#speaking of fuck him. the hate sex would be blood filled and insane

[heelhausen]

aew fight forever is making Crash tag with Matt Jackson. The balls on this fucking game

[kckt88]

Let It Be Me I.

Summary:

Aemond and Y.N have been best friends for years, and as they approach 30 years old, Y.N decides that she wants to be a mother, so Aemond volunteers his services.

Warning(s): Language, Angst, Mentions of Past Cheating, Alternating POV, Masturbation, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, Misunderstandings, Alys.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N (PAST AEMOND X ALYS)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5383.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

"Y.N, I understand your desire to become a mother, but using a stranger as a sperm donor-it just doesn't sit right with me," Aemond said, his voice laced with concern. "Why not consider asking a friend instead? Someone you know and trust?"

Y.N furrowed her brow, considering Aemond's suggestion. "You know, I did speak to Aegon yesterday" she admitted quietly. "He offered to help."

Aemond's heart sank at the mention of his older brother. While Aegon was undoubtedly kind-hearted, the thought of Y.N having a child with him filled Aemond with a sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't right.

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "Y.N, please-don't go to Aegon. Don't go to anyone else. I-I'll do it."

Y.N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze locking with Aemond's. "What do you mean?"

Aemond took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I mean-I'll be the father; we are best friends, and we know each other, and I’ll always be around so you’d have support”.

Y.N's breath caught in her throat, her heart thundering in her chest. She had never imagined Aemond would make such a bold offer. Yet, as she looked into his eye, she saw the sincerity and love reflected there.

Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she reached out to grasp Aemond's hand. "Aemond, are you sure? This is a huge decision."

Aemond nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I've never been surer of anything in my life”.

“I-I guess we could try it, at least this way the baby would have their father around” replied Y.N smiling.

“So, when do you want to do this?” asked Aemond.

“Next week-it’s supposed to be my most fertile week” replied Y.N.

“Ok-is there anything I need to do to make sure everything goes smoothly?”

“I think it would be a good idea for both of us to abstain from sex with other people, until I manage to get pregnant-“

“-Not exactly an issue for me, I haven’t been with anyone since Alys-” muttered Aemond.

“Me either, I’ve not been with anyone since Jace” uttered Y.N.

Aemond grimaced at the mention of his nephew’s name, if he didn’t hate Jace before he certainly did when he started dating Y.N.

It drove Aemond insane having to listen to that bastard fucking Y.N, he spent many nights wishing it was him instead of Jace.

Not even the woman he brought back and fucked into the mattress could sway his mind away from Y.N, they’d met at university and became friends after an unfortunate incident which led Y.N tripping over and accidently throwing coffee all over him.

He normally would have raged at the stupidity of it all, but the moment he finished wiping himself off and saw those blue eyes he was done for.

Her sweet soft voice apologising to him profusely, but he wasn’t listening he just couldn’t stop staring at the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Looking back, he should have obeyed his first instinct and asked her out on a date, but he feared that she would reject him, as most women usually did due to the huge scar marring his face, so he settled for friendship instead and never thought to move beyond that boundary even though he wanted to, as the years went by and their friendship grew, he now feared that he would lose Y.N as a friend if he ever dared to reveal his feelings, so he kept them hidden.

He'd rather have Y.N as a friend than not have her at all.

They moved in together after university, she became part of his family, and it was like she’d always been there. His mother loved her, his father never really paid much attention to anyone or anything unless it was about his firstborn child, his darling Rhaenyra who could do no wrong, Aegon the man whore of course tried it on with her, but she quickly rebuffed him, which made Aemond love her even more, Helaena took to her immediately which was nice as it was hard for his sweet sister to make friends, and Daeron liked her too.

Everything was perfect, except it wasn’t because he wanted her, and he was too afraid to tell her.

Even getting involved with other women was an issue as he would always end up comparing them to Y.N and they would never last long, until Alys.

She was older than him, and Aemond liked that. At first things were great between them, he fell in love with her, and he felt for the first time that he could move on from Y.N but the mask slipped, and Alys began to show her true colours. Aemond would like to say he got out of that shit as soon as it started but he didn’t, he was a fool blinded by love and his cock and it wasn’t until his sister and Y.N joined forces to make him see sense, that he was finally able to escape the praying mantis that was Alys.

As always Y.N was there helping him through it, supporting him and providing words of comfort until she brought that twat of his nephew home. It turned out that whilst he was with Alys, Y.N had started something up with Jace.

Dalton, Jason and Cregan were bad enough but Jace, gods above it rankled Aemond to no end to have to see that bastard sauntering around his apartment.

More than once he found his hands drifting towards the knives, just one slip that’s all it would take. But then he’d most likely get done for murder and it wasn’t worth the hassle.

So, Aemond had to resign himself to misery every time Y.N was with Jace, but as always it didn’t last long and it pleased Aemond no end when Jace was given the boot.

Like him, Y.N could never find anyone to settle down with and she eventually gave up.

But there was a sadness in Y.N, and Aemond knew she wanted so desperately to be married and have a family as she didn’t have anything to do with her own and as much as Aemond would fold to the ground quicker than a deck of cards if he ever thought he could get away with asking her to marry him, agreeing to father her child was the next best thing.

And that’s how Aemond found himself a week after he’d made his offer, masturbating in the bathroom.

He was no stranger to self-pleasure, he’d fucked his fist many times to the thought of Y.N, but doing it like this felt weird, he would never admit it, but it did take longer than usual to rouse himself, perhaps it was because it wasn’t something that occurred naturally, Normally he’d wake up with his cock hard and throbbing other times it would happen if he saw Y.N in her short p.js or those damn lycra leggings she was fond of wearing whenever she worked out.

One time her nearly blew his load when he saw her emerge from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, the water droplets still clinging to her-

“SHIT” moaned Aemond, as the need for release quickly shot across his abdomen.

Where was it? that damn pot thingy she gave him. He had to put his seed in there, and then he would hand it to her, and she would disappear off to her bedroom and put his seed inside herself-

“FUUUCCCCKK” roared Aemond only just managing to position the pot to catch his seed in time.

It seemed to go on forever, the jolt of pleasure running through him as he cock pulsed and released endless ropes of seed.

After he washed his hands and cleaned himself up, Aemond took hold of the pot and left the bathroom, Y.N was sitting on the sofa with her earphones in.

“Thank the fuck christ for that” muttered Aemond, his cheeks tinged pink at the thought of Y.N listening to him masturbate, although the thought did make his cock stir in his sweatpants.

“Aemond-is everything ok?” asked Y.N as she pulled out her earphones.

“It’s fine-I guess I should give you this” replied Aemond as he handed her the pot.

“Yes-thank you. I-I’ll be back in a moment,” said Y.N as she quickly disappeared into her bedroom.

Not knowing exactly what to do with himself, Aemond sat on the sofa and thumbed through one of the magazines on the coffee table.

“Tips for women: how to bag your secret crush-what a crock of shit” Aemond as he threw the magazine in the bin.

A few minutes later Y.N emerged from her bedroom, carrying the empty pot in her hand, the knowledge that his seed was now inside her made his cock respond in earnest.

Fuck-he needed to get to his bedroom and fast.

“Is everything ok?” asked Y.N a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“F-fine, I just need to go to my room. I forgot my phone. Waiting for a work call” exclaimed Aemond as he darted out the room.

The irritated voice of Y.N carrying through the flat when she saw the magazine in the bin.

“Hey-I was reading that”.

As the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months, Y.N and Aemond embarked on the process of conceiving a child with optimism and excitement.

However, as time passed without any signs of success, their initial enthusiasm gave way to frustration and disappointment. Month after month, they meticulously tracked Y.N's cycle, timed their efforts with precision, and yet, each negative pregnancy test felt like a crushing blow.

One evening, as they sat together in the dim glow of their apartment, the weight of their unspoken fears hung heavy in the air. Y.N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she voiced the thoughts that had been haunting her for weeks.

"Aemond, what if there's something wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

Aemond's heart clenched at the pain in Y.N's voice, his own fears mirroring hers. "Y.N, don't say that" he replied, his voice laced with emotion. "There's nothing wrong with you. We just-haven't been lucky yet, that's all."

But Y.N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that gnawed at her heart. She couldn't help but wonder if her body was somehow failing her if she was somehow unworthy of the gift of motherhood.

"I know we've only been trying for a few months, but-what if it never happens?" Y.N's voice trembled with the weight of her insecurities.

Aemond reached out, gently cupping Y.N's face in his hands, his eyes filled with reassurance. "Y.N, listen to me. We're in this together, okay? Whatever happens, we'll face it together. And if we need to seek help, then we'll do it. But we're not giving up, not now, not ever."

"Guys, I don't know what to do," Aemond admitted, his voice tinged with concern. "Y.N and I have been trying for months, and-nothing. Not even a hint of a positive test."

Aegon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, maybe you're going about it the wrong way," he teased, earning a sceptical glance from Daeron. "Perhaps you should try it the natural way."

Aemond's cheeks flushed crimson at Aegon's suggestion, his embarrassment evident. "Aegon, come on. This is serious," he protested, though a small part of him couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's audacity.

Daeron rolled his eyes, shaking his head in amusement. "Aegon, sometimes I wonder if you have any sense of decorum," he remarked dryly, though a smirk played at the corners of his lips.

“Or maybe little brother’s just insecure that he’s shooting blanks, what are you nearly thirty and not one accident-with anyone” laughed Aegon as he took a swig of beer.

“Just because you’ve got fuck knows how many kids to god knows how many different women, doesn’t mean were all like that, I’ve never fucked a women raw, I always used protection” replied Aemond.

“Your not still pissed I offered her my load are you-I was only joking, well kind of-“

“-Aegon seriously. I hate it when you talk like that. Grow up” snapped Daeron.

“Ooo hark at Mr prim and proper over here, anyone would think you had a thing for Y.N”.

“No-as lovely as Y.N is she’s not my type,” said Daeron.

“What is your type?” asked Aegon.

“Men-“ said Aemond firmly.

“-I thought you liked women?” quipped Aegon.

“I’m pansexual-I’m attracted to whoever regardless of their gender or how they identify”.

“Isn’t that what Helaena is?” mused Aegon.

“No, she’s asexual, which means no sexual attraction to others” said Aemond.

“So, hang on, if your attracted to anyone, then why isn’t Y.N your type?” asked Aegon.

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t think of her in that way-“ retorted Daeron.

“Unlike captain slow over here, dude is down so bad he literally offers to father his best friends child” snarked Aegon.

“You should really tell her Aemond-“

“-What? And ruin the friendship, I can’t do that. I can’t lose what we have” replied Aemond downing his glass of whisky and grimacing at the afterburn.

“Have you not considered that she might feel the way?” asked Daeron.

“What? No” muttered Aemond.

“Look listen to your big brother-go home and suggest that you try making the baby the natural way, all this methodically planned shit is clearly causing stress, which isn’t good for either of you-so maybe fucking each other and having an orgasm or two may help”.

“What if she says no” mused Aemond.

“If she does then we’ve always got a spare room for you-“

“-Not fucking funny” snapped Aemond.

“Just make the suggestion-let her make the choice,” said Daeron.

“Ok-but if she says no then expect another roommate” muttered Aemond.

Aemond took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have with Y.N. As they sat together in the quiet comfort of their apartment, the weight of their unspoken desires hung heavy in the air.

"Y.N, I've been thinking," Aemond began, his voice tentative yet resolute. "Maybe-maybe we've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of focusing so much on timing and tracking, we should-try things more naturally."

Y.N's brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes searching Aemond's face for clarity. "What do you mean, Aemond?"

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the swirling emotions that churned within him. "I mean-maybe we could try having sex with each other”

Y.N's breath caught in her throat at Aemond's words, her heart pounding with a mixture of longing and apprehension. She had spent countless nights secretly yearning for Aemond, yet the fear of ruining their friendship had kept her from confessing her true feelings.

"Aemond, I-I don't want to risk our friendship," Y.N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if-what if this changes everything between us?"

Aemond reached out, gently taking Y.N's hand in his own, his gaze soft yet determined. "Y.N, our friendship means everything to me and if you decide that we should just continue trying as we have been then I will respect your decision”.

Y.N sat quiet for a moment as she thought about what Aemond had suggested, clearly what they were already doing wasn’t working but maybe this could.

Gods she had been in love with Aemond ever since she’d tripped and thrown her coffee all over him. Features so sharp it looked like he’d been carved by the gods themselves, his singular eye was a shade of blue that she had never seen before, he was so beautiful. Initially his face had been twisted in anger and annoyance but then it softened and relaxed.

Admittedly she was left feeling disappointed that he’d not asked her out, and her shyness prevented her from asking him, so she settled for the friendship that blossomed between them.

Having no family of her own, she became part of his and it was truly wonderful. His mother Alicent, wow her curly auburn hair was incredible was quite nice, his father was disinterested and looked like he could play an extra from night of the living dead, his older brother Aegon had more kids than she had hot dinners was a bit of a cheeky chancer but nothing she couldn’t handle, his sister Helaena was sweet and whimsical in a way that warmed her heart and Daeron he was sensible and funny.

But she was a coward, too scared to tell Aemond how she felt, the possibility of ruining their friendship was heartbreaking but it was also the potential loss of his family that added to her reluctance.

Being alone for along time, you think you’re ok with it, just going through the motions but once you experience that closeness you truly realise how alone you are, and it saddened her deeply.

Aemond didn’t seem interested in her in that way, judging from all the women he fucked, at first, she tried to ignore it but then she thought why not take a leaf out of his book and get involved with someone.

Admittedly though giving her virginity to Dalton Greyjoy was a mistake, he barely lasted and to get through it she had to fantasise about Aemond, then there was Jason Lannister, he was a bit better but still a selfish prick.

Cregan Stark was a very giving lover, he never left her wanting, the only problem was that he wasn’t Aemond, and inevitably the relationship didn’t last long.

Then Aemond met her. Alys fucking Rivers. You’d think older would mean more mature, but no she was about as mature as the cheese you would find in the fridge, the blue veiny kind that smelled like feet.

It broke her heart to see Aemond so happy, but there wasn’t much she could do, and she would often escape their apartment whenever Alys was around and cry on Helaena’s shoulder.

Aemond’s sweet sister knew of her feelings for Aemond and often provided a welcome distraction from the disgusting display Alys would often make as she draped herself all over Aemond every chance she got, and their friendship wasn’t as close when she was around.

But then things started to go wrong, and Alys revealed her true self. The lies, the emotional and verbal abuse, even the cheating. But Aemond kept going back to her, time and time again, until one day she and Helaena took it upon themselves to sort that bitch out.

Helaena was the one who talked sense into Aemond and Y.N took great pleasure in giving her a good slap before throwing her out of the apartment.

Things seemed back to normal after that, until Y.N had to tell Aemond that she was involved with his nephew Jace.

If Aemond could have gritted his teeth any harder then he would have broken his jaw, the thing with Jace had initially started when Aemond was dating Alys, and Y.N understood that there maybe issues given that it was Jace’s younger brother Luke who cost Aemond his eye when they were children, but she was lonely and just needed a distraction from her feelings.

Although his posture and hair cut were atrocious, Jace was nice enough, but once again she kept comparing him to Aemond and then began to feel weird about Jace being his nephew and eventually it came to an end.

After one dating disaster after another, Y.N resigned herself to being single forever. Which saddened her deeply, she wanted to get married she wanted children. So, one day she decided why not be a mother, she had a steady job and enough savings, that maybe she could do it on her own. People used sperm banks all the time, so why couldn’t she.

Helaena was supportive and suggested asking someone she knew first, admittedly asking Aegon was a mistake, but it was a request made out of the fact that not only did she know Aegon but due to all his children, she knew his soldiers were marching, it was just the idea of tying herself to him as so many others had done which changed her mind.

So, sperm bank it was, at least they did the necessary checks, but in the end, she had no need for it as Aemond offered to father her child.

As surprising as it was, she was not opposed to the idea. Aemond was after all her best friend and she trusted him beyond all measure, so she accepted his offer.

Explaining the mechanics of the offer to Aemond had been mortifying, especially when she presented him with the pot, he would put his seed in.

Listening to him masturbate in the bathroom though had been a treat, his groans of frustration filtered through the apartment and if Y.N was brave she would have offered to help him, but she was a coward, so she put her earphones in, not like that helped much as the noise he made when he came, made her stomach flutter and her core clench.

When he handed her the pot, his cheeks were tinged pink and fuck he was still hard, she could see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants.

She excused herself, went to her room and did what she needed to do, when she emerged Aemond was hovering in the living room, his eye blown wide and his cheeks red.

Fuck his cock was straining hard against the fabric of his sweatpants, Y.N couldn’t help but move closer to him, but when she asked if he was ok, he seem startled and raced off to his room, going on about his mobile.

“Ok-now where is my-“ muttered Y.N as she looked for her magazine, only to see it in the bin. That fucker had thrown it away.

Over the next few weeks, they continued with their arrangement, but it wasn’t working. No pregnancy ever materialized, and she began to feel like there was something wrong with her, but Aemond supported her and promised that they weren’t going to give up.

She never imagined not giving up would result in him suggesting they try to conceive a child by having sex, but here they were in the living room with the weight of his suggestion hanging in the air.

Of course, it did make sense, but she was worried about it changing their friendship, and not only that she didn’t want to lose his family that taken her in as one of their own.

