard to you. His breath was heavy and his delicate and gentle fingers from before fell down giving you a gentle slap on the clit. What, why? All he did was look down on you and he ripped off his military gauntlets and vest taking off the top below. Three half naked muscular men staring from infront of you while you sat there panting, pussy on show and drunk on the pleasure they were giving you. For a punishment, this wasn’t a hell of a lot bad. Your eyebrows furrowed as you locked your eyes back on Price.

“Why? Why did you do that? I was close.” Your tone spat out like a spoiled brat but he just smirked gesturing his arms to the two other gentlemen stood there. You had to hold yourself back from moaning as you realised what he was signifying.

“I wouldn’t dream of taking all the fun now, would I?” Soap and Gaz stepped forward, the same starving expression plastered on their face as Prices. The couch bobbed down as Soaps weight fell next to you and he leant over, tearing off your T-shirt, revealing your bare breasts. He must’ve been surprised you weren’t wearing a bra but he clearly wasn’t complaining. Snatching your left nipple in between his teeth and squeezing the other one harshly. Gaz on the other hand, knelt down between your legs but instead of tasting you, he slowly dragged his finger up and down between your folds.

“Has she been good enough Sir? Does she deserve my fingers?” He asked Price or so you assumed, Price just let out a laugh and Gaz licked his lips slowly eyeing up how we you were. Admiring as your clear juices lubricated his fingers.

“You’re absolutely soaking, my love. My finger would slip in like butter.” You whimpered as them dirty words left his lips. You needed either his mouth on you or his fingers deep inside, the pleasure was getting too much for you. You were too far gone now to back out.

You squeezed your mouth shut, lips quivering as you felt his finger prod your tight entrance. You cried out a loud moan as his finger rammed into you hard and started fucking you slowly.

Tears welled up in your drunken eyes as he abused your g spot over and over again and although it felt good, you didn’t feel your stomach knot or feel yourself get close again; It wouldn’t give you the orgasmic feeling you were chasing after. You were being used and after some time it began to burn a little. Through your shakes and sobs, Soaps teeth sunk into your breasts again, leaving hickeys on your soft skin. The roughness from the two men leaving you flustered. They were completely different from Price, they were savage. You winced and closed your eyes, the pain more prominent than the pleasure. Footsteps walked over to Gaz who was still between your thighs and Price placed his two hands on his shoulders.

“Slower Gaz, take your time and work her.” Gaz looked up at Price nodding and then he worked his fingers into you slowly, taking note at how your back arched and trembled at the feeling.

Fuck this was good. You found myself muttering words, a few pleases there and many yeses, it was embarrassing but you couldn’t even think. His hands continued to penetrate you slowly and softly, not harsh and not fast and it felt heavenly. His other hand slid onto your bladder and he weighted a bit of pressure onto it, making his fingers feel deeper and deeper inside. Your stomach twisted and you needed more. You wanted one of their cocks deep inside you but you were Simon’s.

You couldn’t be wanting that, You shouldn’t even be doing this. You’ve cheated on him once before and now, with his friends? You thought about stopping it but there was something about the way they tended to you that refrained me from that. The way they moved and caressed your body; you couldn’t pull away just yet. You needed to cum and you would wait here until they let you.

Fingers pumped into you faster as Gaz sped up matching your shaking breaths and moans. Every now and then he’d curl his fingers into you and cackle at how your legs shook before he ripped them out teasing you. Every muscle in your body felt tense and he worked you until the familiar feeing swarmed deep in your stomach. You found yourself slowly grinding against his fingers, desperate for that sensation to explode inside you and all three of them exchanged looks. Of course you were embarrassed but fuck it, in that moment you couldn’t help but be taken away by your wishes. The feeling inside you started to amplify and your whole body ran hot and suddenly you were coming to the edge. Your breathing stoped as you held your breath unconsciously but instead of exhaling as you came, you found yourself being chocked.

Thick, familiar fingers tightened the grip on your throat as you felt your orgasm travel through you. You couldn’t breathe, what the hell was he doing? And then you froze. The three men were still in front of you. Gaz had his fingers inside you and on your bladder, Soap was busy playing with your tits and Price was admiring your pretty, lewd face as his hands clenched around Gaz.

“Pull your fingers out Gaz.” Simon demanded, hands still squeezing your throat from behind the sofa. His voice melted into your ears like hot honey and your cum gushed out of your hole and coated the fingers inside. With a smirk, Gaz yanked them out and licked them clean, standing up and walking over to Price as they reached for their shirts. What?

Your head felt dizzy and just like earlier things went back to making no sense. Did Simon just walk in? You scanned the men’s faces again but they weren’t alarmed or worried, they were fine. Simon let go of you partially, his hands rubbing soothing circles down your back. The sweat on your forehead shone in the sunset and you turned around to face Simon in attempt explain but he cut you off, passionately kissing you. His tongue tickled against your lips and he pulled away with a demeaning smirk on his face, chocolate eyes drowning deeply in yours.

“If you wanted another man to toy with, jus’ let me know, yeah? I don’t mind if you want to switch things up for a bit. Just make sure it’s one of these fine gents.” You blinked and scanned his face to see if he was being sarcastic or trying to see if you’d take the bate but there was nothing but honesty. He planted another solemn kiss on your cheek and let out a chuckle, rubbing your turning to his teammates who were now fully dressed.

“I’ve got to say Simon, you’ve caught yourself a good lass.” Soap said with a chuckle, looking down at me with some remaining hunger. Prices turned to face us too, his nonchalant expression turned into another seductive grin. Simon just smiled to himself and looked back down at you. Your confused but relieved expression warming his heart and hardening his cock and he couldn’t look away.

“I know, she’s fuckin’ fun to please, ain’t ya?”

[malleusfucker]

hate sex: leona, malleus

warnings: nsfw/smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, degrading, hair-pulling/choking, gender-neutral reader

prompt: pretty self-explanatory 

word count: 1.3k

i’m writing about these two again? groundbreaking

*also - now i’m on break, i am thinking of doing a part two of this with other twst characters so request/message what characters i could possibly write about!*

leona

truly the blueprint for hate sex because this man is just a straight-up asshole, but at least he makes it entertaining. unlike that pompous lizard, leona is extremely straightforward and wants you to know EXACTLY how he feels. and if that means conveying those feelings by shoving your face into the mattress with a firm hand wrapped around your neck, then he’s definitely not afraid of doing so. he is certainly not polite when it comes to sex ever but sprinkle some pent-up hatred and disgust, and you’ve got yourself a very interesting situation. it becomes apparent how lethal the combination of having a short fuse and a lack of shame is when you realise that having hate sex with this man may happen anywhere, at any time. you never know whether the look he's giving you across the classroom is one of affection or complete disdain since leona's mood can be rather unpredictable. 

seeing him eye you up with knitted brows as you pass each other in the hallway feels like the calm before the storm. you can't help but wonder, "what the hell have i done this time?" feeling the heat practically radiate off of him every time you lock eyes from across the campus just further angers you with each glance. this man really did invent sexual tension, not even knowing what you did to make him so mad, and yet the writing is already on the wall with how obviously agitated you both are becoming with each other. unlike malleus, who wants a reason to fuck you so roughly, leona doesn’t need one. you simply standing there is enough to piss him off. it’s almost impressive the way leona somehow conjures up a reason to display such aggressive hatred towards you, to the point when you begin to resent him for the same reason, even though this "reason" is completely fruitless and is really simply a pretext for both of you to behave a bit more "animalistic" toward one another.

that sexual tension that was slowly bubbling throughout each class finally bursts as leona’s patience has long since vanished. one moment, you're going about your day normally. the next, you're being dragged into an empty classroom after hours, your stomach slamming against a desk before you can even identify the hand that's feverishly tugging at your clothes. leona’s so harsh. merely speaking vitriol and shame into your ear to make you feel like shit, and yet, you don’t feel an ounce of humiliation. your blood boils at leona's arrogance and his assumption that he can treat you this way out of the blue. minutes pass, and you suddenly feel him abruptly thrust into you, not even exchanging a word beforehand as he starts to shove and bite. insults, along with angered grunts and moans fill the room as leona starts to pick up his pace, ruthlessly fucking you from behind.

while your body continues shaking as a result of his selfishness, he doesn't even offer to help clean you up before retreating to his room. this asshole walks away with a look that borders on utter apathy, ignoring that he just spent the previous hour driving into you with the force you'd expect from someone with his level of athleticism. while it may be fun in the moment, the aftermath is anything but. at least when you’d usually have sex with leona, you’d be in the comfort of his bed, and though he probably won’t pamper you afterwards, he’d at least be gentle. now you’re alone in a classroom, sore and limp, flushed and unable to walk properly as your legs tremble. you can't stop thinking about how he sounded, how much of an asshole he was, and how, despite all he's done to you, there's a part of the experience that you secretly loved a little too much.

“god, you’re so fuckin’ annoying. stop being so fuckin’ loud and shut your mouth.”

malleus

malleus is not one for hate sex. he would never stoop so low as to let such irrational and fleeting feelings of brief frustration out on the one he loves, the one he feels the urge to protect and cherish. such actions would be appropriate for the more stubborn, selfish type - a certain lion, maybe. but not malleus. he knows better than to lash out at you because, dear god, the consequences would be more than just a scratch. he knows his capabilities and knows that even when he’s being gentle with you, you’re still crying - much to your embarrassment. so why? why does it feel so good seeing you under him, brows furrowed and teeth gritted - pulling at his hair as if you never liked him once in your life before. all the sweet moments and memories you cherished together going down the drain one by one, with each thrust wracking through you. it felt disgusting that both of you were enjoying this, though you weren’t exactly showing it.

leading up to such a scenario would be rare in malleus’ case. he’s extremely good at controlling his temper, even when he knows he’s being toyed with. he lets you entertain the idea for a while, knowing that in a couple of hours, you’re going to be begging for him to stop relentlessly fucking you. he rarely, if ever, gets really upset with you. that's why the thought of hate sex with him is both thrilling and terrifying all at once. hate sex with malleus would always be caused by a petty reason. an actual serious argument between you two would never lead to this because malleus would actually want to fix things properly rather fixing it with his dick. because it’s always over something so minor that just makes it more fun - there’s zero consequence, no repercussions that could change your relationship except waking up with a sore and bruised body.

on occasion, he appreciates allowing the relationship to have some sway. to always be treated like royalty by a perfect prince can get boring. he never thought he'd enjoy this so much, but he finds it strangely exhilarating to see you thrash around crazily while he fucks you hard against a wall as you cry obscenities at him. a prince should be cordial, never behaving in such a disgusting manner, but the way you display such visceral hatred towards him as you spit in his face simply makes his ego grow bigger (and something else too). such venomous loathing over something so minor - it sometimes feels like you both truly do hate each other. 

malleus really is a tease. even when you’re ripping at his horns with your legs wrapped around his waist - he’ll always have the upper hand. he wants you to have your moment, behaving as if you were a child having a tantrum before he finally has his turn. malleus, no matter the situation, will always have you believing your words affect him when really he’s just giggling to himself like the smug bastard he is. hate sex with this man is definitely not equal. those red scratches on his back don't phase him but merely make him laugh them off as though a kitten had clawed him. he’ll fuck into you so hard to the point of that fabricated hatred manifesting in reality. both your vision and body weakening as he pumps his seed into you, treating you like a disposable toy that he can use for whatever purpose he pleases.

because of that power imbalance, it just helps to aggravate you more. nobody has the right to take advantage of you in this way, tearing into your flesh with monstrous fangs and claws like it's nothing, drowning out your protests with each harsh thrust. he actually is an asshole when the situation fits him, boasting an air of superiority so pompous that he might as well be on the same footing with leona. instead of taunts and names, malleus expresses everything with his body. slamming his hips against yours with such violent power as he looks down at you with disgust and resentment on his face.

"you look so pitiful right now. it's nearly adorable."

