#just. How naive of me to think that things would have gotten better.

[poisonheiress]

Someone needs to say it: The "Heaven is actually bad" plot line that Hazbin is based around is useless when you spend more then 2 minutes thinking about Vivzie's Hell and her characters.

Besides it being much too early for this idea, the revelation that Heaven or at least the beings running it aren't good people has little to no impact when the people who are being harmed by this are all horrible people. Stay with me here. None of these people are people who were unfairly brought into hell and we are never ever introduced to someone who was either. Why should we care that Heaven is "evil" and blocking redemption when all the sinners in hell we see are the worst of the worst who would have never gotten in even if it was fair.

For the "Heaven is bad" plot line to actually work, you need people who were just one sin away from Heaven, who would've gotten into Heaven if circumstance hadn't forced them down a path that stole it from them. You need characters who aren't comedic villains but land in the middle of morally grey. Those who deserved to be in Heaven but because Heaven refused to consider their circumstances, they were tossed to burn with people much worse than them. Those are the people who should be your main cast cause those are the people who would actually be impacted by Heaven being bad/ Heaven lying.

Angel dust, for all his trauma, was still part of the mafia and likely had killed people before (showing to almost take joy in it). Husk became an overlord and gambled souls, so he had to have had blood on his hands before hell. Alastor is a serial killer, and the list goes on and on. Sure, these characters are (somewhat) interesting, but they don't make for good characters to have when the key plot line is that Heaven is a scam. Even if that fact is true, none of them were ever going to get there in the first place and this is something we also se in every single background sinner shown in Hell too. They were never close to getting there, so why would they or we care that Heaven is bad when all sinners are shown to be horrific people who are at best in the dark grey area of morality.

If you look at it from the "angel's are unfairly killing sinners" route, it still doesn't work. If the angels are killing them, what makes it different then the sinner on sinner violence that hell is full off? Why is them dying by angels this bad thing when they are just as likely if not 10x times more likely to get knifed in the back by other sinners in hell the other 364 days, especially when everyone here apparently is just as horrible as the next person. You cannot condemn the angels for killing demons and then make a joke of out sinners killing each other and never show sinners who doesn't want to kill people. Life either matters or it doesn't and when the main cast doesn't even show a care for life (outside of Charlie's who's entire flaw is her naivety), why should the audience.

On top of that, Vivzie's whole overpopulation aspect and the Heaven plot line would connect better if she actually had people like those I mentioned above, people who stole to survive but got tossed out cause stealing is technically wrong, people who killed another to protect someone else but were still sent to hell because even though they saved that person's life that person wasn't supposed to be saved, people who passively engaged in sins but never really did anything harmful under them. This would add into how Hell is so overpopulated and highlight why its so important that Heaven is evil/ why Charlie's plan isn't just a naive pathetic fever dream.

In the end, Vivzie should have never made Heaven the central plot of this show nor tried to assign this blatant good vs evil to that conflict. Neither her characters nor her writing choices are able to respond to this conflict in a way that will end or even tell the story in a satisfactory manner.

[fkinavocado]

in which your husband and Harry’s wife dragged you both into a situation you didn’t want to be in, but as it turns out, everything happens for a reason

Loved, heard, seen- Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings 

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Part Two (word count: 3.4k)

“Hello?” Harry brought his phone to his line of vision, making sure he’d actually picked up the call, “Uhm,... hello?”

“Hi. Is this a bad time?”

Harry racked his brain to place the person’s voice, the fact that he didn’t have the number saved in his contacts made it even more difficult. It sounded awfully familiar, though… “Oh! It’s you!”

She never did give him her name. And neither did he, come to think of it. He only gave her his number before she got out of his car after he drove her home. Just in case.

“You remember?”

Harry sighed heavily. “I wish I could forget everything about that night,” he chuckled nervously. “No offence.”

“... I can't forget, either. You were right.”

“Oh?”

“Listen… would it be too… upsetting, if we met up? You’re the only person that’s been in my shoes that I feel I could open up to about this. It’s been… very lonely, eating at me… Maybe talking would help make better sense of it…”

Harry didn’t have to ponder. He’d wanted the same thing all along. He was glad she reached out to him, since he couldn’t contact her. “Name the place.”

*

Harry wondered if he looked as broken as she did but had just gotten used to seeing his miserable face stare back at him in the mirror every day. It’d been close to a month since the… circumstance that had brought the two of them together. Admittedly, he hadn’t paid close attention to her appearance back then, but, seeing her now, he definitely recognized some changes, albeit subtle. She appeared more frail, her under eyes darker, the polish on her nails chipped off, her lips chapped and bitten, her clothes wrinkled. He observed her over the cup of coffee he was sipping on on that rainy afternoon as she talked about how it’d been like trying to move on from that night.

“You were right. I did know, even then, that this was going to ruin us. But I kept lying to myself, thinking I could just pretend it never happened. Hoping that he’d gotten it out of his system and that things would go back to normal. You know I even dared to believe things would get better? I thought maybe this would put things into perspective for him and make him realize what a good thing he’s got going at home… Was I naive or what?”

Harry furrowed his brows compassionately, “You and I both. Believe it or not, I also hoped for the same. But, assuming things went for you guys the same way they did for us… it wasn’t quite the case, was it?”

She shook her head solemnly, staring into her cup of coffee. “He never asked me how things went on my side. He doesn’t even know I never went through with it. The following morning, he called me at around 11am. That’s… extremely late for him. He’s an early bird, chronically so. He’d been clearly… distracted. So when I told him I’d already taken an uber home he didn’t question it. He then came home and acted like everything was normal. He didn’t talk about it, I never asked him any questions. He didn’t care to ask me any, either… I wouldn’t say we’re pretending like nothing ever happened, because that’s not it at all. This… unspoken, huge thing that happened is always looming over us. Now whenever he’s late from work, he doesn’t even tell me why he’s late. It’s like… I know why. I don’t have to ask. He doesn’t have to tell me.”

“Jesus…”

The woman nodded, fidgeting with the corner of her paper napkin. “Things are better at your end, then?”

Harry almost laughed at her assumption, “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know which of us has it worse. When I got home after I dropped you off, I called her again and it went straight to voicemail for the hundredth time, so I texted her letting her know I went home and to call me to go get her if she didn’t feel like ubering. She never called for me to get her, thank god, but when she walked through the door and I asked her how her ride was she told me the guy had driven her. I was speechless, she’d actually disclosed where she lived, what else did she share with him? Aside from the obvious… Like, was this gonna be a thing now, between the two of them? I had so many questions, but then I couldn’t really say anything, could I? Since I offered to drive you, too. I’m fairly certain their report in that regard was much different to ours though… but even still, I couldn’t get myself to tell her off for it. I mean… he fucked her. Did the fact that he knew where she lived really make it worse?...”

Harry sat back in his chair, forcing himself to take a breather and calm down a bit. He was getting worked up. But when she encouraged him to keep going, and his restless leg wouldn’t stop bouncing beneath the table he gave in. “She was fucking beaming! She wouldn’t stop talking about what a good thing this is for us, how finally she feels like she can breathe, how she can’t believe we waited so long to try this… confirmed that she’d already made plans with this guy for the following weekend. I just froze. I couldn’t believe she was really saying all that. She never really asked me how things went for me, either. She just kept putting words in my mouth. See? Wasn’t it fun? You’re such a lucky bastard, men can only dream they could be in your shoes with their wives giving them this much freedom! Hell, even pushing them to do it! Can you imagine? You’re living the dream, baby.”

“Oh, God…”

“Then… one night soon after that she wanted to play and, brokenhearted fool that I am, I went along with it even though what I really wanted was for us to sit down and really talk about it. But I just couldn’t get myself to open up the subject, mainly because I already knew what her stance on it was and what it would lead to, and I wasn’t ready for that… kept thinking I could try doing this to save our marriage. I’d agreed to it, even though she’d coerced me into it if i’m being honest… but I did agree. I couldn’t blame her for the repercussions, I knew what I was getting into. So I felt like I had to see it through, had to try and make it work… 

“So when she came to me all loving, and I missed her so much, I gave in, I needed to feel like us again… Make her forget about anyone else. Make her only want me. And then… in the midst of what I thought was one of my best sexual performances… she tells me she wants to try something this guy had asked her to do to him and I–... fucking lost it. I jumped out of that bed as if it were on fire. I’m sure I could’ve handled it more maturely but I locked myself in the bathroom before I said something I would regret. She kept pleading from the other side to open up and talk to her, tell her what was the matter. I realized all I had to say to her were hurtful things. I chickened out when I opened the door and saw how genuinely worried she was. She literally has no clue what I’ve been going through since that night… in her head, we’re heading in the right direction and this is only going to bring us closer. 

“So, I asked her not to tell me about any of it, going further, and promised I’d do the same. That I couldn’t handle talking about it. At least not for a while… She agreed, said she totally gets it. And then we went back to bed and I never got to see what that son of a bitch asked her to do to him because ever since, I’ve avoided all her advances. She keeps making little quips such as uh-oh, running out of stamina huh? Save some for me next time. Then she giggles and asks me to just spoon her instead and I just sit there for hours on end mulling everything over while she’s sleeping soundly in my arms.”

The woman sat silent for a long while, visibly saddened. “Jack never initiates sex anymore. Like… at all. I don’t know If I’m glad for it or if I should feel even more hurt. I’m not sure I feel anything at all anymore. I feel… numb.”

“... Me too.”

After a long pause Harry added, muttering, “Fitting name, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Since he’s such a jackass.”

The woman laughed, which made Harry smile in return. He wondered whether this was the first time the two of them had done so since that night. 

“You must have a really nice name, then.”

Harry’s smile lingered. “In that case, I’m sure the same goes for you.”

“You first.”

“It’s Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah. See? Nice names for nice folk. Wouldn’t hear of people with such names going around causing so much heartache, would you?”

“Absolutely not. Felicity is also… fitting in a way. Only cares about her own happiness.”

Harry gave her a look. “You actually remember my wife’s name?”

“Yeah, it’s a rare name, stuck with me.”

“True. And you’re right about her. I’ve always known it… But nobody’s perfect. Thought I could compromise on some stuff. Didn’t realize it would compromise our marriage in the end.”

“That’s… pretty huge, Harry. I know it sounds awful, but hearing you say so valides my own feelings. Like, I worried I was overreacting, thinking my marriage is over because of this. But that’s just how I feel. I can’t see us ever recovering from this mess.”

“Neither can I. It’s killing me on the inside the longer I go along with it. And even if I do speak up about it… I know it’ll never go back to how things were, which admittedly, weren’t great to begin with. This whole thing kinda helped put everything into perspective. She was right, we did need something else, be both did… I was willing to do whatever to please her, but that’s not exactly feasible in the long run. It was just a matter of time before we faced some hurdles. We’re just not on the same page sexually. I was just fooling myself thinking I could deny my own needs and that she could suppress hers.”

“So… what now?”

They both sat in silence for a long while, the coffee had gone cold and the rain outside was pouring even stronger than before.

“It’s inevitable. We have to talk to them.”

“...End it?”

Harry nodded solemnly and when her eyes immediately glazed over and she stifled a sob, he reached his hand out to cover hers reassuringly. He moved to sit on the chair next to hers and eventually wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, bringing her in to rest her head on his own. She tried to keep quiet, not to disturb the cafe’s patrons, and he gently shushed her reassuringly, telling her everything was going to be alright. Willing himself to believe it, too.

*

Almost two weeks had passed when Harry finally decided to text Y/N. He’d been apprehensive about it, knowing she must’ve been hurting, but also, he felt guilty for not going through with what he himself had suggested was inevitable. He hadn’t broken things off with his wife. Worse, he’d actually had sex with her, in an effort to still try and save their marriage. He couldn’t finish though, and he’d never reached full mast. Which prompted her to not get off either. It’d been a mess and it ended in Harry crying in the bathroom afterwards while she probably thought he was finishing himself off in the shower. He’d never felt more miserable in his entire life.

Felicity was away for the weekend with her new boy-toy and Harry was feeling seriously on edge. He contemplated just packing his bags and leaving. It was cowardly of him, to be sure, but he felt like he’d never go through with it and actually leave her otherwise. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to her and end things properly, like a man. 

He felt emasculated in every way possible.

H: Hey. It’s Harry. Been meaning to reach out, hope it’s not a bad time… How did things go?

He was in their walk-in closet staring at his clothes and trying to work up his courage to just grab them off the hangers and toss them into the biggest suitcase he could find when she replied.

Y/N: Hey, Harry. I’m the worst… I couldn’t bring myself to do it : ( I don’t know what to do. I can’t do this anymore…

H: Don’t feel bad. I couldn’t go through with it either. But I can’t go on like this…

Y/N: What do we do : (

H: She’s with him right now. 

Y/N: He’s not been home most nights. It’s over without having to even talk about it. I bet if he came back home and I was gone he’d be relieved at this point.

Harry read Y/N’s last text message before deciding to call her since they were both alone anyway. “That’s exactly what I wanna do. Just pack my stuff and be gone before she comes back. Is that… too cowardly, do you think?”

“It’s not. They don’t deserve an explanation. It’s impossible they don’t see we’re hurting. They just choose to ignore it.”

“Let’s just leave.”

“Harry… if you say that again, I just might do it. Like, right now.”

“Let’s rip the band-aid. Let’s do it. I mean it, Y/N. We can do it. We could do it together. Just… I dunno. Go somewhere and turn our phones off and be there for one another, make sure neither of us caves in and goes back… What do you say?” Harry was pumped. He could feel adrenaline surging through him. The thought of actually doing it made him giddy beyond belief. 

Y/N was silent for a long while, all he could hear was his own laboured breathing. But eventually she replied, sounding resolute. “Give me half an hour. We’re doing this, Harry.”

*

Harry had never felt more alive. It was odd, but it was true. He finally felt like he was doing something for himself, in a long, long time. He’d packed his shit in record time, leaving him just enough to drive to Y/N’s. When she didn’t pick up her phone immediately, he felt his heart sink to his stomach. Had she changed her mind? He felt he couldn’t do this without her. But when she eventually picked up with laboured breath, she informed him she was dragging her suitcases to the elevator and couldn’t find her phone in all that rushed chaos. 

Harry wouldn’t take no for an answer, and insisted he’d help her. When she buzzed him in and he reached her floor, he was mildly shocked at the amount of suitcases she’d lined up near the elevator door. He’d only packed his essentials, but Y/N meant business. It looked like she’d packed up her whole life in those bags.

“Oh wow. Ok, alright. Gotta give it to you, you’re a fast packer, considering.”

Y/N smiled at his amused tone, despite her nerves. “I dunno when he’s coming back. Had to be quick. And I knew your SUV could handle all of these.”

“How do you know it’s not already filled up to the brim with my own shit?”

She rolled her eyes when he started loading them up in the elevator, urging her inside to keep the doors open. “Please. You’re a man. I’ll be surprised if you filled two suitcases.”

Harry feigned offence. “It’s three suitcases, alright? Well, two suitcases and a backpack. And I didn’t pack everything. It’s my house, after all.”

Y/N was silent, her smile fading somewhat. “Well, this apartment is his. So…”

Harry kicked himself for opening up that can of worms but the haste in which they loaded her stuff into his truck kept them busy and hopefully took her mind off things for a bit.

When they drove off, for a long time they didn’t even talk about where they’d be going. Harry just drove aimlessly, only making sure they left town on the nearest exit. They couldn’t even use Google Maps as they’d shut their phones off and threw them into the glove compartment in complicity.

They eventually discussed some options. It couldn’t be any of the places they’d been with with their spouses. Not that either of them thought they’d be coming looking for them, but regardless.

Eventually, after driving for a few hours while keeping themselves busy singing along with whatever came on the radio to keep themselves distracted, they decided to just crash at the first decent motel they’d find on their way. It was getting too late to drive safely any further.

They were both giddy at the prospect of crashing at some random motel like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde, still high on the adrenaline rush.

Soon they found themselves in a shabby motel room under a false mr and mrs name. They’d already slept in the same bed before and so the options of getting separate rooms or twin beds weren’t even brought up. They trusted eachother beyond formalities, and besides, the pact was that they would go through this together.

They took turns showering and Y/N called for him from the bathroom when she was finished with hers. “Harry? Ugh, I brought the wrong bag with us…”

“Want me to go get it for you?”

“I mean… I just need something to change into. Do you have some extra pyjamas?”

“Uhm…” Harry didn’t have to check, he knew he’d not packed any extra in his backpack he took with him to the room. “I can give you mine but I’ll have to sleep in a t-shirt. And boxers, of course.”

“Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all. Just… you know. Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, that’s why I clarified…”

“Oh, shush. Can I have them?” She cracked the door open and stuck her hand out. “Oh, also, no knickers. I’ll be sure to wash them for you afterwards.”

Harry faltered mid-undressing, but then rushed to hand her his discarded pyjamas. “Don’t be silly.”

He threw a t-shirt on and got under the covers. Surely she’d seen men in boxers before, he was acting a bit childish. But he really meant it when he told her he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable in any way.

She emerged from the bathroom, all swaddled up in the too-large pyjamas and smiled sheepishly at him, then turned the lights off and joined him on the other side of the bed.

Harry flinched when he thought he’d heard her say something. Had he already drifted off to sleep? That was… definitely surprising. He’d had trouble sleeping ever since– “Did you say something?” He whispered, just in case he’d been mistaken.

“Sorry,” she whispered back, “did I wake you? I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep. Do you always sleep on your back?”

“... Was I snoring?”

