#((Is there such a thing as TOO sassy/sarcastic?))

[gyaruhana]

pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead. 

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud. 

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been. 

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face. 

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side. 

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time. 

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this. 

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck. 

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down. 

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him. 

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level. 

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe. 

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being. 

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum. 

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out. 

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling. 

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead. 

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 10)

"Did you make the water too hot?" Kyle asked as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in fresh clothes after sweating all over yourself and Johnny. His eyes dilated briefly as he took in your softened appearance after the shower, his wings and talons twitching subtly, but he remained still.

"No...? I think... just warm...?" You mumble, shruging quietly.

"Okay, okay, good... can't be turning the water on too hot when you have a fever now, can we?" He rumbles, rounding your smaller body for a bit.

"It's not... it's really not that high of a fever..." You mumble shyly, keeping your eyes anywhere but on the Harpy.

"Nonsense." He croons quietly, his wing gently pushing you forward. "Are you still hungry, baby?"

"N-No..., no, thanks, I'm full...."

Which, you actually were. Sure, you didn't eat barely enough for hybrid standards, but you're human, and you're small... it was enough for you. Besides, John's bean and bacon soup was really good. You're pretty sure you ate even more than usual (even if it was mostly liquid).

"Good. But really, if you need anything, just tell us, yeah?" He smiles with that gentle tone of voice, like he couldn't hurt a fly, and....

Yeah, this guy was weird. Not that you would call Kyle outright fake, but... the wolf in sheep's clothing thing is very real.

You heard how he talks to his mates when you're 'not around'. But with you? It's just those weird, bird-like, cooey noises mixed with his gentle voice.

"Kyle, come 'ere." Simon's gruff tone came from behind you, the Wraith approaching you both with a raised brow and analytical eyes. "What's up with your wings?"

Kyle's face immediatly dropped, eyes squinting in annoyance as he turned to stare at his mate. That gave you the opportunity to see his wings for yourself, and... yeah, they looked a little messy, kinda.

"Nothing, hun. Why do you ask?"

Oh... oh, this sarcastic and sassy tone, accompanied by this fake, sweet smile, was definetly more up to Kyle's alley. So much, in fact, that Simon barely reacted besides a small impavient grunt.

"All unkept. Not like ya, bird." Then, his eyes fall on you, making you tense up a little in attetion. "Sick chick causing you stress?"

"Ugh, Si..." Kyle grumbles, frowning in displeasure. "I'm busy right now, so-"

"No, none of that." The wraith interrupts, walking over to the two of you before easily picking you up on his arms, a small squeak leaving your lips in surprise. "Go take care of them. Some nice an' good preaning, yeah? Call Price to help. Can't have you like this now, can we, bird?"

He drawls his words so slowly and paciently, it makes you think this man really have experience with children. It makes you want to do anything he says too, but this is probably just your feelings since Kyle's expression was pretty much one of displeasure, uncertainty and annoyance.

"The chick-"

"The chick's with me. And she's going to stay with me the whole time. No need to worry. I'll keep 'er safe an' healthy."

You flush slightly as he press your cheek against his, the slight stubble on his cheek scratching against your smooth one. Tho, you do calm down a bit as you feel his cool skin against your warm face.

"Hmm.... it's not worse. Actually, it feels like it has gone down a bit. You can go, Kyle."

It's not the tone, but his words seem almost... harsh. Not that Kyle seemed to mind. He just sighed in defeat with a small nod of his head as he retreated to the bathroom.

You watched as he went, eyes fixed on his wings. It was mostly curiosity that made you want to know more about Harpies, but you can't deny they were so freaking impressive. Big and beautiful wings, a tail that matched the pretty feathers on the wings. The shiny, black talons were just as pretty as they were intimidating.

"His wings are pretty, ain' they?"

You startle a little at Simon's voice, turning to stare at him properly as he carried you through the hallway.

"Harpies pride themselves in having those pretty and polished feathers.... Actually, their lives are their wings, really. They are always making sure they are in perfect state, both in health and in apperance..." He sides eye you carefully before speaking again. "Unless, something more important is taking their time."

"I-important...??" You question immediatly, flustered and surprised. "I... no..."

"Yes, kid. You're important to him. To us. You're our kid now, you know that."

"I'm... I'm just a foster... not really a..." You struggled to say more, not quite brave enough to outright disagree with your foster parent, but not really agreeing with his exaggerated words.

"But you're part of our pack now, kid. Even if you're a foster for now."

You just sigh slightly at his words, seeing this is taking you no where. Maybe that's just how it is with hybrids...

Wait, what did he say?

"W-wha... what do you mean, for no-"

"The point is, Harpies are a very parental species." He says easily, ignoring your small, indignated words as he keeps talking. You, of course, immediatly shut up despite your surprise. "So Kyle can get pretty stressed when there's a new addition to the nest."

He stops to analyze you for a second before ressuming his walk once again.

"Such a small, defenseless little thing too..." He grunts, his buff arms tightening around you a little more. "No wonder it's messin' with everyone's intincts. You're sleepin' in the pack's nest tonight."

Your eyes widen immediatly, caught off guard. Simon has managed to throw you for a loop at least four times since this conversation began.

"Pack's nest...?" You try to question quietly, clearly alarmed, but not wanting to sound disrespectful or rude.

God knows sounding or looking rude to your foster parents never end up in good things. Even your small act of not unpacking your backpack has caused comotion in an old foster house you used to stay at.

"Yes, kid. Pack's nest. Gonna be sleepin' with us, where we can keep an eye on ya and be there if you need help."

"B-because I'm sick...?"

He nods calmly, finally reaching the door to his room and pushing it open for you to look inside. It’s the room closest to yours—the master bedroom. You remember thinking it should have been where your room was. After all, what kind of house puts the children’s bedroom at the very end of the hallway?

Still, their bedroom was stunning. Spacious, with a massive nest carved into the ground at its center. The mattress inside looked both sturdy and soft, layered with neatly arranged blankets and pillows. Unlike your pastel-toned room, it wasn’t bursting with color, but it wasn’t dull either. The decor featured earthy and beige tones mingled with blacks and reds, visible in the furniture.

Very... modern and stylish.

"This is where ya'll sleep."

You nodded a little, brows still slightly furred. Maybe in worry, maybe a bit in fear. You weren't used to all of this.

"Right..., sleep... with you four...?"

"Yeah, kid." He nods, rubbing your back carefully to try and confort you. "What do you take us for? Neglectful parents? To leave our baby away from us when they're sick and weak?"

Okay, now he sounded more offended than calm.

"It's... normal, isn't it...?" You mumble, a little confused. "Otherwise... you could get sick too... sometimes..."

He scoffed at your words, shaking his head.

"Us? Getting sick from a human virus? If our immune system was that weak, we’d have died long ago eating those mystery rations during the Outpost Beta mission."

You raise a brow at his deadpan words, expression pinching in confusion and worry as the silence stretches between you two for a few heavy seconds.

"That was a joke."

"Uhum..." You hummed lightly, expression not changing much.

"What I mean is, we’re not getting sick, don’t worry, kid. And maybe it’s normal in human households to leave their children on their own when they’re sick, but that’s not how we do things here."

You quickly notice faint wisps of shadow curling from his gloved hands and masked face, the white of his eyes darkening to an ominous shade. A literal chill runs down your spine as the temperature around you drops. It makes you freeze in uncertainty in his arms, eyes wide as you stare into those shadowy, unrecognizable eyes.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for him to recompose himself. You’re not sure what triggered this, but he seems to calm down relatively quickly. The shadowy wisps started to dissipate, and his eyes gradually returned to their normal color too.

"Well, come on now. John wants to check on your condition." He says calmly, like he didn't just lose control for a few seconds there, turning to walk all the way back and down the stairs with you still on his arms.

You really should learn more about them. Like, quickly, cuz all these surprises are making you light-headed.

Part 9 / Part 11

[tarotwithavi]

Facts about your future spouse

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Masterlist - Extended masterlist - Paid services

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Don't forget to like and reblog to show support 🫶🏻

PILE 1

Their mother might be strict or might have german accent. She has a tough way with words.

You might meet them at UNI or an Educational Institute. You can also meen them in foreign land.

Italy or Italian architecture might be significant.

They have really attactive and big hands. It seems that they take good care of their hands.

They might have a butterfly tattoo somewhere on their body. Or butterflies might be significant.

They might have tanned or olive skin.

They might love dogs and can have dogs as pet. Especially white furred dogs.

They might have a uniquely shaped belly botton lol.

Women in their family wear a lot of red or red color might have some significance in their family.

They might have Leo, Capricorn, Gemini or Libra as their sun moon or rising.

They have an oddly specific pet peeve, like people who chew too loud or use too many emojis.

Their handwriting changes depending on their mood, and even they don’t understand why.

PILE 2

Your future spouse has a weirdly specific skill like solving a Rubik’s cube in under a minute or knowing way too much about a niche topic.

They will absolutely roast you for your bad decisions, but in the most loving way possible. A bit sassy and sarcastic.

They always find money in the most random places lol like pockets, couch cushions, even inside books they haven’t opened in years.

They have strong opinions about tea vs. coffee. they may prefer tea over coffee.

They have a really soothing voice, the kind that makes you feel safe, even when they’re ranting about something completely ridiculous.

They are the type of person who adopts strays—animals, plants, and sometimes even chaotic people who just need a little guidance.

They have a love-hate relationship with technology. They might be a genius at fixing things but also somehow manage to break their phone charger every two months.

You’re going to have an inside joke so ridiculous that saying just one word will send you both into uncontrollable laughter.

They have a very specific way of organizing things that only they understand. You’ll think their desk is a mess, but if you move one thing, they’ll notice immediately.

When they’re focused, they zone out completely.

PILE 3

They give the best pep talks, but in a brutally honest way. They won’t sugarcoat things.

They have a weirdly strong intuition. They might casually predict things without realizing it, like saying, "I have a feeling it's going to rain," and suddenly there's a thunderstorm.

If they start a book, show, or game, they have to finish it, even if they hate it. They’ll suffer through it just because they need to know how it ends.

They always get the perfect gift for people. It’s like they have a sixth sense for what will make someone’s heart explode with happiness. (Meanwhile, they’ll say they’re “bad at gifts.” Lies.)

When they’re really focused, they talk to themselves without realizing it.

They’ve gone through something really tough in the past, and because of it, they have become really resilient.

Their sneeze is either ridiculously tiny or absurdly loud. No in-between.

They always hum random songs but never realize they’re doing it.

They take their food way too seriously like personally offended if fries aren’t crispy enough.

They have an unreadable expression that makes it impossible to tell if they’re joking or dead serious.

Tarotwithavi © all rights reserved.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Bite me, Love

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Charlie Weasley loves his girl how he loves his dragons. AKA Charlie loves it when his girl bites.

WC: 1k

CW: Cussing, biting, and a bit sexual leaning

Charlie Weasley had a thing for fire.

It showed in everything he loved- his dragons, his job, the way his hands were always a little calloused from handling creatures that could (and would) turn a man to ash without a second thought. He liked things wild, untamed, full of passion and fight.

Which is why, when he met you, it all made perfect sense.

Because you were just like his dragons.

Stand-offish. Sarcastic. Sassy as all hell. And prone to overwhelming bouts of affection that usually ended in your teeth sinking into his skin.

Like now.

It was early- too early. The sun barely peeked through the window of your shared bedroom, casting a golden glow over the tangled mess of sheets and limbs. You were curled into Charlie’s side, trapped in the warmth of his arms, his rough palm smoothing over your back in lazy circles. He was a furnace, always running hot, and you should have been grateful for it in the chilly morning air.

But he was being too affectionate. Too soft.

And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re warm,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “Could stay like this forever.”

You grumbled something unintelligible into his chest, refusing to let your heart melt at the way his fingers traced absentminded patterns into your skin.

He chuckled, clearly picking up on your growing restlessness. “What, can’t handle a bit of affection, love?”

His teasing was met with a sharp bite to his shoulder.

Charlie didn’t even flinch. If anything, he laughed “Merlin, you’re worse than Norberta,” he mused, pulling you closer instead of retreating. “You know, she bit me the first time I tried to feed her. Damn near took off my hand.”

You growled- actually fucking growled- and bit him again, this time at the curve of his bicep, the firm muscle giving slightly under your teeth.

Charlie let out an appreciative hum, completely unbothered. If anything, he sounded pleased.

“Fuck, I love that,” he admitted, voice dipping low.

You huffed against his skin, barely resisting the urge to do it again just to shut him up.

It wasn’t just the mornings when this happened.

It was whenever Charlie got too much.

