#The bottom part probably seems funny to you

[gabgabwrites]

MOTHER F*CKER | Patrick Zweig

summary ⇝ Patrick is a local mechanic, and when you come it to get your car checked, he’s in love, but when your little baby girl comes into the frame, Patrick can safely say you’re one hot MILF!

warnings ⇝ language, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink (well duh), daddy kink if you squint, RUSHED ENDING, it’s actually a little cutesy fanfic. mdni

sorry it’s like my shortest fic 🙁

based off this request here!

Patrick is working as a mechanic, and one day you bring your car in because it's been making these weird sounds.

And when you climbed out the vehicle, Patrick thinks you're hot. You're maybe a little bit younger than him but by good heavens he thinks you're in your prime, and when he sees your little girl climb out the car, interested in looking around the shop in childlike wonder, he almost groans.

You must be taken, a mother who's probably married and is that gorgeous? Yep.

He smiles, wiping the grease off his hands and onto the old towel around his neck before approaching you both. "Hey, ladies. What brings you in?" He asks with a kind smile, glancing between the two of you.

You blink up at him and smile, your hand holding your daughters. "Hi, I came in because my car is making funny sounds. I know it's an old car but not that old. Is it fine if you have a look or do I need to book an appointment or...?"

He nods, holding back a little smirk at the sight of you holding your daughter's hand. "Yeah, I could have a look. There might be a bit of a wait though, if you're cool with that." He glances down at your little girl who seems to be distracted by an old car parked off to the side.

You nod. "No, it's fine. Hazel and I will go wait outside." You shrugged, looking down at your carbon copy.

He nods and watches you walk out, keeping his eyes trained on your figure as you go. Once you're through the doors, he turns his attention away from the entrance and over to the car you just brought in, popping the hood and beginning the inspection.

As he works away at your car, he finds himself stealing glances every now and then through the garage doors as your little girl runs around the parking lot.

Watching her make daisy chains out of the weeds while you look over old cars, he can't help but think you're even more beautiful in the natural lighting.

After about 45 minutes, Patrick wipes off the last of the grease and closes the hood. Before heading to the entrance to find you, he takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself a little bit. His eyes stay on the parking lot, keeping watch for you and your daughter.

He finally spots you sitting on the curb, your daughter settled into your lap sound asleep as you quietly hum a tune, running your fingers through her hair. He stood there a few feet away, debating whether he should interrupt you or not.

After a few beats of contemplation, he figures he should go and get you. He starts with a few quiet steps towards you before making enough noise to get your attention.

You look up and smile at him. "Finished?"

He smiles back, nodding as he stops in front of you. "Mhm. You've got a loose alternator cable. And as for the sound, it seems like the problem is with your exhaust."

You frown. "Oh, how long will that take to get fixed?"

He runs a hand over his chin, "If I order the part, it should only take a couple days, hopefully. Do you have a way to get around in the meantime?" He asks, his eyes trained on your sleeping daughter in your arms.

You nibble on your bottom lip. "I can call my sister."

He lets out a soft chuckle, "Or I can give you and your little one a ride home. It looks like you've got your hands full there." He says, nodding towards the girl asleep on your lap.

You glance down at her then back up at him. You didn't really have much of a choice, and he seemed friendly enough.

If need be, you did carry a taser in your bag. "Yes, please? That would be great."

He smiles, the corner of his eyes crinkling just a little bit with it. "Alright. 'll help you to the car." He says, offering his hand to help you up.

You happily took it, feeling his calluses scrape your fingers. He helped you up, his hand slipping away as to not linger too much. He starts a slow pace away from the garage, looking back every few seconds to make sure you're following him.

After passing through the main doors to the lot, he leads you over to a large black pickup truck. Opening the passenger door, he gestures for you to get in, his eyes focused on you.

Once you're settled in, he closes the door behind you. He circles around to the driver's side, keeping an eye on you and your daughter through the windshield as he climbs into the vehicle.

You decide if you should tell this man your address, then again if someone breaks in, you know the name of the company he works at, so you tell him.

He nods, repeating it quietly after you before starting the car. He glances over at your daughter again. "So, how old is she?"

"She just turned two in September." You tell him, with a small smile

He hums quietly, a small smile forming on his own lips. "She's a cutie, got her mama's looks." He says as he begins the drive to your address.

You couldn't help the small chuckle that left your lips. "That she is."

The car falls into a comfortable silence as the drive continues. He watches the road as he drives, stealing the occasional glance at you from out the corner of his eye.

After not too long, he pulls up in front of your house, looking out through the windshield at the small and cozy home.

"Are we here?" He asks, cutting the engine before turning to glance at you again.

You nod. "Yes, thank you so much."

He smiles, unbuckling his seatbelt. "It's no problem." He says, opening the car door and climbing out. He circles around to your side, opening up your door before holding out his hand to help you and your sleeping little girl out.

Once all three of you have exited the car, he closes the passenger door before facing you again. He can't help but be drawn to how soft you look, a warm and content smile on your lips as you hold your sleeping daughter tightly in your arms. Patrick clears his throat. "So, uh, you should tell your husband about your car, wouldn't want him worried, right?"

You blink a couple times, a little startled before you realize what he's insinuating. "Oh," you murmur, a small laugh slipping past your lips. "I actually don't have a husband." You say with a small smile.

He blinks at your confession, the realization slowly settling in. "Oh, really?" He asks, his hand moving up to idly rub the back of his neck. His heart seems to skip a beat when he considers the implications of that sentence.

You nod again. "Yeah, didn't work out, but at least he still tries to look after our daughter."

He nods as he listens, his heart beating a little faster at the knowledge that not only are you absolutely stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous, you're also single. He can faintly feel a blush beginning to travel across his cheeks so he looks away for a second, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

Patrick cleared his throat again, his hand still rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back at you. "You make for an amazing mom though, considering your little girl seems as sweet as they come."

"Thank you, I do try."

He smiles again, his eyes roaming over your figure one more time before nodding towards your front door. "Well, I better let you get inside before it gets late. It was a pleasure meeting you."

You nod. "You too, I'll be back at the shop in a week? It was about a week you said, right? If not, uh, I’ll give you my cell for you to phone when my cars finished."

He nods, feeling a little disappointed to have to wait for you to return to the shop but he doesn't show it, instead continuing to give you a friendly smile.

"Yeah, it'll probably take about a week for the part to get here. Here, let me get my phone. Gimme a sec..." He said, taking a few steps back before digging into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out his phone. He walks back over to you. "Here, just put your number in there, l'll give you a call when the cars done."

You shift your daughter to your one hip while reaching for his phone with your now free hand

He hands it over, watching as you begin to type into his phone with a small smile on his lips. His eyes flit between your own and your little one, who's still fast asleep against your shoulder.

"All done." You smile, handing him back his phone.

He takes it back from you, holding it for a few beats too long before he pockets it again. He can't help but feel a little breathless at your smile, his heart racing a little faster than it should. "Uh, I guess I'll see you in a week then."

And he does. Patrick also was sly, so while he fixed the more serious parts of your car, he'd lightly mess up another, just enough to have you concerned but nothing major, only to see you again in his shop (he charged you 30% of what other customers had to just because of his other alterations)

You start to notice the increase of issues with your car every few months and have to make the frequent trips back to the shop. But the thing that changes is the way the handsome mechanic, Patrick, seems to behave around you. He's a little more sly, a little more cocky and a little more flirty as time goes on. You can't help but notice the change.

And so it was no wonder when you began to get flustered around him, drawn to his flirty remarks and lingering touches.

The way you'd react to his flirting only feeds his ego, driving him a little more wild and crazy each time. The way you'd blush and stutter, trying to keep your cool would only make him want to push your buttons more, to have you flustered and squirming for him.

Eventually, you two started seeing each other, he'd take you on little dates while your sister baby sat, or the three of you would do something altogether.

As your relationship with Patrick grows, he's more and more drawn in by you. He loves spending time with you but seeing vou interact with Hazel and vice versa, seeing how you are as a mother makes him want you in a whole other way.

Was it too quick for Patrick to want to put a ring on your finger? Yes. But you two weren't getting younger.

He knew he was moving a little fast but he can't help it. You make him crazy, make him want things he hasn't dared to think about for too long while staring at your lips, your neck, your wrists... he was gonna marry you if it was the last thing he ever did.

He eventually moved in (bills were equally split). He's living in your home, sharing your bed, your shower, your kitchen. And he could honestly say he's never been so happy. He's got a beautiful fiancé who's also the most caring, perfect woman he's ever met. It almost makes his life perfect.

Almost.

Except now he needs to claim you. Mark you as his. So it's no wonder when he has you on all fours, arched back and sobbing while you're taking his cock, relentlessly bullying your cunt. "Shh-h-h, ma. Don't wanna wake Hazel up, do you?" He asks, pulling at your hair and feeling you clamp around him.

Your little girl is asleep in the other room, and Patrick knows you're trying your hardest to keep quiet so as not to disturb her. But he doesn't want to make it easy for you. He grips your hip a little tighter with one hand while the other starts moving along your back, feeling every inch of your skin under his fingers.

His pace picks up, his eyes never leaving your body as his gaze travels over your arching figure. "You sound so good, ma. Trying really hard to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet while I breed this cunt. Gonna knock you up nice. Don't you wanna make me a daddy?"

The mention of getting you pregnant has your stomach in knots. You can't help but whimper, your brain trying to come up with a coherent answer. "Y-Yes! Wanna to make you a daddy real bad."

His hand moves down your body, resting on the soft flesh of your stomach. "Yeah, ma? You want me to fill you up? Get you pregnant with our baby?" He asks, his voice a little rougher than before.

You moan, feeling your heart and pussy flutter. "Fuck, yes. Need to...to..."

"Need to what? Need to take my cum in your sweet, needy little hole? Need to have me fill you up until you're leaking? Want me to breed you real good? I'll do it. I'm gonna fill you up so good, you'd never forget who your daddy is."

Your heart hammers against your chest, his words making a knot tighten in your gut as a shiver runs up your spine. "Yes, please, need you to, want you to fill me up!"

"Want to have my baby?" He asks, giving your hips a light little smack. "Want me to knock you up nice and good?" You could only nod, feeling your lower belly stir. Feeling you nod eagerly has him groaning quietly. "You're gonna look so damn pretty pregnant, ma." He growls, his fingers gripping you a bit tighter like he was holding onto you for dear life.

You could feel his hips stutter.

"Gonna be so sweet on you, ma. I'll spoil you so damn much. My sweet little wife, all filled up with my baby. I...oh." He moans, his pace becoming a bit less steady as his fingers flex on your hips.

You felt him spill inside you, never feeling as full as you did. That feeling alone pushed you to your own orgasm.

Patrick held you against him while you trembled through your own release, his eyes watching your body shaking under his touch. His breath felt heavy, his own heartbeat a little too fast as he watched you. His hand slid up your back, coming to a rest between your shoulder blades before his lips made contact with your skin, leaving a soft kiss there. "Think it worked?" He asks quietly.

"There's only one way to find out..." You said through a grin, voice breathless.

He lets out a small chuckle, his lips moving over to your neck. "Guess we'll have to try and try again until it does." He murmurs before nipping your skin gently.

You anchored yourself into the bed, preparing for a long night ahead of you when a high-pitched voice called out for you.

