#enhanced senses yes… strength ? yes …

[fortifice]

oh god I’m having vampire / monster hunter au thoughts again.

the landau having done “dangerous” experimentations with utilising diluted / mixed blood of the monsters they hunt as strength enhancements. very measured doses but also does come with a number of negative side effects. this is one of the reasons his father is eager to have him bring serval back because both of them are essential subjects to this trial and error process.

[eternalsunrise]

home, sweet home.

wolverine (logan howlett) x f!reader

wc: 980 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, no actual smut but super suggestive and gets graphic toward the end

notes! horny . but also v sweet. i pictured origins logan while writing this 💋

“if you keep moving i’m going to start slicing you up on purpose” your threat is empty, wrist away from his face completely, razor pointed the opposite direction. even with his regenerative abilities, you don’t want to hurt him, even if it’s just an accidental cut on his jaw.

logan was fully capable of doing this himself. after all, he’d been shaving his own face for decades upon decades. but there was no way he was going to pass up this opportunity.

he came through the front door after a two week long mission, scruffier than he was when he left. his mutton chops curling up at the tips of his jawline, mustache just long enough to tickle your face. he’d forgotten to pack his razor, and he’d rather use his own claws than use scott’s, or even worse, hank’s.

you were on him as soon as he walked in, leeched to his body, your hands everywhere. it had been too long since the wolverine breathed you in like this, his enhanced senses overstimulated in the best way. you ran your hand over his scratchy cheek, inquiring about his new look. he told you he was planning on cleaning it up but was exhausted. that’s when you offered.

now he’s sat on the toliet seat, and maybe he’s enjoying the view of you on his lap a little too much. he lifted his hips, bouncing you lightly on his legs.

“hm. relax princess, jus’ adjusting.” logan gives you a teasing smile, basking in the bliss he only feels in your presence. your eyes narrow in faux disdain, it’s hard to be frustrated at a guy with shaving cream covering his face. you grab one of his feline quips of hair, using it to tilt his head to finish the task at hand.

“i’m going with you next time, i can’t have you walking around like a caveman.” i missed you more than i can say.

ever the man, the image of you in an x-men suit pops into his brain, the leather hugging your body just right. the thought brings a smirk to his face, but it fades when he hears your sigh. right, no moving.

“yes ma’am. i’ll call the professor and let him know.” i missed you too. felt like i was never going to come back to you.

you lean your body over to rinse the razor off in the sink, logan’s large hands on your thighs keeping you steady. the metal clinks against the porcelain of the sink, shaving cream and dark hair going down the drain.

when you look back, you see your boyfriend in place of the lumberjack that walked in earlier. still scruffy and masculine, after all he is still the wolverine.

logan lifts his hips again, shifting backwards and forcing you to fall against him, razor clattering out of your hand. “whoops” his deep voice carries no sympathy, chocolate eyes locking with yours, giving you that love struck look that makes your stomach turn. the kind of look he saves just for you.

your chests are touching, the closeness sets your whole body ablaze. it’s been too long since you’ve got to soak him up like this. the smell of him makes your head swim; leather, cheap cigar smoke, and that cologne you bought him a few months back.

logan sneaks his hands under his brown flannel button up you’re wearing, delighted to be met by the bare skin of your hips. the metal of his belt buckle is cold against the bottom of your stomach, causing a gasp to leave you.

as he admires you now; sitting pretty in his lap in only his shirt, logan wonders how he had the strength to leave you in the first place.

hands wander over his freshly shaved face, stubble like soft needles against your fingertips. your head has a mind of its own, and suddenly your lips are brushing his. once. twice. a third time. soft and slow.

there’s something new in the air now. your heart is pounding, and you wonder if he can feel it beating through your chest and into his own. there’s a split second of silent eye contact before logan lurches forward.

there’s hunger behind his kiss. a certain lust behind his tongue making its way to yours. your hips swivel in search of friction. hands tangled in his hair, pulling in a way that’s so familiar it makes logan groan into your mouth; already aware of what tonight will bring.