He said she could turn him down, that it was her choice to make, and it made her heart flutter. She could say no, she probably should say no but the only words that left her mouth was acceptance.

“Ok-let’s have sex” said Y.N.

Aemond had thought all his Christmases had come at once when Y.N took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Aemond as he closed the door.

“I’m sure-now fuck a baby into me” replied Y.N as she pressed forward and claimed his lips with her own.

The kiss was filthy, it was depraved, and it was fucking amazing. Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his tips as Y.N’s tongue slid against his.

This was everything he’d ever wanted, and fuck she tasted divine.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slotted himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond pressed himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his sweatpants.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he began to grind his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, sweet girl you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to her bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y.N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tasted delicious here too. Obviously, this wasn’t required to make a baby but he couldn’t help himself, he needed her wet and wanting.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on women, something his past partners never complained about, but nothing compared to Y.N she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y.N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y.N to her peak.

Y.N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y.N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen,

Y.N looks at Aemond and her eyes widen, he was bigger than anyone she’d been with previously significantly so, his cock hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“Don’t worry little bird-it will fit” whispered Aemond as he presses his lips against Y.N’s in a heated kiss.

Aemond takes himself in his hand and guides his hard cock to Y.N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give her a moment to adapt to his size.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y.N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“Harder-faster, please daddy I can take it” exclaimed Y.N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and slams into Y.N hard, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.

The pace he sets is brutal, his hips slapping against hers, all the pent up frustration of wanting her pouring out of him.

Y.N moans desperately, as she moves her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y.N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock even deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes you feel so good”

Y.N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her, the headboard banging against the wall from the force of his movements.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y.N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y.N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Y.N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he slams into Y.N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y.N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y.N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y.N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise.

“Can’t be wasting it now can we” whispered Aemond as he laid down on the bed and pulled Y.N to him.

“I guess not” replied Y.N her eyes closed as she smiled slightly.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y.N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y.N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fill you with my seed many times this night-”.

Over the next few weeks, Aemond and Y.N spent many nights entwined in bed, sometimes they didn’t even make it to the bedroom.

Aemond had practically taken her on every available surface in their apartment, he was unrestrained and ravenous.

Never had Y.N experienced such pleasure, that it often left her unable to walk straight, something that Aegon liked to tease her about quite frequently.

But a swift dig to the ribs would often sort him out and wipe that cheeky grin off his face.

Whilst all the sex with Aemond was enjoyable there was a purpose behind it and Y.N was on pins the day her period was due, but it never came, nor did it arrive the next day or the day after that.

Not wanting to get her hopes up too much, Y.N made an appointment with the Drs and anxiously waited for the news.

Later that day Y.N's heart raced with anticipation as she stepped through the door of their apartment.

"Aemond!" she called out, her voice trembling with excitement as she searched for him. "Aemond, where are you?"

Aemond emerged from the living room, a curious expression on his face as he caught sight of Y.N's radiant smile. "Y.N, what's going on?”

Y.N's smile widened as she held out a piece of paper, her hands trembling with excitement. "Aemond, I went to the doctor today- and guess what? We're going to have a baby!"

Aemond's eye widened in disbelief as he took in Y.N's words, the reality of her announcement sinking in. "Y.N, are you serious?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe and wonder.

Y.N nodded eagerly, tears of joy shimmering in her eyes. "Yes, Aemond, I'm serious! The doctor confirmed it-we're going to be parents!"

Aemond's heart swelled with overwhelming emotion as he pulled Y.N into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. "Y.N, this is incredible," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe it-we're going to have a baby."

But then out of the corner of her eye, Y.N noticed a figure sitting on their couch.

"Alys-what are you doing here?" Y.N managed to choke out, her voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

Alys looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and discomfort. "I... I came to see Aemond," she replied, her voice faltering slightly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

“I live here” retorted Y.N her voice dripping with venom.

"Did I hear you say that you were pregnant?” asked Alys.

“Yes, you did, Aemond is the father-“ said Y.N through gritted teeth.

“I-I didn't know you and Aemond were-together," Alys finally stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y.N felt a lump form in her throat as Aemond's response echoed in her ears. "We're not together," he said simply, his words like a dagger to her heart.

The realization hit Y.N like a tidal wave, washing over her with a force she could scarcely comprehend. In that moment, the truth of their relationship – or lack thereof – crashed down upon her, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she struggled to make sense of it all. The joy of her pregnancy announcement now tainted by the crushing weight of rejection.

Aemond's heart clenched with anguish as he watched the devastation wash over Y.N's face. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the hurt he had unwittingly caused.

"Y.N, I'm so sorry," Aemond began, his voice laced with regret as he reached out to her. But before he could utter another word, Y.N pulled away, her eyes brimming with tears as she fled to her bedroom, the sound of her sobs echoing in the empty space.

TBC

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Day 23 | Hate sex - Dottore

Kinktober Masterlist

Gender neutral reader (genitals not specified)

18+, hate sex, dubcon, on the floor, non-specified hole fucking, brief mention of Collei

Once upon a time you would feel warm around Dottore because of butterflies. Now you'd feel warm because your blood boils.

The time you spent admiring him and thinking about how attractive he was now revolted you. Ever since you realized the nature of his experiments.

Before you met him, you had met someone named Collei. A wonderful girl you loved speaking with. You'd heard bits and pieces about how she had been cruelly treated by a doctor meant to help her. Only to later learn that it was the same doctor you bit your lip around.

You send in your resignation papers. Maybe you could put the skills you learned to use elsewhere, but for now, you didn't want to be anywhere near him. It was a surprise and a rage inducing moment when the Harbinger himself confronts you about it. He asks why. Though it was clear what he actually meant. That he wasn't asking why you were leaving, at least not entirely. He clearly saw your distain. He was asking why your demeanor had changed.

"None of your business," you try to brush it off.

You turn to leave, but he caught your wrist. He demands you tell him and your eyes flare with rage. You try in vain to wretch your wrist away. Barking at him to let you go. Why? You bare your teeth at him and say that you hated him and just wanted to get away.

Why? He repeats the question. His grip tightens.

You let everything out. Barking everything you thought about him. How he was a monster with no morals who hurts everyone. Traumatizes people you care about. How you wanted to wring his neck and smash his face in, and fill him full of rocks and throw him into the river where no one would ever find him.

He watches you. He doesn't let you go. You scream at him, hurling insults with your fists clenched.

His expression goes dark. He twists your wrist and you throw a punch at him. He suddenly throws you against the wall. You thrash. Kicking, punching, and grabbing everywhere you could. Making sounds like a rabid animal. You must have looked insane.

Your feet go flat against the wall and you push off to tackle him down to the ground. The shock of the fall stunned him. Enough for him to let you go and for you to claw your fingers around his neck. You put your legs on either side of him to pin him to the ground. You squeeze and slam his head into the ground over and over. He recovers and clasps his hands on yours. You kept an iron grip on his neck, but he stopped you from forcing his head into the ground.

Infuriated, you lift your body, as high as you could while wringing his neck, and slam down onto him. Your mind unable to handle rational thought in your emotions and you did whatever came to you.

You didn’t realize you were directly over his crotch.

He hisses. He manages to shift your weight and flip you over, with him on top now. His hand reaches down to undo his belt. Another hand lands on your hip. You try to push away, slide up on the floor while he still held onto you. His grip and the way you moved resulted in your clothes being pulled off. Almost like it was on purpose on both ends.

You thrust your hips up into his. Whether to hurt him or push him off, you weren’t sure.

Your mind was all too consumed by rage to fully realize what you were doing, but soon you clung on tight to each other. He makes deep thrusts into you. You dig your nails into him and bite his neck while moving your hips like a feral animal.

You repeat over and over again how much you hate and despise him. And if he ever stops you'll hit him even harder.

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

King of Your Heart

Chapter 10 "I don't know what's wrong with me"

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, princess is out for blood, self-hate (both characters), drug usage (coke), drinking, benny's house party, princess and fish love to argue, allusion to smut, angst, oh yeah and a lot of angst, frankie gets back at princess, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt

an: made a halloween playlist for Benny's upcoming halloween bash

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

Frankie scares you just as much as you scare him.

The way he wasn't even mad about you having revenge sex with Daniel. It scared you because any other guy would freak the fuck out and say you're insane then never speak to you ever again. He was all too forgiving.

"Frankie, I love you but we need to be just friends..." You trailed off when Frankie started caressing your hips and leaned into you to turn off the water.

"Don't lie to yourself. We can't be just friends." Frankie spits your words of the past right back in your face. Frankie helps you out of the shower and dries you off before wrapping you up in the towel. There he goes again. Frankie is being too kind and too selfless with you. It's not fair to him. His heart is too big for you.

Frankie sets you in front of the bed after he dresses himself and grabs the clothes he picked out for you earlier. Frankie has the towel drop from your body, standing bare in front of him. He takes a breath to look at your body, he just thought you were so beautiful.

Frankie lowers himself on his knees and taps your thigh, and you raise one leg at a time, stepping into your panties. Water still dripping from your hair. He pulls the fabric over your thighs and rests them on your hips. His fingers hook in the waistband pulling them higher so they would taut over the cheeks of your ass. Just the way you like it.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" You look down at him through your lashes and he looks up at you. His heart aches when his eyes meet yours.

"Princess, I don't care what happens to us but you're mine forever." Frankie licks his lips before placing a kiss right above your belly button. If you can be toxic and crazy then Frankie can be too. He needs to claim you no matter what happens. He deserves to be selfish. He has served his country and done unspeakable acts so he deserves to self-indulge.

Your body shivered as his whiskered lips kissed your body. You are his. His best friend. His strange addiction. His princess. Frankie will always have some claim over you. You're snapped out of your thoughts when he stands back up and helps you into a hoodie. His hoodie that you refused to put in the 'No more Frankie' box.

"I'll be back in the morning to get you so we can get your car from Benny's. Remember we have the test drive with the Jeep in the morning." Frankie lays you down in bed and seals his words with a kiss on your forehead then your nose then your lips. You don't kiss him back, just drained of love and filled up with guilt and hatred. If he wasn't here then how would you have gotten home or even remember about the test drive that has been on the calendar for months?

"You're not staying?" You watch him walk to the door. Frankie sighs and turns back around.

"I'll be back in the morning." Frankie had to go back to the party and make sure you didn't cause a bigger scene as he dragged you out of there. When Frankie arrives back at Benny's house, the clock flicks to 1:00 AM when he walks in. It was like he never left, people just talking drinking, and having a good time. That washes out when he goes to the backyard and Vanessa crying to Charlotte. 

She is letting the woman crying into her shoulder and then stop when Frankie walks up to them. 

"Can I talk with you?" He softly asks, taking in her hand. No spark. Nothing to feel. Vanessa nods and walks with Frankie to sit down in the abandoned pool chairs. 

"She's my best friend...I had to get her home. She had too much to drink-"

"Frankie, I know everything about you and her. Are you done with her? So we can have our fun?" Vanessa crawls to Frankie and kneels in front of him.

He could feel like his mouth dry. Seeing a woman kneel to him and not him having to kneel before a woman. Frankie isn't going to deny that is turning him on.

Princess would have never done that. She's too self-assured to completely submit to Frankie. But that's what he loved about you the most. Just different from everyone else.

If you could sleep with someone else then so could Frankie. It would level the playing field. 

"Take me home, baby." Vanessa slides her hands up Frankie's thick thighs and lightly cups his growing bulge. Frankie smiles and he pulls Vanessa out of the party, taking stops to kiss up against whatever solid surface and to his truck. 

It wasn't the best sex. It wasn't enough for him. No primal energy oozing from the woman. Just trying to get off her as quickly as possible so he could get to his orgasm and leave. He didn't care enough to make things right with the woman. Vanessa didn't even care that you and Fish had a past. Not exactly a past for history in the making. 

You wake up and look at the clock noon, your eyes shoot wide open and you scramble to throw off the duvet and run to the bathroom and get ready for the test drive. When you finish pulling on the spandex shorts you open your phone. No texts from Frankie, just one from the garage saying you were late for your test drive. 

It was supposed to be at 10 and Frankie never came to get you for it and to get your car back from Benny's. Did he stand you up? 

Maybe he was running late because he had a tough start this morning. Tough start?

He woke up with his cock down Vanessa's throat, coming hard thinking it was you in his bed. The blowjob led Frankie to push the woman's head down into the mattress as he pounded her cunt into a throbbing slick mess.

An early morning delight turned into a nooner. Vanessa was a beautiful woman, with long dark hair with red hues that were always in perfect curls, with fair skin complimenting her stark features. Her beauty could only match yours to an extent. No real personality other than being in a sorority in college and getting a boob job at 21 thinking she would look better. 

Frankie knew he was supposed to go check in on you but what man would pass up sex mid-day? 

You waited around your apartment self self-medicating your hangover, you started to fume by 3 o'clock when still word from Frankie. You ordered an Uber to Benny's, it seemed like you were returning to the scene of the crime. There was your car sitting in the driveway and no Frankie. You quietly thanked the driver and stepped up the driveway to the front door. You opened it to see Benny and Mari cleaning up the last of the mess and Pope snoozing away on the couch. 

"Well, there's the damsel in distress." Ben laughs then winces and holds his head. You rolled your eyes and still looking around for Frankie who fled the scene last night. 

"Very funny, pretty boy. Has anyone heard from Catfish?" You hugged yourself, insecurity flooded your body, unsure what everyone knows, do you know that you broke his heart? and that you claimed by him? that you have to stitch it up all because you wanted to make him jealous since you missed him so much? To get him back?

"Nope. He's been M.I.A since he left the party with Vanessa practically sucking his tongue." Pope mumbles from the couch. So nonchalant, like it was a normal thing for Frankie to take someone home. You blinked rapidly and could taste bile coming up from your stomach. You rush to the kitchen sink and let out all the built apprehension down the drain. 

Mari comes to your side, holding back your hair, rubbing your back, and getting you some mouthwash. 

"Sorry, had too much vodka last night," You laugh to lighten the mood. Benny chuckles and thinks nothing of it. Pope is out cold again. Mari could see the hurt and guilt in your eyes.

You've been detected, you say goodbye and start your car. You were driving down the street when you saw the black Chevy Silverado turn on the street. You lean closer to the steering wheel and see Frankie wearing his aviators along with that stupid smirk and Vanessa with sex written across her face. You floored the accelerator past them, and the sport motor of your car revs as you speed past them. 

You snap out of the red haze and realize that you are Frankie's but he is not yours. No right to be outraged. He got you back. Fair and square. If he wants to play that game then he should've chosen a weaker opponent. 

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

[junisfics]

Hate Fucking ft Eren Jaeger (Day XV)

Focus: Hate Fucking

Warnings: Smut / Nsfw 18 + (Rough Sex), Brief Violence (Blood, Asphyxiation)

Word Count: 2k

You could kill him.

That impulsive, hate ridden, destructive maniac. You want to rip his throat out with your teeth.

Your jaw is clenched tightly, eyebrows furrowed together in anger, as you sit beside Sasha and across from Connie. They chatter nonsense as you eye him down from across the room.

Just hours ago he had taken out all his pent up anger by mercilessly insulting you after your defeat during training. Although wasn't for the reason one would think.

He had you pinned to grass bare dirt, knee pressing into your right arm and opposite foot pressing painfully into your right wrist. The tendons in your forearms rapping up against the sole of his shoe like the strings on a guitar.

His knife held against your throat, every swallow you take causing it to bob gently. His other hand bracing him up by the ground beside your skull, preventing him from sitting on your upper stomach.

"Get off me." You spit, writhing beneath his unexpectedly heavy body.

You speak with your eyes boring into his own. His brows knit together, beads of sweat trailing down his dirt covered face.

"You couldn't even give it your best for me?! You're going easy?! Piece of shit!" He practically growls, pushing the knife further against your quivering throat to enunciate the expletive.

He hates the way you distract him. Never did it cross his mind that you didn't give him your all, it was only the most convincing excuse he could come up with. He despises you for the way your innocent eyes glint as you look at him, and he hates you more for the uncertain lust that lures behind them as he has you pinned beneath him.

"Eren, I'm not - I didn't - get - you're hurting me,"

Recklessly, he throws the knife aside, causing the blade to slit a shallow cut against the fragile skin of your neck. It stings, assumingly more than a deeper cut would have. His large hand replaces the blade, his sweat poisons the wound and sending harsh waves of prickly pain through your body, he squeezes... hard.

Pathetic croaks slip under his palm and past your lips, blood rushing to your face and a deep buzz filling your ears.

Your limbs flail in response, desperately trying to shake him off.

His nose is scrunched, teeth grit into a snarl, face inches away from yours as he alternates the pressure on your neck.

Hard, bruising, enough to threaten unconscious, but before that can happen his grip goes soft enough to give you a moment of uninterrupted breaths. All the time while looking into your fearful eyes, like he's waiting for the light to go out.

You hated the way your body heated up under his dominance. You can't blame yourself, who wouldn't feel at least a twinge of excitement when pressed that closely up against a guy that attractive.

"Eren - p - please, I can't - I" You're voice is hoarse, tears flooding your vision.

He's tackled off. You sit up quickly, hands go flying to your abused throat, clutching and clawing at it mindlessly as you swallow heavy gulps of air. Sasha's by your side, squatting back on her calves with an arm thrown around your heaving shoulders.

