#( isaac answers. )

[aurorangen]

Guilt consumed Vincent whenever he lied to Renee. Vincent thought it was risky to let her know about investigating the secret basement with Isaac. She'd want to help and that meant gathering unwanted attention from the police and the media. When they arrived, Vincent sat there in his car, shoulders slumped. He tried to think. He strained to think. But seeing his childhood home only triggered traumatic events from his past, obscuring all his plans for the day.

"Isaac…I don't think I'm ready today," he said, hiding the tremor in his voice. "It's okay, we can take our time to solve it," Isaac had his own nerves seeing Vincent's childhood home; they were facing the unknown after all. "I'm ready whenever you are."

[sundrop-writes]

you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.

you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?

i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰

if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie 🩷

This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for

My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!

What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.

Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.

Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)

Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.

He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.

You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.

To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.

When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.

"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."

"I thought I was your weakness?"

"No. You're my strength."

Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.

It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."

It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.

Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.

Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.

He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?

After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.

Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.

The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.

You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.

And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.

"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."

From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.

Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.

Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.

He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.

"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.

This was really real. He had you.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.

"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."

"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."

"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."

An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.

"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.

"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."

"I could... help you put it on now?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.

From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.

Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.

One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.

The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.

One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.

When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.

And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.

So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[hunting-for-sport]

one of my favorite instances of teen wolf throwing in random narrative shit that happens entirely off screen is that scene at the end of season 2 that implies that isaac spent the entire summer between s2 and s3 stuck working to find/keep track of the alpha pack with not only derek, but also with peter, because can you imagine what like 2 months of cooperation between that cataclysmic trio of characters would be like, imagine you're like 16 years old and it's your summer break and you have to spend it getting dragged around by your 20-something de facto guardian and his pathological freak of an uncle looking for some group of ultra powerful supernatural dickheads when you probably have like, summer reading you're supposed to be doing for your english class, i'd leave derek's ass after that too

[female-hysterics]

Waking up with Steven in between your thighs though-

Listen...I fully believe that the second you start getting intimate with Steven it's like you've unleashed a beast.

I think he would quickly grow needy and almost addicted (until he gets used to it) to the pleasure he gets from your body. He has a lot of pent up desires so he is definitely on you whenever he can. Of course, he would also grow desperate for your pleasure as well, and would give you orgasm after orgasm until you are a shaking crying mess.

So, waking up with Steven between your thighs isn't that uncommon.

He would love to go down on you and he would happily spend hours licking between your thighs while palming himself. So when you wake up to him settled between your spread thighs you know you're not going back to bed anytime soon.

Steven has an almost dazed expression when you finally drag him from your soaking pussy after your third orgasm, like he's unaware of what's going on even though he was just growling filthy praise against you, and your entire body is trembling and jerking from the constant overstimulation. You would beg him for a break and he would simply nod while kissing you breathless before trailing those sweet loving kisses back down your body.

"Just one more, yeah? Give me one more and then I'll fill you with something better than my tongue, love."

And you are helpless to do anything but obey his soft urging and hungry touches.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hi, i saw you're accepting asks, if its ok, can i ask alucard and isaac with a s/o who has very little pacience/tolerance/ regarding men? (they are a special case)

Alucard finds it odd that out of all the people in the world, and men, that they have chosen him. But he appreciates it.

It feels sometimes that no one chooses him; which may be just compounded in his thoughts but is still how he feels.

He does find it amusing when men try to talk to them and his partner will not give them the time of day. Looking at them like the mud on their shoes. Only to brighten up like a fresh morning flower when he is around.

He has tried to ask where this animosity to his sex has come from, but they refuse to answer. And Alucard doesn’t want to push because, with how terrible the world is, he doesn’t want to know.

Isaac has very little patience for people as well, so they make a good pair.

Besides his night creatures, Isaac cares for no one else in the world but them (and maybe Dracula).

The rest of the world can burn. A sentiment that they both share.

It is also nice to have someone to stand up for him, as they will always stand directly in front of any insult thrown at him and give it right back. To have someone who loves him and would fight for him is a great gift.

[animentality]

sometimes i read stories about the creepy things astarion fangirls have subjected neil newbon to, despite him asking them like, outright to stop sexualizing him as a person just bc he voices astarion, and i shudder because some of y'all should have been raised catholic like i was.

then maybe you'd know some fucking shame.

edit: I must clarify this is a joke because no one should be raised Catholic. but some of y'all do need to be punished. biblically.