[poppyseed1031]

Point Proven

Neteyam x Fem Reader!, Both 23-24!, Jealousy, possessiveness, Public smuttiness, smut

"Oh Tanto, thank you!" I squeaked in surprise when the male Navi reached around, holding a bundle of Yovo fruit in his hands. I turned, eyes widening in surprise when seeing how close he was standing, we were almost chest to chest. I took a step back as I took the bundle of delicious fruit and nodded my thanks again. "No worries, Y/N, would you like to sit and share one with me?" He asked, leaning towards me a bit with a smile. I shifted on my feet uncomfortably, "No than-" "No, She doesn't." A deep voice boomed behind the man, cutting me off. My ears perked at the familiar voice, and I was unable to stop the smile that spread over my face as I looked over Tantos shoulder and saw Neteyam walking towards us. "Neteyam, nice to see you." Tanto had straightened up, trying and failing to stand taller than Neteyam. "Why don't you let the beautiful lady answer me, hm? You are not the only one who has presented a courting offer to her." My ears flattened in shock at the statement, everyone in the clan knew Neteyam and I were together, and just weeks away from completely Tsaheylu, So this was just complete and utter disrespect. Neteyam growled but turned to me, motioning with his arms for me to respond with a small smirk on his face as he looked at me. I cleared my throat and stepped into Neteyam's side while fixing Taanto with my most aggressive stare. "I love NETEYAM. I am with NETEYAM. I will never consider another offer, nor have I ever thought about it, or wanted to; and everyone in the clan knows that, has known it for years. So you to stand here and disrespect my mate is disgusting and shameful." I hissed. I know in the back of my mind I sounded prissy and rude and I could have handled it more gracefully, but looking at the smug look on Neteyams face and the taken aback one on Tanto's, I couldn't find it in me to care. "But Y/N you've never even gave anyone else a chanc-" "That's where I'm gonna stop you. Leave her alone, or I'll be forced to physically deal with you. End of discussion." Neteyam interrupted him, putting his arm around my shoulder and steering me away from the whole conversation. We walked in silence for awhile, making our way through the village and then weaving through the trees of the forest. I snuck a peek at his face a few times, he was scrunching it up, like he just ate an extremely sour fruit and was wearing a scowl. Eventually we made it to a small clearing I recognized as one a few of the older, already trained warriors would use for practice. Neteyam pulled me behind a large group of trees that blocked us from view of the open space and pushed on my shoulders lightly until I sat down. "Are you mad at me?" I asked quietly as he sunk down in the grass right next to me, "Of course not! It's not your fault you're so fucking gorgeous, and sweet, and kind, and funny.." He trailed on with a big, fang filled smile. I felt my cheeks heat up and a blush spread across them at his words. I wondered why he let Tanto off so easily and wasn't upset, but I didn't want to push it so I nudged him lightly with a small giggle before leaning into a kiss. 

A few hours had passed and after spending them wrapped in each others arms we were still hidden behind the trees surrounding the clearing, and eclipse was starting to close in so I rose to my feet and held out my hand to Neteyam, "Oh yawne, we aren't leaving, the reason we came just got here." He whispered with a smirk. I quirked my eyebrow in question and he gently grabbed my chin and turned my head, pointing between the trees to a few feet away from us, where Tanto was standing and setting up a target for bow practice. "What?" I asked, still confused. Neteyam clicked his tongue and put his hands on my hips. With a light squeeze he pushed me gently against the trunk of one of the trees, pressing his body flush with mine. "I'm going to show him just who you belong to." He whispered while lightly dragging his lips down the skin of my neck. I shuddered involuntarily at the touch and tangled my hands into his hair as he moved his mouth down to the swell of my breasts, licking and nipping while pushing my covering out of the way and immediately rolling one of my nipples between his fingers, earning a gasp from me, "Be as loud as you want, paskalin. I want him to hear you." He said against my skin. I pressed my lips together and tossed my head back against the tree as his hand trailed down my body and to the heat between my legs. "Are you gonna be a good girl? Hmm? Gonna show him who you belong to?" Neteyam questioned quietly before lazily flicking his tongue over my nipple and then nipping the flesh. "Yes, Eywa yes." I whimpered, rutting my hips so his hand pressed harder against me. My slick was starting to soak my loincloth, and the heat pooling in my lower belly was becoming unbearable. "Good." He growled, dropping to his knees in front off me before hooking his fangs into the band of my loincloth and dragging is down my legs, all while looking up at me through predatory eyes. He just kneeled in front of me for a moment, taking in deep breathes and staring. I squirmed in discomfort and rubbed my thighs together, "Neteyam please." I whined. "I'm sorry baby, you just smell and look so. fucking. good." He grinned before diving in. He buried his nose in my folds and licked a long, wide stripe up before starting to lick small, presice circles with the tip of his tongue around my clit. "Oh!" I moaned out, tangled my hands in his hair and trying to push his face farther in. I resisted the urge to throw my head back, I wanted to watch as he stared up from between my legs. 

"My name. Say my name." He growled, the vibrations stimulating my clit in the perfect way. He continued licking and lapping, sucking and flicking my clit with his tongue until i was writhing and barely standing up right. He must have noticed because he grunted and gripped my hips tightly before lifting me up and positioning my legs over his shoulders so I was leaned against the tree, and my pussy was shoved right in his face as I dangled over him. He ate me liked a starved man, making me chant his name like it was the only word I've ever known and grind against his face. I wondered how Tanto hadn't heard and walked over to us yet for a minute, but then Neteyam pulled away, and the sight of him with my slick dripping from his chin and shining on his lips made all the thoughts in my head vanish. "Louder." He hissed, going back in before I could answer. I felt something prod at my entrance and then 2 of his fingers thrusted inside of me. "Oh Eywa, Neteyam!" I screamed as he pistoned into me, so roughly my body lurched against the bark of the tree, but the sting felt so good. He sucked on my clit harshly while drilling his fingers and then curling them and hitting that spongy sweet spot. My hips bucked into his mouth and my legs started to shake. My grip on his hair tightened as I arched my back, right on the edge of orgasm. "Cum baby, cum for me. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, I know your close." He said, then lightly grazed his fangs across my clit, pushing me into an eye rolling, toe curling orgasm. I came with a loud scream of his name and my body went completely rigid, legs locking around his head and toes digging into his back, his free hand dug into my waist to keep my steady as I rode out the waves of it on his fingers that were still thrusting inside me gently. When I came down from it, He pulled them out of me and wrapped both arms around my waist, allowing me to sink into the comfort of him on shaky legs. "That's my girl." He murmured, pulling me into a heated kiss. He licked my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to let him in, tasting myself on his tongue as it moved with mine. I moaned into the kiss and trailed my hand down his chiseled abdomen to the rock hard bulge    in his loincloth. "No no." He said as he pulled away, bending down to grab my loincloth and tie it around my waist. He chuckled when he saw my pout and hooked an arm around me, leading me out of the trees. "I'll fuck you all night as soon as we get to our hut, this was to prove a point." He whispered in my ear as we walked into the openness of the clearing. I looked away from him confused and was met with the site of Tanto.

He looked pale, his ears lowered completely to his skull, tail tucked, and eyes wide as he took us in. My tail and ears twitched in embarrassment, I would have thought he'd have left as soon as he heard us. 

"Hey man, out so late?" Neteyam asked with a condescending grin and a slap to the other mans shoulder as he lead me away towards the direction of the village. 

[arthenaa]

Requesting angsty moment with Ominis x f!reader that takes place after what happens with Sebastian and Solomon where Ominis and reader are distraught and guilty and angry but they end up having passionate sex bc they just need to be close to each other so badly in the midst of everything they lost

my saving grace — ominis x f!reader

summary: It happened. Sebastian has completely lost himself and you and Ominis have no idea how to deal with the repercussions. You fear that it will only take just enough for the both of you to lose yourselves but then you remember that the fact that you haven't is because you both still have each other.

content tags: 18+, explicit sexual content, characters are aged up and instead of the seb thing happening during their 5th year, it happens on their 7th, the reader uses she/her pronouns, angst, comfort, reader is ravenclaw, i havent reached this part of the game yet but i kinda know what happened but idk the details so it might be different from what actually happened in the game HAHA, you guys make love in seb's house, comfort sex, crying crying, self reflection, ominis is in love w you, p in v sex, cockwarming, heavy petting, foreplay, ominis fucks u while standing up and against the wall teehee, nasty stuff, you both miss sebastian, i am so sorry i love writing them as a poly relationship but i dont rlly imply anything of both of your relationships with seb, poor you and ominis :(( , kinda short tbh

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

It gives an unpleasant itch in your brain the longer you spend time in it. It's nothing like the ones you have with Poppy while tending to the beasts in class or the ones with Samantha in the comforts of the common room. Or maybe the ones you spend with Ominis and Sebastian in the undercroft.

Ominis and Sebastian.

Sebastian.

Right. That happened.

A few hours ago, you were in the Feldcroft catacombs, helping Sebastian in his quest to find a cure for Anne then next you're standing in shock as your very own best friend had cast an unforgivable on his uncle and he had chosen the worst out of the three. The Killing Curse.

It had happened all too fast. You barely caught a glimpse of the green ray of light heading toward Solomon. You watch as Anne fought off her twin, face filled with disgust and disbelief as she hauled her uncle's unmoving body from the floor. On her way out, she sent you a face of despair and desperation and you knew what she was telling you.

'Take care of him. For me.'

You're currently seated on the steps leading to the Sallow home. The silence was deafening not because of the night but because of the lack of people. No one was home.

You expected Anne to be here but she wasn't and you were close to ripping the strands of hair from your head because now you were worried for both twins. Sebastian was nowhere to be found after the whole fiasco. You remember the scared look on his face after he had done what he did, looking for some sort of semblance of comfort from you, that what he did was right and just because he was doing it for his sister. You thought maybe he had learned from the dangers of dark magic when you were in your 5th year but it seems as time passed, his quest for finding a cure for Anne overshadowed his morals as a person.

You let out a shakey sigh as you hug your legs closer to your chest. The cold breeze of the night provided some sort of comfort in the silence. Your chin rests on the top of your knees, observing the houses around you. It was close to midnight and so you suspected that the people inside were already in their slumber.

"It's late." A familiar voice breaks your reverie. You jump at the sudden presence before turning your head to the culprit.

"Ominis." You whisper, almost so quiet that Ominis barely hears it. The young Gaunt stands in the greenery surrounding the front yard of the Sallow home. You stare as he allows his wand to guide you to where you're seating and seats down beside you.

Somehow, the silence becomes tolerably better as you feel Ominis's warmth from your side. He bites his lip as he fiddles with his wand. "Did you find him?"

"No." You whisper back, eyes staring dead into the night. Another cold wind blows past you.

"Anne?"

"Nope." You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes, you try your best to hold them back. Ominis nods in understanding before he pulls his knees up and rests his hands, outstretched on his knees. His head drops as he lets out a sigh.

It's silent once again and then you finally realized why the silence feels too hard to bear. It's because this town that had always been too silent, always had comfort in it from the way Anne sips her morning herbal tea to Mr. Sallow grumbling as he yet again flips another coin into the well and of course, Sebastian; Sebastian who had both shown you the wonders of his tightly-knit hometown and welcomed you with open arms from when you were 5th years up until your 7th. Sebastian who had shown you Feldcroft's love for tranquility and comfort in silence. You had found yourself in a town— in a home with just the two of you.

Just you and Ominis.

The dam breaks out of nowhere and you could only prevent yourself from full-out bawling as the palm of your hands cover your mouth. Ominis is startled by the sudden sounds of your crying.

"I-I should've stopped him." You sobbed as your hands shake. It was quite muffled with the hindrance of the hands against your mouth but Ominis hears it nonetheless. The blonde only falls silent as he listens to your worries. "Way back then! I should've—"

"No, Y/N." Ominis gently intercepts as he tries to swallow a sudden lump in his throat, preventing the breakdown caused by the events that occurred a few hours ago. "You were just trying to help. I-I would've done it as well, had I been in your place. There was nothing we could do."

Ominis sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than you. You look at him with swollen eyes as the urge to bawl dwindled. You let out a shaky sigh once more as you try to calm yourself.

"All of this started because of me," Ominis whispers. You turn your head towards the young Gaunt in confusion. "I was the one who exposed him to the dark arts. He was a natural learner and when concepts and magic like this are exposed to a person like him, it's innate for Sebastian to know more. He loves Anne more than anything. I-I should've known better when I brought you both to the scriptorium a few years ago. I helped set up that situation for him. I helped him hurt Anne. I made him—"

He couldn't say the words but you knew what he was talking about. You scowl at his insinuation before grabbing his cheeks in your hands and facing them toward you. You could now see the tears silently running down his face. It had sounded like he was so composed but he was just as broken as you were.

"I miss him," Ominis whispers as you hold his face close to yours. Your lip wobbles as you lick your bottom lip to collect yourself.

