cosmicmunsonwrites · 3 days ago
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i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night
bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader
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cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short
summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.
a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.
you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.
the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.
this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.
when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.
once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.
“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”
you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”
your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.
he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.
you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.
he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”
you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”
he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”
“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.
he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”
you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.
you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.
he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 days ago
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How do you think Nanami would announce your pregnancy to Gojo and the jujutsu high cast…. Possible fic idea?
Rainbow Baby
Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, TW- mentions of a previous miscarriage, (is not described, but it’s heavily referenced), grief, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, happy ending that you and nanami deserve.
An: This is def not the fic that I accidentally wrote about the wrong character for. I definitely did not write this entire fic about Satoru before rereading your request and seeing that you clearly wrote for Nanami.
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Nanami is a private man — not secretive, just private. While he loves when you visit school to see him because your presence eases his weary mind, he doesn’t flaunt you around to his coworkers. It’s honestly just a known thing around the school that Kento has a very pretty wife who he doesn’t introduce to anyone.
There is only one exception to the rule: the man who isn’t afraid of anything and has no concept of social boundaries, Satoru Gojo.
Nanami watched in utter disdain as Satoru always found a way to inset himself into yours and Nanami’s conversations. He never bothered to hide how much Gojo gets on his nerves.
However, Satoru gets a pass. Nanami may shoot him death glares and give him short, irritated responses, but Nanami will never shoo him away.
Satoru gets a pass because he was the one who made sure you and Nanami didn’t drown in grief when you two lost your first little one.
Nanami hadn’t even told anyone that you were pregnant yet — it was so early on. You two were still enjoying keeping it a small secret between you two. However, Gojo picked up on it immediately after seeing you. You weren’t showing, but he could see the small bundle of yellow and orange energy radiating from your tummy with his six eyes.
To Nanami’s surprise, Satoru didn’t make a huge deal out of it. He shook Nanami’s hand while whispering a quiet congratulations into his ear. Nanami laughed as he realized that Satoru knew, and he pulled the white haired male into a hug.
Satoru immediately knew something was wrong when Nanami didn’t show up for work the next week. Deciding to check up on his friend, he stopped by yours and Nanami’s house.
Nanami looked like a wreck compared to his normally put together self when he answered the door. His skin was pale, dark bags under his puffy red eyes from crying. He was wearing a shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked even worse…
Satoru didn’t need an explanation whenever the small bundle of energy was no longer present in your tummy.
If it wasn’t for Satoru, Nanami was sure that the grief was going to consume both of you. You were… you were understandably a wreck, and Nanami was so heartbroken himself that he struggled to hold you together. He was the man of the relationship, but he lost a child too. He had to witness his wife go through the worst pain imaginable, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Satoru checked up on you two often. He never mentioned what he knew, which was comforting. He was just always there with a kind smile and food plus desserts. Even though you and Nanami barely would eat anything, Satoru would come over anyways.
He was the only thing constant and stable in yours and Nanami’s lives. He was the only one who knew, and he helped you two out with a level of empathy and care that Nanami didn’t know he was capable of. The house would get cleaned. Food would be served. Different bills and other miscellaneous items ended up being paid.
Soon, the grief became easier to deal with. You and Nanami learned how to cope with the loss and start living again. The grief books lie by the way. You never truly get over the loss of a baby. You just learn how to live with the subtle ache in your heart.
It sneaks up on you sometimes. You see a small baby on tv, and you’re in shambles. Nanami watches Kusakabe announce his wife’s pregnancy, and he has to excuse himself to the restroom for a breather.
Satoru spent father’s and mother’s day with you and Nanami. It’s not like he had any family to celebrate with anyways. He brought you two gifts - making sure to remind you two that you are still parents. Your little one just isn’t on this earth.
So when you see those two pink lines on a test a year later, you feel your heart stop. You can’t take another heartbreak. You’re so scared; you don’t even want to tell Nanami. You two weren’t exactly trying for another baby, but you weren’t preventing one either.
You and Nanami celebrated, cried, laughed, rejoiced, mourned, grieved, every emotion hit you two like a truck when you revealed your pregnancy to him.
You don’t stop by the school for a little while. You and Nanami are both not ready for Satoru to find out… especially not during the first trimester when it’s possible that miscarriage can happen again…
Once you hit 20 weeks and know the baby’s gender, you finally think it’s time to let Satoru know. Nanami reluctantly agrees — also because Satoru has been hounding Nanami for weeks about where you’ve been. Satoru misses the cookies you’d always bake for him.
“Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Nanami asks the white haired male at work that evening. Satoru immediately perks up, knowing this is basically an invitation to come over.
“Nah, I was thinking about getting hot pot. Why?” Satoru asks, trying not to sound overly excited, but it’s a rarity when Nanami formally invites him over. He also hasn’t seen you in so long. He wants to spill all the new tea to you since you like that sort of thing, unlike Nanami.
“My wife baked those cookies you love so much. You should stop by tonight.” Oh, and Satoru was getting sweets? Hell yeah.
Though, the cookies wasn’t the biggest treat of the night. When Satoru enters your home behind Nanami, he walks to the kitchen where you’re standing over freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Your tummy is rounded, and there’s a strong accumulation of golden energy residing in you.
“You’re-!?” Satoru’s eyes widen and he flicks his head quickly between you and Nanami. Your husband playfully rolls his eyes, but his smile tells you everything you need to know. He’s proud to be announcing your pregnancy.
“Yes, she’s pregnant.” He answers with a laugh, and Gojo pulls him in for a tight hug. Even if Satoru lacks some social skills, he’s able to read people like a book. He knows that this is all you and Nanami have ever wanted — a little family to call your own.
Now, imagine his big blue eyes welling with tears when he sees the cookies have writing on them.
“Nice to meet you, Uncle Toru!”
Now, imagine how fucking ecstatic Nanami is when he finally gets the privilege to announce your pregnancy to the rest of the school. He’s private with his life, but after everything you two have been through, he happily announces your pregnancy to anyone — everyone.
Oh, and your baby girl, Satori, was born happy and healthy. Besides you and Nanami, Satoru was the first one to meet your sweet baby. Yes, he cried like he was the baby when he found out about her name.
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tsuutarr · 3 days ago
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Yandere!Hero (Chosen One) x Saint!Reader
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In all of his life, Elias only remembers crying once. It was when he was a young boy, no older than six years old. He had been taken to the Church for a baptism, only for his holy power and status as the Chosen One to be revealed. He had then been stolen from his parents and beaten black and blue until he was molded into the Hero that would save everyone.
Resigned to his role, Elias never allowed himself to feel any semblance of emotion. He only needs to fulfill the prophecy, after all. No one cares about who he is as a person, about him. They’ve put him outside to protect the borders of humanity by sacrificing his life. They’ve put a distance between him, parading him as a Hero while masking their selfish desires of having him take on the entire burden of bringing salvation to humankind. He is nothing more than a glorified sacrifice without the privilege of feeling emotions. 
But if that’s the case, why does his heart ache when he’s with you? Why does his stomach flutter? Why does a smile he had thought he lost in his youth come back when you’re around? Why does rage burn his fingers when you get hurt? Why do tears wet his cheeks when he holds your cold, lifeless body?
Please, please tell him that you’re just sleeping. Tell him that you’ll greet him when morning comes. Please, use your warm hands to brush his tears away. Tell him that it’ll all be okay.
Despite Elias’ ardent desires, the dead cannot comfort the living. 
“My child,” a voice from the Heavens calls, a beam of light surrounding Elias. “I thank you for your service.”
“Please,” Elias murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I cannot live without the Saint.”
The voice above is silent as it observes Elias, who cradles you in his arms like you’re his most important treasure. “I cannot change the hands of fate.”
“Then I will,” Elias responds. “Turn back time for me and I will find another way to seal the Demon Lord.”
“It does not exist. You will only put yourself through the same pain.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. As long as I can save the Saint.”
The voice from the Heavens is silent, before it says, “Very well. If that is your desire.”
And so, time is rewinded back to when Elias was a young boy. He once again goes to Church to receive baptism. He is once again shown to be the Hero. He is once again stripped from his parents and beaten black and blue, but this time, he does not cry. Instead, he looks forward so that he can find a way to save you.
But no matter Elias’ efforts, bad end after bad end follows his footsteps. No matter what he does, no matter what he changes, no matter what, bad ends are the only ends he meets with. A good ending where the world is saved and you are still alive just doesn’t exist. So, Elias has no choice, really. He’ll create his own bad end, except this time, the world will be sacrificed for you.
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ennn · 20 hours ago
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Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts
Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?
Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."
The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.
"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.
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Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."
That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.
Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.
I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.
Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.
The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).
Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.
Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.
Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.
Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.
Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.
Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.
"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.
Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.
Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.
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taeyongdoyoung · 1 day ago
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lobos, we cannot stop hunting
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summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k
"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.
"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."
"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.
You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.
"Can't you get more?" you ask him.
"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."
"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.
Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.
"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."
"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"
"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."
"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"
"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."
"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."
"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."
"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."
Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.
"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."
Little does he know it has already begun to rise...
"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.
Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.
As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.
He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.
You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.
Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.
"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.
"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."
"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."
Oh? Wait...OH!!!
"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.
"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.
"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.
Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.
"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."
"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.
Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.
Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.
"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.
"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.
You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.
Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.
"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.
"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.
It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.
"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."
Chan laughs cruelly.
"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.
It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.
"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.
"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.
"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.
"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"
"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.
"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.
"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.
"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.
You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.
"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.
Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-
"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.
Okay, not so sweet after all.
"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.
He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"
"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.
Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.
Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.
"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.
"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...
Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.
"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.
It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.
"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.
"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.
"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.
"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.
"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"
"Who needs sleep anyways?"
The End
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solarbird · 1 day ago
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I just want to get it out there that Elon Musk keeps saying – in words – that the Trump plan is to crash the economy. He keeps saying it, because he thinks it’s a good thing. Ordinary Americans will have to “embrace the pain.” People like him won’t have to do that, of course not!
But, you know.
You.
The little people.
Then and only then, after a big crash, will the economy be allowed to recover under what one supposes would be a new hyper-austerity regime.
From all historical experience, this “austerity” regime would really be a looter regime. It’d also be deflationary, which is great if you’re a billionaire and terrible if you’re everyone else, since most people will make less and less over time, while the billionaires will keep more and more since the rich won’t be paying any taxes, and the value of their stored wealth – their idle, uninvested, non-productive money caches – will increase all on its own.
The MAGA government would be gambling on the idea that American memory is so short that they’ll forget before the collapse.
Well, that, and…
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And I give this credence because, well, one, yeah, Trump’s plans will crash the economy. But I also give it credence because of something Trump said before even running for office. He said this:
When the economy crashes, when the country goes to total hell and everything is a disaster, then you’ll have riots to go back to where we used to be when we were great. – Donald J. Trump on Fox and Friends, 2014
Because Elon’s saying that’s the plan this time. It wasn’t the plan last time maybe, but it’s the plan this time. And “go back to where we used to be” was white supremacy with women as men’s property. That’s what he wants.
Trump’s Director of Whitehouse Personnel just today called to end voting rights for women, saying that women shouldn’t vote and that the 19th Amendment “might have to go.”
I mean really, at this point in the campaign, what people generally need to be focusing on is getting out the vote. But sometimes things happen that are big enough to talk about, like the explosion of race hate coming out of the Trump rally at Madison Square Garden on Sunday. And that raw hatred – and their doubling down on it on Monday and Tuesday – is the most important item this week, absolutely.
But for the “fuck you I got mine” crowd amongst your friends, particularly the ones who are perfectly happy to laugh at racial hate jokes and really kinda like it since hey, it’s not their problem, well…
I would think that intentionally crashing the economy might give them something to care about.
Just maybe.
Because Elon keeps saying it, out loud. Elon, who would be in a Trump administration, who would be the one doing the broad strokes of fiscal planning, keeps saying that they will crash the economy, and that they will do it on purpose.
That might be something to tell your more racist family and friends.
Maybe – just maybe – they’ll care about that.
5 days remain.
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morikasan · 1 day ago
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His Little Wife
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Summary: The thought of losing his beautiful student makes him realize his plan sooner… To marry you. With or without your consent, you are his.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI — Yandere Gojo, fem! Student reader, nicknames, size kink, age gap, forced marriage, Gojo is obsessed, teacher x student
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He could not bear it.
You were with Megumi all the time, at recess, in class, even after school. Seeing you with him was unbearably painful. Why didn't you look at him the way you looked at Megumi?
