First Lottie, Then Van, Then Mari, Now The Fucking Pope. When Will The Horrors End.

MACKINNON MY GOAT

no goggles mark likes being choked while you ride him. that’s it.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ he lets out these little giggles and has that stupid sadistic grin plastered on his face, and god he’s so impossibly hard. He keeps telling you to squeeze his neck harder, while your losing yourself on his cock.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ and although he knows you couldn’t harm him even if you tried and wanted to, he still gets off to it.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ to him, there’s literally no better feeling than your hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing as tightly as you possibly could, as urged you to squeeze tighter, until he struggled to breathe.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ he’s just a sick freak LMFAO.

ʚoɞ

NSFW CONTENT BELOW

he’s such a hard worker. he’s got to get this flavor just right, has to keep making adjustments so you’ll absolutely love it. he’s so focused, and there’s a certain determination to him. his hands were sticky and sugary when he wrapped them around your waist. it’s cute to see him try to be so careful about touching you, trying his best not to get sugar everywhere. he’s got some of it on his apron. it got on your skin too, but you don’t mind.

he pulls away just for a moment, and you’re able to watch his face this time. his face is flushed, sugar and white chocolate staining his lips and face. his lips look so pretty, his cheeks are soft pink, and his eyes are hazy. “gotta get it just right.” he manages to say before he’s diving back in again to get another taste.

your soft thighs jerk against his cheeks, and it doesn’t help that he’s also being so sloppy. the way he’s licking and kissing is rough, like he has no idea the effect he’s having on you. he’s so focused and desperate to get the taste right.

he grips your thighs just slightly tighter, his fingers sinking into the skin hard enough to leave little indents, he seems to be getting into a rhythm, his face pressing between your thighs, his mouth so eager and messy. like he doesn’t know how hard you’re clenching, how you can barely keep your thighs open, or how you’re trying to stop all those pretty sounds from leaving your mouth. a long, shaky exhale drags out of your throat, soft and breathy as you cum. your thighs jerking and your fingers curling into the mess of his hair, gripping the tangled curls without thinking. he pulls away, his cheeks flushed and his face a mess with the sweet combination of sugar and you.

his voice is a soft whine when he speaks. and he’s still gently massaging your legs, just wanting to touch you but also trying not to leave a trail of sugar and chocolate all over you. “good?” was all he asked. the softest little syllable, and he already made it sound so pleading.

a shaky sound came out, "uh-huh", barely more than a breath. he smiles at that, his expression turning sweet and soft the moment you show any signs of approval. he loves you, just so much, and he can’t ever get enough of hearing you say you’re satisfied. he pushes himself up just a little more to rest his head on your stomach, letting the top of his head just barely touch your chest, before he lets out a content sigh.

“yeah?” he asks, but you can hear that it isn’t really a question, he also starts writing down some things in his notebook, writing down certain flavors, how you tasted, to get this chocolate perfect.

ʚoɞ

a/n: this is my first ever time writing x reader smut lmao neverrr thought it would be willy wonka but timothee..... mhm mhm mhm

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the wind in the desert is not quiet. it howls through bone and ruin. it sings of forgotten blood and shattered names. paul has stopped pretending to sleep. the wind keeps him company. so do the ghosts.

he walks the edge of the ridge, cloak dragging behind him like the shadow of a future he no longer wants. fremen eyes watch from the rocks, but they do not follow. they know he walks into something only he can name. he finds feyd there, as he knew he would — standing where the sand meets stone, where the cold creeps up through the soles of their boots like warning. the last harkonnen. the beautiful knife. the mirror with a smirk.

"you’re late," feyd says, though neither of them agreed to meet. paul looks at him, and it feels like looking into the center of a storm.

"or maybe you were early."

feyd snorts, fingers flexing at his sides, like he’s itching for a blade but knows better than to draw.

"maybe we were always here."

──

their first fight ends in silence. not because it isn’t violent. it is. it’s everything. a storm of movement and breathless calculation. sand kicked up in flurries. blades kissing too close to skin. but it ends not with blood, not yet. it ends when feyd’s knife is pressed to paul’s neck, and paul’s hand is buried in feyd's hair, tugging his head back with just enough control to make it dangerous. they’re breathing hard. they’re too close.

