#creativity left after the the two first gifs

[ladyhawke]

10 YEARS OF BLACK SAILS (2014–2017) – Created by Jonathan E. Steinberg & Robert Levine

[whaddayadothatfor]

Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Any chance you’ll be updating The Best Kept Secret on the Grid anytime soon?? And if so can there maybe be some focus with Oscar and how well his rookie seasons going? (Podiums & sprint wins etc)??

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Five

MV, LN, OP x fem!reader Summary: Japan 2023 - the first time both McLarens were on the podium together Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, m x m, foursome, voyeurism, anal, mctwinks. WC: 2.6k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six

The setting was more reserved than usual for an after party. It appeared everyone was still recovering from the massive hangover from Singapore a week ago. Despite not being on the podium for the first time in forever, the biggest upset of the season, Max had still been more than happy to celebrate the race results with you. 

This week there had been an upset of a whole different kind. Max had been back in his rightful place but it was two McLaren’s that had stood alongside him to receive their trophies. 

You licked your lips at the thought of sinking your teeth into the rookie again. Some people may have hated having the sprint races, but you had the pleasure of the added company on a Saturday night during those weeks.

“Do you think they fuck too?”

Max looked up from the ruby he was rolling around in his fingers and he dropped the large pendant back into your cleavage where he had hung it earlier. “Who?”

“The papaya boys.” He followed your gaze to Lando and Oscar who were sitting close together. Lando’s hand covered his lips as he spoke to the rookie and whatever he said brought a blush to the Aussie’s cheeks and a nervous laugh. 

Max chuckled and drew a hand up your thigh until it disappeared beneath the thin fabric you wore. “Guess we’ll find out. Ready to go?” His fingers reached the juncture of your thighs as your legs parted for him and his smirk grew as he found nothing stopping him from touching your pussy. 

“Stupid question, M. I’m always ready for you.”

Max rose to his feet and the movement instantly caught the attention of the two others who shared the podium with him hours earlier. Lando eagerly jumped to his feet but Oscar was more relaxed as he finished his drink in one go before following. Oscar was always calm and collected, even after his first podium finish in the sprint race before summer break. He was the polar opposite of Lando’s hyperactivity.

“These walls are a little thin,” Max commented as he led the way to the penthouse suite in the hotel. He sent a smirk your way as he waved his key card in front of the door. “Aren’t they, baby?”

“We may have received a noise complaint, or two,” you admitted as you took Lando and Oscar’s hand and pulled them inside with you. “But I’m sure between the three of you you can find some creative way to keep me quiet.”

Max closed the door and leaned against it as his keen eyes surveyed the dynamics between the three of you. He made no move to start undressing, in fact he rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows before crossing his arms. “Hmm, someone’s in the mood for watching us have fun,” you said with a wink his way.

His lips tipped up into a smirk that left your knees weak. “Make it good for me, baby.”

You moved first, grabbing Oscar’s collar as you pressed yourself against him and crushed your lips to his. His hands immediately found your ass, pulling you tighter to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Not one to forget you weren’t alone, you hooked your finger into the necklace Lando wore and guided him closer so you could give him the same greeting. You felt the smile on his lips and when he squeezed your ass you heard his quiet moan against your lips, “Bunda.”

You giggled as you stepped back and decided to see how well the teammates really got along. “Now I want to see you two kiss.”

The way they moved together told you they were intimately familiar with each other and despite being the younger one, Oscar took control. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the pretty scene but you felt Max’s fingers brush your spine as he dragged the zip of your dress down your back.

“I knew it,” you whispered to him as the material pooled at your feet leaving you naked between them. “I knew they fucked.”

Their attention was drawn away from each other and they turned their heated gaze to you, drinking in the skin that had been bared. “We haven’t shared anyone else before,” Oscar admitted with flushed cheeks.

“Relax, mate,” Max chuckled, tracing the curve of your spine with his fingertips until he reached your ass and gave it a short sharp spank. You knew without looking he would have smiled at the gasp you gave. “She’ll show you what to do.”

When he had his first podium in Belgium for the sprint race it had taken the rookie a while to grow comfortable. He was more than up for the night's activities, but was also just content to watch at first and see how Max and Pierre interacted with you. Once he found his place in the dynamic there was no holding back and he had kept you in the throes of ecstasy longer than anyone else. He was always ready to prove he was up for a challenge and tonight would be no different.

“He knows exactly what to do, M,” you purred as you began to unbutton Oscar’s shirt. “I still have wet dreams from last time.”

Max took a seat in the leather single seater, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you guide Lando to the large sofa. The back of the British man's knees hit the edge first and he fell down with a grin, his arms reaching to pull you down with him. 

“I need you both to fuck me, right now,” you shamelessly begged as you straddled Lando’s thighs and sunk down on his cock with a moan. “You don’t know how long I have been waiting for you two to get on the podium together.”

Lips brushed your nape before Oscar’s breath warmed your neck and he sucked at your racing pulse. “You think you can take us both, baby?” His strong fingers caught your throat as he craned your neck so he could kiss you harshly, a clash of teeth and lips as they parted for his tongue.

“Just fuck me already, Osc.”

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he warned.

“Fuck,” Max moaned as he unzipped his trousers and stroked himself at the sight before him.

Your head fell to Lando’s shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry. Your back arched and your unprepared body stretched with a delicious burn as Oscar inched himself inside your cunt, brushing his cock along Lando’s.

“Breathe,” Oscar reminded with a chuckle as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Breathe or I won’t move.”

You tried to roll your hips but his hold was too strong so you forced a shuddering breath in and out of your lungs. “Good girl.”

Your cunt clenched at the praise and a chorus of deep moans filled your ears as your pussy gripped them even tighter.

“Osc, please.” You buried your teeth in Lando’s shoulder as he begged for the both of you and you were rewarded with the slow, languid rocks of Oscar’s body behind yours. The hands on your hips pulled you to meet each thrust and your eyes fluttered shut at the growing warmth between your legs.

Spreading his legs wider, Lando braced his feet on the ground and began to slam up into you, adding to the already overwhelming sensation of them moving inside you. You were already well on your way to your first orgasm when Lando sealed his lips around your breast and flicked his tongue over your nipple. Fire erupted across your skin and your stomach tightened when you felt his teeth next, a cry of delight quickly being cut off by Oscar’s hand.

“Shh,” he chuckled as he muffled the sounds of your pleasure. “Don’t want another noise complaint, so keep quiet.”

He eased his hand away and you shared a smirk with Lando before you looked over your shoulder. “Make me.”

Oscar snapped his hips forward as he pushed your face into the crook of Lando’s neck. “Two brats, huh.”

Suddenly you were empty as Oscar pulled out and tugged you to your feet, a whimper escaping at the loss of their cocks that had stretched you so good.

“On your knees,” he purred in your ear, pushing down on your shoulder until you sunk into the carpet between Lando’s legs. “Let’s see if you can run your mouth when it’s full.”

Lando’s cock glistened with your juices and he watched as you eagerly wrapped your fist around his thick base and parted your lips for him. The moment you met his ice blue eyes you were reminded of Max’s, the shade so close thanks to their Belgian heritage. The blue was almost swallowed by his pupils and that black hole grew when you teased him with your tongue.

You licked the bead of precum welling at his tip and as when you took him deeper your own taste coated your tongue in a delicious mix that had you humming. The soft vibrations had Lando screwing his eyes shut and his head fell back with your touch.

“Do you ever get jealous?” Oscar asked Max while he palmed your ass and lined himself up with your dripping folds. “Watching everyone fuck your girlfriend? Or whatever you guys are.”

Your eyes burned as Lando gripped the back of your head and bucked his hips, fucking your mouth.

“Why would I be jealous?” Max chuckled, his hand gripping his dick tighter, squeezing out another drop of precum that he rolled his thumb through. “We are all having a good time and enjoying ourselves. Does it matter how it happens?”

You pulled back and wiped your swollen lips as you looked up at Lando. “I don’t think I have ever heard him talk so much.”

Your ass smarted with the smack Oscar landed on it and you bit your lip as you moaned loudly. “Is that the best you can do?”

Lando’s smirk grew as Oscar raised his hand. “Such a brat.”

“Look who’s talking.” Your eyes fluttered shut as Oscar brought his hand down harder on your ass and your body erupted. Waves of pleasure rocked through you and Oscar’s rhythm faltered as he felt your walls tighten around him.

Your cheek fell on Lando’s thigh as you lost the ability to hold your head up while Oscar still fucked you relentlessly, keeping your body in the rush of the high. Your panting tickled the dark hairs on Lando’s thigh and he squirmed as he stroked his length, running the wet tip of his cock over your lips with a smirk.

“Don’t forget about me,” he teased.

Flicking your tongue out, he shuddered as it lapped at the sensitive underside but before you could wrap your lips around him again you were lifted to your shaking feet. 

“Hey, I was enjoying that,” you said with a pout to Oscar as he turned you in his arms and crushed his lips to yours, tongue dominating your mouth. 

“Don’t worry, we are far from finished,” he promised as Lando’s fingers dipped between your thighs to feel how wet you were. Teasingly slow, he withdrew those fingers and held them out for Oscar to taste. Your core throbbed at the sight of him cleaning your essence off Lando’s fingers with a deep hum and a small sound from your lips. 

“You liked watching us, didn’t you?” Oscar teased with a secretive smile and he leaned closer so his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Do you want to watch me fuck Lando?”

“Yes, please,” you whined with need. 

“But I want to watch him fuck you,” Oscar mused, chewing his bottom lip as he debated the conundrum. 

The throb in your core beat harder at his words and you curled a finger under his chin as you sent him a wink. “Like Max said, I’ll show you what to do.”

You stepped back and looked at Max to see his cheeks flushed pink as he watched you sink back down on Lando’s cock, only this time you were facing away from him. You reached between your legs and dug your nails into his thighs, tugging them open wide as Oscar took a deep breath. 

“Isn’t our little minx clever,” Max chuckled with a proud smile. He had the perfect view of you bouncing on Lando’s cock, your pussy stretched and glistening so prettily. His hand pumped up and down his hard length in time to the pace you set and Oscar knelt between Lando’s legs.

“Fuck, yes,” Oscar exhaled as he stole your arousal to used it to prep Lando ready for him.