Why didn't you see his feelings? Because he was your teacher? Oh no, he didn't care.
Morality was not in his rules. He didn't care that you were his student.
He cared about you so much that he never sent you on challenging missions; he followed you home to ensure you got home safely. With all that, why are you doing this to him?
You were laughing with Megumi in front of him in class; were you trying to make him suffer?
He can't take it anymore.
He can't stand you ignoring him.
There must be a solution.
Oh yeah, he was going to marry you. And since you're his beautiful wife, you won't go to that school.
After all, he's the strongest and can always protect you.
He knows you are too young for marriage, but he doesn't care. He can't bear to see you with the Megumi any longer. And when you finish school, what if you become lovers with him? Worse, what if you marry him?
No, no, no, no.
He can't take that risk.
He'll arrange an engagement as soon as possible, followed by a wedding. The higher-ups will know.
And as for you. He doesn't care what you want.
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School was already over, and you were walking home sweetly. Ah, you were too cute even walking.
Unfortunately, it was very dangerous for a pretty and lovely girl like you to walk alone at this time of the evening.
That's why he was following you, to protect you from anything that might happen to you.
He's a very thoughtful teacher, isn't he?
But you still didn't like him, and he still didn't understand why. He was young, handsome, rich, and the kind of man many women chased after and longed to marry.
But you still didn't love him.
Maybe that's why he was in love with you; you were hard to get.
Finally, you got home, went inside, and closed the door slowly. And he was in front of your house.
Yes, he was.
This day would make everything clear.
He walked slowly towards your house, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. After one minute, you opened the door, and a smile spread across your face when you saw him.
"Ah, welcome, Sensei!
he smiled
''Greetings, Y/N-chan! I wanted to talk to you about something if you don't mind…''
His heart raced as he saw your smile. God, you were so cute for your own good. Your beautiful smile melted his heart.
You were going to be the death of him.
"Of course, Sensei." You replied, stepping aside to let him in.
When you entered the living room, Gojo sat on the couch and looked at you. His look was very different from a normal one, but you didn't mind—after all, he was your teacher.
"What did you want to talk to me about, sensei?
He smiled, took a deep breath and started talking
''Y/N-chan, you know I love you, right? Sensei always wants the best for you.''
You tilted your head to the side. Did he love you? Of course, he did. He was your teacher, after all, and every teacher loves their students, right?
''Y-yeah... Sensei always takes care of me."
A grin appeared on his face. He gently tapped his hand on his knee and gestured for you to sit on his lap.
''Of course, Y/N-chan. Now, come here''
The look in his eyes darkened, did he want you to sit on his lap? But that would be inappropriate... You started to get scared
Your heart raced, your mind conflicted as he gestured for you to sit on his lap. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.
"Umm... Sensei, I... I don't think that's a good idea." You stumbled over your words, your embarrassment and fear clear in your voice.
''Come. Y/N-chan.'' he was like a completely different person, he was smiling, but his gaze was frightening.
You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat as you looked into Gojo's now fierce gaze. Your body trembled, scared of his sudden change, but something about him made your heart race even more.
"Y-yes, Sensei." You hesitantly moved closer, slowly climbing onto his lap. Once settled, you looked down, keeping your gaze from meeting his.
"Good girl. Now let's get to the point. In a little while you'll be my wife.'' he said with a wry smile on his face as you sit nervously on his lap
Gojo's words caught you completely off guard.
"What? Wife?" You exclaimed in shock, your eyes wide with surprise.
You started to panic inside as you realized the situation you were in, his strong arms quickly wrapped around your waist, keeping you secure on his lap.
"Be calm, Y/N-chan. I can't have anyone else near you, and the best way to protect you is to marry you. Is it so hard to understand?" Gojo's voice was now stern, demanding obedience.
"I-I don't... I don't unde-"
You were cut off by Gojo's lips pressing against yours.
His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like you were drowning.
He was kissing you passionately, his grip on your waist tightening further.
You tried to push his head away, but his strength was too much for you to handle.
You tried to scream, to resist, but his lips were too firm.
You felt like you were trapped.
When he broke the kiss you tried to get off his lap in a panic, your body tingling, you were scared. You didn't want to get married yet, especially not to your teacher. It was so wrong.
''Let me go sensei, please let me go! A-And a-family won't let you—''
''Your family? Haha, how sweet of you, Y/N-chan.''
while you were trembling in his lap, one hand went to your soft, silky hair, stroking it as if soothing a dog and he said with a amusement smile on his face
"Your parents have already given up on you. They just threw you away in exchange for some money. Do you think they really love you? Do they care about you, hmm?''
You were shocked, you froze. with one hand in your soft hair, he leaned down slowly and whispered in your ear
''I'll tell you, they didn't give a shit about you. They gave you up for money and fame. I'm sure they're like, "Oh, our sweet going to marry Gojo Satoru, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, the leader of Gojo clan''
lie. lie lie lie lie lie
Your parents couldn't have given up on you. You didn't want to believe it
''If they really loved you, you would be with them right now. You're a high school student, but why do you live in a rented apartment instead of with your parents? Have they ever supported you, hmm?''
A torrent of tears flowed from your eyes, and your heart ached with the thought of your parents willingly giving you up.
"N-no… that's not true. My parents would never do that… t-they love me-" You argued weakly, your voice cracking with the force of your emotions.
you rested your head on his chest, you couldn't stand it. you started sobbing like a child. And he was stroking your hair.
"shhh, don't cry, pretty girl. From now on you don't need anyone but me.''
He kissed the top of your head, your body still shaking from crying.
''The higher-ups reacted positively to this marriage. Thanks to our technique, they think you and I will create a lineage of tremendous power. Ah, as usual, the old geezers only care about lineage.''
Your tears soaked through his clothes, and he continued to dote on you, his hand now caressing your backside in a way that made you uncomfortable.
Your delicate body tensed as his lips touched the top of your head, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
"I-I don't want to marry you."
Your voice shook, the fear and helplessness you felt oozing through your words. ''Please, Sensei, let me go.''
"I don't want to get married to you." You mumbled into his chest, your voice muffled by his jacket.
With these words, the smug grin on his face disappeared, and a dull expression took its place. With the hand that had been stroking your hair, he took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back.
''How much do you think I care about your consent, Y/N-Chan? You'd better stop this spoiled behavior, or I might not be so nice next time. Do you understand?'
You were scared; the way he looked at you was so cold. You missed your old sensei, the one who looked at you with soft eyes and that warm smile when he explained something you didn't understand.
You nodded quickly, swallowing hard to stop your sobs.
"I-I'm s-sorry."
The fear in your eyes was palpable, and you nervously clung to his clothes, your body shivering.
''Sensei... I promise I won't resist anymore.'' You whispered, your voice quivering with fear and sadness.
Gojo released his grip on your hair, and you fell forward, your face buried in his chest again. You could hear his heartbeat, rapid and robust.
''Good girl.'' He murmured, his voice softer now
''Now, we're going to the mansion. I can't wait to show my beautiful wife her new room!''
The cold man who was looking at you with dull anger just a second ago has returned to his cheerful demeanor.
He grabbed your small hand and dragged you out excitedly.
W-wait, sensei!" You called out, trying to keep up with his long strides.
"I-I need to pack my clothes!"
 he just waved his hand dismissively and continued walking.
"Oh, those old stuff? Forget about them. I'll buy you new ones. My wife deserves the best." Gojo said, his voice was cheerful
You were silent as you followed behind Gojo, your mind racing with the implications of what was happening.
You couldn't believe it.
You couldn't believe that your sensei, your teacher, your idol, would make you his wife.
You didn't know what to do.
You didn't know what to say.
You were completely lost.
A week had passed since you were taken from your school and your life, and you were still struggling to adjust. Your room, though luxurious, felt like a cage, a place where you were confined.
The thought of your former life made your heart ache, the memories of your school and dreams of becoming a wizard now shattered.
You wondered why Megumi hadn't contacted you, a flicker of sadness burning in your chest.
Why didn't he come looking for you? We were friends, wasn't he worried?
You were supposed to get married after hours…
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The time of your marriage loomed, and you sat on the bed, your eyes drawn to the exquisite wedding dress. It was the epitome of elegance and grace, but it represented something you never wanted.
Your hand reached out to touch the silken fabric, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.
Tears welled in your eyes as you recalled everything that had happened. The betrayal from your parents, the inaction of Megumi, and the forceful marriage to Gojo Satoru, a man you looked up to as a teacher.
But it wasn't what you wanted.
Everything hurt; your parents throwing you away like garbage, Megumi not looking for you, and… the teacher you admired forcing you to marry him.
But there was nothing you could do
This was your new life, and you had to get used to it…
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You inhaled deeply, steeling your resolve as you took hold of the wedding dress and began to put it on. It clung to your body, the fabric smooth and sensual against your skin.
Before long, you were fully dressed, the gown cascading around your feet like a cloud of snow.
Gojo entered the room, his gaze fixing on you. A smile curved his lips as he admired your appearance.
"You look stunning, Y/N-chan." He complimented, his voice a seductive purr.
He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulled you closer, capturing your mouth in a soft, deep kiss.
The sensation of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine. His nose brushed against yours, and he whispered, 
"God, you look so beautiful, Y/N-chan... I can hardly keep myself from taking you here and now."  He whispered against your cheek, the hunger in his voice unmistakable.
You flinched at his words, your body stiffening.
Gojo's hand slid down your side, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"P-please, sensei—" you stammered, your voice barely audible. "We still have the marriage ceremony."
Gojo chuckled softly, the sound filled with a mixture of lust and amusement.
"Okay, okay, pretty girl." He soothed, releasing your waist to take your hands in his.
A warm, affectionate smile softened his features as he met your eyes, love clearly etched in his gaze.
"Then, let's not keep our guests waiting any longer, shall we?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
You followed Gojo, your hand tightly gripped in his, as you left your room and went to the ceremony.
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The wedding ceremony had been long and draining, leaving you physically and emotionally exhausted. You stepped into your room, the door closing behind you, and your heart began to race
This was the part you feared the most.
''I love you so much, my wifey...''
Gojo's large hands slipped to your thin waist, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he began to unzip the wedding dress. It fell to the floor, the silken fabric pooling at your feet, revealing your lingerie.
His eyes lingered on your exposed breasts, his gaze hot and hungry.
''You're more beautiful than I ever imagined...''
Gojo removed his jacket and shirt, revealing his well-built chest. He let the jacket drop to the ground with a heavy thud. He then guided you to the bed, gently pushing you down onto it.
His mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and kissing as his fingers worked to take off your lingerie.
His voice was low and seductive, the words sending chills down your spine. "You don't know how long I've dreamed of this moment, Y/N. Touching your beautiful body, feeling your soft lips, and being able to call you my wife..."
His breath was hot against your skin, and the anticipation of what was to come quickly became overwhelming.
You squirmed beneath him, your innocence and inexperience leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. Your heart raced, a whirlwind of fear and confusion churning within you.
"Sensei..." You whispered softly
Gojo's hands paused in their task, his head tilting slightly as he gave you a confused look.
His smirk deepened, his laugh echoing through the room. "Now now, No more formalities. Don't be shy, I'm your husband now. Call me by my name~"
Gojo's words were confusing, but his tone was insistent, coaxing.
Your heart fluttered in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat.
"S-Satoru..." you whispered, barely audible.
Gojo's smirk turned into a smug grin. "That's my girl~"
Gojo moved even closer to you, his lips dangerously close to yours.
"Now, kiss your hubby."
His breath mingled with yours, and you could feel his warm, minty breath against your lips.
You felt a shiver run through your body as you anticipated his kiss.
His lips crashed against yours, the kiss rough and hungry, his hands moving to your breasts as if discovering new treasures.
His mouth claimed yours again and again as the kiss deepened, his fingers expertly playing with your sensitive nipples, the pleasure making you squirm under him.
"You taste so good, Y/N-chan," he purred as he broke the kiss ''Ah, if Megumi touched those soft lips, I'd probably kill him. No one can touch what's mine.''
He trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch lingering, his eyes dark with desire.
"I'm going to make you scream my name, Y/N-chan."
He kissed you again, the kiss growing rougher, more desperate.
"Right now." he growled.
His fingers left your breasts, trailing down to your belly, feeling the soft curves beneath the fabric still adorning your body.
He gripped the waistband of your underwear, tugging it down with a feral grin.
"Spread your legs for me, Y/N-chan. Let me see that sweet, pink pussy of yours."