"this isn’t how you kill a messiah," paul whispers.

"this isn’t how you fight one," feyd answers, and neither of them move. the blade doesn’t cut. the hand doesn’t release.

──

at night, they fall into the sand like it’s the only place they belong. the fremen sleep in a circle behind them, pretending not to notice. or maybe pretending not to care.

"you think this ends with one of us dead," feyd says, staring up at the stars that don’t blink. "but i think it already ended, long before we met."

paul turns his head. "how poetic of you."

"fuck you."

pause.

"you ever wish you'd never been born into this?"

paul doesn’t answer for a long time.

"every day."

"yeah. me too."

they lie in silence. it stretches between them like a wound.

──

there is blood, eventually. of course there is. you don’t put two blades this close without drawing something red. but it’s not a deathblow. not yet.

feyd bites his lip until it splits, staring down at paul after another fight that ended in stalemate and bruises. "you want me to kill you, don’t you?"

paul says nothing.

feyd drops the knife. it thuds against the sand like a heartbeat. he steps closer. waits for resistance. it doesn’t come.

"you want to see if i’ll be the one to do it. take the crown off your head. end the prophecy. end you."

paul looks up, eyes glowing like he swallowed the sun.

"i want to see if you can stand to look at me and still be human."

feyd flinches.

──

when they kiss, it’s not soft. it’s not gentle. it’s not sweet. it’s a warning. they bite. they bleed. they hold each other like dying men who’ve forgotten how to pray. paul tastes like dust and fear and something ancient. feyd tastes like fury, like burning, like something broken pretending it never was.

they do not speak after. they lie in the silence.

paul’s head rests on feyd’s shoulder. feyd’s fingers twitch against paul’s ribs, like he’s not sure if he wants to hold him or crack him open.

──

"i dreamed of a future where we killed each other," paul says one morning, voice quiet, like confession.

feyd lights a smoke, eyes hooded. "sounds like a happy ending."

"i died with your name in my mouth."

feyd freezes.

he exhales, slow. "was i the one who killed you?"

paul doesn’t answer.

and in that silence, feyd closes the space between them again. not like a lover. like an ending. like a war that forgets it was ever made of men.

a/n: eww i hate this. something about tumblr just makes my writing like twenty times worse. it doesn't help that i'm having the worst hangover of my life while i wrote this..

nathans life after jail would be chaotic mess (bro still has scrawny ass, something that will never change)

kate's future daughter, someone stuck gum in her hair during the school bus ride, the cycle of bullying goes on and on-

her daughter will be reminded of her own past i think it would be brutal to see her child go through the same pain she suffered

shed probably go with "i do understand more than u know" and wont bring up her ugly past bcs her daughter still too young to understand so she'll just comfort her instead

my kokoro is itai :(

RESIDENT EVIL

𓂃 ࣪˖༉‧₊˚.

CHRIS REDFIELD

𓂃 ࣪˖༉‧₊˚.

H.U.N.K

okay i'm starting the new tlou episode literally right after watching dead city. today has been insane in terms of shit to watch

i cant stop thinking about heavyyyy masochist nogogglesvincible like i already know that man LOVES getting slapped and degraded and it just turns him on even more. god i need that freak 🙂‍↕️

oh absolutely. this freak is definitely a switch all the way through. him and his version of reader have a weird relationship that nobody bothers to question. it started out as hate fucking at first, and then it turns into reader being the only one he can get it on with. it’s an unusual attachment, really, like a stray cat latching onto a random stranger and following them around. it’s not sweet. . . but it’s not all hate either. whenever he tops, he likes to admire the scratches left on his shoulders and back in the mirror. when he bottoms, he eggs them on to choke him, bite at him, curse him while his eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling. he is such a LOSERRR UGH

SHE BROKE THE GOLF CLUB???

I NEED TO BE SHOT 😂😂😂😂😂