"Mama!"

Just a few words was all it took to have reality setting in. The two of you freeze, your heart beating a little faster as the realization of what you were doing just a moment ago dawns on you. Patrick slowly pulls back, sitting up and away from you on the bed, his eyes glancing at the door.

"Well, duty calls." You mumble, standing up on wobbly legs to grab your gown and wrapping it around yourself.

He watches you get up after a few beats, admiring the sight of you in your gown before he slowly gets up himself, grabbing the pair of boxers he laid on the bed only a few hours before. Once you're both decent, he opens the door for you so you can go to your daughter.

Hazel's in her bed, her big eyes staring up at the ceiling and her tiny hands grasping a handful of her blanket. She turns her head towards you when she hears you walk in. "Mama? Thirsty."

You felt your bottom eyelid twitch, but nonetheless you smiled. "Okay, baby. I'll go get you some water."

She gave you a small nod and a sleepy smile while you made a mental note to remind her that she's not supposed to get out of bed whenever she's thirsty.

You were about to exit the room when you heard her tiny voice once more.

"Mama?" You turned back around to her. She looked at you with those big, innocent eyes of hers. "Read me a story, please?" She asks quietly.

You let out a soft sigh. "Okay, my angel. I'll go get you water while you pick out a book."

Her face immediately lights up at your answer, a smile stretching across her lips and revealing her missing two front teeth. "Okay!" She eagerly responds before crawling over to dig through the pile of books on the floor next to her bed.

You can't help but shake your head at her eagerness to always have a bedtime story as you leave her room and close the door behind you. Once you're in the hallway, you glance towards the bedroom you and Patrick share, and find him sitting on the bed, a bemused look on his face.

"Wait until it's your own child calling for their dad." You told him with a pointed look before turning and disappearing to the kitchen.

Patrick just lets out a quiet chuckle, he can't wait for that day to come. He grins to himself as he leans back against the pillows behind him, his mind filled with the idea of a miniature version of you or him or both calling him 'Dad'.

The thought alone has his heart clenching a little.

[sonysakura]

According to this graph, I'm only allowed to draw/write canon characters in exactly canon setting and if I want to ship any characters, they have to be a... *checks notes again* ...celibate cishet couple who were preferably born in the same month and year and were introduced to each other with the prospect of becoming romantic partners... oh right, also they have to support current government.

I heard gore is allowed though!

[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[sauntervaguelydown]

it's funny although a little exasperating how artists designing "princess" or medieval-esque gowns really do not understand how those types of clothes are constructed. We're all so used to modern day garments that are like... all sewn together in one layer of cloth, nobody seems to realize all of the bits and pieces were actually attached in layers.

So like look at this mid-1400's fit:

to get the effect of that orange gown, you've got

chemise next to the skin like a slip (not visible here) (sometimes you let a bit of this show at the neckline) (the point is not to sweat into your nice clothes and ruin them)

kirtle, or undergown. (your basic dress, acceptable to be seen by other people) this is the puffing bits visible at the elbow, cleavage, and slashed sleeve. It's a whole ass dress in there. Square neckline usually. In the left picture it's probably the mustard yellow layer on the standing figure.

Specific Italian style gown. This is the orange diamond pattern part. It's also the bit of darker color visible in the V of the neckline.

surcoat, or sleeveless overgown. THIS is the yellow tapestry print. In the left picture it's the long printed blue dress on the standing figure

if you want to get really fancy you can add basically a kerchief or netting over the bare neck/shoulders. It can be tucked into the neckline or it can sit on top. That's called a partlet.

the best I can tell you is that they were technically in a mini-ice-age during this era. Still looks hot as balls though.

Coats and surcoats are really more for rich people though, normal folks will be wearing this look:

tbh I have a trapeze dress from target that looks exactly like that pale blue one. ye olden t-shirt dress.

You can see how the “renaissance festival” style of kirtle (left) is a modern recreation of this look (right)

so now look here:

(this is a princess btw) both pieces are made of the same blue material so it looks as if it's all one dress, but it's not. The sleeves you're seeing are part of the gown/coat, and the ermine fur lined section on top is a sideless overgown/surcoat. You can tell she's rich as fuck because she's got MORE of that fur on the inside of the surcoat hem.

okay so now look at these guys.

Left image (that's Mary Magdelene by the way) you can see the white bottom layer peeking out at the neckline. That's a white chemise (you know, underwear). The black cloth you see behind her chest lacing is a triangular panel pinned there to Look Cool tm. We can call that bit the stomacher. Over the white underwear is the kirtle (undergown) in red patterned velvet, and over the kirtle is a gown in black. Right image is the same basic idea--you can see the base kirtle layer with a red gown laced over it. She may or may not have a stomacher behind her lacing, but I'm guessing not.

I've kind of lost the plot now and I'm just showing you images, sorry. IN CONCLUSION:

you can tell she's a queen because she's got bits I don't even know the NAMES of in this thing. Is that white bit a vest? Is she wearing a vest OVER her sideless surcoat? Girl you do not need this many layers!

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 2

prev

You....really shouldn't have bitten Alastor.

It was a threat, yep, and the guy did need to learn his actions had consequences, but...er. Was that really worth this?

The Radio Demon had practically been your shadow for the past week. His expression never changed, his tone never shifted. You were like, 90 percent sure he was thinking of the best way to kill you for maximum pain.

Pain wasn't good. You were allergic to it.

...That line usually got a chuckle out of whoever heard it, or in your case, whenever you thought it. However, this time, it didn't quite tickle your funny bone as it usually did.

Because Alastor was standing right there.

And staring at you.

In your goddam bedroom.

"....Hi." You said, chewing on your bottom lip.

Alastor's gaze darted for a second to your lip, then back to your eyes. And he said nothing.

"...Did you need something?" You said.

He continued to stare at you, unblinking.

You sighed "Listen, if you're going to kill me can you just hurry up already? I'm sure it beats how awkward this is."

Other than the slightest twitch of an ear, he still didn't respond.

You huffed, narrowing your eyes as a growl permeated through the air. "At least say something!"

He didn't.

"OKay, fine!" You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air. You crossed them over your chest with a pout, giving Alastor a mean side-eye. "Keep standing there doing nothing. I guess I could use a new hat rack anyway."

"...You don't have any hats?" He said, tilting his head to one side.

"I'll get some so I can justify having a hat rack." You said, tail flicking.

"Mhm... So, how sincere is this threat?"

"What?"

Alastor straightened his posture, taking a couple long strides to stand right at your bedside. "You make a lot of threats, my dear. And I've only ever seen you carry 1 out."

"Usually people listen to me." You said, rolling your eyes.

"So you've never actually follow through before?" He tilted his head to the opposite side than before. His grin seemed to stretched a bit, ears becoming less stiff.

"Does that make you happy?" You said, turning to face him "That you're the first idiot who made me actually do something?"

From how he practically beamed you can only assume it did. You sighed, flopping down onto the bed on your side. The intent was to ignore him until he got bored and went away or got sick of you and killed you.

Instead you found a shadowy tendril wrapping around your middle, rolling you onto your back. Alastor grinned down at you, his body a perfect 90-degree angle bent at the waist.

"I'm the first one you've bit?"

"...Yeah?" You said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean. I think I bit people when I was little and pretending I had rabies, but not really intending to hurt them..."

His grin widened. "How did I taste?"

...

"What."

"I want to know. How did I taste?"

Oh right he was a cannibal. You grimaced internally. Was that just something cannibals got giddy about? 'Hey I'm the first person you've eaten hurrah!'

The tendril around you gave a firm squeeze. You sighed and met Alastor's crimson eyes, giving him a flat look of your own.

"Dry and tough- like badly made jerky."

He laughed. "Well, of course! You bit into my jacket! Silly creature, you."

"....Well, you asked."

"That I did, that I did." Alastor hummed. He tilted his head too far to one side, leaning in closer to you "Would you care for a taste without my jacket?"

"No." You responded curtly.

The silence was palpable. Neither of you broke eye contact or changed your expressions for several moments. Those moments seemed very, very long.

His eye slowly twitched up and his ears dropped ever-so-slighty-

"Hm. Well, it's not like you'd manage that anyway."

"Probably not. Are we done?"

Another beat of silence passed before the shadows tendril dissolved into mist and Alastor was standing up straight again.

"Now, I wouldn't say this matter is done, but I suppose it could wait."

You sat up, staring at him. The more you stared, the more his eyes couldn't seem to decide on what to focus on. Was he...nervous?

That encounter didn't go anywhere else significant. He simply said a farewell and left you to your own devices.

===========

Your eye twitched as you took a long, deep breath.

Alastor was being so horribly, horribly annoying.

The last couple days he resumed his role as your shadow, but this time solely with the task of irritating you. He'd chew loudly, he'd step in an off-rhythm on purpose, he'd claw the surface of things you couldn't stand the sound of and it made your ears hurt and your jaw ache from how much you were grinding your teeth.

You had enough.

"Will you LEAVE ME ALONE!?" You snapped at him. He didn't so much as flinch, simply tilting his head and he leaned closer to you.

"Or what?"

"I'm going to shove your hooves so far up your ass you'll be coughing up horseshoes for a week-"

"I'm a deer, not a horse." He said, eyes crinkling up in amusement at your 'threat'.

You hissed out an agitated breath before taking a couple deep, long breaths and you felt your jaw lax (a little) and your temper die down a bit.

"...Yeah, you're right." You said after a moment "And I'm sorry. I didn't really have much of a reason to snap at you like that."

His eyes narrowed and you couldn't be bothered to wonder why. You said a curt goodbye and meandered off, feeling his eyes trained on your retreating form. You couldn't be bother to think about that, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi it's me the writer. Letting you all know that this is not planned in the slightest and i'm just winging it. No smut will happen EVER though because I don't wanna write it. So kindly look elsewhere if that's what you want. I will put a poll here though with considerations for potential next installment

[flannelshirtandjeans]

I designed my own Monster High ghoul doll! She is the daughter of Näkki, a water spirit that can camouflage itself as rock or driftwood and drowns people who are careless in water. She is Finnish, loves metal music and coffee, and cares deeply about sustainable fishing practices and protecting lakes and ponds and rivers. Her pet is a skeletal seal pup, who once died in fishermen's nets, but was brought to a new life by Lumme's sadness and anger. She's a part of the metal club at MH, but doesn't play or sing, more just enjoys listening to it and bonding with her fellow students. She my seem quiet and reserved, but won't stop talking if you get to know her properly!

Some design notes under cut:

Also I'd like to add design notes to this:

- fishing nets and hooks & related things are a big design note in her doll because she did almost die by drowning stuck in a fishing net, and she has Feelings about questionable fishing practices.

- there's a permanent tangle of netting around her neck to represent the way she technically died

- her purse is a glass float

- her hair is a light ashy blonde-brown - dirt road brown as we call it in Finland, which is a common hair color in Finland, with accents of darker brown, green, and blue.

