#the dangers that could amount from it too tho like

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

[floralpascal]

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos��yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

© httpsserene 2023

[the-dawn-star]

Hello! I just wanted to ask for a Volturi kings x fem!mate who is very powerful. The problem is that they don't exactly know how powerful she is cause she's all happy and bubbly person and very rarely use her powers. So when the king's lives are in danger, she gets all angry and mouthy to the threat and just uses her powers and just annihilate them. Que open-mouthed vamps and one aroused blonde lol.

A/N: Pikachu meme was my inspiration and let’s once ignore the fact that Aro can read minds! Also, it is hard to imagine a situation where the kings could be harmed so apologies for the bad plot that I made up. 

-S

+400ish words.

TW/CW: Three cases of beheading (blame Stephenie Meyer for making the vampires so over powered). I can't think of anything else!

It took them quite a long time before your mates even realized that you had special powers.   

You really didn’t talk about them because to you it wasn’t anything too special and due to your bubbly personality, you rarely talked about any bad past experiences.   

You sat on Caius’s lap playing with his extravagant clothes whilst waiting for the trial to start.   

The room was mostly empty, only consisting of the three kings, you and two lower guards. The next case was said to be pretty simple and quick, so it was deemed that a massive security wasn’t needed. Also, the higher guards were in need of a break.   

The heavy doors opened, and you quieted down.   

You didn’t really know what the man being escorted had done. But from what you had heard from your mates, the man had hurt many people causing humans to start to question what was going on.   

You didn’t really pay attention to the happenings. Aro took the lead like most of the time. He gently took the hand of the man in front of him, diving into the man’s memories.   

Aro most of the times closed his eyes when using his powers. He said that it was because it helped him to concentrate on the vast amount of information that he was getting.   

You weren’t sure what happened but in seconds the man pulled his hand away from Aro and the two guards on the floor were on the floor heads separated from their bodies.   

All of your mates seemed very confused. It had been centuries since one who was standing in trial had attacked the kings.   

Before you could stop yourself, you got up from Caius’s lap and activated your power.   

Mid movement the man stopped, half a step away from Aro trying to behead Aro just like he had done with the guards. Slowly bringing his hands down.    

“What the hell happened?” Caius said, taking your hands to his.   

You didn’t have any time to respond when Aro had twisted the man’s head off of his body, letting the body and head fall on the ground unceremoniously.  

“I used my powers on him...” You said, finally diverting your gaze from the man.  

“Aro...”   

Your mate turned to look at you and you ran to him taking him into a hug.   

“And remind us of what exactly your powers were...” Caius said, still very confused.   

“I can control people's bodies...” You said, getting embarrassed of all the attention that you were getting.   

“And you didn’t inform us of this power?” Marcus asked.   

“I mean it's not really that impressive, so I didn’t see the point in it...” 

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[flynnriderishot]

screw up pt.2 - n.d

it had been a few days since yours and larray’s party and people were still posting pictures of the event.

you were lounging in your apartment, having just finished cleaning the entire place, when your phone started going off like crazy.

you had a ridiculous amount of people tagging you in something that nathan, the triplets friend, posted.

you didn’t get the opportunity to speak to the boy very much as chris was just too thrilled that his best friend was in LA and wanted him to meet literally everyone. you had spoken briefly with him after running into each other a second time, but that conversation was cut short.

you weren’t too upset about it, but you definitely wished you could’ve spoken more than just a few words with him.

you smiled at the post of you and nate that was no doubt taken by either chris or larray. you had an idea that if nick or matt took the photo, it definitely would have come out a little better.

your curiosity got the better of you, your thumb clicking the comments before you had the chance to stop yourself.

(if you aren’t white, i apologize. i’m not white either but it’s so much easier to find pics)

ynswife omg! they met ?!

sturniolosbae nathan knows yn? @/nicolassturniolo wtf?

>>> nicholassturniolo what’d i do?

mattswifey cool?? did he just call the yn ln cool? oh he’s def in love

>>> christophersturniolo 🤫

>>> nathandoe8 seriously?

matthew.sturniolo i’m cooler tho, right?

>>> nathandoe8 idk bro. she’s pretty cool

>>> matthew.sturniolo pretty or cool? 🙄🤨

ynslovely lmaoooo not them exposing him 😭

you hummed thoughtfully. quickly commenting a simple white heart under the post before exiting the app completely.

just as you were about to get lost in the dangerous world of your mind, a text message from nick startled you.

nicolas 🤓:

nate wants your number

huh?

nathan wants your number. are you hung over or can you just not read?

no need to be rude 😔

i was just confused.

why are you telling me?

it’s called ✨consent✨

do you just want me going around giving your personal information to anyone that asks?

id appreciate it if you didn’t 😘

but nathan’s your friend and i trust that you trust him, yk?

i don’t 😐

but if that means you’re ok with me giving him your number then ok.

okay :)

does that mean you’re ok with me giving him your number?

yes, nick.

while through text you could pretend you weren’t completely freaking out, on the outside, you were completely freaking out.

nathan was gorgeous, that much was obvious. so what the hell did he want your number for?

you weren’t given much time to respond to your own question before an unknown number messaged you.

hey, it’s nate

nick gave me your number. but i’m sure you know that already cause he refused to text me back until he got your approval.

lmao 😭

hi, nathan

hi :)

a word so simple, yet your heart fluttered as you imagined what it would sound like coming from his mouth.

im in LA for a few more days…

do you maybe wanna hang out before i go?

sure

just us, right?

if that’s okay with you?

i didn’t wanna sound weird 💀

it’s perfectly okay with me. what’d you wanna do?

i’m okay with anything

an indecisive person meeting another indecisive person

i’m from boston 😭 idk whats around here.

jesus, nate 🤦‍♀️

i’m sorry 😔✌️

it’s completely up to you. i’m willing to do whatever crosses your mind.

really? okay then…

we’ll go ✨thrifting✨

from the triplets couch, nate’s head fell back when chris read over his shoulder and gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder.

“good luck, bro. the thrifting world is crazy.”

[mvniro]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 THIGH FUCKING ; a osamu dazai fic. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . accidently deleted my previous account oops. i really want to tag the ones who had reposted and commented on this previously but i remember none, hope you guys find it again tho >~<.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; jealous!dazai, fem!reader, nsfw, thigh fucking, thigh pinching, uses of terms like "dumb bitch, slut" etc, slight degradation, and those are all i can remember tbh, uni au.

the winds blew by harshly and violently, as if in a hurry to reach their destination. and this hurry of the wind obstructed the path of others as they raced with the clouds to whatever their destination is. lectures had been canceled and everyone was advised to stay in the safety of their dorm walls even though the dorm buildings were right next to the college building.

   and this all led you to sigh, what were you doing here when most of the students were in the comforts of their rooms?

   you shake your head as the cold breeze hits you, making your skirt sway. you quickly make your way into your classroom with the intent of finding shelter there till the weather calms a bit ; the sight of the very few students who are stuck like you are is nothing more than little flashes due to how fast you are walking and you don't stop, till the familiar door of your classroom is just a few steps distance away from you.

   your steps are long and quick as you extend your hand, wrapping it around the round doorknob and twisting it open; you enter the classroom and close the door behind in hurry, shivering a bit.

   "well don't you look absolutely breathtaking." mocks a voice as soon as you turn around to face the class and when you tilt your head up to look at its owner who you recognize oh so well, you see dazai sitting on one of the last benches of the row farthest from the door, smirking.

   "what did you want from me?" you mutter in confusion, taking quick steps towards him as you don't waste time to reach the point ; surely if dazai wanted to meet you in the classroom after the end of the day even after knowing about the dangerous turn the weather took, it must be important.

  "oh come on, why are you in such a rush? let's have a conversation, you and me." dazai proposed though the omnious smile on his face screamed at you to refuse the proposition, turn on your heels and run towards the dorm quarters but it's the way the words rolled off his tongue, all sweetly and seductively that once again, made you bend your conscience and rationality for him.

   you nodded, almost sitting on the chair opposite of him when dazai tsked and shook his head.

   "not there," dazai's voice rang in your ears as he patted the table behind which he sat,"here."

   you nodded, standing infront of him for only a fraction of a second before you sat on the edge of his table, pulling your skirt down with one hand and curiously staring at the boy infront of you whose demeanor changed, the smile disappeared from his face as his eyes turned shaper.

  

dazai stands up with a sharp sigh leaving his lips and immediately planted his hands on either sides of you on the table, leaning closer to your face as he glares,

   "have i been too soft on you that you forgot your place?" he didn't ask you but told. he raised one of his hands to place them on your thigh, caressing the skin before he pinched it making you gasp.

   "unless i tell you, you aren't going to open that preety mouth of your's or i swear you won't be able to open your mouth for the next few days with the way i'll fuck it. we don't want that, do we?" he lowly muttered next to your ear, hand going a bit harshly towards your inner thigh which he again began to caress before pinching a very small amount of skin between his index finger and thumb and oh, the way it felt, the pain was a temporary guest as dazai immediately caressed the pinched portion with him thumb.

   you could feel the flutter in your pussy and the excitement wrapping around your heart which didn't go unnoticed by dazai, nothing ever does to be honest.

   "don't tell me you are enjoying being treated like a slut," dazai smirked, his hand traveling towards the top of your thigh which he squeezed as he looked down at your thighs, the way the skirt was almost teasing him by threatening to ride up to show more of your skin and the way only the plush portion of your thigh was revealed as the rest was covered by knee high socks, god, he felt the arousal building up.

  dazai took a step back and plopped down on the chair he previous occupied, pushing your legs a bit to have them directly against him as he poked his inner cheek with his tongue.