"You need to listen to yourself, Ominis." You mumble as your thumbs brush against his cold cheeks. "There are a lot of things we don't understand today and most of them we may try to blame ourselves for it but never try to point the blame on something that Sebastian inflicted himself. He was perfectly aware of what this might lead to and he cast it with perfect intentions."

Ominis quietly sobs in your hands as you press your forehead against his. "I'm scared to think right now."

"Then don't." You whisper as your eyes focus on the trembling boy in front of you. "Just focus on me."

Ominis gulps as he tries to compose himself, letting out short breaths as he lifts his hands to feel the sides of your arms then your shoulders then your neck then your jaw then your cheeks. You softly smile as you allow yourself to be seen by Ominis. You bask in his touch before feeling his touch on your lips. Its gentle and faint. Your eyes glance down at his lips before looking up at his cloudy blue eyes.

He leans in hesitantly before placing a soft and tender kiss on your lips. It rests on yours for a couple of seconds before he gently pulls away. There's a moment of pause before he breaks the silence.

"Stay with me." He whispers. You admire his face for a bit as you lean back slightly. You know what he means as he intertwines his hands with yours. It almost makes you cry but you know you needed to both be strong for what's about to come and right now, all you needed was each other. You press your forehead against his to let him feel your nod.

"O-Ominis." You moan softly as the blonde buries his head on your neck. His hands pull you close against him as you seat on his lap. Your cloaks and coats are forgotten on the floor of the house as your bodies entangle with one another on one of the beds inside the Sallow home.

The moment the two of you entered the house, it was just a mess of limbs wanting to be close as they physically can to one another. You can't remember the moment Ominis pulled you into his lap and sucked the living daylights out of you but you can't complain with how good it felt.

"Fuck." Ominis curses as his hands move under your skirt to grip your ass against the fabric of your undergarments. You whimper as you move against the hardening bulge on his crotch. You wrap your arms around his neck as you place your forehead against his.

"Pretty." You whisper, smiling as you trace his features with your hand. "My pretty boy."

Ominis whimpers at the praise before moving his hand in your inner thigh and boldy cupping your sex. You jolt in response, moaning as he grinds the palm of his hand against your clit.

"You've done so well. Done so much." Ominis licks his lips as he feels your wet arousal leak through your underwear. You rest your head on his shoulder as Ominis slides the piece of fabric to the side and slide his fingers in with ease. You moan at the intrusion.

You hug him close as he works your inside, shaping you to fit him. He curls his fingers in, pushing them deeper as it brushes against your sweet spot. You whine at its closeness, your hips trying to push it deeper as you grind on his fingers. Ominis peppers kisses on the side of your neck and jaw, cooing as you continue to let out soft moans and gasps at his ministrations.

"P-put it in." You whisper as your hand grips his wrist to stop him. You had almost come from his fingers alone but all you needed right now is to be closer to him. Ominis nods before the two of you remove your remaining clothes. He casts a protection charm and you watch as a thin sheen surface wrapped around his cock. Your hands find themselves cupping his cheeks once more as he angles his cock against your entrance. You gulp as you feel the head bump into your opening.

"You ready?" He softly asks, rubbing his hands against your hips. You smile as you pull him into a kiss, gently lowering yourself down onto his cock. Both of you softly moan out as you take in his length inch by inch. It takes you a while before you feel his thighs hit against yours. You let out a shaky breath as you rub your noses against one another.

Silence, but this time it's comfort. It fills in your heart with warmth and tranquility. It renders you both speechless and only relying on your bodies to communicate how you feel and so, you move.

You bounce passionately on his lap, feeling his length go in and out of your cunt. It draws out whines and moans as you try to keep yourself as close as possible with your foreheads still against one another. Ominis grips your hips as he tries to meet your bounces with his thrusts, pushing him deeper in you. The pleasure is immense and the need for each other's warmth is felt through the clashing of lips and gripping of one another's skin.

At one point, Ominis grabs your waist and pulls you to stand up with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist as he bounces you up and down his cock with vigor. You make choked noises as you certainly feel the thrust of his cock hit the back of your throat. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pushes you against the wall, growling as he rams his cock into you.

You allow yourself to be at his mercy. To be his canvas as he paints you with reds, greens, and blacks signifying the emotions brought by earlier events. Sebastian. Anne. Mr. Sallow. The triptych. The Scriptorium. His family. Slytherin. You allow him to use you as he sees fit as you do to him.

Ominis pulls his head back from your neck, thoroughly marking your neck. He presses his forehead against yourself as you feel his hips stuttering.

"Stay with me. Please—" He whispers, broken as he pleads softly. You grabs his face between your hands as he practically fucks you into the wall. "Stay. Stay by me. F-Fuck."

"I'm here." You reassure him as you place a chaste kiss on his lips before you move to press against his ear, your hand gripping his hair tightly. He moans in response. "I'm here. I'll be here, always."

He snarls at your response as he moves his hips faster. His hand dives down to rub your clit, stimulating you further to your climax. You let out high-pitched whines against his ear as you grip his hair tighter.

It's him who releases first as he bottoms out and let his fluid be caught by the protective charm, forming a barrier from being released inside you, yet despite his release being protected, you could still feel its warmth which prompts you to release as well. Your body jolts at your orgasm, your thighs shake and your toes curl at the intensity. You push against Ominis, head banging against the wall as you choked out moans.

"I love you. I fucking love you." Ominis snarls as he dips down to suck your breasts. It further enhances your lengthy orgasm as you grip his shoulders in sensitivity. Ominis gently pries you from the wall as you slump in his arms before gently placing you down on the bed.

Its all hazy as you feel being cleaned up before a body is pressed up yet again against you. Ominis wraps you in his embrace as you pull him close. You feel overwhelmed with the need to be close to him as he continues to give you soft kisses against your face. You didn't even know you were crying before Ominis gently brushed against your temples, catching the falling tears. You open your eyes as you stare at him beside you.

"Ominis." You whisper as you face him on your side. You place a soft kiss on his lips as your leg rests over his hip. The need for each other's touch never left. His hand runs the length of your thigh as he slots himself between your legs. You miss the fullness as your swollen and sensitive pussy clenched over nothing. "Inside. Please."

Ominis moves in silence as his hand pushes you close against him through the small of your back before grabbing the shaft of his semi-hard cock and pushing it back in with ease. You dreamily sigh as you place kisses against his lips. Both of stay still, feeling your inner walls pulse against his slowly hardening cock, both riddled with sensitivity.

"I love you too." Your reply to his declaration after a few moments of silence. You trace his features with your finger as he softly smiles at you returning his affection. Tears flow freely down your faces as you kiss once more. It's you who pulls back first.

"I'm here with you."

"As am I, my little dove."

A/N: smut is done best at 3 am. hope yall enjoyed this :D you and ominis fucked each other so hard bc yall needed to vent <3

[darkshelbyfiction]

The Price to Pay (Cillian Murphy Blurb)

Warning: Dubious Consent

When you arrived in New York, at the tender age of eighteen, you never thought that life could be so cruel. You had just completed your freshman year, and an internship at a top-notch talent agency seemed like the perfect opportunity to gain some real-world experience.

You were keen to get your foot in the door of the acting world, having a fondness for drama throughout your adolescence. Who knew that this internship would plunge you into the depths of a depraved, immoral world in which you were nothing more than a plaything for the rich and famous?

"You know how women in this business get ahead, don't you?" your employer , a sleazy, overweight man named Harold, leered at you during your first week at the agency. "It's all about who you know and what you're willing to do for them," he said, suggestively licking his lips and letting his eyes roam freely over your petite figure.

"I am not going to do this kind of thing. I never even had a boyfriend before. This is disgusting!" you told Harold, thinking that this would shut him up but, much to your surprise, a week later, he made you a proposal.

"I have a client who is rather famous . I think he could help boost your career. I just need a small favor in return," he said with a sly smile.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as your gut twisted in dread.

"What kind of small favor?" you cautiously asked and Harold became rather direct. 

" Well, that client of mine has requested a meeting with you. Unfortunately, he cannot keep his hands off young, attractive girls like yourself and you are most certainly his type. And if you want to get anywhere in this industry, you need to play the game."

"So, you're offering me a choice between my integrity and my career aspirations? That's just great." You muttered, feeling a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach.

"Come on Y/N, all you need to do is spread your legs for two hours or so and let him stick  his prick inside you and then you'll be on your way to stardom," Harold said with a drunken grin.

You were disgusted at the thought, but you were also aware of your own naivety. You only had $100 in your bank account, and you couldn't afford to pay your rent or tuition. You knew that if you didn't take this job, you'd be back at square one.

"Okay , I'll do it," you said reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper, causing Harold to grin triumphally before setting up the date.

"If you see Lisa, she will tell you what to expect. She slept with him a couple of times before to get parts in movies," Harold added and it was indeed what you did. 

Lisa was just one year older than you and had acted in several movies and Cillian was one of them. She too had sex with influential men to get ahead in her career. She looked young, but her eyes held a thousand stories you could never compete with, and you were grateful to have her guidance.

"He was the first guy I ever slept with. I had just turned 18. It was on his 46th birthday and Harold organised it," Lisa began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And you never had sex before?" you asked Lisa , your voice wavering slightly as you struggled to process this new information.

She chuckled lightly and shook her head. "No, I was as nervous as you are and I think that is what gets him off the most. He likes being the first ," Lisa shared, her voice monotonous and distant. "I slept with him a few times, but the first time was the hardest. I remember staring at the ceiling, feeling his body on top of me and knowing that I could never get that moment back. I was vulnerable, and he knew it. I don't think I even uttered a sound, except for a slight whimper when he pushed in to me."

"God, the pain was unbearable," she continued, her voice low and filled with a heavy dose of shame. "I remember he came inside me, so much so that it ran down my legs and I was so sore the next day that I could barely walk when I auditioned for a show. But I kept my mouth shut," Lisa said, her voice trailing off. "I knew what I had to do to make it in this industry, and I was determined to do whatever it took."

The following day it was your turn to do whatever it took.

The door clicked shut as Harold left you alone in Cillian's luxurious penthouse suite after delivering you there and making the necessary introduction.

The silence was crushing as you took in your surroundings. Your pulse raced, your palms slick with sweat, as you nervously glanced about the elegantly decorated space. A beautifully carved wooden headboard, perfectly positioned to overlook the sparkling skyline, drew your attention, your heart sinking as you realized this is where the violating act would take place.

"Would you like a drink to calm your nerves?" Cillian asked you as you stood there trembeling  , staring at the plush carpet. His voice was smooth and silky, a complete contrast to the rough and raw pontential of what he was about to do to your young, innocent body.

"I-I don't know..." you stuttered, unsure of how to respond as he assessed you, his manhood already straining against the expensive fabric of his trousers.

The idea of a drink repulsed you, but the thought of being alone with him in such an exposed state made your stomach turn. Reluctantly, you nodded, and he waved a hand towards the ornate bar in the corner of the room.

As he poured out a glass of amber liquid, you tried to steady your shaking hands. Liquid courage, that's what you needed. You took a tentative sip and felt the burn of the alcohol course down your throat, warming your trembling body.

"Harold tells me that you just turned eighteen and looking to make a name for yourself in this industry," Cillian said smoothly, his eyes fixed on your slender frame.

You nodded slowly, wondering where this was heading. Your mind raced with questions, but your fear kept you silent.

"Well, if you are good girl for me , I can definitely help you with that," Cillian said, his voice dripping with lewd intentions as he guided you towards the bed .

Your mouth went dry as you tried to shake your head, to protest, but your voice was caught in your throat. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't stomach it.

"I don't really want to do this ," you stammered, your voice trembling.

"I know, but think of all the opportunities this could bring you, " Cillian purred, inching closer to you before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Come on, I will be gentle and promise it won't be that bad, " he whispered, nuzzling your neck.

"It's just, I never had sex before, " you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Even better, " Cillian murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze through your dress. "This means that I get to pop that cherry of yours," he told you and you gasped as his other hand slid down your body, making its way beneath your dress.

He slipped his fingers beneath your panties, groaning as he felt your bald , shaved pussy. "Fuck, your hole is tiny," he growled, his fingers now tracing your slit.

"P-please don't do this," you stuttered, feeling tears spill from your eyes as a fresh wave of fear and resistance flooded through you.

"Sshhh, it's alright," he murmured, his mouth suddenly on yours again, kissing you hungrily as his fingers played with your labia. "I know you are scared, but just relax and let it happen."