- blue eyes, cloudy iris, dark eye whites. Netting eye-shine

- her base skin tone is a light grey, but she has rocky camouflage and birch-tree camouflage on her limbs, ears, and forehead to represent her camouflage/shapechanging abilities

- Luunappi is a skeletal "kuutti", baby northern ringed seal, who died of getting stuck in nets, and Lumme's anger and sadness at the injustice magically revived it

- frappe bc Finns drink ridiculous amounts if coffee per capita but I didn't want to give her straight up black coffee

- Karelian boo-strie is a Karelian pastry but made to look like a fish with big teeth

- her object heel is a fishing loom stone, a type of a fishing weight

- her phone is not an iCasket bc she's _Finnish_ and obvs reps Nokia instead. Hence Noakiasket

- sea glass bottle bottom sunglasses. Seaglass is frosty so that's a little funny for sunglasses but listen.

- the CD is "Nemo" by _Nightfish_ which is obviously a silly riff on Nightwish, which is a Finnish metal band, and she loves metal (Finland has so many metal bands. We just really love metal.). I decided on a CD-player purely for nostalgic reasons.

- "Land of a thousand lake monsters" refers to Finlnd, and you can see the shape of Finland on the cover. Finland is called the land of a thousand lakes, so we probably have a lot of lake monsters too.

- yellow comes a little out of nowhere for this, but I like raincoat yellow and it reminds me of fishers, so I can have it.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Hater ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Incel vibes; Hate; Noncon (in his imagination cause he's delulu).

--

◾ Yandere!Hater who fucking hates your guts. Frankly doesn’t understand all the hype surrounding you.

You’re mediocre, at best. Nothing that special about you so he fails to understand why you’re getting increasingly popular these days.

You're not intelligent. You’re not talented. You’re not funny.

Heck, you’re not even that pretty.

Fuck, you’re actually nothing interesting. 

Just another brainless bimbo on her 5 minutes of fame. 

◾ Yandere!Hater that spends hours scrolling your social media, spamming your posts with countless mean comments, hoping you see them. You deserve them and he hopes you cry reading them. Worthless bitch.

Acting all sweet and delicate in front of cameras, but he knows better. You’re just another stuck-up assed girl.

Probably feeding on attention and money while being a slut to every rich guy that you get a chance to meet. 

◾ Yandere!Hater who runs an online account - dedicated to you, obviously - where he venomously spreads hate against you. It’s his little safe-haven, where he gets to expose your fake ass to the world.

Actively targets and attacks anyone that dares leave those disgustingly cute supportive comments under your posts. Gets involved in so many Discord and Twitter arguments that he’s lost count on how many times his account has been banned.

It’s not his fault that your fans are stupid simps. 

◾ Yandere!Hater who thinks the absolute worst about you. You’re an ugly arrogant bitch.  But that doesn’t stop him from rubbing one off while his eyes are glued to that Instagram photo you recently uploaded - you’re at the beach, a huge smile on your face and your body only covered by the skimpy tiny bikini. 

He furiously touches himself at the sight, imagination drifting towards a scenario where he runs into you at the beach.

You’ve briefly mentioned in an interview about your fear of the ocean, never having learned how to swim. Dumb you. 

So he thinks about your plastic smile quickly disappearing as his hand grabs you by the hair, violently dragging towards the water. You seem pretty weak, especially given he has a strong toned body when compared to yours. 

His cock twitches at the thought of you desperately fighting, begging him with tears shining in your eyes. He’d tame you rather easily, a mean slap or two making you shut up.

He’d pull you into the water, ignoring you as you hyperventilate. Push you to the deepest parts of the sea, the ones where only his feet are able to reach, forcing you to cling on to his shoulders for dear life.

You’d cry and whimper, begging him to take you back to the sand. 

But he’d only smile, slipping your bottom off - uncaring of the fact that the waves take away the thin piece of fabric.

So what if everyone sees you half-naked when you get back on land? You’re a slut and everyone should know that. 

◾ Yandere!Hater who almost cums at the thought of telling you to ride him - right there on the water - or otherwise he’d just drop you in the water.

Your choice.

You can either ride him quietly as he holds your ass with a tight grip or you can find out how to swim for yourself. He closes his eyes, relishing the climax that runs over him, imagining it’s your tight pussy that brought him to his orgasm, his cum dumped deep in your little cunt. 

◾ Yandere!Hater who pretends like this was one rare occasion that won’t happen again but day after day, he finds himself with a hand down his pants, abusing his cock while imagining fucking you in the most degrading ways that exist. 

◾ Yandere!Hater that gets more and more spiteful of you, which leads to a few disastrous encounters with you in public - only possible thanks to his network of connections with paparazzi - finding you as you go out with friends.

Encounters those that end with him being wrestled away from you by the buffy bodyguards that work for you, while you cower behind your friends, who weakly try protecting you from the eyes of the lunatic who just tried to drag you into his car. 

◾ Yandere!Hater that promises himself to do humanity a favor and take you away from the spotlight, maybe a place in his basement is more appropriate for you.

[why-are-you-still-awake]

Jealousy with the Naruto boys

A/n: I’ve seen this done multiple times so here’s my take on it :)

Warning/content: nothing :)

characters: Sasuke, Gaara, Sai

Sasuke Uchiha

☆ Sasuke claims to not be a jealous person, “he’s above that” as he puts it, but something about seeing you laughing and smiling with someone else makes him feel weird, insecure? No couldn’t be…. He likes to think that he’s just being overprotective and he’s not jealous, he believes he’s too good to be jealous and let’s be real, he’s far too prideful to admit he’s a little insecure. ☆

☆ One time when you guys were out in the Konoha market place, some person came up to you and started a casual conversation, but to Sasuke it seemed like this person was getting a little too close for comfort. So to solve this, he came up behind you and placed his arm over your shoulder giving the person a “can I help you?” Look, let’s say they didn’t stick around much longer. ☆

☆ If you try and bring up his jealous behavior, he’ll deny it adamantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust other people. If we’re being honest here, he’s deeply afraid of losing you, to him you’re the only person he has left. So even when he’s being a jealous prick, it comes from a place of love even if he doesn’t outright express it. ☆

Gaara

☆ He wouldn’t consider himself a jealous person by any means, he love you and you love him. He has no reason to be insecure or jealous, but even the kazekage struggles to be reasonable sometimes, he’s only human after all. He wouldn’t be very upfront about his feelings, if you noticed jealous behavior then you’d have to bring it up because he won’t talk about it first. ☆

☆ One time you were waiting for a council meeting to be over and you were in meeting room with him, it was very boring like watching paint dry would’ve been more entertaining. You soon notice a younger council member staring at you trying to get your attention and smiling at you, you politely smile back but then Gaara catches on to the silent interaction. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer while clearing his throat and continuing speaking. ☆

☆ If you ultimately decide to confront him about his momentary jealous behavior, he won’t deny it but will probably be very embarrassed he was caught doing something like that even if you reassure him that you’re not upset and may even find his jealous protectiveness attractive…..☆

☆ He didn’t know anything really about relationships do to growing up in Root, so you and to guide him and explain things basically. Some might’ve found It tiring but you found it endearing to an extent. He had never experienced jealousy before until he saw you talking to someone else who seemed to be pretty funny because you couldn’t stop laughing, he had a weird feeling in his chest and it made him feel *strange* he didn’t understand.☆

☆ He decided to try and get to the bottom of this weird feeling in his chest, so he decided to just outright tell you how he was feeling, you were kinda surprised, but after breaking through the momentary freeze and explained it to him. He was surprised, he never thought he’d be jealous, he trusted you, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him. ☆

☆ There’s no really confronting him about jealous behavior because he’s very honest about how he’s feeling, he definitely forgets appropriate time and place sometimes when he says something, he’s unintentionally a good communicator because of how honest he is and won’t beat around the bush with how he feels. He loves you and wants you to know. ☆

A/n: I’ve never written for Sai before, so sorry if his part sucks. Thanks for reading, love u <3

Do not repost

Edit: thank you all who heart or reblogged or in someway interacted with this post, it means so much <33

[frudoo]

John Price with his chunky baby and spunky baby mama 🫶

Warnings: Spit-up, normal baby things!!

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Better stop kickin’ them legs, little lady,” John huffs, squishing the giggling infant’s round cheeks softly to make her lips pucker out.

Her incessant babbling and the playful growls that come from your husband’s mouth coax you into the nursery. As you lean against the doorframe, you have to stifle a laugh—there are about twenty used wipes scattered about the changing table, and the rowdy little babe is kicking off every fresh diaper John tries to put on her. Suddenly, her cute little coos and gummy smiles turn into tiny grunts and a concentrated face. Your eyes widen, trying to warn your husband.

“John, she’s about to-!”

“Bloody hell!” He groans, holding a diaper over his weapon of a baby’s bottom.

The laughs don’t cease this time, covering your mouth as your chest shakes with spiteful delight. You walk over to your grimacing husband, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He sighs in defeat, grabbing what seems like the thousandth wipe and starting the whole process over again.

“Think it’s funny, do ya?” John jokes, turning around momentarily to give you a playful glare.

“I think it’s hilarious, actually. She gets it from her dad,” you shrug, crossing your arms and cooing at your chunky baby.

“Ha, ha,” John mocks dismissively, giving his baby girl a stern look as he lifts her legs up yet again. She replies with a belly laugh, and his pursed lips turn upward into an amused grin as he slides the fresh diaper beneath her bottom.

“Got a pair o’lungs like her mum, though,” he smirks, fastening the sticky tabs to the front part of the nappy.

That earns him a soft smack to the back of his neck, making his shoulders dance with each chuckle he lets out. John zips up the pink camouflage onesie he’d put on her and lifts her into the air, pretending to groan like she’s the heaviest thing he could possibly lift. She babbles and stares down at him adoringly for a moment before staring off into space and chewing on her fist. He lowers her into his bent arms, cradling her and tapping her nose with the tip of his finger.

“Here, give her to me, I’ll go get her a teething ring,” you suggest, holding your arms out to your chubby little infant.

John laughs heartily as the sassy infant glances at you through her peripheral vision before returning her attention back to her old man. The heart-eyes she gives him make you pout, bottom lip quivering in mock offense.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I guess she just prefers her daddy,” he beams, lifting the baby up into the air once more, but making one crucial mistake—pressing his hands into her soft tummy.

You raise an eyebrow as John continues to brag and boast about the tiny human’s favoritism. He misses the way her squishy body jiggles with a silent burp. You don’t.

“Ain’t that right, lovebug? Daddy’s your very fav-” he stops mid-sentence when the waterfall of rancid milk spews out of the wriggly baby’s mouth and right into his own.

Wordlessly, you take your daughter (who seems rather proud of herself) into your arms and clean her up with a burp rag, leaving John open-mouthed and horrified in the middle of the nursery. You snicker as you kiss the noisy babe on her forehead, cooing to her proudly. With a final glance over your shoulder, you smile innocently at your husband with one last suggestion.

“Should probably brush your teeth before you come back downstairs.”

[lucimaaie]

missed you pt2 ✧.* tlou

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - you have interesting hungover conversation with ellie.

warning - not proofread, was listening to laufey when i wrote this so if it’s sappy then yk why, i feel like I write the same thing but im trying to diversify I promise, reader kind of replaces cat

part 1

ellie hadn’t slept much that night unsurprisingly. whether it was the anxiety of how you’d react or that she hadn’t been this close to you in forever, she didn’t know. probably both.

so she snuck a few yours before you woke up, unintentionally leaving you to wake up alone. she was at the door kicking the snow off her boots before she realize you were waking.

her shoulders tensed as she closed the door with softest click she could and slipped off her backpack, back still facing you. “you’re up.” she said tentatively. once she was rid of her coat, she looked at you from the corner of her room.

tired was an almost euphemism for what you felt. fatigue seemed to blur your vision as you sat up and attempted to take in your surroundings. the room was familiar and foreign at the same time. there was one spot that caught your attention. the corner where ellie was emerging from.

her lips folded into a thin line that was supposed to look like a smile. the action made her cheeks puff up slightly, which you just happened to catch once the remnants of sleep were rubbed out your eyes. "i'm in your room." you said, voice rougher than usual.