[eyelessfaces]

canon!poe or hmu!poe with a reader who's... very ill. like flu ill. like concerningly ill, who doesn't want to go to the doctor because they don't wanna hold anyone up or the costs. pls I beg I need a man to take care of me rn (very very ill myself) ilysm 😭🙏

I got you. canon poe

—

You almost think you’re hallucinating the presence in the room and the dip in the mattress behind you, until you truly feel a hand settling at the back of your head, gently smoothing along your hair. Poe cringes with guilt when he hears the faint whine escaping you. “Hey,” he gently calls, and you feel the warmth of his hand now moving to rest at your back, just in between your shoulder blades. 

Having to open your eyes seems like the toughest thing you’ve had to do in ages, and the heaviness in your forehead that comes with it feels like a cruel punishment of being alive and not succumbing to sickness.

Your mouth is dry, your lips chapped from having to breathe through your mouth because of your congested nose, so the weak sound that comes out of you to make Poe know you’re conscious almost sounds like a starving, water deprived creature giving its last breath. “I withdrew from today’s mission” he declares, his voice soft, like anything louder might kill you.

His words make you turn to him as fast as your aching body will allow. “Why?” you croak out. “No, you need to–”

He shushes you, shaking his head. “That’s fine” he assures. “Someone needs to look after you”

You try to sit up with difficulty, a gravelly cough shaking your whole body. “I don’t–”

“You look awful, sweetheart” he says, weakly smiling in empathy as you cough some more. 

“Thank you” you groan sarcastically once your body allows you to talk again. Poe shifts to sit closer to you, his hand coming to press against your forehead. His palm feels warm, an obvious contrast to the chill that has settled in your bones since the fever took hold of you, and you lean into his touch despite yourself, the simple gesture offering a glimpse of the comfort and tenderness you desperately crave from him. 

“You’re burning up,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. His brows are knitted together in concern, his thumb rubbing along your temple before he pulls away. The tenderness in his eyes as he watches your poor state is almost too much to bear, and you’re almost embarrassed he has to see you like this.

“You didn’t have to skip on the mission just because of me” you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile, your attempt at sounding nonchalant quickly dismantled when the truth bleeds and your voice cracks. You want him here, and that terrifies you more than sickness ever could.

“Of course I did” he murmurs, his voice low as his hand covers your own. “You think I could focus out there knowing you’re like this?”

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he’s being an idiot, but the words die in your throat when you start to choke on coughs again. Poe is instantly at your side, his hand leaving your own to support your back, the other grabbing the glass of water at your bedside table. 

“Easy,” he says, his voice soft as he helps the glass to your lips. You’re almost sure that the shiver that runs down your spine when his hand rubs up and down your back has nothing to do with the fever. 

When you finally pull back and he sets the glass back at your bedside, you find him watching you intently again, his warm brown eyes gazing at you like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever seen. It’s overwhelming, the weight of it, the want in his eyes that mirrors your own.

“You need to go to the medbay” he declares with his ‘commander tone’, as you like to call it whenever he suddenly gets a little too serious.

You groan, burying yourself down your bed again. “I’m fine, I just need to sleep it off” you mutter, pulling the covers up to your chin as you turn to the side, away from him. 

“You need medicine, I saw you almost fainting mid briefing, this is serious” he counters, though his voice remains low as to not worsen the unbearable pulsing inside your skull. “You need to get checked up and treated” he declares firmly. You whine in discontentment at the mere idea of having to get out of bed and drag yourself through the base, and Poe calls your name like he’s scolding you. “I’ll drag you here myself if I have to.”

You chuckle. “I’d like to see you try”

“You know I will.”

You sigh deeply, bringing a hand over your eyes. “Poe, please, I don’t wanna argue with you,” you whimper, burying your face into the pillow.

“Then don’t”

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you, so the silence stretches until you eventually hear him sigh and feel the mattress dip closer behind you when he shifts closer.

“Look at me” he demands gently, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm as he tries to coax you into reason. He knows how to play this out, he knows you ultimately can’t refuse him anything, you will always give in to him, no matter what, no matter how stubborn you can be. You turn around to face him, your aching limbs acting like this was a monumental effort. Poe’s thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and you lean into his touch without even thinking. “I’ll get someone to come here, okay?” 