his hands are traveling up your his shirt, rough fingers just barely making contact with your breasts. his touch lights you on fire, forcing you to break apart, head tilting back in a whimper.

logan takes that as his cue, and suddenly you’re in the air. one of his hands on your lower back securing you to him, the other cradling the underside of your knee.

you latch your other leg behind his waist as he walks out of the bathroom. your lips reconnected, eager to make up for the lost time.

you recognize the softness of your mattress against your back as logan lies you down gently. his mouth continues its assault, a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and side of your throat. he can feel your pulse drumming frantically under his lips, and he has to bite back a smirk at the effect he seemed to have on you.

your reaching your hands down to unclasp his belt when….ring. ring. ring. you feel the vibration against his pants and you think you might die if you have to stop right now.

you both pause in your actions. logan let out a gruff “you gotta be jokin’” as he stands up straight, leaving you lying on the bed.

he pulls his phone from his pocket, eyeing the caller id, scott summers. he’d been the third member of the x-men to try and get ahold of him. fuck can’t a guy have a day off?

he looks away from the phone, shifting his eyes to you. you’re sprawled beautifully on the bed. hair fanned around your head, cheeks flushed red with a devious smile to match. his eyes follow your body down to your legs. they’re spread wide for him, and he watches in shock as you let a hand slide between your thighs, swirling a couple slow circles on your clit through soaked panties.

you throw your head back and call his name, and that’s enough for him. logan tosses his phone over his shoulder, leaning down and crawling in between your legs.

“they’re gonna have to come pry me from this fucking bed, doll. i’m not goin’ nowhere.”

god it was good to be home.

[the-shinysnorlax]

A semi-professional study on Miguel O’Haras powers

Miguel has a lot of silly powers, so here’s a little study of what they can do, the weaknesses, and so on. His powers are what interested me into his character in the first place, and I’m hoping this will allow for others to get more into him as well!

1. Talons

First off I want to clarify that yes, Miguel has talons on both his hands AND feet. They’re on the tips of his fingers and toes! (NOT fingernails or part of the suit!)

Should also mention that these talons are what Miguel uses to climb. He doesn’t have the sticky powers Peter has. He has to dig his talons in to climb.

But more importantly, we actually don’t know what Miguel’s talons are made out of. I’ve seen multiple different answers to this like hardened skin or keratin (Me personally I think it’s hardened skin).

Also Miguel CANNOT harm himself with his talons! They automatically fold up when they touch his skin!

Last important part about his talons is that he can’t seathe them! He “folds” them by his fingers.

This requires pretty much 24/7 concentration in his brain at all times, so when he’s distracted he can very easily pop up the talons

2. Fangs

After ATSV it’s pretty much common knowledge that Miguel has fangs. But one thing the movie got wrong is Miguel can’t seathe or “hide” his fangs, at least not very easily.

Miguel’s fangs are quite large, so much so that he has a slight speech impediment as a result.

Also the fangs have a venom inside of them! The venom DOES NOT kill and only temporarily paralyzes the victim. Miguel rarely bites people and it’s more often than not a last resort (We only see him do it like 4 times in the comics ever)

3. Other random powers

This doesn’t really have a theme, his talons and fangs are his big 2 powers but I do want to mention some of his other abilities!

-Miguel does not have a spidersense! He can’t sense when enemies are coming from behind him! He DOES however have enhanced eyesight which can cause him to locate stuff from far away!

This unfortunately comes at the cost of having extreme light sensitivity, if you see comics Miguel wear sunglasses constantly that’s why! Without them his eyes would be extremely sensitive to light. (Also his eyes are red as well because of this!)

-Miguel has NATURAL webbing! I know in Spiderverse he doesn’t but in the comics he has spinnerets in his wrists! They were actually the last of his powers to come in (Probably because a lot of muscle had to be moved around)

We don’t know if Miguel can actually run out of webbing, I would say it’s possible but unlikely. The spinnerets can hold a lot of storage!