   "call that fucking guy who can't understand that what i claim as mine is only for me to enjoy" dazai said, his jaw tensed and it finally clicked and oh, the slick pool it left in your panties made you suck in a shaky breath.

   you were partnered up with a guy for a project and it just so happens that the guy was a bit touchy -- nothing inappropriate but just the sight of you laughing with him without caring or acknowledging dazai who sat behind you, rubbed dazai off in the wrong way. so to sum it up shortly, dazai is jealous.

   oh so jealous over something so small but you suppose you would've had the same reaction if your boyfriend was talking to someone else without as much as glancing at you.

   "i am sor--"

   a spank to your thighs cuts you off as you gasp, cowering under the glare dazai offered you.

   "did i ask you to speak? dumb bitch. can't even follow simple instructions.  perhaps i need to show you what happens to girls who can't follow instructions. gonna fuck you so dumb, you won't be able to tell left from right." dazai muttered and stood up, as he began to unbuckle his belt, unzip and unbutton his pants, he once again reminded you to call your project partner by tilting his head in the direction of your phone, which was tightly clutched by your two hands.

   you know to never argue with dazai when he is angry and so you obey, knowing that right now, all logic and reasons will go from above his head.

   so you shakily unlock your phone and scroll through the contacts, finding the name of your project partner while dazai takes his length out of his boxers, which, along with his pants hangs on his hips .

   dazai watches as you put the phone next to your ear, waiting for your project partner to pick up.

   "you look so adorable when you are my good girl then why do you act like this? hmm?" dazai once again places his hand on your thigh while he stokes his cock with the other one, his thumb caressed your skin as it teases you by going near your inner thigh but then quickly shifts to its original position.

   "why do you insist on getting on my fucking nerves?" dazai raised his eyebrows, the pumping motion of his hands increasing its pace as his anger takes over his brain.

   "dazai, let's be civil-"

   a smack on your thigh.

   then a caress followed by dazai trailing his nails on top of your thigh.

   "who gave you the permission to talk?" he muttered, having a smug smirk on his face as he knows you would've normally scoffed but you can't now, your neediness is making you bend upon his will.

   you can feel it, the sticky feeling in your panties and dazai could see it too through the short breaths leaving and entering your body.

   he lets his finger trail down towards your inner thigh, nail gently tracing the skin up towards your panties while his other hand never stopped its motion until his cock was hard enough, precum dripping from the tip made you feel almost dizzy.

   your rationality was overthrown by desire which only wanted one thing ; dazai's dick inside you. a few heavy pants leave your lips and you almost parted your legs, had it not been for your project partner picking up the phone at the exact moment.

   "hello? did you need something?" your project partner's confused voice could be heard through the phone and you know dazai heard it or he wouldn't have smirked the way he did.

   "talk to him" dazai mouthed, parting your thighs with his hands as he stepped closer to you ; spitting on his dick and rubbing it a bit to have moisture before he made you close the plush part of your thighs with his dick in between, he looked up to see you parting your lips and tilted his head in the direction of your phone which made you realise you haven't replied to your project partner.

   "n-no, i just wanted to talk to you."

   dazai snickers upon hearing you stutter, slowly thrusting in and out of your thighs; you softly gasp as the tip of his dick just lightly grazes your panties before he almost pulls himself out, only to slam himself in against. your project partner said something but you are too distracted by the way dazai has his eyes closed as he let's out small and deep breaths to care to hear what your project partner has to say.

   "talk, doll." dazai commands lowly and you flinch, gulping heavily.

   "hey-hey, sorry, what did you say again?" your voice came out nearly as a whimper; dazai pushed your thighs together even more as he sighed in content, dick thrusting in and out while his thumbs caressed your skin.

   you plant your free hand on the desk behind you as you arch your back, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of dazai's dick against your inner thighs though your attempt is futile, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, frustrated because you know dazai won't lean near you and plant kisses on your neck, he won't gently graze your throat with his teeth and neither will he nibble on the junction between your shoulder and neck --because this is how dazai punishes.

   he drives you almost insane for his touch, making you desperate and pathetic just to feel him trace your arm with a single finger.

   "do you want to come to my house for the project?"

   "nO!" you yelped as dazai squeezed your thighs tightly and pinched them, he glares at you as a warning and you end up clearing your throat, "i mean no, i can't come. sorry. i have to babysit this whole week."

   your pathetic attempt to make an excuse has dazai nearly snickering but he stops himself from doing so ; rather, his thrusts become more quick as he takes in the sight of you, your breasts bounce slightly due to him and you dig your teeth on your bottom lip, trying not to whine for his touch.

   "i didn't know you babysat."  dazai muttered in your ear to tease you, making sure to speak closely to the phone so your project partner could pick up on his hushed voice too.

   "umm, are you with someone? i can hear another voice with you." your project partner's voice forced you to pay attention to him, you were about to deny his assumption but dazai wasn't having any of it, the man refused to.

   so one of his hands came up to caress the space below your breasts, you almost shuddered at the much needed contact of his hands with your body, before dazai groped one of your breasts and harshly began to squeeze it.

   you weren't sure how you were going to cover up the breathless gasp that escaped the cage of your lips but you didn't care, too high up in the pleasurable sensation which came with every squeeze.

   dazai grunts, now moving your thighs along with his thrusts to induce even more friction on his dick and when he twitches before cumming, he tightly squeezes your thighs around his dick.

   you whimper lightly as you feel his fluids on your thigh and inside them, the sticky fluid makes you shiver and dazai too for he hadn't seen a more erotic sight then this, seeing you pant as you sit all prettily with his cum covering your thighs, god, if he wasn't trying to punish you, he would've made you scream his name.

   and you didn't bother answering your project partner who called your name, biting your lip as you watched dazai cleaning himself with a tissue before wearing his pants again.

he leans down to place a kiss at the corner of your lips, staying still as he whispers against your skin, "put the phone on speaker and let that  bastard hear how good I make you feel with just my thigh. Ride my thigh, my love."

━━━━━━━ 💋 end.

[luveline]

Hello!! For the zombie au, I would love to see something (no pressure at all tho - I love you and any of your writing regardless ❤️❤️) where the reader gets overwhelmed at the camp and goes off on her own for a bit, causing Steve to go absolutely insane with worry in the meantime. Totally up to you whether something dangerous actually happens or not. Thanks a ton either way!!

thank you for your request! i didn’t make him as worried as I could’ve potentially so please request again if this isn’t quite what you meant! zombie au steve x fem!reader

There are three different children having tantrums at breakfast. You wince at the sound, hands at your knees and squeezing, looking for relief. You have a headache the size of Mount Everest, in the midst of recovery from a cold that had you weak with fever and aching, and this isn't what you'd pictured when you crawled out of your tent this morning. 

Steve had been snoring, and Robin's newly adopted cat had been restless, climbing up and down your bodies like you were nothing more than lumpy pillows, and combined with your headache it had been a little too much to bear. Rather than wake either of them to amend their problems, you saw no harm in getting up for a walk and a moment's respite in the small communal area of camp near the fire pit. 

The fire hasn't been lit. For a while you'd all operated on nocturnal time, worried your smoke trail would attract the unkind, but it hasn't been a feasible plan to stay that way with so many young children living in the commune. These days you make very small fires when you need to warm food or boil water, and you try to stick to dry wood to minimise the amount of smoke. 

You're not sure what's causing the tantrums, perhaps they're setting each other off, but things are starting to get too much for a second time. Without a friend at your side, it's easy to fall into despair. You're sick without medicine, you've been sleeping on the floor outdoors for weeks and it's making you incredibly sore. The children are here and alone and most of them are orphans now because the unspeakable happened and it keeps on happening. Your life is a tragedy novel, the situation is dismal, and you're not sure life is ever going to get better. 

You stand up and walk for the river. The sound of rushing water will cover everything else, at the least, and there's a tree you can climb with minimal effort, a branch you can perch on that's high enough that nothing can reach you while you're overstimulated and distracted.

Today could be a good day. You need to clear your head first, is all. 

—

Steve frowns at the empty blankets beside him. He'd prefer you didn't leave without waking him, 'cos he won't be able to breathe properly until he knows you're okay. He wishes he lived in a world —that you all did— where you could go wherever you liked without telling him and he wouldn't need to worry. He hates that he needs to know where you are. 

He wiggles his toes in his shoes, trying to wake them up as he stands from the tent and casts his gaze over the camp. There's a little boy crying near the single fold out table they have. A man scoops him up and starts to rub his back, shushing him. A gaggle of girls laugh beside a small fire, camping pans and cans of soup in tongs held over the flames. Dustin and Will are already up, coming back from the river with a bucket between them. 

"Hey," Steve says, jogging up to them. He looks around. "Seen Y/N?" 

"She wasn't by the river," Will says.

"But we caught you guys a fish," Dustin says. 

Steve looks down into the bucket, where a few smaller carp lie dead. "Oh, nice going. You didn't stab them, right?" 

"We're humane," Dustin says. "You have to debone your own. We're not doing all the work." 

Steve pats his shoulder. "Hey, thanks. Just as soon as I find Y/N." 

He doesn't find you soon. You aren't at the campfire. You aren't in the general area surrounding it. You aren't in someone else's tent, and he's sure they all think he's a control freak for checking. 

He tries to calm down. Chances are you needed the bathroom and wanted privacy. He isn't freaking out, he isn't freaking out, really, he's just– he's thinking logistically, because nothing good happens where he can't see you. 

Steve turns in a frantic circle, eyes everywhere, searching for your hair, your big coat. 

He's about to admit defeat and start shouting your name when you chirp up from behind him. "Hey, handsome. Fancy seeing you here."

He turns, sees you all in one piece in your big warm coat, your clean face shimmering with damp. 

"Oh," he says, feeling like he's been punched, "those losers lied to me. You were by the river?" 