Connie throws violent punches to Eren's face as he presses his skull into the dirt with his other hand.

His face bruised, Connie's fist split open a gash in his cheekbone. His pretty green eyes surrounded by popped blood vessels.

You admire his wounds from your table, completely disregarding your dinner and pushing it to Sasha. You go as far as thinking he's pretty... when his mouth is shut. Such a shame that such a handsome face is attached to a shitty person.

"Connie took care of him, y/n, he won't bother you again." Sasha says through the bread stuffing her mouth.

"He's just... an angry person."

***

You shower off the emulsion of sweat and blood that's covering your skin. Scrubbing so harshly with the tattered rag that red welts leave in its wake. The gash on your throat pulses and stings but your glad it's clean.

The itchy fabric of your shirt clings to your damp skin, the now cold water in your hair drips down your your chest as you squeeze it in your fist to wring it out. Legs guiding you back to your room.

Before you can completely retreat, the door gets pushed open as you attempt to close it.

"Hey -" Your mouth shuts immediately.

Eren enters shamelessly, shutting the door behind him as you back away slowly. Your heart wracks against your chest, breath caught once again in your throat no thanks to him.

He's come to finish you off, he's got you alone and now he's come to pummel you into next year.

His hand grips your jaw to avoid the slit on your throat, pressing your cheeks together so your lips pucker ever so slightly. You reach up to his wrist, reaching for sinewy muscle that strains under his grasp.

His eyes look down to you, a dangerous look passing through them momentarily. His face too close for comfort, his hot breath passing through his grit teeth and fanning over your face.

He walks forward, sending you stumbling back against the closed door.

You feel embarrassingly helpless before him. You pray he can't feel the shaking in your legs.

If he starts getting violent will someone know? Will someone hear? Would there be anyone to stop him this time?

"I fucking hate you." He spits, leaning against you and resting his palm against the wood of the door beside your head, "I think about killing you every fucking day we're stuck in this stupid cottage."

Your stomach turns at his words, but you have no courage to speak out against him. Something inside you tells you to listen to him... to wait.

"You drive me insane"

"Eren -" You speak through puckered lips, one hand holding his wrist and the other pushing against his chest.

Whimpers leave your mouth, desperate cries for him to release you, leave you, apologize, something.

"Fuck - " His voice falters for a moment and his jaw slacks as he glances down to the floor, "Do you know what you do?"

His eyes meet yours, the gears in your head begin to turn. They're softer this time, apologetic.

"I - I don't - please, Eren - I don't know what - "

"Stop begging, fucking stop," He closes his eyes tightly as the hand on the door drops to the field of skin between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes tightly, desperately trying to restrain himself.

"You're so god damn lucky my need for you is stronger then my hate." His face gets too close to quickly, leaning down so your noses are a breath apart, "because I hate you so fucking much."

It's not your stomach that turns within itself this time, it's something else... something lower. All of a sudden his grip is erotic and his body heat is radiating onto yours in all the right places. He's so close, the tension is straining.

"I - I'm - " You're stupid. You can't even think. Your entire body short circuits.

"Let me have you." He begs, voice needy and dropping octaves lower.

He begs.

You mouth drops open as arousal sparks deep inside you. A shudder wracks your body at his words.

"I know you want it. I see it. G - god, fuck, please y/n." Both hands come to hold your face in his hands, "I hate the things you do to me."

His hips stutter forward against your stomach and you can feel him, hard, throbbing in his pants. A whine escapes your lips.

It's pathetic... embarassing... how much you want him. How much you want the man that constantly dances on your last nerve to take you in his strong hands.

"I hate you." Your voice is weak and unconvincing to both him and you.

His mouth takes yours, swallowing your whimpers and flooding you with him. You taste him on your tongue, dull taste of mint toothpaste and herbal tea. You're drunk for it. Hands gripping at the collar of his shirt to pull his toned body flush against you. It's borderline violent, his tongue drinking in your breathy moans and teeth biting at your lips.

You need him. You need this. You need this feeling, this tension, flooded out of your system and gone for good. You want it fucked out of you.

You push against his neck to give you enough space to mumble against his soft lips, "I need you to fuck me, fuck me as hard as you hate me, please."

His cock twitches, jaw dropping at your desperation. A groan choked up in his throat.

You lick at his open mouth and he takes it in his mouth and sucks on it. Never, never in your entire life would you have thought your cunt would flutter around nothing due to someone taking your tongue in their mouth.

He lowers himself into a squat, taking the waistband of your sleeping pants and dragging them down your thighs, biting at the supple skin that's revealed. His calloused hands hold onto your legs as he licks a broad stripe up your inner left leg all the way up to your hip bone.

You let out a breathy moan as he kitten licks at your clit through your panties.

"No, please, I need you - need your cock." You plead and he lets out a curse as he stands.

You kiss him again. Hands grabbing at his torso to get a hold on the waistline of his pants. He follows you, using one hand to press your chest against the door and the other pushing his clothes down his thighs just enough so his aching cock is freed.

Roughly, he grips the backs of your thighs and hoists them around his waist. Cock slipping between your bodies and brushing against your clothed cunt. Pushing you high enough up the door to take his length in his hand, you pull your panties to the side. His tip teases your entrance. You're sheathed onto his length, filthily moaning out as his cock drags across your walls.

"Fucking shit." He groans into your neck, "You're so wet, you're so fucking wet."

It's overwhelming. The flexing of his muscles underneath your grip, his low groans against your skin followed by open mouth kisses. You bite down on your lip, walls fluttering around his throbbing cock in reaction to his words.

"Oh my god, y/n. Did you just cum?"

You did.

You're cunt gripping his dick like a vice. You came just as he buried himself to the hilt. His tip kissing your cervix gently.

"Give me another." You beg, fisting his shirt tighter in your fist.

You're fucked into the door, shirt riding up as you're dragged up and down the both literal and figurative wood.

"You - Eren - you're so big." Your grip on his shoulders is bruising, arms wrap around his neck and forehead falling against his, mouth open in heavy pants.

"You're so pretty like this. God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this. How long I've been conflicted by you. I've fucked my hand to your pretty face every fucking night wishing it was your cunt."

You can't believe it. This whole time he hasn't hated you for anything you've done... he's hated you because he was hating the way you made him feel. You're cunt throbs around him at the mere thought.

"And now... fuck - fuck - just like that - now I have you... and my cock is inside you and not my fucking fist."

You came harder then you ever have before, head slamming back against the door and legs shaking as you suck him in and milk him dry. He slams you down one more time onto his cock and holds you there, throbbing inside you.

[ekaterinatepes]

Forget me Too

Author’s notes: little toxic brain rot Drabble inspired by MGK and Halsey’s song Forget me too.

MINORS DNI

———————————————————————-

Warning: NSFW, hate fucking, unprotected sex, toxic relationship, possessive behavior (Gojo’s), cream pie, implied cheating.

|||

“I left before you woke up, why don’t I ever see you sober?”

|||

Gojo opened his eyes and pawed the bed looking for you. Your side was cold, his eyes shot open, “Y/N?” He called for you getting out of the bed completely naked as he roamed over his apartment looking for you.

You were gone.

“Fuck!” He punched the closest wall driving effectively a hole through the concrete. Gojo was certain he would have a broken hand if his infinity wasn’t protecting him.

You did this every time he got you back and ended up dragging you to his bed.

Things wouldn’t be so complicated if he hadn’t started cheating on you which in exchange made you move out of his apartment and start sleeping around as well. He had no fucking right to demand shit from you but when he saw you last night at that bar. Draped all over some dude’s lap while you kissed him the way you used to kiss Satoru before you left… he couldn’t stand it.

In a few long strides he was behind you, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the confused long haired blonde fucker that had been touching what only belonged to Satoru.

He didn’t pay any mind to your screams as he dragged you out of there; a couple bystanders thought about interfering and helping you but he quickly covered you in his infinity as well making you completely inaccessible to anyone but him. He forced you out of the bar and towards the alley next to it “shut the fuck up!” He groaned before warping you both back to his apartment.

“Fuck you! I hate you!”

“Yeah.. I bet you do, doll” he answered before pulling you towards him, grabbing a handful of your h/c hair in his grasp, holding you in place while he assaulted your lips. His tongue forced its way inside your mouth to find yours. You bit him. Pulling back for a second Satoru chuckled, a drop of blood trailed down the corner of his lips “I’m gonna make you regret that princess” the dark promise was expelled before he dove in again for another kiss. This one much angrier and forceful than the last. Pushing you against the wall, making your spine connect painfully with the concrete; the hand that wasn’t holding you hair moved to your ass. Grabbing it under your skimpy short dress. Groaning his hand changed course and caressed its way to the front of your panties where he found the damp fabric between your tights. “You sure you don’t want this baby? You pussy says otherwise” you leveled him with a glare that only made him laugh.

You jumped holding onto his shoulders so you could wrap your legs around his waist, that positively shut him up. “Shut the fuck up” you spit his own words back at him before you started the next kiss.

Satoru moved you both to his bed where he threw you unceremoniously, rolling up your dress he didn’t even try to remove your panties yanking them to the side with so much force they ripped at the bottom. You gasped and slapped his arm letting him know you didn’t like that. He gave you a grin in return before lowering himself between your legs and start licking your outer labia. Passing his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves he loved so much. The pleasure that invaded your senses made you scream, your back trying to arch off the bed told him he was doing it right. “Stay still princess or I’ll have to tie you up” he warns making you moan softly and spread your legs wider. His tongue delves inside your dripping cunt making you scream for him. Pulling back just enough so he can replace his tongue with two fingers he returns to stimulate your clit with little kitten licks just to edge you enough.

You are a moaning mess by the time he decides he’s had enough himself. Unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants Gojo pulls them down along with his boxers. His heavy cock springs free slapping his stomach. Your mouth dried at the sight, he was so big. Gojo grins following the direction of your eyes.

Cocky bastard, you think rolling your eyes. But that’s the last coherent thought you have for the night. Not long after, he grabs you by the ankles dragging you closer to him, spreading you open for him. The hot tip of his cock dripping cum, he teases you getting his member wet in your juices. “Look at me princess” he demands and you can’t help but do as he asks. The moment your eyes connect he thrusts with all his might until he is fully sheathed within you. With a scream your eyes roll back.

He made you feel so full. He stays still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your walls contracting around him, squeezing his cock inside you as if you never wanted him to leave.

“Fuck…” groans the platinum haired sorcerer before his hips start rocking on their own accord. You felt so good, wrapped tightly around his dick, inviting him to plow your sweet pussy into submission “you are mine…” he growls on your ear, you moan louder “answer me princess… is this little cunt mine?” His movements never falter while he speaks his thumb finds your clit rubbing small circles on it. Your moans are louder “y…yes…” you choke out.

“Yes…what?! Doll?” He punctuates every word with a harsh thrust “yes it’s yours! My pussy belongs to you Satoru” you yell back; waves of pleasure ripple through his body when he hears you confirming his claim over you. Holding your hips tightly he lifts your butt from the bed to thrust at a deeper angle. Your tits jolting with every penetration driving him insane with lust. His mouth wraps around a perky bud sucking hard getting a squeal from you.

Satoru allows himself to lose control with you, fucking you hard and fast, driving his thick cock deeper and faster every time he went back in. The room was filled with his grunts, your screams, the sound of slapping skin and the rattling of the king size bed that was almost rocked off its frame with the brutality of his movements.

You contract deliciously around his cock and he knows you are close “come for me doll” coos on your ear. “Don’t… don’t come inside” you manage to beg him. To which Satoru responds by glaring at you and ramming his cock harder making it kiss the back of your cervix within, making you scream louder at the exquisite rhythm he is fucking you with “I’m gonna cum inside your pussy and fill you up to the brim with my seed princess, because this pussy belongs to me and I’m gonna mark it with my cum” you only moan as an answer.

Honestly as this point he has been thinking about fucking a baby in you just so you would stop running away from him. He wanted back what you two had before all of his spiraled out of control. He wanted you to be his and only his. He was done with sleeping around, no woman could ever compare to you.

When Gojo came he grunted your name while he spilled himself inside you. He refuses to move until he was certain you took all of his cum like a good girl.

Finally after sharing a kiss he pulled you to lay on his chest, covering your with the sheets he fell asleep.

Which is what took him to this morning, when he woke up alone on his bed.

You’ve told him so many times to forget you but he couldn’t do it, and neither could you.

At the end you both always went back to each other.

“You want me to forget you, Ok, forget me too”

[petitprincess1]

My Roommate’s a Demonic Deer Ch1 (Day 1)

AO3 Link Summary: Don’t you hate it when you accidentally summon a demon to fix a problem within your home, only to find out that they don’t do that, so now you’re stuck with a cannibalistic demon that constantly tracks blood onto the floor, brings other unholy beings into your apartment, and makes amazing jambalaya? It’s amazing insanity! (Radiodust) Words: 1,407 No, I am not abandoning Good Evening. This was just yet another chat post that I made that I just had to make into a fic. However, this will be more like oneshots and it doesn’t, exactly, have a story/finish. It’ll end when I run out of ideas and I have quite a bit of fun ones. ~~~ The moon rose shining light into an apartment’s windows as the person within drew a circle around a star. Lit candles made the atmosphere even more eerie as the man left to grab a small steak knife from within his kitchen. He looked at the book that he carried around and gave a small chuckle, grabbing a wine glass from nearby, “This is the dumbest shit that I’ve ever done and I ain’t even drunk or high for this mess, but whatever.”

He grabbed a knife from a drawer and held his hand over the wine glass. The man groaned as he brought the sharp point of the knife close to his skin, biting his lip in readiness. He hissed through his teeth as the jagged blade stuck into his skin and he felt the warmth of his blood run down his palm, dripping into the wine glass. He moved the knife away, almost practically tossing it as he squeezed his throbbing, burning wound to allow more blood to go into the glass.

After a few more seconds, he moved his hand away and quickly grabbed a paper towel to wrap up his cut, cursing underneath his breath at the burning pain. The man wished that he had a first aid kit or even just a band aid nearby. He was too used to getting his bruises or marks cleaned up at the studio or by his friends. 

After placing so many paper towels on his hand that he’s on the tree’s FBI Most Wanted list, he brought the wine glass filled with a swallow of blood into the center of the pentagram. He mumbled to himself, “What you’re doin’ is really fuckin’ stupid, Anthony, but it seemed like a funny idea, so fuck it.”

The man, Anthony, took the book from the kitchen counter and walked back over to the pentagram, making sure that he had marked everything accordingly to what he saw in the picture. He gave a small shrug as he sat down in front of the pentagram, looked over the odd language in the book, and read the words aloud. ….And nothing happened.

Anthony looked around for the slightest of changes. You know, the usual schtick: Burnt out candles, open windows, random wind, or blood dripping down walls. Anything like that. He tried reading the words again and…again…not even the smallest of change. He sighed as he tossed the book over his shoulder, muttering in dissatisfaction, “I bet if I was high or trippin’ on acid I would see some crazy shit. Welp, the landlord’s gonna be pissed!”

The man brushed back his poofy hair with his non-wounded hand and turned to go to bed. However, the moment he took a step he heard someone clear their throat. Anthony quickly whipped around to see a brownish-greyed skinned man wearing the most amount of red that he had ever seen on a person, while also having red hair that seemed to be shaped like ears…somehow. The man spoke, sounding as if he was speaking through some shitty receiver, “My apologies for the lack of fanfare and overall spooks, I had just finished making dinner before getting so rudely interrupted! Didn’t wish to cause any damage to the roast, so I decided to drop in. Although, the look of surprise never gets old~”

Anthony noticed the golden sharp teeth of the man and wondered how he was able to speak without biting off his tongue. Not only that, but he wondered if he secretly did take some ecstasy or slammed down a bottle of cough syrup. He looked around and asked, “Um, are ya-”

“The demon that you called? Well, I’m certainly not the mailman,” The demon chuckled. He watched the, unbelievably tall, man stand up and walk up to the wine glass, picking it up and swirling the thick liquid within as if it were actually wine. Anthony wasn’t sure what he expected the demon to do with the blood, but still seeing him drink it down caused the human to shiver. He started, “Uh, I’m-”

“Anthony Dust, 28, bit of a drug and alcohol addiction, sex worker, and you may want to watch some of those freckles on that easily tearable skin of yours. I am Alastor,” the demon spoke as he gave a polite bow. Anthony blinked at him in shock and questioned, “Uh, how do you-”

“Your blood tells me all that I need to know about you. Although, I will say that it wasn’t much, most people would give a whole pint to me.”

“Are ya evah gonna let me fin-”

Al interrupted with a grin, “Probably not! Now,” he summoned a microphone cane, spinning it around between his fingers, and finished, “what have you summoned me for~?”

The demon’s eyes glowed a slight crimson as his grin grew in excitement of what the mortal may bring or tell him. Anthony stared up at the tall demon and then made a noise at remembering what he called him for. He quickly ran into his bedroom, disappeared for a few seconds, and then came running out with a sparking, smoking radio. He placed it on a table nearby and slightly moved away from the radio, staring up at a confused Alastor, who was still smiling. The demon blinked and started, “Uh…what i-”

Anthony explained, “You’re the radio demon, right? So, like, can ya fix my radio? I don’t really got the money to buy a new one or get it fixed or…I don’t know, throw it inna river and risk pollutin’ it.”