You close your eyes in contentment, forcing a small sound from the back of your throat to let him know you’re acquiescing to that option.

“But you should get some rest first” he says quietly. 

You nod weakly, though the moment he tries to pull away, you find yourself holding onto his wrist. “Stay” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Please”

“Okay” he shifts on the bed so that he’s fully seated beside you now, his back resting against the headboard. 

You hesitate for a second, then slowly, with the little strength you have, you move closer to him, letting your head rest over his lap. For a moment, Poe’s hand just hovers over you, unsure if this is okay, if it’s too much, before he gives in and his fingers start to gently thread through your hair, his other hand resting at your shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles through the fabric of your shirt.

For a while, neither of you speak, and the room is only filled by the sound of your uneven breathing and the occasional rustle of fabric when Poe adjusts his position to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Every now and then, his fingers drift from your hair to trace along the curve of your neck down to your shoulder before they return to combing through your hair again. 

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” he finally mutters, low enough so it wouldn’t wake you up if you happened to have fallen asleep already. 

You manage a weak smile through the haze of sleepiness that is clouding your mind, lulled by Poe’s gentle touch. “You know… takes one to know one,” you mumble sleepily.

You hear him chuckle, but it all feels distant the more you relax into his touch, the more you feel at ease right where you are. 

For the first time in hours, you feel the tension in your body begin to melt away, and it feels right to be here with him, like this, and you know that the butterflies at the pit of your stomach are not caused by your fever.

—

poe taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry 

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious 

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly 

@pigeonmama @c-losur3 @klillaah @Spicydonut25 @buckyssugarchick

@xenop0p

[stilesonthehunt]

I'm just imagining how weird the dynamic must have been in the loft when Isaac ended up living there with Derek and Peter. Like, when they weren't fighting supernatural creatures and Isaac wasn't at school or doing homework, did they all just- watch TV in silence? How did they do dinners? Did one person cook and they all sit awkwardly round the table eating? Or was it more of a 'every man for himself' situation?

[ivystoryweaver]

Hello amazing writer-person.

May I request the following…

"i cannot stand you, and yet i also cannot stand to be away from you."

… with our moody baby Marc Spector 🌙

(Congrats on the 500, you rock) 🎉

TY & ILY! 💜 (not me finally finishing my oldest request)

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Content: f!reader, action, violence, smut, Marc is a cheeky bastard because let him have fun sometimes

Word Count: 1.5k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"Give me your hand." Moon Knight's white, bandaged arm reached for yours, but your stubbornness alone stopped you as you wrenched yourself free of his grasp.

"I don't need you to hold my hand," you told him, peering over the building's edge to the street below, several stories down. "I'm gonna jump."

"The hell you are," he protested, yanking on your arm. "Hold on to me. I'll get you down."

Although he wasn't tall for a superhero, he was strong enough to make a point.

"You can't even fly. How are you supposedly going to 'get me down'?"

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

You couldn't see his face but you were certain he was smirking.

He leapt over the side of the building, dragging you with him. Despite how much you wanted to resist his help, you couldn't fly, and you didn't want to die, so you held on tightly, tucking yourself into him - arms wound around him trustingly and your face pressed into the gauzey fabric covering his throat.

He smelled like ancient secrets and sun drenched sands. Warm and woody, enticing your eyes closed as you entrusted your life to his embrace.

The wind in his cape, the power of the full moon and his years of experience helped him slow your shared descent through the night sky. Hitting the pavement with an inconsequential thud, you barely had time to get your footing before he grabbed your hand again. "Let's go."

"I think I can take it from here, Lunar Legionnaire." You mockingly tossed out one of his recent media nicknames, wrenching your hand away from his, but following his lead to an abandoned warehouse.

"In here," he directed. "Those things are still following us. They have our scent."

"Then we better not stay here," you reasoned. "Unless the great Fist of Khonshu needs to catch his breath?"

"Hilarious." White eyes narrowed into judgmental slits. "You're the one panting, sweetheart." He moved in closer. "Or were you that excited to be close to me?"

Before you could smart off, you heard a metallic rattle and then a growl. Jackals. Supernatural, invisible jackals.

But he could see them.

"Get behind me," he ordered.

Which of course you did not, shouldering right past him. "Thanks for the ride down, but I work alone."