You trudge over long grass to nudge him. "Just for a bit. My head was hurting. I saw them catching fish for a while, they're pretty good, but don't blame them, I don't think they knew I was there." 

"Idiots," he says, not meaning it. His head is pounding. "Why, where were you?" 

"Sitting on the 'dangerous' tree branch." 

He takes your shoulders into his hands. He can see you preparing for a kiss, your eyes closing slowly, your chin lifting just a little. Newsflash! You made him worry and now you're climbing up trees. He shakes you gently, and when it doesn't upset you, he shakes you more. You laugh infectiously and let your head loll back and forth. You don't ask him to stop, but he feels bad, and he hugs you rather than scramble your brains any further. 

"You have a conniption?" you ask into his neck. 

"Maybe." 

"Sorry, honey," you say, which is funny and sweet, because it's the name he always gives you. 

He rubs your back. "Hmm. I should give you a speech on not wandering off along and unnecessary risks." 

"Don't do that." 

"No, I'm going to, actually." 

He sits you by the fire and makes breakfast. The speech isn't a speech, really, just an excuse to talk at you, thankful that he still can. You give him all the meatballs from the weird canned spaghetti and he starts to forgive you for the heart attack. You wipe a dab of spaghetti sauce off of his lip with your thumb before giving him a peck, and he forgets what he was talking about in the first place.

[host-club-hq]

heyyy !!! can i submit a request ? thanks !!! feel free to reject/deny this if u want to tho !!!

reader who’s from a middle to upper middle range family and they’re like in their 20’s or so and they just seem to have a lot of time and money on their hands but their family doesn’t know what they exactly do in terms of work so they confront her and ask if they’re doing drugs or nsfw work and turns out they have a bf (kyoya) who’s just really rich

thanks !!! 🫶

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x fem!reader (slice of life!AU)

➼ summary: you come from a middle class family and all of a sudden you’ve been spending considerably large amounts of money… and your family is wondering what exactly it is you do for a living nowadays? are you in with the wrong sort of people?

➼ word count: 2.7k

➼ what to expect: "It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it."

➼ warnings: none :) unless an excessive amount of fluff causes you to have severe heart issues (me too babe)

➼ i literally saw this request and was like oh my god i have to write it, then since i wasn't at my laptop, proceeded to write the fic in my beta reader's dms. thank u so much for this request it actually helped me get out of a writing rut :)

You never thought you would be sitting in your apartment for a living.

Well, technically, that's not what you do for a living, but it might as well be.

You work from home, with extremely short hours and a paycheck that's nothing to write home about. You could do your job from an office, but why bother? Most of the 8 hours you would work, you'd be sitting at your desk with nothing to do, your brain going numb from lack of stimulation.

Although you don't enjoy having virtual meetings with strangers, that's basically your entire job — you are a virtual history tutor, after all.

You never wanted to be a teacher but you still wanted to pass your extensive knowledge on to other generations, so you figured either being a substitute teacher or a tutor would suffice. And when the school you applied to mentioned an online tutor position, you snatched it up and ran with it.

Of course, you had a job before this. And it definitely wasn't your dream job. Before your passion for teaching arose, you took one of the first jobs you found available that called you for an interview. The secretary of a prestigious CEO of... a company that you're not quite sure what they did (you called it your Devil Wears Prada moment). You vaguely remember copying data and putting things in color-coded folders, but the position was brutal. You were set with impossible tasks and goals that your immediate superiors struggled to reach (truly, your Devil Wears Prada moment). You contemplated swerving your car into oncoming traffic every day on your way to work at 6:30 in the morning (obviously you didn't, too many innocent lives would have been put in danger).

But, at least, that's where you met-

Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock... knock, knock

Your ears immediately perk up and you turn your head toward the front door from your position on the sofa in the living room. There's only one soul alive that would knock on your door in that fashion.

You shut your laptop rather hastily and leap up to answer the door, sliding through the kitchen and the entry foyer in your socks to get there. Honestly, the distance from the front door to your workspace could have been considered a 5k marathon (no it's not, you're just out of shape).

You don't even have to glance at the peephole before you open the door to reveal-

"y/n! Oh, my dear, how are you?" You're immediately pulled into a crushing embrace and a comforting scent surrounds you.

"Mom?" You gawk, slowly encircling your arms around her to return the hug.

"I know I probably should have called but when I thought about doing it, I was already at your door. And I have to say, this is quite the upgrade!" Your mother wanders in without an invite, in awe of the clean, neat appearance of your apartment.

Well, penthouse. You take up the entire 58th floor at the top of your building. The elevator requires a reading of your house key-card to even press the button. It opens up right in front of your door.

... how did she get up here?

"How on earth did you get up here?" You voice your thoughts as her mother discards her walking shoes beside your own, slipping on a pair of guest slippers.

"I told the man in the lobby I was your mother and you would not believe the convincing I had to do to get him to let me up. He even needed my ID!"

"Well, yeah, because you don't live here-"

"Would you look at this place! My god, y/n, how do you keep it so clean? Not a speck of dust!" Your mother, true to her nature, swipes a finger across a nearby decorative table and it comes up absolutely spotless.

"Thanks, I mean it's not-"

"You even have a foyer! And a kitchen that doesn't double as the dining room!" Your mother wanders into the next room faster than you can process her presence.

"Mom, what are-" You try to best to follow her, slipping and sliding over the wooden floors in your fluffy socks.

"Really, y/n, I never pegged you to like modern furniture! I thought you liked a little character in your possessions. But, I must say, it's much better than I imagined your living situation to be." She strolls into the living room next, gawking at the mere size.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" You frown, relieved that she seems to have finally picked a room to settle in. She sets her enormous bag on the sofa.

"What are you even doing here? Not that I don't appreciate the surprise visit..." You save quickly, smiling sheepishly at the glare she briefly sends your way.

"I wanted to see you of course. But..." She digs through her purse and pulls out a Macbook. "I came for an explanation for this." She all but waves it around. You wince.

"Careful. Why do you need an explanation for that? You mentioned you needed a better laptop and your birthday was coming up so I thought-"

"Exactly! It's perfect, it's everything I could have ever dreamed of in a laptop!" Your mother scolds. You tilt your head.

"... is that a problem?" You blink owlishly.

"First it was the watch for your father's birthday, then the mountain of stuffed animals for your little sister for Christmas, and now this!" Your mother sighs, crossing her arms after setting the Macbook on the coffee table.

"Wha- I'm sorry, I think I'm missing what the fuss is about. I tell you guys to send me your lists and you never do, so I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted-"

"It is what we wanted, that's why I'm here!" She retaliates.

"Okay, Mom, you're going to have to calm down and tell me what the problem is because I am clearly missing something here." You lead her to the coffee table, where you both lower yourselves to the floor, cross your legs, and sit beneath it.

She takes a deep, calming breath, "I'm just concerned is all. Your last job was enough for you to live and have a fair amount of money to spare, but you don't even work there anymore." Your mother places both hands on the table, avoiding your eye.

"You're right, I don't work for them anymore." You quirk a brow, curious as to where this is going.

"And now you're an online tutor who barely works more than a few hours per day, sometimes a week! So... I'm just curious..." She sighs, shaking her head.

"How are you getting the money for all of this? This is a multimillion dollar penthouse, you sent your father a 7,000 dollar watch, and you sent me a laptop worth at least a few thousand dollars." Your mother finally meets your eyes.

Before you can respond, she reaches across the table and grabs you by the shoulders.

"Just tell me the truth. Are you selling drugs? Are you stripping? Are you doing drugs? Because whatever it is, I'm sure I can talk my way into gaining your innocence in a courtroom but you have to come clean-"

"Mom! I'm not doing anything illegal!" You exclaim adamantly, shrugging her grip off your shoulders.

"Are you in credit card debt? Your father warned you about things like this, and I always thought you were a modest spender but-"

"Mom, listen to me, okay? I'm not in debt. I'm not stripping. I'm not doing drugs." You take both of her hands in yours and speak calmly. She nods, still looking a little confused.

"Then how are you getting all of the money for this?" She asks.

You chew your lip, "Well... it's not really my money-"

Just as you begin your explanation, the front door opens and shuts loudly, the sound of dress shoes click loudly against the wooden floors.

"Honey, there's someone in your house." Your mom steadies herself, reaching for her purse like she's got some sort of weapon.

"Mom? Mom!" You hiss quietly as she starts to get up.

"I'm home, darling! Are you in the living room?"

Your mother blinks at the voice calling from the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm in here!" You reply in a trembling voice, your brain trying to decide whether or not you should greet your boyfriend or calm your mother first.

Before either of you can open your mouths again, the body attached to the voice calling for you appears in the doorway.

Kyoya sheds his blazer, leaving him clad in his button up shirt tucked into his dress pants as he tosses it onto the coat rack beside him.

"I was- oh." Kyoya finally looks up, meeting your eyes first, then the worried, albeit confused, eyes of your mother.

"I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Kyoya bows politely at the presence of someone unfamiliar to him.

Your mother's instincts cause her to return the bow where she's sitting, still completely lost.

"You're not, darling." You get up from your place at the table to greet him.

Kyoya welcomes you eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, bewildering your mother further, before making eye contact with her again.

"This must be your mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. l/n. I've heard so much about you." Kyoya bows once more, a bit more deeply.

Your mother blinks, eyes glancing between you and Kyoya with haste.

"Mom, this is Kyoya Ootori... my boyfriend." You allow Kyoya to place a respectful arm around your back.

"Your what?" She blurts. You grimace. You knew you'd have to tell her sooner or later, but most of your high school boyfriends were intimidated by her and her doting nature.

And the fact that your father threatened to end their lives if they ever laid a finger on you.

"My boyfriend..." You sigh, almost like a scolded child.