You nearly came at the vision of Oscar easing his dick into Lando and the sounds in the room grew louder with each inch until he couldn’t go any deeper. Bracing your hands on Oscar’s shoulders, you used him to ride Lando, both of your eyes fixated on the way you all moved together, him in and out, and you up and down.

Max rose from the chair, kicking his trousers off before pulling his shirt over his head. You lost sight of him as he walked around the back of the couch but you heard him when he stopped behind you. “Lando is a fucking mess.”

Oscar tore his eyes away to peek over your shoulder and a proud smile grew on his face. “Oh, he is so fucked out right now.”

Unable to resist, you slowed down and looked over to see the utter bliss on his face. His eyes were half hooded, his jaw slack as he succumbed to the pleasure you were giving him, unintelligible sounds whispered with dry lips from his panting. Behind him Max was barely in a better state with the vein in his temple pronounced as he overstimulated himself. With one hand fisted his cock and the other combed through Lando’s damp hair, tugging the strands until his head fell further back into the cushion and his mouth opened wider. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned when Lando’s tongue swirled around the tip of Max’s cock. Your legs were quaking and a fine tremor traced your spine as another orgasm ripped through you hard enough to send colours dancing around your eyes. “Fuck, I-I-oh...my…god.” 

Oscar had watched your orgasm take hold and couldn’t help licking the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit until you were just as fucked out as Lando. Overstimulated, your legs fell twitching either side of his and jolts of aftershocks pulsed down them. Within seconds Lando cried out around Max’s cock as he came just as hard. 

“Oh, shit, so fucking tight,” Oscar panted as Lando’s orgasm tipped him over the edge and he buried himself as deep as possible before spilling in him.

Max was still trying to hold on, but when you laid back against Lando’s chest and your lips parted with heavy breaths he needed to reach the same high. Pulling out he pumped his fist twice more before grunting as thick ropes of cum splattered Lando’s lips.

“Mhmm,” you hummed happily as you caught Lando’s chin and guided his face to yours. You shared the taste of Max with a messy kiss and his cock twitched where it was still buried inside you. “You papaya boys need to get on the podium together more often.”

Oscar laughed as he fell back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “How does next weekend sound?”

Click here for next part.

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[artyandink]

necessary precautions

Summary: You and Dean hadn’t really gotten to this stage before. You were partners in hunting, not in that way. But when you’re trying to plant a bug and camera in a room at a gala, you realise that you have a lot more underlying chemistry than you thought possible. Even though it’s an act. Even if you both think you’re not good enough for each other.

A/N - Yet another drabble (promise I’ll get to the fics guys, I just have too much creative juice where this is concerned)

You were having a hard time keeping your head. Especially when Dean’s fingers were pressing into your waist like that.

You two stumbled through the door, you first and Dean after as his hands regretfully left you to let his blazer drop to the floor with a soft thud, the sound of your lips connecting over and over again the only sound outside of your hot breaths mingling in the small gap between your lips. And that problem was quickly resolved by them melding together again, soft and pliable to each other’s whims.

Fast, hard, but oh, so sensual with the way his hands traced your form like he was sculpting some damn fine art.

“God, baby,” Dean murmured, his tie next to go as you both struggled to keep a grip on reality. Dean found himself hooked, hooked on the feel of your plush lips on his after all this time. All this time of waking up in a sweat to the dream of your lips all over him, on his neck, chest, abs- from your position straddling him, grinding long and slow. Open-mouthed and yours.

Line and sinker when he finally registered the intoxicating flavour of morning coffee, beer, and whiskey (a woman after his own heart), and then he was hit with the dizzying aroma of your floral perfume, mixed with the smell of the bakery you got his pie from and topped off with the hit of sweet, sweet pheromones- lord help him.

You couldn’t get enough of his calloused hands on your body, feeling up every inch, over your waist, pushing and pulling your hips in a way that had you almost letting out a real moan, tangling in your hair and pulling so he could deepen the kiss, which made the moan fall past anyway and had his eyebrows raised slightly at how convincing that was.

He had you two stumbling further into the spacious room, eyes open and quickly scanning until he tugged on your hair twice, a signal that the room was clear that allowed you to pull back and try and scan the room for a good place to put the bug and camera that you had on your person. He mouthed at your neck, the hint of teeth and tongue nearly having your knees shaking and giving way under you had it not been for your (quickly wavering) focus.

Ok, so… there’s a bed, but not too central. His lips finding that spot on your neck with such precision it had you whimpering. A couple chairs strewn here and there. His hands disappearing under your blouse to map out every little freckle on your back, pulling the band of your bra and snapping it against your heated skin. A big-ass table in the centre of the room. His lips finding your pulse and teasingly sucking.

Wait- a big-ass table. In the centre… of the… room…

You found the cold surface of the table prick at the back of your thighs, finding that Dean had already got you there and had lifted you up, rucking up that pencil skirt.

God, that tight little skirt drove him up the wall. And he was climbing higher up it.

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured at his position of attacking - for lack of a better word - your neck, his hand massaging at your left knee, moving steadily up, rolling the softness between his skilled fingers, inching to where you were aching for him. To where you were waiting for him.

Until his hand stopped, withdrew from its position tantalisingly close to your panties and quickly planted the bug and camera. That he got from the thigh holster strapped to you, from underneath your skirt, which he then pulled down to protect your modesty.

Even if that lace was rendering him insane.

Your breaths were both laboured, no words exchanged as your eyes stared into his own mossy ones and his back at yours, his swollen, slightly reddened lips parted and craving yours. His hand gripping your hair again, nose bumping yours and ready to taste you on his tongue-

The door burst open, snapping you out of your session, with a singular shifter walking in, one who knew you both as the FBI agents from earlier. How did you know? The building you were in belonged to a shifter mafia, who were holding a charity gala of all things this very night. You and Dean had just finished questioning and needed to put a bug and camera in their main room so Sam - who was now waiting in Baby - could keep an eye on what was being said and done.

You forgot that detail when Dean’s hand had slid over your ass to grip your thigh, strong, firm and possessive. And it was buried in the back of your head when you tasted apple pie, whiskey and burger grease on his tongue; smelt old leather, cologne and his body wash.

So now you had to improvise, putting a hand on your chest, gasping and giggling in embarrassment while Dean turned his body, sliding a firm arm around your waist, like he was stating that you were his. God, you wished you were. “Oh! Sorry, we thought this room wasn’t, y’know, occupado. Just needed to have some privacy, right, babe?” You turned to Dean expectantly, who chuckled and turned to the shifter with a lick of his lips and a grin.

“Just snuck away for a moment.” He smirked, inclining his head to you as his hand inched slowly downward. “Couldn’t keep my hands off this one. Especially when she’s wearin’ that pretty, little skirt.” He punctuated his sentence with a sharp slap to your ass, which surprised you, but you covered it up to a swat of his dress-shirt covered chest (that was way too taut on him to be legal) with a laugh.

“Stop that, you’ll get me going again.” You found acting Dean’s hormonal girlfriend was easier than expected, considering the odds of the alarm being sounded that you weren’t really there to get down and dirty. You faced the shifter with a real forced love-sick grin, biting your lip briefly.

And Dean’s eyes totally weren’t on your plump, pink bottom lip and wishing it was his teeth worrying it like that.

“Can’t keep my hands off this one. Hard to when you have a man that’s so handsome, firm and… forbidden.” As a spot of payback, you slapped Dean’s ass in return, which had him jolting slightly, eyes darting everywhere before looking to his feet and smiling to himself with a pump of his eyebrows. Was it bad to think that was hot?

What?! He liked his women possessive. Or more so he liked you possessive, but he’d never say that. He’d die again before he did.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Anyway, we’d appreciate if you kept this on the DL, away from our associate, Agent Pierce. Tall, with the hair.” He gestured up to his head, referencing Sammy’s gorgeous hair. “He’s a real prude.”

You faux-scoffed in agreement, internally apologising to Sam. Dean wasn’t. “Oh, yeah, that guy. He’s a real suck up to the big boys back in DC.”

“A grass to the brass.”

“Puts the tittle with the tattle.”

“Can’t keep his mouth good and shut.”

“Snitches get stitches, am I right? You know the type.” You waved the shifter off with a small, rich laugh. “And I’d like to keep my job, see this hunk lookin’ all delicious in a suit.” You gently tapped Dean’s chest, then you realised that you had to get out of there before things got overly hormonal and suspicious.

“You’re the one who’s lookin’ goddamn edible, doll.” Dean drawled, nuzzling your neck with his nose, his acting skills surprisingly good. You kept on having to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. Disappointingly.

“Anyway, well, we have to head out before Agent Pierce gets suspicious.” You hopped off the table, picking up Dean’s blazer and tie, having him hold it while you did his tie up like a good fake girlfriend. “There we go, hon.”

“Always making sure I look good, baby.” He kissed your cheek quickly, and as you strutted out in those goddamn heels with a wink back to Dean, your hair messy, cheeks flushed, hips swaying and lipstick smeared, he let his eyes roam over your ass framed in that skirt with a lick of his lips, seeing the shifter guy doing the same- wait, what?!

Now, that was downright unacceptable. Only Dean got to check out your ass. Wait, that came out wrong. You weren’t even his.

Though he wished you’d be. Then he’d get to kiss those lips like that and actually breach second base.

“Quite a girl you got there, Agent.” The shifter guy smirked, looking at Dean with an impressed nod. “Fiery.”

Dean chuckled, nodding and stepping closer. “Yeah.” He bent so his mouth was right by the monster’s ear, even though he was itching to get out his silver knife and finish the job, talking in a rough tone that made the shifter forget he was a monster. “Look at her like that again and I’ll break your face.”

I appreciate feedback so much, guys!

Taglist: @hobby27 @k-slla

[nouearth]

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[bloodybobbysawyer]

ꜰʟᴇꜱʜʟɪɢʜᴛ: ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ʜᴇᴡɪᴛᴛ x ᴀꜰᴀʙ! ᴘᴏᴄ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

This was a request from my Discord, shout out to ya! (You know who you are). Not proofread, by the way. And yes, I take free requests.

Breeding kink, DIY fleshlight, soloboy, size kink

It was a hot summer day in Texas, and the piercing stare of the sun coated Thomas’ already sweat ridden arms. The coarse hair dotting his arms became slick with the fluids of work. The air wasn’t any help either, it was stiff and stale. You could see dust particles mingling amongst each other before they fell onto the floorboards of the Hewitt house. The only interruption these bits of dust had was from the feverish slapping, and exhales of pure desire from behind the mask of the large man.