He groaned, squeezing his wrapped hands into fists. After bouncing on his toes for a moment, he reluctantly followed. "Got your six."

His gaze fell to the sway of your leather clad hips, down over your curves.

"That's an interesting way of letting me know you're staring at my ass."

"That's an interesting way of pretending we haven't worked four missions together."

"Look who's counting," you teased.

"Counting on this being the last one, maybe. You have a death wish or something. I'm always saving your - "

Moon Knight didn't even finish his sentence before you whirled around and leapt in his direction, firing your wrist rockets into the jackal right behind him. He ducked just in time.

And that sound drew the rest of them.

"Nice work," he groaned, racing past you, breaking into a sprint as he called back over the swish of his cape, "It's gonna be a long night."

“Hey, you’re the one following me.”

The two of you spent the next annoying half hour eliminating invisible foes, working in tandem, despite you both maintaining your loner status, at least mentally.

You finally ducked into an alley, grateful for a breather.

"Are there any more of them?" You gasped, gripping your knees as you doubled over, winded from your exertion.

"Not that I see," Moon Knight answered, giving you a once over. He didn't get as tired as you, but then again, you didn't have superpowers. It felt kind of endearing to see you not perfectly put together.

"You know, you look good like this," he commented, moving into your personal space. "Sweating. Panting. I feel like I've seen it somewhere."

He tapped his gloved finger on his masked chin, pretending to think. "Was it the last time I saved your ass?"

As badly as you wanted to retort, you were still a bit out of breath.

"Oh I remember," he went on, yanking a crescent dagger from the center of his chest. He backed you up against the wall, pinning you in place with his hips. "It was the last time you were underneath me...in Dubai."

"Bullshit. I was on top," you panted, eyes fixed on his weapon, feeling wetness pool between your legs as he pressed his obvious erection against your core. "What's that for?"

He traced the pointed dagger's edge over your bottom lip before flicking his wrist, expertly cutting through the thick fabric of your mask. Before he could pull it free and reveal your face, you struggled against him as your hand darted up to keep your mask in place.

"What the hell?" You snapped, even though you physically responded eagerly to the friction between your bodies. "No faces. That was your rule."

"Don't you ever break the rules?" He challenged, stashing his dagger and gripping your hips. Thrusting against you with a seductive pulse, he dragged you back and forth over his straining length.

"Show me yours first," you ordered, still holding your mask in place with one hand. Strangely enough, this man had been inside you twice, but you had yet to lay eyes on who he really was.

Without hesitation, he complied. His gauzey mask disappeared, revealing a man far more handsome than you expected. Dark, soulful eyes peered into yours, such a beautiful contrast to the haunting white glow.

You stared as his gaze flickered down to your parted lips.

"That bad, huh?" He half joked, quickly summoning the supernatural fabric to cover his angular features once more.

You swallowed thickly, the thought of sinking your fingers into his dark curls convincing you to slowly lower your mask, pulling it free from your face and hair.

Tilting his head, as if studying you, Moon Knight shook his head playfully. "The magic is gone."

You slugged him on the arm as he chuckled, amused with himself.

"I can't stand you."

His mask disappeared again, instantly. "I can't stand to be away from you."

His lips crashed into yours with unrestrained fervor, the force of it taking what little breath you'd regained.

You sighed into his mouth as his tongue slid over yours. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you twisted your way through his curls, which were every bit as gorgeous and soft as you expected.

"Can you make a useful part of this damn suit disappear?" You huffed, tearing your mouth from his.

Yanking at the leather of your pants, he worked you free, hoisting your thick thighs around his waist. Then, as you were anticipating, just enough of his suit vanished so that he could push his heavy, pulsing length up inside you.

"Been waiting for this all night."

“That’s an interesting way of saying you’re obsessed with me.” Despite your biting commentary, you sank against him in relief, your head thumping against the brick wall behind you, its rough surface scraping against the curve of your ass. But you didn't care. He was your drug and you were getting your fix.

"Look at me," he lowly commanded, gripping the nape of your neck and staring possessively into your eyes. Heavy, deep thrusts sent your body bucking against his. "Like that?"

"Yes, right there. Feels good."

"Thought you worked alone, sweetheart." His lips curled as your eyes flashed with defiance. "You think you can get yourself off like this?"