When he wrapped himself around you on the couch, arms and legs tangling with yours like he wanted to merge into your very being. When his hands got a little too handsy, slipping under your shirt absentmindedly while he talked, utterly unaware of how flustered you were becoming.

When he leaned in too close, eyes burning with mischief, lips quirking into that goddamn smirk.

That’s when your instincts kicked in.

Like an overstimulated cat- except instead of claws, you had teeth.

And Charlie? The absolute menace of a man adored it.

“Didn’t realize I’d be dating a feral little thing,” he teased one night after you nearly bit his knuckles when he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You’d glared at him, half mortified and half infuriated. “Then leave.”

“Not a chance,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin, “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

And fuck if that didn’t make your stomach twist into knots.

But it was worse when he knew.

When he realized exactly what his affection did to you.

And, worse still, when he used it against you.

Like now.

You were still trapped in bed, your limbs tangled with his, his broad chest rising and falling beneath your cheek. The warmth of him was suffocating in the best way, his scent- embers and earth, something deeply, irritatingly comforting- enveloping you entirely.

He shifted, just enough to make you hyper-aware of the solid weight of him, of the arm still wrapped around your waist, fingers splayed against the curve of your back like he had no intention of letting go.

“Hmm,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep. “Still pouting?”

You scowled, refusing to lift your head.

Charlie huffed out a laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

You bit him. Again.

Hard.

Right on the curve of his collarbone.

Charlie groaned. And fuck, the sound sent a jolt of heat straight to your stomach.

It was barely a second before he moved, suddenly rolling you beneath him, pinning you to the mattress with nothing but his weight.

You gasped, hands automatically bracing against his chest, fingers digging into the solid muscle.

He grinned, slow and smug, his stubble brushing against your cheek as he leaned in. “That’s not very nice, love.”

You glared up at him, breathing uneven. “Then let me go.”

Charlie tilted his head, considering. And then- because he was a menace- he leaned down, his lips brushing over your jaw, his stubble scraping just enough to make you shiver. “Not a chance.”

His voice was rough, teasing, but something deeper simmered beneath it, something possessive.

You clenched your jaw, your pulse thundering, your body caught between the instinct to fight and the overwhelming urge to give in.

You hated- hated- how easily he unraveled you.

Charlie chuckled, completely unbothered by your internal battle. “Go on, love,” he murmured, dragging his lips lower, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Bite me again.”

You shuddered, fisting your hands in his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

And Charlie- fucking Charlie- just waited, watching you.

His gaze burned into yours, blue eyes half-lidded, his expression one of utter satisfaction, of someone who knew exactly how much he affected you.

“You love this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Don’t you?”

You grit your teeth. “Fuck. You.”

Charlie smirked. “That an invitation?”

You let out a strangled noise- half groan, half exasperation- and, finally, sank your teeth into his shoulder.

He growled this time, the sound rumbling low in his throat, and before you could react, his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Overwhelming.

And so fucking unfair.

Because Charlie Weasley had a thing for fire.

And he’d never loved anything more than you.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) captain price nsfw alphabet with p-links, 𝒶⸺𝓏

𝒜 = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) : john, as i've stated before, is very touchy. he likes having his hands on you in any way that he can. so he'll pull you to his chest as the two of you catch your breath and run his hands along your body, pressing kisses to the crown of your hairline. you usually end up dozing off before john does and so he takes the initiative to grab a warm, damp cloth and clean up the mess of cum between your thighs. after he's done, he'll hop right back into bed and pull you flush to his body, sliding his hands along the expanse of your thighs and counting each beauty mark and mole along your body in the dim lighting of the room until he eventually falls asleep. [connected to this post and this one as well!]

𝐵 = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) : john's favorite body part of his would have to be his hands. they're big and calloused from work and he enjoys gently grasping your hips with them when he pulls you in for a slow kiss. he also adores how much you love them as well, his hands swamping yours whenever the two of you interlock fingers with each other. now john has an obsession with your lips, for him, they convey your emotions much better than words ever could. he can tell when you're annoyed with him by the purse of your lips. can tell when you're feeling shy by the slight upturn of the corner of your mouth. can tell when you're being sassy and sarcastic with the cute smirk that'll grace your lips and also when you're feeling sad by the way your lips curl in on themselves to form a line, and perhaps that's not a body part but it's his absolute favorite.

𝒞 = cum (anything to do with cum basically... i’m a disgusting person) : john's cum is pearl white in color and it's sticky and thick and there's always so much of it when he cums for the first time. the taste of his cum is slightly salty but it's not overbearing, you love the taste of him. price prefers to cum inside of you rather than anywhere else, this only started after john saw you holding your friend's newborn baby in your arms, it's been john's mission to impregnate you since then. [connected to this post!]

𝒟 = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) : it's no secret that john is older than you, there's an obvious age gap and some people may sneer at your relationship (as you're in your mid to late twenties and john is thirty-seven.) during playful banters between you and john, your go-to "insult" is always, "old man", "yes, daddy." or something along those lines. and despite himself, price always finds that he's thick and hard in his pants. he won't ever tell you that though.

𝐸 = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) : okay, price isn't the type to sleep around, he's had some occasional flings here and there, but that's about it. that doesn't mean he's inexperienced though, john puts in work. he studies your reactions and what you like. a delicious roll of his hips has him hitting that spongey little spot inside of you. licking his thumb before planting it on your clit to rub quick figure eights, has your thighs shaking and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer, and whispering lewd things in your ear and kissing you all sloppily in his pussy drunk state? has your cunt leaking all over the place. john price knows how to fuck and make love, he's perfect.

𝐹 = favorite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) : hm, john's favorite position is called the 'g-whiz' it's a stupid name lowkey but it gives him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock. it also gives him access to your g-spot and your clit as well. three birds with one stone (he loves watching your tits bounce too.)

𝒢 = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) : it's a mix. there are times when the two of you are going at it like bunnies and perhaps bump heads a bit too hard. or maybe one of you trips while pulling off a piece of clothing-- there's going to be obvious laughter. during softer sex, where john's thrusts are deep and rolling, slow and intimate--- his gaze is always so full of his adoration for you and it leaves you breathless at times. he kisses gently, whispering words of love to you and smiling at the tears that sting your eyes. so yeah, he's a mix.

𝐻 = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) : john, before he met you, wasn't really sexually active, and so he didn't keep up with grooming himself, there was no need for him to. he was out in the field for weeks on end at a time and when he was off the field all he wanted to do was relax and sleep as much as he could before he had to go back out for another mission. after he met you, however, he wanted to groom himself. not that you seemed to care, nor had you ever complained. but he did it anyways. so, price's hair is brown, nicely trimmed, with no scraggly hairs in sight.

𝐼 = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) : please, john is madly in love with you and he himself knows it and he loves to make it known to you often, even outside of sex. price loves keeping eye contact with you, whether it's through a mirror, while you're riding him, or in any other position that allows the two of you to be face to face. he loves watching the small ticks in your expression as he grinds his hips into yours, cock sinking into you at the most excruciatingly slow pace he's ever gone. loves the way your cheeks flush and your cunt squeezes him when he calls you his, "pretty girl." this man also says 'i love you' often, and it's always so genuine, you never grow tired of hearing him say it. (he definitely doesn't kiss your chin when you give him an annoyed pouty look at his slow pace, he definitely doesn't apologize and speed up either.)

𝒥 = jack off (masturbation headcanon) : i find it hard to picture price masturbating, but i believe he does so when he's away from home for weeks on end, but it's not mindless masturbation like most men are prone to doing. john, when he's away from you for long periods of time, gets almost…needy?? in a way. this man misses you like no other, he misses the smell of you, your loving touches, your smile, your cooking, you pulling him to the living room floor to dance, your horrible singing when the two of you shower together and god he misses the sound of your voice. and this feeling is all so new to him and it's almost overwhelming. 

so when price has the downtime, he calls you, it's a spur-of-the-moment call and when you pick up, he can hear the thickness of sleep in your voice; he feels selfish and a bit foolish, he was acting like a horny teenager. however, after hearing the excitement in your voice and the surprise, he can only smile and ask how everything has been at home. who would've thought that the sound of your voice, all sleepy and soft would get him hard and thick within his cargos? who also would've thought that john price would unzip himself to pull out his rigid cock, tip leaking with pearlescent pre-cum and pulsing in his large hand. yes, john ends up fucking his fist to the sound of your voice, humming and grunting softly to signify that he's listening to you, thighs tensing and heart hammering in his ribcage. i mean, what you don't know won't hurt you.

𝒦 = kink (one or more of their kinks) : hear me out, roleplay, please! wait, think about it, perhaps it's not full-on roleplay but it's something of the sort, john gets a raging boner when you call him 'captain price' mockingly or 'sir'. another would have to be breeding, john wants to knock you up so bad it's almost an obsession, would love to see you swollen with his child, most definitely says something along the lines of. "good girl, wan' t'get you pregnant so bad. you'd like that, hm?" during sex. a mild voice kink? loves the sound of your voice and almost always cums instantly when you beg him to fill you up.

𝐿 = location (favorite places to do the do) : don't really see john being too much of an exhibitionist but the two of you have had sex outside at a park, while on a picnic. you had crawled into his lap and kissed him softly, pleadingly, blinking your pretty little lashes at him and i mean; who is he to say no to your greedy little cunt? however, he prefers to do it in the comfort of your shared home. ♡

𝑀 = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) : your teasing. whether it be playful or sexual it always riles price up. it's one of the many things that he loves about you, your sense of humor. and you express it well, not just through your actions or your words but also through your eyes, they're always so expressive and glittering with light mischief that he can't help but sweep you off your feet, throw you over his shoulder, and carry you into the bedroom.

𝒩 = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) : hurting you in any way, there are some things he's a bit lenient on if you like it; like choking and light slapping but other than that, it's a no for price. man loves you too much to do anything of the sort.

𝒪 = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) : as much as john loves having his cock buried down your throat, watching as you stare up at him with tear-stained cheeks, your mouth and chin covered in spit and his cum— he enjoys eating you out. he loves the taste of you on his tongue, loves to overstimulate you, loves to control your orgasms, loves to hear you beg and roll your hips on his tongue. if john could he'd spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, large hands gripping the fat of your hips to keep you still as your thighs quiver and your pussy pulses from being too sensitive, he would. well shit, i guess that should be one of john's kinks too then, huh?

𝒫 = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) : price is usually slow and sensual, with fervent deep strokes, tender kisses, and whispered murmurs of love. what can he say? he loves showing that he loves you in all that he does. however, on the days when he comes home after a mission gone awry or being away for a long time in general, he's gonna be fast and rough; using your body any way he pleases. on days like this, he prefers you in 'doggy style' or even the 'mating press', and immediately gives you cuddles afterward though, telling you briefly of his mission as you run your hands through his hair. ♡

𝒬 = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) : hm, john isn't one for quickies, i mean he doesn't mind a quickie, the park sex that the two of you had was a quickie after all. but i believe he much prefers proper sex, that way he can pull orgasm after orgasm from you and take his time as well. 

𝑅 = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) : john is down to try something at least once, especially if it's something that you want to try. not too long ago, you handcuffed price to the bed and edged him until he had literally begged you to let him cum, it was quite the sight and he's down to do it again. 

𝒮 = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) : give this man two good rounds, and then he's tuckered out. however he doesn't mind if you're still reeling to go, he'll pull you onto his lap and let you ride him until you're sated. or even make you ride his face, he could never deny you anything after all. 

𝒯 = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) : y'all hear me out once more....vibrating panties. rahhhh, hold on hold on. you guys use it when you're out on walks, at restaurants and sometimes even at dinners with your friends. man gets bricked up at the sight of you squeezing your thighs together, breathless and completely out of it. however, in the bedroom, price is all you need, the man is much better than any toy.

 𝒰 = unfair (how much they like to tease) : teases you often, whether it be with overstimulation, ruining your orgasms, or even having you beg him to let you cum. the man, believe it or not, likes to see your eyes water and your lips pout. loves that he can get his sassy, fiery wife all squirmy and pleading with just a few strokes of his tongue. 

𝒱 = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) : john is not shy, he'll tell you how good you're making him feel, not with just his deep, guttural groans, but also with words. price is the king of dirty talk and he does it unknowingly, he most definitely curses when he's moaning as well, drawn out 'fucks' and at when your pussy squeezes him tight, he'll say. "shit, sweetheart y'r pussy s'made for me." calls you the lewdest names known to man, but says it so lovingly that you can't help but be turned on even more than you already are.

𝒲 = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) : has definitely had you suck him off while underneath his desk while on a computer call with laswell. poor baby, his face was pink from holding in his moans, especially after you buried him to the hilt down your throat. totally didn't get caught or anything.