"that you are." ellie sat at the edge of the bed, messing with the stray threads on the cuffs of her jeans. that didn't keep her eyes off you for long though.

"and hungover."

"that too."

"god." you mumbled into your hands. the covers scrunched around you as you brought your knees to your chest. you desperately wanted to crawl into the deepest, darkest corner of the world and disappear. yeah, you'd wanted to speak to ellie again, not as some drunk mess saying things you wouldn't remember the next morning. "please tell me i didn't do anything embarrassing.”

“you..said you missed me, almost threw up in my bed, and..” ellie trailed off, her mind fixating on one particular thing you’d said last night. something she still couldn’t believe you said. we shouldn’t have broke up. “other than that.” she shrugged.

“i-that’s still embarrassing. incredibly embarrassing.”

"it was a little funny." try emotionally confusing, you coming to her room with little to no filter and feelings she’d thought she was alone in feeling, but that’s not what she wanted to talk about. so yeah, she was going to laugh about it.

“it is not.”

“it is.”

"this is real shitty of you. laughing at my misfortune.” you feigned annoyance as you crawled out of her bed, eyes darted around for your shoes. your eyes froze as you landed on them in the corner of the room. you could slip them on, apologize profusely and leave. forget about the whole embarrassment of waking up in your ex's bed. who were you kidding, you could never forget anything when it came to her.

“your misfortune? try fighting off your drunk cuddly ass.” ellie tucked her bottom lip under her teeth as she saw you spot your shoes, growing quiet at the possibility of you leaving.

you rubbed your face, taking a seat next to ellie. for a moment, it was silent with the weight of everything neither of you wanted to talk about at the moment. you brought your knees up to your chest and rested your head on top. when you turned to look at ellie she was looking back, taking in what she couldn't last night. "on a scale of 1 to 10, how terrible do I look?"

"you're asking the wrong person." ellie said almost immediately. she let out a slow breath, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip.

you wanted so badly to stop her from biting her lips and soothe the pain with your own. you turned your head to stare at her drawings across the wall. "y'know, it's okay to say 10."

"i wouldn't say that."

"yeah, i know." your hands tangled in your hair as you tried to adjust it to something more presentable, but of course it wouldn't work with you. eventually, you left it alone and focused on ellie again, taking her in. your eyes trailed from top to bottom as subtly as you could. (which was not at all) "you still have that." your eyes fixated on the detailed design on her arm. you still couldn't believe that she'd trusted you do that, assuring you that she couldn't hate anything you put on her skin. of course, she enjoyed the brief panicked look on your face when she pretended you messed up. even if you did, she trusted you. did that change? "i mean, of course you would, how would you get it removed? sorry, that’s my hungover brain talking, i’m gonna go.”

ellie shouldn't have been surprised. that doesn't mean she was looking forward to letting you walk away, knowing you'd most likely avoid each other after this. "what? wait, we could..have breakfast, i dunno. i can see if marie has some of that soup she gives to-"

"you don't have to," you approached the door and slipped on your shoes. "i'm sure i've done enough to bother you."

"you didn't. you don't-" ellie hated how desperate she sounded. "look, you can't tell me you're not feeling sick, right now. let's just eat and we can't talk or we don't have to." whatever to keep you with her.

"and you promise i'm not bothering you?"

"i promise." you don't ever bother her. not even when you would knock on her door at the asscrack of dawn just cause you were in desperate need of cuddles. she needed that. needed you to keep her on track and reminded that she was worth loving, that she mattered to you as much as you did to her. you were the first to show her that and in a small town where she was liable to see you every day, she was never set up to get over you.

it was silent as you and ellie took turns bringing a warm spoonful of soup up to your mouths. ellie had seemed to get disinterested in it fast, leaving the rest of the canister on you. that was no doubt on purpose. the silence was stuck between being as comfortable as it used to be and heavy with the feeling of 'i'm not over you.'

"bunny." ellie turned her head to look at you, pointing out the grey spotted rabbit munching on some grass. she smiled as your attention completely shifted to the furry creature. "you still love those, huh?"

"course i do." you said confidently. "i haven't changed that much. if i do, you have permission to smack me." you mumbled through a mouthful of soup, eyes still focused on the now escaping bunny.

"noted." ellie leaned back on her hands, watching you with a look of adoration in her eyes.

when it was gone your focus shifted to her. "so have you?" you set down the canister, swiping your fingers across your mouth.

"what? changed? i don't think i have. not in three years." ellie looked out to the trees in front of you, suddenly uncomfortable talking about herself. she did not want to get into how she was doing without you.

"don't know if i believe that."

"what does that mean?" ellie asked, feeling exposed.

"three years' a long time."

"don't remind me." her eyes darted everywhere on your face but your eyes. her eyes fell to your lips, catching residue from the soup you’d just been eating. she leaned over and swiped her thumb on the side of your lips. she didn’t dare look back up to see your reaction.

“did you miss me?”

“you know the answer to that.” ellie kept her eyes on the dirt, ants walking in a line, anything to keep her from cluing you in on her internal battle.

“what if i want you to say it?”

“you’d have to say it back.”

“then i’m waiting on you to say it first.”

she finally looked back at you, seeing your teasing smile. “gosh, you’re a fucking tease.” she covered her face, letting them drop seconds later. how dare you tease her as if nothing had changed?

“you said we could talk. this is what i wanna talk about.”

“aw, i forgot you love to talk.”

“and i forgot you don’t.” the teasing in your words wasn’t enough to cover up, the underlying frustration. neither of you said anything, sitting in the truth of your words. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“no, you’re right.” ellie tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to hide the hurt in her voice. “we need to talk.” her fingers were digging into the dirt in an attempt to ground herself in this conversation. she didn't want to dig up anything from years ago, the day she stopped talking to joel, finding out the truth, pushing you away, she wanted to bury it. though, that was what got her in this situation in the first place. if she wanted you, she'd have to stop running, she knew that.

"i don't wanna force you to. i'm pushy, i know-"

"you're not. you never forced me to do anything. i just..i don't- i didn't wanna put any of my shit on you. it wasn't you. it was never you."

“it just seemed like you were always going through things you couldn’t tell me. or wouldn’t." ellie was forced to look at you as you angled your body towards her. "but it wasn't your fault, i was being too pushy with you and i'm sorry."

ellie hated the way you felt the need to excuse your needs for being pushy or expecting too much. that and throwing jokes out that she knew had truth to them, that you were completely serious. the word made her jaw tight. she made you do that and she needed to fix that. "you're not pushy. i'm just..an asshole." she leaned closer, dusting the dirt of her hands. “you were..good for me. are. you are good for me.”

"knocking on your door drunk. that's good for you?" you joked, failing at hiding the effect of her words on you. how they gave you hope.

“i'll take it." ellie said softly.

"what if..hypothetically, i don't come to you drunk and instead like 85% sober and we just.." you shrugged. "i dunno, whatever you want." now you were the one fidgeting, tying and untying your shoestrings.

"85% percent?" ellie's hand was gentle in stopping you.

"shut up, you know what i mean."

"we can do that." she was this close to stabbing her brain with a little screwdriver for not keeping her hands off you. here you were talking about just hanging out and she was ready to jump back into how things were. you didn't pull your hand as she rubbed circles across the back of your hand. "too soon?"

"not at all." you scooted closer, giving her your other hand which she took without hesitation. her hands were unsurprisingly cold in your warm ones, but you didn't mind warming her up. "look at you communicating."

"okay, too soon."

thank you for reading!

[fastandcarlos]

Not So Insulting : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: although the fans around you don't seem to have logan's back, you most definitely do

You could see watching Logan from afar, his shoulders were low and his expression blank. His eyes kept glancing to a group of people stood just to his left, almost as if he was tuning into their conversation and not exactly enjoying what he was hearing. 

After a few moments, you walked across and stood in front of Logan, distracting him from what was around him, heart breaking at the disappointed expression that you saw on his face. 

Ever since it had been announced that Logan would be leaving Williams it almost seemed as if people suddenly had the freedom to say what they wanted. There had always been some conversations, but now they seemed to be getting louder with people relieved to see the potential end of Logan’s career in Formula 1. 

Yet, as you stood there too, things didn’t change, if anything their voices became louder, almost as if they wanted you to hear exactly what they were saying, 

“He’s been a waste of a seat for the past two years,” one of them spoke, immediately getting your back up. 

A faint sigh came from Logan, his eyes shutting as he tried to block out what was happening around him. You reached forwards and took a hold of his hand, reassuring him that you were there, trying your best to distract him once again from listening. 

“We might actually see Williams be successful again now,” another added, another stab into Logan’s back. 

“They must have been desperate back then to ever think about signing someone like him.” 

As much as Logan tried his best to not let you see how much the comments were getting to him, this time it was obvious. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, his teeth bit down hard on his bottom lip as he tried to keep his emotions in check and not let people see how bothered he was.  

You stood and braced yourself for the next comment, but luckily for you both it didn’t arrive. You could still hear their giggles though, finding the funny side of berating Logan and his career together.  

It wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t the last time, you’d had to stand back and listen to Logan be criticised from the moment he walked through the door, and it seemed it was going to carry on until he said goodbye too. 

You’d spent the past two years having to stand back and do nothing, but with your loyalties only with Logan now, there was nothing to hold you back from doing what you had wanted to do for the past two years. 

“Are you proud of yourselves?” You loudly asked. 

The figures in the group all looked around, neither of them knowing what to say as they spotted you, a nervous looking Logan just behind you, anxiously watching as he tried to figure out what you were doing. 

After a moment you cleared your throat, staring them down. “You’re supposed to be professional journalists and this is how you behave? Would you ever write what you’ve all just said in an article and deliver it to your boss?” 

Logan reached out in an attempt to take your hand, but you shrugged him off, knowing that you’d both let it slide for far too long. 

“I’ll be happy to write up about this in an article, the headlines would love this.” 

“Do it, see if I care. I’m sure if your boss knew how you spoke about other drivers then you probably wouldn’t even have a career anymore, right?” 

“We speak the truth.” 

“Do you? Because the Logan that I see is a hardworking, talented driver who has dedicated himself to that team over the past two years and it’s about time all of you saw that in him too.” 

A couple of them went to speak again, but before they could, you took a hold of Logan’s hand again and spun around, walking as far away from them as you could into a much quieter part of the paddock where you could be alone. 

Logan stumbled behind you as he tried to come to terms with what he had just seen, stunned by how you had come to his defence, finally managing to silence his critics, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

The two of you sat down behind the Williams garage, Logan’s arm immediately wrapped around as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, letting go of the heavy breath that he had been holding onto. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” he whispered closely into your ear. 