Y/N giggled. He smiled into the darkness at the sound. Everything felt so lighthearted and easy with her around, no wonder he’d fallen asleep. “No. But are you a snorer? Because if so, I might have to reconsider this whole arrangement…”

“Oh, shush.” He playfully kicked her leg under the covers, noticing she was closer than he’d gauged. “I think all that driving got to me, plus the adrenaline crush. What did you wanna say?”

“I just wanted to thank you… I don’t think I would’ve gone through with this without you, Harry.”

Harry smiled into the darkness again. He couldn’t see her, but her words really warmed him up. “Same here. Just don’t wake me up at 4am telling me you wanna uber back home, ok?”

She giggled again. “Hell no. You’re stuck with me.”

“...Good.”

Part Three

A/N: soooo. it's gonna be 3 parts, after all 😅😅 thanks to the lovely @freedomfireflies for beta-ing ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[angels-sins0]

i beg you to continue with this fic of ghost, i want reader to gain some strength and make something 😭

Ghost x f!reader

Cw: I apologize in advance, emotionally (un)available Simon, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, slight spoilers for MWIII, brief mention of a developing alcohol addiction, hurt/no comfort, angst, screaming and crying, please don’t kill me for this.

Six months had passed since you last saw Simon. Truth be told, you’ve never felt better than you do right now.

You had moved out of your apartment three months ago after getting a promotion at your job, earning more money than you ever thought of having.

Life was good without him. You didn’t have to worry about getting your feelings hurt anymore.

Simon on the other hand, had been going through the worst months of his life.

He lost a good friend of his while on a mission which resulted in him frequenting the bar close to his house more than he’d like to admit.

Work was hard then and it was even harder knowing he couldn’t see you or hear your soft voice again.

He hated whatever it is he felt when he thought about you and the last time you were together. He despised himself for the way he treated you.

He missed your sweet laugh and the way your eyes lit up each time you saw him even if he proceeded to ruin you moments later.

What was it about you that made him feel weird inside whenever he thought of you? If only he felt that way when you were still with him.

Simon felt like he saw you everywhere around him, like you were with him no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling at first but he had learned to succumb to the comfort it brought him.

It didn’t help that you were the main star in his dreams more often than not. Whether it be dreams where he fought harder to have you back in his life or him fucking you in your bed, a guilty part of him enjoyed the latter.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you, had to look at your face one more time, hold you in his arms and never let you go again.

Simon stood in his apartment and contemplated if he actually wanted to do this.

What if you didn’t want to see him?

What if he was too late and you had found someone who treated you the way you deserved?

He had to try, right? Sure he would be hurt if you didn’t want him anymore but at least he would have some kind of closure.

And so, he made his way to your new place. He had gotten the address from Laswell but not before she made some snarky comment about him finally “getting laid”.

Simon knocked on your door and stood looking down at his feet.

Then you opened the door and he swore his heart could’ve popped out of him at that moment.

“Hey,” he breathed out, but you just stood there, rendered completely speechless by the fact that he was actually in front of you.

“H-how did you find me?” You said after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve got my ways.” He said plainly. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

Should you let him in?

All the while, you both just stared at each other.

“Do you want to…?” What the hell do people even say in these situations?

“Only if you want me to.”

And so, you moved to let him in, closing the door behind you and leading him to sit on the couch.

It was awkward. You didn’t even look at each other, just sat there in silence.

“Why are you here, Simon?” You asked. Why the hell would he show up now?

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about where we left things off.” He looked at you and you nodded slowly at his words.

“And?”

“And I think— I know I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” He sighed, and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“It took you six months to figure that out?” You didn’t know what it was exactly that made you so angry. Was it his audacity to show up after all that time and think you’d be okay with it?

Simon went quiet again.

You stood up from the couch. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me the entire time you were away? How long I spent crying over something that wasn’t real? We had nothing! And i still felt like you were everything to me…even when I knew you’d never feel that way about me. Did you really think that—I would…let you in again after all this time?”

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you, covering your face with your hands to wipe away your tears so he couldn’t see them.

He got up as well, slowly approaching you and he gently pulled you into his arms. You reluctantly relaxed into him, the tears still falling from you.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like this…I wish I was better—i want to be better…” Simon cupped your face with one hand, the other still wrapped around you and placed his forehead on yours.

With your eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized he’d lifted his mask up above his mouth. Your faces were impossibly close and he leaned in to connect your lips together in a kiss.

You felt like you were being controlled by something and it made you kiss him back, even when part of you wanted to push him away.

It went on for a couple of seconds before you eventually pulled back and stared at him.

“Is this what you’re really here for?” You said, voice laced with a hint of anger.

“No! Fuck, no! I wanted to calm y’down and it just happened.”

“I wanna be better and i wanna make you happy but most of all I want you to forgive me for how things were between us.” He was almost pleading, his eyes searching yours for any emotion.

You couldn’t help but scoff.

“All these words…and you still kissed me with your mask on, what does that tell you, Simon?”

He stayed silent. “It tells you that no matter what we have, you’ll never be able to feel like you can let your guard down around me.”

“But i-“

“And if we really decide to do this, what happens when you think i’m not enough or when you feel like you don’t want me anymore? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with that?! It took me six months to start feeling better even though what we had was nothing!”

“You are enough! For fuck’s sakes, you are all I’ve ever wanted!”

“Then show me who you are! I’m never gonna be able to love you if I don’t fucking know you, Simon!”

“You know I can’t do that…”

“Well, then you have your answer…” You looked down, not wanting to see his face anymore.

But he couldn’t look away from you, part of him knowing this was the last time he’d ever see you so he wanted to memorize everything about you.

“I think you should go.” You said, breaking the silence between you. “Please don’t try to come here again.”

You looked up at him and for the first time since you’ve known him, Simon looked hurt. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight of him standing there, trying to salvage whatever this was but ultimately failing.

“Right…”

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Were the last words he spoke before leaving.

On his way home, he had this weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain, it made him realize why he was always so closed off and why he never tried to have something with someone.

Simon has always had this unexplainable fear of being rejected and left alone, and tonight, you invoked that fear further into him.

He had two thoughts that kept circling through his head.

He was never going to love again.

And the second one that pained him every time he would think about it.

You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

@ghost-is-my-bbg , @evehasdied , @darlingvinny , @dragonstoneshortcake , @dest-nai , @imhereforthespice , @graciewacey , @annoyinglysweetobject , @7thsthings , @kaa212 , @rorylover71 , @deareststhings , @dxrak , @ghostslillady , @kazuhyahs , @spookyboogyuniverse , @dangelus , @kenz-ee , @goodkittyspost , @puppybittingotherpuppy , @skulfan1 , @prttylilkittn , @emmalandry , @justgivingupsblog , @simpforfic , @ciggsaftersex , @massiveduckkidcookie , @c3r3al-k1ll3r887 , @riverbutghost , @spxctorslxxt , @marriedtoeddie , @delightfulwolflawyerfreak-blog , @sixxslut , @ghostslittlegf , @tf141glory , @ghostswife141 , @prazinos , @toastedkjeks , @naio-kummer , @sunsetsimon , @livingdead-g1rl , @chimochai , @yo1mamma , @loving-azerath , @lanadelreygirly777

[kentosbabes]

D for an A.

Professor Nanami who walked into class on the first day not expecting to see you, you had met previously at a party hosted by one of his college friends. But there you are, sitting in his lecture hall with a pen in your pretty mouth. Nanami remembered you vividly, your aura and beauty brought men from all ends of the house to right in front of you. He can remember the drunk kids you shared on a dare. Nanami can see you conversing with another classmate of yours, your head flogging back with a laugh on your lips.

Professor Nanami hated how you made him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. He feels an unbridled desire for you, it shakes him to his very core. He knows he shouldn’t like you like that. It’s wrong, its perverse, you’re so innocent and naive to the ways of an older man. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you, which is becoming an increasingly difficult way to suppress his emotions. Nanami fucks his fist with your name on his tongue and your face flicking through his mind in a post-orgasmic state. It makes it much harder to see you the next day for class.

He was nervous, Professor Nanami asked you to stay back after a mock exam. He noticed you haven’t been yourself for a couple days, your usually high exam results have taken a hit. You’re one of his more intelligent students, so seeing you do so bad? It infuriated him. He knows you can do better so that was probably why he asked you to stay back. “I’m disappointed in you and your attitude to my class, do you feel like you don’t have to try so hard because you get good results anyways in the real thing?” Your eyes start to well up and Nanami realises you might actually cry in front of him, “I just want to know why, that’s all, so I can best support you.”

Professor Nanami was shocked when you told him the that the reason why you weren’t doing so well was because of you break up with your boyfriend. You broke it off mutually due to compatibility reasons but it didn’t hurt any less. Nanami was only wishing that he could make you feel better, perhaps go down on you or fuck you till you forget his name and who he was.

It was awkward for Professor Nanami and you after your random breakdown in his office, he was strangely an excellent listener. The kiss you shared at the party was initiated by the crowd chanting and the haziness from the hella drinking you did for your friend's birthday. You assumed he'd want to bring it up but all he gave you were lustful stares when he thought you weren't watching, but you would have to be blind to not notice his darkening gaze when you spoke or looked at him.

You confer with your friend about Professor Nanami and she aptly suggests you need a rebound and he seems single and ready to fuck. Thus began operation D for an A. Nanami noticed a lack of effort on your part in his class work, he asked around and it seemed like this was an issue in his class and his class alone. What was different about him? He told you to stay back to discuss your recent performance in class.

Professor Nanami looked good enough to eat, your plan was simple, to fuck him and rebound from your ex. Hopefully, he's down as well. He asked you to stay back and you hope he's finally gotten the hints you have been giving him all week, including the dropped items you bent down to get and sucking all manners of items like pens and lollipops. He locked the door, "Darlin' we need to talk about your grades." You look up at him and decide to be a brat, "well, have I been a bad girl? Maybe you need to punish me?"

Professor Nanami was not expecting this at all. His eyebrows raised to his hairline, you wanted him? Why? You were under a decade his junior. He stepped forward and put your chin in between his index finger and thumb. "Oh really?" He teased, he would think about the practicalities of this relationship later, right now you're too irresistible for him to resist. You lean in to kiss him and it is nothing you have ever felt before, the sheer practice and experience made you feel out of your depth.

His cock twitched at the thought of you cucking on his dick like you teased him with that god-forsaken lollipop. Lord knows how you pictured yourself on your knees sucking Professor Nanami's cock in his office. The thrill of getting caught somehow made you even wetter if that was possible. You don't know what prompted you to be so promiscuous, but this worked for him. You closed the gap between you and started to unbuckle his trousers, looking up through your eyelashes for permission.

Professor Nanami nodded and you pulled his black boxers down alongside his trousers. His cock was hardening under your touch, it was like nothing you have ever seen before, definitely, the largest you have ever sucked. You wonder if it's even going to fit in your mouth. His grunts and groans sound melodic to you as you kitten-lick him to get used to his size. You breathe through your nose, a tip learnt from your friends but never got to use due to your ex's uselessness in bed. Taking a breath and sucking, deep-throating him. Your cheeks hollowing and tears streaking your face almost made him cum right there and then.

Professor Nanami could've taken you right there on his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you and fuck you senselessly so you forget that ex-boyfriend of yours. He could feel himself drawing to a close, right on the edge, "Doll, I'm going to cum," he pauses, "good girls swallow, can you do that for me? hm?" He throws his head back with a whine caught in his throat, you swallowed. You actually swallowed his seed because he asked, the image of white cum leaking out of your mouth and streaked makeup could've made him fuck you right there.

You ask Professor Nanami for a second round at his place. "Obviously, I still need to fuck you so well you forget his name."

Masterlist

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

I have an idea I would love to request but I wanted to check with you first! I couldn't help but think Astarion would be so infuriated & confused by me. Like when he held a knife at their throat, they're willing to give him a chance. Their reason is he has no real reason to trust them since he doesn't know them at all so they would show to him that they can be trusted. Then he's more confused when the first time he tries to drink blood from them, reader is shocked then immediately asks questions if it hurts, do they need to be healed, how should their position be so it's easier for him to drink, what would happen after that, etc. Even after he drank & they were feeling the effects, they asked if he still needed more. He answered them no confusedly before they were satisfied with his answer then passed out. He is both relieved and baffled at what just happened. What do you think of this? Please tell me if you're not interested! Thanks!

Local Vampire Spawn confused by care and offers of friendship, more at eleven.

~

Astarion, surprisingly, had gotten pretty lucky when it came to his newfound traveling companions. Two master swordsmen, a barbarian tiefling menace, and a Shar priestess were about the best one could ask for when it came to having protection. He could probably do without the do-gooder druid and walking time bomb of a wizard, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

And then there was you. The unofficial leader of the merry band of weirdos. Hyper competent, kind, and a powerful, and admittingly gorgeous, warrior. You would be perfection if you weren't so... frustrating.

Simply put, Astarion thought you were an idiot. A well-meaning, naive idiot, but a moron nonetheless.

What other explanation was there for your delusional trust in him? Your introduction had involved him pressing a damned blade to your throat, with every intent to kill you if you decided to struggle. Maybe even if you hadnt, if you had been alone. The correct response to a first meeting of that caliber would be to completely disregard him. Or kill him, for someone who had any conception of self-preservation.

But no, instead you gave him the offer to come with you, like that wasn't an absolutely insane thing to do. You had been so understanding, insisting that his penance for trickery and threats was justified. That you would be sure to earn his trust, like that was something worth obtaining.

At first, Astarion tried not to look too deeply into it. You were all going through hell, it made sense to travel in a pack, to find solidarity in others while trapped in a land full of endless horrors. It would explain why you kept the violate gith and the walking bomb around, despite their faults. There was also that foolish air of empathetic care about you at all times that helped explain things, one that extended far past Astarion himself. Though it did have limits. Astarion had borne witness to how unforgiving you could be when someone manipulated your trust. Though he completely agreed that the Hag known as Auntie Ethel fully deserved a slow, painful death, he hadn't been prepared for just how... literal you would take it.

So while you weren't completely without common sense, you still lacked a good deal of it. Like the fact that letting a vampire spawn drink your blood at night wasn't included in those same limits.

He hadn't even meant to open that particular door of feeding on you. It was just... so terribly hard to resist. You smelled divine, the scent of your blood always lingering beneath the surface of your skin. Cloying and decadent, the slightest whiff nearly enough to make his mouth water. He had been trying so damn hard to hide his true nature, feeding on whatever he could find in the dead of night. But none of it felt like enough. It should have been, he had more access to sustenance in the forest than he ever had under Cazedor's thumb. And wild boar were certainly better than sewer rats at the least.

But it wasn't enough to tame his growing desire for your taste. It had just happened. One moment he was simply on his own bedroll, staring up at the stars. And in the next the hunger was overtaking him. He was crawling over you before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his mouth already widening.

And then you woke-up, startled enough to knock Astarion out of his all-consuming thirst. You scrambled to your feet, staring at him with wide eyes as he struggled through an explanation. He had every expecation that this was it. This as the moment you would toss him to the side, realizing once and for all that he wasn't worth the danger.

But instead you just nodded along, the first question out of your mouth when he finished a simple, "Will it hurt?"

Astarion blinked at you, confused at you lack of reaction. He had admitted to being a literal monster for gods' sake. And that's what you were most curious about?

"Yes," Astarion said slowly, watching your face for every microexpression, "It will hurt, briefly. Then the pain fades into something a bit more... tolerable."

You nodded, asking another question, "Would I need healing after? Or would a bandage be enough? I would hate to wake Shawdowheart so late."

That was-he-were you actually considering this?

Astarion shook his head, hope and excitement starting to bubble to the surface, "No, a bandage should be fine. You might want her to top you off with something in the morning, but it won't be anything that can't wait."

"Okay," You said, nodding to yourself once before meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, "In that case, should I lay down? Or would standing be better?"

Astarion could scarcely believe your willingness. Part of him wanted to ask if you were sure that you wanted to do this, but his sheer lust for the taste of your blood shut that part down. Instead Astarion was reaching for your hand, gently tugging you down to lay back on your bedroll.

"This will be perfect," He murmured as he crawled back over you, his fangs protruding on their own accord, "Now stay still darling, we don't want to tear anything, do we?"

Astarion could just make out a lovely flush grace your cheeks at the pet name, barely visible by the campfire. It was a good look on you, that mixture of embarrassment and nerves, one that he wouldn't mind seeing again. But for now he had other appetites to attend to.

Astarion bit down, nearly moaning when the divine taste hit his tongue. Somehow it managed to taste even better than it smelled, warm ambrosia sliding down his throat, filling him with pure energy. It was an exhilarating experience, so much better than anything he'd ever tasted before. It was nearly too good, decadent enough for him to feel greedy.

He could feel you shaking under him, letting out the occasional whimper and whine. He was vaguely aware that this had been going on for too long, that he was taking too much. But it was so damn hard to resist.

It wasn't until you were gently pushing at him, whimpering, "I-I think that's enough."

There was the slightest touch of fear in your voice, the only thing that worked to pierce through his bloodthirsty haze. Astarion rolled off of you, licking his lips with a happy sigh. That was... better than he could ever have imagined.

He hopped up to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you do the same. You seemed woozy and unsteady as you stood, proving his suspicion that he had taken too much. It made the smallest lick of guilt creep up his spine. But it's not like you were ever going to let him do it again, he might as well indulge-

"Are you sure that was enough?" You asked, completely derailing his train of thought, "Will you be okay with just that? Or should we try again in a few hours?"

Were you actually insane?