But none of this would have happened if he hadn’t met her.

The girl.

(Y/N) was her name. The girl who's been clouding the mind of Thomas Hewitt ever since she had knocked on the family’s door, to the point of which he could hardly get any work done. He thought that God proved himself to be a proper artist when he sculpted her from the pieces of caramel-colored holy flesh amongst his studio. (Y/N) was a beautiful girl, he’d always thought so. Truth be told, he had always been nervous around her. Which made his current actions all the more shameful to him.

He had a Polaroid picture of her, where her curls were being highlighted by the same sun that was practically encouraging his godless activities. Thomas was raised in a traditional household, therefore he could hardly bring himself to look into the brown eyes staring unknowingly into his own baby blues beyond his loose curls shading them. His large hands gripped tighter onto his work table, the burly knuckles of his turning almost white as he tried to push himself past the shame - and the fear of being caught in such an intimate moment.

Earlier that morning, the 6’5 man had taken his mothers discarded tea bags and hastily stuffed the two of them into their own respective hand towels. The hand towels that were currently being used to fulfill Thomas’ current intimate fantasies. Thomas shoved his plump cock in between the towels, making a sort of flesh light by tying a leather strap around them to ensure that they envelope his wide length.

His hairy arms bent as he leaned further over the metal table as he gazed hungrily at the photo of (Y/N). He needed her, like a predator to a piece of raw meat. Now, Thomas was aware that intercourse would result in childbirth (and the other crude things Sheriff Hoyt had mentioned in passing) but he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t the goal. If he had it his way, she would be in place of his makeshift pleasure device, being pounded relentlessly. It was all Thomas could think of, from entangling his filthy fingers into her curls as her tongue swirled around the mushroomed tip of his cock to the thought of her laying down as his heavy breeding balls slapped against her ass - the same way they were slapping against the edge of the table.

The grunts and groans erupting from his chest were almost animalistic as his pace quickened. This was his first time he had used his creative wit to pleasure himself, sure, but this was not the first time that Thomas had used this simple photograph of (Y/N) to bring him to release.

With each pulse of his cock bringing him closer to his finish, the shame Thomas had felt was beginning to wash away. A guttural moan left his chapped lips as he imagined the tan flesh of her ass gripped in his huge fingers, chasing after his own orgasm as he pounded into her. Thomas was raised to be a gentleman (that of which he was, for the most part) but her pleas for mercy had fallen on deaf ears as he humped deep against her cervix - (Y/N) was strapped down, all to be impregnated by him properly. Luda Mae always spoke about how she wanted grandchildren, of course.

But now wasn’t the time for family. His veiny, chubby cock pulsed causing his voice to ring out in delight. His tongue practically hung from his mouth as he gazed at the innocent photo of (Y/N), his slick sweat falling down his lowbrow and down his reddened face. Thomas frantically peeled his soaked button up off of his hairy chest, freeing himself of the restrictions the shirt was giving his breathing. He panted as his dick twitched at the next thrust he made, the table rocked as he continued to thrust forcefully into the thought of her pretty little wet cunt around him. His dark, sweaty curls bounced as he pounded mercilessly, fucking desperately to release. .

It didn’t take long before his seed was spewing out of him, glazing the Polaroid of his potential sweetheart. The thick globs of salty goo slowly dripped down her face, her sweet smile barely visible under his semen. His size-able girth twitched wildly at the sight in front of him. Thomas grunted through the brown mask, his slick, hairy chest rising and falling as he brushed his hair back with his hand. He picked up his fleshlight and placed it into one of the cluttered drawers. His mask not once moved from his face. Thomas hurried hastily upstairs, and once he reached the laundry room, he looked through the closest hamper for a new shirt, deciding to pay his new sweetheart a visit.

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Your own Persephone and Hades Love Story

Left to right- 1->3

Introduction

This reading will give you, your own personalized rendition of a love story as if it were inspired and based on the mythology of Persephone and Hades. These two mythological entities were famously known to have had a deep, profound and, also to mention, a rocky ride of a journey in love. If you are interested in this Gothic theme of a potential love life , pick one of the piles above.

================================================================================================

Pile 1:

To represent your relationship you received The Lovers. This card signifies a deep and meaningful connection. Your love story will be one of profound passion and mutual respect. Just like Persephone and Hades, your bond will be transformative for the better as the Strength card showed up as well. You will both bring out the best in each other, finding balance in your differences.

To represent the challenge you will face in your love story you have received The Eight of cups, Wheel of Fortune reversed and the Nine of Wands. This indicates sudden change and upheaval. There will be challenges and disruptions, but they will serve to strengthen your relationship. Much like Persephone’s abduction, these challenges will lead to a new and stronger foundation for your love. There will have to be a letting go, loss and simply regrouping your strength so that it makes way for a refreshed energy. You might leave something important to you for this relationship to occur. This might not feel like the correct decision at first but you decide it is anyway.

To represent the sweet progression of your love story you have received the Page of Swords, Ace of Cups and Four of Wands. These cards bring hope and inspiration. After overcoming obstacles, your love story will be one of healing and renewal. You will have a reason to celebrate this journey with a beautiful gesture of commitment, such as a well thought out and creative proposal made by your partner to you. It could even be a destination wedding or an intimate and romantic engagement party of sorts that will be one that happens to be the hallmark of your relationship in the eyes of many, since there might have been speculations regarding the longevity of your connection because of your previously mentioned challenges. You will both emerge stronger and more connected, finding joy and fulfillment in each other's company.

================================================================================================

Pile 2

To represent the beginning of your profound love connection you have received The High Priestess. This card symbolizes intuition and mystery. Your love story will be marked by a deep, almost mystical connection. You will both understand each other on a profound level, much like Persephone and Hades, whose love was rooted in the underworld's secrets.

Secondly you received the card of Hades himself The Death. This card signifies transformation and new beginnings. Your relationship will go through significant changes, shedding old patterns and evolving into something entirely new. Just as Persephone's life changed when she became queen of the underworld, your love will transform you both. You might feel that this person has an air of intimidation to them. Despite your reluctant nature to consider the longevity of this connection as certain, you might still be drawn to them as though you are influenced by a mysterious force beyond your control. I feel as though this is a connection that your ancestors would require you to have this lifetime.

Thirdly and most conveniently you have received The Temperance card and The Two of Cups. These cards represent balance and harmony. Despite the changes and challenges, your relationship will find a beautiful equilibrium. You will both learn to blend your energies, creating a partnership that is both peaceful and powerful. After all you see each other eye to eye. There is a rightful place in each others hearts made just for the both of you.

================================================================================================

Pile 3

To start things off you have received The Ace of Pentacles and Six of Cups. These cards symbolize abundance and nurturing. Your love story will be one of growth, both emotionally and perhaps even physically. Like Persephone's role in the cycle of life and death, your relationship will be a source of renewal and creativity. You will feel that this connection is a fresh start for your life. You might have met this person before once upon a time, whether you recall it or not.

You have also received The Devil card. This card indicates temptation and passion. Your relationship will be intense and possibly a bit tumultuous, with strong desires and deep emotional ties. However, like Persephone and Hades, you will find strength in your connection, learning to navigate the darker aspects of love. Since this card speaks for itself there is not a necessity for another pull regarding the main challenge to be faced.

The Justice card is present here, it brings fairness and truth. Further you have received The two of Pentacles. Your love story will ultimately be one of balance and justice, where both partners are seen and valued equally. Just as Persephone balanced her time between the underworld and the earth, your relationship will find its own harmonious rhythm. There will be compromises made with proper communication as shown by the presence of the Ace of Swords to end off the reading.

[sockmeat]

Angel dust x male reader where after they fuck like rabbits they fall asleep together and angel has to try and get out of bed without waking up reader

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 --𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫…(𝑯𝒂𝒛𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒍)

(𝐰𝐜): 346

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Angel Dust Take an aphrodisiac together.

(𝐀/𝐍): why is it so hard for me to spell aphrodisiac what the heck, anyway I changed the post aesthetic up bc i had creative constipation :P

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): i got so stuck over this oh my goodness, sex, reader has a penis, Angel is a bottom (are we surprised), MDNI

♡ It happens when you two decide to try one of Ozzie's aphrodisiacs together

♡ Your sex drive is already high on its own, but Angel has been missing you more recently and wanted an extra boost of passion

♡ And it gave him exactly what he wanted

♡ The aphrodisiac made him more sensitive to your touch and all amplified his reactions

♡ He'd drool over how you felt inside of him and press himself as close to you as physically possible before he'd get antsy, switch positions, and take you again

♡ Angel is insatiable during this time. If your cock isn't inside of him at any point, his hands are stroking it eagerly

♡ Seeing him enjoying himself works you up as well, you two constantly feeding off the other's lust

♡ You're more than happy to fuck Angel the way he begs you too through the night

♡ It's an intense, satisfying cycle that brings you two closer as a couple and leaves none left to be desired

♡ Eventually, you two knock out in the middle of your nth round, with your dick still inside of him

♡ The aphrodisiac wears off by morning

♡ Angel wakes up first

♡ Once he realizes where he is, he feels happier than horny when he reminisces about last night

♡ He gets giddy thinking about how you were just as desperate for sex as he was, but you were still gentle with him and respected his boundaries

♡ Angel is content laying there and basking in your warmth before he realizes suddenly

♡ He has to pee

♡ But you're wrapped tight around him...

♡ Que him trying to wiggle out of your grasp without waking you or accidentally smashing your dick

♡ And he actually makes it! But now he realizes he can't stand so he has to wake you up anyway

♡ So he does, you carry him to the bathroom while half-asleep (thankfully not dropping him) then put him back under the covers so you can go back to bed

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Holiday Compromise

Summary: It was your nature to be a giver. You could give the shirt off your back if your girlfriend asked you for it. But when she is just as stubborn as you are, you have to be creative this holiday season to give the small family of three a Christmas they deserve.

Warning: slander of Vision and Sharon (no hate to them), implied sex, drinking, divorce, mention of fighting and past childhood trauma, reader is lowkeye rich, no Avenger/power AU

Note: I can't believe this is my first Wanda x reader fic, wild.

Word Count: 5.2k

You heard Wanda say goodbye to Billy and Tommy as their father picked them up to celebrate Thanksgiving with him and his new girlfriend. It was the second Thanksgiving for the boys, a feeling you knew all too well as your parents divorced at a young age. You were in the kitchen, washing off the dirty dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. "You didn't have to do that," Wanda said, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed. She was wearing a maroon dress with long sleeves that came to the middle of her thighs. She was beautiful.