-Miguel’s DNA is confirmed 50% spider so yes. Miguel is not fully human.

-Some other power’s Miguel has include: Enhanced reflexes (Probably even moreso than normal Spider-Man) and the other generic powers that come with being a superhero like enhanced strength, speed, and durability.

Miguel might also have super healing? I can’t 100% confirm on that but I wouldn’t be shocked if he does.

[agustdiv1ne]

𖤐⋆°·.3:13 a.m. (m) — choi beomgyu

genre: smսt (mdni! ageless blogs dni!!), vampire boyfriend!beomgyu, fem!human!reader, mc gets her period, oral (f receiving), bloodplay (ig), i would say i'm sorry but i'm not <3

wc: 3.2k

beomgyu awakes to the smell of blood flooding his nostrils.

bleary eyes snap open as he shakes himself from his suspended state of consciousness, only for him to squint at the glaring crimson numbers of the alarm clock sitting upon the nightstand. it's terribly early. early enough that the stars still glitter against the sable background of the sky outside, early enough that this particular bedroom of his manor remains bathed in darkness. the dimness of the room, however, proves to be no issue for beomgyu's enhanced sight; he watches as your chest rises and falls in steady succession, your sleeping form blissfully unaware of his current predicament. 

oh god, it's you. the blood is yours. the sweet, saliva-inducing perfume of the crimson ichor overwhelms your typically clean, subtle scent; and yet according to his keen senses, the aroma is richer this time, somehow. more potent — he has not smelt anything as addicting in decades. it makes it all the easier for him to want to give into the primal urge to absolutely devour you, to feed and feed and fucking feed from your pretty little neck until he’s sated and you’re halfway brainless. with a jerky shake of his head, he pushes those instincts swirling in his chest into a dark corner of his mind. he’d never feed from you without your permission. he’s not like that; no, he’s not like his former coven that would hunt defenseless humans like you for sport, taking turns drinking from the victim’s body until their veins ran dry. no, he is far from being like them. he loves you, and he’d never do anything that could hurt you.

another wave of sweet iron wafts into his nose, and he exhales sharply, sitting up against the headboard. shit, he really should leave. he should run far away until he can no longer smell you, but he remains frozen in place. sitting there, he takes in how you begin to curl in on yourself, your brows furrowing as if you're in pain. the sight snaps him out of his bloodlust-induced daze, blinking hard when you groan and turn away from him on the bed, your arms wrapped around your midsection — cramps. you’re cramping.

blood, cramping…oh, beomgyu realizes, your period must have started.

the two of you are typically more careful than this, tracking your cycle and ensuring that he is far, far away when it inevitably does hit you. perhaps you’ve both become too complacent in your safety measures after being together so long. it’s easy to forget that he could pose a threat to you when he’s never given you a reason to fear him. he is considered a monster by many, yes, but not by you — and that’s all that really matters to him. besides, beomgyu likes to think he could control himself no matter what, especially when it comes to you and your safety; but when he looks down to his hands, he finds that the fabric of the comforter has been torn open due to his unrelenting grip. his eyes squeeze shut. he needs to leave. he needs to leave right now. you’re too tempting, too testing for his natural instincts. run. run far away before he loses control.

rolling over, your head lands on his lap, arms curling around his left leg as you nuzzle your nose into the smooth skin of his thigh. it’s stronger now, that overwhelming scent. he feels like there’s a frog stuck in his throat, ice in his veins — he needs to get out of here. right fucking now. gently, he tries to peel your body from his, but your arms have become vines, curled tightly around his leg, the side of his knee pressed into the valley between your breasts. they curl tighter as he tries to slip his hands beneath them, but he refuses to use the full extent of his strength on you. 

“baby,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder only to receive no response. he grits his teeth together, he gulps, he tries again. “baby, wake up. you need to let go.”

you let out a sleepy mumble of his name, hooded eyes just beginning to focus as you look up at him. slowly, you take in the stiffness in his posture, his fleeting gaze illuminated by the moonlight. frowning, you set your chin on his thigh, eyes fluttering to a close once again. “what’s going on?”