𝒳= x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) : the picture speaks for itself. ♡

𝒴 = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) : you guys, price is 37, atp? he's 40, it may not be as it used to be when he was younger but! he puts in the work and most times tires you out before he tires out.

𝒵 = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) : it takes awhile for price to succumb to sleep, no matter how tired he is. so it's usually you falling asleep first. he lays there, holding you close and running his hands along your back and then further. he'll drift off to the sound of your slow breathing and the steady rhythm of your heart.  ♡

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : the full alphabet! ahem, i enjoyed doing this

[genderqueerdykes]

Why did it suddenly become "cool" (/sarcastic) to hate on trans men? What happened

excellent question, because that is literally what is happening right now. people literally think it's trendy, cool, and acceptable to shit on trans men right now. people think that's what they're supposed to do. people think the queer community is basically the "shit on trans men and anyone perceived to be an afab trans person" community have decided to just let loose and say whatever they want

it's literally disturbing. people now find reasons to misgender trans men on purpose. people love mocking our choices in identity, clothing, makeup, terms, pronouns, identities and communities. we are not safe no matter what we do. too masculine, pass too hard as a man? deserve to be kicked out of queer spaces because we're "too scary" or "read as cis men". too femme, dress feminine, act feminine, are a femme gay? "just a cishet girl" and want to kick you out. people scrutinize trans men and mascs, and afab trans people under this lens like we're bugs. no matter what we do it's wrong in their eyes

"do we really need more men?" is such a shit question. yea? cuz they were already men to begin with? they were already there. care about men, this isn't hard. you can care about men who haven't hurt you. it's the right thing to do. men are a part of your community, no attempt at a sassy clapback will ever erase the fact that the homeless cishet man who has never hurt you on the corner needs a dose or two of narcan to save his life. nothing will ever erase the fact that we need to care about trans men and mascs is basic common sense

i will continue to be the annoying trans men's rights activist. the behavior you mentioned here is just ridiculous, and i'm glad people are starting to question it. the man hating in the queer community is out of control. people are willingly clock in to spread rad feminism like it's their jobs. i cannot believe people are openly admitting to be rad fems now more than ever. hatred for trans men is rad feminist. hating on trans men is a rad feminist act.

everyone needs to stop clocking in to do rad fem's jobs for them. love your trans brothers, fathers, siblings, sons, children, partners, parents, neighbors, community members, whoever. love the trans men around you, we're not an inherent danger or problem. you don't get a pass to misgender us because we're men and you hate men. man hating is rad feminism. stop clocking in to do their work for them! thanks for the ask, hope you have a great week.

[mixingandmelting]

Hi! If you are accepting requests right now can you please write how batboys will act around fem! reader when they are in love/crushing on her? Also getting jealous when their crush gives more attention to someone else other than them?

If you are not accepting requests right now then you don't have to write it thank you anyways ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: This was such a classic and fun to write anon! Thanks for the request ❤️

Dick

He constantly craves for your attention, wanting you to look at him as much as he looks and thinks about you. Always keeping you on your toes with affectionate teasing, intentionally pushing your buttons to get you to chase after him, or pulling pranks enjoying how he surprises you using his acrobatic skills and stealth. He even performs parlor-magic tricks including the one where all of a sudden there’s a rose in his hand after brushing the stray hair behind your ear and tucking it into your hair. He loves how adorable you look when annoyed as much as hearing you praise him from being impressed, but the fact he can get you to focus on him and only him sends him over the moons. 

When he gets jealous, he tries not to get obvious. He behaves as if he’s also interested in the other person you’ve been giving your attention to, asking about mundane things to see how you feel and think of them. But when your replies are filled with positives and not the typical meh, he gets moody and might leave to brood for a bit.  He doesn’t appreciate competition when he’s busting his butt to win you over, desiring to be the only person in your eyes and heart. When you’re talking to them, he casually slides into the conversation and acts normal. Body relaxed, cracking jokes and laughing. Everything seems fine except he stays close to your side, where if you move a bit, he moves too so he stays exactly where his spot is- right next to you. 

Jason

The way he acts is as if he’s back being the second Robin prior to his death. The jokes he cracks and the replies he gives are more light-hearted while found more frequently, genuinely smiling and laughing when with you. He’s a bit more mindful with what or how he states things, not wanting to hurt you. This includes him getting apologetic if his words come out too rough. One could argue he’s being shy and self-conscious if only he was actually self-aware he’s acting like this. He knows how to act charming, having picked up girls a few times. Having a crush, though, is a completely new, uncharted-territory for him. The only thing that comes in his mind is to show his best sides, hoping that he won’t scare you off and he’d be able to stay with you longer while making you happy when he’s around. 

He is not good at handling jealousy at all. There’s tension in his body and gets smart-mouthed whenever he attempts to break the conversation going between the other person and you. Luckily for him, his behavior comes off as him being sassy since he does restrain himself as he’s in front of you. Eventually he gets the other to scram as he continues to stand behind you, sending an intimidating glare that’s backed up by his height and muscles. He’s more quiet and stiff, getting extra sarcastic and a bit dark humored in his replies when you won’t stop talking about them, hating and irritated by the ugly emotions he has. Even more so when it’s not actually your fault, it’s his for being in love with you. 

Tim

He’s very attentive towards you. Always texting you, seeing how things are, wanting to know if you’re okay while sending a message back as soon as he gets one from you, basically making himself your go-to texting buddy. He’s quick to pick out your likes and dislikes, keeping a mental note of them whenever he’s inviting you to go somewhere or getting you something. He acts a bit impulsive subconsciously, giving you a hug out of the blue when he gets excited or nerding out over something or grabbing your hand so he can get you to see one of the best scenes he knows you’ll ever see. He won’t ever admit it but he tends to be extra when skateboarding in front of you, enjoying how you get awestruck with the tricks he shows. 

When you’re giving someone else more attention, he slides into the conversation and will try to turn the conversation away from you. Polite business smile that doesn’t reach his eyes while standing close, right next to you, yes he is intentionally trying to imply something without you knowing . When you talk about them, he listens but snorts and does not agree with any good comment you make. May drop some questions here and there to see what you think of them. The only reason it only goes that far though  is because he already did a background check on them, so he can get a good idea if the other party is within the realm of your interest or not. 

Duke

He’s extremely jumpy and hyper aware. Physical touching is a no-go where he’ll flinch, jump, or stiffen up. Literally, if you accidentally brush hands against his, he’s shooting that hand up as if he’s raising his hand for class. His face is on fire if you get too close and when he talks with you, he’s needing to put in twice the effort to pay attention to what you’re saying since his mind keeps trailing off on how good you looked for today. Thankfully he’s able to still act like himself whenever you guys talk, still being sarcastic and real. Just, he comes off as being weird making him wonder why he can’t act naturally and play things down-to-earth. 

If you’re paying attention to someone more than him whether it’s talking about them more than usual (in his perspective) or talking with them physically (again in his perspective), he’s the type to get uncomfortable and portray unease. Contrary to his usual sarcastic self, he gets quiet and at some point might try to change the topic to something else. He doesn’t interrupt the conversation when you’re talking with the other person since he doesn’t know how to act in situations without making you realize he has a crush on you. He does manage to stay polite when he’s suddenly mentioned or dragged into the conversation, but there’s a lot of awkwardness because he doesn't want to continue talking with them. 

Damian

He’s extremely hot and cold, acting exactly how little kids tend to act around their crush. He teases you a lot, making so many remarks and snarky comments over things that aren’t even significant. He absolutely loves to show off the things he’s capable of doing in all fields, wanting to hear you and just you on how amazing he is. He is very possessive of you where if you got a new pen or eraser from someone, he’ll get rid of it and replace it with or without you noticing with something he gets you instead. It only happened once or twice though. He usually intercepts it before the gift gets to you. 

It’s because of this, he gets jealous really easily. When you’re giving more attention to someone, he’ll be sending them the look that shows that the other signed a visit from death. That or one that screams for the other to leave or else. He’ll be criticizing starting from hair to shoes, nothing left behind. He’ll go low enough and start a childish fight with you over how you’re constantly talking about the other party,  bringing them up in every conversation. And it’s only because he feels as though you aren’t appreciating his presence in your life, feeling threatened that you’d not want to be with him anymore because he isn’t good enough.

[roxan1930]

Kinda tempted to writ a what-if fic where in Silver Flames, when Nesta is given the "choice" to either get locked up in the HoW or being send to the human lands with the expectation to die there, she actually chooses the human lands, saying death would be better than surrounded by obnoxious hypocritical narcisists.

Feyre and Cassian would right away try to backtrack and just want to forced her to the HoW, only for Rhysand to be, "done" and just winnow her to the border and leave.

Back at the NC Feyre and Cassian would be pissed but Rhys just tells them he'll have eyes (not Azriel(he doesn't and hopes she'll just die and plans to pretend the pragnancy made him forget, even while also lying to Feyre about that)) on Nesta, along with some more manipulation and gaslighting till they just give in.

Nesta meanwhile tries to avoid being seen, but soon get's discovered and has to run from a mob, only to get saved by Lucien and Jurian.

They take her back to their manor where she's just in time to see Vassa transform from bird to woman.

She explains what happened and the BoE is disgusted with Feysand and their groupies and offer Nesta to stay with them and she accepts.

Slowly she gets better as she's treated by respect by the BoE and becomes friends with every member in some way (meeting sassy Lucien, mocking spoiled human lordling sons and daughters they grew up surrounded by with Vassa and talking about SMUT books, training with Jurian on her OWN CHOICE after watching him a few times and being offered to join, and all of them just being sarcastic and teasing each other.

They'd also discuss and ask her opinion on political matters( since, like many say, she was right away more suited and courtier than warrior)

When The IC finds out, first Cassian tries to get her back, only to be denied by Nesta and when he doesn't listen to her, get's send away by BoE.

He keeps coming around but keeps getting send away and Azriel starts spying and constantly reports moments where Nesta's happy and Cassian feels jealous of Lucien and Jurian, Feyre of Vassa for being sister-like with Nesta, and Elain of Vassa and also Nesta for being close to her mate.

Maybe have Eris coming over more often too and flirt with Nesta who flirts back, making Cassian worse.

At some point, Cassian get's told by Lucien he's a worthless matee who doesn't care about Nesta and will always easily put the IC over her, and Nesta confirms that while she likes (or liked?) him, he's not what she needs until he actually changes

She also, since she doesn't need to rely on the NC for protection, tears into Feyre for her I-always-did-everything-while-my-sisters-did-nothing attitude, mentioning all kinds of things she did that Feyre ignored and how she's become a selfish obnoxious hypocrite that flaunts money and laughs at those less fortunate.

Also at Elain for always sitting on her ass and being useless and trying to act like the victim after always having Nesta take care of her and protect her, yet turning her back on her as soon as she needed Elain to take care of her for once. Maybe also tear into her for being a bitch to Lucien and saying he deserves better than her.

In the end ereryone does get better but I don't know how yet.

[miraculouslyfine]

stay with me.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: just a regular day with your boyfriend, who happens to fight crime sometimes //nothing but pure fluff lol, slightly dramatic reader

(word count: 2k)

“You ever think your dad might secretly hate me?”

“Oh, yeah. All the time”

“Y/n, I'm being serious”

She snorted. Oh, yeah. Tony Stark secretly hating Peter Parker. That was a good one. Tony, the same guy who was practically begging May to let him adopt her nephew before he found out Peter was dating his child (he quickly dropped the idea as if May was even considering it, saying he didn't want any weird Alabama stuff happening under his roof). The guy who praised Peter (to be fair never in front of him) so much to the point where both Y/n and Morgan were starting to feel like Peter was the favorite child amongst them. Yeah, he hated him alright.

“No, Peter, I don't think my dad hates you. Where is this even coming from?”

“It's just... okay, listen, I was thinking-”

“That's never a good sign”

"Shut up.”, he glared at her, unimpressed by her comment. “As I was saying, I was thinking, Tony's...well... Tony Stark, Iron Man, a literal genius and I am... well... me. I feel like he secretly wishes I'd choke on something and die so I'll leave you alone...What I'm trying to say is that I feel like he doesn't think I'm good enough for you”, he sighed feeling a bit nervous now.

“Are you kidding? If anything, he thinks I'm not good enough for you. Everyone and their mom know he likes you more than me”

“I don't know... He still has the whole Iron Man and world-famous billionaire thing. You've got two parents who are like...two of the most important and influential people in the world. And I'm the nerdy dude with the mask...who gets good grades. Not exactly what they'd pair you with on Tinder”

“If it's any consolation, I'd totally swipe right on you”, she said with a wink.