You shuddered, your velvet walls fluttering, clenching at the sound of his infuriating voice.

"Nah...I think we work better together.”

"Just...shut up. Keep doing that. Faster."

He went slower. But deeper, hitting something devastating within you.

"Saving your ass from jackals is worth the look on your face when you come for me."

And as if his voice alone could control your body, you came undone, your body betraying your stubborn mind, agreeing with him. And, as predicted, you might have screamed a little.

The glint in his eye didn't last long as you shuddered around him, gripping him so deliciously that he actually moaned. It sounded so good coming out of his plush lips. His clenched, corded neck tensed and bobbed as sweat dripped from a singular curl.

The sight of him losing control because of you was worth a bout with jackals and all the danger that came with it.

His hips stuttered as he tried to pull out of you, but you clamped your thighs around him and held him captive. "Stay right here."

The longer you gazed at him, the more you wanted to never see that stupid white mummy mask cover his face, ever again.

Hot breath fell on your ear as he took a minute to come back to himself.

Easing back, he touched his forehead to yours - a gentle contrast to the scandalous public encounter you'd shared.

"I'm Marc."

You felt lighter somehow, sharing a laugh with him before he kissed you deeply.

"Nice to meet you."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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[dragqueenstarscream]

ok but i am STUNNED that i haven't found any megadac fics involving megatron's hand.

LOOK AT THIS. dr sumdac is in the PERFECT spot for megatron to toy with him. WHY AREN'T THERE SMUTFICS FOR THIS PREMISE YET?!

[sundrop-writes]

oo! I was just unsure of how you could do it for some of the characters but I trust you to come up with good scenarios, you’re always very creative with them.

So, could I ask for how you think teen wolf characters Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, & Derek would react to finding out reader is pregnant? (could be with their baby, or however else you think up bc ofc Lydia can’t get anyone pregnant 😂)

And no you are not alone. I really like pregnancy and baby fics, which is why I was wondering, but I was still a bit worried you weren’t up for it for this particular fandom! It’s very fun to read about having an imaginary family with my fav characters and the variety of diff scenarios that could lead to it.

'I'm sure you could come up with something good' - and the first time I read this message, I came up with something delightfully insane for Lydia. so strap in omg

I am also glad that I'm not the only one who likes pregnancy and kid fics!!! I think they are so much fun because it has elements of drama and fluff and caring. It's such a nice soup of emotions. I really hope you like what I have done here.

Teen Wolf requests are OPEN. Please read my Rules before requesting!

How would the pack react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

Included: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale.

Warnings: usually I do GN readers for reactions but this one called for fem!reader - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and has the ability to get pregnant); in Lydia's section, the reader is a werewolf; mentions of the reader having typical pregnancy symptoms; sexual themes (baby making - duh), some sentences that could be considered smutty?; I think Isaac's part is the longest because we know I have a fucking soft spot for him; mentions of unprotected sex (again - duh); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (not detailed); umm idk what else - generally mature themes? But no major warnings other than that.

Stiles would freeze up. He would be so unsure how to react to the information that for a while, he wouldn't react at all.

When the words came out of your mouth, he thought he had misheard you.

"Stiles, I - I'm pregnant."

"What?" He gaped in response.

"I'm pregnant." You affirmed gently.

He sat there, frozen with shock, and didn't say anything for a long time.

He was overwhelmed with too many thoughts and emotions. He wanted to be happy, but he felt like he wasn't ready for this. But he also wasn't ready for half the things that had happened to him in life so far - being kidnapped (more than once), having friends die or nearly die around him, being possessed by a thousand year old demon and fighting to be freed.

This was good, right?

It was you. He wanted you, he wanted everything that came with a life with you.

But it was so soon.

His dad was going to kill him.

"Stiles, say something, please-" You begged quietly, and when your eyes began to brim with tears, that broke him free from his horrible shock.

He couldn't stand to see you hurt. He jumped off the bed and swept you into a hug, holding you tight. Instinctively, you squeezed him back, seeking the comfort that always came from his touch.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." He said, whispering into your neck. "I'm sorry, I know this is bad-"

"You think it's bad?" You posed in return, misconstruing his words. "So - so you don't want to keep it?"

His heart shook in his chest.

Of all the things he had been thinking, that was not one of them.