“i need to leave, darling,” he grits out — he wants to bite you. he can’t bite you. he can’t. he fucking won’t. 

any fatigue remaining in your body drains from your system the moment he utters those words, worry flooding your veins in its wake. you sit up, arms curling around yourself as you lean closer to him, barely registering the pain in your abdomen. his eyes squeeze shut, dark brows furrowing as he shifts away. “why? did something happen? are you in danger—”

how are you so selfless? why, of all things, is the first thing that comes to your mind is his safety? you’re the one that may be in danger here, and he is the reason why you might be. 

you’re on his lap now, hands sliding over the planes of his face and down to cup his jaw. “gyu, c’mon. why do you need to leave?”

his eyes glint red before returning back to normal, razor-sharp fangs elongating before retracting again. his hands remain by his side while he shakes his head, gripping the sheets so cruelly that the threads are on the verge of tearing. now that your legs are parted, he can barely think straight. he needs to taste you, he has to—

“your period just started.”

his voice has lowered to a snarl, resounding from deep within his chest and straight into the pit that has opened up in your stomach. restraint pulls his words taut, hungry, feral — he needs something. he needs blood. you know he’s been depriving himself lately, though you’re unsure why, but now…now feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you with this divine timing. at the sound of another feral groan passing from his lips, you freeze. the fingers brushing over his jaw tense up, pressing into his skin ever so slightly, your voice whisper-quiet. breathy, shock coating each word, “oh. oh shit, um. i’m so sorry, i didn’t. i thought i had another week until—”

your attempt at climbing off of his lap proves to worsen the situation. in the blink of an eye, he’s grabbed ahold of your hips, halting your movements. crimson tinges the edges of his irises, fangs poking out from his upper lip as he pants. “don’t move. please don’t move. i don’t want—fuck, i don’t want to hurt you, baby, please.” 

you sit there for a moment, taking in his pained grimace. he’s fighting himself, he’s fighting every single primal instinct within him telling him to pounce, yet his terribly gentle fingers pressing into your hips indicates that he is still in full control. it’s okay, you think. you’d be okay if he fed.

fingers sliding down to his shoulders, you squeeze. “gyu, you need blood. i know you’re hungry, and it’s okay. i don’t mind.” 

in response, he shakes his head. “no, i can’t. i might hurt you, i can’t.”

your lips purse. what could you do? you’re stuck here, in the precarious position, with no clear way out. figure something out, come on. deep breath. in, out. in, out.

suddenly, an idea unearths itself within the walls of your mind, blooms like the moonflowers that so easily captures your attention when you go on walks with your lover. he doesn’t have to feed in the typical way. he could…oh, he could…

“you don’t have to feed from me, baby,” you coo, watching as his eyes flutter open and meet yours. vermillion now, not one speck of brown in sight. with a gentle, encouraging smile, a hand comes up to swipe through his hair. he shivers at the contact, but you can tell he’s still there. he’s still your gyu, hungry or not. in silence, you take the hand that still holds your left hip and guide it down to the apex of your thighs, allowing his fingers to brush over your panty-clad core. “just…taste me from here.”

he inhales sharply at the contact, at your words, wrenching his arm away. his other hand leaves you completely, palms dragging over his face as he attempts to compose himself. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to take the offer, just take the offer and eat you out — you want it, he really wants it… 

“i can’t,” he chokes out from behind his hands. with a sigh, you shift your face closer to his, grabbing his wrists to remove his hands. he lets you, he always lets you. his eyes remain closed this time, but you work with it; you know he can hear your heartbeat and the rustling of your shirt, smell your sweetness, feel the warmth radiating off of your face as you press a peck to his cheek.