"No my friend. I think I'll be fine," Astarion said carefully, "Another night perhaps. But, uh, are you okay?"

You shrugged, already sinking back down to your knees, snuggling back into your bedroll like nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm sure I will be. Just a little tired now is all. Good night."

And then you were closing your eyes, out like a light while Astarion stood above you. Confused beyond belief. That was... how were you still alive? If this was the kind of thing you were willing to do for a near stranger, with nearly 0 reservations?

It was insane, idiotic, stupid. And now you just fell asleep right in front of the same man who cannibalized your blood? What the fuck was that? How was one supposed to respond to that? Astarion was grateful yes, beyond so. He went on to have a very successful hunt, even if his catches tasted worse than ever, they still left him feeling satisfied and capable. But he was plagued with thoughts of you the entire time. Thoughts that followed him through to the morning and the days to come.

You were so damn lucky that he was the spawn that was kidnapped. Half of his brethren would have already used your trust to bleed you dry before fleeing into the night. Gods knows what would have happened to you if it was Cazador who was taken in his place. That thought alone was enough to make shiver, clouding his brain with a massive discomfort at what someone like that would do with someone as... kind as you.

Astarion would never allow it. As stupid as you were, it didn't mean you deserved to be used. Well... by anyone besides himself of course. He was starting to think that he could use all of this blind trust to his advantage. Get you attached to him, force himself as a priority in your life that was worth protecting. But for that to happen you would have to stay alive. And that would mean someone would have to protect you from your infuriating self.

Astarion supposed that would just have to be his job. What it meant that the idea of doing such didn't fill him with resentment? He wasn't sure, and he sure as hells wasn't going to try and find out.

[hazbinhotelie]

Could you do something where Alastor finds a reader who is so innocent and free of sin he has no idea how they ended up in Hell.

Extra points if the reader is so innocent they sell him their soul with no idea what they've done.

(Please make it Soft Alastor though)

TW: mention of suicide. It’s only brief. Everything else is fine!

“There we go! Now the deal is sealed and done,” Alastor said with a grin, rolling up the contract. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear.”

“Same to you, Al,” I said with a smile.

We stood in his house- apparently he owned a hotel or something, it was just busy at the moment. He said his place would be safer, anyway. Away from other sinners who could hurt me. It made sense to me. I looked around at the old wallpaper, the portraits and decorations. It was nice. Cozy, even.

“Hm,” he said. I turned my attention back to him. He seemed to be thinking about something- about me, judging by the way he was looking at me. “Tell me, why did you sell me your soul?”

“You said you’d protect me,” I said lightly, nonchalant. “I gave you my soul, so now I’m safe from any other demon. You’ve given me a place to stay, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I’m new here and incredibly weak, I’d have died within moments without you. It only makes sense.”

“Yes, but…” he paused for a moment, contemplating whether he should even continue. He had my soul, he’d gotten what he wanted, there was no need to press for information. Still, he found himself curious. “But now I own you. You have to do what I say. You don’t even know me. Were in hell and you followed me to my house willingly and sold your soul to me. Doesn’t that seem like a bad idea?”

“Eh,” I said, giving him a small shrug. I smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You were the only sinner that spared me a second glance, the only one that was nice to me. That doesn’t make you a good person, but… well…” I sighed. “I figure it makes you better than the others. At least, better to be around. Better to sell my soul to you than some random demon pointing a gun to my head.”

“So… what you’re saying is, you sold your soul to me because I’ve been cordial and not outright mean or rude,” he said. He seemed surprised, as if it were unexpected.

“I mean… it shows that you have standards, at least,” I said sheepishly. “If you’re typically nice and composed, it means I’m safer with you. If I made a deal with a demon that’s always angry and lashing out at others, I could easily be hurt or killed by them.”

“But…” he seemed dumbfounded. He shook his head in disbelief, then turned around and started pacing the room. “This makes no sense,” he muttered. “Say, what is it that got you into hell? You seem awfully nice and… well, naive, to be a sinner at all.”

I shrugged and looked away. “I dunno.”

He stopped and turned to me. “What? What do you mean you don’t know? There has to be something.” He looked me up and down, as if searching for something. “You have no hints on your body as to how you died. How did that happen? Surely it must have something to do with why you’re down here.”

“Suicide,” I replied quietly. I really didn’t want to talk about it, I was desperately wishing he’d just drop the topic. I couldn’t lie or stay silent, he owned my soul. If he wanted information he was going to get it either way, regardless of how it made me feel.

“I… what?” His expression softened, but he still seemed confused. He thought it over in his head. He had lived during the Great Depression, the first time in American history that suicide became an almost common thing- due to everyone being in debt and homeless, many felt hopeless, as if there was no way out. He hadn’t experienced that so he couldn’t relate- and he had no idea of that even applied to me at all. Times had changed, so it could very well be another reason. He opened his mouth to ask, but stopped short. He saw my expression and shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to ask. It couldnt be that important anyway. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s okay,” I said, looking at the ground. I was fidgeting a little, nervous. My stomach growled.

Alastors ears perked up at the sound. “You seem hungry, my dear,” he said, jumping on the chance to change the sensitive subject. “How about I show you to the kitchen? It’s been a moment since I’ve last used it, but I’m told I’m quite a good cook.”

“I think I’d like that,” I said, with a small smile. I followed him in and he got to work.

“Now, you can watch but don’t touch anything. I have this place organized in a very particular way and I’d rather it not be messed up- it’d be rude of me to make a guest cook, anyway,” he said, matter of fact.

I smiled and nodded, then sat down and watched him work. He pulled out a cookbook and started making jambalaya- apparently it was a family recipe. He shifted the topic to himself, and told me about his mother and what New Orleans was like when he was alive. I listened, content. I liked listening to him talk. Hell wasn’t a good place by any means, but with him I was comfortable. I could almost forget I was in hell at all.

[ilguna]

☼ cruel summer pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick tricked you into playing the damsel role, something the Capitol will be referencing for the rest of your life. still, you're not sure if you can forgive him for being so cruel to you in the first place.

warnings; swearing, ehh gore, someone loses an eyeball, weapon use, death.

wc; 2.2k

part one

--

If you make it out of this arena alive, you might consider taking back all the nasty things you called Finnick that night on the balcony. In the heat of the moment, you confessed the feelings that you’ve had for him for a while, and in return, he told you that this had been his plan all along—to push you to your breaking point.

Every ounce of composure you had left was gone at that moment. All the emotions that you’d bottled for the last year shattered. You were upset, because this vulnerable moment had yet again, been turned into a joke for Finnick’s amusement. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

When you finally stopped screaming at him, which was right around the time the escort and Mags had come to check to make sure that everything was okay, he tried to explain his reasoning. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say, so you left to go to your room, which brought the conversation inside.

“You need to listen to me, (Y/n).” Finnick had told you, grabbing your arm to slow you down. “I know you’re mad—”

“Mad?” You repeated, your ladylike appearance was fading, not being able to hold it for the escort. Who was standing in the living room beside the stylists and Mags, watching the argument unfold. “Mad doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, Finnick! This is one big joke to you! I’m going to die, and it’s going to be your fault!”

You made a beeline for your room, trying to lock the door behind you, but they won’t shut if there’s something in the way. It was Finnick, and he had himself firmly planted there, refusing to move.

“You know I would never get you killed.” He tried to tell you.

You scoffed, “Do I, Finnick? I wouldn’t have put it past you.”

“You can’t place all the blame on me, you’re supposed to be the smart one. I was waiting for you to figure out I was messing with you the entire time but you trusted my judgement. I hope you won’t be this naive in the Games.”

“Get out of my room.” 

“I wanted you to look like a ditz, to give you a better chance at winning.”

“You’ve got a really backwards way of thinking.”

“It’s worked for me in the past, so I figured that it’d help you, too.” His patience was unwavering. “I wanted the Capitol and the tributes to overlook you, and they are. It’s a blessing. You’re going to be invisible in the arena—it worked out for me, so it’ll work for you.”

You stared at him, still angry, gripping the white trim of the doorway. “And you didn’t think to let me in on this?”

“You would’ve slipped. It’s hard to genuinely act clueless.” He shakes his head. “I had to do it, (Y/n), or else the Capitol would’ve had their eye on you the whole time. This was the only way.”

“I have no skills.” You seethed through your teeth.

“That’s not true. You know how to use a spear and hunt for food. You just need to put that together, and you’ll be able to keep yourself alive. You don’t even have to kill unless you absolutely have to.” He raised his eyebrows. “Like I said, you’re smart, (Y/n). You’ve got this.”

“Is this why you stopped being friends with me? Back home?” 

Finnick shook his head. “I stopped being around you after my Games because I felt like we couldn’t connect anymore. I was somewhere else and you didn’t understand.”

“So you told all my secrets? You let them start rumors about me?”

He looked at the ground, quiet. “I never should have told them those things.”

“It’s too late to feel sorry for yourself.” You told him. “Or fix any of this. You better hope that you’re right about this strategy, or my blood will be on your hands.”

Finnick nodded, backing out of the door, satisfied that he’d gotten the chance to properly speak to you. “Goodnight.”

You punched the button on the wall. 

If Finnick’s plan doesn’t work out, it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead anyway. Still, you’ll spend every last breath cursing his name and actions, for getting you in this position.

As much as you hate to say it, you have to admit that his plan has worked without a single hiccup. He was right, down to the very last word. You don’t think that you crossed any of the other tributes’ minds, much less the very much, now-dead Careers.

It was easy, too easy to survive this far. There were several times you were sure that you’d get caught sneaking in and out of the Cornucopia for supplies. Or when you’d accidentally pass by an active camp, where you were merely just a few feet away from the deadliest tributes in the arena.

You never got caught though, you flew under the radar, and it’s brought you here.

The male tribute from District Eight stands a few feet away from you, knife in his hand. You can’t seem to remember his name, but you know that he’s older than you, on the cusp of being free of the Hunger Games forever. You won’t be able to place your finger on his age exactly, but if you had to guess, it’d be eighteen.

He’s panting heavily, a result of chasing you for two miles through palm trees and sand. You would’ve brought him through the river, too, if the Gamemakers hadn’t dried it up yesterday. Now all it acts as is a barren trench. He’d tried to corner you into going inside, but you knew better. If you’d fallen in, you would’ve died down there.

You didn’t survive this entire time just to be killed from doing something stupid.

“Come here, little girl.” He breathes, voice deep. He takes the first step toward you, your legs twitch, wanting to run. You don’t move. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

You tilt your head at him. 

In the past two and a half weeks you’ve been in here, you don’t think you’ve said a single word. A point you’ve been trying to make since you made a fool of yourself on stage with Caesar Flickerman. Which has been a little difficult to keep up, because you have a habit of working out your problems aloud. 

Your lips are sealed, as far as you’re concerned. And they’ll stay that way, until you’re announced as the victor. 

He’s making his way at you at a steady pace. The closer he gets, the more you’re able to see the deranged look in his eye. It makes you worry, but your focus lies with the knife that he’s white-knuckling. Your idea of getting it out of his hand somehow is becoming a bad one. 

You really have no choice. The Cornucopia is miles away. The only weapon you had is gone, thrown into the trench. What you have now is your backpack, which has close to nothing inside of it. Just the sleeping bag you stole, a half-empty bottle of water, and a coiled wire.

“Surprised you lasted this long.” He mutters, “What did you score, again? A three?”

Four. Which might have been done out of irony, because that’s where you’re from. Or pity, because the Gamemakers saw that you were making an effort to learn. With Finnick’s initial instructions to fail everything you touched, you had a hard time figuring out the right way to do things.

You weren’t allowed to succeed.

“What’s the matter?” He teases.

He’s gotten close enough to lunge at you, swiping with the knife. He cuts you across your upper left arm, leaving a stinging trail behind. In turn, you swing your fist at his jaw, an ache forms in your knuckles, pain blossoming under the skin.

You’ve never had to punch anyone before.

In the brief time you have, you try to seize the knife from his hand, but he’s already thought of that, lifting it up, out of your reach. As he prepares to stab downward, you wiggle out of the backpack, bringing it in front of you to act as a shield.

Sure enough, it pierces through the cloth, he draws it out. You lower the bag, backing up, shaking your head at him. You’re not going to be able to fight, and it’s not because you don’t want to, it’s because you’re not capable. You can punch and kick him all you want, but he’s going to bounce back.

You need a weapon, so you rip the backpack open, pulling out the bottle of water that's beginning to leak from being stabbed. You throw it at him, watching as he dodges it, breathing out a laugh. It wasn’t your goal to hit him, just slow him down another step.

Your hand dives back in, rooting around for the wire, which lays at the very bottom, practically untouched since you discovered it. Right as you go to pull it out, he swings at you again. You’re barely able to lift the bag in time, listening to it tear from the sharp blade.

Without thinking it through entirely, you retaliate, aiming for his legs. The wire slices into skin, he jumps away from you. One look at the damage you’ve caused, and you forget about defending yourself with the backpack. You have a ranged weapon. 

For once, you take a step forward, pursuing him. Each time he slashes, you dodge and attack. He doesn’t miss every time, sometimes catching your shirt or your skin. Either way, the advantage changes.

You hurl the backpack at him, still hanging onto a strap, watching as his focus turns to catching it before it knocks into him. With the other hand, you bring down the wire, coming into contact with his face. He lets out a hiss, right as you whip it forward again.

His sudden scream startles you, making you jump. You watch as he drops the knife in his hand, forgetting about it. His hands are trembling when he reaches to touch his face, his left eye, where blood is gushing out like a waterfall.

You don’t stare for long, jerking forward, falling into the grass to grab the knife before he realizes his mistake. His eye is squeezed shut, letting out pained sobs. You get back to your feet, arm drawing back, before you hammer the knife into his chest, right over where his heart is. 

His eye and mouth pop open at the same time, hands falling from his face to his chest, where he’s just able to secure his fingers around the knife. Then, his eyes roll back, taking his body with him.

A cannon blasts.

You shuffle forward a step, looking down at him, and then up at the sky. 

That’s it, right? That’s all you had to do? There’s no one left in the arena?

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-sixth Hunger Games, District Four’s very own (Y/n) (L/n)!” Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms over the clearing, answering your questions.

You laugh, backing away from the gruesome scene you caused. “How’s that for a score of four?”

—

The familiar voices down the hallway grow louder with each step you take. They placed you in the room as far away as possible, to make you work to see your people again. In any other instance, you’re sure you’d be on some degree of irritation, but you’re so relieved to be here, and alive that it doesn’t seem right to be mad.

You survived the Hunger Games, there’s nothing in Panem that can touch you now. 

Your eyes are searching for them before you’ve even rounded the corner. Your stylist, your escort and Finnick are standing together, talking quietly. 

“Finnick.” His name leaves your mouth in a gasp, causing him to turn. Your feet move without permission, body gravitating to him. Finnick gives you a look—the look he used to give you back home when he thought you were being dramatic.

He throws his arms open at the last second, your body coming into hard contact with his, making him stumble back. He’s got you securely, though. Your arms lock around his back, squeezing him tightly. You can feel his cheek press against your ear.

“Welcome back.” He says.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment, because you’ve missed being his friend. If there’s one good thing that will come of this, it’ll be getting him back. But it won’t happen before he shows you that he’s sorry.

When you pull away from the hug, his eyes flicker to yours, watching you. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But it’s a start, isn’t it?”

You suck in your lips for a moment, nodding. “We’ll figure it out when we get home. For now, I just want to get out of here.” You tell him, before turning to the escort and the stylist, who are both smiling at you. You take in a breath, trying to reciprocate, “So, what’s next?”

[yandere-wishes]

Okay so not an ask more of a Headcanon based on observation and the character he is based on, but I see Honest Fellow as someone who would both idolize/emulate and resent the rich. By his design his clothes, while they pay homage to Honest John with the patchwork pantleg and the misding pinky tip on his one glove seem very well-kempt, on top of that his hat and cane are practically emaculate that cane alone couldn't have been cheap though I wouldn't put it passed the sly fox man to have either swindled someone out of it or stole it from them outright. Point is I'm getting wants to be a rich man but hates the rich people vibes.

All of that is set-up for my headcanon that if he ever had a S/O you can bet he would get them jewelry and expensive clothes. Basically just adorn them in finery he had acquired through whatever means (cough, likely stolen or purchased with dirty money, cough) and proudly have them stand by his side. The thought to use them as a pretty little lure to catch even bigger fish might cross his mind, but I doubt he'd ever use them like that. Personally, I feel like he'd be to possessive to do that even if his darling wanted to help like that, after all what if he let's them go off alone and someone tries to take advantage of his poor darling? He doesn't think they're weak or foolish per say but who could protect them better than him? I think he'd have a difficult time even leaving them alone with Gidelle (only 90 percent sure I got that right), of course he trusts Gidelle, well as much as he can truly trust anyone anyway, but he's the brains of the outfit and unless he's personally by his darlings side he won't ever be truly assured something won't go wrong.

Let's say that darling isn't quite so understanding or compliant, his possessive side would certainly get worse. He can't leave them alone for one second qhat if they try and sneak off. Perhaps to save his pride he'd be a bit delusional, they're just a sweet little naive skittish thing that doesn't know any better, possibly they've never known a love as deep and unshakable as his, it's only natural there would be a learning curve for them and who better than he to teach them? I highly doubt he'd ever use physical punishments on his darling, probably doesnt like punishing them as he thinks they are just still learning, but that doesn't mean he won't find other ways to punish them if necessary. I do think if they actively tried to run he wouldn't waste a minute getting something along the lines of a necklace with a chain, something fashionable but functional as a reminder while they're learning, if that reminder isn't enough though he might go for a bejeweled pet collar and leash. If all else fails isolation in a secure location with him as their only source of human, or well beastman, contact would certainly allow them to see how much they needed each other. Whatever he has to do to make them understand it'll all be worth it later once they're settled and he can spoil them like they deserve.