"Of course I do," you said. "You cooked, I cleaned, it's only fair." She smiled at you before grabbing two wine glasses and filling them with a red wine you brought. She jumped onto the counter, slowly sipping her wine as she watched you. Once you were done and the dishwasher was running, you grabbed your glass and moved between Wanda's legs. You took a sip. "Were the boys excited to go to their father's?" You asked. Wanda sighed.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I think so." You put her glass down and placed your hands on her thighs. This was the first holiday the twins had to experience with divorced parents.

"The first holiday is hard." You smiled. "But it gets easier, I promise." You kissed her forehead. You met Wanda 10 months ago while walking out of a coffee shop on your way to a meeting for your company. As you left the shop, someone ran into you, spilling your coffee all over you. Your outfit was ruined, and on any other day, you would be upset, but you were distracted by the beauty of the woman in front of you. She was frantically trying to clean up the mess. You told her not to worry about it and asked her for dinner. "So," you took another sip of your wine. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night, my love?" You asked, kissing her cheek and down her neck. You made sure not to leave marks on her skin. Her breathing hitched.

"I see you have some ideas." You smiled against her skin.

"Can you blame me?" You asked, looking at her. "The food was delicious, but I was hungry for something else the entire time." You loved making her blush. Wanda was incredibly self-conscious of her body since giving birth to the twins. It didn't help that Vision rarely gave her attention after she gave birth. But my god, you were in love with her body. You found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself in front of her kids. Wanda smiled, biting her lip.

"You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world," you kissed her softly, taking her glass out of her hand. You lifted her. She gasped at the sudden movement and put her hands around your neck.

"It's because you are. Let me show you."

*

To your surprise, you woke up to an empty bed. You were always the first one up because you had clients in different time zones. But you made sure to take the day after Thanksgiving off so you could cuddle with your girlfriend. Her side of the bed was cold. You sat up, stretched your arms over your head, and glanced at the clock. It was 0730. You sighed and got out of bed. You put on shorts and a sweatshirt to look for Wanda.

She wasn't hard to find as you stepped into the kitchen, hunched over a notebook, a calculator, and her checkbook. You walked up behind her on quiet feet, wrapping your arms around her. She was tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. "I wanted more cuddles." You pouted. Your girlfriend chuckled, turning around to face you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you loved when she spoke in her native tongue. It was incredibly sexy.

"Why are you up so early? You don't have to be at work till 5. She was working the evening shift at a 24-hour diner. You saw the stress and worry in her features. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing I can't handle." She said. Yeah, that wasn't going to fly. Early in your relationship, she hid everything from you because Vision was never there for her. You weren't his biggest fan.

"Hey, don't keep things to yourself. Remember, we are a team." She sighed.

"I'm worried about money," she confessed. "With the holidays coming up, I just hope I can give the boys a good holiday with everything they've been through." You hummed, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry this isn't your problem."

"Hey," you spun her around from the table. "I love those boys like they are my own. We will figure it out." She shook her head, biting her lip.

"I'm their mother," she firmly said. "I do not need your help." You nodded.

"Okay," you smiled, rubbing your hands up and down her arms. "But can we cuddle some more, please?" You pouted. Your girlfriend rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Yes, we can, but," she kissed you softly. "Please forget about this, okay? I don't need you spoiling us." You kissed her forehead, and she led you back to her room, promising you would forget it.

  *   

So you were struggling to keep your promise. Every time your mind had a spare moment, you thought about Wanda hunched over her checkbook, trying to make ends meet. You knew Vision was paying the bare minimum of child support when he could afford more. But you felt trapped. It was in your nature to help those you loved and cared for. Your second-grade teacher, who allowed you to spend your lunch in her classroom because you were trying to work through your parent's divorce, needed money for hip surgery - you donated the rest of the amount to her fund. Your high school coach was in a car accident - you bought him a new one. Your secretary was diagnosed with breast cancer - you covered the medical expenses and other bills that came up. You were fortunate to be in the position you were in. You had enough money and wanted to give it all to Wanda and the twins.

However, it was early on in your relationship that Wanda wasn't with you for the money. She fought you on paying for her share of the bill, refused any gift, and never asked to help with bills. On the one hand, it made you love the mother of two more because you had your fair share of partners who took advantage of your status. Conversely, you wanted to spoil the small family if only she would let you.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Natasha asked as she opened the door to your office. The Russian was your second in command, your best friend, the sister who always wanted. Her family lived next to your father, and when it was his weekend, you would spend more time at Natasha's house than at his. Melina helped you get emancipated at 15 since you were done being a pawn in your parent's game. It was around that time you and Natasha tried dating; you were better off as friends - family. She set a stack of papers on your desk. Ugh, you hated being the boss. "Speak. I got other things to do on my list."

"Jeez, thanks," you stood up. "You got time for a drink."

"I guess I could make time in my busy schedule." Typical. You chuckled and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "Damn, we are drinking the good stuff," she took off her jacket and draped it on the back of the chair before sitting down. "Is this about Wanda? I like her. She is so much better than Sharon." You rolled your eyes, pouring the alcohol into the two glasses and giving one of them to her. No one liked Sharon. "Cheers." You hit your glass against hers and sat down.

"Wanda is having financial troubles," you swirled the amber liquid in the glass before taking a sip. "She worries about the holidays but won't let me. She's stubborn." You loved her, but she would work herself to death to provide for her boys.

"You are stubborn, too; it makes sense why you fit so well together," you flipped her off. "So she won't let you spoil her or the boys with things."

"Yes! I have all this money. What's the point if I can't spoil my girlfriend," Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was quiet, biting the inside of her cheek. You knew that she was thinking.

"So don't spoil them with things. Give them an experience. Bring them to the cabin up north," she suggested. "All you have to do is provide the food and sex."

"That is," you paused. It was a good idea. The cabin was built on some property you bought in Upstate New York. The three-bedroom, 2.5-bath sat on 16 acres of land with a private pond perfect for ice skating. You allowed close friends to use it year-round. You could take them ice skating and sledding; if you were lucky, the Northern Lights would appear. "Not a bad idea."

"That's why you keep me around," she finished her drink. "Just bring it up to her and let me know she says. Because if you aren't going to use it," Natasha stood up. "I will use it." You finished your drink and placed the two dirty glasses on the shelf behind you to be cleaned later. You chuckled.

"Are you going to take Bucky?" You questioned. She smirked.

"Him and possibly Steve, make things interesting," you cringed, grabbing the pile of paper she brought in.

"I'd have to burn down the cabin if you three spent a weekend there," you deadpanned. The redhead flipped you off.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman and always clean up after myself."

"Get out of here, you pervert, before I have to file an HR report," she waved and opened the door. "Nat," she stopped at the sound of her name. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," she smiled. "You'd do the same thing for me."

*

You were a little nervous as you sat on the edge of your bed and waited for Wanda. The twins were with Vision, so after her shift, she came over. She was in the bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed. You wanted to ask her sooner rather than later, but your stomach was in knots. What if she hated the idea? What if she thought you were being pushy and broke up with you? That would destroy you. "Baby," you turned to face your girlfriend's voice. She was drying her hair and wearing a shirt that was too big for her and came down to her thighs. "Are you okay?"

Sometimes, when you looked at Wanda, your brain short-circuited. She was so beautiful. Vision was an idiot, but hey, his loss was your gain. Your girlfriend smirked, threw the towel back in the bathroom, and walked over to you. She stood in front of you before straddling your waist. Immediately, your hands went to her thighs, massaging them. "Where have you been all night?" She asked, tracing the lines on your forehead. "I feel like you've been a million miles away." You sighed, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, my brain is all over the place."

"Can I help?" She whispered, kissing your cheek. "You work so hard." Her lips trailed down your neck and nibbled on a sensitive spot below your ear. "You help so many people," Wanda began playing with the bottom of your shirt, hands grazing your stomach and flexing your muscles. "Let me take care of you," her lips ghosted over yours. "Please." You groaned; the hold you had on your thighs tightened. She was going to be the death of you. There was a voice in the back of your mind screaming to give in, to have this talk later. But it couldn't wait. Using your strength, you flipped her over. She landed on her back and would have bounced off if you weren't holding onto her. Your face was in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Vanilla. Lavender. Fresh linen.

"As much as I want to," you said. "We need to talk about something." She touched your cheek and forced you to look at her. Her green eyes were filled with worry. "It's nothing bad. It's about the holiday season." She huffed, dropped her hand, and sat up. You were forced on your knees.

"And I thought I told you to forget about it."

"I know, I know," you sat up on your knees to be between her legs. "But you know how I am, baby," she rolled her eyes, and you took her hands in yours. "Just I came up with a compromise if you'll listen." She sighed but nodded. "I know you said you don't need my help, and I don't want to help," you added quickly. "However, I want to treat you and the twins. I own a cabin in Upstate New York, and we could go there for a few days after Christmas. It will cost me nothing besides food and the gas to drive up there," Wanda was giving you her classic 'mom look' when the twins said something she didn't like. "It has a hot tub," you said, trailing your fingers up and down her thigh. You liked the way goosebumps formed.

"No presents."

"3 presents," you countered. "2 for the boys and 1 for you." She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"You can't get us anything for Hanukkah then." You groaned. Dammit, you wanted to get them something. But you had to compromise.

"Deal," you smiled. "So," your hands went to her waist. She didn't slap them away, so you figured it was good. "Are we going?" She was fighting to keep the smile from forming on her face; she was forced to bite her lip.

"Yes, we can go. I'll discuss it with Vision." She said. SHE SAID YES!

"Wooo," you cheered, picking her up, moving her to the middle of the bed, and attacking her face with kisses. Her laughter was infectious. She pushed her away, and you turned on your side, head resting on your hand. Wanda's cheeks were pink, and she was slightly out of breath. "You are going to love it there," you told her. "It's beautiful and quiet. The boys can have their room if they want. That reminds me, the place could use a good cleaning. I'll call the service tomorrow. What do we want to do for dinner? Oh! I'll get the place decorated and-"

"Baby," Wanda cut you off with a playful smile. "We have a few weeks. No need to rush everything."

"I know," you brought her into your arms. "I'm just very excited." She giggled.