The raw lust in Gojo's eyes left you trembling, unsure of what to do. He wanted you to expose yourself to him, to submit to his desires.
His free hand slid between your legs, his fingers trailing over your wetness.
"You're already wet for me, aren't you, Y/N-chan?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
You let out a soft, uncertain moan, your legs trembling as Gojo positioned himself at your entrance.
"Sen—...Satoru... P-please be kind, I-I've never done this before."
Your voice was small and shaky, betraying your nerves and innocence.
Gojo looked down at you, his eyes softening briefly before he shrugged. "I can't promise, little one. I need you so bad.''
He pressed forward, his cock sliding into your tight, wet entrance in one swift motion, your hymen popping, accompanied by a pained moan from your lips.
"Ah~" you cried out, tears glistening in your eyes.
Gojo's hands tightened on your hips, his face twisted with a mixture of ecstasy and concern.
"Fuck, Y/N-chan. You're so tight."
He waited for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his invasion before he began to thrust deeper into you, drawing loud, primal moans from his lips.
"I'm going to take you, Y/N-chan. I'm going to take you and make you mine," he gritted, his pace quickening.
His thrusts became more urgent, his eyes dark with need, your cries of pain and pleasure mingling in the room.
He bit his lip hard, his hips bucking, driving himself in and out of your tight, quivering body.
"Y/N-chan, look at me," he demanded, his voice guttural, "Look at me, and scream for your husband"
His fingers gripped your hips painfully, and he rammed into you, his cock pulsing, filling you with his essence as he came inside you.
You caught up in the raw intensity of the act and opened your eyes, staring up at him. Your expression was a mix of pain and surprise as he claimed your innocence.
His thrusts became more urgent, his eyes dark with need, your cries of pain and pleasure mingling in the room.
He bit his lip hard, his hips bucking, driving himself in and out of your tight, quivering body.
Gojo felt your tense body begin to quiver under him, your cries intensifying as your cunt stretched to accommodate his throbbing cock.
"Ah~!" you cried out, your voice tinged with pain, your eyes pleading with him as he ravaged your body. "Slow~ please slow~ it hurts."
"fuck, Y/N-chan," he groaned, pulling out of you slightly before thrusting back in harder.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice strained. But I can't... Nh~! Just hang in there, okay, sweetie? Your husband will make it up to you."
He continued to thrust into you relentlessly, his hips slamming against yours with a primal force.
"That's it, little girl, you're taking me so well," he praised softly, his voice laced with appreciation.
After minutes of pain, pleasure flooded your body, your beautiful pussy getting used to his cock, and the painful moans were replaced by small moans of pleasure.
Your back arched, your tiny body undulating beneath his, a newfound sweetness in the way his cock filled you completely.
"Who do you belong to, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice a low growl, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his cock stretching you with each powerful stroke.
"S-Satoru~" you gasped, the words tumbling from your lips, your petite body bucking, the pleasure radiating from your core.
You were his, in body and soul, your virginity claimed by the sorcerer who loved you.
His pace didn't falter, his hips slamming into yours, his cock pulsing inside you, his own pleasure building, his gasps and curses mixing with the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing your neck, his teeth grazing your tender skin, their possession marking you as his.
"Mine." he growled, his hips bucking, feeling his release approaching, a primal need to claim you in every way bursting within him.
Your petite body trembled, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your pleasure building with every thrust.
Gojo's hand cupped your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple, pulling it as he guck you deeper and deeper.
"Y/N-chan, Come for me." he demanded, his voice rough with the need to feel you break for him.
The pleasure building until it crested and crashed, your body convulsing, your eyes wide and glassy as your climax took hold.
His own release followed hot on your heels, his body shuddering, his seed filling you, the insides of your quivering pussy embracing him
Gojo fell beside you, his breathing slowing as he took your tiny body in his arms. You were visibly exhausted, the intensity of the experience weighing heavily on your fragile form.
He gazed down at you, his eyes softening as he ran a finger along your soft, pink cheek.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N-chan," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to make it up to you. We'll go shopping, buy you all the cute clothes you want. We'll have fun."
He knew it was all too sudden for you, all these changes. This marriage and the others... But he couldn't bear to spend another day without you.
The need to make you his, to possess and cherish you, had consumed him.
And the moment he saw you with someone else, that desire increased tenfold.
He held you close, your soft breathing a sweet sound against his ears, and vowed to himself that he would protect you.
He'll do anything to make you fall in love with him. You will get used to him, to this new life, to being his wife, and you will love him as he loves you.
After all, he is Gojo Satoru
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Fumi: like, write comments, and reblog if you liked this writing, sweetheart ♥
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zafirosreverie · 19 hours ago
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Call the exorcist (Agatha x F!Reader)
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For @roseclear
a/n: I haven't watch the show, I just know the basics, so sorry for any plot mistakes.
Spoilers for the ending
______________
Your life was chaotic. From the moment you met that damn charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch, your whole world did a 180.
From one day to the next, magic was not only something possible, but little by little, it became something common in your life. Something you got so used to that you thought nothing could surprise you anymore.
Rule number one of being married to a witch: Agatha Harkness can always surprise you.
You weren't stupid, you knew she didn't tell you absolutely everything, that there were parts of her past she would never tell you, that they were completely buried and she planned to keep them that way. Not that it bothered you, if you were honest. 300 years of life had to have hard moments, and you decided that you wouldn't push her any further than she felt comfortable sharing you.
Still, that damn woman always managed to give you gray hairs, and you were sure that one of these days she would put you in an early grave. But you still loved her, more than life itself.
______________
The first scare was when she disappeared to go to Westview. You had a hard time getting in touch with her, and she only gave you a hasty and poorly structured explanation about chaos magic before sending you back home.
A week later, Maximoff's escape and what she had done to the town was reported on the news. You came back as quickly as you could, but you couldn't do anything. You were forced to watch your wife live as Agnes for 3 years, powerless and weak to bring her back.
Then the boy showed up. Billy Maximoff, or at least a variant of him? A reincarnation? The truth was that you didn't quite understand, nor did you care. The only important thing was that Agatha was back. And with her, chaos. Of course.
God forbid you have a second of peace with your wife.
The coven, Rio, Billy, everything was too confusing, too much for your mortal mind to understand in all the details how quickly the situation was changing, and Agatha, in the middle of it all, the central pillar, was not much help.
You knew she didn't tell you everything, but that she had gotten involved with death or that she had a child should have been some of the things she could have tell you, right? At least you thought that something like that should be important enough to tell her new wife.
You hadn't even finished assimilating all that when your witch, always chaotic and without explanations, kissed Rio, lady death, to save Billy. You didn't even have time to say goodbye to her, or to assimilate that, just like that, from one moment to the next, you had become a widow.
You didn't think you had known greater pain in your life. Knowing that your wife, the woman you loved, as imperfect, chaotic and evil as she was, was no longer there, broke your heart. You couldn't even stay there for long, you went back home as soon as you could, desperate that everything was a damn nightmare, that when you opened your eyes, Agatha would be there, with that infuriating but beautiful smile that you loved so much, ready for a new chaos.
But no matter how many times you woke up, reality was still there. Agatha was dead, you were alone. And your wife wasn't coming back.
_______________
…until she did.
________________
You calmly stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stress of the day, the worries and sorrows. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus for a moment on the feeling of the water against your skin, the warmth of the steam and-
"AGATHA!!!" you screamed as you jumped up, and your wife still had the nerve to laugh.
It had been less than a week since Agatha Harkness had come back into your life, ready to turn it upside down again. At first, you thought you had finally lost your mind (sometimes you still thought that it was the case, to be honest), when the ghost of your dead wife appeared in the middle of the living room.
However, in true Agatha fashion, she began to cause all kinds of mischief around the house, moving things around, disarranging things, and giving you those damn kisses that you still couldn't decide if you loved or not. And that was all you needed to know that yes, your wife was back. In the form of a pile of ectoplasm with too much time on her hands and too eager to take you to the grave too, but she was back.
"Come on sweetie, you can't blame me" she laughed, floating closer to you "you know I've never been able to resist your…charms"
You shivered as her fingers, cold and not quite physical, ran down your lower back. Before you could protest, Agatha kissed you deeply. Kisses with her were very strange now, to say the least.
Not that they bothered you, you just still had to get used to the feeling of kissing an ice cube that you couldn't really touch but was at the same time as real as yourself. You never imagined kissing a ghost, but here you were, proving once again how much you loved this woman even in death.
"You're a menace" you said as she pulled away
"But I'm your menace" she smirked
"…we said 'till death do us part', why are you still here?" you crossed your arms, covering your naked body a little
"Oh darling" she laughed and caressed your cheek with those icy fingers "it's cute how you really thought death would rid you of me. No, my love, you're mine, in this and every life after"
Something in her tone and the way her ghostly fingers gripped your chin, told you that she really planned to keep that promise. And you couldn't help but smile.
"That's cute, my love" you said "…but get out of my shower right now"
"Oh come on" she laughed "I've seen you how tou came into the world many times"
"Agatha!" you shivered as you felt her icy fingers on your lower back again
"Yes?" She smiled like the Cheshire Cat
"I love you" you said "but if you don't let me take A FUCKING SHOWER IN PEACE, I'M GOING TO CALL A PRIEST AND EXORCISE THE DAMN HOUSE!!"
And of course, that damn beautiful, charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch that you loved more than life itself, had the nerve to laugh.
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hereforthehitsbaby · 3 days ago
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Silver Lining | Worst!Logan Howlett x F!Reader
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Synopsis: Logan was too familiar with depressive episodes, spending years stuck in his own. He never wanted you to feel the way he did, he wanted to take your pain away. 
Warnings: ANGST, like no joke this is just straight up angst/whump with a somewhat happy ending, not character angst but reader angst – or at least that is what I think it would classify as?, mentions of mania, mentions of mental illness, reader screams at everyone and tries hard to make people hate her because she thinks she deserves it, mentions of depression, reader has a depressive episode, crying, self-doubt, mentions of unavailing oneself, language,
Rating: M
Word Count: 3.9K
Author’s Note: You know, at times when there are things you cannot tell anyone about, you write. This happened to be that moment for me. Also I know I said this was going to be angsty but I don't think I did the angst justice enough. I'm not used to writing it so I apologize if it's not full blown whump.
Tagging(?): @battermyheart @plagued-kitty @cxrrodedcoffin @babygorewhore @strangererotica
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“I fucking hate you, leave me alone!” You scream at your apartment door, hearing Wade on the other end banging harder. You didn’t mean any of the words, you wanted to take them all back, you wanted to say you’re sorry and move on. Your hands reach out to tangle in your hair, pulling roughly at the root. Growls of agony and pain tear from your throat as you drop to your knees on the plush carpet, rocking back and forth. “Let me go, please let me go!” None of your words made sense, they felt foreign on your tongue as the pounding got louder, as the screams turned sour. The world faded to black as your head hit the carpet, your throat raw – straining against your sorrows. Footsteps echoed like snow on a winter’s night; The silence was not comforting. Bloodied fists fell beside your face, and Laura’s soft words lulled you to sleep. “We will be here when you’re ready. Please, take care of yourself.”
No one expected that a day full of laughing and bonding would take a hard left turn. No one knew what hid beneath your surface, they never realized how bad it was getting. All they saw was smiles and sunshine radiating off of you, never knowing they were caused by pain. You thought you were getting better, that you weren’t faking it this time – unfortunately your brain never got the memo. None of your words held any meaning; You knew that but you were worried your friends might not. Then again, day one you did tell Wade to not get attached – that was for his own sake when one day you were no longer here. It was an unspoken song in your head – it never rang true but certain times felt like it would, that it may.
Peter’s party was supposed to be fun, celebrating his anniversary of a year with B-15. A full day planned by Wade and Laura. Logan and you were made to keep them both busy for a while, while Al complained about the constant smell of latex balloons. A day you had been looking forward to for weeks; Spending time with Logan while also not feeling pressured into anything. Wade’s constant comments about you two shacking up held some tension between the two of you, sometimes making it awkward to even say hi to him. But this was supposed to be a turning point for the best, the manic episodes a thing of the past. You were finally healing, so you thought. Alas nothing stays the same forever; A little chaos thrown into a beautiful painting can sometimes turn the colors muddy.