His words were muffled as he spoke them around your lips and tongue, his fingers now dipping between your folds, exploring you gently and curiously, like a man trying something for the first time.

"Now why don't you take your clothes off for me," he murmured, as he pulled away from your mouth, his oceanic eyes meeting yours.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest and your hands trembling with fear and anxiety, but the threat of his looming presence, towering over you, made your compliance instinctive.

You undid the buttons of your shirt slowly, his gaze devouring your young body with each piece of clothing you shed and, eventually, all you were wearing was some white cotton panties featuring a small stain of blood from when he had fingered you.

It was that innocence that excited him the most.

"Such a good girl," he praised you, sliding his hand over your collarbone and down your chest. You quivered under his touch, wishing you could disappear. Your fear mingled with disgust as his finger traced the outline of your breast, lingering on your nipple, hardening it. "Harold wasn't wrong. You are a stunning little thing."

Your skin crawled at his words, but you remained frozen, submissive under his touch, too paralyzed with fear to fight back.

He undressed himself quickly, revealing his toned physique, exaggerated by the soft glow of the dimmed lights. He was completely naked now, and you gasped at the size of his manhood.

"Lie down, sweetie," he commanded, and you obeyed and, with a shivering body, laid down on the large bed while he stroked his cock provocatively.

'Spread your legs for me,' he ordered and with a deep breath, you obeyed. You heard him gasp at the sight of your pure, perfect body before him. He noticed your blood-stained panties and his chest heaved at the prospect of claiming your innocence.

"Ah, sweetie, I see your panties are stained from when I fingered that virgin hole of yours. Let's have a look at it, shall we?" he drawled as he reached for the hem of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. He paused for a second, marveling at your bare pussy, the folds pink and tight. "Perfect," he murmured as he spread your legs wider, exposing your bleeding slit to the cool air of the room.

He then ran his fingers over your blood soaked slit , causing you to whimper at the intrusive sensation.

"Such a tight little thing you are," he growled as he slipped a finger into your channel, pushing against the barrier of your virginity before pulling it out and wiping it on the sheets.

"It's going to be a snug fit ," he mused, admiring the sight of you lying there, exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. Your skin was flushed, your pulse quickened at his words. He was sizing you up, like a predator would its prey, and you couldn't help but feel like a lamb led to the slaughter.

"Well, let's see if we can stretch that hole a bit, shall we?" he smirked, climbing on top of you. His legs pinned yours down, spreading them wider apart.

The head of his thick cock nudged against your slick entrance, causing you to be startled by its girth and you squirmed under his weight, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, preventing you from moving.

"Wait," you whimpered, your voice trembling with uncertainty and fear. He looked down upon you, his piercing gaze holding your own. "Aren't you going to wear a condom?" you asked, swallowing hard and looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. 

"No, I want to feel you bare. It's so much better that way," he replied eagerly while running the head of his cock over your slit. 

"But, I'm not on birth control," you stammered, realizing how foolish it was to say such a thing at this point.

He smiled and braced his arms on either side of your head. "That's okay. I will give you the morning after pill when we are done," he whispered, before he began pushing the tip of his swollen cockhead against your entrance. The pressure of the head pressing against your innocence made you squirm and protest underneath him, but he didn't heed your pleas.

"Oh god, it hurts ," you cried out as he pushed in another inch, stretching your cherry to the brink.

"I know. It's alright . Just relax, baby," Cillian whispered soothingly, despite knowing that the pain was inevitable. "You are such a good girl for me," he told you , as he began pushing deeper, slowly and deliberately, tearing through the thin barrier of your innocence.

You couldn't help but let out a yelp, a combination of surprise, pain, and discomfort, as you lay there beneath him, legs trembling, hands fisted at your sides, nails digging into the luxurious sheets of the elegant suite. Your whole body tensed, tears streaming down your face, as he kept pushing forward until his entire length was buried deep inside of you, groaning out in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. I knew it was going to be good, but goddamn," Cillian muttered, starting to thrust in a slow, deliberate rhythm, savouring the feeling of your virginity tightly wrapped around his cock.

"Please...it hurts," you whimpered, trying to hold back the tears as you felt your body stretched and invaded beyond belief.

"Just relax and let me stretch you out," he grunted, slamming all the way inside of you, filling you up with his thick, swollen cock.

Your tight pussy burned with a throbbing sensation, your body still adjusting to the sheer size that was previously unknown to your innocent body.

Cillian smirked as he felt your virginity broken, your blood glazing the length of his shaft.  You cried out in pain, your fingers digging into the plush fabric of the bedsheets beneath you. He reveled in your discomfort, savoring the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around him as he thrust deeper into your young, innocent body.

"God, you feel so fucking good," he grunted, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that made your breath catch in your throat.  "Look at me while I fuck you."

You yelped in pain, tears streaming down your cheeks as he mercilessly thrust himself into you, ripping through your innocence. Your young, untouched body screamed in protest, but Cillian showed no remorse.

"I am going to cum deep inside you," he growled, his hips slamming roughly against yours.

You felt disgusted, helpless as he ravaged your body, pushing himself to the hilt with each brutal thrust.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he buried himself deep inside of you. You whimpered softly, fighting the urge to cry as the pain intensified.

"Almost done , little one," Cillian grunted, breathing heavily as he slammed into you forcefully. With a final groan, he ejaculated, releasing himself deep inside your tight channel.

It felt like a burning hot poker stabbing you relentlessly, the sensation unbearable. The intimacy of his release within you made you shudder from its intensity. The aroma of his sweat hung heavy in the air, mingled with an undercurrent of blood - your blood, invading your innocence and leaving a trail of crimson on the creases of your thighs.

His grip on your wrists slackened, allowing you to wriggle free from his grasp and when he pulled out of you, you could feel his semen oozing out, coating your inner thighs in a slick, wet mess.

The pain radiated through your body with a vengeance, and you couldn't help but wince as you shifted on the bed, the sheets sticking to your damp skin.

"There are towels in the bathroom," Cillian said casually, gesturing towards the en-suite with a nod. "Clean yourself up."

A flush rose to your cheeks, as you looked away from him, the embarrassment lodging itself in your throat like a fist.

You had heard stories of young girls like yourself being taken advantage of in the entertainment industry, but you never thought it would happen to you. 

When you stood up quietly, you felt his cum leak out of your pussy, a mix of pain, discomfort and shame pulsing through your veins. Your muscles protested as you walked on shaky legs towards the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you locked the door behind you, and stared at your reflection in the mirror. 

You cleaned up , using a warm washcloth to wipe the cum and bloodstains from your thighs, feeling the painful throb radiate from within and when you retreated from the bathroom, Cillian handed you a packet containing a single pill.

"Take this. It's the morning-after pill. Make sure to take it tonight. Filming starts tomorrow," Cillian said, his tone flat.

His words echoed in your ears as you took the pills from him, feeling numb with shock and disgust. You wanted to scream and shout, to tell him that he had no right to do this to you. But all you could manage was a weak "thank you" before turning away from him and gathering your things. 

[babytarttdoodoo]

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

[fqiryspit]

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘦𝘷𝘪 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Summary: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐘/𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞?

.

cw: College!AU, Full smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, getting absolutely railed, Relationship Problems, Love Triangles, Smut, Historia is pregnant with Erens baby, Eren and Y/n are together, Levi is with Petra, Sad sex, Y/n is lowkey depressed, Eren is bad at feelings, Starbucks Levi, Levi is Bad at Feelings, Historia the Hoe, mega toxic, Toxic Eren.

playlist

Chapter 19: 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

Masterlist

.

you were on autopilot as you walked into the apartment building, eyes glossed over in a haze of one motive,

having your fist in Historias mouth.

the receptionist waved at you but you passed by her, your cold keys clacking against each other as you pressed the elevator button 

the old lady at the counter face contorted in confusion, your coldness is out of character, but before she can ask the steel doors slam shut.

you feel your stomach twist as you walk down the hallway, not understanding the feeling until you knock on her door,

it's excitement.

"I'll be there in a sec!" you hear her pitchy priss dumb bitch voice hiss.

she doesn't even check the peephole as she blindly opens the door, stupid, what if someone on the other side had bad intentions?

the handle turned,

but me? I have only the purest intentions.

"Y/n?" your eyes traveled up her frame, meeting with her doll blue eyes

the same eyes that widen when your fist smashed into her cheek.

her blonde locks spiraled to the side as her neck strained at the harsh momentum, her lips screaming "WHAT THE HELL!" as she held her throbbing cheek

she stumbled back as she looked up to you, utter confusion turned into fearful realization,

you know...

fuck.

you pulled her by her collar, hitting her against the door, closing it in the process

"you fucked MY boyfriend" you scream, eyes wide as fucking fury filled your veins

"get.the.fuck.off.me, you FUCKING LUNATIC!" she screeched as the tip of her shoe smashed into your knee

losing balance at her action, you fall onto one of your knees, hopping back up just for your shoulders to be pushed down and your chin held up

"eren doesn't want some psychotic bitch in his life. stay away from him" she said through gritted teeth

you sucked on the side of your gums to compose yourself

she...is telling you to stay away from him?

you jumped up with your knee bent, kneeing her in her stomach earning a scream from her, she bent down in reflex to hold her stomach, 

your nails dug into her scalp as you forced her head up,

"I'm not some fucking slut that fucks other people's boyfriends" you spat, 

"Well maybe he just didn't want to be with some boring ass bitch like you" her blue eyes flamed as she glared at you

"No, maybe if you didn't get yourself pregnant we would've been fine" you snapped back, jaw locked in place as you stared in disgust at her

"I never wanted to be pregnant, Do you have any idea how much that broke me?" she cried, hot tears running down her porcelain face as she screams at you

"I have a pretty fucking good idea myself" you laughed through your words, you're gonna go through all shit of what she went through...you hope you come out not as messy

"I WAS NOTHING. I'm forever just some forgotten mom, a mistake"

"I'M SORRY THAT'S NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM!" you dropped her head down to kick the tip of your shoe into her stomach causing a dry struggle of air to release from her lungs

"like it or not it is your problem, you don't want him, you don't want to fix this...you just wanna tell yourself you're fighting...be honest with me Y/n, who exactly are you fighting for?"

...who am I fighting for?

"don't try and relate to me, don't try and act like you know how I feel in this shit that you caused." you hissed with gritted teeth, sweat dripping from your face as you pant, knuckles sore and heart racing as you mutter the next words,

"Historia, I mean this with everything in me"

"I will never forgive you"

she slowly looks back up to you, sucking in her blooded lip while staring into your dead eyes

"and I'll never apologize"

your fist ran up in a matter of moments, not thinking as your fist cracked against her temple, her glossy lips crying out as her head begin to throb, her teeth still shut together as she huffs in anger, before you could react she threw her fist at what was in front of her

it was like slow motion as Historias fist moved towards you,

somethings wrong

you don't know why, but something is terribly, terribly wrong

and then it hits you.

historias mighty fist was about to hit,

the one place a mother should never let slip

the safe haven you've built for your baby was about to have one rude awakening

and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it

Chapter 20

˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜

an: heh.....hey......................*cough* heyyyyy shawtyyyy......OK OK yes new chapter ok bye.

taglist: @magictrump @jiminslove1y @raiiny-nightght @whatsambiti0n @afailuretoearth @poisonivie915 @miss-kiabelle @4den @imhornyforwomen @raiiny-night @sarcasticallydrowning @curlyvenustuff @auntienegro @iggynorance @awhore4aot @ackerfem-blog @kiteheads @ang-kyo @screeeechqueen @kenryug @huecify @helloslept @alexameliamg @tsunamethyst @sofamochi @3xchooo @arusio @alexameliamg @6sakusa @mimi14berrybear @i8shuoz @zonting @pluviophilefangirl @sstarcandyy @beaniebanby @reneki @s1ut4chrollo @iea-tsand @crouchanddekuswife @raniatsala

(if I missed anyone or you’d like to be a part of the tag list you can message me or just comment!)

[kasagia]

Can't catch me now... pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling xgrisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. Word Count: 4,4 k Taglist: @flostvs1508 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @aoi-targaryen @summersummoner-pat @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @msblacklupin Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 1 ~•♤♤♤•~

"You look like death. Have you even slept an hour?" You shrug at Genya's question. The woman sighs and works on your face to make you presentable. "The general was furious. He's a good man, despite everything they say about him. You have to understand that... he didn't expect this turn of events, and his stoic attitude was violated. I swear, this is the second time I've seen him lose his cool. And I've been here since I was a child."