"Yeah, so am I."

*

"Boys, are you sure you have everything?" Their mother asked for the third time since picking them up at Vision's. It was Christmas. The four of you spent a quiet morning of breakfast and gift unwrapping; the gifts you got were at the cabin. Then you brought the boys to Vision's so Wanda could do some last-minute packing. The look on the man's face was hilarious when he opened the door, not expecting to see you. Thankfully, the twins excitedly ran off toward the Christmas tree, preventing awkward or hateful interactions. You drove home to spend a few hours alone with Wanda before returning to their father's.

"Yes, Mom," they said in unison, but they were already engrossed in what movie they would watch on the TV. Their jaws dropped when they saw them on the back of the driver and passenger seats. Wanda was in the trunk, reorganizing the back to fit the stuff they wanted to bring they got from their father. You rounded the back and saw Vision from the front door, a smirk on his face as he watched his ex-wife struggle. You were quick to kiss her, keeping your eyes on the man. He turned around and went back inside.

"If they forgot something, I have extra of everything," you rearranged the back and closed the trunk. "No stress, right?"

"Right, no stress." You smiled and walked to the driver's seat.

"Boys, are you ready?" You asked and fastened your seat belt.

"Yes!" They cheered. You were surprised they were excited to go. They spent a few days reading up on the wildlife they might encounter. You smiled, watching the boys put on their headphones and hit play. Wanda got in, getting settled with a blanket and a few necessary road trip snacks. You started the car and began the drive with your hand on Wanda's thigh.

* 

The drive to the cabin was your favorite, especially in the winter. The mountain views were blanketed in the snow. Trees that lost their leaves but told a different story. It was so quiet, too, a stark contrast to the city. There were about 30 minutes left of the drive; you were taking it slow as the roads weren't the best. Billy and Tommy were fast asleep, and Wanda played with the rings in your hand. You told her she didn't need to stay up, but she told you she was okay. "Why did you buy property out here?" She asked, keeping her voice low. "I feel like you could have brought property anywhere.' You chuckled; she wasn't wrong, and you have thought about it - a house in Florida on the beach, a French villa in the countryside, anywhere. You sighed.

"When I first realized I could afford anything, I wanted a cabin like this," you told her. "My mother had one when she was younger, and before the divorce, we would go, but a fire destroyed it. In my delusion, I thought if I bought one, we could be a family again," you shrugged. "Obliviously, it didn't work." You hated your parents, but a part of you was desperate for their love and acceptance.

"When was the last time you spoke with them?" She asked.

"About three years ago," you answered. "Mom needed some money, so I gave it to her," your girlfriend shook her head. "What is it?"

"Your heart is too big for this world," she kissed the back of your hand. Natasha and her family would say the same thing. However, they would say that's how you would get hurt.

"Are we there yet?" Billy groaned from the back. You chuckled.

"Almost, buddy, about 15 minutes." You said with a smile.

"I'm hungry," this time it was Tommy. Wanda rolled her eyes. That boy was always hungry.

"I'll cook us something when we get there, but first, we have to bring our stuff inside."

"And open presents," you added on quickly. The twins woke up more at the mention of presents.

"Presents are waiting for us!" Billy excitedly said. You nodded.

"Of course. It's still Christmas!"

"There better be only three presents under that tree," Wanda gave you a stern look.

"I only bought three presents," you said. She looked like she did not believe you. "I promise! That was our deal!" You stood by it, but the people you worked for didn't make that promise. "Babe, it's fine."

*   

You parked the car, and before you could speak with the family, they were out of the car to look at the cabin. Smiling, you got out yourself. It did look better in real life than in the pictures. You hired some people to come out and decorate the cabin. It was perfect with the freshly powered snow; lights hung on the roof, and the trees outside. There were some Christmas-themed blowups out front. Wanda looked at you. "You did all of this for us?" She questioned. You shrugged.

"It was nothing," you smiled, scratching your head.

"Boys, grab your stuff," Wanda instructed her kids. The twins grabbed their backpacks and suitcases and ran for the door, kicking up the snow as they went. You grabbed your bag, and Wanda's before joining them. There was other stuff in the car, but that could wait. The twins were bouncing on their heels as you typed in the code and opened the door. "Oh my god," Wanda whispered. It was like a Hallmark movie threw up in the cabin. There were more lights and wreaths, and a Christmas tree was at the center of it all. You should have given them a limit.

"Presents!" Tommy yelled, running over to the tree. So, there were more than three underneath the tree. Boxes were stacked high around it.

"Is this all for us?" Billy asked, looking back at you. You ruffled his hair.

"A majority of it is. I think there are a few for your mom and me," you said as you looked back at their mother, whose arms were crossed. Oh, she was pissed. "Boys, go pick out your room. Down the hall." Tommy stood up, looking between you and his mom.

"Are you in trouble?" He whispered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "Now go." They were quick to grab their things and run off. "It wasn't me," you said when they were out of earshot.

"I said three presents."

"I did buy 3," you paused. "Well, technically 4, but I bought it for myself." You quickly closed the distance between you and her. Her arms were still crossed, but she allowed you to wrap your arms around her. "All of these gifts are from my coworkers; you know they love the boys just as much as I do." There were rare times when you needed to pick up the boys from school when Vision or Wanda's schedules would line up differently. Since you were the boss, it was easier for you to leave. You brought them back to your office until Vision or Wanda could pick them up. Everyone loved them. You would find them with Yelena or Natasha in their office, Bucky in the cafeteria, or Shuri in the lab. When they asked what the family wanted for Christmas, you couldn't tell them nothing. It was in your nature to spoil people, so if you couldn't do it, you might as well have your coworkers do the dirty work. "Baby," you took her cheeks in your hands. "You and the boys deserve a wonderful stress-free Christmas with the year you three had. If I can provide the space and have others spoil you," you glanced at the tree. "They did go over the top. I'll talk to them." She giggled and placed her hands on top of yours. "I'll do it. You deserve the world; let me give it to you the next few days," she sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. You felt her tears on your shirt.

"Okay," her voice was so soft. "Thank you." You kissed the top of her head.

"You're welcome. Now," you whipped away her tears. "We have some very excited kids that want to open presents." You saw the boys peek their heads around the corner. Wanda laughed.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get going."

 *     

Growing up, you dreamed of having a family vacation like this one. As soon as Tommy and Billy were up with bellies filled with breakfast, the fun would begin - ice skating on the pond, sledding on the hill, and winter hikes in the surrounding woods. But also snowball fights, lots of them. You saw the northern lights at night and a little wildlife in the backyard, and you flew the drones you got the boys for Christmas. When they were asleep, you would draw a bath for Wanda, sit by the fireplace in the master, or take a dip in the hot tub. It was perfect; you'd never seen your girlfriend this relaxed. She was smiling, laughing, and more carefree. Even the boys noticed the change in their mother.

At last, all vacations must end; it was your last night at the cabin. Wanda cooked a fantastic dinner; you refused her help with every meal, so you knew she was itching to get back in the kitchen. Then it was smores around the fire and one final movie night. You were putting Billy to bed; the poor kid was falling asleep halfway through the movie. The sound of your name from the sleepy boy made you stop and turn around. "What's up, bud?" You asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. If his eyes weren't opened, you would have thought he fell back to sleep.

"Are you going to marry my mom?" You fought your jaw dropping and thanked all your years of being CEO to keep a straight face.

"I'd like to," you said honestly. You never liked lying, especially to kids. You were often on the receiving end of the lies from your parents. "Is that okay with you and your brother?" He nodded quickly, and a weight you didn't realize was on your shoulders was lifted.

"I like you, and you make Mom smile," he frowned slightly. "My dad doesn't like you." You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'm aware, but that's not gonna stop me from being with your mom, okay?" He nodded and sat up, staring down at his hands.

"They fought a lot," he admitted. "They tried not to do it in front of us, but we still heard it." Oh, you knew that feeling well. They were lucky to have each other. "I don't like fighting. Dad and his new girlfriend fight sometimes, too," you weren't aware of that. You wondered if Wanda knew.

"Do you like her?" The boy shrugged.

"She's okay, not as nice as you," that made you smile. "She just kind of ignored us when we are there." You hated some of the partners your parents ended up with.

"Look at me," he slowly did. "I want you to know that you and your brother can always come to me. You are part of my family." Billy smiled.

"Thank you," he hugged you.

"Always," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "Get some sleep." He played back down.

"Goodnight."

"Night, buddy," you turned off the overhead lights and closed the door. Wanda was in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea. "Is Tommy asleep?" You asked, wrapping your arms around her waist. She nodded.

"He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow," you chuckled, kissing her shoulder. "You were in there awhile with Billy; everything okay?"

"Yup," you popped the 'p' at the end of the word. She spun around, back against the counter, and tilted her head at you. She was a mind reader; you swore by it. "We were just talking about you and me. The boys like me." She rolled her eyes.

"I could have told you that." You laughed.

"So it's our last night here; what do you want to do?" She bite her lip, moving her head from side to side.

"You know," she trailed her hand up and down your chest. "I haven't gotten my Christmas present yet."

"And I thought you didn't want me to get you anything," she shrugged, smiling.

"You got a girl curious," you smiled, took her free hand, and led her into the master.

"Sit and close your eyes," she did as she was told and sipped on her tea. You weren't sure why you were so nervous to give it to her. Every time you went to bring it out of its hiding place, your anxiety got the better of you. You returned to the bed with a small jewelry box and bag. You set them next to her. "You can open your eyes." She did and handed you the mug. "Open the bag first," you told her, placing the mug on the side table. Wanda slowly opened the bag, pulling out the tissue paper.

"Lingerie," she laughed, taking the maroon pieces out. You smirked. "I can't believe it." You shrugged, kneeling in front of her.

"I told you I bought something for me," you chuckled against her neck. "I want to buy some lingerie for my girlfriend. Sue me," she shook her head and pushed you away slightly. You pouted as she returned the clothes to the bag and picked up the jewelry box. "If you hate it, I can return it and get you something else," you added. She opened the box.

Her green eyes shun with unshed tears. It was a necklace with four gems - each was a birthstone representing her parents, brother, and boys. "I know we don't talk about your parents or Pietro a lot, but I wanted to get you something so they'll always be with you," you explained. "If I overstepped, I can-" she surged forward. You caught her body trembling slightly as she cried.