“i trust you,” you whisper against the corner of his lips. he whispers out a weak refusal, and you shift against him, just a tiny motion of your hips that causes him to hiss. lower lip wobbling, his hands find your hips once more, eyes silently pleading with you to quit moving before he loses it. as you cup his cheeks, you tilt your head. “i know, baby. i know you don’t want to hurt me — and you won’t, i know you won’t. but don’t you want a taste? it smells good, doesn’t it? there’s nothing stopping you from taking what you need.”

his resolve crumbles before your very eyes as you continue to encourage him. he doesn’t even need to bite you, it’ll be okay, you’ll be safe. it’ll feel good for you too, rid you of your cramps in the process — doesn’t he want to help you feel better? you’ll both feel better if he does this. 

that’s enough for his composure to splinter, cracks forming and spreading like the roots of a tree until it shatters. there’s little holding him back as he flips you onto your back, him towering over you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. pausing, he stares down at you, voice barely louder than a whisper. “tell me to stop.” 

“i don’t want you to,” you murmur back. “take what you need.”

that’s all he needs to hear.

his fangs glint under the moonlight as he swoops in to capture your lips, aggressive, tongue slinking its way past your lips to curl with your own. the kiss itself doesn’t last long, not when one of his fangs slices into your lip, pulling a squeal from you. easily, he tongue locates the wound, laves over it as blood bubbles up to the surface of the flesh. he moans against your mouth at the taste. the sting subsides as the wound closes, and he pulls away. 

“need more,” beomgyu rasps. he’s wide-eyed, on the verge of absolute ruin, but you love seeing him like this. you crave to see him lose control. you are not the glass doll he’s made you out to be. you can take it, you can take him, and he needs to realize that sooner or later — preferably now. 

so you open your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips, watch as his eyes roll back into his head, and say, “then have more.”

your panties are torn away from your center with ease, and while he can’t technically die, beomgyu thinks that this might just be the nail in his metaphorical coffin. with the barrier of clothes now eliminated, your scent is no longer obstructed, and you smell absolutely fucking divine. his head spins, nose filled with base notes of iron and sugar and a richness that he’s never experienced before. oh. oh fuck, he’s done for. 

sliding down your body until he’s settled between your legs, he holds you open and takes in how blood drips from your fluttering hole. you’re aroused, that much he can tell, and it excites that untamed side of him that he constantly tries to tuck away. it’s out in full force right now, and he doesn’t have it in him to hide it anymore, not when you smell like this, not when your blood is right there for the taking, especially not when you’re inviting him to taste with that sweet little voice of yours, breathy and needy and wanton, pleading for him to touch you. 

and fuck, he can’t take it anymore.

he doesn’t buy time with teasing your thighs like he usually does whenever he eats you out — no, he goes in straight for the kill, tongue licking a strip up your pussy, his groans reverberating against your clit as your saccharine blood hits his taste buds. he doesn’t pull away to comment, but you know just by the way his tongue slips into your hole that he likes what he finds. sometimes, you forget that your lover is no longer human — until these moments in which you are brutally reminded, his tongue extending far into your walls as he gives in to his basest desires. you cry out as the muscle curls up against the spongy spot inside you, thighs closing around his head, but not for long; fingers curl under your thighs, spreading you open for him as he removes his tongue from your entrance, beginning to lick your folds, your inner thighs, cleaning up the blood that has found its way there. his tongue does not slowly savor your skin. rather, he laps at you like a starved man, pulling you closer and closer to his face. if he were human, you’d be worried if he could breathe. 

this must be heaven, he thinks, as he returns back to your folds, tongue swirling around your entrance, his nose bumping against your weeping pearl while his tongue explores your walls as deep as his fingers could go. the sensation is far different from fingers, however — hotter, wetter, you can feel his desperation with every lick and drag, the roughness stimulating every single nerve ending it touches. his hands hold your hips up, holding you as close as possible as he shoves his tongue deeper, the tip of his nose now grinding against your clit. 