Alastor blinked at him more and said, “Uh…no, I- no. No, I don’t…I’m not called  that because I fixed radios, you moron!”

The mortal stared at him with his mouth agape and shouted, “What the hell! Why are ya called “The Radio Demon” then!? I ain’t got anythin’ else that needs fixin’! What am I supposed ta do with this thing!?”

Anthony gestured to the now flaming radio behind him, not even noticing that it was on fire. Alastor’s eyes widened, as well as his smile, and he got out from the makeshift pentagram, going over to the radio. He snapped his fingers and a bucket of water appeared over it, splashing the radio’s flames. The human got shocked at seeing him leave the pentagram and questioned, “How the fuck didja get outta there!?”

Alastor swiftly turned to him and snapped, “Because that’s not even a proper pentagram, most would use their own blood or even something mixed with holy water! What was that? Some chalk and whatever else you used!? I’m surprised it even worked!”

The fluffy haired man scoffed as he muttered, “Merda ingrata. Non c'è bisogno di essere così fottutamente maleducato. Yes, I used chalk and tape. I’m sorry that I didn’t fucking go to my local pharmacy ta get some goddamn holy wa-”

He trailed off at seeing the demon’s eyes turn into radio dials as he practically towered over him, making Anthony shrink underneath his gaze and stop talking. Alastor took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. He growled, “Could you just make a deal with me so I can leave this sheer stupidity?”

Anthony rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around and saw a few dishes that were peeking out of the sink. He suggested, “Uh, you can clean some dishes.”

Al’s eye twitched as he snarled, “Are you serious? Is that it? No one you want killed? Nothin-”

A hard knock came on a wall nearby as a voice barked, “Hey, shut the fuck up, damn faggot!”

The demon’s eyes glowed as he snapped his fingers in that direction. A few seconds of silence came before the blood-curdling screams came from the neighbor, including visceral cracking sounds and what sounded like begging. The shrieking became more gurgled after a while before it finally became silent. 

Alastor’s eyes turned back to normal and he seemed to get small dark circles underneath his eyelids. He looked down at Anthony,who stared up at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates, with a tired grin and sighed, “I’m going to go eat your neighbor. We will talk about this more.”

He then suddenly disappeared and Antony was quick to lock the door, trying to pretend this didn’t just happen and ignore the terrifying growling and nauseating wet tearing sounds happening next door.

[saeysooo]

♚ yandere arcana ; main 6 headcanons {crybaby} ||

♡ tw: psychological terror, possession, manipulation, murder ♡ gender-neutral / female apprentice

♜ asra alnazar ; tag, you’re it ♜

They were your master, you their apprentice; But that relationship wasn’t enough to suffice Asra. NOT EVEN CLOSE! They wanted to be yours... Or more so they wanted you to be theirs!

They would watch you through your windows... In fact, they would follow you everywhere! You were so perfect to them, especially whenever you would get undressed after a long day of training. Your soft skin, the adoring stare in your innocent gaze... And yet you had no idea who was watching you behind open curtains.

“You’re so cute! I can just cut you up!”

“Let’s go on an adventure together... What do you say, darling? No..? It’s funny how you think you have a choice!!”

“Then how about we play tag~? If I win, you’re mine. If you win... Well, you’re still mine! You’re mine, ALL MINE!! Run darling!! RUN!”

Maniacal laughter invaded your thoughts, crawling across your skin as you ran for you fragile little life.

They pushed you to the ground, holding you in their dominating grip. At a loss for words, it was too late to scream for help, cry. And even if you did, they wouldn’t let you go!! YOU LOST THE GAME!!

They had no idea before... That YOU were their poison; the bittersweet wonder that they were always searching for on all their adventures into the unknown. There was no way they can give up such a rare flower!

Fluffy, white hair tickled your cheek, their lips dragging across your skin, leaving the mark of their adoration upon you.

“My mother used to tell me that I should pick the best lover... Oh, I love it when I hear your breathing... I know that you won’t ever leave me!”

Where were you...? CAN ANYONE HEAR?! HELP, PLEASE!! ...Ha, you’re talking to yourself!! Silly apprentice, they trapped you in their oasis~!!

♜ julian devorak ; mad hatter ♜

He’s absolutely. Fucking. INSANE.

Julian Devorak was CRAZY for you! Perhaps it was the drugs he experimented with that drove him to his insanity... Or not!

“WHERE IS MY PRESCRIPTION?!”

Maybe it was just the sole factor that you were the only person that showed so much attention to him!! He drowned himself in your touch, the mere sight of you. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do just to hear you call him such endearing things; things only reserved for HIM!

“Wonderland is wherever you are, pumpkin!!”

There wasn’t one dream where you weren’t in it; driving him absolutely nuts. There were so many wondrous things the two of you would do: Skinny dipping in a rabbit hole, painting roses red with his blood, getting high together off helium. Or perhaps the two of you can get drunk off a blue caterpillar and fool around?

The feeling of you being in his mere presence made him want to tear the skin off of him, he wanted so badly just to hold you!!

“IT’S ALWAYS JULIAN NO, JULIAN PLEASE JUST LISTEN! Pumpkin, you DON’T UNDERSTAND! My brain is absolutely SCATTERED whenever you are around, can’t you see!?!”

And by lord how much he loved roleplaying in the bedroom with you. He would go as far as to make costumes and everything to get the scene he wanted to play out absolutely perfect!

“How about this~ Oh I know let’s do some improv acting!! It can be a drama! You can be Alice, and I’ll be the Mad Hatter!”

No matter who you told, nobody would accept or believe that Julian was absolutely insane. He was beyond a histrionic, and it was all because of you. You did this to him. You made him fall in love so fucking hard it drove him mad. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! 

♜ nadia satrinava ; cake ♜

Everything about you was absolutely divine to the Countess. They would bend over backwards to make you happy, to have you stay in their loving gaze. Even if you wanted to leave... She wouldn’t allow it! Can’t you see?! YOU’RE ALL HERS!

Every night you would return home, Nadia felt as if a huge part of herself was missing. You were perfect to her, don’t get her wrong... But there was one ingredient to you missing that was stopping you from being absolutely divine: Her love.

You were warm to her like an oven, your kisses upon her cheek always so sweet like sugar. Your fingers were silk-like, every single time you touched her. Your skin tasted like buttercream and you smelled like vanilla! Every sense she felt around you was filled with empty calories... Calories that would never satisfy her until you were all hers.

You saw her as nothing but a friend... And oh how much she hated that. The thought of you not being more than such a berating title made her skin crawl, her jaw tightening with anger. 

It was when you started dating someone else that she felt more than betrayal... Oh no she went ABSOLUTELY. FUCKING. MAD. 

“I am NOT a piece of cake, flower!! How can you just discard me like I didn’t love you more than them?! HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME WITH NOTHING BUT A FROSTED HEART THAT WAS SUPPOSE TO BE YOURS?!”

“I planned everything out perfectly when I was with you!! The dates, the outfits, the sex! ALL OF IT!!”

Nonetheless... she found a way to forgive you. That’s what a Countess does, forgive those who have made mistakes!! Oh how much you will miss your lover... But it will be okay! Soon you will have another!!

“I’m taking back what’s mine... And showing you a slice of heaven that you can have when you are mine. Not that you weren’t already mine~!”

♜ muriel of the kokhuri ; teddy bear ♜

What was once his cold, exposed heart? He couldn’t even remember anymore. Despite all his attempts to push you away, isolate himself once more... You showed him love, gave him a space in your heart that was unmeasurable. And he didn’t want to admit how much he loved it.

You could never be scared of Muriel, knowing he was just a big teddy bear! You found it absolutely endearing whenever he talked in his sleep, saying all the things he would do to you, nervous beyond belief!!

It was when you started finding knives under his pillow in the morning, crumpled photos that he had drawn of you, destroyed pieces of wood that he whittled of you... That doubt began to sprout in the midst of your naive heart. Should you be scared?

What was once a comforting and quiet energy... Became malicious and violent. His love for you seemed to only extend farther than what you could perceive “healthy.” How can love become so violent?! What happened to the sweet, gentle giant that sparked a newfound feeling in his mind?!

There was only one thing you wish you did... RUN.

It was when you disposed of the myrrh he had given you to forget him... That he went absolutely mad. How can you just try to dispose of him?! ACT LIKE YOU DIDN’T KNOW HIM? HOW COULD YOU??!

What was a normal, rainy day was filled with nothing but sheer terror. He was inside your home!! WHO WAS HE?! ... YOU’RE SCARED! But oh how you had brought this upon yourself!! SO WHAT IF YOU’RE FUCKING SCARED?!

You were unprepared when his heavy breaths radiated off of the walls, bouncing around inside your mind... He was absolutely silent... When he tried to bring a knife down upon you.

♜ portia devorak ; dollhouse ♜

There was nothing Portia wanted more than for you and her to be a perfect couple, someday a perfect family even. Pepi, you, and her... Alone in her cottage, living a domestic life. How wonderful does that sound? Absolutely HEAVENLY to her, that’s for sure!!

To the public, you and Portia were, in fact, the perfect couple! She was absolutely angelic to anyone who met her eye, and you were her darling lover, an endearing doll of hers that she kept close to her. She opened the walls of her home to you, to her heart!

But soon people started to see something... different between you two. Were you really as perfect as you looked?

She’s coming... SHE’S COMING!! Swinging the attic door open, her wide smile offered an array of madness that couldn’t begin to be assessed. Her giggles filled your ears, what was once something you loved became something you came to fear. 

When was the last time you truly thought for yourself? Portia did everything for you. She coddled you, fed you, dressed you, did your makeup, told you when you can speak, when you were to sleep. There wasn’t a moment where you were anything else but her rag doll, controlled and motivated under her loving hand.

“You were absolutely wonderful today, doll!! The way people looked at us. We’re perfect together!! EVERYONE THINKS IT, DON’T YOU?”

No matter how perfect everyone thought the two of you to be, you saw what everyone else didn’t see of Portia... How terrifyingly. Fucking. Insane she was.

But this is all your fault. You tried to run, tried to ruin the perfect facade Portia built up in her head. She just had to take things into her own hands to make sure you stayed! AND NOW LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!

♜ lucio morgasson ; milk and cookies ♜

What else is there to say?! He LOVES YOU!! 

He locked the doors of the palace at night. He needed to know you were there with him, in his arms, sound asleep... But when you tried to run, Lucio lost his trust in you; Trust that you can be alone.

“YOU SHOULD THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU TRY TO FUCKING CALL FOR HELP AGAIN, LITTLE BIRD!!”

Every night became the same; Lucio spiking the milk that put you to sleep; enough poison in it where he would be able to bend you to his will. Day by day, you grew weaker, unable to think for yourself. He took his chance to hold you then, singing a lullaby to you until you were... absolutely... knocked out...

“Do you want me, little bird? Of course, I’ll hold you!! I’m here!”

When the plague hit, did Lucio care? Absolutely not!! All that mattered was that you were with him, until death did you part! But when Lucio got sick, ill-ridden with the plague... He needed a final resort... Something that would assure you both would be TOGETHER FOREVER

“I baked you cookies, darling bird. Do you like them? ...Do you want to know the secret ingredients? Well, it’s a little bit of sugar... And a LOT of poison! ...Oh look how tired you’re getting. Perhaps I should put you to bed? The plague can’t kill you if I do first~! But don’t worry!! I’ll be join you VERY soon, my beautiful bird!”

He held you close to him, the sickening look in his reddened eyes absolutely deadly, filled with lust. There was nothing more soothing than seeing the pure innocence on your face when you were asleep. He sang you a final lullaby, before he set the room aflame... Ashes, ashes... If he was going to die, you were going to go down with him!! Amongst the fire surrounding him, he found solstice in knowing you were waiting for him, beckoning him to join you in the supple whisper of death. Because even in death... You couldn’t escape him; Death couldn’t do you part!

═════☩══♛══☩═════

*Author’s Note: I re-listened to the crybaby album and heard certain lines in different songs that set off my yandere writing radar. I stayed in my seat for 4 hours writing this as well... So I really hope you enjoyed!

═════☩══♛══☩═════

[derl30]

ALTERED STATES REVIEW TIME!

OK, this tumblr is, today, a vehicle for me to review ALTERED STATES. And you (the one person who stumbled on this review two-hundred years from n- oh who am I kidding, when the aliens from A.I. who show up to thaw out Haley Joel Osment and the teddy bear who was the real hero of that movie find this) should be very excited about this. Because this movie is insane. And highly entertaining.

Yes, the movie poster looks like ass. If I told you this was a movie where William Hurt (not the William Hurt from that awful 90's Lost in Space remake, or the one who slept through an entire performance as Duke Leto in the Syfy miniseries of Dune. This is before the body snatchers got him) took ayahuasca and got in a isolation tank and it blew his mind so hard he started devolving into a neanderthal and creating dimensional portals and he couldn't stop because he was addicted to finding the truth of existence... Well you wouldn't get that from this poster, would you? So let's move on. Shall we?

The film opens in 1967 with William Hurt's character, psychopathologist Edward Jessup, already immersed in a sensory deprivation tank, whilst his colleague and “buddy” Bob Balaban (he's just Bob Balaban in everything I'm not giving you his character's name look it up yourself if it's bugging you so much) oversees.

Now, you may notice I put buddy in quotes. The reason for that is that Jessup is a self-obsessed ass who seemingly has no reason to be around other people unless he can expound to them one of his various monologues. Bob Balaban barely gets a word in edgewise throughout the entire film. Bob Balaban.

See, Jessup loves the sensory deprivation tank experience. Unsurprisingly, as it allows him to be completely alone with himself for hours.

Later, at perhaps the lamest party ever, a bunch of faculty are chilling out and listening to the Doors. Everyone we see is talking about Jessup. Why? Well, much as Jessup is obsessed with himself, everyone else seems to follow suit by being obsessed with him. One young woman, Emily, (Blair Brown) is introduced to him in this very shot below as he arrives at the party:

Notice how is framed in holy light? There is a closeup after, of him framed in blinding glowing light followed up with a zoom in on Emily's face, enraptured with this incredible dynamic man. So much so that the moment he tries to make a goddamn sandwich she starts grabbing his celery (get your mind out of the gutter) and flirting with him. Which for these two that means talking science, immediately. Talking more at each other than with each other. This is often the way with Paddy Chayefsky's scripts.

PAUSE

Paddy Chayefsky is doubtless one of the great American writers for the screen. He wrote Marty, The Hospital and Network (which is a fucking incredible piece of work). He got an Oscar for all three. He also wrote this movie (Altered States, remember? Good lord) and disowned it completely three weeks in to production. His scripts tend to have very intelligent, driven characters at the center, who monologue extensively at each other. These scripts are not attempting to sound naturalistic.

Ken Russell, however, directed the film. He, like Chayefsky, is top notch at what he does (Direct. I said he directed the film like a second ago, come on keep up). His films, like Women in Love, The Devils, (which was banned in several major countries upon release and has never been shown publicly in its full, uncut form (by the way it's a masterpiece)) the Who's Tommy, Gothic, and Lair of the White Worm are all fucking gonzo nuts. I mean like, when you gave this guy the reins, you were going to Overthetopsville and there will be no stops on this trip. And god bless! I love directors who GO for it!

You're getting the chance to make a movie. Stop hemming and hawing and hit me over the head with what you want to say! Film is a visual medium, USE IT!

I feel I might have made my feelings clear here. So, moving on...

Ken Russell and Paddy Chayefsky immediately started butting heads, right from the start. Chayefsky was a BIG deal, and he wanted control over the picture in a BIG way. Ken would listen to his suggestions on everything to lighting and set dressing, and politely tell him, “No.”, and continue being the director of the film. Chayefsky hated him pretty quickly.

He had much more control over films like The Hospital. Which, if you watch The Hospital, well, it shows. You've got great actors (George C. Scott, Dame Diana Rigg (Dame may be the greatest official title of all time)) saying great dialogue. But its just two very witty bitter people sort of expounding on topics and speaking at each other and suddenly admitting they are in love and discussing what drapes they will have to buy for their new home. It's utterly preposterous, and it doesn't work in the way Sidney Lumet got it to work in Network, by literally making one of the lead characters realize his life is turning into a ludicrous soap opera.

So of course Ken tried to humanize, naturalize, the dialogue sequences. And it works! The film feels more human than the Hospital or Network. Despite the fact that Jessup is literally becoming more and more inhuman throughout the film. One of the ways he does this is by having the character's eat, drink, and work on other things during the dialogue sequences. This is perfectly normal in film, it's called giving the actor “business” to do, during the scene. Chayefsky HATED this. “They are mumbling my precious dialogue! Chewing through it! Sucking it through a straw!” Sorry, Chayefsky buddy. It works for the picture. Chayefsky also felt the actors were too emotional with his dialogue. Right. See, they call that acting.

UNPAUSE

Which brings us back to the first meeting of Emily and Jessup at the party. They are eating during this important scene! I can just picture Chayefsky seeing this, and running to the studio brass to tattle and get Ken Russell fired (as he got Arthur Penn of Bonnie and Clyde fame fired before Ken Russell came on board).

Emily and Jessup are, true to Chayefsky form, extremely intelligent, driven people and hearing them discuss topics such as anthropology and schizophrenia is quite interesting. It's just that what is to come, film being a visual medium, will eclipse just about any dialogue, no matter how good, from our mind thingys.