"It's perfect," she said. "So perfect." She sat back on the bed. "Can you put it on?" You took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She was quick to go to the bathroom to look at it. While she was gone, you sat on the bed. When she was done, she came out and sat on your lap. You got major deja vu when you told her about your Christmas plans. "I don't deserve you," she whispered, kissing your cheek. "Thank you for the gift, this trip, and everything you've done for me and the twins. What Billy asked you rang in your head - 'Are you going to marry my mom?' You squeezed her thighs, and she looked at you.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Wanda Maximoff," she let out a surprised squeak from the back of her throat. "One day, you'll never have to do anything, not worry about money or bills. You could sit at home all day for all I care."

"I'd get bored," she said. "I could never be a housewife." There was something about the way she said housewife that put a chill down your spine.

"You won't have to be one," you smiled, tickling her sides and spine. She shivered. "You could go back to school and become a teacher like you wanted to, be a writer or painter, or go to culinary school. Anything you want as long as you are mine," Wanda chuckled, moving her fingers through your hair and tilting your head back.

"You got this all figured out, huh?" She teased. "Do you think about marrying me a lot?" You weren't sure how to tell her you've thought about it since she ran into you at the coffee shop. Your silence must have been telling because she threw her head back in a laugh. "I haven't even said yes yet." Your jaw dropped slightly.

"You would say yes," you said slowly. She shrugged, got off your lap, and grabbed the bag.

"You'll have to ask."

"I'll buy the ring," she stopped on her way to the bathroom, threw a wink over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her. Groaning, you fell onto your back. That woman was going to be the death of you in the best possible way.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

The Makeover and The Makeup

Title: The Makeover and The Makeup

Pairing: Angel Dust x reader (Platonic), Alastor x reader (mentioned)

Word Count: ~1,369

In which Angel Dust and the reader get into a fight in the middle of a makeover session.

A/N: Part 3 of the Never and Always series. It’s super short, but I still hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of Val, mentions of de*th, Angel being suggestive, ooc Angel maybe

When you had first struck a deal with the Vees, they had treated you with something that had almost resembled kindness. They had showered you in compliments and praise, feeding you false promises and empty words of endearment.

It lasted for two days.

After that, you were fair game. Fresh meat. A new toy for all three Vees to poke and prod at while you did their bidding.

But then came your knight in blood red armor, holding his cane in one hand and smiling broadly as he greeted you with a kiss to your knuckle for the first time.

You had stuck to Alastor’s side ever since.

But although you were more than grateful for his rescue, you couldn’t help but continue to feel a little alone. Alastor had saved you, yes, and he kept you by his side, of course, but he wasn’t exactly one to share feelings or stories. 

He did, however, listen to yours. 

After you had shared a particularly brutal story having to do with a certain moth demon, Alastor had come to a quick decision and swept you away to the Hazbin Hotel. 

When you arrived, you had found a group of souls that were just as broken as you were.

Especially Angel Dust. 

While your brief time with the Vees was nothing compared to Angel’s ongoing experience with Valentino, he seemed to appreciate that you had some semblance of understanding about what it meant to be Valentino’s target.

Meanwhile, you were just happy to find that you weren’t the only soul foolish enough to fall for the moth demon’s charms.

Ever since the two of you had found out about your shared past, Angel had practically taken you under his wing. He introduced you to Cherri Bomb, invited you when he was high strung and needed to go out, and confided in you when he had a rough day at work.

You had done the same, telling your stories about the Vees and your life Before and sharing your feelings.

The last point, though, you were beginning to regret.

“So he killed a guy for you, huh?” Angel asked as he circled you, admiring his handiwork.

“That’s not what I said,” you protested as you looked at your reflection in Angel’s full-length mirror. 

Angel stopped walking and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “You really think Smiles left the guy alive? C’mon, dollface, you ain’t that naive, are ya?”

You flushed and looked down.

“That’s what I thought,” Angel said, smugness coating his words as he began walking once again.

You looked back up and glared at him through the mirror. “You know, when I said you could give me a makeover, I didn’t mean I was going to be your personal dress-up doll. This is the fifth outfit.”

Angel stopped beside you, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning into you as he admired his work in the mirror. “You knew what you were gettin’ into, sweet cheeks. Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

You did love it. It was fun to let your guard down for a few hours and allow Angel Dust to release his creative energy. Not that you would ever say so to his face, of course.

“Besides,” Angel continued as he wandered away from you and towards his closet, rifling through the many options. “Your first official date with Mista Creepy was a hit, right? We’ve gotta change up your style a bit if you wanna get some,” he said with a wink in your direction.

Your eyes widened. “That is not what I’m trying to do,” you hissed. “Alastor is my friend.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.”

“He is,” you insisted. “He’s been nothing but sweet to me, and I’m not going to ruin the friendship that we’ve built.”

You tried not to notice Angel’s grimace in the mirror. It was a lot harder to pretend, though, when he turned around with an uncertain expression on his face, holding a dress to his chest and avoiding eye contact.

“Look,” he said hesitantly. “I know he seems…”

“Kind.”

“Right,” Angel said, scratching the back of his head. “But I’ve been talkin’ to Husk. About you and Smiles. He says you should be careful.”

You couldn’t fight back the burst of anger that rose in your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Angel’s eyes widened as he held up his two free hands in surrender. “I ain’t sayin’ you gotta stop talkin’ to the guy. I’m just saying-”

“You don’t know him,” you interjected, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t know anything about him. I know he’s an Overlord, but he’s sweet and he’s kind, and he’s never done anything to hurt me. He would never hurt anyone.”

You realized your mistake as soon as the words left your lips. It was foolish of you to forget. Alastor was your friend, of course, but he was also an Overlord. One of the most powerful Overlords that Hell had ever seen.

There was a fire in Angel’s eyes as he leaned towards you. “He already has. He’s done it to all those other souls he owns, and he’s done it to Husk. I know you love ‘im, but he ain’t a good guy.”

You spluttered and stepped back, trying to ignore the blush that coated your cheeks. “I didn’t say I loved him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You didn’t have to. I see how you look at him. It’s the same way I looked at Val before-” he stopped, looking down and away from you, shielding his gaze.

You felt your anger seep away as quickly as it had appeared. How could you have been so blind? Of course this situation felt familiar to Angel. You were a fool for not noticing any sooner. A fool, and a horrible friend.

Angel looked up, finally meeting your eyes. “I just don’t want you ta get hurt.”

You understood exactly what he was saying, of course. Alastor owned Husk’s soul, and despite never taking advantage of that fact when you were around, you had heard some of the stories from Angel. It only made sense that your friend was trying to warn you now. Someone he loved was already at the mercy of the Radio Demon. Of course he would do anything he could to protect you from the same fate.

You nodded, looking down. “I know,” you said quietly. 

You stepped forward then, wrapping your arms around the spider demon and squeezing tightly. “Thank you. For looking after me.”

For a moment, you received no response. Then, you heard the rustle of fabric as Angel dropped the dress that he was holding onto the floor, wrapping four of his arms around you and pulling you close. “That’s my job, toots,” he said quietly.

You held each other, a silent promise passing in between you as you gripped each other with all of the strength you could muster.

Finally, you stepped back, reaching out and grabbing two of Angel’s hands. You pressed them to your lips, one at a time, before looking up with a soft smile. 

“I hope I didn’t ruin the makeover,” you said with a gleam in your eye.