“g-gyu! fuck, oh my god, gyuuu!” you repeat over and over again, feeling your high approach. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter, and you reach down to rub your clit with sloppy circles. beomgyu growls at this. he knows you’re close, he knows so well, and he wants to get you there. he needs you to experience the nirvana he has reached right now — he needs you right here with him. 

his tongue leaves your hole again, but the aching emptiness is quickly remedied with three fingers filling you to the brim. back arching, you plead for mercy, for him to let you cum, for anything. please, god, you’ll take anything. he finds your bud, suckling it between his lips, moans muffled against your core and the knot pulls tighter and tighter and the fire rushing through your veins grows white hot—

the knot snaps.

“fu-uckkk!” you scream, voice cracking as your vision spots white, pleasure rushing through every crevice of your body, thighs quaking and back arching and hands finding hair and yanking. your body feels like it’s floating, the waves of pure bliss unending as he continues his ministrations, removing his fingers so he can revel in the taste of your sweet, sweet blood that gushes from your hole. unable to come down, you remain in the throes of pleasure even as he flips the both of you over, your thighs now cushioning his head as you sit atop his face.

you gasp at the position, his eyes now glowing a bright scarlet in the darkness as he looks up at you. you’ve never seen such a shade on him, and arousal sparks in your stomach once again. “gyu, what—”

“more, need more,” he grunts out, now tracing your folds with his tongue. your gyu is still there, just…hungrier, frantic for more. 

if he could taste this for the rest of his life, he would never tire.

“gyu, i don’t— ohhh, shit!” your voice pitches up as he begins to lap at your core, little in his mind other than taking and taking until he’s sated and full. your clit aches with overstimulation, your walls quivering with each pass of his eager tongue as he holds you against him. soon enough, your torso collapses into the mattress, sheets curled between your fingers while you whimper, sweat beading across your heated skin. you can’t. you can’t cum again, and you tell him this again and again, yet he doesn’t heed your cries, building you up and making you cum on his tongue again and again until you can’t even think. your words are incoherent, garbled and tearful against the sheets, begging for him to let up.

“baby, baby i can’t,” you sob as you reach what you think is your fifth orgasm. “gyu!”

finally — fucking finally — he lets up, helps you ride out your high before slipping out from between your thighs. helping you onto your back, he holds your face between his palms, a small trace of blood from his fingers staining your cheek. your blood covers the majority of his lower face, smeared across his chin and lips and even a little on the tip of his nose. if you had enough energy to, you would laugh at the sight. 

“gonna go clean up real quick, okay? i’ll be right back,” he murmurs, squeezing your cheeks when you nod. he’s back within mere seconds, irises now back their normal umber and fangs retracted, no longer more animal than human, no traces of your blood on his face anymore.

“you okay?” he asks softly, smiling when you offer a lethargic nod. he climbs over you, sliding his lips over yours, wet, languid kisses exchanged as he slides his hands up and down your sides. “y’did so well for me, darling. thank you for trusting me.”

“told you it would be worth it,” you shoot back, tiredly giggling when his eyes narrow. 

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replies, eyes softening around the edges as he drinks you in, every curve and edge — perfect. you are perfect to him. hands slides up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you wanna take a bath, love?”

leaning up, you give him a small peck. “that sounds wonderful.”

as beomgyu gathers you in his arm, commenting how he should just burn these sheets since they’re basically ruined, you find yourself thinking that there’s no one else that you would rather spend the rest of your life with — the rest of eternity with, if he’ll allow it. for now, however, you’ll let him tend to you in the bath, pressing butterfly kisses to your neck from behind as you bask in each other’s presence, the sky outside fading from a deep black into a muted azure. 

for now, this is enough.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Pack 141 - Sphinx!Gaz Headcanons

Tags: monster au, sphinx shifter! gaz, poly 141, cuddling, snuggling, generally just sweet vibes, a/b/o dynamics sort of??