TLDR: Honest Fellow would love to lavish his S/O in (possibly ill-gotten) finery and would actively and proudly show them off on his arm. Everyone can look and admire, but only he is allowed to touch.

This has got to be the most effort anyone has ever put into something they sent in my ask box!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

Okay so right off the bat let me say that YES!! This is canon I don't care what anyone says.

I can see him as "wanting what they have" but "not wanting to be them". Essentially he wants the ability to give his darling the best of everything. Yet still ultimately preserving his own "personality". Like you said Fellow hates the rich. They're insufferable, self-absorbed and loathsome, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't crave the glitz and glammer.

Now I can kinda see Fellow only really interacting with his darling at first to use her as bait. Winning her over with expensive gifts and pretty cloths (all from dirty money ofc) and sure darling does start to fall for his tricks. But here's the thing, the moment his darling begins to show the tinest interest in him Fellow FALLS HARDER!! All of a sudden he doesn't want ANYONE near his darling! Just him only him. Sooner or later his darling will start to feel suffocated, she'll be desperate to get away from him. Forsaking the pretty presents and charming "boyfriend" for just a moment of freedom. But Fellow's a sly fox, always one step ahead. He knows how to ensnare his darling before she's even run away.

Overall Fellow will lavish you, treat you like a queen, getting you anything you desire (through underhanded means) but you'll never be allowed to leave him. Forever trapped by his side on the island of pleasure…

Quick question is Fellow meant to be the same age as the third years or is he older??

[justmeinatree]

04 - How Good We Have It Though

Summary : part 4 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, double penetration, creampie, choking, pussy slapping, subspace

Word Count : 4.5k

GIFs : unknown - msg for credit

it was a fluke really. you don’t remember the last time you had the confidence to blurt out that you clearly wanted sex. with your best friend, no less. but also to just have the guts to lay it all out on the table. 

it must have been the weed. at least, that’s what you’ll blame it on later if they ask. either way, you don’t think they’ll be too hung up on it. especially since they currently both have their cocks nestled tightly into your cunt.

“so, do we have to wait for some kind of event ?” you blurted out earlier that night, curled up with niall on the couch, louis sitting sideways on the armchair, legs thrown over the side. 

you’d started noticing a few weeks ago that your joint smoking sessions had gotten much more frequent. almost as if the three of you were just looking for an excuse to be in the same room, probably in a pointless attempt to see if anything would happen. truthfully, you were all too scared to make the first move. 

but you were absolutely over it, and honestly the entire thing was just getting stupid. so you used the courage, or more like lack of care to anyone’s reaction, thanks to the second joint you were smoking, to speak up.

“what are you talking about ?” niall asks, eyebrows furrowing slightly, leaning his head against yours, still in a cuddle.

“to fuck,” you explain pointedly, “the three of us. do we really need some kind of event ?” 

niall and louis exchange glances, something you can tell is happening, even from the crook of niall’s neck. so you pull away from him, sitting yourself comfortably to face them both. 

“can’t we ?” you ask softly, looking over them. “we all love it, right ? we’ve all said so time and time again.”

“yeah,” louis’ quick to jump in, nodding, “s’the best really,” he agrees, looking over at niall’s expression, not wanting to cross any sort of line with him.

“you gotta know i love it,” niall laughs, nodding towards louis, “only one that can make me cum when m’drunk apparently.”

“bad luck for the irish man, innit ?” louis chuckles, shaking his head and taking a big breathy sigh, adding more seriously, “feel like there’s gotta be some rules now.” because he’s not exactly that naive. as much as he can tell himself that there’s nothing better. that you two love him just the same. always have. that you’re all in this for a good time. at the end of the day, louis is the outsider in this agreement. he’s not the one that gets to call either you nor niall, his. 

niall looks over at you, having a silent conversation with your eyes, niall speaking up, “if we’re including louis, s’only when we’re all here. one on one feels like crossing a line.”

you nod, reaching for niall’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and pecking his lips, louis adding, “that’s fair, don’t wanna be fucking up anyone’s relationship.” and it’s true. he’d absolutely hate himself if he was the cause for any trust issues between you and niall. or worse, the cause of a failed relationship/friendship.

“can i-“ you cut yourself off, sighing, “look, what happens between us, stays between us right ?” you ask. “i mean like, we can totally trust each other.”

“course petal,” niall coos, giving your thigh a squeeze, looking over your face, trying to figure out where you’re going with this. because not once, in the decade you’d been dating, have you ever mentioned any lack of trust.

“you know you can trust me, lovely,” louis hums, “where’s this coming from ?”

“no,” you furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head, because they got it all wrong, “m’not talking about me. look, you both have talked with me. and truth is, you both feel the exact same way about what we do and how it makes you feel.”

and with that, the energy in the room shifts. like all the air around you has just gotten incredibly heavy. like a balloon being pushed to its limits, waiting for the pressure to make it all pop.

a moment later, louis lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head playfully, “christ, really gonna back us into that corner ?”

“it had to be said,” you shrug, looking between them innocently. you didn’t want to ruffle feathers, or make anyone uncomfortable. not that there was really any reason to be. but, that truthfully wasn’t your intention. if this was going to work, you all had to be honest with each other. open about feelings and such. “you both need to understand that it’s okay. of course it feels good. it’s supposed to feel good. and i know it may be a bit weird to cross this line. but, it’s okay. you really don’t have to hide it from each other.”

then louis got up from his chair, and waltzed over to plant the hardest, hottest kiss you’d ever been privy to witness, smack on niall’s lips. a moment later, as niall gives in, his hands reached out to grip into louis’ shirt, tugging him closer. 

it was followed by a mess of clothes being strewn about the house, limbs tangled together and stumbling up the stairs, foregoing the convenience of the couch for the comfort and spacing of niall’s bed.

the air around you was thick with lust, want, need. and it took over the blurriness of it all, as you all settled into each other, hands roaming bodies, tongues licking heated skin, teeth nipping, mouths sucking, it was all a whirlwind in your mind, too much to focus on properly.

but now, with your hips straddling louis’, his prick nestled deep inside you, you could feel niall’s length bobbing against your bum from behind you. “m’not prepped,” you murmur, your head tipping back against niall’s shoulder, your body stretched, exposed to louis’ wandering eyes.

niall’s hands fall on your breasts, softly kneading your skin, avoiding your nipples entirely as a form of teasing, “m’not going there,” he hums against your ear, loud enough for louis to hear as well. “wanna feel both of you tonight,” he adds, eyes looking over your body to catch louis’, as the tip of his member slides lower, resting against your heat and the base of louis’ cock. “got room for one more in there ?”

“always for you,” you keen, muscles relaxing comfortably, as niall’s fingertips leave your breasts, gliding down your tummy, stopping to swirl around your bellybutton, slowly dipping down over your mound, towards your clit.

“always so wet,” niall mewls, his mouth instantly attaching to your neck, his body taking over.

“she’s fuckin soaked, mate. you’ll slide right in,” louis breathes, making a quick groan rumble from niall’s chest, tickling the skin on your neck, as his fingers pick up the pace, rubbing over your sensitive button softly but with purpose, distracting you from the slight pained stretch of his cock joining louis’.

you hiss, breath cut off from your lungs, as your pussy gives way, the tip of niall’s cock breaching your centre. and just as louis said, his dick glides right in, eliciting a loud moan from you, louis’ eyes rolling back, head falling to your chest. 

his tongue darts out, licking your nipple into his mouth, almost purring around it. instinctively, his hands leave your hips, one of them smoothing up your side, gripping your shoulder from behind, the other wrapping its way around niall’s hips, pulling you all flush together, smothering you in a louis/niall sandwich.

“can feel your cock so fuckin well,” niall groans, rolling his hips experimentally for the first time since being smooshed inside you. “fuck,” he murmurs to himself, rutting into you with more purpose, “fuck, your prick feels so fuckin good in there, louis.”

“christ, you’ve got to learn to shut up,” louis growls, his head lifting from your chest, lips smothering niall’s in a desperately heated kiss. 

with your head leaned back against niall’s shoulder, you peer up at them, hearing their soft mewls and deep grunts, goosebumps erupting all over your body at the most gorgeous view before you. with louis’ neck stretched, your mouth reaches forward to trail soft kisses against his stubbly skin, feeling the bob of his throat as he swallows down niall’s moan. 

as niall’s brain catches up to louis’ words, his eyebrows furrow momentarily, biting into louis’ lip to slow the kiss, “fuck are you on about ?” niall hums into his mouth.

“when you talk,” louis admits, lips ghosting over niall’s as he speaks, “get me so fuckin worked up,” he explains, hand reaching up to grip into the nape of his mate’s neck, fingers tangling with niall’s soft hair, pressing their mouths together again. 

you feel your skin getting increasingly prickly, listening to them talk, the way they speak to each other, the way their bodies react without much realization on either of their parts. how niall’s cock gave a particularly hard thrust at louis’ revelation. 

“tell him,” you murmur breathily, head tipping back against niall’s neck again. “tell him what gets you worked up.”

“feeling you,” niall sighs without much thought, any concerns washed away the moment your little conversation happened earlier. “knowing it’s you. i don’t know. just fuck, feeling you.”

“s’that so ?” louis hums around a smirk, ecstatic to find out he’s not the only one with a weakness, something he’s definitely going to use to his advantage now. right now, apparently, as his hips roll in a way that lines up his prick with your sweet spot, while also gliding along niall’s entire length. 

you breathe around a moan, your body falling forward towards louis’ once again, elbows resting on his shoulders for support, hands tangling into his soft hair, mouth colliding with his. 

at the same time, niall’s hands instinctually reach forward, nails leaving indents into louis’ skin, gripped on his hips, “fuckin christ lou, gonna make me cum like that.”

louis smirks against your lips, rolling his hips in the same way, feeling the tremble work its way through your body, niall’s grip tightening as groans rumble from his chest, eyes rolling back, breathy moans echoing through the bedroom.

“looks like m’getting both of you, hmm ?” louis mumbles, continuing his rhythm, enthralled by both of your reactions, egging him on to just keep going.

you bite into louis’ lip, whimpering louder, the fullness of their cocks, the constant bumping into your sweet spot, your skin’s prickling fiery heat, fuck you were going to cum too if he kept this up.

before you quite had the chance,  thanks to a particularly slow, purposeful thrust, rolling louis’ cock against niall’s, tip catching on the head of his member, niall’s muscles seemingly crumbling, gasping, “christ, gonna make me cum louis. fuck.” 

louis hadn’t really planned on doing it again, but the way niall just spoke, the desperation, the pleasure, the rawness seeping from his voice, he couldn’t help it. it just happened. and niall was cumming.

“fuck, yes. like that louis, just fucking like that-“ niall cuts himself off, gasping for air, as he literally feels the spasming of louis’ cock, bursts of hot cum joining his, filling you up more than you ever knew possible. and it was a fucking mess. 

you were so full, so fucking full, dripping down onto louis’ thighs, the moment you’d just been privy to, playing like a tape in your mind, with the mix of their pants, their grunts in your ears, and their touches and their small ruts and the final little blurbs of cum, and christ it was so fucking good.

your cunt clamps down on their members, a body wretching shiver running through you, whiny moan bubbling from your lips, your head falling back to niall’s shoulder, body stretched, limp, exposed.

it was so fucking much. your head was already fuzzy, your body was already overheated, your cunt was already spasming so hard. and now everything was tenfold. you were panting to catch your breath, louis’ hands tracing soothing patterns on your thighs, niall’s fingers gliding all over your body, your arms, your chest, your breasts, your stomach. he knew. he always knew. christ you loved him. 

it was far from the first time that you were slipping into subspace, something that niall was now expert in. something that made you infinitely more comfortable doing so. knowing wholeheartedly that you were taken care of. that you were safe. 

and on the other hand, knowing exactly what makes you tick. knowing exactly how to keep you floaty, how to make you feel incredible, how to push you to your limit without crossing any sort of line.

you were so relaxed, so blissful, their fingers gliding deliciously, softly, random patterns, working you down until your breathing had returned to normal. as normal as it could be with two cocks still stuffed deep inside you. although not as hard as they once were.

“you ever going to admit that watching us together gets to you ?” louis hums quietly, not wanting to startle you, but needing an answer anyway. especially considering the secrets you forced out earlier. it’s a pattern he’d noticed, and he was ready for you to admit it.

you hum, a smile gracing your lips, nodding as you bite your lip, “mhmm, s’so fucking good. i’m so lucky. so fucking lucky.”

louis’ hands leave your hips, roaming up your sides, swirling around your breasts, watching the shiver follow along with his touches, fingers finally closing around your nipples, pulling on them, forcing you to lift your body from its perch against niall, bringing you forward to land right on louis’ lips. 

one of his hands traces up to your neck, his palm resting against your jaw, fingertips tangled into a grip at your scalp, holding you tightly as he kisses you, hard. his other hand, still on your breast, thumb lightly flicking your nipple, before gripping it again. “m’the lucky one. privy to this. to you two. fuck,” he whispers, shaking his head, nose bumping against yours, pressing his lips to yours again, feeling niall’s breath against his cheek. 

louis turns his head, niall’s mouth waiting for his, a quick, breathless kiss, niall’s teeth sinking into the plushness of louis’ lower lip, tugging with purpose, to watch it snap back into place.

“help me make her squirt,” niall hums, smirking at louis, “think she deserves it.”

niall leans your body back against his, using your pliancy to his advantage tonight, exposing you once again, giving a proper squeeze to your tits, hands gripping and massaging their way down your sides and your stomach, to your hips, and then disappearing completely. 

and then landing a solid slap to your clit.

you whimper out loudly, your pussy clenching hard on their pricks, gaining a breathy moan from louis, “fucking christ, i should have known,” he fixes his gaze to your cunt, watching in awe, “this make you squirt, love ?”

without giving you an opportunity to answer, in words that is, niall lands another spank, directly on your clit. and another. and another. and one more, only this time, significantly harder than the rest. and it was followed by a loud gasping mewl, and a gush of warm liquid cascading onto louis’ lower half. 

you were slipping further with every single slap that landed on your sensitive button. the painful sting, quickly followed by a rush of pleasure. one that spread like an electric zap through your entire being.

louis groans, watching you, watching the way niall’s taking care of you, watching the drip drip dripping of your cunt, feeling the clench, feeling the tip of niall’s fingertips against the base of his cock with every spank. fuck. he’s getting hard again.

“my turn to get both of you,” niall chuckles breathily, feeling louis’ prick harden again.

both of their members were stiffening, chubbing up and stretching your inner walls all over again. “getting yourself too,” louis mumbles, moaning softly around every clench of your pussy.

niall lands a particularly hard slap, the echo of skin hitting wet skin reverberating through the bedroom, another strong spurt of arousal leaving your cunt, body trembling against niall’s.

“fuckin hell,” louis groans loudly, watching your face, watching your cunt, watching your body, christ he didn’t know where to keep his eyes, “might actually cum again, fuck.”

“do it,” you whine, “please, please, fuck, please, do it. wanna be so full, so fucking full of both of you.” you were slightly incoherent, babbling over and over again, so lost in them. lost in how fucking perfect they managed to make you feel. both of them. together.

“can you ?” louis asks niall breathily, sitting himself back up straighter, his cock painfully hard, used, weepy, and yet screaming for another orgasm.

“can’t imagine another outcome right now,” niall rasps chestily, “s’so fuckin tight, louis.” because it was, somehow, tighter than before. did they grow thicker ? were you spasming harder ? did they cum that much ?

and fuck, they were really contemplating filling you up more. cumming in you a second time. mixing more into you, adding on to what was already smothered inside you. it was fucking filthy.

niall wanted it. fuck it, he was greedy. and you were in such a giving mood whenever you were in this state. besides, his prick was screaming for relief and he needed to do something more to reach it. so he grasps louis’ wrist and brings it to your exposed neck, louis’ fingers wrapping expertly around your throat. 

your muscles instantly go limp, breathing coming in small pants, your brain floated so high up above you, skin prickling with need and want and heat, every primal bone in your body taking over.

you could feel the roughness of the callouses on niall’s fingertips, stroking gently over and over and over and over your clit, in persuasive circles. you could feel the tightness in the grip of louis’ hand, wrapped deliciously around your throat, stopping the airflow from reaching your brain, somehow sending you floating even higher than you already were.

your thighs began to tremble, finding it increasingly harder to hold yourself up, gasping breaths coming out in small pants between the squeezes around your neck. and with niall’s cock starting to rut into you, your body gave out, falling limp against louis, the force sending him down as well.

his grip falls from your throat in the process, louis’ lips immediately suctioning to yours, starting to lose himself with the new constant slow, deep thrusts of niall’s length, rutting up against his own.

but niall needed to cum again, his prick was spent, crying out for this tight fit to reach its end. although he loved this, loved being stuffed side by side with louis into your most beautiful, willing, sopping hole, it’s all starting to teeter on painful.

he reaches forward, his hand looping around your throat, picking you back up by your neck, leaning you against his body for support.

a loud whimpery moan gets caught in your throat, eyes rolling back as you get pulled and positioned however they want, the new angle bumping niall’s cock so deliciously inside you.