"When was the first time?" You ask curiously, not believing her for a moment. You couldn't trust anyone here. You could only count on yourself and no one else. You missed Alina a lot.

"I will tell you this with a complete twist. Anyway, if someone asks, you didn't know it from me. 40 years ago, in the Hunger Games, the General was... asked to be a mentor. Her name was Luda. She was brave and beautiful, with a good heart and a pure soul. She was a healer in her village. She volunteered. In exchange for her younger sister."

"And what happened? He scared her with his shadows because she was a vegetarian and didn't want to eat meat to get stronger?" You mock, as she is making final amendments to your look.

"She died." An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Genya was blindly combing your hair, obviously thinking about her. You could see from the look in her eyes that she must have been especially close to this tribute. "She was... close to the general. He had been mourning her death for a very long time. And I don't want to spread rumours, but the tribute who killed her and won the Hunger Games was found hanging in the forest near his home village. His family was soon convicted of conspiring against the crown and hanged in a more… spectacular way."

"I feel like you're not telling me this just to satisfy my curiosity." You guess as she finally pulls away from you.

You don't know what's worse, when she fixes your face with her strange power or when she looks at you intently, looking for something else to improve your appearance. You weren't used to caring THAT much about yourself. Because who would want to look at an orphan?

"I just want to warn you that… our choices don't necessarily affect only us." You roll your eyes at her attempt at intimidation. Of course. He couldn't make you do anything himself, so he sent his minions to convince you. Quite pathetic, like for the terrible Darkling, who everyone feared.

"I am an orphan. There's nothing he can take from me. I... I have nothing left to lose or to care about..." You say it quietly, rubbing your wrist with your hand. You try hard not to think about Alina and Mal. Your only family... all you have left after those you lost.

"And your life?"

"We're all going to die someday, Genya." Your soft whisper seals the uncomfortable silence.

You think about your parents and siblings—everyone you lost—and the life you could have had that fate ripped from you before you learned how to fight for yourself. You lost everything as a child. There's nothing left for you. At least nothing good.

"Here. You look amazing. There is only one thing missing." She says this with a smile and takes out a long, black coat with black and white embroidery from the closet. It's a kefta. A fucking kefta.

"What the hell is that?" You ask angrily, standing up from your chair and looking at the piece of clothing in utter disgust.

"The general ordered it especially for you. You are a Grisha. You are one of us, and you should present yourself as such." She says this and puts the kefta on the chair.

You walk up to it and run your hand over the material. You expected something rough—just like the general's character—and uncomfortable to wear, since the keftas protected Grisha from every blade and bullet, but this... was nothing like armor. It was soft and cozy. Like velvet. Nothing you may have experienced in your district.

"Black? Isn't that his colour?" You ask, trying to reassure yourself of how terrible this damn thing is.

"Merzost is closely associated with the Darkling bloodline in our culture, since he used it to create the fold. Consider it a… coincidental coincidence." You snort when you hear her explanation. If anything, it was a sign of belonging. The general's new toy. Freak of nature. What a pity he'll lose you before he can use you for the good of his fucking Grisha.

"Other people won't see it like that. You know this, so stop lying to me." The redhead sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Just put it on. People need to know that the king broke his word to Grisha to force you to participate in the Hunger Games, breaking part of the covenant between us."

"This isn't my war to fight, Genya. Besides, I'm going to die in games anyway, so what's the difference?" Your response only enraged her more.

She didn't raise her voice, and you wouldn't have recognized her emotions unless you saw her hands tremble slightly before she placed them behind her back. You wonder how many times she has had to hide her true feelings.

"You have Merzost in your veins, the most powerful force you can draw from. Do you really want to give it all up? Lose the opportunity you have in front of you? Do you know how many of us have been waiting for you?" She asks with resentment in her voice, but you really don't want to argue with her.

You know it doesn't make sense because they are all here believing in some stupid children's story, a fairy tale that made you a savior in their eyes, and now, since you have finally arrived, you are supposed to fly around and pretend to be a hero you know you are not. As if you could do anything you wanted.

"I was dead long before I was chosen for The Hunger Games. Year after year I was only prolongs the inevitable. I am sorry, but that's the truth. Don't get your hopes up."

"I see that my favourite suicide is in good shape today." Your discussion is interrupted by the appearance of the Darkling. You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. You seriously considered throwing yourself at the spear of one of those ancient armored knights that decorated the halls of the palace. At least you wouldn't have to endure his presence any longer. "Are you rested? Fed?"

"Don't you have something else to do instead of keeping an eye on me? Or send your minions to do it for you? This is getting tiring and irritating." Genya gives you an offended look. She huffs, leaving the chambers as she gets a nod from the Darkling.

"I am your mentor. It's my duty to take care of you." He says, clasping his hands behind him once you're left alone. He looks at you carefully and takes a step towards you. This time, you don't step back but stare at him defiantly.

"Then it is with great pleasure that I would like to relieve you of this obligation." Your words only make him chuckle. He straightens a piece of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. His fingertips brush against your cheek, making you shiver. However, you do nothing to let him know how much his proximity bothers you.

"Oh, you won't make it. Only a king can do this. Do you like your kefta?" He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head towards the offending fabric still hanging on the chair.

"It looks like a floor rag." You say, not hiding your disgust. He chuckles darkly again. He takes the kefta in his hands and unfolds it, pretending to look at it carefully as he walks over to you again.

"Then Karamzin must be richer than I thought, if this is what your floor rags look like. Especially the orphanage."

"Have you been rummaging through my files? What for?" You ask in shock, trying to mask your fear. If he finds out about Alina and Mal… you don't want to have any more deaths on your conscience.

"Better put it on if you don't want to find out very soon." You decide to follow your better judgement instead of your pride and turn your back on him, letting him put on the hideous kefta. Surprisingly, the material hugs you perfectly. You feel warm and soft—the complete opposite of what you know. You gasp in shock as he reaches for his belt and pulls you towards him. You bump into his chest as he tightens the belt around your waist. "Good girl. Now, put your hand in the crook of my arm and smile nicely, and everything will turn out great today. And if you keep behaving as a good girl, you'll get dessert tonight."

"I'd rather gouge out my eyes and sew my mouth shut than be an obedient little doll that you can dress however you want and show everyone."

"I'd reconsider it if I were you. The chefs baked a chocolate cake today. With chocolate-covered cherries on top. Have you ever had a chance to eat something like it?" He smiles, almost mischievously, as he stands next to you, still waiting for you to follow his instructions.

"Son of a bitch." You mutter under your breath and he laughs. He must have been drunk. He couldn't be in such a good mood. Not him.

"That's actually very ture, my little wellspring." He says and leads you to a slaughter worse than the Hunger Games... he leads you to a party for the Games. Among the nobility. You shudder just thinking about this nightmare (not because he puts his bigger hand on yours).

"You have a very beautiful dress!" You force a fake smile on your lips when a noblewoman compliments you.

"Thank you." You say, sipping your glass of wine. The only good thing that happened to you at the party was alcohol. And even then, the Darkling tried to limit you to this one pleasure, making sure that you didn't drink too much.

Your head hurt from all the nonsense conversations with all these people who were only famous for being born into rich families. Terrible. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice several tributes also struggling to maintain their composure. At least you weren't the only one.

However, after you turned out to be Grisha, the rest of the tributes tended to avoid you. You knew from the beginning that you wouldn't have any friends among them, but it would be nice to have one friendly soul in this terrible place.

"I didn't think the people of District 12 would fit into our community so well, but you, darling, look absolutely perfect." You barely stop yourself from throwing the glass you're holding at her. Instead, you tighten your grip on him and smile politely at her, gritting your teeth in anger.

"I'm glad I can surprise you."

Fortunately, you don't have to talk to her anymore. The general approaches you quickly, noticing your tenseness, and with his natural grace, he places his hand on your waist, starting a conversation with a woman who turns out to be a close friend of the queen. Oops. It's better that he came to you, because you wouldn't apologise if you accidentally allowed Merzost to break free and turn her into a volcra.

As you stand next to them, as larger crowds of women begin to gather around you, you realize a terrible truth. The Darkling was your only support here. Him and Genya.

You flinch as he suddenly tightens his grip on your waist and guides you away from the group of noblewomen, who giggle as you both walk away. You allow yourself to roll your eyes at them.

"What the hell was that?" He asks you angrily, setting your glass down on the table. You automatically reach for it again, but he grabs your hand before you can take it and keeps it away from the alcohol.

"I was just about to ask you the same fucking thing." You respond in a defiant tone, glaring daggers at him. Your stomach was starting to growl, and the bastard wouldn't let you touch anything to eat until you fulfilled your end of the bargain and behaved yourself. As you and he can see, you didn't do very well.

"Don't grimace around them as if they were pouring salt into your open wounds." He says it angrily and lets go of your hand. He reaches for something from the buffet. You freeze when he hands you a tiny plate with some fruit. You lick your lips, staring at your food for a moment before looking back at him. "It's for avoiding causing a drama. Partly. Try harder, and I'll let you eat whatever you want."

"But that's what they do! Do you have any idea what it's like to have to stand there smiling and nodding your head while these snobs from the capital talk about how your people and the city are octopus and beneath them?!" You hiss so only he can hear it, but you take the plate of food from him anyway. God knows when you'll get something again.

"I'm Grisha. I know exactly what you are going through." You would laugh at him mockingly if you didn't have a mouth full of food. He looks at you disgusted, and you quickly get the hint and eat smaller portions.

"Please. You've been doing fine since the Hunger Games. At least your people don't have to die every year to the delight of a bunch of sadistic idiots with stuffed bras and fake hair." Your comment makes him bite his lip, but he still can't help but smile a little. Few people could make him laugh and laugh at the same time. As you can see, Merzost wasn't the only special thing about you.

However, your hostile look reminds him that you are in the middle of an argument, and it is his turn to present his argument. God, how much work he had to do with you. You will kill him before he can get you safely through the Hunger Games.

"But years ago we were hunted by all of you, and somehow I don't spit on every Ravkan and kill them for it."

"Because you didn't experience it. If you were there, you would act differently." You sound confident. He shakes his head, wondering how you would react to the truth. Although now he seems to be more interested in food than in anything he has to say. He had to finally feed you. His Merzost Holder couldn't go hungry. It's enough that you experienced hunger and poverty in District 12.

"You think?" He asks, setting your empty plate on the table and offering his hand to you. You look at him for a moment, confused by the sudden… change in his attitude.

"General?"

"You can dance, can't you?" He asks, taking your hand, and without waiting for your response, he leads you to the dance floor. The rest of the mentors have no such idea, so you both are closely watched by all the participants in the ball.

"A little." You say shyly, something he's experiencing from you for the first time. He smiles fondly at you, which, of course, you don't see, too embarrassed to look at anything other than your shoes. But others see. The general's small smile does not go unnoticed by his closest soldiers.

"I guess I have to work with that." He says this and gently lifts your chin to look at him. He places a hand on your waist, and the other holds yours in an iron, steady grip. "Eyes on me. Put your hand on my shoulder and try not to fall. Keep up with me, and everything will be fine."

All you can do is trust him, which you do with surprising ease for him. Somehow, he can't take his eyes off you. You looked gorgeous in the black kefta, especially with his symbol embroidered on the back—a little thing you didn't need to know yet. And so, looking at you, Aleksander can't help but wonder what it would be like if he met you under different circumstances. Maybe if he were younger, less experienced... if his mother's words didn't ring so loudly in his head every time he started to feel something akin to tenderness towards you. Maybe if he hadn't lost so many...

Meanwhile, you try to fight the strange feeling he gives you every time his skin touches yours. You feel a strange pull, a calling, and you realise how your power, the same one you tried to ignore and forget for so many years, comes to life under his touch. You hated it. And him. For trying to break down the walls that you put up for so long and so hard. For trying to make you the Grisha you hated. For making it so easy for you to sink into the arms of the Black Heretic ancestor.

And at the same time… it was nice to feel important for a change… even if just for a moment.

So you dance with him, agreeing to this little moment of truce between you two. Deciding that you would look for answers later as to why you felt so attached to him. And why every time he touched you you felt so… powerful.

"That was awful." You groan as you finally return to your chambers, with the Darkling by your side, of course.

He hasn't left you since that dance. He was always somewhere next to you as you talked with the nobility. You have gained several sponsors and the favour of important people in Os Alta. The Darkling was pleased. And you're exhausted.