Angel grinned, reaching up with one of his free hands to ruffle your hair. “Not at all, sweet cheeks. Let’s get this show on the road.”

~~~

When Husk found the two of you later that day after searching for his usual drinking partner, he didn’t find two demons smiling together as they dressed up and pretended for a few hours that the rest of Hell didn’t exist.

Instead, he found two wayward souls on the ground, half dressed and half asleep, leaning against each other as they spoke in a way that only the closest of friends could.

They looked over at him, smiling and beckoning him closer, and drawing him onto the floor with them, where they spoke until sleep finally wrapped its kind arms around them.

They were still in the hotel, of course, but for the first time in a long time, these three souls finally felt like they were home.

A/N 2: Another part with more Alastor x reader is coming soon, it’ll be a continuation of A Dance in Death!! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @miyu-kii @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o

[shipmansflannels]

welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader

oh, hi! well, sorry for promising I was going to post something yesterday but ending up not doing it. I was trying to take some time out of the computer and trying to organize my creativity. so, this is what I could manage to post after a day off. hope it's fine. enjoy! sorry if it's too short, it was actually based on a youtube video I saw a long time ago and I couldn't remember all the details in it. hope you enjoyed it anyway. thanks for all the support, and the rebloggs, and the likes, and the following!

enjoy!

sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

------------------------------------------

welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader

-> prompt: after an embarrassing situation at the mall, jackie has a jealous crisis. <-

warnings: non cannon, no crash, most fem!reader but it works for gender neutral readers too, jealous!jackie, jackie being a girlfaillure, 1996 timeline, mentions of randy walsh, plot twist.

***

She had spent the entire trip back in silence.

It had become an awkward silence in the car and you couldn't help but look at her and make sure everything was okay in the passenger seat, but Jackie hadn't said a word since you left the mall and she hadn't said anything when you were driving home either.

Her parents were on a business trip, and as two teenage girlfriends who did everything in secret, you were taking advantage of those days to be together. But suddenly, everything had become a confusing mess.

Opening and closing the car door with force, Jackie grabbed the bags of clothes that were hers and set off into the house in a hurry, before you could even park the car properly in the Taylor's huge garage.

Picking up your purchases and following her into the house, you threw them on the couch and promised that you would organize it after finding out what was wrong. As you imagined, Jackie had locked herself in her room and was probably listening to loud music on that damn Walkman you had given her for her last birthday.

In fact, if you had known that it would be the cause of all your ruin, you would have thought twice when you saw him in the store window begging to be taken home.

Knocking on the door three times just to be sure, you kept your voice low, hoping she would hear you anyway, over the loud music.

"Jax, can we just talk for a minute?"

There was no response. And instead of insisting, you just pulled the handle, not at all impressed that the door wasn't locked.

"Jackie, I'm serious. What did I do? Could you please talk to me for a second and sort things out?"

She looked at you, clearly listening to you, and with a sigh, she took the Walkman from her ears and threw it back hard, those huge eyes staring into your face. Like a stubborn child, she crossed her arms and sighed again.

“I think I should be the one asking that question,” she whispered, her voice a little firmer than you were usually expecting. Generally, while you had a calmer and more relaxed posture, Jackie was always excited, always outgoing, always talking loudly, as if she was always filled with sugar all over her body.

You frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What did I do wrong, (Y\N)? What did I do wrong for you to leave me so easily, and right in front of my face, for Randy Walsh? What's different about him?”

Once again, you frowned, looking at her. "Jax, I don't get it. What the hell are you talking about?"

She huffed, returned to her normal expression and, with a roll of her eyes, leaned against the headboard. That was the signal she used for you to start a cuddle session on ordinary days, but now, you didn't know if you should join her.

So you just sat on the edge of the bed, still with your eyes fixed on her. "Is there something wrong? You can tell me, I promise I won't explode. You know I hate it when we fight, Jackie."

"You. Randy Walsh. At the video game store. Small talk. That pissed me off."

She explained, in pauses, now avoiding looking at you. Relaxing your expression, you gave an incredulous smile, but waited for her to continue, just to prove your point, and not to interrupt her in the middle of her justification.

"And what's worse, you left me waiting for hours in front of that stupid ice cream shop with my stupid raspberry cone in my hand, with my stupid shopping bags in my hand. Not hours, but…", she counted on her fingers, like if she was trying to remember. "... fifteen minutes, approximately."

You laughed again, scratching the back of your head. And she continued rambling.

"And you two were giggling, and you looked like a fool in love. I wouldn't care if it was a girl or a nice guy, I swear, but Randy Walsh! It's unacceptable, (Y\N)! How many times have you bumped into each other? through the school hallways? Once? Half a minute?”

You looked at her. "Look, love, listen… You got it all wrong."

"And I know I'm freaking out like it's a nightmare, like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life - and it really is, but whatever -. It's just… what would you expect me to do? I swear, it made me want to take your car, go home and leave you there alone, just to welcome you with a fucking sign stuck in the living room saying "welcome home, cheater"… But of course I didn't do that, I'm freaking out like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life, (Y\N), do you happen to realize what you fucking did? Randy Walsh, really? Are you fucking kidding me?"

You laughed again. "Jackie, please let me explain."

"Ah, now you want to explain? Well, go ahead. Explain yourself."

You sighed, looking at her and thinking exactly how you were going to put each thing into words, regretting it soon after, but knowing that you should move on. Looking straight into her eyes, you decided to start slowly, as you should.

"Do you remember the last day we went shopping? The day we spent at the new game store that opened on floor three and you saw that Nintendo 64 and your eyes lit up? So…", you bit your lip, nervously. "That day when you saw me talking to Randy for the first time, after coming back from practice, I was just trying to see if I could buy one cheaper, since he works at the game store in the other mall and I didn't have money specifically for the Nintendo from that store… And he promised me that he would try to ask his boss for an order, and that he would give me answers later…"

She widened her eyes, following you speaking as if it were the most important thing in the world, and from her reactions, you realized that you had made a mistake, and you realized that she also knew that she had made a mistake in judging you so early.

"Today, we were just passing by the aisle at Randy's game store, so I thought I would try to see if he had gotten the Nintendo yet… He told me yes, that it was on order and should arrive in a few days. And that made me extremely happy, Jackie, because… because it was my gift to you and because it was… well, it was your surprise birthday present."

With another bite on your lip, you laughed softly as you avoided looking at your girlfriend, who had her eyes even wider and her mouth open.

"That-? What-? How-? Oh, my God, babe… I…"

You nodded, laughing again.

"I screwed up, didn't I? I got it wrong and screwed up-"

"No, it's okay, I also overreacted, I should have told you… not told you, but at least given signs."

Jackie pouted regretfully and opened her arms. You fit into them well and breathed in her strawberry scent while ruffling those still wet hair. She whimpered a few times and hid her face in your neck, embarrassed. Her cheeks were too red, almost rosy.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, love. I didn't mean to ruin the surprise," she whispered. "It's just that seeing you and Randy together, I thought-"

"It's okay, Jax, I said it's okay. It was half my fault anyway…"

You shrugged and lifted her face to kiss her slowly. It started with a peck and then turned into a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer. When you pulled away from her, you whispered, touching the white blouse with butterflies sewn on the chest, looking down.

"Listen, I told you that I want to be clear about my feelings, and that I want to make us work, so… if I were cheating on you, which obviously I'm not, I would probably tell you. There's no reason I hide this from you, Jackie. Not even out of shame." You touched her lips with your fingers. "I love you. I wouldn't trade you for anything in this world. I swear to all that is sacred. You are the most incredible girl I have ever met and you are the woman of my life, I have never been so sure of that as I am now. "

She sighed and smiled, making another pout that you couldn't resist kissing, laughing softly and taking a moment to pull away from her.

"Besides, Randy Walsh isn't my type, and I'm not his type either…", you laughed again. "And when I say that, I mean it literally…"

Jackie frowned, her clear eyes emanating curiosity. "What you mean?"

“Jackie…” you shrugged, scratching your forehead. "He is gay."

[thetriumphantpanda]

close to you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.

For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.

Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.

You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.

It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.

You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.

“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.

“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.

“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”

Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.

“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”

It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.

“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”

You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.

“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”

There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”

“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”

Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”

“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”

You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.

“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.

“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.

“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”

“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”

“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.

You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, “Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.

It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.

“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”

“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.

In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.

“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”

You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.

“Peña?”

“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”

“Cariño?”

“Javi please, I need you.”

“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”

“Has something happened?”

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”

“Where are you?”

“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”

“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.

“Please hurry.”

He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.

Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”

He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.

“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.

“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”

“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”

Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.

“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”

“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”

“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”

He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.

“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.

“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.

The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.

There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.

“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”

You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.

“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Scaring you off.”

“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.

“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.

“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”

It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.

“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”

“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”

Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”

“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”

Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.

“You know what you’re doing with her?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.

“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”

Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.

“Will she be okay?”

Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”

Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”

Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”

[dulceackles]

Ambivalent Part one - The town

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 1k

The town of Dimdale was exactly what it sounded like; small, rather boring, and they saved electricity by switching streets lights off by midnight. Not too fancy, huh? Still, it was Y/N's hometown and even tho she sometimes had dreamed of leaving, she'd never actually wanted to pack her bags.

Oily mugs the coffee house, don't ask about the name, was the town's tourist attraction if so you could say. It had been in business since the 60s, owned by the same family, and served the world's best blueberry pie. Y/N had been working there 6 years now and, you guessed it, she loved the simple job she had.

"One black coffee, please, darling!" An old man with a gray beard ordered over the counter.

"Sure, coming up. It'd be 2.50 dollars, thank you," Y/N smiled. She was just pouring the coffee when she heard the bell on the front door ring, notifying her that a new customer had entered the café. She lifted her eyes from the coffee mug to greet the new customers, but her smile dropped the second her eyes locked with a familiar pair of green ones.

How dare he even walk in here? She thought. Dean Winchester, an asshole, liar, toxic jackass, a traitor even. To be honest, she hated him with all her heart and with all the rage she had left in her, but she didn't want to talk about it, or him, or think about it or anything... And behind him in walked Sam. About him Y/N had no ill thoughts about, but she still hated him too simply because he was related to the smallest man who ever lived, Dean. Someone could have described her as unfair, she just called herself a simple girl.