Thirteen days it has been since you left your apartment, almost a full two weeks since you spoke to anyone. Text messages gone unanswered, calls gone silent. Knocks at the door becoming few and far in between as the days grew longer. The care packages dwindling down to one every other day than ever four hours. They did care, it wasn’t a bullshit excuse your mind made up, deep down you fucking knew and yet? It didn’t feel right. It was foreign of a concept; A group of people looking out for you because they care. You had been in with every wrong group possible that it ruined any singular chance of trusting their actions. Happy endings were not in your card, so you had convinced yourself. Episodes like this became your only friend, constantly reliving the worst moments over and over until you couldn’t cry anymore. The utter pain on Wade’s face as he cried for you, as Laura tried to help you, as Al reassured you, as Logan held you, were too much to constantly see. The distance was necessary. But never, never would they give up on you.
Over the last two weeks Wade has come by and sat outside your door, recounting missions and how they went to reading the newest Booktok craze in graphic detail, never spearing a moment to see if he could hear you laugh. Instead all he heard was sobs, self-hatred, and pain. It gave you the time to process your rage, to understand it cannot be pointed towards others who were only trying to help, to figure out a way to explain how sorry you are. But you never needed to, because Logan did – and they made sure they let you know. Out of everyone, Logan was rooting for you the most. Looking out for you, making sure no one came to disturb you when he heard your wails of sorrow, letting you feel rather than cause any discomfort. It killed him silently to hear you like this, not to be able to hold you through it, he wanted to do so much more.
Every text that you stomached to read from Logan was always reassuring, never condescending or jokey. Between small quotes he heard over his life of resilience to funny memes he stole from Wade, he was your cheerleader in every way. It helped you to know, even if you didn’t respond. It gave you the confidence to finally get up and take a deep breath, to understand what you were going to say. That was your plan for today and nothing was going to stop you. As soon as you realized in the early afternoon, you spent the rest of the time cleaning up your apartment, taking a shower, and getting your best comfy clothes on to have a sit down chat with everyone. It felt like everything was going to be okay – you felt like you had control over your emotions; This time it would be easy to convey what sparked your episode. Taking a deep breath you opened your apartment door as walked across the hall to Wade’s, keeping your hand steady as you knocked.
The controlled, hard thuds rang through your wrist as you heard a groan come from the other side, inaudible mumbles coming from Althea. A small smirk played across your lips as you heard her rambles, knowing how feisty the older woman is. The door to Wade’s apartment opened quickly as she stood facing you. Seeing Al after a few weeks of going MIA made your throat dry up, only hearing her words of reassurance as you had a breakdown. Instead of speaking you stared at the woman, fingers slightly trembling. Al let out a sad breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. ‘Oh honey, come on in.” How she knew that it was you wasn’t even a question in your mind, just her gentle nature of feeling you made your eyes misty. Al left a decent gap between her and the door as you crossed over the threshold, staring into the comfortable space.
You could tell that Wade and Laura weren’t around, considering how the pull-out mattress wasn’t out still and Wade’s door was wide open. But you knew he was here. As Al closed the door behind the two of you, the third door of the right opened quickly, the wood creaking against the hinges. Standing in the doorway with warm eyes and a stoic stance was Logan, staring at you like he was in disbelief. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, instead he kept his eyes on your face. Your hair was tucked behind your ears and away from your features; Logan’s eyes trailed over each part with a soft smile on his lips, relief coursing through his veins. “How are you doing?” he asked calmly, not moving a muscle as he gauged your response. The tranquil state you were previously in started to crumble at those four words, your eyes growing tight and blurry as you stared into Logan’s hazel eyes. Your fingers began to shake as your heart raced, a sob threatening to tear from your throat without warning. All you could do was shake your head at Logan’s question, blinking your tears away. Without a thought, you moved fast into Logan as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his flannel. Everything you had been holding onto for two weeks was already coming out; The dame officially breaking as he held you. “I got you, sshh – you’re okay,” Logan responded as he rubbed your back, tightening his hold on you as you cried.
Logan slowly shuffled you backwards into his bedroom, letting the heavy door shut on its own as he held you the entire way. Due to how lost you were in his sweet embrace, you didn’t realize that you were now in Logan’s room or better yet, laying with him on his bed. Positioning you to face him, Logan never let you go as he pulled you close to him, letting your face press into his neck as he pulled the comforter over the two of you. Short, sweet hums left his lips as he rested his cheek against the top of your head, letting your subconsciously link his thick legs with yours. “I’m proud of you for coming over, you know that?” Those words warmed your chest as you felt your body shiver, the praise meaning everything to you. Pushing your face deeper against the crook of Logan’s neck, you belted out a wail as you gripped his shirt, just knowing it was starting to soak with the runoff of your tears. You shook your head against his chest, slightly digging your nails through his shirt.
Over the last year you watched Logan transform from gruff and rugged emotionally to happy and prideful. Though that hardened shell of his would never leave, he seemed to be a lot lighter mentally. After he became the new anchor being, new resident of Earth-10005, and the new friend of Wade, which all still was confusing to your human brain, he realized that life was so much more than reliving your past – and learning to move forward from it. It was a slow journey for him but, he found solace in the understanding and knowing. Which is why he didn’t hesitate to grab you and pull you close, knowing this only mirrored what you did for him all those months ago. Being on the receiving end of it felt bizarre for you, but it felt like home. You didn’t want to believe it, but it was true. “You shouldn’t,” a low whispered escaped through your sob as Logan trailed his fingers over your back, drawing small shapes against your hoodie.
“But I am, it’s a big first step.” It was true in a way, the first step was always the acknowledgement. Just leaving your apartment was a great first attempt, and now you were really making strides. “We love you so much, I love you, sweetheart.” Hearing Logan say that caused your heart to clench; The game of cat and mouse of feelings you two have been ping-ponging over the last year reached its peak quickly during this whole time, realizing you two were in silent cahoots – there never needed to be a talk about labels when it happened to naturally. Neither one of you would admit it but, you were together way before any of this went down. Swallowing down the smartass retort wanting to slip off your tongue, you sank your nails a bit deeper into his shirt, feeling his hiss come out. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, Lo. Do you know how to love?”
You hated yourself for those words, knowing you didn’t mean it but let it go anyways. A typical defense tactic to push people away. Logan knew it too which is why he never responded, only snickered at your persistence. He knew exactly how you would react, knowing from your past conversations about your previous episodes. Running his beard across the side of your cheek, Logan nodded against your face as he spoke, “I love Wade. I love Laura. I love Al. And most importantly, I love you.” Hearing him say again that he loved you should’ve been one of the happiest moments, knowing you both were making great strides in your relationship, yet it left a burning hole of lies in your chest. You scoff at Logan’s declaration, a fresh wave of warm tears cascading down your cheeks as you push your face further into his burly chest. You tried so hard to mask your cry with a cough but, Logan knew better. The words holding their true meaning, the truth snaking its way through your brain. Shaking your head against his pecs, you inhale a deeply, smelling his shower gel and natural musk flooding your nose. “You don’t love me, you barely know me.”
Logan smiles softly above you, trying not to roll his eyes at your clear avoidance of the talk you were about to have. He found your stubbornness endearing, seeing a bit of himself within you. He was the same way after all, never acknowledging or wanting to accept but always question, always avoid. Hiding and not accepting the truth was easier than healing at times. Logan placed his lips to the top of your head as he kisses it gently, rubbing his large hand up and down your back. He never let his lips pull back your head as you let out his words, wanting the warmth of his breath to sink in, hoping that would help you to understand the truth over the lies your mind was telling. “Then give me a chance to.” It slipped out between his lips so naturally you had no time to adjust, hitting you like a ton of bricks.
You stop in the moment; Your breathing, your crying, your whole body. Logan’s words sank deep within your soul, causing a bloom of emotion to burst within your chest. The truth was burning your nerves one by one, every fiber alight and refusing to be put out with your self-doubt. Every stage of grief you could possibly feel ran through your with cold fingers, awakening you for what felt like centuries. Trembling hands grip tighter at his flannel tighter, pulling him close and pushing him away at the same time. Your brows furrow as you scan the darkness within, trying to find a reason why he shouldn’t. All you could find was positive after positive with Logan, remembering how he tried to do the same to you and you refused to give up on him. Now it was your turn, but stepping into the unknown scared you more than anything else. Opening yourself up to him, was terrifying. “Don’t push me away, please.” Logan whispered into your hairline, feeling his own soul hurt for you. 
“That’s all I know how to do.” It wasn’t a lie persay, but it wasn’t the whole truth. You never pushed away the gang, not ever. Anytime you were mildly upset you made sure to be with them, and they stayed with you through it all. Even the times you got annoyed with them, you never gave up on that friendship. You knew deep down you’d never push them away, in fact it was funny to you how you even thought that. As Wade had one said, we are like herpes – we never leave, sweet cheeks. “Let me help you break that cycle.” You wanted to believe Logan, trust his words and actions of the man you love. But it was fear inducing to do so, because every what if made its way out of the wood works, chiming in their two cents. What if he leaves you? What if he moves on? What if he is saying this just to make you happy? What if he doesn’t mean it? What if he just feels sorry for you?
The offer to help you break the cycle was what set you off, tearing yourself away from Logan. Sitting up roughly on his bed, you bunched the comforter down at your hips, placing your head in your hands. The fresh wave of tears was threatening to spill over as you shook your head, your knees trembling with every inhale. “What if it can’t be broken, Logan?” You pan your eyes up at him, your bottom lip quivering. “What if that’s all I’m ever going to be destined for? Healing others while I hurt myself. I don’t know if I can be fixed, or changed or-“ Logan abruptly stopped your spiel as he reached for you, holding your face within his hands. The gentle flecks of golds and emeralds swimming in his irises caused your heart to flutter, his natural beauty causing your cheeks to warm. He stared at you like a man in love, needing you to know just how precious you are.
“I said the same thing about myself, for fucking years. I refused to believe I could be happy, in a better place mentally, I didn’t want to be happy. I wanted to hurt, knowing what I did to cause pain to others. I believed I deserved it. Not a day goes by where I sometimes slip into my old routine. But I remember that people do appreciate me, they do love me - even if I don’t want to believe it.” You noticed how Logan wasn’t aware he was crying with you, his tears slowly falling from the inner corner of his eyes as he spoke. The hold he had on your face growing harder, not in a painful way but in a comforting one. Every word he spoke he wanted to sink in, to show you if it wasn’t the end for him – it wasn’t for you either. “But-“ you chimed, trying to find a reasoning but coming up short. “No buts, just feel. What do you want, sweetheart?”
The question held a lot of meaning, a lot of endless possibilities that you weren’t able to explore in your lifetime. For the first time in so long, you felt like you finally had a choice over your own decisions, not your mental health. The way you stared at Logan, with admiration and hesitance caused his heart rate to speed up, his palms growing clammy at what you may say. He could smell your fear, hear your heart pumping at an abnormal rate. Placing his wide palm against your calf, he rubbed over your leggings with languid strokes, helping to coax your answer out. The feelings finally setting in, everything hitting its peak, knowing you were not going to be hitting rock bottom again. “I want to be happy.” It didn’t sound real coming from your mouth, foreign against your tongue as Logan painted his face with a slow smile, admiring your strength and truth to wanting to be happy, instead of staying in that darkened space.
“Louder, darlin.” Logan coaxed with a gentle smile, pressing his lips to your temple as he took a deep inhale. He liked to believe that was his way of ridding you of this pain, inhaling it so he could hold onto it – so you could feel at peace. A small grin made its way upon your lips as you closed your eyes, sinking into his touch deeper. His arms came to hold you against his chest, peppering kisses along the left side of your face as you exhaled. “I want to be happy, Logan.” This time it felt real, felt right coming from you. Your tears dried up quickly, the sticky residue still on your cheeks as you started to get back on your metaphorical feet. His kisses caused your stomach to burn with love and passion. Grabbing at his right hand, you pulled it to your lips as you kissed over where his claws would come out, showing him how even something so deadly deserves care.
“Give yourself permission to.” Logan smiles genuinely as he cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb over your skin. Reveling in his touch was the only thing you could do, watching him with hearts in your eyes as you smiled. Having someone like Logan be so patient with you, caring for you like no one before has, made you feel safe. It made you feel like things were really going to get better, and now they were. He was right, you needed to give yourself over to your own happiness, and welcome it in. It was a scary thing to adjust to but, you deserved it. The torment you had been putting yourself through, dealing with crisis after crisis and believing every mean word to be true, you deserved this much needed break and acceptance. Logan pressed his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, wanting you to take in every word deep within your soul. “I’ll be with you, every step of the way. I won’t give up on you.” 