The two give up on the science talk and go straight to banging on her couch. After, she asks what he was thinking about. His answer is priceless. “God. Jesus. Crucifixions.”

She smiles.

Bwahahaha! Oh Paddy Chayefsky, you sure know women.

He admits he used to have religious visions. She listens to him from the sweaty couch whilst he sits naked on the floor, and starts going on about his father's horrible death of cancer and his loss of faith. And he admits to her that he's a nut. Her response is to call him a fascinating bastard. I think Lucas may have taken notes for Padme and Anakin.

So naturally, they get married immediately.

But none of that matters because Jessup gets back in the sensory deprivation tank and has his first vision. A nightmare of his dying father and lost faith in christianity. It's pretty great, filled with foreboding hospital rooms, his father's face being covered in a burning Shroud of Turin, everything covered by horrible blood red clouds and then THIS FUCKING THING SHOWS UP AND ITS ALIVE AND WRIGGLING

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

excuse me...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The many-eyed goat is slaughtered over a gold bible and suddenly Jessups screwing Emily again and we enter a blood vessel looking thing and the vision ends and he never mentions this again. Oh. Okay,

Emily continues on about what a nut Jessup is as they make marriage plans. Her monologue:

“You're an unmitigated madman. You don't have to tell me how weird you are. I know how weird you are. I'm the girl in your bed the past two months. Even sex is a mystical experience for you. You carry on like a flagellant... Which can be very nice, but I sometimes wonder if it's me that's being made love to. I feel like I'm being harpooned by some raging monk in the act of receiving God. (Emphasis mine)

"And you are a Faust-freak Eddie! You'd sell your soul to find the great truth. Well, human life doesn't have great truths. We're born in doubt. We spend our lives persuading ourselves we're alive. And one way we do that is we love each other, like I love you. I can't imagine living without you. So let's get married, and if it turns out to be a disaster, it'll be a disaster.”

It's a disaster.

As in, by the next scene. It starts off happy enough looking, they have kids and people are smiling. And hey, wow it's seven years later! But, well, see, whoops, they are getting a divorce. Well, not they. See, he is divorcing her because he considers the seven years with her a complete waste.

She still loves him, desperately. He doesn't give a shit about her or the kids. He tells Bob Balaban this, straight up. And then starts bugging him about deprivation tanks and Hinchi Indians in South America who have sacred mushrooms that can really fuck you up.

It's at this point you would like for Jessup to be hit by a Mack truck. But the movie continues on. By the way, this is one of the kids he doesn't give a crap about:

That's right. Drew Barrymore's first role is a kid that William Hurt doesn't give a shit about. Something that William Hurt would make a career out of with narcoleptic performances in Lost in Space and Syfy's Dune. So, Emily takes the kids to Africa for her anthropology work while Jessup goes to South America to go deeper into his own creepy mind.

The Hinchi Indians agree to allow him to participate in the drug ritual. They enter their holy cave.

This shot is beautiful. At this point the film becomes increasingly gorgeous. Ken Russell has started to go into overdrive, ladies and gentlemen. Buckle. Your. Seatbelts.

The Indians grab Jessup's hand and cut him, freaking him out. They pour his blood into the drug mixture. They begin to drink. Then he takes a sip. The intensity of the film here has quadrupled. The vision begins, fireworks going off all around him. He sees cave paintings of humans and komodo dragons and this:

The proper life he left behind with Emily. He's convulsing, sweating. The Indians are all around, masked. Snakes. He's laughing in pain. Energy spills from the void. A snake under the parasol strikes and begins to strangle him. He and Emily march toward a nuclear explosion as energy pours from the cut on his hand, becoming a lizard. From within a sandstorm, Emily watches him, naked. Jessup looks at her, entranced, as the soothing sands cover them both, slowly.

It's a beautiful sequence. A perfect film sequence. I can't overstate how strong the vision sequences are from this point forward. Great visual effects work and the madman mind of Ken Russell create something unforgettable, with it's own pace, independent from the rest of the film.

Jessup awakens with a komodo dragon laying before him, ripped to pieces. The Indians and the others all claim he killed it in rage. Jessup remembers nothing, takes samples of the drug to reproduce it, and goes back home.

Back home, Jessup keeps doing as much of the drug as he can and having Bob Balaban record results. They can't up the dosage any more so Jessup hops back in to the self deprivation tank to create a more extreme experience.

In his next session, Jessup states he is having a vision of early man, hunting a deer and killing it. Suddenly he states he is one of them, killing the deer. He begins to grunt like an animal. The two pull him out. He's incredibly pale, blood seeping out of his mouth. He can't speak, and has difficulty breathing. He insists they do an X-ray. It shows that there is a vocalizing lump in the front part of his throat. Jessup claims that his body had begun to revert to a simian state. The medical doctor agrees, stating the throat X-rays looks like that of a gorilla.

Luckily his throat returns to normal. So Jessup finishes up his day by having over a student of his and sleeping with her.

Our hero, people!

At this point we hardly feel sorry for him as his body suddenly begins to twist and bulge in the middle of the night, shifting in and out of neanderthal shapes. It's a horrific sequence, disturbing as hell. You certainly didn't expect the film to shift into body horror.

Jessup feels normal after a while. but sees visions of lava explosions, the birthing of the Earth all around him. Not a good sign.

He goes to pick up Emily from the airport the next day. She asks how he is doing.

“Oh, fine.”

Yeah right.

Emily has been told what Jessup has been doing and is worried, which of course pisses off Jessup even more. The guy is obviously obsessed with reaching the truth and root of existence, much as Emily surmised earlier, and we see he has no fear of even losing his own soul, again true to her word. The only thing that allows us to give a shit about him at this point is that Emily cares for him and she's decent people, okay?

So back Jessup goes into the tank with his ayahuasca or whatever it is. Alone. The tank door opens from the inside.

The hand that pushes it open is covered in thick hair. He's devolved.

Ape-Jessup escapes the tank room and chases a janitor around the building. Again, this scene is fucking freaky as hell. We can't get a good look at this screaming animal that was Jessup.

The janitor gets a guard to help and chases after him into the boiler room, where we finally get a good look at him when he assaults the security guard and escapes.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Ape-Jessup runs through the city at night, making his way to the zoo where he kills a antelope and eats it. The Ape-Jessup sequence goes on way too long, but is nonetheless unforgettable. The makeup is much more convincing than the above picture suggests, and whoever performed Ape-Jessup did an admirable job.

The cops find an unconscious Jessup in the zoo and bring him in. Emily picks him up and questions him. Jessup admits everything that he can remember. He also admits that he probably killed that security guard. And once again doesn't seem to give a shit. Prick. He calls it the most supremely satisfying time of his life.

Even Emily seems disgusted with him. But, she's also fascinated with what he's accomplished. As an anthropologist, his transformation fascinates her. And so, she agrees to help oversee his next session. Big mistake.

Before the big session Emily and Jessup romantically reconnect, and then into the climactic session we go!

Get your popcorn ready!

After a few hours in to the session, the video monitor shows Jessup begin to literally melt apart like goo, reverting to primordial ooze, the very beginning of existence. An attempt to open the isolation tank doors blasts everyone unconscious, as light and energy pour forth. Emily is the only one left. She sees Jessup's life energy pulse from within the tank.

Rain pours down around them. The pipes on the walls twist and turn like jelly. The ground is covered with a pool of swirling fog and energy. Emily advances toward the vortex of the tank.

In the emptiness of the beginning of everything, Emily seizes the energy before her and reconstitutes Jessup.

They take him home. While he sleeps, Emily rages over the fact that she loves such a insane bastard, and can't get over him. And, then, after Bob Balaban leaves, leaving Emily alone, Jessup wakes up.

He sweetly admits that the truth he learned was that there was no learnable truth, just unknowable horror, and all that's real is human experience. And he'll be a good boy from now on. Well too bad!

Because that horrible truth isn't done with him, and it's back to goo-Jessup! Emily tries to help him, grabbing him, but this in turn effects her, turning her into a shimmering lava form of herself. Both of them begin to self-destruct as Jessup, enraged, watching her in pain, struggles to retake his humanity, slamming himself into the wall, reforming himself through sheer will and physicality. He grabs her and brings her back, mirroring what she did for him during the final session. They embrace naked in the hallway. He finally admits, “I love you, Emily.”

Fade to credits.

Awww true love!

What can I say to sum up? Awesome 80's practical effects. Genius wacko go-for-it Ken Russell directing. Out of this world vision sequences. A awake and actually remarkable performance from William Hurt. An occasionally turgid but often fascinating script by the ever ornery Paddy Chayefsky. Whats not to like?

Well, the ending is a little rushed. The ape sequence goes on for a little too long and takes up perhaps too much of the films overall running time. The central love story is, well... a little hard to swallow, but hey, I guess there really is somebody out there for everyone. Even self-absorbed, deadbeat, cheating, sensory deprivation loving, ayahuasca dropping, Harvard teachers with a messiah complex!

And on that note, aliens from A.I. Artifical Intelligence, have a good day, and don't leave poor Teddy alone with no one to keep him company!

Sayonara!

[inosuketingz]

the sheets are stained with blood [p.2]

( gif source rafikecoyote )

PART ONE [ PART TWO ] PART THREE PART FOUR Victor Zsasz x fem!Reader Warning: swearing, mentions of sex, violence, blood, spoilers for Birds of Prey Word Count: 1980 A/N: I promise I am not dead I just disappeared. I do plan on extended this fic to like far off places so if you want me to tag you in upcoming parts, feel free to ask!

 Victor’s knife digs deeper into your neck and you groan. His face isn’t an inch away from yours, his breath able to tickle your nose. 

 “I’ve got a special place on my back for you, Night Hex,” Zsasz insists. You roll your eyes. People only started to call Night Hex after your first few encounters with Wonder Woman. It just so happened that they all occurred during the night, and now you’re stuck with that shit hole of a super villain name. 

 You grab onto his arm and he instinctively tries to jerk it away, but your grip is tight as you chant “Mutanter et nos, mutanter et nos, mutanter et nos.” One of the first spells you ever learned- it allows you to swap positions with whoever is in your grasp.

 In the blink of an eye, you are standing where Zsasz stood, holding his knife into his neck. For a second a look of shock and confusion crosses his face until that shit-eating grin returns. 

“Spooky,” he mocks you.

 “I hate to rain on your parade, Mr. Zsasz, but I’m not in the mood to be another one of your slaughter animals.” You pull back, making sure to keep the weapon on you. “Maybe next time, though.”

  He doesn’t move from the wall and you watch him watch you, waiting for him to say something. You two share a moment of silence, VIctor staring you down with hooded eyes.

 You aren’t sure if you should get nervous right now. You could easily overpower him with one one of the plethora of spells you know. But, it’s not like you’re immortal or anything. All it takes is for him to grab the nearest sharp object to gut you- and you’re a goner. 

 “Why the hell are you here?” You question and quickly add “And how the hell did you get into my apartment?” 

 Again, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, you watch him reach into the back pockets of his dress pants and you immediately slam his knife into his shoulder before he can pull anything out. A small, but joyful smile forms on your lips as you stare down at him. Your strength is in your witchcraft, not weapons. When your instinct led you to shove the knife into Zsasz’s skin, you were only about 50% sure you were strong enough to actually hurt him. 

 He looks  up at you as he pulls the object out of him. “You didn’t even let me answer, bitch.” And then he tries to lunge at you. Again- you are a witch. Not a weapons-master nor a body builder. From what you’ve heard about Zsasz, his strength is impressive for a normal human. One punch from him could knock you out. 

 Since you started practicing your witchcraft after turning 18, you found out there were a lot of pros and cons that came with it. Pros are; with the right spell, potion, ritual, or object- you are capable of doing practically anything. Cons are; these things take time. So in cases where a psycho is attacking you with a knife, and you don’t have time to say a three-line spell, you have to act from the top of your head. Usually not the best idea.

 And, in this scenario, as Zsasz’s hand’s only a little a couple of inches away from your face, your brain tells you to raise your leg and slam your foot on his groin as hard as you can. The chunky platform heels you’re wearing help with the effort. 

 Victor stumbles back, dropping the knife to cup his crotch in pain. You lurch for the weapon the second it slips out of his hand and shove Zsasz to the ground, straddling chest as his back hits the floor to keep him from moving. 

 Maybe dealing with Wonder Woman these past few years has its perks.

 Holding the knife up in warning, you repeat yourself “What do you want, Victor?”

 Again, he smiles. “So, you really don’t remember me, huh?” He, again, changed the subject. 

 “What?” You lowered your arm in confusion. “The fuck are you talking about?” A man like VIctor Zsasz is not one you could forget. But, he doesn’t let it go.

 “I mean, sure, it was a couple of years ago, but c’mon. I wasn’t that bad, was I?” He’s amused as he speaks. He knows the more ambiguity he says, the deeper he gets under your skin.

 You watch him chuckle and narrow your eyes in thought. Admittedly, your history is a long and fanatical one. Maybe you did come across Zsasz one time or another.

It's when he continues his monologue that the bulb in your brain finally lights up. “What was the name they gave you? Cosima or some shit?” 

 You struggle to come up with a reply. Cosima? In the least cliche way; you haven’t heard that name in years. Victor laughs at the shocked look on your face. “You do remember!” He feigns appreciation.

 Your parents never took too great of a liking to you. As they raised you and your twin sister, with the knowledge that only offspring becomes a witch, it was clear that they wanted that witch to be the latter, Talia. You couldn’t blame them, of course. You were a little shit, constantly hanging with the wrong crowds and causing chaos around the city. And then, you inherited the powers. They were angry about it. A month later Talia went missing. They became angrier.

 Their favoritism never really bothered you, and you and your sister were actually quite close. You didn’t take your sister’s disappearance well. What started as you stealing a few things from the corner store as a kid turned into sex, drugs, high theft, and more. 

 So, they kicked you out. For the first few months, you couch hopped from friend’s house to friend’s house. At this time, you had almost no experience with magic, so scamming your way through life using witchcraft wasn’t an option. Then, one of your friends proposed a job offer. She worked as a dancer at a gentlemen's club where there happened to be an opening. 

 Workers also got free housing, so you took the friend on her offer. You never imagined that you’d work as a stripper, but at that point- you were desperate for anything. 

 Rich men from all over the world came to the club, one of them being the rich Gotham entrepreneur Vikram Zsasz. He was well into his 40’s and brought with him a couple of employees for his company- as well as his 25 year old son, Victor Zsasz. 

 It was so hard to draw a connection to the Victor who lays cackling on your hardwood floor to the fresh-faced young man who visited that day. He was a completely different person, you wouldn’t have ever remembered it was him had he not mentioned it. 

 The younger Zsasz moved with energy and pride, like some arrogant frat boy. He was attractive, as he still is, with clear skin that lacked the tally marks that plague him now. When your boss escorted you and a few other girls to host the group of men, he was chugging a glass of scotch like juice, his platinum blonde hair styled in a messy side part. 

 You remember his attention always being on you as you sat with the party. You never thought much of it since there was always men and women lusting over you while you danced. His eyes watched you with adoration, unlike the disturbing leers he gives you now.

 You would have declined his offer when he asked you to spend the night with him had he been anyone else. But, he was hot and you were horny so you accepted.

 He was equally as cocky in bed as he was at the gentlemen’s club. He kept telling you to “lay back and let him do all the work”, something you didn’t have a problem with since it wasn’t like you planned on doing shit anyway. He attacked your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in days. The feeling of his tongue swirling against your clit and his fingers deep inside of you had you pulling at his hair. 

 When he inserted himself inside of you, you remember that he was rough. He took you from behind first and held you by your neck as he continuously ordered you to call him “Daddy” and praise his work on you. 

 For about two hours, all that filled the hotel room were your moans, his groans and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. 

 Your face warms and you feel yourself growing wet from the thought. You don’t even notice when he placed his hands on your thighs. 

 “Guess I wasn’t so bad after all, witch.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you’re reminded that the Victor you’re straddling isn’t the boy from your memories. 

 He’s an insane serial killer whose body count of corpses ascends over the Wayne Tower . A devil who lurks the streets of Gotham. One ready to take the lives of any that come too close to him, including you.

 You push yourself off of him. “Don’t call me that, dickhead.” 

 “What else should I call you? My little slut?” He sits up on his elbows and smiles when you roll your eyes. “Or maybe a fucking cocksucker? That’s what you are anyway-”

 “If you’re not here to kill me, stop wasting my time,” you cut him off. He’s trying to get into your head, with his twisted teasing and reminders. You’re not in the mood for any of it. 

  He glances at the stab wound on his shoulder. It wasn’t too deep, but his printed Versace dress shirt is stained with blood. “What, you’re not gonna help with Daddy’s wounds?” He taunts you.

~ ~ ~

 Zsasz moans in comfort as he slips into the bath. His arm was stiff since you actually did wrap his gash on his shoulder. You made sure you tied it too tight, so much so that it almost cut the circulation off his arms. But that didn’t matter. It’s the fact that you did it which he cares so much about it.

 He picks his phone from the pockets of his pants which he tossed on the bathroom floor while getting undressed. He opens the photo app and taps on an untitled folder. In it are images of you, ranging from low quality helicopter shots of your encounters with Wonder Woman to pictures he snapped of you from your apartment window without you knowing.