"Ah, that reminds me. A flower for you, my dear." Kyoya sets down the shopping bag he was holding and his briefcase, handing you a rose.

"Oh, it's so pretty. Thank you." You'd rather Kyoya brought you individual flowers than an expensive bouquet since you're god-awful at keeping them alive. You peck his cheek.

"Oh, and before I forget. I saw this in a store window on my way home and I couldn't help but imagine how well it would paired with that black dress you know I like so much. I thought you could wear it to dinner." Kyoya pulls out a large, black velvet box from the shopping bag and turns toward you.

"Kyoya, we've talked about this-"

"I know. You don't like when I spend money on you but I just couldn't help myself." He opens the box to reveal a necklace glittering with diamonds, more than you can count. It glimmers in the light and you're afraid to even touch it, let alone wear it.

"Oh, my god, this must have cost a fortune." Your jaw goes slack. Your mother nosily peers over your shoulder and gasps loudly.

"It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it." Kyoya smiles. A pretty pink hue dusts your cheeks at the compliment as your heart flutters.

"Thank you, my love. It's breathtaking." You gently take the box from him so he can gather his own things.

"Would your mother like to join us for dinner? I'm sure they won't mind moving us to a different table." Kyoya inquires innocently.

Your mother in question is still completely baffled by all of this.

"So... so you're dating my daughter? And... you're rich?" Your mother blurts.

"Mom!" You scold.

Kyoya chuckles, "I'm under the impression you hadn't been told about me. My apologies."

"Kyoya!" You scold him next.

"And... and this is... your house?" Your mother gestures to your surroundings.

"Yes, ma'am." Kyoya nods affirmatively.

"I moved in about... I want to say two months ago or so." You shrug. Kyoya nods.

"And how long have you been dating exactly?" She quirks a brow.

You nearly cringe at your answer, "... a year."

"A YEAR?" Your mother all but shrieks, earning a wince from you.

"Mom, it's not a big deal-" You reach for her to calm her down.

"It is a big deal! You've been seeing this gorgeous man with a mansion behind my back!" She gestures wildly to Kyoya, who blinks at her, brows raised at her reaction.

"Not behind your back! You never asked!" You insist.

"That's because you swore off men in high school after that boy stood you up-"

"WE don't have to talk about that." You want to shove your hands over her mouth. Kyoya quirks a brow quietly from behind you.

You sigh, "I met him while I was a secretary. He owns a portion of his father's company and was scheduled to meet with my boss."

That's the only thing you're thankful to that secretary position for. Your boss had buzzed for you to prepare two cups of tea for him and his guest. Once you brought them their tea, your attention was stolen by the man sitting across from your superior. Luckily, you didn't drop any of the china on your way in once you caught sight of him. After Kyoya was finished meeting with your boss, he struck up a light conversation with you that had your heart soaring. Simply basking in his beauty and powerful nature made you swoon.

Kyoya returned to your boss's office far more often than he ever needed to after his first interaction with you. He appeared at your desk, asking for your boss when these types of things could have definitely been handled over the phone. At first he didn't understand why he did it, but he soon realized his feelings for you when he caught himself asking you to dinner on his way out one day.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me you were dating this man. Let alone living with him." Your mother finally calms down enough to have your heart aching with guilt.

"I meant to, Mom, but I just... I guess I was afraid of how you'd react." You admit finally, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Kyoya helps me pay for you gifts because I want the best for you. But honestly, he can get you much nicer things than I pick out... I'm pretty sure he can buy you a house." You mutter your last sentence.

Your mother laughs, "If my daughter likes him, I like him. Come here, Kyoya." She strides forward and pulls Kyoya down for a tight embrace.

Kyoya nearly chokes, clearly rendered speechless by her sudden show of affection. He manages to reciprocate despite his shock.

"Thank you. I can assure you, I only want the best for your daughter. I'm sorry we haven't met sooner." Kyoya grins.

He has contemplated reaching out to your mother by himself despite your adamant disapproval. But he hated the idea of going behind your back to do anything at all, so he kept to himself.

"It's alright, dear. I'd love to get to know you better. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother at dinner?" Your mother returns to the woman you know and love.

"Not at all." You shake your head, a wide grin spreading to your lips.

"I'll call the the driver, tell him to bring around the SUV rather than the Benz." Kyoya pulls out his cellphone.

"A driver?" Your mother gasps, placing a hand over her chest and glancing to you for confirmation. You nod, biting your lip eagerly.

Once Kyoya's sent the short message, your mother slots herself beside him and curls her arm around his.

"So, Kyoya, you own your father's company?" The two of them walk in the direction of your shared bedroom, side by side. You watch as they leave you standing in the living room.

"Just a portion of it, yes. We're in the medical business, you see, managing hospitals and..." Kyoya's voice fades off into the house. He doesn't seem to mind your mother's sudden attention in the slightest, even switching his jacket to his other arm to accommodate her like the gentleman he is.

You purse your lips, glancing down once more to the velvet box in your hands and you're reminded that you need to start getting ready for dinner. You follow them, rolling your eyes as you hear your mother start to ask about just how well Kyoya's been treating you.

This is going to be the longest dinner of your life.

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

and here's my bts blog💜

want me to write something you want to see? request something💌

have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

[itsjaywalkers]

laurie do you have any spare boxer!barty headcanons… from boxer james au…

SAINTS ANYTHING FOR U BABE U KNOW THIS

*cracks knuckles* okay so

he fights very methodically, almost like he's fucking possessed sometimes BUT his rivals still have a hard time reading him and predicting his moves bc he's also . reckless . and will break routine all of a sudden with the most dangerous combination u can think of

a lot of ppl are convinced he plays dirty or even cheats but the truth is that he's just Good and really fucking smart

as in, the thing about boxer barty is that he can get a read on his rivals during the first handful of seconds

yes he's strong yes he's a wild card and yes he has the technique but what makes him win at the end is his ability to . get into his opponent's head

the exception to this is james and not bc barty can't read him. it's simply that the hatred they profess each other is so visceral he just goes fucking Feral. both of them do

speaking of, they rarely get to finish their matches bc they always end up disqualified halfway through bc it gets Nasty pretty quickly when those two are involved

he's been on so many scandals. So Many. it's sort of ruined his reputation but his fans think is part of his charm

like . you know how athletes are very careful when it comes to their public images and take care of their bodies or whatever . yeah barty doesn't give a fuck about that and you WILL see a headline about him getting blackout drunk after one of his victories

this is mostly due to how controlling his father used to be back when barty was still under his thumb

in a way, most of what barty does has something to do with his father one way or another

everyone knows they had a very bad fallout like . it's public knowledge but since they don't have the details they're all soooo curious

interviewers know not to bring barty's dad up tho bc barty has flipped his shit before and on national television too so . they stray away from the topic completely

he's anti pr. his team has tried to clean up his act so many times. it never works. they've given up. at this point they're just ready to do some damage control

most of his money goes to his mother (his parents are divorced in this one and since his dad left her with pretty much nothing after they broke things off, barty took it upon himself to take care of her)

in fact, he lives with her

whenever barty loses a fight is Always on purpose

because he's obsessed with a certain nurse.. so he lets himself get beaten up from time to time just so he has an excuse to go see said nurse.. (it's evan. evan is the nurse)

evan is odd and offputing and he doesn't seem to like barty very much BUT he does seem to enjoy the sight of blood.. and analysing ppl's injuries even more than he does fixing them up.. so barty's happy to let him poke around

one time he lost a couple of teeth after a especially hard punch and while they tried to check his head and take him to the hospital barty's only concern was finding his lost teeth so he could bring them to evan

his friendship with regulus starts off as him finding reg Hot while simultaneously wanting to piss james off

but they end up Clicking and reg is the very first person barty opens up with about his dad + everything that happened with his mum

he had a thing with lily a while ago but it was mostly casual and he broke it off as soon as he found about her also sleeping with james.. they're still friends tho!! and barty is very fond of her

his first kiss with evan happens after he's dizzy and very out of it bc of the amount of blood evan just took from him (he spends more than a week thinking he dreamt it)

honestly most of his appointments with evan can be summarised by barty getting a lot of random erections and evan blinking at him with his dead brown eyes while he pokes around his body and worsens every single one of his injuries (before actually patching him up)

and im gonna stop myself there bc this is getting out of hand

[desire-mona]

this most definitely isnt an original thought and i've probably heard it on a podcast before but. i am so married to todd's sweaty tooth madman poem being a metaphor for not accepting being gay.

so here's me picking the whole thing apart (and not proofreading anything)

so starting with

the sweaty toothed madman of course being walt whitman, who we all know is (at least rumoured to be) gay. now the interpretation of whitman being a metaphor for todd's sexuality is nothing new, but i'd like to expand on it.

"i close my eyes and this image floats beside me"

i see this as any moment todd has to himself, no matter where he is, he is reminded whitman/ the fact that he's gay. the specific usage of closing your eyes to mean that the image/ reminder is always there, always following. i see the use of the words "beside me" in a couple different ways. either to suggest that the reminder is just out of view, being pushed away just enough to not be the main focus and more something you see in your peripheral, or in a 3rd person perspective, seeing todd and the imagery of walt beside eachother, coinciding with eachother. i could see both interpretations working equally as well, or even comined.