"And wonderful. You did great, much better than I expected. The servants should bring our dinner soon." He says, sitting next to you on the couch, watching as you take off your kefta and throw it in the corner of the room. He bites his lip, deciding not to comment. He already expected a lot from you today. The manners lesson could have been taught another time.

"Our?" You ask surprised, not expecting him to stay longer than necessary.

"Do you mind?"

"Yes." You answer honestly and straight away, to which he just laughs.

"I wish I cared." He replies with a mischievous smile. You roll your eyes as you take off your shoes and try to pick any pins out of your hair. Genya seemed to enjoy tormenting you. There were definitely too many of them. "So a healer? Really?" He asks, referring to your last conversation. Someone asked you what you wanted to do before you got into The Hunger Games. You decided to answer truthfully once. Of course, you were laughed off and called a sweet, naive soul willing to help. You wanted to vomit on their polished, gold-plated shoes.

"Why not?" You ask angrily. He raises his hands defensively with a smirk, seeing how fed up you are with everything that happened today.

"It's rather… a thankless profession among the common people. Healers usually come to them when they are dying. Relieve suffering. They are the harbinger of death, almost like a reaper. Usually, they are not coming to actually extend their lives."

"So you must have had similar experiences." You scoff, making him think about it. This wasn't what you expected. You were expecting a rather harsh answer. Not a pensive, almost sad look. For a moment, you think that maybe he, too, could just be human. You shake your head. No. He was just one of them. He couldn't have any... human feelings or know the real pain.

"Painful but true. They don't get excited when they see me either." His whisper should make you change the subject, but after the terrible day he put you through, all you want to do is stick a pin in him where it hurts the most.

"I wonder why..." You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

"Don't mock. You were behaving so nicely. I prefer you to smile than spit acid."

"I wish I cared." You repeat his words from a while ago, trying to imitate his tone of voice. He rolls his eyes at you, but somehow you both do nothing more than make snide comments to each other. Taking advantage of the relatively quiet moment between you, you decide to ask him honestly. "What do you want from me?"

"To win." He replies simply, playing with the ring on his finger. He rolls it over on his finger, resting his chin on his hand as he looks at you intently. A shiver runs through you as the dark depths of his eyes meet yours. Undeterred by his short, evasive answer, you continue, knowing that this is your only chance to get something from him.

"And then what? You won't let me go back to my district." You say, knowing perfectly well that this is not an option for you. IF you win.

"You are right. You will live here. With Grisha. The people you belong to." You frown, dissatisfied with his answer. You weren't Grisha. You will never be. No matter how much he pushes and forces you to become one of them.

"Unless I die, which is very probably since I am not going to kill anyone on the arena." You remind him. He doesn't seem to take your promise seriously. You don't convince him. He will see for himself in the arena how serious you are about your decision.

"You won't die." He says it firmly, as if it were an obvious fact.

"How can you..."

"YOU WON'T!" He yells at you, standing up. You sit stoically in the same position as before, watching as the shadows in the corner of the room gather around him. He sighs and waves them away. "I've been waiting a long time for you, Y/N. You are the one of your kind and even more precious than a Sun Summoner. I won't see your dead body. No matter how much you want it."

"Leave." You say, too tired to argue with him, to tell him that you have no intention of being an obedient tool in his hands, that you won't be a weapon that he can use.

"That's my palace." Furious at his words, you get up to face him. You look at each other with pure hatred.

You are too tired to notice that a dark mass is beginning to form around your arms. But Aleksander sees it. And he watches with fascination as you let your powers slip through. Out of curiosity, he summons his shadows behind you. Just a small black cloud. However, for some reason, under the influence of your powers, the room is plunged into complete darkness. He looks at you in shock, realising that you had unknowingly empowered him by providing him with energy from Merzost. Unbelievable.

"And my room for a while, so prove to me you can sometimes be the nobel man everyone told me you are and leave me alone." You whisper; all you can see in the dark surrounding you are its irises, analysing you with undisguised fascination and admiration.

If only you trained, if you learned to control what was inside you... Aleksander wouldn't have to take anyone into account; he could just declare himself tsar, threatening the Ravkans to expand the fold if they didn't recognise Grisha's greatness. All he needed was you.

"As you wish." He says, deciding to let you win this fight. He takes your hand and holds it tight as he calls his shadows back to him. They come back in a second. One blink, and the darkness in the room disappears. Impossible. Even his mother didn't have that much control in her glory days. He wondered if you would have this effect only on him or on other Grisha as well. But no. He won't share this secret with anyone. Not yet. For now, you were only his little wellspring of power. "Tomorrow is the first day of your training. 7 A.M. Don't be late, or I will drag you out of your bed by myself." He says, letting go of your hand and walking towards the exit, trying hard not to steal glances at you. He would have to look into his grandfather's journals and old books. You were a real mystery. And he was just waiting to see what more you could do besides complete him perfectly.

"Go to hell." You mutter under your breath, rubbing the hand that was in his iron grip a few moments ago. You felt that stupid electric thrill again. It definitely had to have something to do with your strange connection. Darkling and Merzost Holder. You had to find out more about it. Maybe you need to start being nice to Genya after all...

"Excuse me?" He asks, turning around in the doorway when he hears the insult from you.

"Sleep well." You reply with a sweet, cynical smile. He shakes his head in amusement and decides to ignore your behavior. He'll give you a hard time at training tomorrow. See how far your skills range. With a little training, who knows... maybe you'll be able to bring people back from the dead.

Involuntarily, his thoughts turn to Luda. If he had you by his side earlier… no. He couldn't think about her. He knows that history would have turned out the same way. Because even if you had revealed yourself to him earlier, he would have been too busy with you to see anyone else.

Aleksander promises himself that he will do everything to prevent you from becoming his second Luda. He had enough ghosts of his past tormenting him at night. And you can't become another one of them. If necessary, I will kill these tributes myself. He will find a way. He always did.

Unless someone dares to interfere with his plans... just like last time. That's why, immediately after leaving your chambers, he goes to the only person he knows who will be able to protect you from his greatest enemy.

"Ulla?! Sister?! I have an offer you can't refuse!" He calls from the shore of the lake in the gardens of Little Palace.

[siyooungi]

i just had a thought. yunjin and yn having this kind of relationship where they just playfully fight and curse at each other all the time, like "why r u on the floor" "get out of my business" "gwt up and act like a normal human being" "shut the fuck up" (they're literally dating). BTW THANK U FOR ALL UR WORKS UR ONE OF MY FAV AUTHORS ON THIS PLATFORM 💘💘

A/N: AWWW, I’M HONORED!! TYSMM <3 mwah

Pairing: Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Idol: Huh Yunjin (Le Sserafim)

Warning(s): None?

You and Yunjin had a relationship like no other. You were the kind of couple who were constantly bickering, teasing and annoying one another, but it was all in good fun. Your banter was your way of showing affection, and it had become an integral part of your dynamic. Your relationship was filled with laughter and endless amounts of teasing.

Yunjin spent the day filming with the girls and was finally on her way back. She unlocked the door and walked into your shared apartment only to find you lying on the floor, engrossed in a book. "Why are you on the floor?" Yunjin asked as she closed the door behind her, looking at you in utter confusion as the couch was right next to you.

You moved the book out of your view and looked up at her. "Why are you in my business? Can't a person enjoy some quality time with the floor?" Yunjin rolled her eyes playfully and extended her hand. "Get up and act like a normal human being for once.” You stared at her hand before moving the book back in your view to block her.

“You can enjoy some quality time with me, cuddling." She persuaded, to which you finally placed your book on your chest and looked at her with feigned disgust. “As if I’d want to cuddle with you..” Yunjin stared at you with a knowing look, causing you to sigh and take her hand, standing up. You forgot you had the book on you and it fell down with a thud, bringing both of your attention to it on the floor.

“Well, are you going to pick it up or just stare at it?” Yunjin used her free hand to gesture to it, making you groan as you snatched it up and placed it against her chest. She dramatically huffed and stumbled back, as if you had used all of your strength into giving it to her. You rolled your eyes and walked away, only to stop a few feet away when you realized she wasn’t following.

“Well, am I going to my cuddles or no?” You asked, crossing your arms as you waited for her. She just looked at you until you lifted your eyebrows and tilted your head at her expectingly, causing her to make her way to you in an instant.

Yunjin's members were initially taken aback by your playful fights and constant cursing. They couldn't understand how two people could have such a unique relationship. But as time passed, they grew used to it and realized that was just how you and Yunjin expressed your love. Eunchae spent most of the time teasing you guys if she ever caught you being soft with one another, causing you to immediately push Yunjin away and create distance between you two. She would just look at you in disbelief, evoking giggles out of Eunchae and bringing a smile to your face at her reaction.

During practice sessions, they would exchange amused glances as they witnessed Yunjin and you in your element. Yunjin made it a full-time job to annoy the hell out of you, constantly provoking you any chance she got. Though, she would quickly regret it when you would chase her around the practice room, threatening to smack her with all of your might.

Nothing changed, even in your private moments. When you both were just cuddling on the couch, Yunjin did everything she could to get on your nerves. You shared whispered conversations filled with playful insults. "You're such a pain," You teased, poking Yunjin's side and causing her to shove your shoulder, grinning mischievously. "Shut up, you dork. You know you love me." You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance.

"Unfortunately.."

There was another instance where you both were on a date, finally being able to go out now that Yunjin’s schedule wasn’t as hectic. You sat across from each other at a cozy corner table in a quaint restaurant, your fingers brushing against each other as you took in your girlfriend’s beauty. Though, you couldn't help but notice Yunjin's gaze wandering towards your plate, her eyes fixed on the mouthwatering dish in front of you.

Your smile grew as you caught Yunjin's longing stare. The sound of your voice brought her out of the trance she was in, making her eyes shoot up. "You can ask for some, y’know.." You stated as you slightly leaned forward, causing Yunjin's cheeks to flush out of embarrassment. "I can't help it," she admitted sheepishly, her eyes never leaving your plate. "Your food looks so delicious."

Unable to resist teasing your girlfriend, your eyes sparkled with mischief. You delicately picked up a bite-sized portion of your meal with your chopsticks, slowly raising it towards Yunjin's lips. The anticipation in Yunjin's eyes grew, her lips parting in anticipation.

But just as Yunjin was about to take a bite, you swiftly diverted your hand and brought the morsel of food to your own lips, savoring the taste with a soft, contented hum. Yunjin's eyes widened in surprise, momentarily stunned by the unexpected twist. A pout formed on her lips, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. "That's not fair." She protested, feigning disappointment.

Your laughter filled the air, a delightful sound that melted Yunjin's heart. You leaned across the table, your eyes sparkling with a playful glint. "Well, you'll just have to order your own and experience the delight for yourself." You suggested, taking another bite shortly after and tilting your head mockingly. Yunjin couldn't help but smile, finding you to be cute even when you were being annoying.

“You’re so lame.” You looked her up and down, false judgement all over your face. “Me? Lame?” She mirrored your expression, as if she was questioning your lack of self awareness. “That’s you!” You pointed accusingly with your chopsticks, eliciting a loud laugh and clap from the raven haired girl in front of you.

“Me when I lie.” Yunjin brushed off her shoulder with a smirk you wanted to wipe off her face. “You’re dating the coolest person ever.” She declared, flipping her hair and flaring her jacket.

“I am literally dating a loser.”

She chose to ignore you and used her chopsticks to steal some of your food, closing her eyes and doing a little dance in her seat as she enjoyed the flavors bursting in her mouth. You bit back the smile that was threatening to reveal itself, instead watching her with fake disgust. She opened her eyes and stuck her tongue out at you.

“Well, you love this loser.” You sighed, nodding your head in defeat. You simply couldn’t deny that.

“That I do..”

[myun-saidthoughts]

Disorganized Attachment Style: What Happens When Someone Becomes "Consistent"

One thing no one talks about with a disorganized attachment style is the way your brain will automatically block and suppress feelings for someone once these feelings don't mirror the same pain you once felt growing up. Once they become somehow consistent for you, it can feel worse when they come to you because suddenly they don't fill your deepest void, and you'll ask yourself "do I still care?" "why am I not overly attached to this outcome anymore?" "I don't feel fear but I also don't feel this intense need for them, do I even want them?"

Struggling with a disorganized attachment style with abandonment issues creates this idea in your head where those questions causes deactivation and the desire for them, somehow vanishes.