That was all you needed for the tears to start again, this time though – they were different. They were sweet this time around, not sour and hateful like earlier. This time they were cool to the touch, not scalding hot. Hearing the love of your life say that, meant the world was healing. You were silently giving yourself over to Logan fully, letting him help you instead of shutting him out. Welcoming him in during your time of need was what the world gave you, and you were never going to take it for granted. Sighing out into his touch, you sniffed back a few tears as you cleared your throat, knowing another cry would slip out sooner. “No one’s ever told me that.”
It broke Logan’s heart to hear that, knowing people gave up on you too easily during your time of need. He couldn’t bear the thought of you alone in the world, dealing with the demons on your own; He needed you to know he would make sure you never fell down that path again. Leaning into you, Logan pressed his plush lips against yours, letting the slow hum of the central air drown out the loud voices in his mind. Just like that the world stood still, in this moment it was just you and Logan – no one else, no other thing. Time stopped to let you both take this all in, to realize two souls were converging into one, and the path ahead was twisting together for the two of you. The soft nature of the kiss felt like it could heal all of your wounds, and deep down you believed that it did. Logan was stitching together every slice in your being, healing those jagged scars, stitching your soul into one again. “Good thing I’m not no one,” Logan smiled against your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses as he nudging his nose to yours, making you look up at him. “I’m someone to you.”
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yanderefarm · 1 day ago
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yandere crime lord introduction
cw;; torture, violence, yandere things, nsft
he's finally here. please feast your eyes on him. pretty boy. im amazed at how the three of them really do look like brothers. i was having a really hard time with his hair when i finally to give him curly hair like his brother and its such a good choice. ajax has some curl to his hair too so they all look related.
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achilles is the eldest brother of ares and ajax. he's 35 years old.
he has a nicotine addiction and he goes through a pack a week. quitting is more stressful than it's worth so he hasn't tried.
he stays in touch with his brothers. ares more so because ares calls him to hide bodies frequently.
he isn't head of the family yet, he works right under his father and he has a lot of the same power and responsibilities.
he hates violence and as a young boy he was even more soft spoken and didn't want to hurt anyone. now he has no choice and that adds to his stress.
his whole life he's been compared to ares because he's so much softer than his more aggressive brother. this caused him to really develop a complex where he's always thinking about how much better ares would be at everything he tries and then he starts to stress that people will realize that he's just faking being tough and masculine.
he's known since he was young that he likes men but he doesn't want to risk anymore more evidence against him.
he doesn't have time for relationships or a personal life. his routine is basically work, stress, eat, sleep.
this only changes when he's with you. suddenly he doesn't have to stop and remember to eat. he doesn't have to hurt anyone or be threatening. there's no fear of being exposed with you.
his routine with you is torture, eat, get taken care of, sleep.
at first it was horrible, of course it would be. he spent every day just praying he survived. but one day you weren't torturing him, instead you just let him sit in the same room as you.
for the first time he didn't have to be scared or worry about survival and he was certain all his stress would come back to him. but he realized there was no point in stressing; you would kill him sooner rather than later so he could just comfortably be himself.
he started to get closer to you then forming some kind of strange domesticity. he even found himself enjoying the pain, the horrible pain you would inflict would empty his mind of everything but you.
and then you would patch and clean his wounds so gently. you would always tell him when it was about to sting like you hadn't been putting out cigarettes on his chest an hour ago.
he fell in love with you in the 2 and a half months he spent as your captive. it was nice to love someone so deeply before he died.
and then you told him he could leave. he was confused, upset, confused why he was upset. he wondered if maybe you had found out that your victim had developed a sick affection for you and you were so disgusted with him.
he never understood his younger brother's feelings and possessiveness towards everything. he didn't understand how his brother could claim to love something so deeply that he feels compelled to break it. but when you told him he could go he suddenly understood everything.
it was like something in his mind finally clicked into place and he knew he couldn't let you throw him away. he knew he didn't have any power over you but if he could find something you wanted he could force you to let him stay.
he eventually becomes a pay pig for you. he knows that you're willing to do extreme things for money but he usually just pays to go on dates or for kisses.
he calls you a lot whenever work becomes overwhelming. if you don't answer the phone he'll light up a cigarette instead.
everyone thinks he has a girlfriend and he's some dominant guy who's suddenly whipped for a pretty little girl. they don't know he's the wife.
he loves mascot characters. he really loves cute or ugly cute things. he has a cute phone charm he got from ares and it's the only cute thing he allows himself to own. he can use it being his brother's gift as a good excuse to keep it.
ares knows his real personality while ajax still thinks he's a cool stoic older brother
he is very stoic and he can come off pretty intimidating. he'll accidentally glare at people sometimes because he's just lost in thought and worrying about something.
he only smiles when he's with you. whether you're out on a date or he's getting sewn up he'll have a soft little smile on his face.
if you ever tried to abandon him he would use every resource at his disposal to find you. even if he has to be the one to lock you up he won't let you leave.
he's surprisingly clingy in public. he doesn't do much pda but he'll hold your hand the whole time. if anyone looks at you he'll squeeze your hand and pull you a little closer to himself.
surprisingly it actually takes him a little bit to come around to the idea of bringing sex into things. even longer to convince him that he'd probably enjoy sex more if there was a pain aspect.
now he gets turned on as soon as you press that piece of duct tape over his mouth. he's a complete degenerate.
he loves being degraded. nothing is more exciting than when he calls you at work stressed out and you mock his whole crime lord attitude.
never worry about being too mean to him. he will beg you to make him cry.
he got the family sex = love belief. however because of his work with prostitutes he finds love to be cheap. he didn't think he would ever fall in love until his obsession with you formed.
he also inherited the family forced fem kink. he particularly likes to wear frilly lingerie under his suits while at work. he always sends you a picture of his underwear in the morning.
he over hears someone talking about how much they love calling their wife, wife. so he asks you to call him wife once and it immediately gets him hard. he's a blushing mess about it. .
quiet in bed. when hes not screaming in pain. he just gasps and whimpers at your touch.
he has a desperate need to praise you. like a praise kink but on the giving side. he wants to kiss every inch of your skin and tell you how grateful he is for you.
he doesn't say i love you a lot but when he does it's during sex. especially after edging him.
any kinks you want to try on him he is down to do at least once.
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redvexillum · 2 days ago
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Well, this was just asking for a companion piece to my other two story C☆CKWARMING and ROUGH S☆X, so thank you for that. I dedicate this story to @kewpikayo. Listen, I dedicated yesterday's story to your wife, it only makes sense this story should be dedicated to you - after all, Dew & Kew FOREVER! 💖
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, human!alastor, alastor is dom, reader is sub, pain kink, reader is masochistic, alastor is sadistic, bad BDSM etiquette, no safe word, no after care, blood play, biting, spanking, rough ☆ral s☆x, p in v, c☆m outside, c☆m eating, implied period-typical racism
✨️ Companion piece to C☆CKWARMING and ROUGH S☆X. This story is the origin of where it all started. ✨️
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A low, irritated growl simmered in Alastor’s throat as he watched you—Daddy’s sheltered little girl—stumble back, arms flailing as the load you carried slipped from your grip. You landed unceremoniously on the ground, the papers and boxes you’d been carrying spilling around you like fallen leaves. The sight was exasperating, yet all too familiar; he wasn’t sure whether to sigh, sneer, or simply walk away. 
Instead, he felt his left eye twitch as he forced his grin wider, an increasingly tight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Each muscle in his face strained against his better judgment, but he bent down, begrudgingly extending a hand to help you up. 
And there it was: the way your cheeks bloomed crimson as you looked up at him, hesitantly taking his hand as if touching him was some kind of privilege. 
Under normal circumstances, he would have thrived on this—the adoration, the bashful flush, the clear admiration in your eyes that so many others had shown him. The mere idea of having another fan should’ve filled him with smug satisfaction. But not this time. 
No, there was one pesky fact that dulled the thrill. 
From the beginning, breaking into the radio world had been an uphill battle. The station was his dream, and to make it a reality, he’d had to secure an investor. But with his humble roots, Alastor had needed more than a charming smile; he needed money, power, and someone with influence willing to back a stranger like him. And so he’d found himself entangled with a wealthy patron—a man who agreed to fund him… under one condition. 
He had to hire you.
You. 
His patron’s clumsy, insipid little daughter, the perpetual thorn in his side. Each time he thought he’d seen every mistake a person could make, you’d invent a new one, blundering through tasks with astonishing incompetence. His nerves frayed more with every passing day as he forced himself to breathe, to smile, to tell you gently that "everyone makes mistakes." The words tasted like rot in his mouth. 
Alastor considered himself a patient man. A forgiving man. But everyone has their limits. 
And you, quite simply, were his. 
He took a slow, seething breath, plotting as he felt the spark of a plan take root. If he could get you to quit on your own, perhaps he could still keep the funding—maybe, if he played his cards right, he could even sway your father to his side without the added irritation of watching you trip over your damn feet every three steps. 
So he began to freeze you out. Day after day, he kept his distance, watching from the corner of his eye as you struggled on, hoping his chilly demeanour would drive you away. But you were far too talkative, your relentless cheer slipping through the cracks of his carefully crafted mask. Every time he steeled himself to ignore you, there you were, talking at length about how much you loved his show, how much his puns and wordplay made you laugh, how his humour lifted your spirits. 
The way your eyes sparkled when you praised him—it should have been satisfying. Instead, it was infuriating. 
Yet, against his better judgment, he found himself responding. Something in the glint of your smile made his guarded grin relax, if only for a moment. Begrudgingly, he’d join in, rolling his eyes at your endless enthusiasm but unable to entirely dismiss it. It was as if you were some parasitic creature, a leech drawing life from him, clinging on with no intention of letting go. 
And he endured—patient, calculating, waiting for you to tire of him. 
But then came the last straw. His beloved broadcast, his dream, was starting to slip through his fingers. Listeners dropped off, each patron he had worked tirelessly to convince backed out one by one. Every investment vanished like smoke. And with it, his patience thinned to a knife’s edge, fraying with each setback. Months of self-restraint, of resisting his baser urges, of refraining from any “extracurricular activities” in favour of keeping his show alive, felt like sacrifices crumbling underfoot. 
And he blamed you. 
Though in truth, your mistakes weren’t drastic enough to ruin his business, but they were enough to tear away at his sanity: the times you forgot to pick up his dry cleaning, spilled coffee on his meticulously crafted script—one he knew by heart—or neglected to take his typewriter in for maintenance, forcing him to painstakingly handwrite his next segment. Small annoyances, but they added up, each one tightening the coil of irritation within him. 
Today, though, something snapped. It started with a simple spill, water glistening on the polished wooden floor of his office. As you bent down to hurriedly wipe it, your hand brushed against his glass vase, sending it crashing to the ground in a cascade of shattered crystal. The shards sparkled around you, a mocking reflection of the life he felt slipping into chaos. 
In one swift movement, he had you pinned against the wall, his hands braced beside your head, his body pressing close. He could feel the heat radiating from you, his knee slipping between your legs, lifting just enough to keep you fixed in place. The room felt smaller, the air charged with something he couldn’t name, something that sent a thrill down his spine as he watched the flush creep up to your cheeks. 
“I have never met anyone as clumsy and foolish as you,” he murmured, his voice low, menacing. Though his mouth held its trademarked grin, his eyes burned, dark and narrowed, a storm barely restrained. 
“Ah, u-uhm,” you stammered, your eyes darting away, body trembling before him. 
“Look. At. Me.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up, so your gaze was locked with his. 
Deep down, Alastor knew he was risking everything. You were untouchable—Daddy’s little girl from a family of wealth and power, far beyond his own background. He knew what one accusation could do, one tear sent running back to your father. His dream, his work, his station—he could lose it all before he could snap his fingers, hah! 
But right now, the months of mounting irritation, of resisting every impulse, of pushing down every dark urge—none of it seemed to matter. 
“So-sorry, s-sir,” you whispered, a helpless apology on your lips. And at that moment, something snapped within him. The rush of power, the slight tremor in your voice, the glimmer of fear in your eyes—it was intoxicating. 
His fingers itched with desire, a pulse of longing, dark and primal. 
He wanted to choke you, see the life dull from your eyes, kill you. 
It had been so long since he’d indulged, felt the thrill of being in control, of bending someone to his will. Slowly, his hand slipped down, brushing along the column of your neck, fingers tracing the soft, vulnerable skin. 