"the sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain"

THIS LINE. i loooove his use of sweaty toothed!!!!!

if you're not sure what sweaty toothed means, it just kinda means ur teeth r. wet. drooly mouth. i see this madman being sweaty toothed to mean that he's "hungry", not literally, but more desiring something. this being truth, which i'll get into later.

the stare that pounds my brain. oh man. ok so obviously this means that the image/ thought is intimidating, terrifying, threatening. the implication that todd being gay is as much of a threat to his life/ wellbeing as a madman that has it out for him, both ideas causing him an insane amount of stress.

this line is fairly simple to me, the reminder goes from something that terrifies you but ultimately can go unacknowledged, to a constant, overbearing thought that suffocates you enough that you HAVE to face it in some way or another. todd is facing it fearfully, letting it take control of him and how he acts rather than tackling the idea himself. he is defenseless against this part of him

truth (ur gay)

todd thinkin this truth will leave him unsatisfied in life :-( not only in the love sense tho! with his family too, if they find out god forbid, theyll surely view him differently and cast him off even farther than they already do. i also like to think this is him lowkey complaining that the blankets at welton are too small.

this also, devastatingly enough, reminds me of the bit from rocketman where elton comes out to his mom.

clip from rocketman (2019)

and he's mumbling. he's mumbling! this truth is still cloudy, not full realised, still being pushed away. whitman wants the truth, todd wants the truth, but he's still not ready, everything's still uncertain. this uncertain truth could also pertain to todd's feelings toward neil specifically, but i dont think that was the intention. todd does exist as his own person!

this ones simple again. you can fight off your feelings and sexuality all you want but it still wont really lead you anywhere you wanna be. you either end up marrying someone you dont love (women), or you end up alone. also the heavy emphasis on physical violence toward the Truth Blanket could be a metaphor for the physical danger todd would be in if anyone found out, but im not hellbent on that idea.

god. "from the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying," is a BEAUTIFUL way to convey "your entire life" todd you have such a way with words. anyway. i take this as something like. this is something you're born with and cant change, todd was born gay, obviously, and it will never go away with any amount of effort. hence the wailing, crying, and screaming.

also i view the specific line of "it will just cover your face" in a couple different ways. either to mean this truth will suffocate you no matter what you do, or this truth will leave you needing to hide major parts of yourself from the world.

this got a bit repetitive, i apologise. but i still have more to say.

some parts of this poem i find to be a bit too wordy to have been come up with on the spot. do i think todd is talented enough to do so? absolutely! but i just dont think that's the case. i have no doubt in my mind that a LOT of what he said in front of the class was either already on his mind, or was written down beforehand but eventually scrapped.

specifics i have in mind are the concepts of a sweaty toothed madman and a blanket that leaves your feet cold. i dont think this sweaty toothed madman was written specifically with whitman in mind, i think it was just a vessel for his anxiety generally. but the blanket i just KNOW was thought out and written down with the intention to like. be a metaphor for being unsatisfied.

and that only makes the class laughing at that line that much worse, no wonder he wanted to stop! not only was todd incredibly brave for continuing after, but keating was unimaginably quick to get the focus back to the poem. he knew that metaphor meant something to todd, and choosing to expand on that was actually an amazing way to drive that home.

either way, todd's far more brave than i ever could be. i'd be shitting myself up there.

also if u disagree with any of these points are wanna add anything then TELL MEEEE!!! art is anything but subjective and i looove seeing how you guys view things like this.

[stardust-kenobi]

If 46 & 57 are still available could you write them for Crosshair x female reader? Thank youuu

Ooohhhh boy. I’m ready. (Also sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy!!!). I’m making this one a full one shot because I got carried away LMAO. Just in time for crosshairs appearance this week

#46 - “Please, ruin me”

#57 - “What are you doing in my bed?”

Ruin me

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Summary: Crosshair finds you waiting for him in his bed. You pique his curiosity, and he decides to indulge in your interests.

Warnings: smut, rough sex, manhandling, alot of degradation, lil tiny bit of a softness tho, anyways this is filthy…it’s crosshair so y’know

Word count: 2k ish tbh I haven’t checked yet bc I’m on mobile, but it’s a semi short one

It was an idea that floated through your mind ever so frequently, but you’d been too afraid to act on it. That is, until now. You had it bad for Crosshair, and you suspected he felt the same about you. He was an asshole, that much was obvious, but maker, it turned you on.

Crosshair’s bed smelled of cedar and musk, and you embraced the aroma of his natural scent while your lustful thoughts danced in your head. He’d been gone all day, probably training, and was expected to come back any minute now. It was no accident that you put on your tightest, skimpiest outfit. The outfit was close enough to resembling loungewear so as to be not obvious when you walked the halls down to his room, but still inched toward dangerous territory of being lingerie.

Your tits spilled over the top of the thin tank top, pushed from the bra you’d chosen to wear. A ruby red lace bra, one that would leave no question as to what your intentions were, if he decides to undress you, of course. The shorts you wore, if you could even call them that, were high cut, leaving a significant amount of your thighs and hips exposed.

You laid back, taking in the feeling of laying in his room without him knowing, and allowed yourself to become excited with the idea. Pretending that the touch of your fingers traveling up your thighs were his was the closest you could get to feeling him right now, and you hoped he’d return soon.

Just then, approaching footsteps snapped you out of your daze. You swallowed hard, anticipating his arrival. The metal door slid open with a loud hiss, and there he was, stoic in his stance. He promptly removed his helmet before his eyes found you.

Crosshair wasn’t startled, nor was he angry. In fact you couldn’t even really tell what he was thinking. The same scowl he always held was still present on his face. He tilted his head at you, studying the way you laid seductively on his bed.

“What are you doing in my bed?” He inquired curiously. That voice, gods…that beautiful voice. You wanted nothing more than to hear him whisper nasty things in your ear.

“I wanted to surprise you” you purred. Sitting up on your knees, letting him get a full view down the cleavage of your shirt.

“With what?” He scanned your body, seemingly approving, but was followed by a look of distaste.

“Me.” You whispered.

“Is that so?” He pondered with a snarky look, setting his helmet down on the desk by the entrance, “what makes you think I’d want to fuck you?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to?” You leaned back in surprise.

“Oh no, I’m going to fuck you” He said with certainty, sending a fiery heat to your cunt as it fell off his lips, “just curious what made you think I wanted to”

He cut right to the chase. This was happening, and he was ready, but not without a little more teasing on his end.

“I see the way you look at me” You noted, looking him up and down and admiring the outline of his body. He looked so good in his armor.

“How can I not? You’re always dressed like a little slut” He scoffed. He was so fucking hard to read. He wanted you, but sounded disgusted with your behavior at the same time.

“You love it, though, don’t you?” You teased, watching his face grow flustered.

He didn’t answer, but moved slowly to stand beside the bed, staring down at you.

“You want my cock? Hm? Is that what you want, pet?” He asked, his voice flowing like honey on your ears, making you shiver in anticipation of how he was likely going to leave you limping afterwards.

“Please, ruin me” you breathlessly begged. The way he was treating you was so sadistic, but oh it felt so right.

“Gladly” He growled in response.

Quickly, he worked to remove your tank top, finding the lingerie you wore beneath it.

“You wore this just for me didn’t you?” He smirked, taking your lifted breasts into his grasp. He didn’t admire your attire for long, because he removed your bra just as quickly as he found it, “and I bet your cunt is already soaking fucking wet isn’t it?” He asked, pushing you back onto his bed with force, and eagerly sliding your shorts from your hips. Suddenly he plunged two fingers inside of you, allowing him to feel what he suspected, and you gasped in response.

“You need my cock this bad? What a needy little whore” He whispered against your ear, hovering above your completely exposed body. Chills erupted across your entire body, which Crosshair noticed immediately, “Beg for it”

“I want you to- oh my gods- I want you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please” You begged through your whimpering as his fingers pumped in and out with the perfect curl, apply perfect pressure inside of you.

“I’ve thought about it, myself” He began, “thought about the way you’d look squirming beneath me. How pathetic you’d sound begging for me to ruin you. Look at you now. It’s only my fingers” He chuckled, so intent on humiliating you.

“It feels so good” You moaned, feeling a precious tension forming in your lower belly.

“I bet it does” He smirked, immediately pulling his fingers from your pussy and ripping your approaching orgasm away from you, “touch yourself while I get undressed”

You did as he asked, and rubbed your clit slowly as you watch the armor and clothes fall from his body. Maker, he was beautiful. Every scar, edge, and mark creating a masterpiece of his figure. You’d never been this wet before, and it was only getting more intense as your clit throbbed beneath your fingers.

He watched hungrily, trying not to be too be too obvious with how beautiful he thought you looked getting yourself off just waiting on him, but he could watch you do this all day.

“Crosshair” You whimpered as your eyes landed on his cock, he was larger and thicker than you were expecting. He really was going to ruin you. He stroked himself gently, his gaze traveling the length of your sprawled out body. On display just for him.

“Turn over” He demanded.

You flipped onto your belly, and anxiously waited for what was to come next. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you ached to be filled and you groaned in desperation.

“Please”

“Patience, slut” He scolded, letting his new name for you roll off his tongue with a deep satisfaction

Your next breath lodged itself in your throat as the full length of his cock slammed into your cunt, brutally filling you so suddenly with almost no warning. You winced in the stinging pleasure, quickly overcoming the small bit of pain. The pain was nice, and you’ll admit that you didn’t know you even liked pain until you’d just felt it like this. But it felt good.

A loud cry tried to leave your lips but was halted by the wrapping of his hand around your mouth as he leaned down, his chest against your back. To feel him use you like this was exactly what you wanted, and the slight twinge of pain only made it all the better.

“You can take it, Y/N” He encouraged, the first and only bit of praise he muttered.

Your muffled mess of whimpers hummed against the palm of his hand, earning a smirk from him you weren’t lucky enough to see. His thrusts were brutal, fucking you like you he absolutely hated you. The sound of the skin of your ass slapping against him with every motion accompanied the sound of your expression to pleasure.

At first, all that you’d heard from Crosshair were rough and quiet grunts, but he was growing louder, sounding satisfied with the feeling of your slickness and how good it felt to claim you after thinking of you like this for so long.