“cum for us,” niall rasps in your ear, his other hand landing a final, swift smack to your clit.

your cunt instantly clamps down on their cocks, a mess of arousal and orgasms, gushing from your destroyed pussy, dripping down to the already soaked mattress beneath louis’ hips.

you could barely hear them groan and moan as they came, your ears ringing so loudly. but you could feel everything. absolutely everything. right down to the microscopic indents that are your fingerprints. everything just felt. the overbearing fullness inside you with the numerous loads of cum. the stretch to accommodate both their cocks. the soft gliding of fingertips on your throat, on your thighs and hips. the gentle puffs of air against your cheek and shoulder.

the calling of niall’s voice reached you first, with comforting pecks of his lips against the side of your neck, right close to your ear, “gotta slip out, petal. s’too much,” he murmurs breathily, almost painfully so, as his prick is slowly slipped out from you. and it made you crumble.

the sudden loss of fullness, the sudden gush of everyone’s highs running down your thighs, causing a whiny hiss to leave your lips, as your muscles collapse, making you fall forward towards louis again.

you barely register louis’ question, “are you alright, love” falling on deaf ears, your body simply taking over. arms wrapped around his neck, forehead resting against his, slotting your lips together in a slow, heated kiss.

it felt different. louis couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was definitely different. it wasn’t sexually charged, it wasn’t excitement, it wasn’t teasing. it was so soft. so fucking soft. and gentle, and smooth, and slow, and loving. it was passionate. and it felt wrong ?

louis’ lips leave yours momentarily, his forehead resting against yours, eyes flicking over to the side, catching niall’s, who’s now sitting next to the both of you, fingertips grazing soothingly along your back.

niall catches his gaze, offering him a small smile, “y’alright ?”

“this feels-“ louis cuts himself off, unsure of how to put it to his best friend. your boyfriend. fuck.

“s’okay,” niall nods, louis quickly cutting him off, “but ni-“ and louis gets cut off by a small chuckle coming from his mate.

“s’alright lou, she needs you right now,” niall murmurs, noticing louis’ eyes close as your lips make their way back to his. “she trusts you, mate,” he continues, “and she loves you tons. and i know you trust and love her too. and you know i do too. m’right here, s’okay.”

and so, with permission from his best mate, louis lets himself fall into it. lets himself take advantage of this time with you. lets himself feel some of the emotions he’s tucked very far away, under lock and key. lets his fingers map out every inch of your skin. lets his lips eagerly suck up the tenderness of the moment. lets his tongue smooth over your tiny squeaks. 

without taking much notice, your hips started to grind slow circles, still seated comfortably on louis’ cock.

“can’t possibly want more,” niall murmurs next to you, shamelessly enjoying the view, noticing the movement in your hips.

“s’nice,” you answer, lips ghosting louis’ own, as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, holding you into position, halting your movements.

“i can’t lovely,” he whispers, his forehead resting against your own, eyes peering into yours as he speaks, “m’sorry, s’too much.”

he notices the slight disappointment etch itself into your features. a look on your face, he never wants to see again. especially knowing he’s the cause. so he kisses over the edges of your lips, turning them back up. kisses over the small patch of skin between your eyebrows, lessening the furrows. kisses over the corner of your eyes, relaxing the creases, murmuring as he goes, “beautiful girl, so fucking good for us, you perfect girl.”

“c’mon, pet,” niall whispers, his hands on your hips, helping you lift yourself from your seat on louis’ prick, laying you down comfortably next to him.

louis sits himself up more, looking over your spent body, trying to control the bursting in his heart at the moment he just experienced with you. watching the dips in your skin, all of them etched to his memory from his touchy escapade just minutes ago. 

niall’s eyes are zeroed in on your cunt, your legs spread wide, pussy heated, and throbbing, welcoming the cool air in the room, too far gone to be embarrassed.

his mouth waters at the sight, wanting nothing more than to soothe you in a way you both revel in. “can i ?” he mumbles, knowing that you understand what he’s implying. it sure wasn’t the first time.

“mhmm,” you hum, nodding, your body relaxing at the mere thought.

niall notices the questioning glance louis is shooting him, giving him a smirky nod towards your cunt, “s’for comfort. nothing more.” and that’s the only explanation he gives before dipping down, tongue taking a slow, tentative lick through your folds.

a tremor works its way through you, your cunt so overly used. and yet, you couldn’t imagine anything feeling better. it was so soft, so smooth, so sweet, so caring. a stark contrast to the painful sting of pussy spanks, and being stretched and filled more than your body knew possible.

on instinct, your legs spread open wider, hips lifting only slightly in an effort to chase niall’s tongue. “s’my girl,” he murmurs with a smile, taking another soothing lick.

louis watches attentively, swallowing down the tiniest ping of jealousy at the words “my girl,” something else he will tuck away under lock and key and forget about entirely. he does wish to stay sane, and nothing about this random outburst of envious desire screams sanity. he’s never felt that with you or with niall, and he refuses it. he needs to. 

“never been one to turn down a taste,” niall hums, pulling louis from his intrusive thoughts. “everything alright tommo ?”

“yeah, yeah, m’fine,” louis smiles, shaking his head, quickly dipping down for a lick, scooping up the most delicious blend of cum he’s ever tasted. he’s starting to think it’s a sign. if the three of you taste so good, it must- no. fuck. fuck, no. it must nothing. 

“fuck, i love you,” niall murmurs, leaning over you to press his lips to yours, allowing you a bit of a taste as well. “you’re so fucking good for us.”

“perfect,” louis pipes up, eyes locking with yours for a moment, “she’s fucking perfect.”

Part 5

……

Series Masterlist

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tags : @cc-horan28 @gorlsinmultifandoms

[billskeis]

Hi, would it be fine, if I ask you for bill angst?

I don't want the reader to forgive so easily too 😫😩

Thanks, pookieboo.

ᡣ𐭩 bill’s stupid priorities

“i want to break up.” bill said. he said it so easily, as though he’s been thinking about it for a while. you stand there in the middle of the living room, dropping your glass of water, glass shattering to the floor as you physically feel sick. suddenly all air is lost in your lungs as you force your body to swallow the boulder forming in your throat from becoming any larger.

mouth agape before you could speak. what’s gotten into him? everything was fine before, but.. now all of a sudden he wants to end things? you sit down on the couch beside him, he inches himself a distance from you, your heart stings at the action, oh he’s serious.

“can you tell me why?” you hold onto your knees to prevent shaking, your breath already doing enough of that.

“i..i just want to focus on the band—and don’t get me wrong—i know you said you don’t care about me putting the band before you.. but, i can’t. i don’t want to do this to you anymore.” he begins to sit up from the couch, a hand of yours instinctively grasping onto him.

“but i never once asked you for anything more! please, i’m content with what we have just—please don’t leave me,” tears welling up in your eyes as they begin to cloud your vision, “this, we’re stronger than this, bill, it’s been years. and you want to drop it all now?”

he shakes your hand off of him. stepping further and further away from your apartment as he gathers his things.

“‘m sorry y/n. it’s over.”

“how long?”

“h-huh?”

“how long have you been thinking about this? how long were you gonna wait and plan to tell me this while i naively loved you, craved you. and cherished every single moment we’ve had with one another before you meant to break up with me.”

you’re now stood up to his level, on the balls of your feet that began to ache with impatience. as your now ex-boyfriend stands there without a single word to say. wow, so he’s been thinking about it for a while then.

you sit down on the couch, elbows propped up onto your knees as you begin to sob into your hands after emitting a small “fine. do whatever you want,” and with the click of the door shutting, it all came raining down on you as your heart bore the loss and pain of love that you had with your person.

all you could think about were the happy memories of your time with bill. it started off as meeting in elementary school, protecting him from the ruthless bullies that bothered him and tom. escalating to a vow where the three of you are bound to stick and stay together forever.

it was clear that over the years you and bill’s bond were, in short words—closer— than you and tom. sometimes during your weekly hangouts alongside georg and gustav, you and bill would secretly escape and elope to god knows where. sharing mcdonalds together, watching movies with one another. hand holding whenever it felt right, which was, all the time.

you were there with bill when times were tough and tokio hotel got an immense amount of hate. the morales were low and bill felt as though he lost all hope, but you didn’t let him. did everything in your power, actually, to get him back on his feet and now tokio hotel are back stronger and better than ever! so.. did that all mean nothing to him?

when he all of a sudden just decided to spew at you that he wanted to break up? why did he get to make such a decision himself?

oh, how poor you wish you knew ..

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

during their performance everything was going super smooth! fans were chanting, guitars were going and the set was perfect. well, the three of the members thought the flow was going perfect. whilst singing it’s second verse, bill scans the crows to see a bunch of fangirls and boys screaming and crying for the young rockstars.

all but one face, the face he yearns to see is missing. leading him to stumble on a line where he completely banks out on his line.

he quickly picks up the pace, backing his track onto the song as he shares a glance with tom. tom, who’s jaw is clenched as he strings his guitar, mouths a ‘what the hell’ to his younger brother as he then focuses on the crowd in front of him, staging a facade to not start any unnecessary drama for the media to feed and bank money on.

“what the hell, bill!?” tom throws his empty coca cola can at bill, who successfully dodges as they now sit in the dressing room post-concert.

bill scoffs as he uses a small towel to wipe off the sweat and dripping mascara off his face, “you just completely fucked up our tempo. like you’ve been doing for the past couple of days, s’wrong with you??” georg plops himself down on the couch as he swings an arm around his band member. “betcha it has something to do with y/n.” he teases.

tom quirks an eyebrow, “the fuck did he do?” gustav slips in, “he broke up with her,” tom, left in complete and utter shock, not cause he was the last to know but the fact that his brother let the only person who loved his brother so much to the point they’d kill, he broke up with, “are you fucking insane!?!”

“take a shot every time tom said ‘fuck’ or ‘fucking.’” georg snorts.

“please georg, now is not the time. and yes, i did break up with them. i made it clear that i wanted to focus on the band and that.. they were a distraction.” this time, tom threw a decorative couch pillow at bill, who again, successfully evades the blow by catching it within a hold.

“you’re fucking stupid.”

“how am i stupid? how am i stupid for wanting to focus on the band? isn’t this what we would’ve wanted?? no distractions, whatsoever. you even decided to stop taking in groupies because it fucked with our tempo.”

“it fucked with MY tempo. nobody else even noticed. but you, bill, are our lead singer. and with your tempo fucked, so is everyone else’s. look at you man, you can’t even deliver your lines without messing up, it’s been like this for the past couple weeks! what will the media think?? what will our fans think?? you were never once like this when with y/n. they, in fact, helped our tempo.”

“i..i thought it’d help us..”

“well, it didn’t. and y’know what. i know you regret it. i saw you. i saw the way that your pathetic little gaze scanned the crowd in hopes to see them. well guess what, they weren’t there. you betrayed them. betrayed us, remember that vow? how could you do this? i thought you loved them.”

bill looks down as his hands, empty. as if they’re missing something. someone, someone who fits and moulds to them completely and perfectly. tom was right. he did love you. bill just thought, by breaking things off would help with his career, singing is his life, tokio hotel, the band, his fans, are all his life. but so were you.

the only thing that bill could imagine at that very moment was the touch of your hand atop of his head, comforting him to let him ‘know everything would be okay.’

all he wants, is a caress from his girlfriend.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you stare at yourself in the mirror, waiting for your friend to come out the washroom to reveal her own outfit to you. “wow. you look amazing babe!” she giggles as she twirls you, hand holding your arm above your body in your tight-skin dress. “thanks, but ‘m not sure if i’m ready to go now..”

“are you kidding?? take all the time you need. oh! but not too long i wanna be there early enough there’s still free alcohol.”

you bite your lip. you didn’t really want to go out. after the breakup all you did was stay inside, watching movies, binge, watch more movies, stay in bed. hell, you didn’t even shower for a few days! it took hours and hours of convincing for your best friend to finally persuade you into going to a house party.

she looks at you and softens her gaze, arms wrapping around your body as you simple stand there, “i know. i know you originally weren’t planning to go out. but you need to. you need to finally get back into the world and realize that a world without bill is still worth living. hey! maybe you’ll end up finding someone else while we’re out.”

you snicker at her and pat her back for her to let go, “you know i don’t want anything else but bill. but hey, you’re right. i deserve this, and i’m worth more than bill and i’s relationship!” you pump yourself up as your best friend cheers for you, “that’s the spirit! now let’s go get our drinks on!”

“w-wait y/n!! where are you going!? we didn’t even get our third shots yet!” your friend chases after you in the crowd as pushes away the people preventing her from getting to you so easily. you stop in your tracks and turn on your feel to face her, “he’s.. he’s here! sophia he’s here i—i gotta go.”

she tugs on your hand to hold you back from leaving any further, “so what? the night is still young and there’s so many people around. he won’t notice!”

in despite of all the commotion of the people dancing, making out, laughing and drinking, smoking and grinding, there you stood in the hallway with your best friend as the two of you bickered. bill’s eyes widened in shock as he saw you here of all places. but why did it matter to him? the two of you were broken up.

he stared in awe at how you looked. glowing. the way you shine in such a dimly lit environment almost had his knees buckling. if it weren’t for the publicity of it. bill would’ve already been on the floor, a full on prayer for you to take him back. he would’ve done it, if it weren’t for the multiple spilt drinks mixed with the dirt and germs tracked onto the floor of the somewhat fraternity house. one could say it was even worse than the club.

“and that’s when she—bill? where’ya goin??” tom asks with a blunt accompanying the corner of his mouth.

“to get my girlfriend back!” he looks back to his older brother who’s already shooing him off, a proud smile plastered onto his face at the sight of his determined younger brother. as bill made his way through the crowd of people, one girl attempted to grab onto his arm, caressing it, as he quickly shut her down her pick-up line, cutting her off with a ‘not interested’ as he now stands in front of you.

oh fuck. oh fuckfuckfuck he’s right in front of you. god, he looked amazing. and you bet if you inched a bit closer to him he’d be wearing that cologne you loved so much. oh who are you kidding he probably doesn’t wear that anymore since the two of you aren’t dating anymore. he is wearing it

“hi.. y/n. can we, talk? please?” he shoves his hands inside his pockets, standing there awkwardly.

sophia had to slap your arm for you to realize that you haven’t said anything for a minute. dissociating as you haven’t grasped the fact that your ex boyfriend was standing right in front of you, and he wanted to talk??

anger bubbled within your core. he wanted to talk?? after all this time, and after all these weeks, he wants to talk?? it took everything in your body to not tackle him. right then and there, and just completely claw at his body for how he’s left you. the man that promised you, a forever and together.

then, you saw it, in the flashing lights for a moment. eyebags, eyebags so bad you’d know he’d only get from the lack of sleep, they were different that others, y’know? the kind that only form when something truly keeps you up at night. if you stared a little harder, you noticed too that his eyes were puffy, and he seemed.. frail.

you let in a deep inhale, and patted the sides of your thigh where your arms rest to comfort you into not lashing out at him, “five minutes, you have, five. fucking minutes. bill.” as you grab his hand and lead him into the washroom.

locking the door, you push him onto the toilet and stand in front of him, feeling a little guilty for the wince he let out from how you’ve manhandled him, “speak. and use your words fucking wisely because i did not want to spend my night talking to the man who broke me, kaulitz.”

and it was the way you said his last name. the way that your voice held so much sorrow and angst from how much he broke you. in an attempts to not sound shaky, you croak while speaking to him. but how could you not? just seeing his stupid fucking face just makes you want to crumble down, as all the flashing memories of your life together came together in a timeline as you saw him.

“i—fuck y/n, i’m lost without you.. i don’t know what i can do to get you to believe that i can make us work together, it was stupid of me to break our vow.”

“yeah, it was.”

“but, but now, i want us to work. and i don’t want to give up. i did that once and—well, i’m here now. i’m here in front of you because it was the wrong choice. please, schatzi.. give us another chance.”

“no! no—don’t you fucking call me that because you don’t get the right.”

he frowned, and it hurt to see him sad. but he had to understand, that you were sad to. and he thought that maybe, maybe by him letting you let out all the anger that you’ve held against him for the past few weeks, will allow you to forgive him. for him to yours once more.

“i gave you my heart. my fucking soul. i gave you my everything and then you up and left.. how could you!? how could you do this to me.. it’s your fault.. it’s all your fault. and now, i don’t feel as if i could ever love anyone or myself as much as i loved you bill.”

“i..i still think your my person, y/n. and i’m hoping, that i can become yours again.”

he reaches out and arm to hold your body within his, he yearned for that caress that you’d always done for him. just to be held in your arms once again, like old times. but you slap away his hand, “get away from me,” you hissed. you unlock the door and look back at the pitiful figure that sat still on the toilet seat, music somehow blaring into the small space that only encompassed the two of you. you stare at him, completely lost and unknowing of what you want to do.