Your head shook, dismissing Logan. Having spent the past two years standing back and doing nothing, it was a now or never as to whether you were going to truly have Logan’s back. 

Logan smiled back to you as you looked across and met his eyes. “No one seems to be standing up for you these days, so that’s where I step in. I’m not going to stand back any longer, we’re not tied down to anyone anymore.” 

“I guess I’ve just gotten used to fighting for myself.” 

“You don’t have to look nice for Williams anymore,” you reminded him, “the only person you need to think about is you, that’s the only person I’m thinking about.” 

You felt guilty for taking so long to stand up for Logan but you never wanted to get in the way of his career. Now, you didn’t care, there was very little Williams could do soon, they didn’t have a hold over you like they once did. 

If they decided to post about your confrontation, you didn’t care.  Being posted about for protecting your boyfriend was never going to be a negative in your eyes, you were just wanting to show everyone else what they should have done for Logan too. 

“I don’t want them to forget how amazing you are Logan.” 

“I definitely don’t think you’ve let them do that,” Logan chuckled, kissing the top of your head once again. “Honestly, it just feels pretty cool to have finally had someone have my back, even if I’m not racing next year at least I’ll have you by my side to cheer me on.” 

In a way, you were glad to see Logan walking away from Williams, a team that had rarely bothered with Logan or showed him any support for such a considerable time. 

“You’ll be racing, somewhere, I’m sure of it,” you assured him. “The right time will come along, a team who see how brilliant you are and want to have your back too.” 

“Do you think a team will be able to handle the protective girlfriend that comes with signing a contract with me?” 

“As long as they help you and stick up for you, they won’t even know I’m there,” you laughed, “however if they treat you like nothing, I’m not going to stand back anymore.” 

Logan’s smile was wide as you spoke, his heart full knowing that you were there, even if no one else was, Logan could absolutely always count on you. 

“I’ll make sure to warn them,” Logan teased, nudging against your side. “They’ll probably make you sign a contract to make sure that you stay quiet.” 

If there was one thing you were definitely not going to do, it was stay quiet about Logan. You’d spent two years having to stand back out of the spotlight, but not this time around, wherever it was that Logan ended up going next. 

“Thank you for having my back today, well, every day. I love having you by my side and knowing that I’ve got you right there with me.” 

“I love you, I’ll always be there for you.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist

Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 2.

How....

How did this happen?

So fast....So absurdly fast.....

Did he know?

That you weren't like him, that you were his 'darling'?

You walked numbly back to your room after all that, holding Grim so tight that he had to scratch your arms three times to get you to release him while complaining about how you were suffocating him.

"Sorry." was all you could say when you released him from your hold. You stood lamely as you watched him crawl on his own four paws back into the safety of your room. It's not safe here, no where's safe.

You shut the door behind you and your hand shakes as you reach out to grab the chair, and a part of you just snaps.

You scramble to barricade your door. The dining chair wasn't enough. You shoved one of the end tables, your armchair and the small cabinet against the door until it couldn't move and the handle couldn't jimmy.

Still, you can't relax. You choke down deep breath after deep breath, and your lungs burn like you just ran a marathon.

All that looming terror finally collapsed in on you.

What do you do? "What do I do?" You whimper softly, you feel terrified. Ace is in your dorm, he's in love with you. And he's jealous of Grim because he's sleeping in your bed. Because you didn't want to sleep alone.

Wait. What if he tries to kill Grim!?

"Henchman?" Grim's all wrapped up in his blanket cocoon, but his cuteness doesn't make the fear waver. "Human....______ are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine, Grim." You babble, but it feels more like you're trying to tell that to yourself rather than Grim, "I'm okay. Really, I'm okay. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm just overreacting. Maybe he's just being nice. Maybe I'm losing my mind-" You keep spiralling, and you tremble violently as you hyperventilate.

How could this happen? Ace was the first person to actually meet you in this Twisted Wonderland. He'd seemed like a laidback enough guy that was just a little stupid. He didn't seem like an outright threat to your life. He was nice enough, was funny enough and he was someone you once wanted to be friends with.

And now your forehead burned.

The place his lips fell on your temple burned red-hot.

Your family had done that once. All you never minded it. But, now it felt dark. It felt threatening.

All you wanted to do was go home..."I just want to go home." You whisper as you sob.

What if you don't go home?

What if Ace brings you to his home, far from yours?

"_____?" Grim had managed to come into your vision. At some point in your spiralling, you'd sunk to the floor, on your knees. You could feel the echo of your violently palpitating heart in your ears. Tears had run down your cheeks, wet and sticky.

You embrace him as tightly as possible, hiccupping weakly. "I'm fine....I'm fine." You tuck your head into his fur. It's soft on your face.

"Are you sure?" his voice sounds so frail, as if your pain was being shared by him.

"No..." You say, and it's the first time you've been honest since you came in.

The adrenaline's worn off. You can feel the sharp jabbing in your thigh from a blade. Tiny drops of blood stain your bottoms. You tug it out of your waistband, hissing as it comes free.

"Why do you have a knife?"

"Just being safe, Grim." He doesn't push, maybe he senses your fear. "Let's....Let's just go to bed."

You set that bloodied knife underneath your pillow this time, just in case. And the just-in-case emergency was so much closer than you wanted. Grim doesn't squirm much in your embrace, but it's a small comfort to not be alone right now.

Though to be fair, even if he wasn't here, you probably aren't going to alone anymore now.

Sunshine comes through the cracks in the curtains and burns your eyes.

You didn't even notice that the sun came up. You feel so tired. So sleepy. Someone's knocking. So much knocking. So loud, so erratic. It makes the house echo.

Is it Ace again. The knocking stops.

"......"

"......"

Oh. Wait. It's not Ace. No, someone else is here.

You curl up tighter in your sheets, the exhaustion burning your eyes. It's just someone else. Someone else is here.

SOMEONE ELSE IS HERE?!?!?

You violently fling off your blanket, snatch the blade under your pillow , just in case and trip over your on feet as try too run and unbarricade your door. The mess and the noise mean nothing to you as you dash into the hallway, only to skid to a stop when you remember something.

Crowley had said that Darlings act a certain way, and you revealed yourself to him so fast. Was the way you normally acted what made you a darling? If that's the case then...

You walk backwards to one of the old, cracked mirrors in the hall. To be frank, you look like crap. Your eyes have heavy purple bags, and your eyes match in vivid red. Your skin looks pallid and swollen, with the tear tracks still visible on your skin, despite the tossing and turning you did last night.

You don't look fine.

But you need to be fine.

You attended a class about darlings yesterday, discovered how colossally fucked this world is and had Ace invade your personal space last night and, in the eyes of the yandere world out there, you have to be fine.

Because yanderes, in their collective insanity, are completely fine with all the awful things you discovered. They can't notice how afraid you are.

If that fear makes you a darling, you can't be afraid.

So you'll just take a deep breath, and relax, because you don't have the option of not being afraid.

You tighten your grip on the knife's handle and slowly take deep breaths.

You can hear the downstairs conversation better now.

Apparently, Deuce is the mystery guest in your foyer, if you're hearing his voice right. "You really are an idiot, Ace." No arguments there, Deuce.

"Oh, shut up! Like you're one to talk!" Ace objects, as you turn back to your room. You don't need those two people especially seeing you in your pyjamas today.

You re-enter your room to find Grim, tangled in your blankets on the floor. Whoops.

"Nyeh, Henchman, what gives?" A grumpy Grim pokes his head out of the mess of bedsheets.

"Sorry, Grim." You say as you untangle him, releasing him from the web of blankets. "I panicked and I may have overreacted."

Grumbling, Grim flops back down on the mass of sheets once he's free of them, going back to sleep immediately. You pet his fur, and the soft fur returns you to the safe spot you'd found last night.

But, you can't stay here forever, so you grab some of your clean clothes and get dressed.

You just have to keep your cool.

And you'll be okay, because you're not weak, or helpless, or fragile.

You're not a darling.

And you're not going to be anyone's darling.

But you also need to protect yourself.

And to do that you'll need allies. Friends. Who care genuinely and aren't obsessed with you. While it may be dumb, very, very dumb. The dorm leader of Heartslabyul might be your best bet when dealing with Ace and Deuce. What can two first-years do against someone that's a dorm head and has the ability to cut off their use of their magic.

You can only hope he isn't still mad at you about the entrance ceremony.

You have a plan, and all you need to do is follow it.

Go apologise the the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader.

Suck up to said Dorm Leader.

Befriend that Dorm Leader.

And Then Throw Ace and Deuce to The Metaphorical Wolves If They Try Anything.

Easy as pie.

Now if only you gave Grim that run down and had told him that you were trying to blend in.

"Move it! Outta the way! Night Raven College student comin' through!" Grim's confidently struts past 'The Seven' statues as if he owns the world. The students, milling around or walking past, separate for the overconfident cat monster to swagger like he's the most powerful mage in this Twister Wonderland.

So that brings attention to you which is already a little bad, given that you're already an alien student with no magic that crashed the entrance ceremony and destroyed a million thaumark chandelier, the added attention is worsened by the whole 'darling in disguise' problem.

Grim's loud mouth isn't just affecting you though. Grim's been loudly taunting Ace since you left Ramshackle. Which is a bit of poor choice given Ace's jealousy last night.

"Way to take the high road, Grim...." You mutter. You can see Ace's cheeks slightly flush from rage and embarrassment.

Ace growls, "Trust me Grim, when I get my magic back, your hide is first on the chopping block!" You can only hope that's a joke, or an empty threat.

"Didn't the headmaster JUST tell you yesterday, no more incidents...." Yes, thank you Deuce, a voice of reason that's not you is greatly appreciated.

"Juice, I am allowed to kill things here." Ace states, like it's completely obvious. You flinch, tightening your fists and repeating that mantra in your head. Be indifferent, like it's completely normal. Like Ace didn't just threaten Grim's life.

"I don't you'll be able to do anything with that silly collar around your neck." You say, with a small laugh. Ace flushes, hopefully from embarrassment from your FRIENDLY teasing.

You don't get to revel in that for long though. Your eyes drift to Deuce, who staring holes into Ace's head. His blue eyes hold the same ominous glint that Ace had in his when Grim had kept you apart.

"A-Anyway! You should go and apologise already, Ace!"

Is he eager to get your attention off Ace, or is it your imagination?

Ace's responding groan could probably be heard back in your home world, "I hate this so. So! Much! _____ Can't you just let me stay in your dorm already!?"

"No." You say as serious as possible. You aren't entertaining this at all, the sooner he's out of your dorm, the better.

Grim laughs, clearly enjoying Ace's misery, "Hey Henchman, let's go check out their dorm while Ace is groveling!"

"Since when did this become a field trip?!"

"What's wrong Ace, something you don't want me see~" You tease, and he shuts the hell up. You've noticed Ace never yells at you, but his temper's fraying with Grim. You mentally note never to leave the two alone.

Still, so far so good.

As terrifying as this experience has been in the last 24hrs, you have to admit it, this place is beautiful.

"Whoa..." The Heartslabyul dorm looks like the perfect mix of organised chaos. All the heart-inspired architecture feels cohesive rather than chaotic. From its doorways to its heart shaped rose bushes. It's beautiful, wonderous even.

But at the same time....