“Look at you, so desperate for it” He leaned down, pressing his lips hungrily against your neck, moving his hand from your mouth to wrap in the locks of your hair. As he yanked your head back, your moans were amplified and unrestricted.

“You fuck me so good, Crosshair” You looked up and back at him, your gaze almost breaking him, but he looked away from you, and down to where your bodies were fused together. It was unbearable how good it felt, and you were overwhelmed with all of it. Your heated skin, the friction against your clit with every swing of his hips, the sensation of being used by him, and how rough he was with you…that was the icing on the cake.

“Everyone will know if you keep screaming” He hissed.

“I want them to know” You bragged.

“Yeah?” He teased you.

An unexpected flash of burning pain struck your ass, his hand rested against your rear after striking you. You cried out in pleasure, approving of the feeling. Crosshair was happy to take that as a sign to do it again, and it was harder the second time.

His hands moved to tightly grip your waist, using it to his advantage to thrust deeper and deeper. His wandering grip traveled to your breast and squeezed, the soft of your skin driving him wild. With each second, his cock brushed against your g-spot, inching you closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck” He groaned deep, losing himself in how good you felt, he was getting close too.

“I want you to fill me up” You begged him, needing so desperately to feel his release inside you.

The growl in his moan as he didn’t respond made it clear that he wanted that too. And just hearing you say it sent him over his edge. The pace of his hips slowed, and his expressions of pleasure grew louder, which was music to your ears. Just then you felt the warmth of his cum spill inside you. He leaned over you, pressing his chest into your back, holding you while he came, his nails digging deep into your waist.

You hadn’t come yet, and with him pulling out of you, you didn’t expect to. To your surprise, you squealed as he eagerly picked you up and flipped you over on your back.

“I never leave a woman unsatisfied” He said sadistically.

The hollowness that began to ache you was then filled by his fingers once again. Using the slickness of your arousal and his own cum, he fucked you with his fingers. Crosshair hovered above you, creating a sense of odd comfort for you.

“You gonna come for me slut? Gonna come on my fingers?” He taunted you, his demeaning tone only encouraging your orgasm more.

“Fuck, yes, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t. His thumb worked softly at your clit, as he curled his digits inside of you. Anyone in the entire wing could’ve heard you now, your moaning and whimpering was relentlessly loud, and gods you didn’t care at all.

He felt you clench around him, and listened to the way you became breathless for a moment before the tension unraveled itself so gracefully. As he felt you come, he stared deep into your eyes, his other hand holding the side of your face. You weren’t sure where this care or gentleness came from, but you savored it, staring back and leaning into him.

“There you go. Come for me” He reiterated, adoring the look on your face while you fell apart beneath him.

It washed over you like a giant wave of ecstasy, filling every inch of your body with an overwhelming tingling pleasure. You’d never felt an orgasm so intense before, and he worked you through every second of it.

You swore that there were stars in your eyes as you floated back to reality, and it was then that you realized you were fully holding onto him, and he was letting you.

“Should’ve got you alone a long time ago” He smirked, still looking down at you, making sure you were okay.

“I guess one of us had to make the first move, huh?”

“Don’t sass me” He playfully scoffed as he laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him.

Maybe Crosshair had a soft spot for you after all.

-

A/N: Apologies for any types my loves, I will try and check for any mistakes later!!

feedback and comments are always so encouraging and appreciated. If you enjoyed this, please let me know❤️

[obey-me-disaster]

I really like your writing and Idk if you do this kinda thing for requests but I was wondering if you could do something similar to the body swap headcannons you did a bit ago but who's swapped with who is changed like mc getting body swapped with Lucifer

I don't mind doing this sort of thing so don't worry ^-^

Here is part 1 for those who are curious!

Demon brothers x gn!MC

The Demon Brothers Swap Bodies part 2

It's been a while since the whole body switch curse. After the witch has been dealt with everything went back to normal, or as normal as things can be in Hell.

What the brothers take into account, was that the witch's coven was out for revenge, and what better way to take revenge than to cast the same body swap spell once again.

After the curse was casted, the witches went into hiding and waited for the chaos to begin.

Lucifer -> MC's body

He felt something was off about his body, but when he tried to move around he found out he was restricted by someone...or rather held down.

After a lot of turning he realized he was sandwiched between the twins. When he started to call out to them and explain themselves he noticed that something was wrong with his voice. That was the moment when the realization dawned on him.

Least to say, all the brothers were woken up by an angry 'MC' gathering all of them in the living room.

The whole affair was more then frustrating to him, seeing as he was way weaker than usual. He didn't have access to MC's pacts and some of their magic, so he was in a rather powerless position. His only saving grace was that he didn't need to deal with his sin for a while, which he didn't realize how much it affected him.

His overworking tendencies don't work as well as usual since he is in a human's body. He would have probably enjoyed it more, but he got no time to rest with the amount of work he has while in a weaker body.

After the whole incident is up he will make sure that MC gets all the rest they need. While he knew that humans were physically weaker, he didn't realize how big the gap was...and in how much danger he has put them through at the begging of the exchange.

Mammon -> Beelzebub's body

He was woken by an angry MC screaming at him. He was too busy with figuring out what he did wrong that he didn't realize right away that he was in a different body.

He didn't know what it was worse. That he, in a way, cuddled up to Lucifer for who knows how long or that MC apparently had a sleep over with the twins. He honestly didn't know who to be angry at, since everyone's bodies are mixed up, so he decided to pout in the corner.

His only saving grace when it comes to dealing with the sin of gluttony, was the fact that it's pretty similar to his own sin. Sure, he did devour everything sight, but he is also one of the brothers with the best self control when he wants so the situation wasn't as hard to control after a while...he just hopes Asmo won't question where some of his make up disappeared.

Throws a fit that MC switched bodies with another one of his brothers. It does not last for long until he realizes in whose body they are in. He will use this opportunity to get his debts paid off. Lucifer is in a human's body, so he can't do anything to him this time.

Leviathan -> Satan's body

He got so scared when 'MC' started to scream at him, he fell off his bed and a bookshelf also fell on him. He didn't know what was more confusing, the fact that he was buried in books or the fact that he was sleeping in a bed??

All of his envy and self loathing transformed into pure rage. He doesn't know how to control his anger, so out of fear of taking his frustration out on his beloved figurines, he refuses to go into his room.

His brothers had to put a silencing spell on him due to the amount of screaming from losing in video games. Funny enough, he doesn't really take his anger out on others. He is always on the verge of summoning Lotan tho. He tries summon him for moral support more than anything.

He still tried to avoid social situations, but since he is in Satan's body, the demon with connections everywhere, he can't avoid them. It's like hell for him. Pure torture. He NEEDS to recharge his social batteries. He can't deal with all of that.

Satan -> Leviathan's body

His woke up with both a back and a neck pain from sleeping in a literal bathtub. He really didn't appreciate being woken up by an angry 'MC'.

He got even more angry...actually no...jealous when he found out that Lucifer was in their body. Instead of getting angry he would get envious. He was so glad that he was good at hiding his usual sin, so it was hard for others to fully know what he was feeling from looking at him. But on the inside? He was envious to the point of anger. He never realized until that point how close the two sins are tied to each other.

Will use the fact that MC is in Lucifer's body to pull so many pranks. So many embarrassing photos and videos to be used for later some sent to Diavolo and the best part? Lucifer couldn't do anything, he was human.

The whole switching body is a drag, having to deal with a different sin is shit, but all the pranks opportunities make it almost worth it.

Asmodeus -> Belphegor's body

He was so whiny about being screamed at the first thing in the morning. Especially that his body refused to listen to him. His mind doesn't really process things at that moment. He just sees 'MC' and snuggles up to them. It takes more screaming from Lucifer for him to actually wake up.

He is horrified by the state Belphegor is in. With great effort he resists the sin of sloth and uses any and all skin care routine he knows. Same goes for hair. By the time Belphie will get his body back, it will feel like new...someone does need to check on Asmo from time to time tho...he might fall asleep in the bathtub and drown.

He might or might not try to set up Belphie with some his succubus friends he has while he is in his body...Belphie might have to stop him.

He tries to fit the sin of sloth so hard just so he can go shopping and partying it's funny. He also makes Belphegor keep up the appearances so his fans wouldn't suspect anything happened.

Beelzebub -> Mammon's body

He woke up to an angry MC screaming at him and not being in his arms...it would be an understatement to say he was not in a happy mood.

On one hand doesn't have to fight with his hunger all the time, which is nice, but on the other hand he steals everything that catches his eye without realizing. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just hides in a place only he knows of.

He has to deal with all the witches and debt collectors that come after Mammon's ass. He never realized how bad his brother's situation was and he starts feeling kind of bad for Mammon.

He takes it upon himself to protect Lucifer while he is in MC's body...which from the outside it just looks like Mammon being protective of MC. So people outside of HOL don't really see the difference at first. Only when Beel returns stuff he stole while in Mammon's body do people start questioning the situation

Belphegor -> Asmodeus's body

He hated the situation for so many reasons:

He wasn't cuddling MC anymore

'MC' was screaming at him

It's actually Lucifer in MC's body

He woke up in his brother's body, a brother that sleeps naked (Beel had to deal with the same shit with Mammon's body)

He had to stop Asmo from doing dumb stuff while in his body. He also had to put up with his nagging. He didn't even know so many types of skin care even existed...

He also refused to pay any attention to the sin of lust for the most part. Just full on ignore it.

At least he got a lot of dirt on Lucifer during this whole situation. At least something good came out of this whole situation.

He also refused to talk about the unholy amount of demons that tried to sleep with him.

Mc -> Lucifer's body

They woke up tired, with a headache and a nasty back pain by the screaming of their own body. MC couldn't function until they got at least a cup of coffee...didn't matter if they liked it before or not. Lucifer's body NEEDS IT

This whole situation is hilarious. They are suddenly one of the strongest demons in the whole Devildom?? They are so taking advantage of that.