-Despite popular belief, he is not a riddle teller, so much as a riddle solver. Gaz is a sharp man, intuitive and observant.  Even if he hadn't come from a long line of notoriously clever shifters, little would stump him to begin with. Man loves a good puzzle, which mostly extends to puzzle games or toys. In addition to a serious love of mystery movies (Benoit Blanc better watch his ass). He does keep a handful of different apps on his phone, just to keep from getting bored, and often finds himself in wikipedia rabbit holes researching anything and everything. All this being said, he will break out a cheesy riddle on occasion, just to be a big smartass.

-Gaz is very physically affectionate with his pack. Fondly pressing his head to Ghost’s shoulder or chest after a particularly lame joke. Chuckling into his shirt. Grabbing Soap by his jaw during an embrace, pressing their cheeks or temples together. Nipping his ear playfully. Gently ramming his forehead to Price’s at the evac point, a silent check in after a grueling mission. 

- A notorious biter, nothing rough unless you ask of course, but the pack are certainly his chew toys.  Leaning over to chomp playfully at Soap’s shoulder when he isn’t paying attention to him. Nipping at the plush pectorals of Ghost’s chest when he is ready to quit napping with him. Chasing and nibbling at Price’s fingers as he tries to patch up his face.  

- Also say goodbye to your personal space, as he regularly, unceremoniously lounges on other members of his pack like they're furniture, sprawling himself over his mates. He tucks himself neatly against the soft fat of Ghost’s stomach and chest, his toes buried underneath Soap’s thigh. 

-Is also very content to let other pack members drape themselves over him. Rumbling happily at a conked out Soap draped over him like a weighted blanket. If one or more are napping around him, be prepared for a cuddle puddle. Gaz craves the physical contact.

- Sphinx commonly communicate with subtle sounds or facial expressions. This being said he is expressive, his feelings written in the lines of his face. (Leading to some mad RBF at times). He also has a tendency to reply in soft hums or huffs. A fair amount of communication with his family was non-verbal. He has been warned more than once to use his words when displeased. 

-Let’s not forget purring, and boy does he purr. Price was positively chuffed when he first heard it, a low rumble that he could barely make out above the mechanical roar of the helo. The op had been exhausting, and Gaz and slumped against his shoulder within the first 5 minutes of their trek home. Safe. Gaz felt safe. Safe enough to rest openly against his captain. It made his heart swell. Price settled in, adjusting the younger sergeant more comfortably before crossing his arms and relaxing himself. Letting the soft rumble lull him.  

-Gaz also possesses a deafening roar. His harmonics can paralyze and injure most in proximity, even deafen. And if you're small enough, completely knock you over with the force of it.

-there is an inherent magic to felids, and this extends to Gaz, who has the ability to see (or at minimum sense) most spirits and spells.  We've all seen cats stare into empty corners…well, they're not staring at nothing.

-yes the purring is indicative of a safe and happy sphinx, but there is a subtle magic to this as well. The resonant purr having a calming effect on those around him, he has lulled more than one pack member into resting with it. Sit with him long enough and you will be handed one ticket to sleepy town junction, whether you like it or not.  No one is immune. 

-Gaz has the sharpest eyes out of all the pack, making him an invaluable sniper. He also shares enhanced hearing, smell, strength and an improved healing factor. 

-There are differing species of sphinx, with their own unique shapes and dispositions. Gaz, even in a full humanoid form still possesses visible characteristics of his species (androsphinx), slitted pupils, long tufted tail, and most notably large wings.  

-Gaz’s wings are bulky, and not designed for extended periods of true flight. While possible, it takes a great deal of energy. It’s something he has to prepare for. They serve him better as enhancements to movement, such as gliding, covering large distances or scaling great heights.

Gaz’s wings can also produce a tremendous gust of wind, and act as a shield for certain types of damage.  

-Gaz, similarly to Price can control his shift, able to alter his body in varying degrees of change. Though some things cannot be completely deteriorated, such as his eyes, wings and tail. Most sphinxes are gifted a unique article as children, usually a piece of jewelry with a glamour charm. In Gaz’s case, this a small  paracord bracelet, its subtle and durable, ideal for his line of work. Other charms can be made, though the charm is tedious to apply. His hat, as well as charming gold earring, all have the same charm applied. 