"No." He said sharply, pulling away from the hug to get a good look at your tearful face. Your features were still twisted with pain, and he absolutely hated it. "I just - I just meant that you're upset, and that's bad."

"Well - what about the pregnancy part?" You asked urgently. "What do you think about that part?"

"It's scary as hell." He answered honestly. Your lip quivered, and he rushed to say more. "But for once in my life, I think it's the good kind of scary, like - like roller coasters or scary movies where you know nobody actually gets hurt, or - or spicy hot wings." He rambled on. "I'm terrified, but I think this is gonna be amazing. There's nobody else that I'd rather have a baby with than you."

Saying the word 'baby' out loud made it all terribly real.

You gave him a wet, tearful smile, and then pulled him into a kiss.

Isaac would be upset and insecure.

After you told him, Isaac ran - he ditched out of your bedroom window, leaving you alone and tearful, and after you spent days in bed sobbing (your sadness likely multiplied by the pregnancy hormones), you would be determined to track him down. Even if he didn't agree to be a father, even if he didn't own up to it, at the very least, you needed to finish the conversation you had started. You needed closure - the end of the relationship, if that's what he wanted.

After days of him dodging you, you finally managed to catch him at Derek's loft. It was clear that he wanted to run again, but Derek's words about owning up to his responsibilities were ringing in his ears, and he decided that at the very least, he owed you an explanation. He would give you the conversation you so desperately wanted.

"What the fuck, Isaac?" You barked at him, tears edging in your eyes again at seeing him for the first time in a week. "What the hell is wrong with you? I-"

"You really want me to run down that fucking laundry list now?" He snapped, more bitter and rage fuelled than you had ever seen him. His voice caused chills down your spine. "Because I'm surprised it's taken you this long to notice one thing, let alone half of it!"

This was not the man who you had fallen in love with. This wasn't your sweet, loving Isaac. This wasn't the man who had taken you to bed, kissed over every inch of your body, made you so ripe with passion that something like a condom felt insignificant compared to the cosmos you saw in his eyes as he pushed his cock inside of you.

"Isaac, what are you talking about?" You asked, your voice small, barely edging above a whisper as you stared him down carefully, searching through his eyes - wondering if everything before this had just been an act to get you into bed.

All you saw boiling up inside of him was hurt, and it made you ache too.

"I don't expect you to know." He sighed fitfully, shaking his head.

You put a hand over your stomach, a protective instinct, and his gaze focused there. Regret splashed up inside of him, and he couldn't contain his next words.

"When you told me you were pregnant, did you expect the fucking sun to shine down and angels to sing and some fucking - Hallmark bullshit?" He questioned, clearly jaded.

You hadn't expected that, but you hadn't expected him to run away. Part of you expected him to be happy.

"I can't be happy about this." He told you, almost as if reading your mind. "I have shitty, horrible DNA. I'm a monster, Y/N." You gave him a puzzled look, and he continued. "I'm not talking about the werewolf thing - my father was a horrible person. You know that. I can't be around a kid. I can't have a baby. I can't risk it."

He said the last part softly, that terrible regret lacing his voice, and suddenly, in that moment, it all became crystal clear to you. He thought his father's abusive ways would be hereditary.

Your chest clenched with a horrible pain, and you wandered across the room toward him, and instinctively, he backed away from you.

"Don't." He said, continuing to eye your stomach sharply. You realized now that he thought he was protecting your baby by staying away from it, staying away from you.

You inched toward him again, this time managing to snag his hand, which you brought to place flat on your stomach. You were early in your pregnancy, not showing (your stomach not any different than it normally would be) - but something wolfish inside of him flared with protectiveness, something could sense that different thing about you. It was subtle, but he could feel and hear another heartbeat under his palm. He wanted to run again, but feeling this, being so close - it caused him to relax against you, instinctively wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Isaac, you're nothing like your father." You told him quietly. "You're not going to hurt our baby-"

"But what if I do?" He argued, his voice cracking with fear.

"You won't." You assured him. "We both know that you won't."

Lydia would be shocked - in denial. Because - what the fuck is happening? This shouldn't be scientifically possible, right? Right?

At first, she was convinced that you cheated on her. She freaked out about that. She screamed at you, threw things. You cried because you hated that she was accusing you of such a horrible crime, even if you understood why (to an extent). She shouldn't be able to get you pregnant, so it was perfectly sane to think that you had cheated on her with a guy during the course of your relationship - even though you hadn't. This was crazy. This shouldn't be possible.