Both to get dirt on him and to actually make it rest. After a full blown photo and video session sponsored by Diavolo they went to have a self care session Lucifer's body needed it. Eating proper meals, drinking more water instead of coffee, taking some relaxing walks and most importantly, sleeping.

They might or might have not fooled around with his powers. Just a bit...and destroyed a mountain...no one needs to know about that one. They might have just realized that Lucifer went really easy on them in the past...

No one even wants to begin about an overly proud MC. They were happy that MC was finally not shy about boasting about their power....if only they weren't in Lucifer's body.

[queenie-blackthorn]

nothing sets me crying more than reading the teasers for the wicked powers/the black volume of the dead, so why not overanalyze them and wish for death in the process (i got all of them from the page on fandom)

❗️spoilers ahead ❗️

he kissed each finger, and with each one of them spoken a word. five kisses, five words. his last.

no 🫶🫶 (im hoping this is a flashback gurl plz i hope its not the ‘lightwood death in each series’ thing coming after my life)

—————————

"oh, god, the lovebirds," magnus said, pulling the pillow off his face. "i hate happy couples."

this could be anything tbh but prolly gonna be in tbvotd

—————————

belatedly, she realized something else. "do you... have anything?"

he didnt seem to have recovered from her last comment. "but do you mean - wait, do i have what?"

she slitted her eyes at him. "something important."

"like what? the phone number for the white house?" a moment later, under her withering glare, realization dawned. "oh." his was the expression of someone who has run out of gas in the middle of the desert, miles from help. "i..."

there are literally zero names in this one but i think its gonna be smth w dru and jaime (maybe the eternidad ??) but i swear if it turns out to be a joke imma flip a table

—————————

"what if i just love you? what if i love you but i never touch you or talk about it, what would happen then?"

i think this might happen after a conversation between kit and ty where either kit says “its too dangerous to love me” or “i dont love you” and then ty replies w this

—————————

"well, its a bit ironic, isnt it?"

"what do you mean?"

"all that effort to convince you i wasnt in love with you, and here i am, dying in your arms."

this is gonna kill me i just know it, but i have a feeling its gonna be kit saying the first and third lines and hes talking to ty, and then i can imagine it saying “dont say that,” ty said furiously

—————————

his face crumpled. "he hates me," he said. "all i do is love him, but he hates me, he just hates me, i dont know why."

clearly gonna be ty talking about kit (to either livvy or dru ???)

—————————

there was nothing less sexy than an angry-looking cat on your bed.

okay this is 100% magnus’s pov in tbvotd 💀💀

—————————

"actually, its short for maximum lightwood," said magnus. "as in the most amount of lightwood you can have."

… no comment. actually, yea i do have smth to say. i love magnus.

—————————

"no one who loved you would want you to sacrifice your own happiness."

if we’re going by the thing where kit doesnt want ty to love him for his safety, then someone is gonna say this to kit for sure

—————————

alec was beginning to understand how the slings and arrows of fortune and history had shaped magnus and made him what he was. it was a delightful sort of discovery, as getting to know magnus always had been. magnus was probably the one person in the world who'd never bored him.

im craving more malec scenes please dear god

—————————

"i was thinking about monogrammed towels," said isabelle.

"my name is going to be simon lewis lovelace lightwood," said simon. "no monogrammed towels."

first off, i forgot that simon wants to take isabelles last name

second, his initials are technically S.L.L.L oh my lord

—————————

it was late, and someone was trying to break into the high warlock of brooklyn’s apartment.

​magnus bane, the high warlock in question, felt this behavior was rash and foolish. he’d been passed out on his still-made bed, too exhausted to slip under the burgundy and emerald sheets, or even take off his robe, when he heard the noise of his window sliding open. he was grateful for the robe. he felt it would be demoralizing to face housebreakers in nothing but silk pajama bottoms.

​also, the housebreakers had done nothing to deserve such a sight.

seeing magnus bane in nothing but silk pajama bottoms is the stuff of dreams

jokes (even tho i meant it with full seriousness) aside, this is definitely gonna be the opening lines of tbvotd. if it turns out to not be, i will never show my face in public again because of how sure i am right now

[hoony-parker]

Steve x reader where reader gets hurt badly by the demobats instead of eddie and Steve is trying to keep her alive. Angst but fluffy end where reader ends up surviving

a/n: thank you anon!

warnings: near death experience, angst, some sort of happy ending tho!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

w/c: 1.4k (got out of hand, i'm so so sorry)

read part two here!

you were in the eye of the storm. right in the middle, where danger swirled around you in the form of some demoniac, big and hungry bats.

they came out of nowhere. you swore you hadn't seen them coming, too blinded by the tense atmosphere there already was in the upside down. the air was thick, full of white, disgusting particules floating around like dust, and you didn't even know what the hell that actually was.

instead, you tried to focus on the demobats that continued to fly around you like vultures would fly in cirlces over a dead body.

you could only count on the protection you could get out of the wooden shield you held with one hand and the sharp, handmade spear you held with the other, hitting and pushing away the bats that flew in full speed directly at you.

they were coming one right after the other, and sometimes, they even came two at the time, attacking you from the front and the back. you weren't sure you could keep it up much longer.

"come on!" you yelled angrily at the creatures, challenging them to keep attacking you. you weren't sure why you felt you could take them all down. maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe the fear. maybe.

one of them came from behind you, wrapping its long tail around your throat, and you dropped your weapons in surprise. they took you down, pushing you to the floor until other four of them wrapped their tails to each of your limbs, holding you down until you couldn't defend yourself any longer.

you gasped for air, traying to escape out of their grasps. your senses were dialed up, and you could almost feel yourself giving up to fighting back. you could see the end coming, and it almost didn't scare you anymore.

the sky was red above you, the constant storm from the awful place you and your friends found yourselves in now hypnotizing to your hooded eyes. your heart hammered against your chest, ankles and wrists hurting from the strong grip the bats had on you.

it wasn't until you felt a sharp pain right on your stomach that your eyes widened, gasping loudly in both, fear and pain. more and more of them were coming to you, leaving the tornado of demobats around you to get their meal out of your flesh, teeths sharp and causing you excruciating pain that had you moaning and screaming.

you cried. cried, loud and clear, though nobody could hear you. you screamed, both in hopes of getting someone to hear you and come help you, and in agony. were you even sure you wanted someone to help you? you weren't that selfish. you couldn't expose one of your friends, or even your boyfriend, to this kind of danger. if this was your destiny, then so be it. you'd die knowing nobody had the same fate as you for trying to save you. and that was enough.

you weren't sure whan it stopped. you hadn't even realised the creatures around you were now laying motionless all around you, just like you. you had just the right amount of consciousness to feel lightheaded and realise you did.

you could smell the copper-like feeling all over you. it really overwhelmed you both, the smell and not knowing where it came from.

it probably was your blood, you thought. you were sure it was. but you didn't have enough strenght you look down to your body to check just how bad the wounds were.

but, god, you felt so tired. you could feel all the exhaustation from the last couple of days hit you like a brick, and you could almost feel relief when your lids started to feel heavy with sleep, finally getting some rest.

"y/n!"

the noise was faint. maybe a figment of your imagination, you thought. it probably was your brain, with its last strenght, playing you tricks to make what was about to come easier for you.

"y/n!"

it was louder now, but you didn't hold your head up to see. your eyes were still open, looking up to the reddish clouds and imagining they were the stars at home. the stars were pretty. maybe you'll be able to see one up close once you let yourself go.

you wanted to clear your throat, but felt yourself unable to. your lips were dry, almost as much as your throat. but you could still feel the copper-ish taste on your tongue, by now. it was disgusting, but you had gotten used to it, by now.

"oh, god. what did they do to you?" you heard the familiar voice whimper, voice cracking as the brown haired boy kneeled beside you, carefully taking you in hi arms. you smiled weakley.

"hey," you said. your throat burned, voice rough and broken, and steve's eyes glazed over, scanning your body, your wounds. "what did they do to you?" he asked again, this time his voice merely above a whisper. you chuckled, sound almost unexistent, some more blood falling from your lips and tainting the skin around them.

"they were rough on me," you chuckled again, coughing when the vibrations from your body made the injuries sting. steve shook his head, eyes wide and lips pulled in a frown. he cleared his throat. "we're getting you out of here. we're getting you help," his tone stern.

"okay," you whispered. your head fell back slowly, shutting your eyes just for a second. you wanted to get some rest. "no, no, no, sweetheart. stay awake from me," he rushed to say, shaking you slightly to get a quick reaction out of you.

your eyes opened almost dumbly, looking at him and giving him a small smile. "i'm just gonna..." you sighed. "rest my eyes a lil," you told him. you had to had more energy if you wanted to go get yourself some help.

"we're going to get you out of here first, baby. then you can rest as much as you want," he assured you. steve was crying by now, not even trying to hide the cracks in his voice for you. still, he kept the smile on his face to give you the feeling that everything was fine. you were going to be fine.

"c'mon, keep those eyes open for me, angel. let me see those beautiful eyes of yours," he begged.

"i'm tired, stevie," you whined, and he nodded rapidly, the smile disappearing from his face and more angry tears fell from his eyes. "i know. i know. but i need you to stay awake for me just for a little more, 'kay? can you do that for me?" he asked you, and gave you a teary smile when you bearly opened your eyes.