The intense lows and highs that once persisted must always be there or the lack of will showcase a less desire for them.

Therefore a lack of fear = lack of interest.

You feel comfortable with the scarcity mindset, you feel comfortable with "'needing" someone, you feel comfortable with sitting in the uncertainty mindset with another, and so when you don't have that experience, there's a part of you that feels like they won't be able to give you the "fulfillment" feeling you think you always need in order to like someone.

The second they don't represent the self-belief that you are "not lovable," a part of you will flinch. You'll start to feel disgusted, sick, and even nauseous. This is the part of you that has never had the chance to look into someone's eyes with complete and utter trust; this is the part of you that hasn't held someone's hand with complete blissfulness and openness, and this is the part of you that hasn't looked into someone's soul without having fear being brewed in-between your bones.

The truth is, that "feeling" you are holding onto is just a "comfort zone" for you and this "comfort zone" keeps you from letting that one part of you that desires a true partner, out.

That feeling of not needing is something you're not familiar with, that feeling of being safe has been something you never had the chance to hold onto and so with it brings up the need of past patterns that you once subconsciously or consciously always held onto.

It's okay to not need someone, it's okay to not have this black or white mindset with other souls, and it's okay to just be okay in the moment and not have a constant rollercoaster of emotions embody you.

This "desire" you think you always need in order to feel emotionally safe is only because now it doesn't represent the home or care you received as a child.

You're comfortable with the highs and the lows so when someone you once felt you could lose no longer gives you that fear, somehow that need for them dissipates.

Now if you experience this, it doesn't mean that there's something wrong with you or that you can't fall in love, it just means you now are experiencing love or care in a way that you feel is unsafe because it's the love you've never had the chance to hold onto.

It's okay to not need someone.

[creepy-friday]

Creepypasta Jeff x Proxy fem!Reader

|"Good person"|

Warnings: angst,drugs mentions

"I need you to tell me that I am a good person" ~inspired by Bojack

"Jeff?" you asked the man next to the tree,his figure being shallowed whole by the shadows of the night.To be honest,you didn't expect the smiling killer to be out at the time you ended your demon hunt,was he high?

"I'm not fucking high." he broke the silence with an angry tone as if reading your thoughts."You're staring at me like you haven't seen a fucking-just,let me be,kay'?I fucked up a little,I need some time out.No jokes,no funny business,just leave to your witch hunt or something.." the pale man mumbled loud enough for you to hear.

Jeffrey sure was an odd individual,and without question he suffered some sort of mental illness,but you never pressed anyone to open up to you.It wasn't your job to be their therapist-but to calm down any outburts that would cause trouble.

This is the first time you have this much time to stare at him like that,the first time he doesn't have any spark in his eyes nor any blood on his clothes.

Instead of trailing off you noticed how he simply stared at his hands,a white dust being nearly visible on them.Did he lost his drugs?Was he having a withdrawal?Maybe he was injured and didn't want to tell you like a little bitch.

Your accusations were interrupted by the man's tears that started to trickle down his pale cheeks,falling down his sickly figure.

"I need you to tell me that I am a good person." he whispered,head titled down as his eyes moved from one place to the other,as if he was searching on the ground for a reason for you to respond.

Why did he need your approval?Why yours?Were you two even close to begin with in order for him to consider your opinion?

You clenched your jaw and continued to look next to him,sharing a comfortable silence yet to be filled with sadness.After a few moments the dark haired man suddenly moved his hands to wipe his tears."Sorry,that was a moment of uhh.." he continued to rub his hands on the pale skin of his face until he left red marks on it.

"Of weakness.Yeah.." he stood up,looking for a second in your eyes then focusing on the empty space next to you."fuck." his eyes grew wide then an expression of utter disgust mixed with despair appeared on his features

"Ah,FUCK!" his eyebrows furrowed as he moved his hand trough his dark locks.

"Jeff,calm down." the sudden response from you made him jump.

"I am calm-I am fucking calm." the memories of his 18 year old self flooded his mind,from the psychiatrist who told him to calm down to his brother.

"Listen,Y/N,just this once,do not talk to anyone about this.See,I am calm." he stated,voice as clear as ever as his eyes betrayed him."Forget this."

"Just..ha..I had my moment." he joked as he hurried past you,leaving you all alone.You didn't chase after him,but looked as he disappeared trough the trees.

Upon a closer look at the spot he used to sit on,you noticed one of his knives. Surprisingly,this one was clean and devoid of any red substances.Picking it up you further analysed it,deciding on which option was the best one-to give it back to the killer or to leave it be-like you left him hanging on his question.

[rreskk]

Dear ol' Trev

I'm experimenting with heavier topics, like smut. So if you're sensitive to the subject of "BDSM", don't read! I'll be answering requests soon enough, thank you for being patient :)

Summary: Trevor was untamed and aggressive. There was only one way to force him out of that toxic mentality.

TW: -heavy smut (BDSM) -Violence (Death threats)

Pairings: Dom!Fem reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 2971

For the past three days, he has been unrightfully slaughtering every flaw he deceives, and the judgement has been clashed onto you. So for the past three days, you’ve been verbally insulted with every fibre of his body. Reason complied? Unknown. You haven’t recalled doing anything wrong, or anything to cause this spike of anger. Alas, you have been nothing but idle for the past days. He hasn’t made the effort to conversate, fuck, treat you with dignity. Ever since he came home from Los Santos, he’s been ugly and obscene.

You’ve tried to argue against this sudden aggression, challenging his authority, and it would get physical. Right now, he was more than physical. You had lost your temper and called him every name under the sun and he was provoked beyond belief. His face was red, eyes filled with angry tears, fists clenched as his nails would pierce the skin underneath. Trevor stood an arms-length away from you, his eyes burning daggers into yours.

“Say that again.” His voice hoarsely demanded.

“You heard me.”

“You little shit.” Trevor croaked, his vexation becoming hostile.

You raised an eyebrow, “What’s the problem? I don’t see a lie.”

His lips twitched into a snarl and he grabbed the collar of your shirt, threatening to toy you around. His neck and arm veins were pulsing. You wondered if he strained anymore, they may burst.

“Keep your mouth shut. You’re pissing me off, big time.”

“You’ve been pissing me off for the last 72 hours.”

“You don’t say?” He cruelly hissed, “And you repay that by insulting me, [y/n]? You think it’s funny abusing dear ol’ Trev?”

“Cut that creepy shit out. You’re disgusting – “

“Ohhh… Complaints, complaints, complaints. You always FUCKING complain.”

“Maybe you should take the fucking hint and MAN UP!” You shouted in his face, “The moment your revolting scent arrived at my door after a week of no calls or texts, you had the audacity to operate and belittle me? Like what? I was some slave? Oh yeah, what a lovely man dear ol’ Trev is. What a lovely cunt!”

“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”

“Just get out, seriously – “

Trevor pushed you back violently as he threw his arm over the dining table, all the plates and clutter falling onto the floor with a big crash. You glared at him after finding your balance.  He maintained that deep scowl, eyes not leaving yours as it went silence, only the background noise of glass crunching under his work boots.

“How fucking dare you.” You heaved, the energy you have left slowly running out.

“You gonna complain again, sugar?” Trevor tongued as you saw the strands of his saliva spit with vemon.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I know you,” He continued, “You wouldn’t last a week without me.”

“Me? Really? Please! That’s utter bullshit.”

“Yeah… Really.” At this point, Trevor was breathing down on you, his arms locking you against the wall behind. He began to smirk at how trapped you were. He enjoyed seeing you covered in his shadow with that nasty look in your eye.

You tried to lean away, despite his nudges. His hands began leaving achy bruises on your wrists, them cruel fingers spreading his disease while you avoided the discourse of his intoxicating breath. It smelt like death. Your throat numbed at the inhale of his mucky scent, and before you knew it, he lowered his head and began to combatively whisper slander in your ear.

“I ain’t leaving, prick. I am not leaving this place until it’s fuckin’. You hear me?” His hot breath antagonising your neck.

“Get off me, Trevor.”

“No, I think you like it.”

“You fucking pervert!”

His voice rumbled, “Mmm… Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just a burden, a pervert, a creep. Maybe I just wanna bash your fuckin’ head in? What do you think about that, baby? Sounds good?”

You striked his cheek suddenly, his frame falling back at the impact. Trevor held his cheek with a disturbed expression, his eyes wide. Your hand stung with succession as you gave him a gnarly grin.

“I think that’s a great idea, Trevor,” You said, approaching him, “Maybe I should bash your fucking head in,” Your left hand rapidly grasped his jaw before he could fight back, “And you’ll definitely enjoy it.”

“The fuck? –“ He whinged when you grabbed his neck and jaw.

“What’s the matter? It’s not nice being treated like a dog, isn’t it?” Your other hand jolted forwards, hitting his cheek again where a small cry of pain left his lips.

“Fuckin’ stop!”

“You are going to pick up every shard of glass on this very floor. If you don’t, I’m kicking your ass goodbye. You got that?” You shouted in his flushed face.

Trevor threw your hands off, a look of disgust painting his face. He studied you up and down, a sense of uncertainty behind those unstable eyes.

“You’re taking the shitting piss, [y/n]. I’m not doing that.” He mocked.

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Really?” You licked your teeth, “I think you are.”

He sent you a hefty glare, “The fuck are you playing?”

“You want to play?”

“What? – “

“Okay, Trevor. If you really wanna play.” Within a second, Trevor felt his trousers being torn off as he cried out in surprise. His hands automatically covered his bulge but you slapped them away, your fists threatening to interrogate his crotch.

“[y/n], fuck off!” He demanded, fighting against your hands.

“No, I think you like it.” You reflected his words from before, smirking.

“Stop! – “ His voice wobbled with vulnerability. He bellowed forwards and tried to pull his trousers up until his underwear was confiscated as well. Trevor gritted his teeth, seeing you enjoy the struggle he was going through when his cock was on display. He noticed you were grinning at his exposure, feeling fragile and insecure, “C’mon – this ain’t funny. Fuck off!”

“Awh…” You teased and allowed him to scatter, his trousers clumsily being buckled up again. He did not look happy. Trevor’s nostrils flared as he stared at you with raw fury.

“You think this is funny?” He shouted, “You’re a fuckin’ cunt!”

“Easy…”

“EASY? YOU TELLING ME TO BE EASY?”

“You always liked showing yourself off. What’s so bad about it now?” You questioned, smirking up at him.

Trevor stumbled backwards, his feet stomping on the shards of glass that he littered. One piece made a crunching sound from under his foot. He gazed up to see if you had noticed, biting his lip when you stared heavily; watching his every move like a vulture feasting on it’s future prey, the impulsive climax barely containing itself.

His lips snarled when you spoke again, “I heard it – you heard it.”

“I ain’t cleaning.” He responded, crossing his arms.

“Why not?”

“Because I ain’t. You can’t make me.”

“Oh, okay.” You hummed and dismissed the conversation, turning your back.

Trevor smirked when he thought you backed away from the argument. He uncrossed his arms and whistled, singing your name as he placed his foot over a broken frame of you and him. Once he had gained your attention, Trevor licked his lips and pressed down, breaking the picture even more – clearing wanting a strong reaction, as he found it enjoyable.

You felt something stab your gut when he pathetically destroyed the only good picture of you both. And he smiled after it broke. It made you distressed, furious, hated. He stood there carefree, his belt still loose from your stunt beforehand, making him look like a golden stud. A golden stud you wanted to hammer.

“Whoops.” He winked, rotating away from the living room before a hard-hitting hand clenched his shoulder, launching him backwards and onto the rumble of glass. Trevor cried out, his skin scratched and prickled by the mess he made.

You stood over him and stared down; no sign of pleasure nor happiness. He cursed your name as he tried to stand up from the pile of shards but your foot sent him flying down again. It crushed his lower stomach, his breathing becoming unhinged and erratic. Extending weight onto your foot, his hands wrapped around your ankle, begging for you to get off.

“Fuckin’ get off!” He pled repeatedly.

Of course, it didn’t convince you. Your foot dug into his torso until he was threatening to lose his ability to breathe. Waiting for the moment Trevor’s eyes would portray the seconds left of his near-death experience, you released the pressure, and he frantically crawled to his knees, wailing for some air. He mercilessly wailed, believing he was on the road to death by your strangulation.

“Why are you crying?” You degraded, grabbing his hair and forcing his knees to kneel against the glassy carpet.