He rolled his eyes, trying to look like he wasn't enjoying every second of this. “You're so cheeky, you know that?”

“And you looooove it. Just like you looooove me”, her tone was light and playful as she dragged out the words. Her arms wrapped around his neck without much thought; it had become second nature for her to be touching him in some way.

Peter's own arms wrapped around her waist almost instinctively, bringing her body closer to his. He sighed, still trying and failing to act annoyed as a small smile made its way to his face. “Oh, yeah. I'm crazy about you”

She mockingly rolled her eyes at him just like he had done a second ago. “Is that little sarcastic tone supposed to throw me off? Prove you're not? You're not fooling anyone, Petey. We both know it's true, so you better drop the attitude mister”, she grinned and pressed a light kiss on his lips, quickly pulling back.

“Don't push it”, he said in a half-serious/half-joking tone. “You're getting a little too sassy” He cupped her face and stole a longer kiss, gently holding her in place.

“Peter and Y/n, sitting on a tree, k-i-s-s-hmfm"

Peter's all-time favorite activity is kissing his girlfriend. It's especially enjoyable when he does it when she's being annoying, to shut her up. And that's exactly what he did now. He kissed her again, this time with a little more intensity. She's so close and so beautiful and so annoying in the best way possible and she's his and how did he get lucky enough to wind up with her?

He pulled her even closer. His hand held her by the hip, the other gently cupping her face. He finally broke the kiss, his breathing a bit heavy. “You're driving me crazy”

“Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room- okay, fine I'll stop, I'll stop, jeez”, she muttered under her breath once she saw the look Peter was giving her. “I love you?”

“Is that a question?”, he asked slightly amused at her attempt to get in his good graces.

“No, I definitely love you. And I'm very much in love with you”

He rolled his eyes again but smiled nonetheless. “And I'm in love with you”, he said affectionately, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. He just wanted to stay there like that, with her, for the rest of the day but he knew he had a patrol to get to.

“Oh no”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically at her sudden comment. “’Oh no’ what? What happened?”

“You're doing the face”, she said with a small frown.

He feigned innocence, like he didn't know what she was talking about. He totally knew what she was talking about. “What face? I'm not doing anything”

“You're doing the ‘I-have-SpiderManing-to-do' face”, her frown further deepened.

“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that”, he sighed sheepishly, taking the tiniest step back. “I need to go out and, y’know, save people in peril and all that. Being a hero and all. You know I have to”, his tone was just as soft as his touch when he gently cupped her cheek with his hand.

She instinctively leaned into his touch, looking into his eyes all soft and lovingly, making Peter's heart melt. “Do you really have to, though? How about you save your own girlfriend instead?”, she said playfully with an exaggerated pouty expression.

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. A sly grin formed on his face. “Oh yeah?”, he asked, playing into this. “And how's my girlfriend in need of saving?”

She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm glad you asked, Spidey"

She -very dramatically, in Peter's opinion -flopped on the bed, basically throwing herself on it. "I'm about to experience 'broken heart syndrome'. My boyfriend is about to abandon me"

Peter can’t help but laugh at her theatrics. She sounded like someone auditioning for the role of 'most unfortunate soul' in a melodrama. “You’re so dramatic. I’m not abandoning you; I’m just going out on patrol. I’m doing my job.”

"Same difference", she huffed before jumping up, now speaking in an overly cheerful tone. "But fear not, kind Spider-Man! There is a way to prevent this!"

“Oh yeah?” Peter chuckled. He had no idea where this was going, but he’d be damned if he didn’t continue indulging her. He’s weak for this girl. “And what’s that?”

With an exaggerated sigh, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, tilting her head back as if the weight of her woes was simply too much to bear.

"You have to spend the rest of the day here, with me. The streets of New York mustn't see you at all.” In a graceful, almost theatrical collapse, she draped herself across the armrest of the fainting couch (Peter swore the only reason she even had this thing was for dramatic falls like this one); the picture of overly dramatic defeat.

“Or else we're doomed!"

Peter couldn't help but start laughing. “The streets of New York mustn't, huh?”, he joked. He pulled her closer, looking at her with a grin. “And what, pray tell, exactly would be the terrible, awful consequence if I were to leave?” he teased, playing into her overly theatrical bit for her.

“I'd burst into glitter and confetti and the Earth would explode, naturally”, she said in a serious tone with a nod.

Peter laughed again. “That’s an, eh… interesting consequence,” he joked, holding her even closer. “So let me get this straight: you go kaboom unless I stay here?”

"Kaboom into glitter, yes", she nodded.

“Oh no, we can’t have that happening, can we?” he said, still amused. He gently pushed a piece of hair away from her face. “Who’s gonna be my girlfriend if you burst into glitter?"

"No one because I'm gonna haunt all your hoes away. Just kidding, that kind of language is unacceptable, all girls are beautiful, no girl's a hoe. But no other girlfriends for you, just me"

“No other girlfriends. Only you,” he chuckled with a smile. The thought alone that there would be any other girlfriends wasn’t even in his mind. She was the only girl he wanted. He gently lifted her chin so she was looking at him. “What else can I do for my amazing, beautiful, slightly dramatic girlfriend?”

"Stay with meeeee, I don't want you to leeeeaaaveeee", she said dramatically in the tone of that one Cigarettes After Sex song.

No way she broke out in a song right now-Peter shook his head and smiled, laughing at her overdramatic tone. “Oh my god, you are so over the top,” he joked. He took a few seconds, then in mock dramatics, he relented. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay. I can’t have you bursting into glitter.”

But she was far too into her role now; she had already fallen on her knees in front of him. "No, Peter, you don't understand, you have to stay-"

Her tone was overly pleading -it really sounded like she was on the verge of crying-, as if she were begging him, before she registered what he said, a big smile appearing on her face.

"Wait you're staying?"

Peter was taken aback by her being on her knees, and he couldn't stop himself from laughing at her melodramatic performance. “Oh, you really are committed to the bit, huh?”

When she asked him if he was staying, he pretended to sigh, as if this was some great burden, and nodded. “Yes. I’m staying.”

"Wait, really?", she stood up abruptly. "What about the people of New York? People are kind of dumb, they'll definitely need help with something at some point- I mean, everything's under control, people are so responsible. No crime happening at all. Ever. Don't leave"

He rolled his eyes again but smiled. He liked knowing she wanted him around as much as he did. "They'll be okay... I think. I hope. I could use a break anyway."

She smiled back at him, her gaze softening. "You don't have to stay, y'know. I wouldn't want you to worry whether an alien invasion is happening or not"

He gave her a look. "Don't joke about that. It has happened before-"

She lifted her hands in mock surrender. "Right, right, sorry, I thought we were allowed to joke about it now since it's been a while. Guess not", she said with a playful eye roll before her tone turned more soft, almost shy "But you'll stay?"

Peter paused, the weight of the decision heavy on his shoulders. The responsibilities he'd carried for so long tugged at him, a persistent reminder of duty and expectation. But then his gaze settled on Y/n —eyes wide, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flickering in her expression.

"I’ll stay," he repeated softly, the words almost foreign on his lips.

Y/n blinked, as if she hadn’t truly expected the offer to be taken seriously. Her mouth opened, then closed, a hesitant smile trying to find its place.

"You don’t have to—"

"I know," Peter interrupted, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint smile. For once, the weight of obligation loosened its grip, and he allowed himself to simply be. "I want to"

Peter pulled her into a hug, holding her as close to him as possible.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the quiet rebellion of staying here a little longer. The embrace was firm yet relaxed, neither dramatic nor fleeting, just enough to feel the steady rhythm of each other's breathing.For a moment, time seemed to hold its breath, allowing them to settle perfectly into the comfort of each other's presence, unspoken gratitude passing between them like a gentle current.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"So, you usually don't want to, is what you're saying-"

"You're unbelievable"

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀SKATER.ᐟMATT × RICH.ᐟREADER

RICH.ᐟREADER ,, cheetah print. takes no shit. expensive taste. silver jewelry. fur, fur, fur. lip gloss. megan thee stallion coded. always got a sassy comment. knows all the drama. still sheltered despite everything. bad bitch.

SKATER.ᐟMATT ,, beanies. backwards caps. baggy everything. cuts and bruises from skating. never not wearing rings. scratches your initials on the back of one of his boards. dominic fike coded. snarky & sarcastic.

NOTES ,, thank u to bae @lovesickgrlsrh0t for planting these brainworms in my head i fear these two are my literal faves atm </3 also the triplets hit 7m n im so proud of them 😞💓 MDNI thank u

YOU'D KNOWN OF MATT BECAUSE OF A MUTUAL FRIEND. the friend was someone you'd gotten to know at a party, not exactly in your crowd, but the party was one with various people who dabbled in various things. you liked the friend, yeah, and they talked about a friend of theirs called matt, often. a skater, like.. one of those types to get caught trespassing on private property whilst hanging out, or something. not the type to attend nice galas and drink the finest wines in fancy ass outfits.

so you hadn't really cared about him, no. he was just a guy you knew of. and to matt, you were just some stuck-up socialite who he'd happened to go to school with since kindergarten. he didn't hate you, no, but like.. he wasn't exactly fond of you. he wasn't into the whole high life you associated yourself with. so it was obvious: the two of you were total opposites and wouldn't interact ever. especially since it was senior year, why would you in the first place?

turns out, it was actually quite simple. you'd been skipping class, as per usual, but had gotten caught this time. matt hadn't completed his coursework. now? detention, for the both of you. you'd most definitely considered skipping detention, since you had other engagements to attend, but you knew your parents wouldn't let you attend any other engagments for the rest of your senior year if you did. you're very clearly upset about detention, a pout adorning your glossy lips, your eyes fluttering around with not an ounce of enthusiasm.

it was just you and matt, you quickly realise. you stare at him for a minute, eyes narrowing. this catches his attention, and he cocks a brow as he glances up at you, "you get detention for havin' a starin' problem or what?" he's blunt, almost dead pan, rolling his eyes at the sight of you just.. staring at him. this makes your brow furrow, "that ain't no way to treat someone you've never talked to before, is it? jeez." you scoff under your breath, folding your arms over your chest. not wanting to act all petulant infront of the.. barely even a teacher, it's some substitute.

matt's quiet as he watches you sit down, the way you sit a far bit away as if being next to him will degrade the expensive material of your outfit. a scoff escapes him, in a similar fashion to your own, and he shakes his head, glancing away. you have this tendency to.. well, not shut up, so you start whining under your breath about how you were supposed to be at some gala, mingling with other stuffy, rich people but you were here. with him.

matt's just watching you, completely baffled and amused by you. it was absolutely so shallow of you and pretty vapid, ut he found himself a little intrigued. his eyes liked what he was seeing, you're pretty, super pretty. you dress like you know it too. "uh," he starts, "you didn't ask for my two cents on the whole.. gala thing, and i know i ain't the type to even be goin' anywhere near those things, but—could always pay someone to go for you. you got the money, don't you?" that causes a silence to settle over you, and you're quiet for a minute.

but then you burst out laughing, a sound that matt knows he wants to hear more of. he tries to hide a small smile, but then you're switching up on him the instant you realise you're laughing at something he'd said. "i got the money, but i ain't payin' someone to enjoy the time i was going to. defeats the whole purpose, dumbass." the smile switching to a glare damn near gave him whiplash. his brow furrows once more, and he raises his hands in surrender.

"shit, okay, okay, keep whinin' then," god, he didn't understand you, not at all. you were something, alright. "..'n' who're you callin' a dumbass?" he mumbles under his breath, sighing as he glanced back at the ceiling once more. giving you a quick glare, in return, that ends your conversation quite abruptly. but both of you are intrigued by eachother, clearly.

"you look so out of place here, kid," matt can't help but laugh at you. the said mutual friend from before had invited you to some party at some random guy's house. a birthday party, or some shit. a total lapse of judgement on your part, you knew, and you'd literally snuck out of your parent's place to be there. why the fuck did you do that for? you looked so out of place, he was right. you're stood there like even touching a single thing'll kill you on the spot.

you glare at him instantly, folding your arms under your chest which instantly draws his attention down to your cleavage. you notice, of course, hating the way a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach from how he looks at you. "don't remember ever askin' for your input," your head tilts, "just 'cause you got a pretty face don't mean you needa' go 'round stickin' your head where it don't belong."

"you think i got a pretty face? how sweet," he sticks his tongue out, a soft smirk gracing his lips. he looks good. dark tufts of hair stick out from beneath his beanie, the colourful lights set up causing a nice sheen to glow down onto his face. you're not crushing on him though—no, no. he's just some skater. he could never give you what you want. "c'mon, relax a little," he says his words soon after his first few just so you don't get a chance to snap at his cocky remark, catching you off guard.