You feel so small, so insignificant outside of it. As if it dominates a controlling presence that wants to do nothing more than consume you. This is the dorm of controlling yanderes after all.

Either way, you can't afford to be lose focus right now. You're here on a mission, might as well accomplish it.

"Dang, this place is swank! This is nothing like our dumpster of a dorm." Gee, thanks Grim....Only one of us has thumbs.

"Our dorm is a work-in-progress!" You object.

"Alright let's get this over with, c'mon _____." Right, now all you need to do is find the Dorm Leader and-

"Wait. Why are is the Prefect going with you to see the Dorm Head?" Deuce asks, and the glint is back. Dark and dangerous. Shit. Right you hadn't told Deuce about that part.

Ace grins triumphantly in response, "She said she would go with me. Why? Jealous, Juice?"

Deuce flushes but that glint gets darker. "I'm not jealous!"

Ace keeps pushing it, refusing to back down. "It kinda seems like you are!"

If they're going to fight it's probably best you leave. As much as you care about them, getting their Dorm Leader on your side is your biggest concern. And you won't find him just standing here. But where do you-

You can hear a familiar tune in your ears. Someone's humming.

You can hear someone humming something. A tune all too familiar to the one you heard last night in your dream.

Unlike last time, you scoop up Grim for a defense just in case. The dorm is full of rose bushes, it will go down in flames if your plan goes up in them.

The path inside the bushes isn't one leading to a garden, but a rose maze. High edges decorated with rose bushes or potted rose plants, with red cans of paint and paintbrushes scattered here and there. The maze reminds you of your dream last night, from the soft grass to the half painted white roses. The smell of fresh paint in the maze overpowers the sweet smell of the roses. Some drops of paint drip of the fragile rose petals, staining the grass.

The humming is getting louder, and you turn a corner when the song is interrupted when the singer stops to comment on his work, "Aww yeah, I am getting my paint on!"

You finally reach a break in the bushes, where the rose bushes part to reveal an area partially decorated. Crates of decorations are stacked meticulously in what has to be the most orderly way possible. The corners line up near exactly. Streamers and garlands are already pre hung and if it wasn't for the scattered croquet poles in the ground you wouldn't have known what it was for.

"Ah, someone's here." Grim says.

Grim's right, there's an orange-haired man with a diamond shaped mark, just under one of his eyes. He's using one of those magic pens to change the colour of the roses from an ivory white to a deep and bright red. He doesn't seem to notice you, too occupied with the roses.

"They all gotta be red, or it's 'off with my head'!"

Whoa, Deja vu.

His song...it's tune nearly matches the one you heard last night, in your dream. He's painting the white roses a bright red. How did you dream something so similar? They say life imitates art, but since when did you dream the future.

"Hey Prefect, why'd you leave?" It's Ace's loud voice that gets the rose-painter to turn. So far you met, an ace of hearts, a deuce of spades, and now a diamond, if the ink on his face is right.

"Huh...? You guys need something?"

"What exactly are you doing here?" You ask, this is way too similar, near identical.

He laughs, "Are you blind?" He teases, "I'm painting these roses red, duh."

Ace and Deuce are surprised, but you aren’t, "What? Why?"

'The Queen loves red roses, and I planted white ones by mistake, so I'm painting the roses red' That's what he's doing. The same thing the card soldiers did in your dream.

The diamond laughs, "So naive, you put the "n" in newb." He stops mid laugh as his eyes light up in recognition, "Hold the phone, I know you! You're the ones who broke a billion-thaumark chandelier and nearly got expelled for it, yeah?" You swallow back a sigh of relief at the mention of the chandelier rather than the other thing.

"That chandelier is gonna haunt us till the day we graduate, isn't it?" You disagree, one day this entire experience is going to be used as a lovely example to the kids you'll maybe have about why you shouldn't go into strange carriages in the middle of the night.

"And you!" You jolt as he points again, and nearly collapse in relief when you see that his finger is pointing at Ace. "You're the one who ate the Dorm Leader's tart that same night!"

"You guys are THE hot topic around campus! I've gotta get in on this fleeting fame." He advances phone in hand, hooks an arm around you in particular, dragging the two of you into the dead center of the camera's eye. " I'm just gonna grab a selfie real quick..."

"W-Wait a sec-" you try to object, but he doesn't pay heed to your objections.

"Say 'Yay!'" You hope for once in your life that was the most unattractive photo you've ever taken, the last thing you need is a school full of yanderes chasing after you.

"It's cool if I post this on Magicam, right? Gimme your names so I can tag you."

Well, now you have an issue. You can't-

"I'm Deuce Spade."

"Ace."

"I'm Grim, and that's my henchman, _____."

Geez, thanks guys. As you were originally thinking, you can't, or rather couldn't, give out your name because if your face and name are plastered out for all the yanderes on this island to see you could be put in grave danger should they try to claim you. But that's not something you get to contemplate now. Yay....

"Uploaded! Sweet."

Is he not going to introduce himself? So far, your first impression was that he was a selfie fanatic, but otherwise he seems harmless. Except for the incredibly fast boundary crossing.

As if reading your mind, he answers your thoughts. "Oh, I'm Cater Diamond, by the way." The four of diamonds, so now you had an ace of hearts, deuce of spades, and the four of diamonds. Now all that you needed was a three of clovers. "I'm a junior here at Heartslabyul. But Cater is fine. Or Cay-Cay if you're cray-cray! So nice to meetcha." His one armed hug finally releases, and you brush yourself off.

Wow, he seems.......superficial. "It's a pleasure." You lie.

"Ah, you're the prefect of that so-called Ramshackle House dorm, right? Like, I can't believe you actually live there! It's all gloomy and looks like hot garbage on Magicam. No filter could salvage THAT dump." Wow. Rub salt in the wound. This relationship is off to a great start.

Maybe this is a good thing. If he's being kind of mean, maybe he doesn't have feelings for you. That's good.

"Y'know, you've done nothin' but diss us here, pal!" Normally, you would agree with Grim but if this is his normal way of acting then you are in the clear.

For some reason that statement makes Cater flip like a coin. "Gah, what am I doing? I don't have time to chat!"

While you would prefer not to hang out around this guy, the 'allies and friendships plan' requires you being around people who are not Ace and Deuce. "What's wrong."

"The party's tomorrow. If we're not ready, it's "off with my head!" Well that explains all the party decorations. And considering he's here by himself no wonder he's stressed. "Hey, you kids wanna help me paint some roses?"

"Yeah, uh.....Why are you doing that exactly?"

"Because red roses are so much more photogenic! Or.....something...?" Is he trying to get you to do this for him? That's what this feels like. As if pushing for sympathy, Cater proceeds to list off all the tasks he has to do for the party.

Helping him out might be to your benefit. What better way to endear yourself PLATONICALLY to someone than to do kind things like helping him and his dorm out when you're under no obligation.

Thus working into your plan. Let's do this

"Again with the questions!" You're thrown out of your plotting when you hear Cater's objection, Listen, I need these roses to be red. Like, yesterday. Can't you guys help out with magic or something?"

"I can help you." You smile while raising your hand, they all turn your attention to you and you can see that brightness return to Ace and Deuce's eyes. Still, you can't pay attention to that now. "I-I don't have magic but I can help by doing it the old-fashioned way."

"You wanna help me? TYSM!" Cater tackle-hugs you, squeezing you tight and lifting you off your feet. You laugh, and you spare a glance at the two now raging jealous duo you call friends.

"Guys? You wanna help me out? I'll-" You contemplate your words, "I'll owe you one." The idea of manipulating them into your scheme makes you feel a little guilty, besides they probably didn't-

"SURE!" They didn't even hesitate.

"Oh, but Ace is on magical house arrest and _____ is a total normie, so you two better stick to paint."

"Recolor the roses with magic..." Deuce contemplates uneasy, but he doesn't refuse. Was it because you asked him, or the IOU. Maybe that gamble will bite you in the ass later.

"Relax, it'll be fine. You got this! But maybe do it before I lose my head? K-thanx."

And so that's what you did.

Or rather, what you and Ace did. Deuce and Grim are struggling a little, but Cater tries to help guide them. With limited success.

Deuce's attempts at casting the roses red cause those pale roses to change to every colour of the rainbow instead of red, or one of its otherwise named shades.

Grim was even worse off, as he burned the roses with every cast spell. He ends up stamping out the flames in a panic as he tries to keep the hedges and rose bushes from burning down all around you.

Ace is grumbling about having to paint without magic, destroying some of the rose blossoms in the progress.

You on the other hand fly through each of the huge roses pretty quickly, once you get the hang of it. The roses are fragile, and the brush needs to be angled correctly to prevent the flowers from being destroyed, but you get the hang of it. You lean down to paint another of the comically large roses.....

......When feel a hand brush your ear, and push something smooth behind it.

You jolt upwards. Looking back and forth for any sign of...."Cater?"

Cater pushes a finger against your lips, mirroring it with his own with a shushing sound. A cheeky smile on his lips. You reach up to touch the object he'd slipped behind your ears and feel...petals.

You blink as you pry it loss. And Cater's gone when you open your eyes.

In fact, he's back over where he's directing Deuce like nothing's ever happened.

Cater couldn't have vanished in the second you blinked and got all the way over to the rose bushes on the other side of the croquet arena. How exactly did he do that?

You shake your head, turning your attention to the gift. It's a rose. A beautiful, fragile white rose painted red by paint splatters. It's far from perfect, the different sized splatters are haphazard, but it feels more beautiful that one that was perfect.

But the red splatters also remind you of blood. Like blood sprayed onto a canvas. Still, the paint smells of paint, and you quite literally just meet Cater. The rose is just flirtation. Probably.

Still, you aren't here for love.

You crumple the beautifully painted blossom in between your two hands. The red paint flaking off and the white petals bruising. It was a nice gesture, really. But you can't accept it.

"All your rules are completely insane!" Grim complains loud enough to pull you out of your stupor. You do your best to scatter and hide the crumpled petals in the grass, before rejoining the others as Cater explains.

"They say the Queen of hearts made up these rules herself-she was one of the Great Seven, you know."

"Yeah, I read about them..." And about how the rules nearly drove the King of Hearts as mad as the Mad Hatter, why a dorm would want to.....Nevermind, this world is full of crazy people, why waste your time. "Her rules and traditions are maddening."

"And Riddle is all about tradition. Probably more than previous Dorm Leaders, TBH. He's a bit...well...extra."

"Yeah, no kidding! I don't have time for this nonsense. Is Riddle here? I gotta talk to him."

"Yeah, probably." Great, now let's just- "But are you sure that's wise? did you even bring an apology tart to replace the one you ate?" What?

"Uh, no.....? I came here first thing this morning."

"Ah. Ah. Ah....That could be a problem." No, no. Please don't say that they were strings attached.

"What's wrong?" You ask. You skimmed over the first two dozen rules of the Heartslabyul dorm, before realizing you didn't have time for that and moving on to Savanaclaw. You hope it wasn't important, you really don't want Ace to stay in your dorm tonight.

"Have you forgotten rule 53? 'Stolen items must be replaced.' If you're not in compliance, I can't let you in."

"You've gotta be kidding me." You object. If Ace can't apologise to Riddle, then you won't be able to sleep or feel safe in your own dorm. And the longer he stays mad at Ace, then the longer he'll be alone with you in your dorm.

"Are you serious?!"