When you had first started feeling the symptoms - the nausea, the irritability, the generally off feeling, something that kept nagging at you and had all of your senses on edge, you hadn't even thought to take a pregnancy test. Even when you missed your period, you assumed that it was stress, not eating right... a laundry list of other things before you would have assumed this.

But then - Derek pulled you aside and asked why you smelled like that. He said the only other time he had smelled it was when he was much younger - before the fire, when one of his aunts was pregnant. You told him that it wasn't possible, and he told you that his nose never lied.

So - driven crazy by the thought, and believing it to be impossible, you peed on the stupid little stick. And then another, and then another, entirely in disbelief. And when you dumped a bunch of pee covered sticks onto Scott's Mom's kitchen counter, much to her horror, asking her if there was any way they could be wrong. She told you it was unlikely, but took you to the hospital to get you a blood test, and when it came back positive, she asked you who the father was.

She gave you that same fish-gaped mouth when you told her.

"Lydia." You sighed. "Lydia is the father. She's the only person I've ever had sex with."

And this left you and Lydia in Derek's kitchen with him and Stiles, with your positive blood test sitting in the middle of the counter, Stiles pouring over every book he could find on the subject - all of you irritably confused.

"How?" Lydia gaped, still in shock. "How?"

"I don't know." Derek shrugged. "You tell me."

"And - and you didn't cheat on me?" Lydia asked you, still believing this to be the most logical answer.

"Yes." Derek answered, cutting you off. "She's not lying. That much I can tell you."

You were glad that he backed you up on this, but it still left everyone confused and searching for answers.

"Look, okay, Lydia - you survived the Alpha bite, you have some weird immunity." Stiles said, pausing between his frantic page flipping. "Maybe... this is what happens when you have sex with a werewolf?"

Lydia scoffed and you hid your face in your hands with embarrassment. You wondered if it had something to do with the full moon. The last time - you had been so full of energy, pulsing with power as the moon came to its fullness overhead, and you had pinned her down, spent hours rubbing your cunt raw against hers. But you never thought that anything the two of you did could result in a pregnancy.

"Maybe it would help if you tell me exactly what you two did?" Stiles suggested - he was thinking of it from a theoretical, scientific standpoint, not realizing how perverted this sounded until after it left his lips.

"Really?!" Lydia glared at him.

You picked up a nearby vase and threw it at him without hesitation, and he dodged it, causing it to smash against the wall behind his head, disintegrating into dust.

"Okay, bad idea!"

"Just shut up and keep reading."

Derek would be intensely protective. From the second the words came out of your mouth, the entire axis of his world shifted. Everything became about you and protecting you and your unborn baby.

"Derek, I think I'm pregnant."

Everything suddenly made sense. The change in your scent, the odd way you had been acting, the fact that you had been sick recently.

He couldn't contain the deep, feral growl he let out - the way his eyes lit up as the news fully overtook him. The flash of red made you mistake him as angry, and your entire body sagged.

"Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't just my fault-" You hissed sharply at him, and he cut you off by sealing his lips over your own, smothering you in an intense, hot, confusing kiss.

Of course he knew that it wasn't 'just your fault'. The two of you had sex plenty of times, but if he wasn't mistaken, he remembered the night vividly well-

You thought it would be funny to tease him by tempting him with a chase through the woods, and it ended with you stomach down in a clearing, your cheek pressed against the dirt while he fucked into you roughly from behind, growling warnings in your ear, telling you not to tease him again. (Which only made you want to do it again, and again.)

"Don't be sorry, moonflower." He mumbled against your lips, using his nickname for you. "Don't ever be sorry about this."

The passion that overtook his voice sent chills down your spine. You were speechless.

"Derek?" You questioned, a quiet chirp that almost died off in your throat.

"From now on, you don't leave my sight, do you understand me?" He said, gently running his knuckles across your face, as sweet and soothing as you had ever seen him.

Before, he had been subtle in his protection of you. Reaching over to snap on your seatbelt before you could do it yourself, always putting an arm around you, especially in the face of danger, making sure that he walked in front of you if thought there might be a threat around. He had never been this outright passionate about his protection of you before.

But he would never risk the life of his unborn child - he would never let anybody come between him and the woman who was going to mother that child. It was a sacred bond now.