"i don't know anyone here," you mutter under your breath, fiddling with your expensive necklace, once again drawing his attention downwards. he's pretty sure you're doing it on purpose now, honestly, since you keep doing it. those nails.. he's imagining them wrapped around other things, that's for sure. "you know me," his voice is a little gentler, and he nods over to the kitchen where beer pong is set up, "it'll be fun. loosen' you up a lil' bit." you're skeptical for a moment, but you nod, making your way over with him.

he has to say, he's into how quiet you get when you're somewhere out of your comfort zone. you're not as mouthy, or annoying. as much as he loves your banter, the flirty insults between you two, well.. he likes you like this. "you've never played beer pong?" matt's literally gasping, staring at you like you're insane.

your face scrunches up at that, "well, yeah. no one's playin' beer pong at a party where they serve scotch—" you shake your head, sighing. he wanted you to loosen up? you'd loosen up. he gives you a look as if to say chill out, before he laughs quietly when you do, in fact, chill out. "i'll teach you. s'easy." his voice is easy, low. and you notice how close he's stood next to you. "you're a quick learner, m'guessin'."

"sure," you roll your shoulders in a shrug, glancing at the beer pong being set up for another round before you look back at matt. "yeah," you affirm after a minute. matt glances at you with a soft, incredulous look before he shakes his head. "c'mon, i don't bite. neither does the beer. at least, it shouldn't." you're calming down with him already, he likes that a lot too.

you'd had another total lapse of judgement, surprise surprise, having been swayed by the inarguably nice night with matt and his stupid, pretty face into becoming fuck buddies. perhaps not your finest moment, but definitely your most pleasurable. he makes you feel good, so, so good. takes away your stress from all your parents expectations, makes you feel taken care of. you two aren't exactly friends with benefits, more like.. people who know eachother, like acquaintances with benefits. but fuck buddies suits you two better.

it'd started off as getting together once, meeting at another party and giving into the raw attraction between you two. he'd had you beneath him, your legs wrapped tight around his hips as he bucked up into you with a brutal pace. his hands grasped at the bed around your head, a bed in which he had no idea whose it was. hey, he needed you, real bad. the logistics of everything hadn't crossed his mind once. "need you," you'd whined, voice breaking a little with how loudly you'd been crying out his name.

"you're gettin' me, baby," he grunted, grasping at the bed a little tighter as you clenched around him, practically trapping him there. his eyes lift up to yours, a flush covering his face at how damn good you feel. "what d'you want?" he growled, all breathless and heavy, like even speaking took a lot out of him. "need you, ah—after this, too," you couldn't have him just once, that wouldn't be fair. he felt too fucking perfect to only have once.

matt laughs quietly, realising you're on the verge of just babbling from how deep he's fucking you. "shh, sh, i got you," he murmured, lowering his head down to yours to press his lips down against yours to ensure you wouldn't keep talking. between kisses, he whispers, "gonna have me whenever you want, baby. whenever you want." that had you practically squirting, thighs trembling as the movements of his hips stuttered.

he kept up his promise, and whenever you wanted him, you got him. matt didn't want to seem desperate, but he was starting to like you, a lot. those snarky comments and bitchy glares started turning into fond looks and quiet compliments. he wasn't soft on you, he really didn't want to be—but there he was, letting you practically walk all over him in those expensive heels. it wasn't until a certain moment where you realised you felt the same as he did. he fell first, but god damn it, did you fall harder.

matt's buried so deep inside you, all you can think about, all you want to think about is him. he's overwhelming in the best way, having told you to keep your eyes on his or else he wouldn't give you what you wanted. "eyes on me, baby, wanna see those pretty eyes," he murmured, your legs hiked up onto his shoulders as opposed to his hips this time. you two had been in many different positions with eachother, sure, but this? how close he is? how he's balls deep inside your cunt? can't think straight.

you lift your eyes to his, swallowing thickly as another whine rips from your throat. he coos softly, "there you are. there's my girl," his girl? you're his girl? he's being so soft, and loving, nothing like he's been before or you've ever had before. it's making you feel some kind of way and it feels wrong, but so right at the same time. "makin' such pretty sounds, lookin' so lovely like this.. you take my dick so well."

"matt—" you gasp softly, trying to bring yourself as close as possible with a swivel of your hips forward. matt groans, his head falling down into the crook of your neck as he slides his hands down to grasp at your thighs. just the feel of the callouses on his hands from various skating accidents has you squealing and whining beneath him. "so good, shit, oh, oh—right there, riiight there.."

"right there? right there?" matt drives himself deeper within you, whining into your skin. his nose brushes against your soft skin, grunting under his breath with each thrust forward of his hips. "i've got you, c'mon, cum 'round my cock for me, let it go, there she is, that's it.." he's thrusting up into you through your orgasm, holding you as close as possible, and even with the pleasure clouding your brain, you're realising that you're most definitely in love.

maybe it's the slow drag of his cock against your walls, as he takes a slower, steadier approach to pounding you into the bed—maybe it's his sweet words, you don't know, but all of it coming together? you're in love.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES (14/20)

Well, this chapter is short but it's definitely something...

Enjoy it <3

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio x Fem Reader

Summary: Staying away from your mommies makes you discover new things.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

Source

The aroma of fresh coffee and a faint sweet note lingered in the air, slowly pulling you out of sleep.

Still nestled in the soft sheets of the king-size bed, you stretched lazily, feeling your muscles protest against the abrupt movement.

The lingering warmth of the previous night still clung to your skin—remembering Agatha’s vulnerability, the way she let you hold her, let you see her. The heated kisses with a salty taste of tears. The glorious orgasms you had given her.

All of it was enough to make you stay in bed—in your little love nest—but the promise of caffeine was enough to gather your strength and abandon the sheets.

The mansion was quiet, except for a voice in the background—one that certainly wasn’t Agatha’s. Curious, you followed the hallway to the kitchen, where you found your Mommy sitting at the table, wrapped in a dark silk robe, her brown hair loose and unruly.

There was a duality in Agatha that you found intriguing. The subversive and intimidating appearance combined with her sarcastic and highly stern, controlling demeanor made her so… Agatha.

A full-fledged character, you thought.

In front of her, the phone screen glowed, revealing the image of Rio, who was speaking animatedly, gesturing with exaggerated movements.

“... and then, a journalist had the audacity to tell me that my series of paintings on the void of human existence was ‘too nihilistic.’ As if that were an insult,” Rio commented, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Agatha took a sip of coffee, exhaling a bored sigh. “Well, you could have thrown paint at him and claimed it was a social art experiment. I would’ve supported it.”

She hadn’t yet noticed your presence, and you pondered whether to serve yourself a cup or simply steal a sip from Agatha’s coffee. But before you could decide, Rio spotted you behind the screen and broke into a wide smile.

“Well, look who’s here... Sweetie, Mama misses you so much!!” the artist exclaimed, her accent thick and melodic.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Agatha sighed heavily, as if merely existing in the morning was already a cruel punishment.

“In the morning, Vidal? Seriously?”

Rio ignored the grumpiness with the ease of someone who was already used to it and waved insistently. “Yes. Now come here, dear, let Mama get a better look at you!”

Still drowsy, you ran a hand through your disheveled hair, trying to give it some semblance of acceptable shape, and approached, peeking over Agatha’s shoulder.

“Hi, Mama,” you murmured, your voice husky from sleep.

“You look... well-rested,” Rio commented, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Agatha narrowed her eyes at the screen, suspicious. “Was that a euphemism?”

Rio laughed, shrugging. “If it was, I won’t admit it.”

As Agatha muttered something inaudible, you took advantage of the distraction to steal a toast from her plate.

Without even looking, Agatha stretched her hand in the air, as if predicting the move. “Drop it.”

“Too late,” you replied, chewing slowly just to provoke her.

Agatha huffed, but a nearly imperceptible smile threatened to appear at the corner of her lips.

Rio watched the scene with evident delight.

“You two are becoming one person,” she teased. “My God, my poor girl is already picking up your manners, Agatha.”

Agatha let out a dramatic sigh before taking another sip of coffee. “Wrong. She’s picking up yours, Vidal.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Stealing food from other people’s plates? Sassy remarks before breakfast? And that... disheveled hair that looks like conceptual art? You’re becoming a little Rio.”

Rio gasped theatrically. “Wrong. The disheveled hair is yours, M’lady.” She pointed to the woman beside her, whose frizzy, untamed hair bore witness to the truth of the accusation.

“Fuck you, Vidal.” Agatha flipped off her wife, who merely laughed.

Sexy and grumpy, you thought.

Rio placed a hand on her chest, feigning emotion. “Oh, Agatha, what a beautiful thing to say in the morning! I knew that deep down, you loved me.”

“If by ‘love’ you mean ‘tolerate until it explodes and makes me want to set the White House on fire,’ then yes,” Agatha retorted, unimpressed.

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could argue, you realized you were holding her coffee mug—or rather, your coffee mug now—exactly the way Rio held her paintbrushes, with an air of nonchalance, as if the object had always belonged to you.

And then it hit you.

“Oh my God,” you murmured, horrified. “I’m becoming Mama.”

Rio burst into laughter. “You finally realized! Come, darling! Leave your grumpy Mommy there in Los Angeles! Let’s open a studio in Paris! You can be my assistant and steal other people’s coffee as much as you want. No limits for my little princess.”

“She already does that,” Agatha intervened, taking the mug from your hands with a stern look. “Except, instead of art, she only produces chaos.”

You gave a satisfied smirk. “Chaos is a form of art too.”

Rio snapped her fingers, proud. “My brilliant student!”

Agatha ran a hand down her face, sighing. “God. Give me patience.”

But even while grumbling, she put together a sandwich and placed it on your plate without even looking.

You smiled.

The day would be long, but you were starting to feel your energy bloom. Everything was really easier with them.

A few minutes later, after Agatha forced you to wear a purple sweater—because she loved seeing you in purple and was sure it would rain—you were inside the Audi, heading off.

The car’s engine hummed softly, filling the comfortable silence between you. The radio played a discreet instrumental melody, while Agatha kept her eyes on the road, one firm hand on the wheel and the other holding a thermal coffee cup.

You looked at your phone screen, rereading the scene you had written for Wanda.

“So,” you began, shifting in your seat. “I’m rereading Wanda’s scene and... I think I managed to capture the way she embraces magic after the twins’ death. It’s a chaotic acceptance, but also an inevitable one. Do you think it works?”

Agatha looked at you for a moment before turning back to the road, seeming in no rush to answer.

“It works,” she finally said, without taking her eyes off the street. “Because it’s true. Her magic was never a curse, but a calling. Grief only opened the doors she kept trying to shut.”

You smiled, satisfied. “I like that. How she realizes she was never a monster. She was just trying to be something she never was—human, ordinary.”

“Exactly,” Agatha nodded, her lips curling into an almost imperceptible, chaste smile. “Pain can be a catalyst or an anchor. She always had too much power to be anchored by anything other than herself.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over the words. You liked discussing your scenes with Agatha. Even when she was critical, she always saw things you didn’t.

Locking your phone screen, you stared out the window. You could already feel your heart ache and your body weaken. It was strange how painful it was to be away from them. Your dependence was killing you.

After a few minutes, you cleared your throat. “Hm... Mommy?”

She arched an eyebrow, not taking her eyes off the road.

“Can I go out with Alice after class today?”

The car turned a corner. Three blocks. The damned three blocks before the university.

Whenever the engine stopped there, the reminder that you would never be anything more than a secret to them kept looping in your mind. You couldn't help but be bothered by it, and now more than ever, you wanted to get away from that place and everything it represented.

You noticed the way Agatha's jaw tightened. She didn’t respond immediately. She just pulled the handbrake, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel in a calculated rhythm.

Silence dragged on. You waited.

She took a deep breath, as if evaluating all possibilities, considering every little detail before making a decision.

"Fine," she finally said. "But be home by 9 PM. We’ll call your Mama."

Your eyes widened, and you smiled. "Really? We can call Mama?"

This time, Agatha shot you a sideways glance, her expression unreadable.

"Yes. She was a nervous wreck over the exhibition," you grinned, imagining Rio terrorizing the staff in her broken French, "... and I know you miss her," she murmured, turning her attention back to the road.

Your chest warmed. Rio was in Paris, busy, but you missed her—missed the way she spoke, her little jokes, and the way she could make you stop overthinking.

You couldn’t hold back your smile. The excitement was so overwhelming that, before you even thought about it, you leaned in and cupped Agatha’s face in your hands, pulling her into a firm kiss.