"All dorm residents must obey the rules. If I let you slide, it would be off with my head next." Just how strict is this dorm?!

"Can't you make an exception?" You practically beg. Maybe you should have onto that rose, then you could have used it against him or something. Damn it.

Cater shakes his head. "I hate to say it, Ace, but I'm gonna need to leave before Riddle spots you. Thanx."

After Ace and Deuce got their asses kicked, Cater was kind enough to remind you of what was going to keep Ace in your dorm for another painstaking night. "Do make sure you bring that tart next time, m'kay. Buh-bye now!"

He pushes all of you out of the rose maze, but his grip lingers on you for a moment. Cater leans into your ear, "BTW, don't destroy someone's gift right in front of them, darling~" he whispers, before releasing you and vanishing into the maze again.

You'd felt your heart stop. How? How did he find out? You acted as normal as possible and you just met! Was that a test?! Had you failed?!

Ace, Deuce and Grim are debating their loss and licking their wounds. But you can't find it within yourself to care. Why did this keep happening? You didn't even do anything wrong!?

But that's what keep happening, isn't it? You do everything right but you still get punished for it! Were you just doing something wrong this whole time?!

Is there something you're not doing?

"...!" Deuce's noise of surprise knocks you out of your thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask, but your mind is still elsewhere.

Whatever they you can't here, the blood still roaring in your ears. But Deuce grabs your arm and all of you run to the hall of mirrors.

Deuce looks back once to give you a small smile, and that light in his eyes is there. The light of his infatuation, that blinds him from your pain but when you think about it....

Now that you think about it, Deuce, outside of the jealousy he shows you when Ace provokes him, is pretty calm most of the time. Is it possible to use that to aid yourself? To take advantage of that to your benefit? You did need allies, after all.

Is it cold to take advantage of someone? Yes, but if things get bad, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Besides, wouldn't he do that to you?

[nightwngz]

— 𝓐 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ✮!! eng.

fratboy!wally west x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble, porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . A friend of mine gave me the idea for this, so I said, 'Okay, this sounds good,' and decided to write it. I hope you like it.

Since you started university, you’ve always been part of the crowd. You never cared about being popular or standing out in class; you just wanted to get by like everyone else. You made an effort to fit in without drawing attention, avoiding conflict and focusing on passing with just enough.

Being part of the university meant interacting with certain people, even those you weren't particularly interested in but had to tolerate. Like the popular guys from a fraternity whose name you couldn’t quite remember, led by Richard Grayson and Wallace West—better known to their friends as Dick and Wally—or those slightly higher on the social ladder than you.

Dick Grayson was friendly, and his appearance clearly explained why he was so popular. He was also sweet and kind, so much so that if one of your friends asked you directly, you'd probably admit to having a crush on him. Wally, on the other hand, was a different story. Although he was funny and somewhat charming, and also popular because he was Dick's best friend, he didn't appeal to you as much. In fact, there were times when he would shamelessly try to flirt with you, but you would just respond with a gesture before completely ignoring him.

Conveniently, no matter how hard you tried to stay away from Wally, he always found a way to cross your path. Like the day you were sitting with Timothy Drake in the cafeteria when Dick Grayson came over to say hello to his brother. Wally seized the opportunity, walked up, grabbed Dick by the shoulders, and wasted no time flirting with you.

— Don't worry, babe. If you don't understand anatomy, I can give you a lesson or two.

You don't know what part of you thought it was a good idea to have Wally help you study. But you didn't realize how bad it was until the books fell off the bed where you were supposed to be studying and his face literally ended up between your legs.

You had never been with someone with such fast skills, so to speak. It was like being with The Flash himself. His tongue moved quickly over your wet pussy, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

His tongue glided over your lips, tracing them from top to bottom, while his greenish gaze was fixed on yours. With one hand he helped you to spread your legs wider and with the other he filled your tight hole completely with two of his fingers. Then, growing restless, he moved to your clit, where he began to give you sweet, teasing licks. His mouth moved so quickly between your clit and your lips that it seemed he was caressing both at the same time.

And when you arched your back, with moans so intense that Wally was sure they could be heard in the hallway, he knew you would climax any moment, for the third time that night, with minimal effort on his part. It hadn’t even taken him more than five minutes.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached your climax, and a wave of pleasure swept through your entire body. As you gasped, you watched as Wally pulled away from between your legs, a mischievous smile on his face. He looked beautiful, his mouth smeared with your fluids, and maybe that's why you didn't ask him to clean up.

— Damn, babe, that was so good. After what comes next, you'll be so dazed that the only name you'll remember from these books will be "Wally”.

You looked at him with wide eyes, confused by what he meant by 'after what comes next.' Hadn’t it ended? You wondered if you could handle more, given that you had already had more than you could bear.

— Oh, what? Did you think that was it? Unfortunately for you, we're not done yet. And I have enough stamina to fuck you for hours.

[moodymisty]

Author's note: I love him

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, A man jerkin it, Gross descriptors of Mortarion's body, Pervert Morty and his hot wife the prequel

The lights hit your skin so beautifully.

The dark purple fabric of your dress wrapped around you in an embrace, flowing onto the floor like water in a glittering stream. The color was a dusty, deep purple, much like his cape- But while yours was by design, his was ragged and washed out from years of overuse.

The way it wrapped around your shoulders, down your arms around your delicate wrists; how when you walk, it pulls away to reveal the ever so slight amount of skin just above your heel. Dresses were exceeding rare on Barbarus, and underneath were usually further layers to protect the skin. To see your naked body underneath such thin fabric had made his eyes widen- instinctually thinking that it was dangerous, he felt sickly and perverted to gaze so openly- as you casually walked around to chatter with other baselines.

When you'd turned away from him and revealed the open back of your dress, revealing your shoulderblades all the way down to the small of your back, he had just about choked.

If Mortarion had been a different primarch, you might as well have walked up to him and flashed your tits right at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth for good measure.

He left moments after that. You probably didn't even notice, which was for the best. He was better off slipping away unknown to take a moment for himself.

Funny- he hated the remembrancers at first. They seemed pointless at best and actively frustrating at worst, but the other primarchs had insisted he allow them aboard The Endurance. For documentstion, Fulgrim had said. To etch his legion's deeds into history.

Who cares. He and his legion do what needs to be done. History is unimportant.

One by one they slowly left the Death Guard, but you remained; With no signs of abandoning him departing.

Ever so diligent, quiet, and demure, you always did your work- sometimes even with a smile- watching his legion conduct their duties. Sometimes you would even indulge his lackluster and embarrasingyly necrosed conversational skills, showing no reaction other than interest and this odd, soft expression he had no word for.

You wouldn't want him.

He looks down at his body once in the safety of his Terran bedchambers- the way his skin is pallid and sickly, the scars. His nails are chipped, his hair is limp and grey. The clothes he wears are from Barbarus; Old, torn, stained and filthy. Dependable and still useful. But why now does he suddenly want to change them?

His bed groans under his weight as he sits on it, looking down at his thighs. He knows they're scarred underneath his trousers, a bit wider than they were when he was on Barbarus.

His nose curls, his breaths deepen. He's angry- but why?

He takes a deep breath filling his chest and rips off his respirator in one fell swoop, before letting out a sick cough that rips through his lungs like hellfire. He feels the palm covering his mouth get wet, groaning and tensing his neck to try and control the fit.

He then looks to the singular mirror- sees the way the skin around his mouth is dry and discolored, the dark circles under his eyes, before turning his entire back to it.

He throws the respirator to the floor and watches it roll across the marble before skidding to a stop. It feels satisfying, in a pointlessly vindicating way.

The next few breaths he takes are ragged and full of sticky phlem. It racks his body and when he can't stop another cough, he feels the painful jolt of a rib popping. Spittle strings from his mouth to his hand, it tinted blood red ever so slightly.

'Where did you get such attire.'

Mortarion watched confusion bloom across your face, your lips shifting in an erotic dance. They part with the softest little pop. The skin of your cheeks looks so smooth.

'Oh, when I was given as your remembrancer, I was assigned an appropriate wardrobe, formal attire included.'

He felt disgusting, looking down at your bare skin. Almost your entire collarbone was visible, your shoulders, your fingers, your ankles, your wrists, your back- by the throne your back, he felt like some sort of slathering beast barely holding himself together. You looked so soft and you displayed it so openly- so wantonly! On Barbarus, you were lucky to see another's eyes. To see this much was... A fantasy.

His respirator discarded on the floor like rubbish Mortarion moves to undo the fastenings of his trousers, feeling the heavy heat of his cock. The first touch of him pulling it out at attention has him hissing, it nearly painful. He has to start with gentle touches- he knows you would do that if you weren't revolted by him- to build himself up to wrapping his entire fist around his cock. Once he manages it, even the dry scarred skin of his palm still feels otherworldly compared to just rubbing himself through his clothes.

Would you kiss him? Would you risk the poison of his breath and the sickly pallor of his skin? Would you let him mouth at your bare skin, feeling the warmth of your body under his lips?

Probably not. But he abandons the self declaration of him being a disgusting, cowardly pervert to imagine you would.

His cockhead throbs and aches, leaking precum that slicks his hand and shaft as he fists his cock. He hasn't done this in years, touch himself. He never had the need to- the desire to. Until you. Now he feels like he's rubbing himself raw almost daily.

He lets out a louder groan, one that vibrates his throat and nearly sends him into another coughing fit as he strokes himself faster. His lower stomach tenses and his cock twitches in his tight grip, angry, ragged breaths coming out of his nose.

Would you let him show you what you do to him? Would you show him more skin that you do shockingly showed him already? If you were from Barbarus, showing that much of your body would be the absolute height of intimacy.

By the throne, would you do all of that he's imagined and tell him you wanted more? That you wanted him? Would your allow your body to get defiled ruined stained corrupted poisoned touched by him, wantonly begging for more underneath him laying there like a beautiful painting while he falls apart before you?

He's so enthralled by the idea of kissing you, touching you-

Watching you undress-

He barely has a hold over himself. He fists his cock rough feeling his finish coming closer and closer, teeth gnashing. His cock twitches against as his stomach gets tighter, whenever his fingers brush against his cockhead he lets out the most pathetic, overwhelmed groan.

The idea of you touching him has him leaking in his fist, of the hand wrapped around his cock being your smaller ones and not his own.

The thought of actually being able to sink his cock into the tight, wet heat between your legs, of you moaning for him to ruin you more, to make him the only one that could bring you pleasure, has his body tightening up and he lets out a shaky, pathetic cry, coming all over his hand and onto the floor. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed until he opened them, looking at his own mess.

His cock twitches in little aftershocks, and despite the feeling that he could possibly go again, he takes a few deep breaths and rises to his feet. He fixes his half soft cock back into his trousers and sullies himself as to clean up his mess on the floor- the embarrassment of having another do so would ruin him- before returning to the small formal event he left behind.

He finds you moments after entering, as if by fate. You're standing alone, outcast by the other remembrancers.

They all fail to compare to you anyhow. They pale in comparison to your smarts and your beauty, a jewel among a legion of rot.

You are his remembrancer.

When he walks up to you, your face changes in a way that confuses him. You smile, giving the tactful bow he expects of you, though it isn't needed.

"I see you've returned," You say, adjusting the front of your dress. "Do you need something of me, Lord Mortarion?"