“your five minutes is up, goodbye bill.” slamming the door behind you as you left bill, who notices the tears that began to fall and stain the fabric of his jeans.

i think this was so shit

no ending of them tgt cuz im evil :p would write a p2 but im also so lazy and have so many reqs , bare w me

[chronoslovers]

suckening episode 5 spoilers

i find shilo such an interesting character so far, the way bizly roleplays him is so captivating and it's really clear that he's thinking about everything going on in his head. i absolutely LOVE the way he's portrayed when upset (alongside vtm's idea that vampires cry blood) after he finds out about his mothers death. going back into that isolation after wanting to go outside for his whole life? time and time again shilo is shown that LA and the rest of the world is cruel and not what he thought it was - but he still pushes forward! he's actually so so brave. the contrast between him sobbing in the closet of the motel to being the only one to follow the unseen ones instructions, even when he's taunted with a depiction of his just-dead mother? sickening. while arthur opens his eyes because he's worried for shilo (and emizel opens his eyes because hes, well, emizel) shilo stays dedicated and proper to their goal of gaining information. and then having to sacrifice a memory of his mother to get the other two back? at the start of the campaign i loved shilo but i thought that his selfishness (letting guards be killed so that he can explore and gain information) would be his primary character arc. but after episode 5 i'm convinced that he's wholly selfless; perhaps just a little naive? his arc may be coming to terms with his mother and bonding with emizel while finding out that life outside the castle Can be kind. really excited to see where he goes from here. just the mental image of him walking bravely through the unseen one's domain has really stuck with me and made me love him even more than before. because he's also super silly! he's so entertaining to listen to as he discovers things about the outside world, ESPECIALLY now emizel has come into play as his twin brother. they really bounce off of each other well and i love that they're able to bond. it will be interesting to see how their dynamic plays out from here, emizel clearly isn't as emotionally comforting or intelligent which i think is something that shilo kinda needs. i believe that arthur will come out of his brooding shell to provide that though. and then we have such a wonderful found family dynamic at play.

this wasn't the most Coherent, i'll need to relisten to the episode to make a better post on how he's gotten to this point and fully dive into his character, motivations and relationships with those around him. but i just love shilo so much man. he totally needs a break but i fear he may not get one for a while.

[strawbeerossi]

Heartless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: With an old foe breaking out of prison, there are complications when Y/N is left alone with them, exposing her secret to Spencer about just who she is.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, there’s spoilers for season 12 and prison Reid, mentions of drugging, mentions of death, use of a knife, use of a gun, violence, death.

Word Count: 4.4K

Part one || Part two || Part three

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Confusion had set in the minute that Y/N had gotten to Spencer’s car, watching the clumsy man nearly trip over his own two feet as he was pulling open the passenger side door, his tender touch against her lower back as he was so lovingly nudging her so she’d get in the car. “I thought you said this killer killed men. Why am I going to the office? Her MO isn’t women.” She tried, her boyfriend’s head shaking.

“Just listen to me!” Spencer snapped, bringing his hands to his hair while drawing in a breath. Trying to compose the very overwhelming emotions that seemed to be taking control. After prison, Spencer became more irritable. It was harder for him to control his emotions, he had major tunnel vision, and he was in a post traumatic stress state that wouldn’t ever leave him. Sure, things got better, in spurts. Therapy did so much for him, his girlfriend could only do so much, it was like his mind was against him.

“We need to get to the office now, okay? I promise you that I will explain everything in vivid detail but I need you in the fucking car! You’re gonna get hurt and I can’t lose someone else. Please just get in the car..” Watching Spencer panic and grow fearful was enough to make Y/N’s heart shatter. Her poor baby. In order to fulfill the man’s wishes, she was pressing a soft kiss against his cheek before climbing into the car, the seatbelt being snapped into place as soon as she was settled. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Who the fuck was trying to take Y/N’s position? To claim all her hard work as their own? There was no doubt those men, no, those dirty pigs deserved to die. However, she was the one doing it. She was delivering justice to women who were failed by the system, by the courts, even by their spouses. What she did was vigilantism, doing what the law couldn’t. Even if her boyfriend was part of that same very law and would look down upon her choices. She had to keep it under the radar. She knew what would happen if her boyfriend was to find out.

She’d have to kill him.

It was almost a little laughable how naive Spencer was with the whole situation with his girlfriend, the way she would come over at all hours of the night, the way she’d always be tightly wound up. However, working in customer service for all shifts was a good excuse for that.

Spencer, the genius FBI profiler who had so much under his belt, had no idea he was in bed with a woman who he wanted to strangle. She’d like to think that he loved her, that he was overlooking everything just because he found solace in her arms. It was something that he told her, saying he needed her, that she made him sane after all the hell that he’d been put through.

Deep down, she knew that he was one of the good ones. The ones who deserved a loving relationship, a woman willing to take care of him, willing to deal with the long nights, days, even weeks when Spencer was off on a case. That was why she was there. To give a man who was the most deserving of love the very thing that he craved, needed. It wasn’t even just the sex that kept her there. It was that studious, lovable dork who always had so much to say, so much to teach her.

“There’s this woman, a woman who has been messing with me for years. I outsmarted her.” Spencer answered, one hand coming up to rub his right eye, the tunnel vision setting in as he was growing more overwhelmed. “Cat Adams. She-“ He let out a low sigh. “She drugged me, she framed me for murder, had me incarcerated, she.. She..” He was taking in a shaky breath while Y/N was reaching over to let her hand rest on his upper arm.

“You don’t have to say it right now, okay? I promise that it’s alright. I’m here for you.” Y/N assured her boyfriend, a weak smile on her face. Oh, she was gonna kill this bitch, for sure. She felt like this was going to be a bigger fight than it needed to be. Way too big.

Spencer was pulling in the parking garage soon after that, sitting in a deafening silence while he tried collecting himself the best that he could. He had to think clearly. Not only was he at risk but his girlfriend was too. Cat had so many people to do her dirty work outside of prison, he knew that. This was her handiwork. He didn't know how he didn't see it before.

Cat made the most sense. She was a 'Black Widow' killer. She used her seduction and charm to lure men in. She saw all men as threats, considered them all as evil and dark as the next. She never spared a thought for most of them. Spencer though.. Oh, Cat was infatuated. He was the only man to ever outsmart her, to arrest her while winning the game that she rigged against him. That woman wouldn't ever leave him alone, not until she was dead.

Being locked in a maximum security prison didn't deter her. Instead, it fueled her. It drove her to dig up every piece on Spencer that she possibly could. Hell, she had him drugged and imprisoned all the while blaming Mr. Scratch.

Emily Prentiss, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, was the one who greeted Spencer and Y/N by the elevator. "I'm glad you could make it. I know you've been busy with your personal investigation." She hummed, turning her attention to Y/N. "I had a suspicion our beloved Dr. Reid had a secret girlfriend." She joked, holding a hand out. "I'm Emily."

Y/N did her research on the BAU leader. She was strong willed, determined, and loyal to her work family. However, the mommy and daddy issues were apparent in her work ethic. The way she took on a more demanding tone, the way she looked at Y/N with that hint of mistrust. It was enough to make the other woman almost respect her. Emily was definitely going to make things difficult if she didn't play things smart.

The leader gets suspicious, and the team turns against her. No thanks.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." Y/N greeted, a smile gracing her features while her hand was reaching out to hold Emily's, the two shaking hands before their hands were falling back to their usual places.

"Spencer. If you wouldn't mind taking Y/N somewhere she can get comfortable, everyone else is waiting on us." Straight to business.

"I know it's not really work appropriate," Spencer began, his gaze falling on his girlfriend before he was taking her hand. "I'd really appreciate it if she came in too. She's been my rock throughout all of this and I don't think I can even talk about.." He paused briefly, making Emily look at Y/N before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. If you would feel more comfortable with her there, she can sit in. However," Now her attention was on Y/N. "I don't know what Spencer has told you but this is a violent case. We are going to be talking about a lot of dark subject matters." She spoke, a warning to the very woman who was behind every single murder except the most recent one.

"I understand. I think that I can handle it. If I can't, I'll quietly excuse myself." Her tone was soft as she offered a gentle smile.

Following close behind her boyfriend and his boss, Y/N was looking around the bullpen. There was a lot of structure and order, yet a hint of chaos judging by the piles of files and other papers on certain desks. She could already guess which one was Spencer's, which made her smile.

Inside the conference room though, the talking was coming to a halt when a new woman was stepping in the room, hand tucked in Spencer's.

There was a blonde woman that was speaking up first, a wide smile on her face. "Who is this?!" She asked, the case at hand almost being forgotten by the woman with purple framed glasses, a dress that was littered with unicorns amongst other fantasy style items. She didn't look like someone who would willingly choose this career, seeming very overjoyed and kind, too kind for the world.

"I'm Y/N. You must be Penelope." Y/N spoke up, the woman perking up even more if it was possible. "You've been talking about me!" She laughed, putting her hands together. "Is this your girlfriend? Oh! Spencer she's so-"

"Garcia."

Emily's voice was bringing the woman back to the heavy reality of the situation, making her smile fall as she nodded. "Sorry, sorry. Um," She began while grabbing the remote on the table. "We have Matthew Thornton." She began, clicking a button on the remote to pull up the crime scene.

Whoever was trying to take Y/N's thunder didn't even do it right. They stabbed the body about seventy times, which was far too much work for her to even attempt. Besides that, she'd never think to leave behind a note taunting anyone. However, this wasn't her. With the way she could feel her boyfriend tense up, she knew this was the work of the woman he told her about in the car.

"She ended up being a part of a well coordinated prison break." Tara was speaking up, her gaze looking over the files in hand while frowning. "How did the guards not notice?" She asked while Matt was looking over at the woman's direction. "Guards were in on it. It doesn't help that some of those same guards were killed while on their shift once the break happened and their clothes were stolen. Makes it easy to scan an ID and open the doors for everyone."

"So, wait," Y/N interjected herself into the conversation, however nobody seemed against her speaking her thoughts out. "With the break and how it flew under the radar for so long, do we know how long they've been out?" She asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. Maybe blaming this on Cat Adams could potentially get her fully off the suspect list.

"According to reports, this went on months ago." David responded, making Luke nod. "Meaning, Cat has been fighting for Spencer's attention in the only way she could. It looks like the killings led up to Spencer's apartment at one point but they stopped, now they are back on track."

Oh. Blessing in disguise maybe?

"What do we know?" Spencer finally broke his silence, his hand reaching over for one of the files before he was opening it, although it was almost like he had it to where Y/N could see too. Was she unknowingly getting signed up to help?

"She was seen in a convenience store security footage." Penelope answered, quickly pulling up the files. As they went through the footage a couple times, the blonde was pausing it on Cat's face. There was no doubt about it being her. Why was she playing the long game though? When Y/N found someone she wanted dead, she got on with it. There wasn't any doubt going through her mind.

"She's taunting us. We could be walking directly into a trap." Emily pointed out the obvious, her hands resting against the tabletop while keeping a sharp eye on the screen ahead of her. "I think it's time for us to go off of our leads. Garcia, send us coordinates for her last known locations. Judging by how recent this footage is, she's close. I’m pairing all of us off. We need to play this safe.”

Emily just didn't know how close Cat really was.

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

Cat had successfully evaded police capture for months now, keeping her eyes on one specific person. She saw Y/N approach Spencer in a bar a few months ago, getting cozy with him before going back to his apartment. So.. Cat did what she did best, digging.

She followed Y/N around on her nights of leisure, watching her use her intoxicating voice and seduction to lure unsuspecting men back to shitty motels and other discreet places just to kill them. Yet, after all that, she’d made sure to not leave a trace of evidence behind before she left.

Going straight home to her boyfriend, an FBI agent who would no doubt kill her if she found out.

That was when Cat decided to make her escape known, attracting the attention of the BAU in order to throw this woman under the bus. Cat’s obsession with Spencer knew absolutely no bounds. She would do what she could to make him suffer, all the while managing to keep him all to herself.

He didn’t deserve to be happy. No, he deserved to be with someone who was meant for him. She knew from the moment she met Spencer that he was an evil person, harboring a dark side that only she had managed to bring out after being part of completely breaking him down, making him crumble into a form of himself that he would never fully recognize.

She knew they’d be catching on soon. The BAU never disappointed her, she was going to one place where they wouldn’t be looking. In fact, it was the place where Y/N was sent after Emily was making the woman leave due to the fact that no normal civilian needed to be part of this. Spencer was against the idea entirely but at the promise of an agent going to guard his girlfriend, he had to deflate and accept she needed to go home, where she was safe.

So, as she was being ushered home by some big agent to keep her safe, Y/N could help but frown. They thought she needed a man to protect her?? She knew what she was doing. If Cat even showed up on her radar, it’d be easy to kill her. No guard would be able to hold her back either. She’d pieced together every horrible thing that Cat coordinated against Spencer, the way she pulled the strings in an elaborate plan to completely break him.

There was going to be a long, painful death in store for the notorious escaped convict, that was all she knew.

“You don’t have to be here you know.” Y/N murmured to the man beside her, her hand reaching in her purse so she could unlock her front door. “Sorry, ma’am. Orders.” He wasn’t gonna let up. It was enough to get under her skin, wanting to grab her blade tucked away in her bag and slit his throat. However, she wasn’t going to fully incriminate herself after seemingly getting away with murder.

As soon as the door was unlocked, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Thankfully, the man outside would just be standing guard, which was a shitty decision if Cat was as good as they said she was.

Y/N had gotten her shoes off before heading to her kitchen, flipping on the light before raising an eyebrow as she saw Cat Adams, the woman the whole team was looking for, at her kitchen table. She had a folder resting on the table, labeled for Spencer. “You’re home! Thank god, I was worried I’d have to go find you!”

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment? How did you get into my apartment?”

“I have my ways! Now, why don’t you sit down?”

The way that this woman was talking to her had Y/N rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave before I shove a knife in your throat. I mean, it would be self defense, after all. You broke into my home, you’re a convicted murderer.”

“Ah. You’re a murderer too though.” Cat stated, opening the file in front of her to reveal the prints linking Y/N with each victim. The same bar where she met Spencer, the same drink, the same body language. “I mean.. This is plenty of evidence. The cameras may not work there but people have their eyes open. Always. I know so many people around here, you’d be surprised.”

Cat didn’t give Y/N time to ask any questions. “Now, what I wanna know is, what are you doing with Spencer Reid? Your whole crusade is to kill men who have gotten away with violence against their partners and/or their children. Men who are violent, harboring dark thoughts and using their strength to either take life away, or to try and end it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with Spencer.”

“You don’t? You do know that Spencer murdered a woman, correct? In cold blood, might I add. She was trying to help him and he returned the favor by stabbing her to death.”

“Because you drugged him, Cat. I’m not fucking stupid, I’ve already been made aware.”

“Were you aware that after his release from prison, he came to visit me? He had to talk with me about my involvement, which I’m sure you know that I had his precious mommy under my lock and key. Do you know what he did to me? What he said?”

There was silence from Y/N’s end. That was something she hadn’t heard yet.

“You see, I was pregnant in prison. Spencer had come to question me, asking me all sorts of bullshit questions. So I answered. He got impatient with me. Started yelling, threw a table out of the way, and slammed me against a brick wall. He was going to choke me to death, Y/N. I had bruises for months after that. I even miscarried. If JJ hadn’t been there, I would’ve been dead.” The story wasn’t as tragic as Cat believed it to be. She deserved it.

“You fight for women and children who have been fucked over by the crooked structure of law enforcement. The same law enforcement that your sweet boyfriend is a part of. Killing all of those men was a waste of time. If you truly cared about those people who you claim to be fighting for, Spencer would’ve been dead a long time ago. I respected your choices leading up to that moment. The moment that you grew weak. The moment you betrayed every single thing you were fighting for.”

As if right on cue though, there was the sound of banging right outside the front door, Spencer’s voice being muffled by the front door as he called out to his girlfriend. He willingly sent her home, thinking she’d be safe. All the while, Cat left plenty of clues as to where she was. “Right on time! I knew Spencie wouldn’t fail me.” She grinned.

“Go be a good girl and unlock the door. I think you and him need to have a long talk about what you did.” She spoke, leaning back in her chair while nodding towards the front door, where Spencer was still yelling for his girlfriend. If she didn’t open the door soon, he’d have to pull a Derek and kick the wooden door clean off its hinges.

This was where Y/N’s heart fell into her stomach. Realization was setting in. Spencer was going to know. He was going to see the incriminating bullshit that Cat had in front of her. Everything was going to fall down to Y/N killing Spencer. This was what Cat needed her for. What she used her for.

She quietly approached the front door, unlocking each individual lock before pulling it open. “Oh thank god!” Spencer croaked, his arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend while he held her flush against his chest. The comfort of knowing she was okay was enough to have him sobbing in her arms, unaware of what darkness was looming in the kitchen. “She’s on the way here.” He spoke, him against her shoulder while his eyes were closed.

The moment was gone in an instant. “I’m already here, Spencie. It’s so nice to see you again. I bet that you thought you were doing justice here,” Cat smirked, body leaning against the kitchen archway as she let an eyebrow raise. “I suggest you come inside, sit with us in the kitchen. We both have a lot to discuss with you.” She began, causing the couple to break apart from the hug as Y/N grabbed her boyfriend’s hand. “Come on.” She whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she led him into the kitchen.

“Now, I think you guys should recruit me into the fbi. Because I solved this case for you!” Cat grinned, pushing the closed file to Spencer. “Your killer, the one you’ve been searching for, has been right under your nose this whole time. It’s not even me!” She had a wicked smile on her face. This was another shot to Spencer’s heart, making him go through pain all over again. As long as she was alive, Spencer wouldn’t ever escape her.

You could hear a pin drop the minute that Spencer opened the file, his eyes staring at the pictures inside while his mouth ran dry. That was Y/N. His girlfriend. With the men who were murdered, the same bar they met in and everything.

“What the fuck is this?” There was anger in his voice, betrayal. “You’ve let me nearly kill myself from lack of sleep and bringing me to near heart attack level because of you?!” The venom in his voice had Y/N flinching upon impact, her eyes squeezing shut. “You don’t understand-“ She began, though it wasn’t long before Spencer was throwing the file down and standing.

“Was I another victim?! Were you playing the fucking long game with me? You wanted to catch me fully off guard?” He growled, the woman being backed up to the wall. Y/N felt powerless, her heart beating out of her chest as the man she loved was towering over her, keeping her trapped between himself and the wall.