 When he saw you that day at the club, he was immediately fascinated with your looks. When he returned to Gotham, you were all that took up his mind. He was obsessed, but he lost you. You were hours away, in the dangerous parts of Boston without anyone to watch over you. 

 His parents died a few months after his encounter with you. After that, his depression led him to the gambling addiction where he lost it all to Oswald Cobblepot. He was ready to end it all when he met Roman. By then, he almost forgot about you until your face showed up on nationwide news one day as everyone dubbed you Wonder Woman’s new foe.

 He zooms in on a photo he had taken of you in the shower. Your breasts were nearly in full view, if it wasn’t for the stupid fucking plant you had in there that blocked much of the window. Zsasz smiles.

 He’s lost everything. He lost his parents in the car accident. He lost his fortune in the Gotham casino. He lost Roman to that bitch, Harley Quinn. He’s lost everything. Everything except you.

[sleepyxdarling]

What would your ocs do when their darling is pregnant?

Omg yay an oc request! Also..as you can tell the boys look different..this is due to the fact that the app I used before to make them completely decided not to work so I used picrew.

This is bout to be one long post

Warning:story contains abuse, disturbing behavior, and nsfw talk

Yandere bois find out S/O is pregnant!

Yoshi

Yoshi had walked into the home you both shared only to see his lovely [name] pacing back and forth in the living room.

Of course yoshi didn't say anything since he figured you were just being weird but it did irk him that you didn't even say hello to him. Out of annoyance he walked over to you and pushes you down on the couch and crawled ontop of you straddling you down

"what is your problem kitten?! Not saying hi? You think you are better than me? A pitiful girl like you?!" His tone was filled with rage as he grabbed your hair roughly.

"no! Please! I'm...I'm.." your stammering seemed to piss yoshi off more as he loosely puts a hand around your throat "you what... speak pig" he hissed out.

"pregnant! I'm pregnant!"

This made yoshi pull back and he chuckles softly "really? That's great! You must feel honored to be carrying my baby" his cocky tone would have been encouraging..only issue is you two have sex with condoms that you know don't break..plus you are secretly taking birth control.

"yoshi..I..um..I don't understand how I'm pregnant"

Your nervous stammering only made yoshi laugh more "you think I didn't plan this? Oh you dumb girl..you don't pregnant unless I want you to" he said as he cupped your face in his hands "who knew using a turkeybaster would be so easy when you're asleep...also..next time I find birth control in this house...I will make you suffer " He whispers out while his eyes swirled with insanity.

"now we can be a family..mommy...daddy...and baby"

Those months through pregnancy were hell dealing with yoshi and his protective and abusive behavior.

Suke

Suke was cooking dinner when his darling [name] came to him looking quite excited. Suke was a gentle lover who would never hurt his darling and of course they had no real reason to truly fear him.

He felt arms around him which made him jump slightly but he trusted his lover with everything he had so he wasn't too tense.

"I have amazing news!" Your cheerful voice made him smile as he finished dinner which was spaghetti

"let me set the table then we can discuss it.." he spoke calmly as he started to serve places and set the table before sitting with you. He could tell you were bursting with excitement so he took a sip of wine and let you say what you wanted.

"we are having a baby!"

His reaction..was not a good one. Suke spit his drink out onto the floor before turning his head to you with wide eyes. He looked pale and started to sweat.

"a...a...a baby?! What?! Impossible..did the condoms break?! This can't happen!" He was stressed for sure and that wasn't the reaction you were expecting so of course you were disappointed.

"you don't want a baby?"

Your words made him tense up and he could tell he hurt you deeply. "I want a baby..but..what if they end up blind? How could you even think of forgiving me for passing that down to them?"

Suke was now up on his feet pacing back and forth "they will have so many issues...they will have to be homeschooled the moment their vision starts to weaken and things will be so much harder for them" his babbling only got faster and you grabbed his arm to calm him down.

He lets out a long sigh before pulling you into his arms

"we...we will work it out"

The pregnancy was one with many doctor visits and lots of caution.

Taro

Taro had returned from a church event when you sprung the news on him through baby clothes on the bed along with a pregnancy test.

Taro usually when he got home was more of himself...aka a lot more rowdy and abrasive. The moment he saw you he couldn't help but pick you up.

"you serious?! We havin' a baby? [Name] this better not be a joke or else.." he was excited but warry.

"it's not a joke taro! I am pregnant!" Your statement sent him into overdrive and he couldn't help but spin you around while laughing

"holy shit! Holy shit! We are havin' a baby! I guess the Lord does awesome thing eh?" He cheers out and couldn't help but kiss you all over your face.

The pregnancy was a happy one for sure and taro treated you like a queen..even when you annoyed him.

ryo

Ryo is usually gone a lot due to work but he still takes the time to spend it with his babe. Hell sometimes he brings you with him on job assignments since you never really distract him too much.

This time though you both were out and he just finished taking a few pictures so he decided a stroll through the park would be fine..that's when you busted the news out on him.

He grew pale and looked like he had been punched in the gut. He was silent for a few minutes before looking at you with a nervous expression

"damn..how are we supposed to fuck with a baby in ya?" He questions out seriously.

You weren't sure if you should hit him or not but you decided not to smack him..though he deserved it.

Ryo chuckles as the information really sinked in "we are having a baby..you are gonna look really cute all swollen with my brat in you" he teased softly.

The pregnancy with ryo was....interesting. he took care of you but there was a lot more sex involved the bigger you got in your terms.

Ryuji

As a teacher kids are everything to ryuji so you knew he would be happy but you were still nervous and in tears by the news that you were even pregnant..it still shocked you.

When he got home he saw your tears and immediately got nervous. He hated to see his princess cry and so he was at your side hugging you tight

"my sweetheart.. sugarplum..angel..what's the matter?" His bundle of nicknames did make you feel better but you were still crying.

"I'm.. pregnant." You cried out and he gave but a simple hum "is that so? How exciting.." he said calmly as he pulled back to get you some tissues.

His eyes were slightly widen to show his pupils more and he was smiling..he knew you were pregnant. He is very sharp and the moment he felt something was wrong he may have stolen some of your blood and submitted it in for a blood test in order to check if you are pregnant.

He of course was so happy you told him and head happy to have this baby with you since he did Poke the hole in the condoms before use just to be sure you would get pregnant.

The pregnancy was a well prepared one for sure and ryuji made certain you two were ready for anything no matter how small.

Shun

Seeing as shun acted childish you were unsure if he can handle being a father. You two were ready to go to the beach and you had bought a baby toy for the beach to tell the news. When you both got there shin was all for the water and sand.

"hey hey creampuff! Let's build a sand castle!" His happy cheers were cute but this wasn't the time right now so you beckoned him close before showing him the beach toy

Shun got it really quick and was quite excited.

"oh my! Sweetcakes...are we having a baby?! Do you know the gender? What are we going to name them? What do you think they would look like? Ah I'm so exited to go shopping!" His questions and squealing only made you feel like he wasn't mature enough for a kid.

You felt him hug you and he gave a small hum "hey..plumcake..if anything happened to our kid..you know I wouldn't be happy right? So let me take care of you. Never leave my side. Don't you dare take any medicine or eat any food until I give you the okay" his tone was cold and firm yet low and hush as he rubbed circles along your stomach.

"daddy will always be here..my little pumpkin"

The pregnancy was a controlled one..but shun made it fun.

[vikingsarememes]

Pairings: Sigurd Snake in the Eye (cause it’s fancier than just Sigurd) X Y/N

Summary: you caught Sigurd and your brother having sex in the middle of your family’s cabin while everyone was gone and you are trying to understand why would anyone want that.

Word count:  1435

Warnings: hints of homophobia, mention of rape.

“Y/N! Wait!” The fourth son of Ragnar followed you shouting, you ran to the woods, speechless, trying to comprehend what just happened, what did you just see, you were disgusted, and horrified “Y/N! Please stop” he begged panting, as he finally caught up with you, you turned to look at him “all this time! I thought you were in our home because you’re our friend! By Odin’s name Sigurd! What on earth was that?” You screamed, he placed a hand on your mouth “please stop screaming I’ll explain everything!” 

You screamed more into his palm and once you calmed down you nodded at him, he took his hand off of your mouth and took a deep breath “swear to me you won’t tell anyone!” Sigurd begged “what? Sigurd I won’t tell tell” you frowned “no! Y/N this is serious! Swear to me on Freya’s blessings! That you may never bear a child if you break this oath!” He looked at you dead serious in the eyes.

“Fine! I swear!” He raised his eyebrows at you, you rolled your eyes “I swear it on Freya’s gift, I may never mother a child” he nodded then went silent for few minutes “I have feelings for men… the same way I feel towards women, the same way I should feel towards women” he began to explain, you blinked at him not able to understand “I know it’s not normal, I wish I can help it but I can’t” 

“Wait... what’s this supposed to mean?” you frowned “why my brother?” he sighed and blushed, his cheeks were red of embarrassment “Y/N! Please!” he said in a whisper and gave you few minutes to connect the dots, and when you finally did you let out a small oh, then looked at his disgusted “with my brother? With Bard? He’s not even that handsome!” you groaned, he rolled his eyes “it’s not like I have many options here, few men I can trust and sadly your brother is one of them”, “but I’ve seen you with women before! This is insane!” you insisted.

“I can be with a woman but they don’t give me the same feelings a man does, Y/N, you mustn’t tell anyone, not Hvitserk, not Ivar, not Ubbe, and not even Bjorn! Especially Ivar, this must remain a secret” he warned for the hundredth time, you furrowed your eyebrows “it’s alright in our society to like other men, why are you so afraid? Besides, if you don’t tell people then how would you find someone that you actually like?” you sat down on the grass and the man sat next to you “it’s not, you don’t know how they treat men who like men, besides, I’m no ordinary man, I’m the son of Ragnar, destined for greatness, my mother would disown me, my brothers would mock me, and people would despise me” 

His voice became sadder, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your left breast, then looked down at his trousers, your brain still unable to comprehend that Sigurd wasn’t into women, you’ve seen him with thousands of them! The slave girl, Margrethe can confirm, Sigurd frowned and looked at you, unsure what you were expecting, and when you saw nothing you sighed in defeat “fine! I believe you and I will keep your secret, but I still think you can do much better than my brother”, “what was that about?” he asked you shrugged.

“Well, Hvitserk always said my breasts were magical and whoever doesn’t get turned on by them isn’t a real man, no offense, so I thought I might prove you wrong or figure if you’re saying the truth” you explained the best you could, he pouted, you patted your lap for him to lay his head on “would it be okay if I ask more questions?” he laid his head on your lap and you started to stroke his messy hair “I feel like you would even if I say no”

“Good, now, you enjoy being in the position of women… correct?” Sigurd blushed again and let out a whine “what? I need to know or else I’ll keep running my mouth! You know me well Sigurd do you really want to risk it? Remember what happened to Hvitserk once he pissed himself when we were surrounded by the wolves? He didn’t answer my questions!” you defended, he chuckled a little “you ran after him for an entire week just to see if there’s anything else that scared him, I remember him breaking into tears eventually” you nodded “and when I figured out that Ivar was actually able to feel his legs?” he nodded “I see your point now”

“Then answer the damn questions!” he hid his face in his hands “fuck, yes I enjoy it, I like being under other men, Y/N, if you tell anyone about those things I swear to Odin I’ll fray you alive” you rolled your eyes and smacked his head, he winced and lifted himself up but you pushed him down again “I’m trying to save your arse here! Don’t you know that my curiosity can leak secrets? I’m trying to fulfill it to keep you safe!” he took a deep breath then nodded “speaking of arses, does it hurt?”

He groaned hiding again in his hands as if somehow it will keep him from your questions “it does if you do it wrong, the first time I did it hurt so bad, I even bled, Aslaug noticed the blood and wanted to take me to a healer and I had to lie and say I fell on a rock and cut my thighs, not that it felt any less painful, but then I figured out how to make it enjoyable rather than hurtful, all it took was oil” he said, giving in.

“Is my brother any good at it? Is it why you like him?” you asked, Sigurd breathed, hating his life “it’s not that, I like him, he’s good to me, he doesn’t make it feel like I’m committing a crime or as if it’s something wrong, he talks to me, not just try to fuck me, he’d stop if it gets uncomfortable, I trust him” you frowned a little, what was this supposed to mean, you caressed his hair softly “Sigurd, did other men not treat you well? Did they hurt you knowingly? Did they… Sigurd did they force themselves on you?” Sigurd opened his eyes wide and looked at you “Y/N, what are you trying to say? It’s impossible! I’m a man! I went with them! I asked them to do it to me, it’s not what you think!” he said nervously, you gave him a weak smile and placed a little kiss on his forehead “of course love” 

You didn’t feel like asking anything else, for his own sake, you didn’t want to be the one to tell him what actually happened between him and those terrible men, “is that’s all? Am I safe?” he mumbled after staying quiet for too long, you nodded “safe” you assured him, you hated how the chills filled the air, it fitted perfectly with the sad theme “I never had someone to talk with about boys before,” you told him “that’s ridiculous, you have Hvitserk and Ivar” you raised an eyebrow at him “Hvitserk who’d be like, I’m way hotter and Ivar who’d insult any other man and feel very offended if I even glance at one while with him?” Sigurd laughed.

“I suppose we can help each other out no?” you smiled and nodded “speaking of helping each other out, the Havardssons are washing in the waterfall, they both look like a sculpture of gods, you’re a friend of them no?” Sigurd nodded “then come on, let’s go join them, introduce me! And we can flirt with them or at least talk about their perfect bodies later when we’re alone!” you got up, his head fell to the ground.

The two of you raced down to the waterfalls where three hot boys were washing the dirt off of their bodies, their gears and underclothes were on the dry land, Sigurd introduced you to the men and you were able to enjoy the fascinating bodies of theirs from a closer view once you were in the water with them, you even ended up kissing one of the sons, that day you returned to the great hall giggling and laughing with Sigurd as the men winked at you, which wasn’t very pleasant for either Ivar nor Hvitserk.

Tags: (let me know if you want to be tagged) @youbloodymadgenius​ @lol-haha-joke​ @gearhead66​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @supernaturalvikingwhore

[lovingkaneko]

Ch.3: Addicted To You (Colt x MC)

Summary: Colt realizes that Ellie Wheeler has more to her than he thought.

Author Note: Wow, another chapter huh? I’m on a roll here, I hope you guys are keeping up with the story and enjoying it <3 Part two, Next part

Book: Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance | Choices: Stories You Play (AU)

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC | Ellie Wheeler

Word Count: ~1.8k

Rating: Mature (swearing, descriptions of sex)

She left soon after, telling me that she’ll come back when there’s a wider selection of cars. The one night stand had turned into two. I really didn’t expect myself to feel even slightly attached to her. But she did what she usually did and teased me to the very max, promising to return. From the second she drove off, I found myself already eager to see her again. The look on Logan’s face was extraordinary, for a week after our encounter, he was silent. He had not said a single word to me.

“Colt,” I heard someone call me as I was wiping down my bike with a rag. I turned to make eye contact with my dad.

“What?”

“I need you to come to my office,” He said seriously, motioning me to follow him. I tossed the rag onto the seat and trailed behind him. He sat down and I simply leaned against the wall with my arms crossed.

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve involved yourself with Ellie Wheeler in an unprofessional way,” My dad informed me, making my heart skip a beat.

“Pop--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” He sighed, “It’s not a big deal. Wheeler, himself, has feared that his daughter was throwing herself at his clients. You can stop this now and there’ll be no problem.”

I wish I could explain the fury that I felt in that moment, hearing someone refer to her as a whore... It made him shake with anger. 

“She’s not a slut, pops,” I scoffed.

“That wasn’t what I was saying, son. I’m just saying, it’s not the best idea to--”

“Well I don’t care, I’ll see whoever I want to,” I talked back, my voice raising.

“I understand what it’s like to meet a girl you... Find interest in. But, I’m afraid you’re getting too close to comfort. I won’t let you ruin yourself,” He explained calmly.

“Ruin myself?” My jaw clenched.

“I won’t have you fall in love with her!” My dad finally slammed his hands on the table with anger, “Do you know what love does to you?”

“I’m not--”

“Once is fine, temptation is a crazy thing. But to keep seeing her? You’re playing a risky game,” He said as he slowly composed himself.

I knew he was right and maybe that’s what pissed me off the most. I knew that hooking up with her constantly would drive me insane. Even though I had only seen her twice in the span of two months, she took over all of my thoughts. My journal was filled with pictures of her, at first, they were sexual. I would draw her body and the marks on her neck. But now, I found myself drawing her lips. I would draw her smile over and over, along with doodles of her pretty hands. My pops was on the right track, it would be best to get some space away from her. But, I didn’t want to.

“Why should I care about what you have to say? I’ll ruin myself if I feel like it, you haven’t been there for me before, why do you care now?” I spoke harshly before leaving his office and slamming the door.

At this point, I didn’t know if I would ever see her again. My pops would definitely not let me do anymore business when she’s involved. I had a chance to prove myself worthy to him and I fucked it up. Honestly, though, I didn’t care. I had worked too hard to prove myself, but now I didn’t want his goddamn approval. 

Toby was standing outside with his eyes wide open, I blinked slowly a few times to stop myself from knocking him out.

“You were listening?” I asked him with my eyes closed, trying to diffuse my anger.

“I-- Colt, are you alright?” 

“For fucks sake, I’m fine!” I yelled, feeling irritated by his question.