She froze the moment your lips touched hers, a reaction almost comical considering how relentless Agatha was in practically every situation.

But at that moment?

You completely unraveled her.

Her lips were warm, still carrying the bitter taste of coffee, and her initial shock quickly melted into an involuntary surrender.

You felt the exact moment her body’s rigidity gave way—a breath against your mouth, a hesitant movement of her hands, as if she were fighting the urge to grab your waist and pull you back in.

But you were faster. You pulled away before she could fully recover, before she could turn the tables and remind you who was really in control here.

Agatha blinked, her eyes slightly widened, as if she needed a second to process what had just happened. You took advantage of that rare moment of vulnerability and flashed a mischievous smile.

"See you later, Mommy." Your voice was slow, almost teasing, and you slipped out of the car before she could say anything.

But as you shut the door, you managed to catch the muffled sound of a frustrated sigh and the impatient tapping of nails against the steering wheel.

Satisfied, you walked toward the entrance of the university, feeling her gaze burning into your back.

The campus was bustling with students moving in all directions—laughing, talking, complaining about classes. You scanned the groups and smiled when you spotted Alice’s.

She was sitting on the edge of one of the stone benches, laughing at something a friend had said. The morning sun hit her dark hair, creating a golden halo around her head.

"Alice!" you called out with a wide grin.

She looked up at the sound of her name, and a genuine smile spread across her lips. "Hey, look who decided to show up!"

As you reached her side, you noticed three other people there—two girls and a guy, all watching you with a certain interest. There was something peculiar about their presence, something hard to define.

"Oh, let me introduce you," Alice said, sliding off the bench with the effortless grace of someone who always fit in wherever they went. "This here is Billy, that's Jennifer, and this is Yelena."

Billy was tall and lanky, with intense eyes and an easy smile, his hair messy as if he didn’t care much about it. Jennifer had an intimidating beauty, sharp eyes, and a calculated posture, while Yelena… well, she just tilted her head, observing you with a look that made something twist inside you.

"Nice to meet you all," you said, shaking each of their hands. Their grips were firm, but Billy let his fingers slide against your palm, sending a shiver up your spine.

Weird.

"So, are you feeling better today?" Alice asked, leaning casually against the bench.

"Oh. Yeah. Much better." You adjusted your backpack strap, looking at your shoes, trying to sound nonchalant. "... You know... Just wanted to let you know I’m free after class."

Billy grinned, his eyes lighting up with something you couldn’t quite read. "That’s amazing. We were just deciding whether to hang out at my place. I guess you made the decision for us, darling." He winked at you, making your cheeks flush.

Jennifer shot him a sidelong glance, a small smirk curving her lips.

"Definitely," Yelena murmured, crossing her arms.

You blinked, feeling something odd in the way they looked at you—like they were waiting for something. But Alice laughed, slipping an arm around your waist for a brief second, and any unease disappeared.

"It’ll be fun," she assured you, and you didn’t doubt that.

When the bell rang, you said goodbye and hurried off.

What the hell was that?

They had a different aura—heavy, suffocating. And you felt like you were committing some kind of sin just by talking to them.

Why?

The classroom seemed to spin around an invisible axis as you tried to ignore the nagging feeling in your chest. The sound of pens scratching against paper, the hushed whispers of students, the ticking clock—all of it felt distant, like it was happening in another reality.

You should have been focused on your test, but your mind refused to cooperate. The sharp pencil twirled between your fingers, pressing against the paper without actually writing anything.

What was this?

This unsettling, suffocating feeling of absence, of something missing?

You tried to find a rational explanation.

Maybe it was Wanda, with her green eyes that always seemed to see beyond, searching for something inside you that even you didn’t understand.

Or maybe it was Alice and her new friends, watching you with that strange, overly curious look.

They all left a burning sensation in your chest, like acid reflux.

But you knew these thoughts were shallow, that they didn’t dig deep enough to explain the tightness in your chest.

Because the truth was, this feeling came from them.

From the silent house without the sound of clinking teacups, without Agatha’s low murmurs in the morning as she cut your fruit into cute shapes.

Without Rio’s playful taps on your butt, her voice calling you "darling" as she whispered lullabies in a language you didn’t know.

You missed them with hunger, like a weight in your stomach that wouldn’t go away.

And it didn’t even make sense. You’d see them in just a few hours, you’d go back home, and everything would be there.

But the cold in your bones didn’t believe that.

It was irrational, but your body refused to accept logic. The hand holding your pencil was trembling. Your chest rose and fell in an erratic rhythm.

This wasn’t normal.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself. Maybe it was just exhaustion. Or maybe… maybe it was something deeper, something you didn’t understand.

The nausea hit like a violent wave, without warning. Your stomach churned, and before you could think, you pushed your chair back, nearly tripping as you rushed out of the classroom. A few students glanced up at your sudden movement, but you didn’t care.

Your steps were quick and clumsy down the empty hallway, the sound of your own feet echoing on the cold tiles.

The air seemed stuck in your throat, the tightness in your chest suffocating, as if something inside you was shattering.

The bathroom was empty when you entered abruptly, causing an echo. You rushed into the nearest stall, collapsing to your knees in front of the toilet, your fingers digging into the cold porcelain as whatever this thing inside you was refused to stay contained.

Your whole body trembled.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. A raw, painful retch made your back arch, and then—you vomited.

Your mind was.

The lack of them tore you apart.

This wasn’t normal.

It couldn’t be normal.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the bitter taste in your mouth, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. It made no sense—this desperate need, this pain that shouldn’t be there.

You would be home in a few hours. You would see Agatha. You would hear Rio’s voice. But your body didn’t believe that. Your body reacted as if you were being ripped away from them.

And why?

Why?

You got up on unsteady legs, walking to the sink to rinse your mouth. The reflection in the mirror showed your wide eyes, pale skin, a cold sweat on your forehead. You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself, trying to pretend you were fine.

But then—

A voice.

A voice that made you freeze in place.

"This can’t go on like this!"

Your heart almost stopped.

You knew that voice.

Agatha.

Your chest rose and fell erratically as your eyes darted to the door. Agatha was there. In the hallway.

With Professor Calderu?

Every part of your instincts screamed. This wasn’t normal. You had never seen Agatha here, except for the time of the lecture. Not this close to Lilia. This didn’t make sense.

But you were already standing, already taking a hesitant step out of the bathroom, your heart pounding in your throat.

They were there, standing in a more secluded corner of the hallway. Agatha had her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face, while Calderu spoke in a low voice.

You knew you shouldn’t listen.

You knew you should just move on, pretend you saw nothing.

But your instincts gave you no choice.

Your feet moved on their own.

You followed them.

Your heart was beating so hard you could almost hear it in the silence of that place.

They walked toward a corner beyond the campus, entering a hidden room that looked like something out of a medieval castle—damp stone walls, dim yellowish lighting casting distorted shadows.

You held your breath and crouched down, crawling to a small opening near the floor. Your eyes found the feet of the two women inside.

And there they were.

Agatha’s Versace heels, elegant and dangerous, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

She was furious.

"This needs to stop." Agatha’s voice cut through the air like a whip, low but laden with threat. "She’s after her like a damn wolf. Watching. Analyzing." The pause was laced with venom. "Wanting."

A shiver ran down your spine.

Were they talking about you?

Your body tensed, your knees pressing into the cold stone floor. You didn’t know what was worse: the way Agatha spoke or the fact that Calderu didn’t seem surprised.

"Lilia, I’m warning you. If this continues, I will—"

"Agatha."

Calderu’s voice was a murmur, but there was a sharp firmness in it.

"You need to calm down."

Agatha laughed. Not a real laugh, but something cold and cynical. "Calm down?" The red-soled heels stopped abruptly. "You know what will happen if she finds out. If Wanda touches her. If she decides she wants—"

"If you keep this up, you’re the one who’s going to ruin everything."

Silence.

You bit your lip, feeling your breath quicken.

What the fuck is this?

Then, Agatha exploded.

"She’s mine!"

The sound of an impact made you flinch. Something had been hit—a table, maybe. Your heart leapt so violently that your stomach twisted.

Calderu sighed. "Agatha…"

"If Wanda wants a source," Agatha spat the word like an insult, "she better find another one. I’ve been patient enough!"

Source?

What?

Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of the conversation.

Wanda. Agatha. Rio. Calderu.

You.

What was happening?

You swallowed hard, breathing carefully to avoid making a sound.

You wanted to run. Or go in there, straight to them, and scream for answers. You wanted to disappear, to go back to your old home and not see the sun for a long time.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, your phone vibrated with an iMessage notification, nearly making you jump.

Alice: We’re in the parking lot. Billy’s car is the red one.

Shit.

Right.

You needed to get out of here. You needed to leave.

Your hands trembled as you closed your phone, the glow of the screen feeling too bright for your eyes.

You needed to leave.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, adrenaline burning through your veins as you turned around and ran down the stone hallway. The walls felt narrower, the air denser.

You needed to leave. Now.

Hurried footsteps echoed, your eyes scanning the surroundings, making sure no one saw you. Thick raindrops stained your sweater. And suddenly, you felt the urge to laugh like a lunatic.

It was raining.

And Agatha was never wrong.

The woman was like a damn witch who could predict the future.

You pushed open the exit door and were met with the cold air of the parking lot.

The red car.

There it was, parked under the white glow of the streetlights. Alice was leaning against the door, scrolling through her phone, while Billy and Yelena stood nearby, cigarettes between their lips, their noses inhaling the nicotine. Jennifer sat in the passenger seat, looking at something in the rearview mirror.

Alice looked up and smiled.

But you couldn’t smile back.

Your steps were heavy as you approached. The lump in your throat felt impossible to swallow. Your vision was slightly blurred.

"What happened?" Alice asked as soon as you got close.

"Nothing," your voice came out weaker than it should have.

Billy opened the back door, stomping out his cigarette. "Get in already, it’s fucking freezing out here."

You got in.

The seat was soft. The smell of leather mixed with nicotine filled your lungs. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

But it didn’t help.

Your stomach twisted in involuntary spasms, as if something inside you was writhing the wrong way.

A sickness took over you, burning your skin, trembling and strange. You clenched your hands in your lap, trying to focus on anything other than your body.

Agatha’s Versace heels.

The sharp edge of her voice.

"She’s mine!"

Your insides knotted, nausea surging with force.

No.

No.

No.

You rolled down the window, desperate for air. But the world spun. The cold metal under your fingers wasn’t enough to anchor you. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know why your body was reacting like this—

"Hey," Alice called. "Are you okay?"

You didn’t know how to answer. And before you could say anything, the car engine started, wasting no time in pulling away.

Billy’s house was unlike any you had ever entered.

The lighting was dim, coming from yellow-tinted lamps that resembled candles scattered in different corners. Shadows danced across the walls, giving the room an unsettling air.

The furniture was heavy, made of dark wood, arranged in a way that suggested Billy lived alone. No overly personal touches. No family photos.

But what really caught your attention were the images.

Paintings and ancient tapestries covered the walls, all depicting female figures with intense gazes and dark garments. Some held the severed heads of men; others danced in circles, engulfed in flames.

You swallowed hard.

"Shall we begin?" Billy asked, tossing a strange deck of cards onto the table.

The "party" was an afternoon of games.

But the games were anything but conventional.

Alice laughed beside you, shuffling the cards with unnerving agility, as if she had done it all her life. Jennifer lit another candle. Yelena unfolded a carved wooden board.

You sat, watching.

Billy smiled sharply, his fingers gliding over the cards as if they were an extension of himself.

"Let's play Three Truths."

Alice laughed next to you, tapping the table excitedly. "You're gonna love it!"

You weren’t so sure.

Jennifer lit a candle, and the flame flickered, casting eerie shadows across the room. Yelena opened the wooden board, her cold, curious eyes locked onto your reaction.

You shifted uncomfortably on the rug. "What kind of game is this?"

Billy stacked the deck in the center of the table and began to explain:

"Each player gets three cards, face down." He flipped the top card, and a strange symbol shimmered for a second before vanishing.

"One card reveals who you are." He turned another, this time showing an illustration of a woman holding a cracked mirror.

"Another reveals what you desire." The third card displayed a disturbing image of a pair of green eyes, surrounded by a veil of shadows.

Your stomach twisted.

Billy’s smile widened. "And the last one reveals what is hidden inside you."

Your heart pounded in your chest.

"Is this serious?" Your voice came out tenser than you'd intended.

Alice leaned closer, her eyes glinting with something indefinable. "The thing is... the cards tell the truth. Always."

Jennifer chuckled softly. "But they only reveal what’s already inside you, you know?"