Just a small squeeze. Just a taste.
The moment his hand rested there, he felt the rapid beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips, sensed the quick rise and fall of your breath. Your pupils widened, darkening with something that wasn’t just fear, and he nearly laughed at the realization. 
You were… enjoying this. 
“Was it all on purpose, dear?” His voice dropped to a dark murmur, lips just a breath away from your ear, close enough that he could feel the heat of you. “Did you want this to happen? Have you been fantasizing about this with me?” His leg shifted, pressing upward, his knee sliding dangerously close to the warmth of your core, your skirt sliding higher as he held you in place. 
There was no escape for you, nowhere to look but at him, and he could hear your heart pounding louder, a heat blooming that had nothing to do with fear. The line between his anger and desire blurred, each breath he shared with you pulled him deeper into something he couldn’t resist. 
“Did you want to be punished by me?” Alastor’s voice was a low, dangerous purr, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he held you there, watching your every response. The softest moan slipped from your lips, unbidden, and his mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin. 
“Oh, dear,” he murmured, clicking his tongue in mock reproach. “How utterly deviant, depraved, you are.” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing the edge of your ear. Every sound, every whisper, heightened the tremble in your muscles as your body gave in to his hold. 
Alastor felt the thrum of his own pulse, a deep, carnal need that was building to an undeniable point. He’d known desire before, but never this tangled web of control and raw hunger that he felt with you pinned so willingly beneath him. 
To his dark amusement, he felt the tightening in his pants as he took in every inch of your flushed, submissive form. You were an enticing little thing, and now, the line he’d never meant to cross was beginning to blur. 
A tempting thought crossed his mind. “If I fulfill your desire, will you fulfill mine, dear?” His voice was a low, velvet promise as he pressed his knee firmly against your core, feeling the heat of you even through the fabric. His grin grew, an expression laced with a dangerous delight. “How utterly sinful you are, hiding that desire under a mask of innocence.” 
“I-I would do anything you’d like, sir,” you whispered, breath hitching, your hands glued to your side.
Keeping his eyes locked with yours, Alastor pulled back, though he didn’t allow enough distance for you to look away—or see the intensity of his arousal pressing through his trousers. 
“Let me give you what you want,” he murmured. “One good, hard fuck, and I,” his voice turned sweet as he tilted his head, his gaze narrowing with intent, “want you to quit for good, after ensuring that Daddy keeps his generous funding for me.” He brushed his fingers along your cheek, a mockingly gentle caress. “What do you say, dear? Do we have a deal?” 
You hesitated, looking into his eyes, the flush of your cheeks deepening as your lip caught between your teeth. “Hard f-fuck?” you stuttered, voice soft yet bold, your fingers hovering near his chest before you finally dared to touch him, briefly tugging at the lapels of his jacket. “You don't find that strange?” 
Alastor didn't care how unusual your desire was. As long as he got what he wanted at the end, that was all that mattered to him. 
The end always justified the means. 
A dark laugh slipped from him, and he tightened his grip, one hand sliding up to tangle in your hair, fingers pulling enough to tip your head back as he leaned in. He pressed himself against you, his hardness now unmistakable against your stomach, his lips grazing yours in the lightest, tantalizing tease. 
“Eyes on me, darling,” he commanded softly, releasing his hold on you just enough to let his thumb trail down your lip as he took a small step back, watching you. “Now,” his voice dropped to a dark whisper, “strip.” 
To his delight, you hesitated, only for a heartbeat. Your cheeks flushed in that shade of pretty pink he found almost as irresistible as your trembling compliance. But then, slowly, you began undoing the buttons of your blouse, your fingers shaking slightly as you slipped the fabric from your shoulders, baring yourself to his gaze. 
Heat surged in his veins, not only from the sight of you, but from the delicious power thrumming in his veins. This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was control, a feeling as heady as the thrill of holding someone’s life in his hands. 
But tonight, he was going to savour every second of holding you in the palm of his hand. 
As your clothes slipped away, one by one, you stood bare before him, your skin glistening in the dim light, the cool air teasing your erect nipples. He stepped closer, the sharp click of his heels against the polished wood. “Someone might come in, dear; are you aware of that? I left the door unlocked, after all.” His voice dripped with sadistic glee.
Your breath hitched, and your gaze flicked nervously to the doorknob, before you paled, realizing it was indeed unlocked. You had no idea that his workers had all quit once they heard wind of the investors backing out. 
Yet, you stood your ground, your eyes meeting his with a potent mix of fear and unyielding resolve. There was a trust there—a dangerous, intoxicating trust—that he knew he didn’t deserve but was all too willing to take. 
“Kneel,” he commanded, and your knees hit the floor without hesitation. His lips curled into a wicked grin as he closed the distance, his hips thrusting forward enticingly. “Show me just how much you want it, dear.” His voice was sultry and low, coaxing you into surrender. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and pants, pulling them down to reveal his half-hard cock, thick and waiting for you. 
You inhaled sharply, before you pressed your lips to the tip while looking up at him, waiting for his next command. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and you obeyed, “Tongue out,” he added, and your tongue slipped out from your lips, eager to please him. 
With a firm grip on your hair, he guided your head forward, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. A low, primal groan escaped him, echoing off the walls of the office. It had been far too long since he’d indulged in such raw pleasure, and the thrill of having complete control over you heightened his arousal. This was not the gentle foreplay he was used to; this was a deliciously crude act of dominance that made his heart race. 
He couldn’t help but imagine how his mother would disapprove of his treatment of you. But you craved this, wanted him in ways that thrilled and terrified you both. It felt like a dark dance of power—a beautiful, twisted exchange that neither of you could resist. 
With each thrust, he lost himself deeper in your warmth, the sensation of your soft, wet mouth engulfing him driving him to the edge. He revelled in the control he wielded, in the way you surrendered to his desires, your submission stoking the one lukewarm drive within him. 
The best part of this exchange? He was going to remain on top, remain in control, remain in power, both in the deal struck and the way he devoured you. 
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When he called you depraved, a deviant, your heart sank. Deep down, you knew it was true; your desires were unconventional, perhaps even strange. You had been with other men before, yet none had ever come close to scratching the itch that Alastor stirred within you. 
Every word he spoke about you rang true. Yes, you had a crush on him. Yes, you often found yourself lost in naughty, impure thoughts about him. Still, you yearned to keep those thoughts hidden, for working for him had become the highlight of your months. 
For once, you felt needed, desired, and useful—feelings that seemed to vanish the moment you returned home, where you faced the disappointment of your parents after yet another failed meeting with a suitor. The worry etched on their faces suggested they feared you might become a spinster.
The thought of Alastor wanting you to quit stung. It felt as if your dreams were crumbling around you, and the realization that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings hurt more than you cared to admit. But if you could have him for the first and last time, you wanted it to be an unforgettable memory. 
What Alastor would never realize was that you would never allow your father to withdraw his support from him financially. You loved his show genuinely, and you wanted to see him succeed and thrive. You believed in him wholeheartedly, confident that one day he would achieve the success he deserved, so he wouldn’t have to bargain for your father’s backing. 
As his hot, heavy cock filled your mouth, you felt a rush of heat flush through your body. You gagged slightly when the tip pressed against the back of your throat, a combination of pleasure and slight panic washing over you. The salty taste of him overwhelmed your senses, and you glanced up, seeing Alastor’s eyes closed in pure ecstasy. His fingers gripped your hair, the pressure varying as he slowly rolled his hips, the head of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. 
Each time you choked on him, you felt the violent twitch of his cock, and a small, heady low moan from him. It seemed he relished the sounds you made, and you focused on creating a tight seal around him, sucking with all the enthusiasm you could muster. But the bliss was abruptly cut short when he pulled your hair, yanking you off his cock. A glistening strand of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your lips, then fell, leaving a tiny droplet on the floor. 
“Messy girl,” he teased, and you could see the hard anger in his eyes fade, replaced by a gleam of something more raw and animalistic. He was enjoying this, and your heart raced at the thought. “Always making a mess of all my things.” His gaze flickered to the shattered vase on the floor, but thankfully, none of the fragments had reached where you knelt. “What do you have to say for yourself?” 
Your shoulders jumped as you looked up at him, your voice trembling. “I’m so—” But before you could finish, he thrust his cock back down your throat. You gagged again, tears springing to your eyes as you grasped at his thighs for stability. 
The struggle for breath was real, but Alastor didn’t relent, pushing deeper until your vision blurred from the lack of air. You fought to breathe through your nose, panic mingling with arousal. Just when you thought you might pass out, he finally pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, your body bowed low as coughs escaped your lips, mixed with tears and saliva spilling from your mouth. 
“I should punish you, shouldn’t I?” Alastor purred, his voice smooth like silk as he sauntered over to the single-seat couch in the corner of his office. His cock stood proudly, glistening with your saliva, an inviting sight that made your heart race. He patted his knee, an invitation that sent a shiver down your spine. “Come.” 
A flutter of excitement mixed with trepidation filled you as you quickly stood up, your legs feeling slightly unsteady as you approached him. When you reached him, your stomach flipped with a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. His gaze roamed hungrily over your body, settling on your slick folds, and he hummed a low note of approval. Slowly, he extended his hand, sliding a finger between your inner folds before teasingly flicking your sensitive clit. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you doubled over, almost collapsing onto his lap. You could see the wicked glint in his eyes as he observed the slickness on his finger before bringing it to his mouth, tasting you. “Hmm,” he hummed, a smirk played on his lips. “Lay on my lap, stomach down.”
Your mind spun with a mix of confusion and apprehension. You complied, laying across his lap, your gaze dropping to the floor, heart racing. You felt the heat of his hard cock pressing against your side, and his hand began to stroke the gentle curve of your ass, sending sparks of desire coursing through you. 
“Have you ever been punished before, my dear?” he asked suddenly, his tone teasing yet serious. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “Have you ever been spanked before?” he corrected himself with a soft chuckle. 
Confusion clouded your thoughts as you shook your head. “N-no, my mama and papa never laid a hand on me like that,” you admitted quietly, unsure where Alastor was going with this. 
“Ah, it all makes sense now,” he mused, his hand continuing to caress your ass, fingers grazing your drenched folds. The teasing touch was just enough to send waves of heat pooling in your core, igniting a desperate need within you. You wanted him to delve deeper, to flick your clit until you were begging for release. 
“Let me give you a lesson on what we do to spoiled princesses,” Alastor remarked, his voice dripping with mock cheer. 
Before you could utter a word, you felt a sharp slap against your left cheek. The sting radiated through you, a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure that made tears prick at your eyes. You stifled a cry, fingers clenching at his pants in a desperate bid for control. 
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his tone devoid of any sympathy, only curiosity. 
You nodded vigorously, the truth washing over you. 
“Excellent,” he replied, a smirk curling at his lips before he raised his hand again, delivering another sharp slap to the same spot. The pain was intense, yet thrilling, and you felt a tear escape, rolling down your cheek as your body reacted in ways you never thought it could. 
Before you could beg him to stop, you felt his fingers plunge deep into your core, rubbing and massaging against your walls. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, quickly morphing into a heady moan as your body instinctively wiggled, seeking more of his touch. The slick sound of his fingers squelching inside you mixed with your cries, blending the initial pain into a dizzying rush of pleasure. 
Suddenly, an insatiable hunger ignited within you. You hadn’t realized how exquisitely pain and pleasure could intertwine. “Please, sir, m-more,” you mewled, unable to hold back the desperate need spilling from your lips as you turned your tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. Your heart raced, overwhelmed by the heady blend of emotions and sensations. 
Alastor’s fingers stilled inside you, his eyes darkening as they traced over your expression, drinking in your vulnerability. The corners of his lips twitched with satisfaction, and you felt the heat of his cock twitching insistently against your side. In a swift motion, he withdrew his fingers, pulling you up and manoeuvring you to straddle his lap. 
Blood rushed to your head, the dull ache of arousal amplifying every sensation. Your breath hitched as you felt the thick tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. With a firm pull, he sank you down onto him, filling you completely to the hilt. 
A scream tore from your throat, a mix of shock and bliss as the delicious stretch enveloped you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the sharp, heat of pleasure as his cock throbbed against your walls. The arousal only mounted as Alastor leaned back against the couch, his mouth slightly parted, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 
Moments later, he opened his darkened eyes. His fingers released your hips, and he commanded, “Move.” 
You hesitated, adjusting to his size, then began to lift yourself up, savouring the emptiness he left behind before sinking back down onto him again. The rhythm felt exhilarating as you rode him, bare and exposed before his hungry gaze. 