However, once his back was to Cat, it was almost like something else flashed in his eyes. There was anger but now there was something else. Encouragement? She didn’t think much about it until Spencer was reaching over to take a knife out of the knife block, holding it out to his girlfriend. “Do it then. Go for it.” He growled, though there wasn’t fear behind his eyes. No.. There was a fucking smirk on his face, egging her on to make a move.

Y/N was slowly taking the knife once Spencer backed up, this time sitting in a chair. There were a few moments of silence while Y/N was looking at her reflection within the blade of the knife, something ticking inside of her. Something she’d been waiting to act on for a while. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking over at her boyfriend who seemed unbothered. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Just hurry up. We don’t have much time.” 

The way she was encouraged made her face Cat, then everything went black.

The first thing she did was charge the other woman, knocking her out of the chair. The air was thick with adrenaline as the woman was wrestling the other to the ground. This was a long time coming. However, cat put up one hell of a fight, the woman ending up getting a good hit on Y/N and knocking her to the ground, which had Cat be the knife wielder.

As the woman was climbing on top of the other, she was pushing the knife deep into Y/N’s shoulder, the woman letting out a loud cry. “You’re pathetic, you know that? All that promise? All that strength. He was going to take it away from you anyway. You never loved him and he never loved-“

BANG

Blood was splattered all over Y/N’s face, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the apartment. The deadweight of Cat falling on top of her was enough to shock her. Did Spencer just.. There were a few moments where Y/N used the adrenaline coursing through her veins to shove the dead weight off of her.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Spencer asked after a moment, using a lighter to light up the incriminating evidence in the sink to let the pictures burn completely. “I’ve known the whole fucking time. You’re not exactly subtle. Be real. I was in that bar on a stakeout.” He continued on while looking back at Y/N.

“I was supposed to go in, do my job, and get out. However, you sat beside me. The way you were talking to me, touching me, and your body language gave you up immediately. However.. Against my better judgment, I had some sort of trust in you. I took you home with me.” He began while turning on the water to put out the fire from the burning evidence before grabbing the unidentifiable pictures and throwing them in the trash.

“I fell in love with you. Even if you didn’t deserve that love. Quite frankly, you still don’t.” He was taking off the purple scarf around his neck, wrapping it around her bleeding wound while he was moving to grab his microphone, putting a finger up. “Prentiss, send up medics. Cat’s down and Y/N is wounded.” He sent off the message while letting his arms cross as he looked over his girlfriend.

“I’m not gonna say a word about any of this. I told you that I refuse to lose you and I mean that. You’re not going to be locked up in a jail cell the rest of your life or mine. But you have to promise me that you’re not gonna fuck around and keep doing this bullshit. I mean it, if I feel like you are killing anyone else..” He was grabbing her chin by making her look up at him.

“I’ll kill you myself. Now, go get stitched up before you bleed out.” There was a soft kiss pressed against her lips while he was standing straight again, walking out of the apartment to greet the other team members downstairs.

He left Y/N to stand there, mostly in shock.

What the fuck just happened?

[seokminkisser]

11:42 PM

seungcheol is a bit of a toxic ass in here, this is not how i see him he’s my baby boy <3333 but also i just needed to write something angsty so please enjoy and leave some feedback!!!

seungcheol didn’t know how it had gotten this far.

he wholeheartedly did not even believe he was a jealous person but something about mingyu’s hand on your arm made him see red.

he was a lucky man, he knew that for a fact and everyday spent with you reinforced the love he held for you. he trusted you, he really did. and yet, his jealousy seemed to always get the best of him.

on his left, he heard you giggle at something one of the boys said and although your hand was intertwined with his, the fact that you were giving someone your beautiful smile that should be only his made him want to claw his heart out.

you must have noticed that seungcheol was not really present in the gathering, your thumb making slow circles on his hand as he knocks back a few more shots. seungcheol squeezes your hand and leans down to whisper into your ear: “can we go, please.”

minutes later after saying your goodbyes, you were walking to your apartment, hands still clasped tight. seungcheol is quiet and he knows it’s bothering you but he also knows that if he opens his mouth he might say something he regrets.

reaching your door you turn to him and you give him a soft smile and seungcheol feels his heart bursting and he can’t keep it in anymore.

“why do you always do this.”

you frown a little and tilt your head to the side as you look at your boyfriend and seungcheol feels small under your gaze but the alcohol is spurring him on.

“do what?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about, you seem to always be so happy to flirt with my friends.” seungcheol says, and he feels in the back of his mind that the words he is using are wrong, he is saying everything all wrong and when you abruptly let go of his hand he can feel the dread already settling in.

“what the fuck are you trying to say seungcheol?”

you used his full name. you rarely use his full name. he knows he should take it back, apologize, explain his feelings in a rational manner and yet his soju filled mind takes over and he cannot stop talking.

“you and mingyu were so close together tonight. don’t you know he likes you? are you that naive that you can’t see it? do you just have no respect for our relationship, because you seem to have no problem embarrassing me like that in front of my friends.”

“what—“

“i bet if i hadn’t been there you would have just fucked him wouldn’t you.”

the minute the words leave his mouth his heart plummets and he wants to take it back and he wants to apologize and wipe away the tears softly falling down your cheeks. he wants to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, he wants to do so many things to make you feel better and yet his feet stay rooted on the ground. staring at you as you hug yourself looking at him with so much pain in your tear filled eyes.

“why would you say that.”

“because you keep fucking flirting with him right in front of my eyes? if you can do that in front of me i don’t even want to know what you would do when i’m not around.”

the slap you deliver on his left cheek comes before he finishes his sentence. he knows that he deserves it and he thinks now it’s time to apologize, beg for your forgiveness, put the nonsense he just spouted behind you.

“fuck you seungcheol. i am so sick and fucking tired of you not trusting me.” you say and turn your back to him, shaky hands trying to unlock your door.

“and yet you’re not answering me, i must have hit a nerve right?”

someone should just fucking shoot me at this point.

you turn around, the pain in your eyes filled with anger, anger so burning it seems to drain all the alcohol fogging seungcheol’s brain.

“we’re done.” you say, fingers fumbling as you pry your silver promise ring off your left hand. seungcheol watches you with wide eyes and suddenly everything is clear. what the fuck was he doing?

“wait, what? baby wait—“

“no, seungcheol you wait. i cannot do this anymore. at first i thought your jealousy and possessiveness was cute and all but now it’s making me rip my hair out. your mistrust in me shows that you don’t respect me as a partner and frankly i care too much about my well being to let you talk down to me the way you do. i don’t even know who you are right now.”

the tears are still falling down your face as you take seungcheols hand and drop your ring in his palm. his eyes are searching yours as he scrambles to collect himself and the string of apologies resting on his tongue. he moves to speak but you interrupt him as you finally press your door open.

“do not contact me. ever. i will leave your things outside my door tomorrow so you can pick them up. i never want to see you again.”

with that you slam the door shut in his face and seungcheol falls to his knees in front of your door, forehead pressed against the wood.

he fucked up.

[friedchickenluver]

Oml, okay I’m sorry this kinda late but I’ve been working on it since i first got it trust me. I originally had another draft for it but then that and the request got deleted somehow .😭

But the request basically asked for an innocent, naive, virgin reader x miguel so this goes out to my anon whos been waiting so patiently :3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊’𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙭 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙫𝙚!𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.7k+

───※ ·❆· ※───

Miguel obviously notices you from the first day you walked in for your interview, you were so apparent with the way your coyness carried the majority of your outer persona; and it was oddly appealing to him. He couldn’t tell you why of course, he couldn’t tell his damn self either, but something so magnetic about how you were just all bright-eyed and everything destructive seemed to fly over your prudish head. All you focused on were projects, work, test runs, everything a good employee worries about. All you would talk about is how you could possibly help with group projects, all that needed to be done or worked on.

Nothing more, just work. He tells himself everyday, mentally that it shouldn’t have to be a problem that you’re exclusively interested in only your studies, In fact, it’s what his life is in dear need of in the midst of all this chaos that comes with the great responsibility of being a CEO.

Yet, he couldn’t help but to be so woefully curious about you, it’s in his blood to want to learn more, expand his knowledge even to places some may consider a bit extreme. Like an obsession, but he’d never admit that to not even himself. Nothing wrong with harmlessly getting to know you. Right?

In everything that you do, he can’t resist to admire.

Your work ethic was insatiable, it looked like you could do this whole thing all day and night. Problem solving, critical, yet abstract thinking. He could easily do those things without much struggle, as he’s been doing it for nearly his whole life. However when you do it, he suddenly feels outdone, and he hasn’t felt that way since his close friend Allen had gotten 2 points higher on his GPA calculation back in high school. Enough said, this man was left fascinated with your character, so he would try everything in his willpower to work with you, getting information out of you as subtly as possible.

And you, dear god have mercy on his heart, were so charming, so bubbly, as ready for life and all that it throws randomly in your direction. That could never be Miguel, he’s all too drowned within the harsh depths of cynicism, that all views on the greater side seemed impossible for him to even grasp. You, however, made him want to live just a little longer. Your energy gave him a better taste of life, and sure you weren’t perfect literally, but obsession overcame his all making you look flawless in his eyes. Oh, he didn’t care, he didn’t care at all,

He craved more from you, a whole lot more of that sugary innocence. To find out what was underneath that said exterior.

Little quips about how good you looked when you came in everyday, or how great you were at your work, only flew over your head. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came of it. Frustrating, yes, but the chase was so fun, he’d get lost in it. Was it wrong for the man to want to break that pure, untainted demeanor, have her all for himself? Make sure that if anyone was going to break that sweet top layer, that it was going to be him. Because, oh god, were you gorgeous. Men from all over the workplace tried their wits on you and it never worked no matter how outright dirty it was. You could only grow heat in your cheeks, and an awkward giggle would breathe itself out from past your lips, “Sorry, I, uh…need to get back to my test run for my group project. Have a good day sir!”

Miguel was going to finesse his way into your panties one way or another, but respectfully of course. He’s a gentleman at heart, and if other guys weren’t going to capture your interests, he definitely was.

You find yourself laughing aloud at remarks he would make in those moments when you two were alone and in the comfort of a shared lab room. Those relaxed eyes followed your every mannerism, studying your identity with great attention. And on the rare moments, you’d squeeze a genuine grin from the taller man, flashy the sexiest smile you’ve ever laid eyes on. Damn him, the effect he held over you was embarrassingly obvious, but you couldn’t help but to be so allured by his own character.

Like the other day, you could’ve sworn your sweet pussy throbbed at the way his voice dropped whilst having a one-on-one conversation in a more compact testing room.

Sex was a topic you without a doubt knew was there, that’s not what you were here for though. Work and a paycheck was all that was to come out of this job. At least before meeting Miguel…Goodness. Yes, you hadn’t had a sexual encounter prior to this, because losing something so closely intimate to you was a bit of a struggle to want to give up. You needed the right person, but you also hated rejection with a passion. And guess where that has you. Still a virgin unfortunately.

Miguel tries to get under your skin for days, even weeks. He uses all his best flirtations and remarks that seemed to get all the other women he was with riled up somehow. But, you were like catching a chicken. It took alot for him to somehow convince you into his bed. That was until he outright told you what he wanted one night while you were over at his place.

“Let me sleep with you…in the name of science.”

ఌఌఌఌఌ

A rather large hand possessing a quite wide palm, rough on its innermost side, grabbed a firm hold onto your neck. Yet, a contrasting feeling of soft lips crashed onto yours in a fitful passion of a kiss that had begun between the two. Miguel’s knee massaged methodically around her soaked heat, and you bucked into the delicious friction so eagerly. Another hand accompanied around the other side of your neck, having both of his hands choking you up by resting his thumbs comfortably onto the front of your throat.

You couldn’t help but to crumble, and melt, and even submit, to his whims as he promptly takes the lead in your first time. His tongue that shoved itself against yours, then going off to explore each and every inch of your heated mouth, slicking his own wet saliva onto yours. Your body practically burned on the inside of your gut, rutting and grinding roughly down on his thigh, adjusting forward so that his pretty girl could please herself all ways possible.

Want, isn’t a good enough word to describe the overwhelming feeling of her boss’s body flush against her own fleshy body. He pressed on her throat to elicit a choked groan from you, pushing your head completely back up on the wall. Taking easy advantage of your mouth being left agape, he conjured up a wad of spit just to shoot it down into your mouth. Your eyes rolled once he caught your lips again, making quick work to your clothes, nearly tearing them apart. Your top was easily discarded off of your body, falling into a but a clump of cloth on the floor.

The two of you pulled back, lips still in some form of contact, a slim strand of saliva connecting your faces. It’s so damn hot, being this close to someone felt so surreal for you, your pussy couldn’t help but feel the same way. You were so fucking wet, you’d think you probably peed on yourself, but no. It’s just him.

“Miguel, I-“

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, leaving any kind of marks he could leave. Suckling, teasing, and leaving fleeting kisses fluttering across your porcelain skin. You went for his belt, he went for your bra. Oddly enough it was like second nature for him to know how to undo a bra, you on the other hand were struggling a bit to seem experienced trying to unbuckle his belt with just one hand.

Miguel only picked you up, your legs wrapping around him tightly, the sudden action threw you completely off guard whilst trying to take off his belt. Noticing his bulge was poking at your cunt you noticed something.

Oh. Goodness, he was huge. And he was so achingly hard too.

Heat formulated in your face, thinking about how it looked, how it would be inside of you.

You ended up falling into some soft duvets on the surface of his bed, he rested his forearms beside either side of your head before coming down to steal another kiss from you. Your hand began to leisurely slide along your body, on and on until you reached for your folds. A finger found itself on your clit, starting to slowly massage it in minor circular motions. You tried rubbing up and down, flicking your clit delicately to earn more slickness between your legs. The man above you was kind enough to slide your bottoms and panties down for you, and god were they damp. He tossed them back onto the floor, as you would open your legs wider to stroke the bundle of candy sweet nerves slightly faster than before.

Some mewls fell loosely from your mouth as you toyed with yourself, enjoying every, single, sensation. Miguel continued to press his lips, mapping his way around your body, taking note of all of your body language. Suddenly, his tongue peaked out from out of his mouth, licking down your body towards your sex. You only continued to play with yourself teasing your incoming orgasm, and he brought his mouth at the bottom of your pussy, starting from the beginning of your folds, licking upwards making it to your orifice. Before you know it he’s burying his skilled tongue inside of you, deeply.

The way you would arch into his tongue, leaning onto its soft, pink flesh, you felt like you were losing touch with your mind.

“Faster. Come for me, come for this tongue.” He groaned softly against your lips, continuing on to plunging his tongue right back into you. You cried out, bringing your legs to lock his face hot against your pussy jerking around a bit feeling an impending orgasm to spurt itself from inside of you. He split open your clit, rolling and tasting out your inner flesh. Pulling it gently between his lips by suctioning it back into his mouth, not letting up the work that he put his tongue through.

Miguel swallowed, sucking her pussy up to and from his mouth, combining his actions to earn proper moans from the woman below him.

He practically couldn’t get enough of you. You tasted as good as you sounded when you talked numbers and calculations, and he was one suction away from just locking his jaw on your clit and abusing it with his tongue.

But, he did, however, have to control himself at least somewhat. Even if you did want exactly just that.

Bringing his forearms to interlock your legs in place, and taking his thumbs to spread you open to have your pussy all on display to his dark gaze. Oh, you felt like you were going to tap out already, too early in the game that you two were playing. But deep down, you craved for oh, so much more and you didn’t want things to end just yet.

Him groaning and cursing against you, sent shivers caressing up and down your spine. Those grunts about how good you tasted reverberated throughout not only your body and core, but your mind. It got so real at this point now and you never wanted to stop. All those fantasies about this man shoving his fat dick, cervical deep in you until his balls would spank harshly against your ass due to his unforgiving treatment. You two could finally act on it, after weeks of teasing and prodding at one another.

Your throat was already running dry, as you finally came undone, creaming rather intensely from him being so good at eating you out. You would come all over his tongue, also happening to get a bit on the tip of his nose, but he didn’t care. Long as he got to shove his face in between those drooling lips, he was a-ok. Taking the cum in his mouth, he met back up with you at eye-level, grabbing your throat once again before prompting you to open up your mouth again. You obliged, letting him feed you back your taste from when you came on his tongue so you could know how amazing you tasted to him, the liquid sliding so steadily out from the back of his mouth into yours.

Immediately after the long string of saliva soon dissipated, his lips were back on yours as passionate as ever.

Miguel wanted you badly at this point, any more foreplay could knock his mental unstable. With the way your body begged for attention, reducing you down to a needy little slut who just wanted to feel it again.

“Please. Do it to me Miguel.”

Miguel pressed your legs backwards onto the mattress not caring if you’re that flexible enough, shifting all of most of his body weight to hold your legs back and in place.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you actually tell me, mami.”

You watched intently, Miguel now ridding himself free of his own clothes. As soon as he pulled off his shirt, it revealed the beautiful array of pure toned muscle, displaying his flawless, olive skin.

All for me, you thought, for tonight at least.

He made quick work of his pants and boxer briefs, and there it was. He was without a doubt big, like, pornstar big. Its tip was a brownish-red, and along its girthy base, two visible pulsing veins ran their way down to his pelvis.

You nearly passed just looking at the damn size, head falling back onto the mattress in speechlessness.

“Miguellll, I want your dick baby, show mami how bad it gets. Please.”