Yelena rested her elbows on the table, fingers interlaced in front of her face, never breaking eye contact. "Think you can handle it?"

The words sounded like a challenge.

Your gaze flicked to the deck on the table. Something about it made your skin crawl.

"But it’s just a game, right?"

Billy spun a card between his fingers, his smile enigmatic.

"Depends on what you believe."

Yelena picked up her three cards without hesitation, her fingers gliding over the thick paper edges. Billy smirked, amused, while Alice drummed her fingers on the table.

"Come on, Belova," Jennifer teased, resting her chin in her hands. "Show us what you're made of."

Yelena rolled her eyes but flipped the first card.

The Lady of the Blade.

Billy let out a low whistle. "Well, look at that. Always ready for the attack."

Alice laughed, leaning toward you. "It’s the card of someone who lives to defend themselves."

Yelena raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "Shocking absolutely no one."

You watched in silence, your heart still racing from the rules explanation. So this was how it worked?

She flipped the second card.

The Caged Heart.

This time, Jennifer laughed. "Oof. Emotional blockages?"

Yelena crossed her arms, feigning indifference. "I’m just very selective."

Billy tapped the card with his finger. "Or maybe you're holding onto something even you don’t want to see."

You swallowed hard.

The last card turned.

The Call of the Void.

This time, no one laughed immediately. The illustration on the card depicted a faceless shadow, arms outstretched, beckoning someone into the darkness.

Alice leaned in slightly, her smile fading.

"Interesting."

Jennifer cleared her throat, trying to lighten the mood. "So… you want something you can't have but are afraid to admit it?"

Yelena clicked her tongue, gathering the cards back. "Maybe this fucking game is a massive waste of time."

Billy just smiled. "Or maybe the cards don’t lie."

Silence weighed for a moment.

You swallowed hard, feeling a chill creep up your spine.

Alice shuffled the cards again, her eyes gleaming as she pushed the deck toward you.

"Your turn."

You hesitated. The room hadn’t felt this warm before.

Billy smiled almost gently, but there was something curious in his gaze. "No need to be afraid. The game only shows what’s already inside you."

"Great," you muttered sarcastically. "That makes everything so much better."

Alice laughed, nudging your arm. "Come on, just pick them."

Slowly, you reached out, taking three cards and placing them face down on the table. Your chest tightened. It was just a game. Right?

"Go on, flip them," Jennifer encouraged.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the first one.

The Lost Path.

Alice frowned. Billy let out a low whistle.

"Interesting," he murmured.

"Why?" you asked, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Yelena clicked her tongue. "Because it means you don’t know where you’re going. But someone does."

A shiver ran up your spine.

You flipped the second card.

The Invisible Chains.

Their reaction was even quieter this time.

Jennifer cleared her throat. "Well… that’s pretty straightforward."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

Alice bit her lip, leaning over the table. "It means you're bound to something… or someone."

Your mouth went dry.

They waited.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you turned the last card.

The Hidden Source.

Silence fell.

The crackling of the candles suddenly seemed deafening.

Alice's eyes widened. Billy frowned, looking… impressed? Jennifer held her breath.

Yelena straightened in her chair.

A chill ran through you, your gaze locked on the card’s illustration. A spring of black water gushed from a crack in the ground, shadows spiraling around it, as if ready to consume anyone who got too close.

Billy licked his lips, resting his elbows on the table.

"Well," he said finally. "Looks like we found what we were looking for."

~*~

Okay, okay... Maybe there magic in this universe hahaha. Deal with it.

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good @imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp @lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01 @aboutcustardcreams @upsidedowndanvers @starbucks-06 @absolute-memegarbage @trinity2k @greyella @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @whitelotus00 @dandelions4us @creaturesaphique @warpdrive-witch @sweetmidnights

[ravisconverse]

While I can appreciate both the mphfpc film and the books in their own separate sense, I just can’t help but criticise the film for some of the changes they made.

The aging down of Bronwyn and the aging up of Olive got rid of Bronwyn’s protective trait of the two younger girls.

The peculiarity switch between Emma and Olive was also so pointless. I mean I guess that it kind of makes sense with Emma being like the main “love interest” and her being the zephyr kind of fits more with Burton’s aesthetic, but it’s still very annoying, we deserved firey Emma.

The loop day. What was the purpose of changing the year to 1943 instead of 1940? It makes no sense, just keep it at 1940.

The postcard from Alma. In the books it was 15 years ago, which allowed for more doubt as to whether she would be alive or not. Reducing it to 2 years takes that away.

Every time I rewatch the film and I see the Olive/Enoch relationship I feel sick to my stomach. Enough said

Fiona’s entire character was ripped away and rewritten. Yes her backstory may have been considered too dark for the film, but come on you didn’t have to age her down, reduce her peculiarity and take away her selective mutism.

The aging down of Hugh, Millard and Horace really annoy me. Why are they children? I wanted sassy 17 year old Millard who is angsty and studious and sarcastic, Hugh who both loves and hates being peculiar and is devoted to Fiona, Horace being SCARED of his peculiarity.

I also feel robbed that we didn’t get Emma and Millard kidnapping and interrogating Jake when they first meet him. Or the whole thing with Martin and them having to fight the hollowgast. “Will you quit shouting and let me bleed in peace” you will always be famous.

Even though Alma Peregrine wasn’t accurate in the film, I am in love with how Eva Green portrays her, and how clearly her study of peregrine falcons comes into her acting.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Leon Kennedy General Dating Headcanons

🌙 His sarcastic quips do not stop at all when you two start dating. He has dad jokes at the ready no matter the occassion. It really gets him when he sees you try to beat back a smile.

🌙 He's a very good cook which shocked you when he invited you to his house for dinner. He didn't seem the type at the time, but he put out a beautiful and delicious meal. The only thing he can't do is bake for the life of him. Even the ready made cookie dough that just needs to be baked burns with him. It's an enigma.

🌙 He's a complete mix of the golden retirever and black cat tropes. He's all sweet and loving while being so sassy sarcastic. He balances both so well in your relationship.

🌙 He really makes an effort to be close with your family if you're still with them. He didn't have one for long growing up from his traumatic past, but it's really important that your own family accepts him. If you don't talk to your family much anymore, he's not going to stress or ask questions.

🌙 On the topic of his traumatic past, he often has horrible nightmares that wakes him up in a cold sweat. Raccoon City, Spain, it all still weighs on his shoulders despite putting on a brave face for you.

🌙 He often has a reoccuring nightmare that you somehow get infected with whatever sick virus and turn into a zombie. Those really stick with him throughout the day and really gets him to think: Could he actually pull the trigger?

🌙 He doesn't do it often anymore, but every once in a while he will drink too much just to forget about it all for awhile. He's since heavily slowed down since dating you. He doesn't like the thought of you worrying about him or even being disgusted by him when he's drunk and depressed, but there are days where it's all just too much.

🌙 He constantly keeps you updated when he's out on duty. He hates keeping you in the dark, especially when he's away for long periods of time. If he can't message you, he has Hunnigan do it for him. It's very rare to not get at least one message a day from him just to let you know that he's alive.

🌙 He likes it when you react well to him being all dressed up. Tug on his tie, snap his suspenders, let your hands linger on his blazer a little too long. He loves the tease, it riles him up and really makes the time fly, especially when he's in a meeting with government officials.

🌙 He loves having his hair toyed with. Whether you're gently scraping your nails against his scalp, brushing his bangs out of his face to look into those pretty eyes, wrapping his dirty blonde locks around your fingers. He loves it all.

🌙 Whenever he gets home, he always does the same thing. He opens and shuts the door behind him, drops his bags to the floor and opens him arms as you run right into them. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, you both just stay there for a few minutes, but it really just feels like forever to him.

🌙 He loves going on car rides with you, especially ones that can last for hours. He'll never get tired of them. He's really loves it when he holds your hand as he's driving, occassionally bring it up to kiss at it while keeping his eyes on the road.

🌙 Acts like he's not a fan of the cop puns and jokes, but he really is. Despite being a police officer for only one day- and that day involved a bunch of zombies and an apocolyptic city- he was still a cop officially for one day. Something about the way you call him "Officer Kennedy" just gets him going.

🌙 He listens to divorced dad rock. Sorry, but I don't make the rules. At first it started out as a joke but it really just became something he comfortably listens to.

🌙 He can never bring work home with him, especially reports that need to be filled out and brought back asap. He just gets too distracted by you. Even if he holes himself up in his office, just the sight of you innocently passing by his door with a load of laundry at your hip makes him suddenly want to help with the laundry.

🌙 He introduces you to Claire and she is honestly dumbfounded that Leon managed to catch and keep someone with as stupid of a personality he has. She is so excited to meet you though. She then proceeds to tell you about some embarassing moments about Leon when she met him Raccoon City.

🌙 Ada doesn't really show her face when you're around, but you do know of her. Leon was completely open and honest about her and answered all of your questions truthfully.

🌙 He has a shameless love for Agatha Christie and Michael Connelly. Say what you want, Leon loves them and often can be found reading them in the night while he tries to drift off.

🌙 He's not a fan of cop shows, though. He turns his nose at the thought. But medical dramas? Leon will eat that shit up- House is his favorite. He steals some snarky remarks from that show.

🌙 Loves it when you smell like him. You first had to use his cologne when you were out of your own body spray. It was just an innocent thing he did, but it became something that he loves doing. Every so often, Leon will mist your clothes in the closet with his cologne just a bit so the smell lingers but isn't overpowering.

🌙 The handsome hunk of man is really good with personal hygiene and taking care of himself. Moisturized skin, conditioned hair, hydrated lips. It all makes up for it when he sometimes has to go days, even weeks with bathing. He really does hate the smell of B.O.

🌙 He can be very persuasive with you when he wants to be. Leon has a silver tongue and he knows it. He often uses it when he wants to do something very personal with you. He gives you those dreamy eyes and speaks to you in a low voice. It's almost hypnotic.

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Me in the obey me universe is such an awful idea

I am so touch starved that if one of them hugged me I'd cry 😭

I'd also be severely horny too though (asmos is scared that his sin lights up whenever I'm around) on that note...

Things I think would make me happy/horny from the brothers as a touch starved Mc

Lucifer

His hands and eyes. I can not keep eye contact I either get flustered or pissed off when someone stares at me too long I do not like being perceived😭 but I do love pretty eyes I always stare way too much (when the person isn't looking) that being said Lucifers sharp beautiful red eyes will definitely send me back to middle school when my face would turn red (I'm an embarrassing mf) and oh my I have always thought gloved hands from sexy butlers or vampires and yes demons ofc are just so fucking hot that I would always subconsciously try and touch his hand by refrain cuz I'm a loser 😞

Mammon

How handsy he is and the amount of skin he shows. I have never had much physical touch from my partners they were always either too sexual not too loving so if Mammon were to gently hold my waist or hand I would freak out most likely. I love muscle and tan men (I am tan myself what can I say😌) and I will immediately zone in on any skin shown

Levi

Definitely his hands and believe it or not his face. His hands are definitely those gamer hands that are soft but slightly veiny and just UGH I'd be eyeballing them heavily. And if he were to ever get the courage to touch me I am immediately all over them. His face when flustered is something I would absolutely be turned on by because I like a little bit of power over pathetic men so making him flustered with light flirting would send me into a frenzy

Satan

Okay listen his voice and hair. His voice is just...idk like a 'oh my' when you hear it type of voice. Not too soft but definitely not too deep it's just perfect. And I have a voice kink so yeah. Now I'm usually not into blondes but when I am I adore their fluffy hair so much. I feel like raking my hands through his hair would warm my heart and calm me

Asmos

I feel like he would understand my girl issues a lot. He would be like that gay friend who always has a pad or something like that. I was never very feminine when younger so I am just now learning everything and I feel like he would help so much with my feminine stuff

Beel

Definitely his size and muscles. I don't know why I love larger men they just always make me feel safe so if I were to just sit in Beel's lap or have him hug me I'd be so at ease and calm nothing would scare me. Now I love muscles ofc not too much but got biceps? Yes. Back muscles? Lord yes. Abs? Don't even get me started. I just get way too horny for those and beel definitely has them

Belphie

His smirk and his sassy-ness. I love me some sassy men they always make me feel like I'm talking to myself because I'm very sarcastic and sassy as well so if you match my energy I will feel more at ease with you. Now he looks more emo out of all his brothers and my god when emo boys smirk it makes me weak. Like yes sir I'll do anything you ask of me 🥴

Maybe I'll do the side characters idk if people will like this 😭

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕

ℂ𝕙𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕜 𝔽𝕖𝕞 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕

Bad Summary: Sylus the lover boy has a girlfriend that loves all things cute and pink. And he loves her for it. So he makes her a room dedicated to you.