"that's it. good job, baby. you're doing so good. don't fall asleep on me, alright? gotta stay awake for just a few more minutes, angel. i promise."

but your eyes felt just so heavy. and the sounds around you were now deaf in your ears, all your senses focused on steve and steve only. if you could just sleep for a second—

"guys! fuck—, come on!" you heard him yell.

he looked back to you, shaking you a little more once he noticed your eyes had closed again. "hey, no. come on. just for a little while longer, sweets. please, please stay awake for me," he cried, hugging you closer to him.

the amount of blood that damped your shirt was making him dizzy just from the sight, panic getting his hands shaking and legs feeling wobbly under your weight on his lap. "did we win?" you asked quietly, and steve whipped his head to meet his gaze with yours. he nodded quickly. "yeah, angel. we won," he lied. he needed you awake, and if the excitment from winning helped in any way, he'd lie to you to get you to keep your eyes open just for a little longer.

"and you did so great out there, too, baby. so good."

he was rocking you back and forth, now, hoping the constant moving would keep you conscious. his face buried in your neck, silent tears spilling from his eyes. "so good," he repeated, and you smiled.

"steve!! come on! we're leaving!" robin yelled, waving him over to tell him they had found a way out. dustin rushed to his side, throwing a hand around your form, careful not to make contact with any of the wounds, and helped steve carry you.

he was going to get you help. you were going to be okay, and you were going to get your rest. he promised.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Clone Wars headcanons that have been rotting in my google docs

I like to believe that Padme teaches Ahsoka how to make friendship bracelets and she treats it as something sacred and spends an unholy amount of time making some for the people she cares about 

Master Plo gets the first one, Obi-Wan gets the second, Rex Cody and a couple of their boys get some more, Padme of course gets one, and Anakin gets one last 

The reason he was the last to get one is something Ahsoka will never admit out loud but she honestly wanted to take her time with his

And because of that Anakin permanently has a work of art on his wrist like everyone’s is gorgeous but his is something else entirely  

He thanks her truly and honestly thanks her and promises to keep it forever 

When Ahsoka jokingly calls him for breaking the orders rules he comments back “When have we ever listened to those rules” 

He keeps his promise too that bracelet never leaves his person 

He’s lost clothes lightsabers and even a couple of prosthetics but he always makes sure to go back for that bracelet

He eventually repays the gift in kind with a bracelet of his own 

It’s not the best made or pretties thing but Ahsoka can feel the love that was put into it so she makes the same promise he did years ago and keeps it too 

When the twins are born Ahsoka makes them both friendship bracelets 

At first they are small enough for their tiny wrists but she adds onto them as they grow older 

Ahsoka tears up when she finds that they all kept the bracelets she never thought they’d toss them or anything but seeing them decades later does hit her hard because they’re all in perfect condition 

Padme loves to “kidnap” Ahsoka whenever they have the time 

She’ll just request her protection on a diplomatic mission 

Sometimes it is an actual mission but Padme will still make time to take them to her favorite restaurants or cafes so they can have a little bit of downtime

When the war ends the tradition continues even tho everyone knows Ahsoka’s not really there as a security escort 

I find the visual of Anakin and Padme telling Ahsoka, Obi-wan, and Rex they’re married fucking hilarious 

Both Obi-Wan and Rex would try to act like they’ve been fooled truly they do but it all kinda breaks when Ahsoka asks “Wait we weren’t supposed to know?” 

Anakin is just as confused when he asks “What do you mean Soka? How could you have known?” 

And that’s when Ahsoka just starts laughing hysterically and it doesn’t take long for Obi-Wan and Rex to join in when he asks again all Ahsoka says is “Really? Kriffing look at you two” and doesn’t add much else 

Both Luke and Leia try to replicate Ahsoka’s face markings with various levels of success 

They often ask their mom for help and she’s always happy to do so Ahsoka gets filled with unimaginable amounts of joy when she sees her niece and nephew trying to look just like her 

Anakin often jokes that of course he’s not the favorite even in his own home like she’s not the first name that comes up whenever babysitting is on the table 

It’s also not a surprise that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan become the twin's space equivalent of godparents 

It seems like a necessary precaution all things considered 

Neither of them takes the role lightly but they also vow that it won’t be needed and they do everything in their power to make it so 

After most missions it is very rare for Anakin to let Ahsoka and Obi-Wan out of his sight 

Ahsoka never fights him on this and is perfectly happy to stay by his side and sleep in the living room like they often do 

Sometimes Obi-Wan is called away for a meeting with the council and can’t stay with the two but that doesn’t stop him from joining them later on in the night even if they’re asleep 

Anything beats sleeping in his cold desolate room after some of the more dangerous missions 

Sometimes they’ll go a step further and call Padme just to check in with her and have her on the line as they watch some stupid rom-com

After some of the rougher missions it wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to pass out due to the physical and mental strain 

It also wasn’t uncommon for Anakin to give her a piggyback ride back to the ship 

He finds that people shoot him less looks when he’s carrying his padawan instead of holding her in a death grip and not letting go until it’s time to leave 

A lot of people thought they’d grow out of this habit but no it’s a trend that stays throughout their lives 

It just so happens that Ahsoka grows tall enough to return the ongoing favor  

It also didn’t stop at the battlefield either 

Sometimes Anakin would find her passed out in the archives or he would get a message that she was asleep in a friend's room 

And he’d always go to get her because what’s he gonna do leave her there? 

Sometimes when Ahsokas babysitting the kids Anakin will find her in a position that Obi-Wan often told him about 

Sitting in front of the TV with the twins curled up at her side 

And while Padme deems it her job to carry the twins off to their room Anakin takes his long-time role of carrying Ahsoka to hers 

(Because if you think she wouldn’t have a room in their house you’re crazy) 

Anakin always knew Ahsoka would grow up that’s just a part of life and how the universe works 

But nothing can describe the feeling of her growing taller than him 

Envy isn’t what he feels no matter how much people suggest he does sadness isn’t either it’s something deeper than that 

Bittersweet is the closest word he could find because after all there’s nothing quite like watching your younger sibling grow up

[deadlynavigation]

Hello! how are you? I hope you are well, I love your account and I wanted to place an order with you if possible. Could you do a Male!Wednesday x Reader where the Reader is pregnant? how would he act? How would he take care of the baby when it was born? I hope the request is not too strange and I hope you can attend to it, have a good day.

HC: Pregnancy

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of labor, swearing, grave robbing, mentions of castration, electrocution, serial killing, and beheading; mention of sex. (sorry guys it's wednesday 😭)

Author's Note: Oh my gosh you are so sweet, thank you for the request. This was a fun one. And honey I have gotten way weirder requests than this one. Side note tho, if you ever want to request something again make sure you specify headcanon or oneshot, etc. I made this one a headcanon- I hope that it's satisfactory.

(Navigation)

This experience would be entirely new to him

Someone he loves -romantically, at that- is creating and carrying something he’ll love just as much?

He’s obviously overjoyed, but scared as fuck

So he does everything in his power to prepare

The amount of books and tomes he would dig out of the library (and sometimes graves) would start forming a pile on your nightstands the second you tell him the news

Books like How To Raise Your Demon, Surviving and Dying In Parenthood, and What To Expect When You’re Expecting are always either in the corner or tucked away in Wednesday’s arm

And every single day without fail you’ll find your husband reading one of his newly-stolen books, brooding in the sitting room with the straightest posture and most panicked eyes you’ve ever seen

That’s normally when you yank the book from him, walk over to the window, and watch as it drops further and further from you both and into the bushy gardens below

Lots of affirmative kisses from your end

He's probably more anxious than usual but refuses to show it, so just in case, you make it a habit to pepper his face in pecks every ten minutes or so

But at the end of the day, when you're both in bed and cuddled up next to each other

Wednesday is fully relaxed, knowing that he holds his world (and a little addition to that world) in his arms

Besides the prep, this man is also a monstrosity when it comes to your wellbeing

He’s not going to be too protective, and he’s not going to monitor you

But he’s going to call in five different doctors the second you’re feeling under the weather

Your temperature is high? Doctor.

Your feet are sore? Doctor.

Your nausea has you bedridden? Doctor.

And since it’s the only aspect of your pregnancy he’s been a bit feral about, you let him. You know it makes him feel better and it's nice to know he has your back

The baby being born is probably one of the most stressful times of Wednesday’s life

He’s next to you the entire time, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you deem necessary while he sits there with a stoic face

Every so often he’ll look down to where your face is scrunched in pain and effort, and lay a comforting kiss on your forehead or cheek

You want to slap him for it

There were times where he had to leave the room because of the danger you presented to his well being

Phrases such as: kiss me again and I’ll rip your dick off with my teeth; appreciate your head now because after I’m done, I’m getting your ass on a chopping block; and his personal favorite, I am not above using that electrocution chair to make sure there are no more potential children left within you

So yeah his mom made him leave

When your labor finally stopped after a grueling 13 hours, Wednesday is the first by your side, staring at you in awe as he brushes your hair back

He cries when he holds his baby for the first time

I am a firm believer that Wednesday wouldn’t care about the baby’s gender

Anyone can be a serial killer, no matter if they’re a boy or girl

So either would be treated with the utmost respect and love

As would you- you’re still recovering from labor, as well as caring for your beautiful child

So he dotes on the both of you (but would deny it if anyone asked)

He’s the one that gets up with the child in the night, unless he’s so deep in sleep that he could be mistaken for a corpse

And you take care of the child during the day

It’s pretty much an equal split, one that took time to master after many fights and sleepless nights

But aside from those difficulties

There have been many instances of you and Wednesday standing over your baby’s gothic crib, his hand snaked around your waist and your head leaning on his chest as you admire your creation

Or when you’re feeding the baby, and Wednesday just looks on, observing. When you’re finished, he’ll come to calmly take the child from you, take his time to lay them to sleep, and kiss you fiercely while murmuring how incredibly attractive you are

And though sex isn’t an option right then and there, the intimacy between you two is strong

Overall, the experience has brought you closer together and shown just how deep your problem-solving skills and trust with each other truly are