His hands found their way to your nipples, fingers grazing your sensitive skin, teasing your areolas with gentle circles. The electric pleasure shot through you, urging you to move faster, each rise and fall sending jolts of pleasure through your body. As you sank back down, he pinched your nipples hard, the sensation exploding through you. 
A sharp cry escaped your lips, mingling with a wave of decadent arousal that crashed over you. Desperation consumed you as you began to grind against his hip, your clit pulsing with need, craving attention, longing for the release that only he could provide. 
“My, you certainly do handle pain in quite a strange way,” Alastor said, his breath coming in heavy, lust-filled gasps as his hips jerked up against you. “Though—hah—I can’t say that I dislike it,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. 
He pulled your body forward, pressing his face between the soft, inviting curves of your breasts. His hips took full control, pistoning his thick cock deep inside you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, rising in a staccato rhythm that matched the desperate cries spilling from your lips. His teeth sank into the tender flesh of your breast, and you felt a delicious blend of pain and elation that blurred the lines of your pleasure. 
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as he bit down harder, his hunger for you evident in the fierce way he held you. Finally, he let go, his breath hot and ragged as he revealed his lips stained crimson with your blood. 
Your heart raced as you looked down, seeing the deep teeth mark oozing with warmth. His tongue flicked across his lower lip, savouring the taste of you as he pressed you even deeper onto his cock. A deep, throaty moan escaped him, the sound raw and primal. 
His eyes glinted with a dangerous hunger, and he bit into the underside of your breast once more, drawing another cry from your lips as his cock throbbed insistently against your walls. Instantly, the world flipped, and your back hit the cold floor, the shock sending sparks of mind-numbing pleasure coursing through you. Alastor's every bite left a blazing trail of sensation, a heady mix of sharp pain and bliss. His teeth glistened with crimson, and he began to thrust into you with desperation, each powerful movement sending waves of euphoria radiating from your core. 
It was overwhelming—the way he drilled into you, the way his hips slapped against your clit with a relentless intensity. The wet sound of skin against skin filled the air, mingling with the cacophony of his moans and your cries. Just as he sank his teeth into your other shoulder, you felt a blinding rush of pleasure, a bright flash that took you over the edge. You shattered around him, your body convulsing in waves of pure bliss as he continued to thrust, driving you deeper into ecstasy. 
Sobbing with a mixture of overstimulation and overwhelming emotion, drool trickled from your lips as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. You clung to him, the intense heat of your orgasm washing over you in a torrent. When he finally withdrew, Alastor positioned himself above you, pumping his cock vigorously, each stroke pulling a raw, primal growl from deep within him. The gleaming head of his cock pointed toward you, dripping with unsatisfied lust. 
With a low, guttural sound, he released himself, spurting hot, milky liquid that mingled with the crimson of your blood, swirling together into a beautiful shade of pink. The warmth splattered across your face, your neck, and trickled down the curve of your chest, marking you as his. 
When he finally let go, he gazed down at you with a mix of desire and admiration. “My, how pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his eyes glazed and wild with an unquenchable hunger. 
Your heart raced at his words, and you lay still, the remnants of your orgasm still pulsing through you, each throb a reminder of the heat and sting left by his bites and slaps.
You didn’t dare speak as you waited for Alastor to gather himself, bracing for the inevitable moment he would fire you. Instead, he did something entirely unexpected. With a slow, deliberate movement, he traced his cum, now mingled with your blood, transforming into a light pink hue across your bottom lip. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something more debased stirring within you. 
He then penetrated your mouth with his finger, the salty, bitter taste flooding your senses. You could taste the metallic tang, and a whisper of disgust escaped your lips as the awful flavour overwhelmed you. 
“I expect to see you tomorrow,” he murmured softly, his gaze locked on your lips, hypnotized as he pistoned his finger in and out of your mouth. Each movement was both gentle and demanding, making you feel utterly exposed. “Perhaps I underestimated your usefulness,” he continued, pressing down on your tongue, forcing you to swallow around him. “If you don’t come, I’ll assume you quit.” 
As he withdrew his fingers, glistening with your saliva, he brought them to his own, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he savoured you, relishing the taste, ignited a forbidden thrill deep within you. 
“Understood,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse yet tinged with submission. The soft addition of “sir” fell from your lips like an offering, and the way his eyes darkened in response sent a jolt of excitement through you. 
His grin stretched wider, a predatory gleam flashing across his features, making you feel like prey caught in the gaze of a hungry predator. You were trapped, utterly captivated by his dominance, and yet there was a part of you that craved it—craved him.
And deep down, you knew you would let him devour you whole, wouldn’t you?
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Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!
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littlestarbigsky · 2 days ago
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i’m obsessed with how it’s left open ended what happens to two-bit after jft
what if marcia doubled back after everyone left, watching him curled up into a ball on the ground, shaking and crying, jumping almost clean out of his skin when he felt someone close to him. what if she brought him back to her house and tried to patch him up as best as she could but paul may have broken one of his ribs and she’s never dealt with a burn like this before… “god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t think bev would ever think of doing something like this.”
what if he managed to get himself back to the curtis house and scared the life out of darry when he came home from work. what if two-bit told darry about the rumble while he was getting all the frozen vegetables out to help with the pain, what if soda had to keep him calm and still while darry rinsed out the burn with saline… “i know, buddy, he’s almost done, and then you can sleep, i promise.”
what if he ran for his life, not caring about how he could hardly breathe, and doesn’t stop until he gets to dally’s room at buck’s. what if dally tried to offer him a cigarette to calm him down, because jesus he’s never seen two so worked up, and two-bit acted like dally was gonna knife him. what if two-bit begged and pleaded with dally for any information about ponyboy and johnny… “please, dal, you gotta tell us where they are, just tell me that they’re okay.”
god the possibilities are endless and they’re all fucking devastating.
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jjkarmy091 · 2 days ago
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Second Best- Jungkook (part 2 )
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
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A few days after her conversation with Sewoon the news of them getting together came out and that day Y/n cried her eyes out the whole night after coming home from work. She wasted a box of tissue and ate a tub of ice cream. The next day her eyes were red and swollen with blotchy cheeks. She couldn’t care less though. In the next few hours she did try making herself look presentable tho. Her eyes back to its colour and her hair tied up in a sleek ponytail, she tried smiling often to numb the pain inside and she succeeded, like always.
Unintentionally, she distanced herself from them. Always being busy or taking up more shifts in the coffee shop and burying herself in completing her manuscript. 
Sometimes there was this bitter feeling about it since she was the bridge that connected the two of them but now she was left all alone. It has been more than a week and she still felt numb. 
She keeps going on with her same routine. Go to work, finish her manuscript and just sleep. She’s doing okay, at least that’s what she is trying to convince herself.
Jungkook and Sewoon took notice of Y/n’s change in act but let it go. Sewoon felt guilty about it. She felt like Y/n hasn’t fully moved on from Jungkook but did nothing about it. She was happy after all. Jungkook on the other hand felt like there was a hole in his heart that even Sewoon couldn’t fill up. It was a weird thing, however, the two didn’t take any action about it.  
They would usually come to the coffee shop as a date and ordered something. During those times they would include Y/n and talk to her. Which sometimes Y/n couldn’t do it because there were too many customers. Aside from that, the three haven’t crossed paths with each other. One day, Sewoon came by to Y/n’s house late at night bawling her eyes out. Y/n’s heart plummeted watching her friend breaking down. With no question asked, Y/n’s scooped her up and hugged her trying to soother her down.  
When Sewoon’s breathing was more relaxed, she let go and decided to go to the kitchen to make her a cup of her favourite tea. Sewoon smiled gratefully and her eyes were still laced with guilt and regret.  
“you okay Sewoon?” Y/n asked her softly and she shook her head. “What happened?”  
“Taehyung came back.” Sewoon looked down and shook her head again as if she was trying to erase that moment.  
“And?” Y/n asked, encouraging her to continue. 
“I broke up with Jungkook.”  
“What?” Y/n’s eyes went bulged open and spat her drink. 
“It’s not fair for Jk when sometimes I would still think of Tae. And him coming back just finally gave me the push I needed. I can’t Y/n. I can’t. I’m such a horrible person.” Sewoon started rambling and all Y/n could do was to stand up and give her atight hug, allowing her to know that she’s there and will have her back. 
“I missed you so much, Y/n.” Sewoon whispered as Y/n squeezed her. “I missed you too, Sewoon-shi.”  
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone for Jungkook. I knew you still liked him, but I still did. I’m such a horrible friend.” Sewoon spoke as she looked at Y/n with guilt. 
Y/n sighed and pulled her into another hug. “I told you to go for it and you did. It’s okay” Sewoon sobbed louder and felt grateful that her best friend, indeed had the biggest heart. Just like Jungkook told her a few weeks ago. But you would never know, would you? 
-- 
After Sewoon broke up with Jungkook, the relationship between Y/n and him never really recovered. It took a month before Jk was able to visit Y/n’s coffee shop again. She tried to be professional and ignore her feelings and serve him like a normal costumer. Sometimes she would even ask her Sana to attend Jungkook instead of her. Other times they would talk normally but they wouldn’t acknowledge the elephant in the room. But one thing that never changed was the fact that Jungkook never stopped talking about Sewoon. It lessened but it never really stopped, just like her feelings toward him and it hurts her to see him feeling so down because of her best friend.
Jungkook used to come over in the afternoon before meeting Sewoon. Then, they started to have their little coffee dates around that time but even since the breakup he would come more often late at night.  
Jungkook was staggering as he reached the stool bar. His eyes were droopy and sad and his voice rough and hoarse. “You were gone as soon as Sewoon arrived.” He said. Y/n turned her head and raised an eyebrow, “Drunk much?”  
Jungkook groaned and shook his head. She took a deep breath and couldn’t believe what she was looking at. “You said you would never drink alcohol to this point Jungkook. What the hell. Are you trying to put yourself in danger or something? ” Y/n said softly as she cleaned the other tables. 
Jungkook followed her and placed his hand over hers. “Y/n, talk to me.” He pleaded. Y/n’s eyes looked up and placed her hand over his and push it off slowly. “I am talking to you right now, am I not?” She answered nonchalantly. 
Jungkook tightened his grip on her and said, “N-no, no, you’re not. You’re just hearing me out. Y-you used to talk to me for hours and now? It’s just different Y/n.” His voice cracked in the end that shattered her in million pieces. 
“My best friend broke up with you. What am I supposed to do?” Y/n ran through her hair with her fingers showing a sign of frustration.  
“I don’t know. Be my friend?” Jungkook grunted as it was the most obvious thing ever. Y/n looked at him and his gaze immediately softened. “I was once your friend too remember?.” 
“I still am, right?” He whispered with worry laced in his voice. Y/n couldn't help but sigh and walked back towards him. “Of course.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a hug. He snuggled his face closer to the crook of her neck and sighed deeply too. They found comfort in each other’ touch. Her face is muffled under his thick black sweater and she held him as tight as he did. It was almost as if she glued all the broken pieces.  
It was more than another month that their relationship progressed. They were close to one another again. With Sewoon moving to a new state to chase her career, Jungkook and Y/n found more time to spend with each other.  
“So, which movie do you wanna watch?” He asked while walking the both of you to the cinema. 
“I don’t know, what do you wanna watch?” Y/n answered back while Jungkook put a hand behind her back guiding her inside. He chuckled,   
“I kinda wanna watch that horror movie that just came out, have you heard of it?”  
“THE WHAT MOVIE?!” Y/n asked raising her voice, slightly alarmed. Jungkook’s grin widened, “The new horror movie. Don't tell me you're gonna be scared” He said smoothly. Y/n cleared her throat and said “Well horror movies aren't exactly my thing.” Her voice wavered at the end.  
“Yeah well, kinda too late to change. I bought the ticket earlier today.” He said while scratching his head a bit. A sign that he’s nervous Y/n would leave. 
“Okay.” Y/n sighed and took a deep breath. "Okay." She repeated. “Don’t worry Y/n, I’ll protect you.” Jungkook said with a mocking tone that made her rolled her eyes and say. “Shut up.”  
Jungkook laughed, throwing his head back and squinting his eyes. He shook his head with a light smile on his face. “It’s okay, you can hold onto me when you’re scared.” He said while lightly tugging her hand to sling it against his arm. 