Miguel laid down back on top of her heated form, pushing her legs all the way back until her thighs were touching the mattress, and threw her shins over his shoulders. He aligned himself perfectly over her entrance, the tip of his dick pressing directly over your pussy. Now, since you were indeed a virgin it took a good minute of struggle to actually slide it in. He had to readjust a couple of times, and slick his length up somehow in order for him to fit. It wasn’t long however before he at last pushed inside, but very slowly of course, taking in mind that you were tight as shit and never been penetrated any time prior.

“Mhmmm, there it is baby..breathe for me.”

You began to cry, genuine tears. Not out of sadness or anger obviously, but out of never being stretched so much in your life. She could only choke and trip over any sense of wording attempting to come out of her mouth when he finally pulled back out, leaving only his tip inside. He pushed back in again steadily to gain a sluggish, yet deep rhythm.

“Yeah I totally should’ve gone in with a condom. Made this a whole lot easier, fuck.”

“A-ahhh- fucking, MIGUELLLL.”

“I know, I know princess, you gotta adjust first. I promise, you’re doing excellent so far.”

Almost instantly you came all over his base once more mid stroke, making wet squelching noises sound out around the dark room. He laughed against your chest as he watched you come undone, and he barely even moved around in you. A solid white ring of your cum materialized around the bottom of his length.

“Díos mio muñeca, I barely got started.”

Now you are embarrassed at how fast you came for him. He hit this certain spot inside you that made your stomach burn and created this euphoric sensation ricocheting all over and giving you goosebumps. You look away flustered as ever, right before a hand firmly corrects your vision back to his own. That gorgeous face of his is now serious and demanding.

“Eyes on me querida.”

He would bring his hand to hold under the women’s knees where they were originally, and resumed his drawn out movements until you adjusted accordingly.

“Ohhhh~ yes!”

You felt your stomach spasm, your body jerking in response to the friction of Miguel’s fucking huge dick dragging and pushing against your virgin walls. It hurt in a way, but it felt amazing due to his movements angling perfectly on your g-spot.

He didn’t go faster, but rather harder. Lifting his lower half up and back down in you repeatedly. He hummed in mock response to all the little nothings that spilled from your pretty lips. With every plunge inside he would hum, letting you know how good you are for allowing him to work his magic. You squirted so much with each and every thrust, that you’ve soaked a good part of his sheets, but also his lower half. Your juices dripping and falling down his dick to his thighs, you couldn’t help but to sob at how he had you underneath him. Your quads, your abdominals, and hips all burned and were already pretty fucked out, him stretching you all kind of ways could put you to knock you out at any moment.

“Miguel! Make me take that fucking dick, please!”

Oh he loved that. Too much. But she begged appropriately, and he was willing to please her with everything he could possibly give.

Miguel lifted her up off of the bed abruptly, only to interlock his arms underneath her knees and told her to hold onto his neck tightly. Using his strength, he pulled all the way out and slammed back into her sore pussy.

“Said you wanted me to make you take this shit huh? Well here you go mami.”

His pace was extreme, using only his arms to aid him in pushing in and pulling out. And every single time, he hits that perfect spot that’ll finish you in not too long from now. The loud slapping of bodies slamming into each, slight sticky noises you could hear from the layer of sweat that would build up and try to keep you two together. Those wanton sounds of deep coital sex were music to Miguel’s sensitive ears. He stood tall in that pussy trying to fuck out another beautiful orgasm from you, make you scream his name for real this time so that anyone living close by could know who she belongs to.

Stray strands of hair started to stick to his forehead, focusing on fucking her so intensely gaining a bit more speed in his thrusts. Realistically, all you can do in that situation is take it ‘till it reaches deep inside your guts. Digging your nails into his back so fiercely that you broke real skin, causing his blood to trickle at the fresh wounds. He groaned out loud, letting a good string of spit hang from his reddened lips, “Fuck! Cum for me mi vida!”

“Mhmmmm, yes, ‘m gonna-“

Throwing your head back so far you caused yourself whiplash, but you came so hard you cried even more. Tightening your gummy walls around his pulsating, hot, dick he moaned into the sex-filled atmosphere of his master bedroom. He had to carry you back to bed, placing your upper half on the dark blankets face down, and wrapping his strong arms around you tightly. His thrusts never faltered, even with you bent in half off of his bed, crying and screaming. Your voice had long since reduced itself down to a shrill, dry wail, eyes seemed like they were permanently lolled to the back of your head.

Your overstimulated clit gained a friction against the edge of the bed, you hated it now since it hurts instead of any pleasure coming out of it. Miguel returned a hand around the length of your neck, changing positions slightly by now standing all the way up, hitting it from the back. His pelvis continuously rammed back into your ass causing it to become sensitive and sting to the touch, now at this point he was close himself compressing his hand around her throat even more than earlier. She pulled her plush, bottom lips between her two rows of teeth and bit down hard enough to make it bleed. Watching his dazed, yet victorious expression as she continued to get her pussy jackhammered against the firm mattress.

You hiccuped violently, allowing another stream of tears to leak out your tear ducts in pure sexual gratification. His name spilled loosely and incoherently from your now gravelly voice, you brought your hand up to the mattress and repeatedly tried to get that you’re overwhelmed by tapping it vigorously.

“No can do, baby, I’m too close to let you tap out now.”

Fuck.

Miguel let go of her neck before replacing it with his face, kissing and licking over all of his marks from his doing.

“Cariño, you on the pill?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Taking that as a no.”

Miguel’s hips started to waver, losing his rhythm and the both of their moans synchronized, as both were drawing to their finishes. You came first after a couple of his solid thrusts, letting an indistinguishable noise between a croak and a voice crack.

“Ahhh~ daddy, cum in me! Give it to me!”

Even if she did offer for him not to pull out, he still wanted to be responsible as it’s her first time ever doing this. He didn’t want to add on to any problems she already had going on in her life with an unplanned child. Officially in about five more sloppy thrusts, his seed began to conjure up the inside of his cock before he came.

“Hey, c’mere and open your mouth.” Miguel simply stated, and as she did as she was told, she kind of hissed trying to move over to open up her mouth to his dick. He pumped quickly at its shaft, running his thumb over the slick, round tip to trigger white strings of hot, solid white cum to land in both her mouth and face. Her tongue now covered in his nut, eyelashes that fluttered innocently, now has cum falling off of them in such a vulgar manner.

Damn, it felt like such a privilege to be able to rid away with your innocence.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Hello! I have one interesting idea for you 🐱

How about if Sebastian Michaelis is in love with the music and astrology teacher who comes to teach Ciel (he is kind, but not stupid. He himself realized that Sebastian is not a human). ->

One rainy evening, Y/N and Sebastian are making cookies or something sweet for the others, it could be something like a fluff (sfw) . Cute ~

If you don't like the idea, then skip it! I wish all the best!o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

Written in the stars

Sebastian Michaelis x male astrologist/music teacher reader.

Sfw/fluff

I hope you like it this is my first time doing something like this

As a music teacher for the nobles you knew a few things you knew the gossip the idle chat and you knew what was meant to be, you knew all these things after all they are written in the stars all things considered you knew that there were other things out there supernatural “things” I mean you were never the naive type but you had never met any supernatural being well that was until you went to the phantomhive resident, you were there to give music instructions to the young earl as you arrived something felt off but you ignored it as you were soon greeted by a man you assumed was the butler “ welcome to the phantomhive residence sir L/n” the black haired male spoke with his signature closed eye smile “glad you could have me” I spoke trying to be as polite as I could “but of course you are the best music teacher around” the man spoke showing his red eyes, as soon as I seen his ruby red eyes I knew that he was in fact not a human and by the look on his face he knew that I seen through his secret “well look at the Time we must not dwell around you have lessons with my young master after all” the demon spoke “indeed I do” the demon soon turned around and showed me to the earl, once we arrived to the arts room I was greeted by a Ciel holding a violin “shall we get started I spoke” “we shall” ciel spoke while y/n was teaching Ciel how to play the violin Sebastian was checking the shorter male out looking at him in aw as the male played the violin Sebastian felt entranced by the humans beauty but more than that his talent and before he knew it the lessons where over “you have gotten better” I spoke “indeed I have” Ciel spoke feeling proud of himself, right as I was about to leave I heard Ciel say “would you like to stay for tea and cookies?” It took a second for me to process “I don’t see why not I have nothing else on my schedule” as I said that I could have sworn I seen Sebastian smile widely “well then I should go get started on it right away my lord”

“Yes they are”

Sebastian spoke “I can help if you would like after all my family has a lot of bakers” “that would be great” ciel said making it obvious he just has a sweet tooth, as me and Sebastian start to walk towards the kitchen he speaks “what type of cookies would you like to make?” “Hmm how about f/c they are really good for rainy days and everyone will love them” “that sounds like a lovely idea” “thank you” you gave him a smile and walked into the kitchen leaving the demon a blushing mess as you start to look around grabbing ingredient and setting them down on the table you try to get the flour off the top shelf when suddenly you hear “do you need some help” “that would be really nice” you say blushing with embarrassment, you and Sebastian get started on making the cookies “so do you have a partner?” The demon asks trying to break the silence “no, no I do not” I say thinking about Sebastian “oh well would you like to go out on a date with me then” the black haired male asked “I would really like that” right as I finished my sentence the timer for the cookies ringed “well looks like they are done” Sebastian said “yep!” I said enthusiastically, sebastian and I took the cookies too the dinning room where I see three clumsy people breaking things and a annoyed looking Ciel “cookies?” I said trying to lighten the mood, after Ciel took a few cookies I was soon attacked by three people who I found out where called finny, mey rin, and bardroy they all started to ask for a cookie so I caved in and the next thing I know they where all gone “I saved you one” I said to Sebastian as I handed him a cookie “thank you” he said smiling I looked at the time it was 8:23 and it was getting dark “thank you for having me” I spoke as I walked out to my carriage, on my way out sebastian stopped me “don’t forget about our dinner” he whispered in my ear giving me a closed eye smile “I won’t” I replied smiling ear to ear

[powdermelonkeg]

Out of curiosity, why Gale/Taliesin? I'd have thought you'd match Astarion with Taliesin and maybe Lucien or Remiel with Gale. Not to say I dislike the ship, I can see the potential, but I'm curious where it came from.

Funny answer:

"I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me, I'm known to try my hand at poetry."

Divines, ask him to dinner before you make a proposal, Gale! Have some decorum!

Serious answer:

So, I do get the impulse to match like with like. Astarion and Taliesin have a LOT in common; roguelike qualities and smooth, self-assured charm, an affinity for knife tricks, sass and drama, some good vanity. Same with Gale and Lucien (can't say anything for Remiel, haven't had a chance to do a proper playthrough with her yet).

But camaraderie and shared personality traits don't necessarily mean they'd compliment each other in a romantic sense.

Let's start with Lucien. He's the youngest of the group, younger even than Wyll (iirc, Joseph said he was 21? He might be a couple years older, but regardless, Wyll is 24). Bubbly, bright, full of enthusiasm and scholarly wit, with a penchant for jokes and a drive for exploration.

Can Lucien talk Gale out of blowing himself up for Mystra?

Would he, Mr. I'm-going-to-ride-a-daedric-horse, my-new-best-friend-is-a-murderous-automaton, discourage Professor Hubris from claiming the Crown of Karsus?

I think Lucien would be concerned for Gale. I think he would know the right option. But I don't think he has the finesse to navigate the tangled weave (heh) that makes up Gale. Lucien is naive, he's sweet, he's willing to accommodate, to the point that I don't think he could tell Gale "no" when it mattered most.

Would they get along? Absolutely! Lucien could teach Gale how to handle magicka, Gale could teach Lucien how to conduct the Weave. Both of them could have lengthy philosophical debates that go over everyone else's heads. Gale would have enough caution to temper Lucien's dwemerology enthusiasm, Lucien would encourage all kinds of discovery into Tamriel's wonders. But I see that manifesting as a mentor-apprentice sort of relationship. Still very close, but having them depend on each other in the way Gale approaches romance would be...self-destructive, I think.

Taliesin and Astarion are a similar, if slightly more dark-tinted, deal. Tally's just gotten out of an organization of horrible, horrible people, whose actions in which he was complicit. He's trying to be better. Astarion has just left a situation of literal slavery to one of the most awful people on the Sword Coast. He's enjoying the chance to be worse. We know how Astarion feels and his opinions on things; he likes hurting people, he's very self-centered, he has a lot to work on himself across his entire character arc as he comes into his freedom.

Personally, I think they'd make each other worse.

That's not to say that I can't see it happening. I could, definitely. It would take a good chunk of meeting in the middle, tiptoeing around each other's baskets that they're struggling to unpack, Tally's aversion to vampires, Astarion's casual cruelty as he lashes out. My personal opinion is that any getting involved would be via Astarion's seduce-and-fling strategy so he gets that foot in the door for Tally's sympathy, and Tally not ever taking it further because Astarion reminds him too much of his fellow justiciars and never assumed it to be more than transactional.

If they DID somehow make it to the endgame, assuming they did everything right, I can see it all falling apart at Cazador.

Tally would probably object to Astarion becoming the Ascendant. Everything in Astarion's life points to ascension being a dangerous thing--if not for continuing Cazador's reign of terror, in subjecting mortals to his will and viewing them all as beneath him, because Astarion's cruel streak would get all the power to fuel every whim it draws up. That kind of dynamic, on a romantic plane especially, is SCARY. If he fails to persuade him but still refuses to help, Astarion leaves him: "I hope you die screaming."

But say Tally DID let him become Ascendant. Whoever the man he fell in love with before ascending is dead. Astarion is a wholly different person with that much power. And he wants to make you his spawn. I can't see Tally willingly becoming a vampire, and I DEFINITELY can't see him becoming a vampire without free will. His whole deal with leaving the Thalmor is getting his autonomy back and being able to make his own decisions. So they leave each other.

I see Tally/Astarion ending in abject tragedy either way. An entertaining story, definitely, but one that brings out the worst in both parties until its inevitable spiral, if it even takes off the ground.

Hence, why Wyll is with Astarion in my plans. He'd bring out the good in Astarion, Astarion would crack the self-sacrificing shell Wyll has. They'd compensate for each other's flaws and compliment each other's strengths. I could write an entire essay about their potential dynamic, not to mention all the flirty lines between them in-game.

Would Tally and Astarion be friends? Absolutely. They share gossip and snark around the campfire. Would Tally help Astarion absolutely gut Cazador? Would Astarion offer to carve out Tally's dad's throat? Definitely. The two are inseparable, and would kill anyone who dared raise a finger against the other. They'd mull over their shared plights of terrible overlords and being used and abused. They'd push each other's buttons and be petty together until it was time to buckle down and win a fight, then celebrate after. But a romance would require so much compromise on one side or the other that I think they both risk falling to pieces over it. There's much more room for differences in lifestyle if you're not planning to spend your life with someone and pour the whole of your heart out to them.

Now, the crux of the question: Gale/Taliesin.

The way Gale shows love is in unwavering devotion. However, he never expects it in return; he's prepared to make his case many times over when he first asks you for an artifact, and half-expects you to throw him away when he reveals the bomb in his chest.

Taliesin is willing to follow his rescuer to the ends of Nirn if you save him. Even into dwemer ruins that terrify him, even if you (to his knowledge) go as mad as Septimus when you read the Elder Scroll, he's prepared to look out for you. Even when it's your destiny to fight the end of the world and be surrounded by death as you do it, with a high probability that he'd be a casualty.

Gale's fatal flaw is his hubris. Tally would have no problems telling him "no" when the Crown came into play, or any other similar power for that matter.

If you talk to Taliesin about his past, he mentions that at one point, his father made him resent many aspects of himself, "even [his] own body."

Gale is willing to marry a MIND FLAYER if they're the person he's come to love. Completely seriously! He loves them! He doesn't even flinch, he even pays them mind flayer-specific compliments in the epilogue and means it with his whole heart!

Would Tally be willing to hang out with the walking apocalypse? Would he be able to talk down detonating the orb, and beg Gale to choose him over the Absolute's demise? Would he be able to tell Gale that going for the Crown of Karsus is a bad idea? Would he be willing to put his enchanting skills to use to buy Gale a few more days of life? Would he like Gale for the man he is over the magic he commands?

Would Gale be able to commit himself to Tally, regardless of how different Altmer are from Eladrin? Would he appreciate every part of Tally, no matter how he differs from conventional Altmer standards? Would he be willing to stand between Tally and his dad, and do it without shattering the rest of Tally's family (as murder threats would)? Would he appreciate Tally for the mer he is, the mer he's TRYING to be, as Tally leaves the Thalmor behind?

They both share a taste in books, both educational and spicy. They both like cooking, and Gale would be willing to cook up vegetarian meals in a snap. They both have a curiosity for culture and knowledge they have yet to encounter. They both love cats and a good bottle of wine.

The clone spell would let Gale match Tally's lifespan.

Tally would love and pay perfect respects to Tara (as everyone SHOULD).

Misty Step could be a solution to crossing bodies of water, and Ice Spike could be an upgrade to Ray of Frost.

Imagine, after several tendays of roughing it, a perfect illusion of a fancy date on a warm shoreline under the stars.

Imagine the two of them reading together by a warm hearth while it pours outside, wearing silk robes and sipping Alto Wine.

I think they'd bring out the best in each other, they'd enjoy each other's company and each other's idea of relaxation, and they'd share enough interests that they'd be happy to trade back and forth.

Also I think Gale's mother would absolutely love him. She HAS to meet him. And spoil him. He'd join her and Tara for tea and gossip, I guarantee it.