Trevor panted. His head being forced to look up, staring directly towards your thighs. He didn’t say anything but whined when you’d occasionally tug his hair, trying to pressure some rise out of him.

“C’mon… You’re feeling shameful now, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, still being stubborn.

“You like being on your hands and knees, Trevor?”

He whined again.

“Why don’t you get the fuck up?” You smirked.

“I hate you,” He finally mewled, “I’ll kill you!”

“Get the fuck up then.”

Trevor struggled, trying to use his weak arms but you only pushed him back down with a laugh.

“[y/n]!” He snapped.

“What?”

Your fingers tickled his scalp, falling down his back, reaching the hem of his trousers as he remained on his all fours, having a hard time keeping balance due to the amount of scratches and impaled glass in his skin. Nonetheless, your fingers tickled him. Trevor felt his trousers being pulled down again, and he dropped his head, whispering profound insults that definitely included the words “evil”, “witch”, and “bitch.” But you didn’t care. You waited until his ass was exposed and his cock dangling between his legs. He was shaky, unsure of what you’re about to do. He wanted to stand up, but your grip on him only tightened and his knees were too weak. Did he beg you to stop? No. So you only made it harder for him.

Very hard.

“Fuck… The fuck you doing to me?” Trevor murmured in pain.

“If you wanna ruin my home, you can be ruined with it.” You said before kicking your shoe against his exposed cock, making him jump and cry out in agony.

“FUCK!”

“You like that?” His whole arousal was being beaten with your shoe again, the repetitive kicks destructing Trevor’s last ounce of his aggression.

“FUCK – I HATE YOU! – “ He’d cry, tears oozing down his red cheeks as you kicked him from behind again.

“You deserve so much more hate,” You huffed – his cock and balls being left swollen and bruised, “I’m giving you the bare minimum of it. You should thank me, Trevor.”

It ended with his face crazing against the glass-scattered floor, his cheek embedding deep wounds as he wails from the pain of his genitals being physically abused. He attempted to cover his cock but you slapped his hands away, kicking him one last time before giving him a minor break.

He collapsed, body sprawled out.

The glass was ignored now. You stepped over him, your shadow overcasting the menacing danger of your touch. Trevor, with his eyes closed, felt the shade and spoke through his condition, his voice crackled and fable – like an emotional child begging for some hugs after a traumatic nightmare.

“I’m not thanking… I’m not! Not thanking – you! Kick me again, I fuckin’ dare you! I’m never – FUCK!” You obeyed his request and pressed the soul of your shore against his manhood, crushing until it went numb.

“You never give up, baby…”

He whimpered with is nose stuffed in the carpet floor.

“Wish you’d last this long in bed.” You ended.

Trevor’s head jerked up at the mention of you judging his struggle to hold. He gritted his teeth and aimed to spit, unsuccessfully watching the saliva reach barely half way as you just watched with a frown. A piece of clammy drool fell from his lips, dropping onto the floor, along with his tears.

“And what was that for, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sensitive topic?”

“FUCK YOU!”

You grabbed his waist and forced him to his knees again. Trevor tried to resist but fell into your hands, murmuring complaints about the pain. He winced, trying to face you. But yet again, he failed. And he was beyond angered at his power being taken away.

“This is not FUCKIN’ funny, baby,” He whinged, “I hate you so much sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You grinned.

“Mm, shut the fuck up…”

“C’mon. Admit it.”

“I said; shut the fuck up!”

“Fucking man up, Trevor. You’re on the floor with your cock fucked and your knees asleep – what are you gonna do? Encourage me to enjoy this more?” You caressed the back of his neck.

“Keep on going…” He whispered, almost quiet enough for you to miss.

“Sorry?”

“Keep going.”

A small smirk twitched and you crouched down, Trevor hesitantly putting his chin on your knee as he looked at you with an angry but lustful stare. He tried to lean closer, wanting a kiss, but he was refused and grunted when you dropped his head onto the floor again. He hit the floor and cursed your name menacingly.

“Fuck you, baby! I want you!”

“You wanted this, Trev?”

“Shut the fuck up and kill me already! Just end my life, make me cry!” He protested with desperation.

“You’re gonna be a man and last long for me?”

He nodded his head, “I wanna last long for you.”

“And you’re going to apologise? – “

“[y/n]! Please, just help me already!” Trevor complained and returned to his knees and hands, his dick burning red.

You laughed and shook your head with a small grin. Now that he was vulnerable and eager for your touch, it made it easier to gain a reaction. Your knee pressed against his backside and you forced him up, his back grinding against your thigh. Trevor closed his eyes as he felt your arms wrap around him, the skin-contact trailing from his stomach, closer to his arousal. He twitched with excitement, his hair mangled and skin tattered with oozing blood.

“So good for me, baby.” You praised and hugged his cock with your cold hands, massaging the tip and roughly mishandling the length to ensure your power is still prominent.

His whole body shook at your touch and he groaned when you demanded him to keep his hands away. It took some courage to follow your authorities, but it was worth it when you began stroking him, caressing his sore skin.

“Yes…” Trevor breathed, “Yes… Yes, that’s right.”

“You wanna be rubbed like the pervert that you are?”

“I’m a fuckin’… God! Yes!”

“Tell me how bad you want it, Trevor.”

He struggled to speak, “I – I… Oh, fuck… M’yeah. C’mon… Fuckin’ faster! Now! – “ Then he paused, dread clogging his throat when you clenched his cock.

“You want to continue being a little fucker?” You hissed in his ear.

“No… No, ma,” Trevor felt it get tighter as he whimpered, “I’m your fucker… I’m your pervert, God!”

“Say my name.”

“[y/n]…”

“Prefer me being in charge, baby?” You giggled, not used to seeing him so submissive.

“I love being treated like a rape toy, mommy!” And he had lost the plot, so emerged in his attraction.

You rubbed him harder and faster, your lips pressing down his neck as he was moaning frantically. From the way he was so stiff and hot, it was clear he had been holding a semi for a long, long time. It made you smirk. Trevor was so pathetic. He made it harder for himself – just so he could feel some pleasure in the end.

“I’m gonna cum – “

“What did I say?” Your lips moved against his skin.

“I – “ Trevor rolled his eyes back and dramatically growled, his hips jerking and cock twitching.

“Don’t cum yet.”

He panted, “Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you, I love you!”

“Easy. Concentrate on me, baby.”

“All for you, ma. All for you!”

“You’re so hard, sugar.” You held his body weight so he was forced to deal with you edging him. Even though he was erratic and fierce, you managed to keep him in check and he remained huddled in your arms, his cock being molested by your hands.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” He sobbed.

“You’re such a slut, Trevor.”

“Ohhh… Fuuuck!” His words mingled for so long that it would crack. Then it went silent before his body spazzed, his dick delivering a huge load of cum that squirted onto the floor that was stained with damp tears, blood, glass.

He had silently cried through the orgasm. You looked at Trevor, his face scrunched and tongue hanging out like a dog. You had overstimulated him too much that climaxing had become a huge revolution, almost as though he transported through time.

“All good, baby?” You asked.

It took a few seconds before he nodded.

“You sore?”

He nodded again, chest heaving in and out.

“Good boy…” You kissed his cheek.

“You’re killing me,” Trevor airily slurred, “You almost killed me.”

“I know.”

“Fuck… Fuck! Fuck you… That was so hot…”

“You gonna clean up now?”

“[y/n]!” He whined tiredly, “You punished me enough, baby…”

You’d smirk, “Fine. You’ve proven how much of a baby you are. I wouldn’t want to cross the line and over exhaust you.”

“Fuck you.”

“And stop insulting me. Who’s house are you in?”

“…Yours.”

“So treat this place with respect, and me.” You warned.

Trevor gave you a playful glare before nodding, “Fuckin’ fine…”

“Now stand up. You reek.”

[cozzzynook]

“Hummel?”

“Hm?”

“Vhat are jou eating?”

Looking down at the bowl in his hands filled with glowing purple energon with a few pieces of zinc and melted aluminum coating it.

His hummel was taking his time slowly chewing away with a content sway of yellow and black pedes as he sat on his lap. A little hum every few clicks as he chewed on the metals before popping a piece of energon to his dermas.

Blitzwing tried to hide the disgust in his eyes as he realized his Hummel had sprinkled a spicy flake into the dish. His hummel never ate anything spicy nor did he caee for sweets surprisingly. The one who liked spicy foods was Random and Hothead while he was the one who enjoyed sugary treats.

His hummel preferred savory over anything else so why exactly was eating something both himself and his other personalities would enjoy all combined into one?

A whirr sounded and Random suddenly yelled with manic laughter, “Jour food is so outlandish mein buggy bee vhat gives?!”

A chubby cheeked pout rests on Bumblebee’s faceplate and a shade of blue colors his cheeks. The bowl of fuel shifted as Bumblebee started to scoot off Blitzwings once comfortable lap. He slapped the servo that tried to stop him by cupping his protruding tank but Bumblebee was having none of it.

“Hummel?”

The change in the accents thickness told him it was Icy talking to him again but he didn’t care. His em fields were swinging with his mood and as tight as he tried to keep them Blitzwing took notice.

“I am sorry hummel, please eat jour..food resting on me, hm?”

There was a moment of thought flittering through Bumblebee’s optics before he huffed and nodded. It was easy for Blitzwing to lift Bumblebee back in his lap, his hummel may have gained quite a bit of weight from carrying but he was still no closer to being Blitzwings frame or size.

Putting a servo beneath Bumblebee’s plump mesh tank Blitzwing rubbed his hummels side when he felt the little mech in his arms shift uncomfortably. The warmth his hummel radiated as he melted into him tugged at his dermas slightly and if he splayed his other servo on the left side of his bugs tank to try and feel their sparkling move he wouldn’t deny it.

“You know its still too early for you to feel them move. I can feel them turning, I think, because i’m carrying them you still have another month or two,” Bumblebee sighed as he leaned into Blitzwing’s warm touch. His war framed mech began to gently rub the soreness away on his left side and hip plating and all his attention began to drift away from his fuel and annoyance to comfort as he felt his frame grow sleepy.

“I know that but I still want to feel jou, jou feel incredibly soft and jou look beautiful like this. I can’t help myself,” Blitzwing uttered his admission lowering his helm to kiss the tip of Bumblebee’s horn. “I can’t get enough of seeing jou carry our sparkling, jou’ve never looked more beautiful hummelchen.”

“If you weren’t my conjunx I’d slap you,” Bumblebee moaned as he felt Blitzwing’s servo rub the sensitive plating above his tank. There was a noticeable dent that he’d yet to have fixed, their little sparkling war frame just loved to kick now that they’ve developed stabilizers and every early morning Bumblebee felt the joys and brunt of it.

“Jou vouldn’t hit me hummel, it vould be unwise to hurt the bot massaging all jour pains away,” in the past Blitzwing would’ve said little but with his hummel’s proneness to emotional swings, he wasn’t about to chance it. Besides, he was plenty content to touch along his sparkmates growing mesh to his sparks content. He couldn’t get enough of feeling their sparkling press tiny servo’s that would one day be large as his against his own.

Blitzwing was already in the process of making plans on how to convince his hummel to have more sparklings in the future. He was sure he could win him over, so long as their sparklings emergence wasn’t too long and painful.

“Get that thought out of your processor right now, I am not doing this again,” Bumblebee grumbled swatting at his sparkbond lazily. He shifted his hip plates again and Blitzwing let him, moving to rub his digit along the tender plating while bringing his other servo to cup the underside of his tank. That brought a long sigh from his vents as he felt his sparkling lean into their sire’s palm giving momentary relief on his back strut.

His optics felt heavy and his frame grew warm as it completely sagged against Blitzwing’s chassis. Bumblebee could feel the familiar thrum of that purple and blue spark against his helm and horns. He couldn’t help but loosen his grip on his fuel bowl as he entered a light doze between recharge and floating in aware bliss.

He didn’t hear anything break nor fall to the ground so he assumed Blitzwing caught it with his servo, the quiet clatter of the dish being set down told Bee he was right and the warm servo once again cradling his tank had him turn putty as a limp frame doll.

While he couldn’t see the loving gaze his sparkbond rested on him, he and their sparkling could feel it.

It was enough to make him possibly consider experiencing this again, possibly.

But Blitzwing didn’t have to know that just yet.

-

Tell me what you think, I hope you all enjoy 🥰 i’m working on beewavewave & a miroah post too ^•^