“You wish!” Y/n said while pinching as much skin as she could on his arm. Jungkook was unaffected by this and so he laughed. Y/n laughed back and let her arms tugged under his. Both hands locked together the whole night for comfort. 
-- 
As bad as it looked like, as soon as Sewoon and Jungkook broke up, the relationship between her and her best friend recovered. Her relationship with Jungkook was also stable and strong. 
Y/n smiles more often and laughs more often with her eyes all crinkled and her head thrown back. Her smile was genuine after so long faking it.  
One night, Sewoon came back for Y/n as surprise. Y/n was busy typing down her manuscript when there was a sudden knock on her door. She opened it just to see Sewoon standing with two gorgeous dresses.  
Y/n squealed as she saw her and tackled her in a bear hug. “Okay, stop choking me! We’re going to a bar tonight and enjoy ourselves. C'mon girl!” 
-- 
The bar was filled with Sewoon’s gorgeous friends. There was a girl with a curly hair wearing a satin like yellow dress and she looks absolutely gorgeous. There was another one with a jet black hair flowing down her back beautifully, the green colour dress brought a beautiful contrast to her fair skin tone. There was a blonde girl aswell wearing a blue dress that showcases her beautiful long legs. 
It’s not helping any of Y/n’s confidence being filled with all these confident beautiful people. As soon as Sewoon and Y/n stepped into the bar, everyone rushed over to Sewoon, asking her how was she, what was her next project. All the attention was directed to them, more precisely her. 
Y/n stirred away and walked towards the bar stool, where everyone left to meet Sewoon. She felt uneasy with all the attention she was receiving even if it wasn’t meant for her. 
“Wow, aren’t you beauty itself?” A familiar voice echoed. Y/n turned around and saw her best friend, jungkook. 
“What are you doing here?!” She asked feeling excited to recognize someone from the crowd. 
“I’m invited here, silly.” He chuckled. She was about to ask him more questions until she saw his eyes widened and the colour of his cheek slowly faded. She turned around and saw her other best friend, Sewoon, staring at him in shock until her lips curled up and walked towards him. 
Y/n saw Jungkook swallowed a lump and flashed her a smile. “It’s nice to see you Jk.” Sewoon’s velvety voice chimed in. Y/n felt like her last piece of confidence crumpled into pieces as soon as she saw Jungkook blushing.  
He never blushed talking to a girl but Sewoon. He never paid that attention to anyone but her. How funny. “It’s nice to see you too Sewoonie. You look absolutely stunning, as always” He whispered the last part but Y/n heard him loud and clear. She smiled and said a soft “Thank you.” And excused herself to talk to her manager.  
Jungkook smiled at her longingly and Y/n heart breaks even more. Is it possible to be jealous when you have no right to be? 
“Stop drooling over my best friend please.” Y/n said and laughed it off with a sting on your heart.  
“Your best friend is a hell of a woman Y/n, you can’t blame me.” He answered while his head was over his shoulder looking at Sewoon, who was talking animatedly to her manager. He was smiling and he looked down for a second shaking his head. 
Y/n took a deep breath and asked softly, “You okay?” Jungkook nodded his head and looked back at Y/n with an emotion plastered on his face that Y/n can’t detect. 
“You still love her, huh?” Y/n said while her jealousy was clawing up her heart. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her.” Jungkook answered in a defeated tone.  
Y/n’s heart deflated and nodded understandingly. “One day you’ll find someone who loves you more than you love her.”  
“Really?” He asked looking unsure and smiled towards the end, “I don’t think that’s possible.”  
“Why not?” Y/n questioned him. “No one can love someone as much as I love her.” He answered quickly while shaking his head. 
Y/n wanted to tell him he was wrong. There is actually someone who loves him more than he loves her and that someone could ever love him. That person is Y/n herself. But Y/n couldn’t find the courage to say that so she put her arms over his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Jungkook’s arm encircled Y/n's and his face nuzzled closer to her neck. She could feel the hot breath of Jungkooks through his nose as Y/n was rubbing soothingly on his back. 
They stood still on each other’s embrace for a moment until Y/n pulled away softly and whispered to his chest. “You can’t measure other people love for others. You do not know that, Kookie.” 
Y/n looked up and Jungkook was already staring at her. She smiled softly and said, “Trust me. You’ll find someone better for you. Someone who will put you first and love you the right way” Jungkook nodded his head and lightly squeezed Y/n’s hip. He leaned in closer to her and pressed his soft lips against her cheek and murmured “Thank you for everything Y/n. I really mean it. For some reason I always remember everything you tell me. Hope you find someone who loves and treats you the same way aswell. ” Y/n laughed and whispered to herself "I wish Jungkook, i really did wish that", not understanding that Jungkook heard every single word, leaving him confused as to why such an amazing woman like you would even be conflicted finding someone who could love her just right. Only if he knew, that all she ever wanted was to be loved by him.
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Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf
And here ends part 2. Hope you like it! I'm so invested on this one, since is also my first baby. Tell me things you'd like to see. feel free to share you thoughts with me so we can get this even better! Thank you for the support.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 hours ago
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young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires
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a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago
polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 
warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex
word count: 3511
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.” 
Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom. 
Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?” 
Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”
“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?” 
Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.” 
“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?” 
Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.
“Y-yes.” 
As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd. 
Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch. 
Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner. 
“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”
Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”
“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”
A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”
“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.” 
Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries. 
“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again. 
“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”
Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”
“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height. 
As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp. 
Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away. 
“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well. 
Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach. 
As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder. 
“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”
Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”
“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”
And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor. 
Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.
You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into. 
“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”
“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”
“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”
“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone. 
The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”
“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”
For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you. 
Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown. 
“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step. 
Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”
“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”
“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”
“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”
“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself. 
“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”
“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing. 
“From London?”
“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”
“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”
Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”
“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”
“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways. 
Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear. 
“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...” 
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The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed. 
Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin. 
Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.
“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core. 
Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further. 
The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.
When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you. 
But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner. 
Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows. 
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare. 
Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–” 
“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.” 
Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.” 
Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.
The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest. 
Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you. 
You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.
“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 
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Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder. 
Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”
Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”
You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour. 
Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear. 
“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”
“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth. 
The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin. 
As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear. 
“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound. 
Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you. 
As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.  
“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?” 
“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…” 
Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?” 
Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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ramblingautisticman · 1 day ago
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Hey, what do you think about Logan having
chronic pain, from his metal bones?
That would be hard on the joints
So, I LOVE this headcannon. Like- alot.
It would make complete sense that Logan would have aches and pains due to the metal encasing his bones, and the claws in between his knuckles.
His hands would ache a lot. I know that he was born with his mutations- so I'll assume his body at least partly is built to accommodate his claws- but that doesn't mean he doesn't get pains.
The skin being constantly opened and healing again and again and again has got to hurt. Even if just a little. The skin is already slightly thinner there, so the fact the claws are constantly breaking it and his body is constantly healing it? That leaves the skin between his knuckles sore and sensitive to the touch.
The claws probably scrap against the muscle and other bones in his hand too- especially after the metal is added. The metal means his bones are alittle thicker- obviously- so the claws are gonna be slightly wider than they used to be. There will be less space for them in between his knuckles, less space for his muscles to sit comfortably- and he can feel that dull ache in his muscles constantly.
It's more painful when it's warmer in the summer or when it's colder in the winter.
His whole body aches then. The metal in his bone shrinks in the cold- and it leaves his bones sore everytime. There isn't much he can do for it either, it's hard to heat his whole body up, and it hurts. It leaves him layed up in bed for a few days at a time, and no matter what he does, it seems like nothing helps.
In the summer- especially during heat waves- the metal expands. It leaves him hot, sweaty, and miserable. It makes his skin itch and his muscles ache. The feeling of burning from the inside out isn't fun, and neither is the feeling of his muscles and organs being squeezed by the metal now touching them.
He has good days- days where the healing seems to catch up with it- and bad days where he can't move.
Luckily, Wade gets it. Wade has the same kind of issues, and when Logan can't move, he is spoiled with warm drinks, his favourite snacks, and a lot of cuddling.
(Did I do any scientific research for this? No. Do I care? No.)
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amphitriteswife · 1 day ago
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If you’re on your period
@yue-yolk
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‘Okay what’s up with you? You’re not laughing at my jokes.’ jaegyeon na asked you with a hint on irritation in his voice. His hands gripping the steering wheel of his car even tighter. He disliked it when you didn’t respond to him with the most utter care in the world. It reminded him of how the other kings treat him. Perhaps your behavior is because he was talking about Initial N? ‘I’m just super exhausted that’s all.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I’m tired.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because i just got out of work?’ ‘Oh….why?’ ‘Goddamit just leave me alone.’ ‘Well sorry for asking.’ He replied in a passive aggressive manner. The silence that followed obly gave away the irritation the both of you felt for each other. Why couldn’t he just take a hint? Is he really that oblivious? And it’s not like he’ll say sorry, he’s too prideful when it comes to apologizig. ‘I’m on my period. Sorry for lashing out.’ ‘Oohh…’ jaegyeon replied, the realization hit him so suddenly when you said that before it turned into guilt. He was being super pushy and the thought of you being uncomfortable because of the pain you were in didn’t even cross his mind. How could he call himself your boyfriend while he didn’t even know this? He felt so embarrassed and ashamed to not have recognized this sooner. ‘Im so sorry…do you want a hug?’ He asked you in slightly softer tone than usual, he knew the hug wouldn’t help a lot but he still wanted to at least give you a sense of comfort. ‘I think i would like that, but this time please at home. I dont want to get into an accident because of your reckless driving’ ‘like i’d ever let Initial N suffer like that. You think I’m crazy?’
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‘Babe i’m on my period.’ ‘Okay.’ The silence after the not so lasting conversation made you a little irritated. Jonggun was outside on the balcony smoking a cigarette, the smell filling your nostrils made you a little more disgusted than usual which caught Jonggun’s attention. ‘What’s wrong?’ He asked rather matter of factly than concerning, his hand pushing the cigarette onto the ashtray to put it out. ‘I know you dislike it when i smoke, but you’re usually at least tolerant..’ the sound of the cigarette being put out filled your ears. Jonggun on the other hand looked at you, the gears in his head turning. ‘Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?’ Jonggun asked you rather bluntly with slightly wider eyes. ‘I just told you i’m on my period you idiot.’ ‘Oh right…i wasn’t listening.’ ‘I figured.’ Jonggun let go of the cigarette which was now laying in the ashtray and took a seat on the sofa on the balcony, the warm wind blowing into his face. He invited you to join him which you declined. Your rejection of his offer made him a little confused. He didn’t say anything but from his eyes you knew he was waiting for an explanation. ‘I need you to go to the store and buy me tampons. And chips. And chocolate, but not the Milka one. The other one. The one i always eat.’ Jonggun did in fact not know what brand you always eat. But he’ll figure it out….he hopes. ‘Why don’t you go?’ ‘Because i don’t want to.’ ‘…’ ‘please.’ Your please sounded more demanding than a question to him, but given the circumstances and because you’re his girlfriend he decided to give into your demands. ‘..fine.’
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‘Well hello sugar, coming to see me while i’m at work?’ ‘No i’m hurt.’ ‘What happend? You fell? I mean i probably blinded you with my glorious presence ahaha.’ ‘I’m on my period babe’ the information made Goo stiffen a little, he never really knew how to engage in something like this since you’re his first girlfriend and not a one night stand. His mind couldn’t comprehend the situation, before all this you were usually on the pill for birth control, so how could this happen? ‘How? I thought your period went extinct after you took the pill?’ The question made you burst out laughing, this grown ass man couldn’t even know one thing about how periods work? ‘First of all, it doesn’t go ‘extinct’ its not some species. Second of all, when you go off the birth control you start having a rather more complicated flow.’ ‘So now you’re bleeding?’ ‘Yea.’ ‘And you’re not going to die of losing blood?’ ‘I hope not.’ ‘Okay…’ Good scratches his head, he felt a little stupid for not knowing this. Perhaps it’s because he never bothered to actually learn about the female anatomy. His head was hurting with so much information and he wanted to actually ask some questions. ‘Y/n…’ ‘yeah?’ ‘Does this mean we can’t do it anymore?’ ‘Unless you want to have your shrimp painted red then no.’ ‘Forbidden salsa’ ‘please don’t say things like that again.’ Goo found himself thinking about a lot of things now that he knew this. Did Jonggun know this? Maybe he’s now smarter than Jonggun. Perhaps he can use this against him in battle. ‘So, since you’re now on your period. Does this mean that you say ‘period.’ After every sentence?’ ‘…’
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