I seen this tiktok and for some reason I imagined Sylus being the dark gloomy (and sassy) man he is known to be getting you your own room and making it like this in his enormous black home.

If anybody knew that the leader of Onychinus had a girlfriend they’d be shocked.

But if they knew his girlfriend was the polar opposite of him, they’d be speechless and confused.

You both looked like yin and yang together.

But Sylus didn’t care, he didn’t care who knew or judged because if you asked him he absolutely adores you.

He is never bored when you’re around, your cute pastel outfits, your little dresses and mini skirts. Your flaboyant personality that clashes with his in the best way he really couldn’t get enough of you.

You gives this man the worst cute aggression.

He is so deeply entertained by you, you’re a literal light and pop of color to his big black and gold home.

He still doesn’t see the appeal of pretty and cute things, though it could’ve fooled you because you tend to catch his piercing red eyes following you with every move you make with such love in his eyes.

Sylus also noticed you not only love to dress in pretty and pink, but you love to live in it. It somewhat shocked him to know you never had a problem with being at his house most of the time. Whenever he questioned you if he should remodel you insist he keep his own style if he does.

You didn’t want to change him and it warmed his heart.

So, he decided that since you are over most weekends he wanted to make his home, yours as well. For the past few weeks he had a room that the twins were in to help fix up for you behind your back. You had no clue of this seeing that you never go into that room anyways.

“Where are we going that I haven’t been? Omygosh are we finally going to the—“

“No. Not the armory, kitten.” He guides you to the door with his hands over your eyes, though he doesn’t look it he is internally nervous of whether or not you’d approve. “It’s a gift. For you.”

You feel the weight of his hands off your face and you blink open to a black door with your name encrusted in rose gold on it.

“A door.” You turn to him in a sarcastic voice, “you got me my own door.”

“And what’s behind the door too, sweetie. Open it.”

You grab the handle and are welcomed to a BEAUTIFULLY renovated room, the walls were painted a feint pink with your favorite anime/manga posters, fairy lights, and decorated exactly how your dreamt of in your Pinterest board (that Sylus totally didn’t take a look at on your phone when you were sleep) it was like walking into a different house!

You had a couch, fireplace, television, mini fridge, and you turn to see a HUGE canopy bed, made for a princess.

“What’s that smell?” You ask not out of disgust, but curiosity.

“Peony and Rose, dear. I finally found that perfume you been wanting and had it made into an air freshener for your room.”

“Well…” Sylus crosses his arms in amusement, seeing that you had the same 😧 look on your face for 3 whole minutes walking around.

You didn’t have much to say besides how beautiful and amazing this came out. It felt surreal. You turn to your tall smug boyfriend and rush to hug him tightly.

The sudden contact made him groan, taken a back he comes to his senses against reciprocates the hug.

“I assume you like it then?”

You inhale his scent before looking up at him with glossy eyes. “Thank you….”

It almost freaked him out seeing your tears swell, he hates seeing you cry, but after looking into your eyes it was due to happiness . Something he couldn’t completely understand, but could accept.

You couldn’t help but to babble on how much your were grateful and how he didn’t have to and how amazing he was, of course Sylus being Sylus teased you but deep down, he wish to capture this moment and have it on replay.

“Come! Come here!” You drag his arm to your bed, pushing back the curtains to lay down and pull him with you on the fluffy comforter.

“I had these blankets custom made from France do you really want my dirty work clothes —“

“I want you to lay with me.”

How could he tell you no?

You spoil him in kisses , holding him close to your breast, nearly smothering the man, but he doesn’t mind it. You are too cute to get frustrated with to him.

“I *kiss* love *kiss* you *kiss* so *kiss* much.”

“If I’d known you’d be this affectionate I’d turn my whole house into a pink wonderland for you.”

“Naaaah, I think this one room is okay….besides I like your home the way it is…I always did.”

And there he was, the insane, killer of a man Sylus laid beside his cute, small pretty n pink girlfriend in her cute small huge pretty n pink bed.

And he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Arrest Me, But It's Not So Sexy

Part 2 of Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy (🏷 @newobsessionweekly)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: While you're undercover, Metro raids the drug manufacturing facility you're in. Tim tries to arrest you again, but you have a job to finish.

Warnings: discussion/depiction of drug trafficking, typical show warnings, fluff and banter

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

Put me in the back of your car and we'll start a verbal flirtation. I'm doing tax fraud and arson, now take me down to your station.

“Defying orders is the best thing I’ve ever done,” you muse as your captain reviews your current case.

“You’re just lucky Bradford didn’t actually report that,” she points out. “The body cam footage and arrest got to do all the talking.”

“And you saw it and just knew you had to have me, right?”

She nods sarcastically, then pushes an envelope toward you. “This is your cover. Nysse Bret.”

“And I fit some kind of description?”

“There’s word going around about a new dealer, better product, better prices… easy on the eyes. It’s got the target dealers and producers shaken up, just how we like them.”

You nod as you look through the envelope. It’s your first time going undercover alone, but you know you can do it.

“So, you want me to shake them up a little more, overstep on their turf, down sell their product, get them out in the open?” you clarify.

“Preferably. And given your track record of disobeying orders to do the right thing, going in solo seems like the logical next step for you.”

“The product you’re giving me?” you ask.

“It’s real,” she answers. “Diluted and nearly unusable, but legitimate. If it’s tested, it’ll come back as weak but real.”

“Got it. Don’t use it. And if I need backup?”

“Never more than five minutes out. We’ll try to grab buyers as we go, but that’s not the priority.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Oh, and keep up this sassy, unbreakable thing. That’s what these guys will expect from Nysse Bret. That and not taking any crap.”

“You’re saying I can flash my gun if they think sassiness is an invitation.”

“Was that a question?”

You smile and slide your sunglasses onto your nose as you answer, “Nope.”

“Sergeant Bradford has new intel on Savva Pavlov, one of Los Angeles’s biggest drug manufacturers. Heroine, coke, if someone can do it, Pavlov can make it. We take him out, we take the majority of the drugs out of LA,” Captain Pine reports.

“Until the next guy moves in,” someone points out.

“Then we find him too,” Tim answers. “Pavlov is big, so we gain time, at least, if we take him out.”

“Take it, Bradford,” Pine encourages.

“Yes, ma’am. We have good intel, so we’re moving in on this location.” He pauses and points to a location on the screen. “There will be people inside, drugs inside. We go in protected, get everyone we can, and make sure that Pavlov doesn’t slip through the cracks. We’ll have teams of three stationed on every side of the building and we’ll enter from the north and south sides.”

“How can you know if Pavlov is there?” an officer asks.

“We don’t. If we get lucky, we arrest him. If not, we break one of his guys to find out where he is. This drug war needs to end, so we can’t wait around for Pavlov to get back from a smoke break.”

“Any questions?” Pine asks. “Preferably ones that aren’t stupid?”

“No, ma’am,” the team answers together.

“Then get ready, we roll in twenty.”

“So, you’re Nysse,” a man drawls, looking you up and down but never glancing above your neck.

“Depends,” you answer. “Would you make the woman taking your bosses’ customers wait?”

“They’re not his customers, they’re ours!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologize through chuckles. “I wasn’t aware this was a Starscream undermining Megatron situation.”

“What?”

You level your gaze, drop your smile, and remove your sunglasses to look down at the shorter man. “I said, you’re trying to act bigger and bolder than you are.”

“I’ll show you bigger and bolder,” he growls.

You lift the left side of your shirt to show the Colt 45 against your hip. “I’d like to see you try.”

The man licks his lips as he steps back. “Mr. Pavlov will be here soon. He’s finishing a meeting.”

“Perfect,” you exclaim cheerfully, dropping your shirt and sliding your sunglasses onto your head. “Hey, what’s it like working for him? Get good vacation time?”

“Perhaps you’d like to see his process while you wait,” he suggests, leading you through a swinging door.

“Oh, I’d love to.”

“This is where the magic happens,” he says, opening his arms toward the warehouse of men and women working in gas masks and hazmat suits.

“What’s back there?” you ask, pointing to a blocked-off area at the back.

“Pavlov’s office. He’ll take you back there when he arrives.” He smiles and adds, “Women like you always leave happy.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. Before you can reply sarcastically, a flashbang is thrown through one of the few ventilation windows. You see it in time to drop your head and cover your ears, but you’re still disoriented for a moment.

“LAPD Metro!” someone yells. “Drop to your knees, hands on your head! Now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you exclaim.

“Follow me,” the man beside you urges, blinking wildly to regain his vision. “There’s a-“

“Cop behind you,” you point out, tilting your head to the side. “He’s pretty cute, actually.”

“LAPD, on the ground. Now,” Tim says slowly. “That means you, sir.”

The man is still facing you, his back to Tim. You can tell he plans to run, so you lean against the rail beside you and cross your arms.

“What’s in it for me?” you ask.

“What?” Tim asks, holding his gun against his shoulder.

“If I get on the ground and ruin my outfit, what’s in it for me?”

Tim begins to say your name, but you shake your head once.

“Nysse Bart,” you introduce. “Maybe you’ve heard of me. But your little war on drugs is a war against me. So, make it worth my time and maybe I tell you what I know.”

“What about me?” the man before you asks.

“Sure, fine. Help us out, and we help you out, handsome,” you tell Tim. “Or we could just leave, find a more romantic spot.”

“You’re under arrest,” Tim says, dropping his gun to handcuff your tour guide.

“Cuffed while Pavlov enjoys the beauties of the port,” he mumbles.

So that’s where he is, you think. Picking up a shipment – or ladies – at the port.

“Bradford is it?” you ask as Tim moves toward you. “I really like how this shirt fits, so could you cuff me with my hands in front? As a sign of good faith, I’ll apologize for hitting on you.”

Tim shakes his head and pulls your hands behind your back. He places the cuffs in your hands rather than around your wrists. You huff and pout at him, then notice your phone, Nysse’s phone, is buzzing.

Another Metro officer takes Pavlov’s right-hand man, leaving you with Tim. You have to get to Pavlov, and after Metro raided the facility while you were inside, you have to go forward on your own.

“Sorry,” you say as you close one of the cuffs around Tim’s wrist.

He pulls his arm back when he feels your hand on him, but you snap the other side closed around the safety rail behind him.

“Take it off,” Tim demands.

“Sorry, sir,” you taunt as you walk backward, placing your sunglasses back on your nose. “That wasn’t quite sexy enough.”

“Get back here!”

“Oh, he looks like he wants to chase me,” you say, fanning yourself dramatically. “Navy blue booty, go ahead and lock me up.”

You wiggle your fingers to wave before you turn and walk through a side exit to catch Pavlov before he leaves the port with imported drugs. When you call your captain for backup, you tell her that Metro raided the facility, not knowing you were there. She grumbles something under her breath and promises to look into it and keep it from happening again. You remember the shock on Tim’s face when you cuffed him and realize it wasn’t so bad.

“And here I was, thinking that you’d be in the back of someone’s car admitting to tax fraud and arson,” you tease as you enter the roll call room.

“You caught Savva Pavlov,” Tim says. “Nice work.”

“If you want me to apologize for handcuffing you in a drug warehouse, I know this really nice place where we could have dinner, and I could kiss you to prove I mean it.”

Tim huffs a laugh, his smile appearing for several seconds. Your smile grows at the knowledge that Tim enjoys your back and forth as much as you do.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. “We should have done our due diligence before we went in. I risked your safety during the raid, and there’s no excuse for that.”

You shrug and assure, “It worked out. Plus, you looked so good that it was a great break from the greasy little guy I’d been stuck with.”

“Yeah, he seemed to think I interrupted something.”

“A UC operation.”

Tim nods and asks, “Are you staying with the UCs?”

“I like it. Maybe not full time, but, yes, it’s something I can see myself doing again.”

“You’re a great cop, just… be careful.”

You lay your hand on Tim’s arm and promise, “I will. Knowing you’re in Metro and will come when I call helps.”

“You don’t need anyone telling you how to do your job, I know that, but I just want to make sure you’re safe. Especially after what happened today.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, gently squeezing Tim’s arm. As you step back, you ask, “Why didn’t you actually cuff me?”

“Nysse Bart? You said the name and I realized we messed up. Not to mention that, for once, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t you just say I could do no wrong?”

“No, I said-“

“So, should we go to dinner, or do you want me to go buy some illegal contraband so you can arrest me again?” you tease.

Your smile drops when Tim says, “Dinner. Meet me outside in ten.”

He turns and is almost to the door when you ask, “Wait, seriously?”