Mortarion watches the way your lips curl around your teeth, the way on some letters your tongue moves barely visible behind your lips. The way his name leaves your mouth sends another jolt to his already abused cock; By the Throne, he should just force it down your throat for what you do to him.

He grunts, looking down at you. You're waiting expectantly.

You wouldn't want him.

"No."

[loveforeren]

This was js a little drabble I found in my notes it's Jealous? Miguel x bratty reader? Yeah

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Peter and you were talking to tell you a joke, and you laughed doubling over. You knew Miguel had his eyes on you ever since the rumor went around about you and Peter flirting even though Peter was completely in love with MJ. If you were being honest you were flirting with almost everyone except Peter. You continue to giggle as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder, and that is Miguel's last straw. Jess came to you and tapped your shoulder

"Hey...Miguel wants you in his office hurry he seems upset.." Jess says with annoyance dripping from her voice, showing she wasn't in the mood for his anger when she was pregnant.

You nod and skip down to his office knowing what was to come. You walk in with a huge grin on your face. "You called me Miggy!" You say trying to keep your mischievous giggle in.

He glares. You know that glare all too well. You watch as his platform descends to the ground.

"Come here now." He practically growls. His voice was laced with anger.

A shiver ran down your back. You could hardly wait. You waltz over to him innocently with a grin.

"Yes~ Miggy." You say still trying to keep your composure.

Seconds later you feel his hand grip your cheeks and squish them harshly. You could feel the anger seething off of him. His eyes were red and a animal-like growl could be heard.

"Don't give me that Miggy shit. Wanna explain why you've been all over multiple other spiders for the past week." He Snarled

"You've been cooped up in here for a week in this room. I was horny so I was trying to find ways or rather other men pleasure me." You mumbled due to your cheeks being squished harshly. It was a joke, but Miguel being your boyfriend didn't find it funny.

You may have been mumbling but he understood every single word that left you mouth. You watch his face as his eyebrows furrow farther than they already were. Before you could react you react you were bent over one of the panels on his platform.

"So you were being a slut." He hissed his hand on the back of your neck holding you down. This still wasn't enough for you. You wanted to be destroyed by his dick.

"Hmm~ maybe?" You say laughing.

That did it. You made him snap. You feel his tear through the bottom of your spider suit with his talon. He'll make you a new one..probably?

"You want to be a slut? I treat you like one fucking whore." He spat out his words harshly.

You feel his finger move between your slick folds before he sticks two fingers into you with no warning and roughly. You yelp from both the pleasure in pain.

"Of course a little whore like you likes this I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You won't want anyone else's fucking cock." He Snarled

His fingers are going in and out of your throbbing hole roughly with every thrust you felt your body jolt forward. You are a moaning mess at this point.

"Miguel- R-right ah- Oh God right there." You mewl out in desperation.

Just as you were about you reach your high you feel his fingers stop. You whine at the halt in movement.

"Miggy please?" You beg eyes welling up with tears

"Fucking sluts like you don't deserve it." He hissed.

You watched as the bottom part of his suit disappeared. You had heard from Lyla that he went commando under it but you didn't believe it until now. He hits your ass the stinging sensation causes the tears in your eyes to spill. Your ass was stinging and you felt another slap.

"You like the pain don't you fucking whore." He said his eyes locked on to your now tear-stained face

he grabs a hold of your waist and slams into you with no warning. It took everything in you to not scream. He was mercilessly pounding into you. You could feel his talons coming out as he gripped your waist.

"Fuck whore. You like it rough." He Snarled snapping his hips back and pounding into you.

You were too cock drunk to even reply. Sobbing and hollering loudly was all you could manage to get out.

"Hmm? I'm here fucking your brains out dirty slut, and you want another man's dick? " He questioned his hips still snapping back and forth penetrating your body. You were too cock drunk to pay attention he grabbed your face and asks again

"Do you want another man's cock." It was more of a statement than in question in the firm way he asked.

"No..no I don't want anyone but you Miggy" you mewl. If someone didn't know any better they'd say they see the heart shapes in your eyes.

Miguel continues to pound into you "What if I fill you up? What if I fill that womb up? Hmm? Make you all big and swollen with my baby then you're stuck with me." He says between thrusts. "You wanna me to fill you up? Hm." He speaking nonsense at this point.

You feel a knot in your stomach and you groaned "Miggy can I come? Can I please come?"

Miguel laughs in a mocking way "Are you going to be a good whore for me? Are you going to be mine and mine only?" He asks firmly

"Yes! Yes, I promise Miggy!" You squirmed and yell.

"Go ahead." He whispered in your ear.

Miguel fucks you through your high not switching up his pace, but after a few more thrusts he came.

You feel your entire lower body be filled with his seed.

He leans over on you with a softer gaze as you caught your breath he had finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "Am I not paying enough attention to you?" He asked with a bit of concern.

You sigh "I know you're busy. Protecting the spiderverse."

He chuckled "The arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse, but yes its a lot of work."

You sigh.

"But not as important as you I'll work it. Not working as much so we can be together more okay?" He smiled kissing your forehead.

You smile nodding. "Okay! I'm gonna hold you to that Miggy."

(A/N) I'm with my family rn so it's hard to write because yk...I'm writing smut. I'll try to post again very very soon. I have like little a drabble and a Kokushibo fanfic that will be multiple parts in the works. Along with like 5 more Miguel fics and angst Eren fic and a Jean fic and I don't even at this point. My hashtag is #loveforeren its should be right at the top and that has all my posted writing and my masterlist is pinned with rules for for request.

[greg-montgomery]

hi! i’m not sure if you’re still taking requests, but i love your writing and your page!

i have a nsfw request and you can totally say no or not do it, but i rly just wanna see someone write it!

so like y/n is super sweet and kind at work at the bau, and everyone expects her to be super innocent since she’s almost the youngest out of all of them, but one night she ends up at hitch’s hotel room during a case because she’s stressed and her and hotch kind of have something between them (like they both rly want each other but won’t say anything, the whole team knows)

anyways, they like get down to it (idfk 😭), and she’s the complete opposite of what he expects, and it kind of surprises him because she seems so innocent and it rly turns him on (that sounds weird idk but YOU GET IT 😭😭).

anyways, i rly hope u write it but don’t feel obligated to if you don’t want to, love! also i think it would be rly funny if she’s caught rly early in the morning sneaking out of his room and a few ppl from the team catch her sneaking out!

maybe like softdom!hotch? idk 😭 SORRY IVE NEVER MADE A REQUEST

ANYWAYS. i love your writing so much! hope you have an amazing day love!

- 🎃

hii!! i hope you have an amazing day too <3 i love you!

nsfw - 18+ minors dni!!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“And I was screaming at him. If I hadn’t woken up the next second, I would have probably attacked him physically.”

Hotch chuckled at your words as he took a seat right next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t laugh! This is serious, am I going crazy?”

“No, you aren’t,” he said, and gently placed his hand on your thigh in an attempt to calm you down. “I’ve also had dreams about unsubs, it’s normal. You were probably affected because you had talked to the victim just a few hours before he killed her.”

He knew you were worried, but he couldn’t help but notice that you were biting your bottom lip that same way that always drove him crazy. It was so hard being around you; in his hotel room, all alone, with the scent of your perfume clouding his judgment.

“Okay. Maybe I’m overthinking it,” you said, and he caught you staring at his hand on you. If there was any indication of you being uncomfortable he would have never put it there in the first place. But he could see the look on your face; you liked it.

So he kept it there.

Your eyes travelled from his hand to his eyes. God, you were so beautiful, all he wanted to do was lay you down on that bed and take you until you were screaming his name.

The way you were staring at him made him wonder if you could read his thoughts. You were a profiler after all.

“Thanks for the advice,” you said. “You’re a wise old man.”

“That’s David.”

Nothing gave him the same level of satisfaction making you laugh did. During those moments you were almost his.

“Right, sorry,” you giggled.

There was that same look again. You were biting your lips, bit this time it wasn’t out of nervousness; you were trying to contain your laughter.

Hotch didn’t know where he found the courage, but he removed his hand from your thigh and brought it to your face, running his thumb over your mouth. “I love it when you play with your lips.”

You silently blinked at him for a moment, and for that moment Aaron forgot how to breathe. He only obtained the ability to breathe again for a second, before you took it away by opening your mouth and licking the pad of his finger.

The sight and the feeling of your tongue on him made his dick twitch.

You sucked on it slowly, your eyes never leaving his. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine your mouth was on a different part of his body, as you swirled your tongue around his fingertip.

Who would have thought?

He removed his finger from your mouth and while it was still wet from your saliva, he grabbed your face and dragged you close to him.

“What kind of behavior is this? And in front of your boss? I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his nose touching yours.

“I am.”

He could argue, but he’d rather kiss you instead. So he did.

Your little sighs in the middle of the kiss were already driving him insane - he couldn’t even imagine how you’d sound when his hand would find its way between your thighs.

Soon you were on his lap, straddling him, and he pulled away to take your top off. You were eager for another kiss, but he had to take a moment to admire the way your breasts looked covered in that beautiful black lace.

He pulled the left side of your bra down just enough to release your nipple. He played with it with his fingers, making it hard and once it was ready he replaced his hand with his mouth.

The pretty moans that were coming out of your mouth made him even more eager, so he grabbed you by the hips and pushed you down to grind on his cock even harder. You were the most angelic thing he had ever seen, but all he wanted to do was destroy you.

Before he had the chance to think of his next move, you got off his lap with a grin and took of your shoes and jeans.

“Lie down,” you said.

“Who am I to say no to you?”

You crawled on the bed, but didn’t come up to him like he expected. Instead you kneeled between his legs and started unbuckling his belt.

He was painfully hard already and he was counting down the minutes he would finally be in your hands.

Your smirk when you saw his released cock went straight to his ego. And he couldn’t wait to see you full of it.

The way you positioned yourself in all fours, and licked his length while making eye contact with him, looked like it came out of a porno movie.

Your ass looked delicious; the fabric of your panties almost non-existent making him wish he could reach it and give you a few spanks.

“Fuck…”

It was sloppy; one moment you were licking his dick from bottom to top, and the other your hand was wrapped around it while your tongue was swirling around the tip. And it was perfect.

“Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good at it, baby, you’re so good,” he said, his hand pushing the back of your head so you could suck him deeper.

You cupped his balls and smirked at the way he moaned. You were enjoying it, maybe as much as he was.

“You like it, baby?”

You nodded, and closed your eyes moving your tongue in a torturous pace.

“You know what I like?”

At his question your eyes opened again, and you shook your head.

Aaron signaled you to go up to him for a moment, and grabbed your chin with two of his fingers to maintain the eye contact.

“I like that you’re all shy,” he said and paused to give you a kiss. “Quiet.” Another kiss. “Innocent, in front of others. But with me…you show me what a little slut you are. Just for me.”

Your smile would be the end of him.

“Just for you,” you repeated his words and kissed him before moving between his legs again.

“Spit on it,” he said. “Make it messy, baby, I wanna see you drool.”

You did as he said. He didn’t know where to focus, at your ass, the way your tits were hanging, or your mouth that was doing devilishly things to him.

Finally, he wasn’t looking at anything at all, with his eyes closed, cumming right into your mouth.