"Yes, of course." You couldn't help but to agree.

Then, Derek surprised you when he knelt down in front of you, placing his forehead on your stomach and gently closing his eyes as if partaking in the solitude of prayer. Which, he was - uttering silent promises to your unborn child, worshipping at the altar of the powerful, beautiful woman who was going to bring that baby into this world.

It left you speechless once again, and all you could do was run your fingers through his hair, further adding to his peace.

[sodiumpentothol]

hi chat

[female-hysterics]

Omg 😭😭😭 Sex with stalker!Steven is so insane. Can't fuck you in a normal position. He wants to see your face? Forget missionary, he's folding you into a mating press. You wanna go doggy? Nope. He's holding your arms behind your arms and going prone bone. If it's your first time fucking and he doesn't wanna scare you with any restraining he's pounding into you so hard your legs give out and pulling your hair so hard he's pulling you into a fucking hissing cobra position. Mans is so sweet with his dirty talking, so reverent with how his hands roam your body that you almost (almost) forget he's compressing your spine

Steven will also turn into a completely feral animal while fucking you. I will die on this hill 😤

Stalker!Steven is so frantic when he finally gets you naked, so animalistic and desperate, and it leaves your head spinning. He would have no qualms about urging you to your knees with love shining in his eyes, fisting your hair tightly while guiding you mouth along his cock, and he fucks your throat with abandon almost as soon as you get your mouth on him.

Steven prefers you to deepthroat because he feels so much closer to you that way, wants you to gag and drool around him and dig your nails into his thighs, and he would throw his head back while looking at you through his lashes and clutch at you skull and whimper out praise and groans out how pretty you look and how much he loves you. He would spill deep inside your mouth and then make you warm him until he’s hard again with soft pets on your cheek and hair and soft words of adoration.

Flipping and turning you into a multiple of positions, trying to get as deep into your tight wet cunt as possible, and there have been plenty of times where you have woken up in the middle of the night to his face buried between your thighs as he licks into you. He would eat you out until you’re sobbing, hiking your legs over his shoulders and lifting your body up so you are braced on nothing but your shoulders on the bed, and he is tonguefucking you like you are the last thing he will be able to taste. He will be furiously pumping his cock in his hand with his brows furrowed in fierce concentration, but his eyes would never leave your face. He would watch you come apart as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you until your legs are trembling and you can barely keep your eyes open. 

Then he would crawl up your quaking body and thrust into you while pining your legs open and fuck you until you pass out from the pleasure with his sweet voice whispering in your ear.

[nobodysdaydreams]

In Wicked (the musical specifically), do they ever explain why Nessarose’s silver shoes give Dorothy the power to go home like they do with the ruby slippers in the Wizard of Oz? Was it because Galinda enchanted them or because this was an inherent property of the shoes themselves?

Because if it was not, and the shoes belonged to Elphaba’s mom, one explanation is that these are magic dimension/world jumping shoes that Elphaba’s mom most likely got from the Wizard because he’s from another world, which begs the question of who owned the shoes originally and where did the Wizard steal them from? There’s no way he would just have them or inherit them, and he cannot make them himself. Did he steal them for their powers or does he not even know how they work and was just like “oh these shoes would probably impress a pretty lady someday” and took them and gave them to Elphaba’s mom?

This is what I’m picturing:

Madam Morrible: “Ah. The silver slippers. An ancient magical artifact long forgotten by most Ozians but incredibly powerful. It is said that there is a way, though lost to history, that gives the wearer of the slippers the ability to transport themselves back to their home, across time, space, and the fabric of reality itself!”

The Wizard: “Oh really? Wow. I just stole them because my plan was to use them to impress a pretty lady and women love sparkly shoes, but ancient magic artifact you say? That’s interesting.”

*cut to Jeff Goldblum desperately jumping up and down in sparkly heels trying to figure out how they work*

[nowritingonthewall]

In all this love for Elvira, let us not forget that precious photo that she shared of Oscar and Eugene sleeping in her lap! That says everything you need to know about their relationship, that one and the photo of her kissing the side of his head while he has his eyes closed in absolute bliss. That man loves that woman and that woman loves that man. ❤️

Hello Nonnie,

thank you for brightening our day with your Elvira and Oscar love 💜🥰

They really are the cutest, aren't they 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[mymultifandomhell]

✋