“I know who told him,” Toby said in a whisper.

“I can just guess who it was,” I snarled before making my way to the garage, knowing where to find that son of a bitch.

His eyes widened when he saw me stomping over to him, I punched him as hard as I could and he stumbled backward.

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?”

“It’s my job to inform my boss on anything threatening to the crew,” Logan said as he wiped blood from his mouth.

“And how is my business threatening to the crew?”

“Do you know what would happen if you fuck things up with her?” 

“I don’t need to know shit from you,” I retorted, fully aware of my actions, “You’re a nobody. I’ll be glad the day my pops finally gets rid of you.”

I climbed on my motorcycle, driving off without another word. The wind blew in my face and I squinted, regretting not wearing my helmet. I had one place in this world that calmed me down more than any other. After a few minutes of swerving through slow cars and having air burn my eyes, I finally made it to the spot. I parked my bike off to the side and exhaled slowly. 

I calmed down as I watched the waves crash, this cliff place being my safe place. I needed to collect my thoughts after everything that happened. My dad truly believed that I was falling in love, as if that would ever even-- It was just impossible. I just felt sexually attracted to this girl, our relationship would only consist of us casually fucking from time to time. I never even considered actually settling down with her.

Yet, the thought brought a stupid warmth to my chest. I hated to think of her as just a fuck toy, because that’s not what she is to me. She’s more. The loud ocean below me was relaxing me, bringing tranquility to my normally hostile being. There was a noise that distracted me, I was back and alert quickly. I looked around to make sure there was no one there. I could’ve sworn I heard an engine pass by, after a few moments, I decided that I was alone again.

“I definitely didn’t expect this to be the kind of place for you, Kaneko,” said a voice I recognized instantly, my mood lifting within seconds.

“Ellie?” I accidentally smiled at her appearance, she didn’t seem to be doing the best. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.

“You look terrible,” I said and she chuckled.

“Thanks for pointing it out, mind if I join you for a bit?” 

I felt a pinch in my heart and I nodded slowly, she sat at the very edge of the cliff with her feet dangling above the ocean, I took a seat beside her.

“I’m not supposed to be seeing you anymore,” She scoffed after a while and I turned to look at her, “My dad found out I’ve been hooking up with you. You’re safe, but I have to stay away from you.”

The words that came out of her mouth made me feel as if a dark cloud rained above me. She bit her bottom lip in concentration.

“But I can’t,” She whispered.

“You can’t what?” I asked sadly and watched as she breathed softly.

“I can’t stay away from you, Colt,” She finally said as if she had been holding it in, “I’m addicted to you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I was speechless.

“Stupid, I’m so stupid,” She placed her face in her hands in frustration. 

“Ellie--” I began to speak but cut me off.

“Don’t, please...” She exhaled shakily and began to get up to leave. Normally, I would’ve let her go, this was her problem and whatever she felt for me was completely childish and immature. But I understood her, because frankly, I was addicted to her too.

I managed to pull her back to me, pressing my lips to hers, taking her breath away. She placed her hands on my cheeks, deepening the kiss. After a few seconds, she pulled herself apart from me. 

“You don’t understand, Colt... The things my dad would do if this goes wrong--”

“I don’t care,” I said as my mind screamed insults at me, “Live in the moment, Ellie. It’s all we can do now.”

She looked angry, not at me, but at herself. She exhaled and nodded, “Fuck everyone else. I want you,” She whispered before kissing me again.

An hour passed and we simply enjoyed each other’s company, her head resting on my shoulder as we watched the sunset. This wasn’t sexual anymore, this was stupid. This was definitely not what I had planned.

“My dad doesn’t trust me,” She told me, breaking the silence, “He thinks that I’m not fit to run the crew. I had to prove myself to him, he wouldn't believe me otherwise. I’ve had to do stupid shit to make that man see me for what I am.”

“He thinks he needs to protect me, save me from this life. But I don’t need his protection, I know how to defend myself,” She spoke to me, but it seemed she was talking more to herself, “I’ve been his sweet little girl for too long. It’s hard, Colt,” She looked at me and her eyes watered, “I’m top of my class, I’m set to be valedictorian but that’s not enough for him to trust me.”

“Wait a second,” I raised my eyebrows in shock, “You’re still in school?”

She chuckled softly, “Yeah, crimes are just my side job.”

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Look, I know you probably don’t think of me as more than a girl you’ve fucked--”

“What?” I asked before she could finish her sentence, “Of course not.”

“I doubt you mean that,” She scoffed, looking off into the distance.

“Ellie, listen to me,” I placed my hand on hers, “I don’t care about people as much as I should. But I can’t help but feel something for you,” I confessed in a low voice, embarrassed.

“Holy shit,” She breathed, “Kaneko feels emotions?”

“Trust me, you’re just as shocked as I am.”

“It's best for us to not see each other, I know how stupid it is for us to be together,” She said, her voice trailing sadly.

“It is extremely stupid,” I acknowledged playfully, looking into the ocean below us.

“You may never believe it, but my dad’s a Christian, he thinks me having sex with you is against the laws of God,” She laughed softly.

“What can I say? We’re sinners,” I answered as I brought my lips to her neck and placed a gentle kiss to it.

“If being with you is a sin, then I’ll happily accept hell.”

Once again, she connected her mouth with mine again and that was all. Our clothes stayed on, yet, we were completely exposed to each other. We were stupid and vulnerable, but you would never catch me complaining. We parted ways after a few more hours of talking, there was so much more to Ellie Wheeler than I thought. 

[hiskillingjar]

Gagging for It

Relationship: Strade/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Emetophilia, Drunk Sex, Vaginal Sex, DFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Canon-Typical Violence. Length: 5000+ words

Summary: Strade’s always wanted a drinking buddy.  AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101672

You wandered down to the basement out of boredom and a desire for attention that you weren’t going to receive from anyone else, shivering from the cold and trying to ignore the faint smell of aged, coppery blood that had yet to be hosed away. The door to the study (well, what else were you going to call it?) was slightly ajar, and you could hear the faint sound of the television and Strade's gruff laughter from the other room.

You nudged the door open with the tip of your foot and peered inside curiously.

Strade was watching one of his previous stream recordings, depicting a young male victim that you didn't recognize who seemed to be getting a knife to the eye. The scrape and crunch of the knife's edge hitting bone, followed by a piercing scream, made you grimace and quickly look away. Unsurprisingly, Strade was just laughing to himself though, a dark brown bottle in his hand, the rim gently resting on his smiling lips. A dense smell of cheap, greasy takeaway filled the study and a couple of beer bottles littered the coffee table in front of him, which meant he was probably drunk, or at least quickly on his way to it.

"Hey, buddy!" Strade called over to you, and you jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound of his voice. He seemed happy to see you, though he was always happy to see you, and he patted the space on the sofa next to him. "You wanna watch the rest of this with me? We haven't even gotten to the good parts yet."

You frowned a little at his morbid suggestion, though that didn't stop you from taking him up on his offer and sitting with him, legs crossed and bored eyes blinking at the television screen. The man's face was damp with tears, blood and intraocular fluid, the mess of shredded skin and eyeball taking up the majority of the screen, and the screaming was a bit off-putting, but you couldn't help but detach a little, seeing the brutal torture as if it were just a scene in a grindhouse flick or something, at least like the ones Strade showed you. That detachment made it a little easier to stomach, you supposed.

It made it easier to deal with.

"You got anything other than beer?" You asked him as he took another swig from his bottle.

"You liked beer the first night we met." He replied with a wry smile and a curious tilt of his head that you scoffed and rolled your eyes at.

"I liked you more." You said with a shrug.

"Cute." He chuckled, turning his attention back to the television screen. The knife in the man’s eye was now being used to drag his face closer to an erect, blood slicked cock, and you couldn’t help but be vaguely intrigued at where this would go. "But no, just beer. Got plenty of it, though you might struggle to keep up~" He finished the end of the sentence with a sing-song quality to his voice, and perhaps that might have unnerved you at the beginning of your captivity, but however many months in, it just made you grin at the concept of a challenge.

"Fuck you, old man, I can drink you under the table." You insisted, sitting up a little.

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow at you, and the look on his face is attractive in a way that set a shameful fire in the pit of your stomach. You nodded, attempting to swallow past the sudden spell of dry mouth and his easy smile split into a sharp-toothed grin. "Alright, you're on. Just have to grab some more bottles from the basement fridge." He stood to his feet, giving you the rest of his bottle. "But I'll give you the chance to catch up a little first, ja?"

The bastard knew how much him speaking German got to you.

You nodded again, a little dumbly, and he gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder with an easy smile before leaving the study to get more promised bottles.

Maybe he was just glad to have someone to drink with.

You can’t imagine that Ren would be a very good drinking buddy.

You curiously eyed the dark liquid in the bottle for a second, swilling it around, wondering for a second if he was using this opportunity just to roofie you, before you thought “fuck it” and threw it back like a shot. You immediately grimaced at the bitter taste and tried to fight back the desire to retch.

Even during your rowdier university years, where you must have been drunk most nights, you had hated beer because of the awful, bitte taste and how weak it often was. And while this particular brand was just as foul as any other, right now, you were desperate and you probably weren't going to find any other kind of alcohol in this house.

So you would take what you could get.

You opened another one of his bottles and drank from it while you waited for him to come back. Idly watching the torture-porn (though more porn than torture at this point) on the screen like you would a horror movie at a party.

It's halfway into the second bottle that you remember you hadn't touched alcohol in nearly four months.

Fuck.

-

You’re about six drinks in when you finally stop complaining about how bad the beer tasted.

“Eins, zwei, drei! Getränk!”

You tipped your head back and threw half of your (now) seventh drink down your gulping throat like it was barely any effort, using the one skill that you had perfected during university for its true purpose, while Strade drunkenly and loudly cheered you on in a slurred mixture of English and German.

You had no idea how many drinks he was on at that point, but the flush on his cheeks and his enthusiasm and affection towards you had grown exponentially within the last hour or so.

So you could only guess he was about as drunk as you were.

You kept chugging at your drink for about twenty more seconds before finally slamming the empty bottle on the coffee table and holding your arms up in victory, unbothered by the trickle of warm beer down your chin.

“What was that, forty seconds?” Strade said with a low whistle, patting you on the back as you hacked uncomfortably at the taste. “That’s pretty impressive, buddy!”

“Mate, your taste in beer is absolute shit.” You mumbled, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and falling back into the soft cushions of the sofa. The alcohol had put a pleasantly familiar haze on your brain, and you couldn’t help but let a delirious string of giggles fall from your lips between each sentence. “Next time we do this, we’re getting something decent, alright?”

“Ja, ja, of course.” Strade agreed with a nod, taking a heavy gulp from his own drink, though he seemed to enjoy it for more than you did. You liked that he agreed there would be a next time. That, at least, meant he wasn’t planning on killing you any time soon. “I just get what I can also find in Germany.”

“Well, Germany has shit taste in beer too then.” You replied with another giggle.  

“What would you recommend?” He asked with a drunken smile, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge and affectionately pulling your heavy body to rest against his. He’s a lot more comfortable to lie against when he’s drunk, you thought.  

“I dunno.” You mumbled, letting your head loll back against his soft stomach. “When I was in uni, I just drank everything I could get my hands on. If it had alcohol, I was there.”

“Mm, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said softly, resting his bottle near your head.  

Even being as drunk as you were, you could still understand just how strange, if not disturbing this was. If someone saw you doing this, getting drunk, playing drinking games and singing songs, cuddling up to your captor, they'd think you were insane. And maybe you were a little, especially when you took such pleasure in being so close to him.

You let your head turn to face the television screen. His free hand drifted up to your ear and he gave your scalp a little scratch. It felt nice, and you keened against his touch with a sigh of pleasure.

In between the drinking chants and meaningless conversations, Strade had put another one of his tapes on in the background. This victim was a young woman, probably younger than you, with red hair and glasses. She was a little skinny but pretty looking in a subtle kind of way that you envied. A ring gag kept her mouth open while an off-camera Strade held an industrial-looking wood clamp to keep her tongue out. A familiar-looking drill whirred threateningly near her head, and she mumbled panicked pleas as it inched closer and closer to her drooling tongue.

You didn't look away. You didn't even blink.

"Were you going to do that to me?" You asked casually watching as blood and shredded muscle bubbled from the bloody wound and down her chin. The only off-putting thing was her sobbing, her screaming.

"I thought about it." He replied, just as casually and still scratching your scalp. Fingers subtly stroking through your hair. "But you made me feel something I hadn't before. It was..." He paused for a moment, looking for the right word.

"Interesting?" You offered.

"Compelling." He said instead as he took another drink from his bottle. "You intrigued me, and I wanted to see what else you could make me feel."

"Hm. Makes sense." You mumbled softly, letting your eyes drift shut as he kept petting your hair. The drunken haze on your brain made you enjoy his soft touches more than usual and filtered the screaming on-screen to be little more than background noise. A white fuzz in your fucked-up brain.

“But for what it’s worth.” He continued, and when you felt the brush of his lips against your ear, your body prickled with excitement, and the faintest hint of arousal burned a fire in the pit of your stomach. “Ich bin froh, dass ich dich behalten habe.”

You didn’t have the time to ask him what he said before you threw your arms around his neck and dragged him into a kiss.  

And though his body stiffened with surprise for the first few seconds of your intense affection, he quickly acclimated to the kiss. Pressing his fingers into your hair and effortlessly shifting both of your bodies so that he was straddling your hips and looming over the top of you.  

He tasted like the shitty beer you had been drinking all evening and an unidentifiable smoke flavour when his tongue pressed against yours, though you didn’t have the time to properly appreciate it when he was on top of you, pinning you down to the sofa, straddling your hips and pressing your groins together. Your clit was erect and aching underneath your thin shorts and had been for at least half the time you had been drinking with him, and even through the multiple barriers of fabric, you could feel how hard his cock was too.

Your mouth watered for it.

His level of intoxication made his kisses sloppy, too much saliva practically pooling down your chin, but for some sick reason, that just turned you on even more. His typical groping hands travelled up the front of your loose shirt, which had now been pushed up to your chin, kneading at your shuddering chest and toying with your piercings as he did it.

You managed to pull away from him for a breath which quickly turned into a sharp cry as he dipped his head and tongued at your nipples, taking the pert nub between his teeth and biting, hard. His hands went down to your hips and firmly groped your ass, pulling your body closer to his, trying to align your crotches together so he might give himself the stimulation he seemed so desperate for. His teeth teased the metal hoops as he took full advantage of just how sensitive the new piercings made you.

The rush of intense sensations, the pain and the pleasure, made you dizzy. All you could do was writhe underneath him, buck your hips and cry out as he kept biting, leaving more and more bites across your chest, claiming you for his own.

“Oh god, fuck!” You drawled with a needy whine. “Please-AH!” A bite on your collar bone made you cry out again. “Please, Strade, please…” Your begging words fell apart into a string of desperate whimpers. “Please, fuck me, I need it so fucking bad, please.”

“How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?~” He purred with a sick smirk, dragging his tongue over an especially bloody bruise that marked your skin.

He knelt up over you and roughly grabbed your hips, dragging your body down the sofa. He pushed a hand into his greasy hair with a breathless chuckle, looking down at you with an intense hunger burning in his amber eyes.

It’s so fucking attractive; you almost couldn’t stand it.  

You hurriedly pulled down your shorts and flung them to the side of your tangled bodies. You parted your thighs with a subtle but desperate jut of your hips. Wordlessly offering your body to him to do with as he pleased, begging for it in body language alone. He looked at you like a piece of meat, a wolf about to descend on his prey, and you were the rabbit who was foolish enough to consent to their capture. You could see his mouth water as he gazed at your body, and it offered you a faint sense of power over him, though you know that won’t last long.

“Köstlich.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear (and you knew what that one meant), licking his lips hungrily as his hands descended to your thighs. He ran an almost affectionate touch over the myriad of healing scars which drifted upwards with a harsh, red scratch towards the pre-cum smearing the inside of your thighs.  

You tipped your head back with a hiss of pain, clenching your teeth and your eyes shut, but they quickly snapped open again with a wordless gasp when he easily pressed two fingers inside of you.

“Already so wet.” He said, his voice somewhat soft but deeply arousing, though that softness was counteracted by the rough grip he had on your thighs and a punishingly deep thrust with his thick fingers that made your cunt clench tightly around him and a desperate groan lurch out your throat. “So easy for me to take, liebling.”

“So take me.” You replied, a drunken and deeply aroused edge to your voice as you looked at him, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with pleasure. “I’m yours, so just...take me. Please.” Your own shaking breaths of pleasure matched up with the shuddering sobs of the girl on the television screen, and you couldn’t help but feel smug that you were alive and she was dead.  

Because you were his, and he would never take someone else the way he did you.

He grinned fervently as he pressed a third finger inside of you, easily thrusting them in and out as the pad of his thumb teased your twinging clit. The burning pleasure made your brain race even more than the alcohol had, and you sat up to desperately fist his shirt, pulling it open and dragging it down his freckled shoulders as you caught his lips in a hungry kiss.  

Strade accepted the kiss with an eager groan against your lips, deep and dangerous and so perfectly masculine, and he removed his fingers roughly, wiping them on his trouser leg to hurriedly yank his shirt off.  