"Hey y...." Sam tried to greet her behind the counter but was quickly cut off by her.

"What would you like?" She gave them her best fake smile that also very clearly said fuck you to both of them. She handed the earlier customer his coffee, accidentally spilling some of the hot liquid into her hand. That made her hiss out of annoyance. That and the two men sitting in bar stools to be exact.

"I… Umm, I’ll take a sandwich, and he'll..." Sam stuttered, clearly taken back by her passive-aggressive character. He knew things between her and Dean had not ended well, but he hadn't thought they had ended so bad it was enough to make a grown woman act like a high school bully behind the counter.

"I'll take the sandwich too." Dean said, saving his brother from the trouble. "Soo... you still work here."

"Clearly." Y/N spat while solving the sandwiches into a paper bag. She had made the decision for them that they'd be eating on the go.

"Oh, actually, we're eating..." Sam tried to put in again, but again, he was interrupted.

"On the go. I'm sure y'all busy, I know he was last time." She gave them the same fake smile she had mastered and reached out to give them the paper bag. Dean grasped it in her hands and got up from his seat.

"It's okay, we are busy actually," He said and tapped Sam's shoulder. "Let's go."

Y/N watched as Sam got up and looked almost upset. For a second, Y/N nearly felt bad, like he had ever been nothing but sweet to her. But then she remembered that he was his brother, and that was enough reasons to hate him.

"And by the way, if you spat on it, just know I won't mind, darling." Dean smirked and then winked at her. Before turning his back, he watched, just a second, how her face turned red. He knew it wasn't a blush but a rage, and he thought a couple other customers might have clocked it too. He walked towards the door with his brother.

"Well, I'm surprised a kitchen knife hasn't flown into your back yet," Sam whispered and Dean laughed and shook his head as they get in the impala. Dean knew Y/N, and he knew that the only bullet she shoots were the bullets coming from her mouth. Well, to be fair, sometimes he had wished she would have just rather picked up a machine gun or something. Still, he thought she was adorable, even if angry. But Dean had promised himself before even stepping his foot over the boarder of this god forgotten town that he'd never drag her into his life again. Even tho they had quite a history, Dean had never told her about his real job because he didn't want to see him and real world ruin her too. No matter how cute, sweet, absolutely choleric, tempting, beautiful or enraged she was, he'd leave her be. 

She deserves better than to be dragged into this life, Dean thought. Besides, there was a case for them to battle.

"Soo.. 25-year-old woman, Sandra Rittenwell, last seen walking home from a night shift at a bar. Couple days later a body is found and well… See for yourself." Sam stretched out to show Dean the crime scene pictures he'd stolen.

"Well, that's a sight." Dean scrunched his nose in disgust. The pictures were cruel to say at least.

"Tell me about it. Surprisingly there were witnesses tho." Sam blurred out, "Victor Hills, called the police at 4am and claimed he saw a "faceless monster" take Sandra. Apparently he had been walking behind her. The police didn't take his claims seriously at first, but after the discovery of the body, they checked the nearby surveillance cameras and no "monster" had been caught in any of them. Police has no suspects as we speak, but they have had a sketch artist draw a portrait of the thing Victor saw."

"Hmm, interesting. Never seen this before;" Dean thought.

"Yup. Did some research and similar incident has happened before. In 1947 a woman disappeared, the body was never found, but locals said few had seen a similar creature in a couple of previous days, leading to the disappearance. One thing is sure, the monster has a type," Sam Said.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Dean knitted his eyebrows together.

"Women, walking home at night." Sam sigh.

"Of course," Dean shook his head for the second time that day.

// Hope you liked it, I love a feedback and hopefully I wasn't rusty. I haven't written other than school stuff in a long time. xx

Next part (x)

[lovecoree]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐊𝐓𝐇

pairing: painter!tae x black fem!reader

synopsis 🎱: taehyung doesn’t tolerate your attitude, especially when he’s not in his right mind for his next painting. punishing you is the only way for you to know he’s serious about that.

warning: SMUT ! mdni , oral ( m receiving ) , filming ( with consent ofc ) , huge d!ck tae ( yes this is a warning ) , reader is black coded , dom!tae , brat!reader , brat taming , let me know if there’s more !

a/n: this was an anonymous request, also my first time writing smut so it’s probably trash, but hope you enjoy

Taehyung was an amazing artist, the art ideas he had in mind came easily to him, wrist moving swiftly as he painted on a blank canvas, but today was a bad day for Taehyung. He couldn’t seem to stay focus nor come up with ideas that seemed new and interesting. Everything looked the same leaving him more angry and destroying countless of canvases— left ripped or thrown all across the room.

Taehyung was busy mixing up paints in a container with aggression, grey sleeves pushed up and veins protruding on his hands and arms, and glasses on the tip of his nose. He was pouring his anger out on mixing that he didn’t hear your footsteps nearing the door, not until your voice stopped all his movements.

“You’re still going at it” Your voice came out in a sarcastic tone as you took in the sight of the messy room and your boyfriend standing in the middle. Your voice got stuck in your throat when taehyung only turned his head and not his full body, eyes boring into yours as his expression was blank. “What do you want.” His cold tone was nothing new to you, you knew Taehyung can be cold towards you— or anyone when he’s angry about his work not coming out the way he wants it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from letting your true sarcastic comments slip out from time to time.

Your feet thud against the marble floor on purpose as you moved closer towards Taehyung, slightly kicking the half used canvases out of your way. Taehyung hated when you thud your feet, always telling you to pick your feet up when walking. He eyed your movements before slowly looking up at you with an intense look— a warning look that you did not take seriously. First mistake.

Folding your arms over your chest, wearing nothing but Taehyung’s grey shirt that’s oversized on you. “You’ve been in here for five hours, you promised me you’ll only be in here for two hours tae.” Which he did promise, the sincere promise he made right after giving you a kiss. Taehyung sighed as he fully turned his body around to face you. Small container and paint brush still in his hand tightly.

“Y/N sometimes promises are meant to be broken, you’ll be fine. I’m busy.” His blunt comment made you mad as you rolled your eyes. He didn’t tend to be harsh with his choice of words, but the lack of creativity and your sarcastic tone was making him annoyed. “Then why the fuck did you make the promise in the first place tae?” Taehyung jaw clenched as he looked at you with a hard glare. The bratty behavior and talk back is something Taehyung never liked, especially when you cuss. “What I say about cussing?” Taehyung stepped closer to you, towering over your body, but you wouldn’t waver. Second mistake.

“Boy I don’t care what you said, it’s my mouth. Now like I said fuck you make—” The gasp you let out as Taehyung finally broke his calmness, throwing the container of paint and paint brush on the floor— thank god it was washable paint. He gripped your neck pulling your body closer to his as you looked up at him. “Baby I told you I don’t tolerate disrespect or you cussing me out, apologize and I’ll let it slide.” Taehyung’s tone was deep, deep to the point you felt your panties start to dampen.

The look he gave you was telling you to utter something slick again, so what you do? Utter something slick again. “I’m not apologizing for shit.” Third mistake.

“That’s it take it all.” Taehyung groaned deeply glancing down at you as he gripped the back of your neck holding you still as he fucked your mouth. Loud gaging noises was music to his ears. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat.” He smirked loving the sight of your tears pooling down to your puffy cheeks, spit and precum glistening on your chin and down on the floor, balls slapping on your chin repeatedly from Taehyung’s hard thrust.

“can’t bitch now, can you?” Tilting his head back, gripping the wooden table from behind him tightly as he bucked his hips. You looked up at him as you tried your best to breath out your nose, griping his thick thighs to slow his movements. “Nah, be the brat you wanted to be and take it.”

Taehyung’s girth had your mouth stretching painfully, but you enjoyed it. His tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as you moaned around his length sending vibrations to taehyung’s cock causing him to moan. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He loved seeing your eyes filled with tears, made him weak in the knees. “S-Shit baby let me record you being good for me, hmm?” You nod your head yes as Taehyung stopped his thrust.

You could finally catch your breath as Taehyung slipped out your sore mouth. Cock drooping low from being to heavy to stand on its own. You hear him unlock his phone and pressing the record button. Gripping the base of his cock you stick out your tongue to let him slap his fat red tip on it. Pretty wet eyelashes blinking up at him as he slide back in, going back to his brutal thrusting.

Taehyung gripped the phone tight as he looked at the camera catching the pornographic scene. Biting his lip trying hard to suppress the smirk seeing you gag around him as he held you in place, nose hitting his freshly shaved pubic bone as he stuffed his cock down your throat. What felt like minutes he finally let go of your head causing you to pull back completely. Taking a huge gasp of air as spit connected from his swollen tip to your now puffy lips.

“You look a mess pretty.” You whimpered looking up at him breathing hard. He wanted to ruin you completely as punishment. Normally he would edge you on, but since you ran your mouth so much he decided to put it to good use. “Cock drunk already?” He slightly tapped your face with his free hand before gripping your jaw to look up at the camera.

“Apologies for being a brat baby and maybe I’ll go gentle.” Your hands rubbed up on his thighs as you looked up at him so pretty. “I-Im sorry for being a brat, it won’t happen a-again tae.” Voice practically raspy from the stretch, Taehyung smiled. “Good girl, finish me off.” He moved his hand from your jaw, allowing you to finally take control. His cock felt heavy in your hands as you jerked him off placing him back in your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth.

“Oh my— fuck you’re amazing.” To be honest this is exactly what Taehyung needed, from all the pent up stress he had today, fucking your throat was the only option in his mind to release it. “Fuck baby I’m close.” Taehyung’s moans turns into whimpers as you pulled away to jerk him off faster sticking out your tongue.

“shitshitshitshit.” Taehyung’s jaw dropped as his eyes rolled back, stomach caving in as thick ropes of his cum splattered all on your tongue, lips and cheeks. You looked pretty to him.

Taehyung turned the recording off, placing his phone on the table behind him. He watched as you scooped the remaining cum off your cheeks and lick your fingers clean.

“You are truly amazing baby.” Helping you up off the floor Taehyung kissed you passionately, tasting his own bittersweet cum. The kiss was sloppy yet loving. “No more distractions, ok?” Placing a harsh slap on your ass you smiled. “Ok.” You giggled as he picked you up bridal style carrying you to y’all shared bedroom.

[fandomzwriterk]

I need you to write the lin kuei brothers with a little sister 🙏

A/N: you got it!👍 Also sorry I’ve been dead I’m kinda learning to play a game competitively for the first time and I kinda forgot to write for a little while 😅😅 I might be a little more creative with these since I’m the youngest child🤣🤣🤣🤣

Bi Han

-> Of course being the most stubborn man out of all of them, Bi Han really didn’t want anything to do with you when you were born

-> Often left Kuai to take care of you, since at that point Tomas hadn’t been adopted yet

-> Wanted a brother more than a sister

-> Took him a year to get him to care about you

-> Lowkey kinda bullied you as kids

-> Didn’t really understand having a sister but ultimately he understood

-> He let you cry on his shoulder after your mother passed

-> He felt guilty at first for causing you pain

-> Pretends to be annoyed sometimes but actually cared about you after that

-> He hoped having Tomas around as well would make you happier

-> Actually might be the kind of brother who would beat the shit out of your bullies

-> You, him, Kuai, and Tomas would often wrestle together when you were all younger

-> He was mostly likely 5 when you were born, and Kuai was 3

-> He let you be the only female in the Lin Kuei until he met Frost

-> You eventually became the only reason his heart could ever be good despite the things he’d done

-> He learned to love you in his own way

-> Will not hesitate to kill somebody for you

-> You’ve had him be your personal ice pack on hot days, along with Kuai and Tomas

-> Won’t let anyone touch his baby sister

Kuai Liang

-> Over the moon to have you be his little sister

-> Very protective of you after you were able to walk, making sure you were never alone or getting hurt

-> He thinks he’s the favorite brother

-> He gets Bi Han to join him in showing you something he learned

-> Quickly discovered to never let you near him during training

-> He accidentally cut your arm with his kama

-> He always feels guilty about it

-> Often helps to keep you warm on cold days when you were little

-> Knows to never let boys near you when you all start getting older

-> Yeah he’s THAT kind of brother

-> Lowkey him and Tomas fight for sibling bonding time with you

-> Seems like the brother to often watch you from the roofs of buildings, ya know being an assassin and all

-> He has many ways to show he cares about his baby sister

-> He knows he’s had his ass beat by you for being a pain in the ass

-> Could never do anything to hurt you or your feelings

-> It breaks his heart if he does

Tomas

-> Excited to have a sister again, having lost his own sister and mom

-> Absolutely lets you get away with anything you do growing up

-> He’s a year older than you are

-> You copy each other, but he does it more

-> Practically your twin

-> He’s the one who joins Kuai on “stalking” you whenever you’re away from the Shirai Ryu

-> You help heal his heart after his family died

-> Also thinks he’s the favorite

-> You and him are the closest out of all your siblings, since you two are the closest in age

-> You take his smoke bombs every now and then to prank all your brothers

-> You, him, and Kuai often still wrestle each other like you’re still kids

-> Tomas wins every time, mostly cause he’s faster

-> Always has your back when you’re at your lowest

-> Does absolutely anything to cheer you up

-> Only he and Kuai often take turns watching you sleep from A) either hurting yourself or B) someone hurt you

-> Actually the most vengeful of all the brothers

-> Will not let Bi Han be mean to you

-> Not afraid to do anything for you

-> He’s absolutely overprotective of you

A/N: hope you enjoyed!!! Lots of these I came up from observing the characters and their manners.