His black undershirt was sleeveless and showed off his muscled arms, perfectly defined from years of physical labour and strenuous activity. Your hands descended down his arms, indulgently relishing in his warm, tan skin and every swell of muscle, delicately tracing the tattoo on his left bicep. You allowed yourself some moments to marvel at his body, to properly enjoy just how handsome he was, as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, tugging them down with his boxers and exposing his hard, weeping cock as it grazed against your thigh.

He bit your lower lip and tugged at it, letting out an eager growl before he pressed his tongue between your lips and pushed himself deep inside your tight heat.  

Drunk sex was different from sober sex in a myriad of ways.

Already you could tell that drunk sex was faster, more erratic and less thoughtful, but surprisingly, a lot less painful. Drunk sex was for a single satisfaction, after all, while sober sex had to scratch every one of Strade's itches. And if one of those itches was sadistically inclined, that would have to be thoroughly scratched.

It’s very similar too, of course.

He was as rough with you as ever, forcing your legs to your chest as he pushed deeper into you, barely giving you room to think about each sensation. One strong hand drifting to your neck so he could see you struggle to breathe, could watch you gasp on his name, your begs and pleas for more. Mumbling slurred praise and violent dirty talk in between thrusts and drunken hiccups.

But there wasn't a knife waiting to be pulled out, no video cameras blinking in the corner, no twisted mind games or broken promises.

It was just the two of you, taking advantage of one another, in a frenzy of arousal and desperation.

You thought that idea fit you both perfectly.

With a particularly ruthless thrust, he had buried himself deep inside you when a barely-there heave slipped from his lips, between the drunken hiccups and slurs of English and German. You opened your eyes to see that his thrusting had stilled and he had allowed his head to hang slightly, his long, tangling hair covering his sweating face.

"Strade..." You managed to say. "You okay?"

"'S just gas escaping..." He mumbled though he didn't sound very sure of himself.

Then he heaved again, which was followed by a retch and a barely suppressed burp that made his entire body shudder. A hand quickly went up to his face as he retched again, a strange noise of nervous apprehension at the back of his throat falling from his lips before he had the chance to notice. It’s a weirdly vulnerable gesture and sound from him and you can’t deny that it’s appealing in a sadistic kind of way. It was at that point that you attempted to sit up, and ask what was wrong again.

You couldn't even blink before he vomited down your front.

You managed a disgusted shout of outrage as you attempted to wriggle away from him, though his hold on your body was as firm as ever. The vomit was thick and almost heavy, both in sensation and scent, since it smelled of fowl beer and half-digested take out. The greasy feel of it clung to your skin and despite how still you were trying to be, it dripped down every sensitive area of your body and each of your shuddering curves.

You cringed, looking down at your shaking stomach now painted in puke, trying to suppress the urge to vomit yourself.

"Ha!" Strade's bark-like laugh snapped you out of your disgust momentarily, and you looked up to see a typical sharp-toothed grin spread on his face, any kind of vulnerability he’d had before quickly shaken off. Though this grin was smeared with vomit, and a vile string of bile and thick saliva trailed down his stubbly chin and to his hairy chest. You had no idea how he could stand something so disgusting. "Can't say I've ever done that before."

“Let me up." You said firmly, glaring at him, though all he did was smirk at your anger and rock his hips a little, pressing himself deeper inside of you, since he was still as hard as he was before, for whatever reason. It felt good, of course it did, but that didn't get rid of the fact that you were still absolutely covered in his vomit. "S-Strade, I mean it." Your voice had lost a bit of its edge though, and your quivering lip wasn’t going to be intimidating anyone soon.

"Ah, liebling~" Strade drawled drunkenly in an almost affectionate way, bringing his flushed face close to yours. You could smell the sour scent of sick on his breath and it made your stomach clench. "All the things I've done to you. All the times I’ve made you scream, made you bleed...and this is where you draw the line?" He grinned again and the vomit-saliva mix on his chin dripped down your chest, making your body lurch underneath his. He chuckled at the outraged look you gave him, and the hand now slick with vomit and drool came up to roughly cup your chin, squeezing your cheeks and keeping your head still as he brought his face closer. "No, I don't think so."

He kissed you hard, his tongue immediately pressing between your lips, and you're forced to taste the vile, acidic remnants of bile and vomit on his lips, his tongue. You squirmed and wriggled underneath him, trying to shove him away, but your refusal and the way you fought back against him seemed to only excite him more, as he started to thrust in and out of you again, with a new kind of vigour.

The combined sensation of the crushing kiss and his tongue in your mouth, and the aching stretch of your cunt around his thick cock made you moan involuntarily against his lips. You could hear every one of his pleased sounds too, as he fucked into you harder, pressing your chests together and coating himself in his own vomit.

It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up, but you can’t deny how arousing it is knowing that he’d fuck you, even when you were covered in vomit and when you smelled like shit.

You could feel your cunt clench tight around him as the burning shame in the pit of your stomach made you moan even louder against his kiss. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, and, dizzy with sickening pleasure, you allowed yourself to press your fingers into his tangling hair and let him fuck you as he wanted.

It’s sick. He’s sick. But you’re so much worse for wanting it so bad that it ached.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your clenching toes into his back, and his hands go down to roughly grope your hips. He scratched deep, red lines down your skin as he bit at your lips, so hard that you could taste the blood from your split lip coating both of your tongues. You wonder, for maybe a second, if Strade had plans to cover you in any more of his fluids, but the shameful twinge that idea gave to your clit quickly puts it out of your mind.

One fucked up fetish at a time.

The sickly, sour smell of Strade’s vomit now permeated the room, so much so that it was almost tangible, much like the continued screams of the stranger on the television that seemed to perfectly align with both of your shuddering moans and gasps. You’re sure that the Pavlovian link between sex and violence for you had its roots in something fucked up and Freudian, but when you were half-drunk, stuffed with cock and covered in the vomit of a man you should have hated but probably loved, you couldn’t really examine why you were so aroused that it was causing you actual, physical pain.  

Strade pulled away from the kiss momentarily, drooling a vile mixture of blood, bile and saliva over your gasping lips with a slack tongue and a dangerously eager look in his eyes. Just looking at him do it was enough for you to clench tighter around him, your greedy cunt taking his cock like it was what you were born to do, but seeing his eyes roll back in pleasure, his jaw drop and the shaking moan fall from his lips is what pushed you even closer towards your edge.

You dug your sharp nails into his shoulders and dragged them down his back, underneath his undershirt, listening to his hiss of pain. His skin was so warm, even slightly damp with sweat, and the reminder that he was there, that you could touch him, that he chose you over everyone else was so overwhelming that you had to bury your face into his shoulder to stop yourself from drunken admissions of love.  

The pain you inflicted seemed to have only encourage to fuck you harder, faster, and deeper. He groped your ass hard, digging his fingers into the soft flesh, before he effortlessly pulled you into his lap so that you were kneeling over him, riding his cock as he fucked into you. You matched his jutting hips by pressing down on him, gasping and swearing into the crook of his shoulder as you got closer and closer to climax. Coagulating vomit dripped down your stomach and into his lap, staining his trousers, and you couldn’t help but be a little satisfied that he was now as messy as you were.  

“So good, so good…” You mumbled like a mantra against Strade’s lips. He brought your foreheads together, a sticky hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered you with a slick smirk.

You did as you were told, and he immediately pressed two fingers down your throat, with a roughness that immediatly makes you heave. When you tried to pull back from him, he gripped your hair with his free hand and keeps your head still with a (frankly) arousing amount of strength. He pressed his fingers further, against your tongue, the back of your throat, your bobbing tonsils, and whispered words of encouragement through a kind smile.

You tried, desperately, to swallow around his fingers, blinking streaming tears out of your eyes, and filling the room with disgusting heaves and retches. But it’s only another minute or so of uncomfortable gagging before you’re vomiting down his front, staining his skin like he had done to you. A thick string of saliva and bile hung from your lips, and the sight of it was enough to make you puke again.

“Ah…wunderschönen~” A manic smile came to his face as he continued to breathlessly fuck into your shaking, sweating body, his smile only getting wider as he listened to your heaving sobs, your whimpers and whines for a moment to adjust and breath that he wasn’t going to give you. But for some reason, neither your discomfort or the sudden wave of nausea and dizziness that washed over your brain did anything to diminish your own aching arousal, and you felt yourself clench even tighter around his pounding cock.

“Finish inside me.” You mumbled feverishly, letting your head droop down and rest your forehead against his, and it feels even better when he lets you have that ounce of affection. “Please. Want it. Want it so fucking bad...”

“So filthy, liebling.” He crooned, in a way that’s almost comforting, and you couldn’t help the delirious little giggle that slipped from your lips as a response. If he thought that was filthy, what did he think about the two of you spewing your guts all over each other? Maybe that’s what affection was to him. “But if that’s what you want…”

He gripped your thighs roughly, pressing himself deeper inside of you and filling you with a few final rough thrusts that you attempted to move in time with, though to little success. Your drunken body seemed to have finally caught up with your mind, so you could mostly just cling onto him as he fucked you sloppily like a well-used sex doll, using your aching, stretched hole however he pleased.

Shit, even that fucked up train of thought was making your clit twinge. You doubted that you would need any help getting off when your brain was still so active.

He tensed up a little underneath you, enough that it was noticeable, but he quickly buried his face into your shoulder before you questioned it. Harshly biting down on the flesh in an attempt to suppress a throaty (and incredibly attractive) groan as he came inside of you, claiming your insides like he had claimed your outside. The feeling of him filling you so beautifully distracted you from the burning pain of the bleeding bite on your shoulder.

Funnily, it’s when he slowly pulled out of you, running a teasing finger over your burning clit and so easily sliding it inside of your cunt, plugging you full of the cum that was already leaking out of you, that you finally reach climax yourself. An arched back, a gasp of his name, your nails dug deep into his shoulders and back.  

And then the entire fucked-up affair was over.

The two of you inelegantly detangle from each other and fall back onto the sofa together, mostly naked, sweaty and covered in more of each other’s bodily fluids than you ever wanted to be.

“I knew you were interesting,” Strade mumbled breathlessly with a low chuckle, stroking through your hair affectionately.

“I thought I was compelling.” You replied with your own huffed laugh, keening up against his touch.

“Intriguing.” He offered instead with a smirk. “At least I know why I kept you now.”

You’d take that.  

You curled up against him, desperate for his attention, and he pulled you into his arms, resting his stubbly chin against your head and pressing his nose into your sweaty hair. It's almost a kiss. He mumbled sweet words to you, so quiet that you can barely hear him over your own heaving breaths, and you drifted off into an easy slumber to the sound of his voice, totally enveloped in him.  

You couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.  

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Blood, tears and sea breeze.

Hi there! First things first, I want to apologize for the long time that has gone by since an update, I am truly sorry. I would explain, I am a doctor and I work in a rural area, we had a nasty Dengue virus outbreak and we had a lot of patients, so I was buried in job, we had no mortal victims thankfully, but it was insane. Also I get the Dengue myself and it was awful, but I feel better now and everything is going back to normal, here is a new chapter to this story I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Like a sleepover.

Alec parked his car near the church and cursed himself when he realized his mistake since his presence confirmed to the reporters that something or someone interesting was inside, when he approach the benches he could se Paul who was lecturing a woman with an angry tone that he had never listened before, neither have the old lady in front of him since she looked terrified at him.

"Don't come here acting innocent, the lord knows when your motives are driven by greed and I truly hope whatever you use the money they gave you is worth it, and don't you dare to blame it on your grandchildren since they don't need to have this terrible example from their grandmother" He was obviously restraining from using more harsh language but the anger on his face was enough to make his point clear, and Alec even stop himself from storming in. "Now go away Mrs Campbell, and I hope you would think about your actions when you go out and talk with that people" The woman went out walking rapidly and visibly shaken.

"I was under the deception that priests never get mad" the detective enter the room and Paul gesture relaxed immediately. "Although is rewarding seeing you act out like that"

"Well they do when their congregation sell out each other for money" He said fixing up his clerical collar and regaining composure. "I'm glad you are here, it's madness out there, this town I thought they were better than this"

"Well you choose a profession full of disappointments" Y/N voice came from the altar and she approached now wearing what Hardy asume were donated clothes to big for her making her look like a child, and he brushed away the endearing feeling bursting in him for a second "For what is worth you should be more like that, maybe seeing the personification of the wrath of God in your face would make them listen" She said touching his arm making him smile, a stupid smile in Hardy's opinion. "D. I. Hardy, I was not expecting to see you so soon, but I assume you are not here to tell me I can go home already" She said with a pinch of hope in her voice that was killed the instant Alec look at her.

"No, I'm afraid not, and since you staying here has already been released to the media within four hours you can't longer stay here." He said trying to think what to do next.

"Yeah, and Ellie's ... I mean D.S. Miller's nephew certainly did a number on me didn't he?" She said bitterly, she appear more calmed, and he could see a glimpse of the woman who's thoughts he had spend the morning reading.

"That bloody idiot, he would sell out his own mother for a "good story" and he always think he is doing the police a favor, only making our job more difficult" Alec was angry and his mind was still trying to figure out his next move.

"Well now I'm glad I never dated him." Y/N said trying to lighten up the mood. "I can stay at the Trader's I can pay for that for a couple weeks, I would hate to cause more trouble"

"I don't think you should stay that close to Jonathan's house" Pauld said getting ahead of Hardy "Maybe Beth can take you, just for the night at least" He said and then look at Hardy.

"Sure, I mean if she agrees" He said knowing she will since they had been in a similar situation before.

"Great! If you think you can trust Lizzie's family to murderous psychopath, it'll be just like a sleepover" Y/N said sarcastically making both men feel uncomfortable. "I'm kidding? You guys really need to relax" She said looking at them "Now how am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I may have an idea" Hardy said finally with his expression still as stoic as ever.

Ellie stormed in her sister's house and the young man working o his laptop stood up immediately trying seeking cover behind the kitchen table.

"You bloody bastard!" She screamed at him and she grabbed the closest thing to her

"He hey hey... relax" He said putting his hands in front of him, she throw the ceramic fruit to his head. "Hey you almost hit me!" He screamed when she missed and the pear shattered in pieces.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Ellie scream again "Don't you have any decency left since you came back? That poor woman you have signaled as a suspect is not even at the police station anymore you moron."

"What? But you take her in for questioning, and she was covered in blood... and..." Olly realized his mistake and start looking at his aunt with sorrow, he was not about to betray his source but he understood that he had done something wrong "Damn it Ellie I'm sorry, I thought it was legitimate information"

"Well it doesn't matter anymore, once again I'm going to clean up your mess, come by the station we are going to release an official statement about Norbury's death and maybe it will help to clear out this mess" She was being reasonable, more than he can hope for since he was sure she was still pissed.

"And the woman? If she is not at the station where is she?" He jump straight back at the subject annoying Miller.

"Too late for you, didn't you hear? There is a horde of reporters raiding the church to talk to her" She smile at him, happy to see he didn't know, and hoping that Hardy had taken care of that end.

Paul came out of the church and a small figure covered jump in the car with him and he drove past the reporters who immediately try to follow him and some even did on their own vehicles, maybe when they figured he was just going out to get the paper and some groceries with the help of a boy that was being punished for misbehaving at school, would they realized their mistake, and how they didn't pay attention to the pair of people that walked from the back of the church to the Latimer's house.

"So, did you talk to Dr. Florence?" Y/N asked when the garden of the Latimer's was in sight "Oh come on, they can't no longer see us" She urged him when he gave her another of his angry looks.

"I did, but I am not supposed to discuss any of the investigation with you" He said finally.

"Fine, I'm sure she was pleased to see you again" She said and smiled at his puzzled face "I have seen you in her office before, and I overhear the last time you were there, you made a big deal about not wanting to come back"He looked ashamed and open the fence of the backyard to avoid her look "Relax I won't tell anybody, no one will listen anyway, I'm crazy remember? We can still be therapy buddies" She wink at him and enter followed by the baffled detective.

"Oi! I thought she was supposed to escape the press, come inside before any of those idiots will see you" Mark Latimer called them and they hurry inside.

"Mrs. Latimer, I don't know how to thank you"Y/N said once they were inside.

"It's nothing, Chloe's room is clean and free since she is at Uni, you can take it, can you show it to her dear?" Mark nodded and they walk out of the kitchen and Hardy could see her holding on to Lizzie a little more than usual.

"I wouldn't bring her here if I felt she was in any way guilty you know" He said to her and her arms relaxed a little.

"Well you can never be completely sure. But if you trust her we would help you for as long as we can."

"Don't worry, I just need her to have a place for the night we will figure something else tomorrow" He said and a couple minutes later he walked out of the house to get back his car. Ellie had the press release almost done by the time he arrived at the station and the sun was setting on Broadchurch.

"Busy day huh?" She said offering a cup of coffee "Brian is finishing with the house but he said he found something interesting about the cottage, he will tell us later, are you ready for the press."

"I'm fine, I swear Miller this bloody town is fill with idiots, this woman just lost her fiance and they are making all this circus about it" he sit on his chair and let go and exasperated sigh. "Let's get this over with".

It was as simple message, a man have been found dead and the police was investigating several lines of information, they had no idea who had done such monstrosity, and they urged the public to speak up, and no they were not considering the partner of the victim as a suspect, yet the mind of one of the many souls watching said, and turn off the telly, before exiting the room carrying a purple suitcase with the name Jonathan Norbury on it.

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