-Unlike Price and Simon, Gaz’s nature leans less towards possessiveness (though it’s still present), but rather a fierce protectiveness for his pack. He is the peace keeper, a pillar of emotional stability and comfort for his mates. Who he serves not only physically, but emotionally as well. Any slight towards his mates is unacceptable, and while they may forget or forgive, Gaz will not. He will protect them viciously. If not with the gun in his hands then with teeth and claws. 

-Sphinx are territorial. While most are able to tell the difference between deliberate intrusion and accidental trespass. Gaz still gets antsy about the 141's barracks. That he has self declared as exclusively his territory. Like a guard dog who wasn't given permission to bite (yet), he follows any perceived intruder around at a distance, watching around corners in case they try to touch anything. 

-Perhaps even more serious to him than the barracks? His room. A den he calls it, but it's really a nest. His nest is well guarded and maintained, his sanctuary of safety and comfort in a profession full of bloodshed and adrenaline. As social as sphinx are it can be a difficult thing to be away from his pack, and so he keeps articles of clothing from his lovers, weaves them into his nest so the scents weave and surround him like a warm blanket.

-Gaz, thinking himself a rather clever shit, had taken to stealing the items at first. Well not stealing per se, borrowing really. He gives them all back…at some point. In the beginning, while the pack had gotten close, his nest was sorely void of real comfort. It was childish by sphinx standards, to still need a nest after one had left home in their solitary journey. Too embarrassed to outright ask, he took to snagging clothes from the laundry room, washed, but his pack mates scent lingered just enough to tie him over. Only to be replaced with something else when the scent faded completely. 

-Ghost, of course, was the first to notice. Being forgetful was something Ghost was not. And he knew when his favorite hoodie was missing god damn it, only to mystically appear when he pulled his clothes from the dryer, just for another favorite, an old soft band t-shirt, to come up missing next. Ghost clocked him soon afterward, catching the little thief by the familiar scents that clung to Gaz when he shuffled into the kitchen that morning. 

-After a stern conversation with his Lieutenant, Gaz explained himself with burning cheeks. Ghost hadn't said a word, only yanked his current sweatshirt off his shoulders, shoving it into Gaz's hands. “Go on then, and bring me my other one back" he grunted.

-From then on, like clockwork, Gaz retrieves his treasures. Swapping out clothes for new pieces, warm and scent heavy.  Price is sure to drop off extra when he anticipates being on longer missions. Soft cotton sweatshirts soaked in his honey-tobacco scent.  Why no he did not shift and then wallow on these clothes like a chinchilla to make sure his scent sticks…ignore all the dog hair. 

-It would only get better once his pack began to tumble in bed with him, their scents mingling, soaking into his plush blankets. Now, Gaz sleeps soundly, purring serenely against the skin of one or more of his mates.

[samwisethewitch]

Bewitching Your Coffee

I am 100% a coffee drinker. I love drinking it black, I love it in lattes and cappucini (yes, that's the actual plural of cappucino), and I especially love the experience of sharing coffee with another person. And, like everything that comes out of my kitchen, I like finding ways to make coffee more magical.

But even though coffee is a daily essential for a lot of us and has a long history in folk magic, people don't talk about it nearly as much as tea magic. I did some digging, and this post contains my research into the magic and lore of coffee and the things we like to add to coffee. I hope my fellow kitchen witches find this helpful!

Correspondences of Coffee and Common Coffee Add-ons

Coffee: Used for grounding and to anchor a spell in the physical world. Useful in spells for mental clarity and enhancing psychic senses. Used in several types of American folk magic as an offering for spirits. Author Starr Casas uses coffee for powerful cleansing and blockbusting in her Southern folk magic practice. Because of its association with energy and movement, coffee can be used to add strength to spells. I personally associate coffee with the Earth and Air elements and with the planet Uranus.

Milk has different correspondences based on whether you are using cow's milk or a plant-based milk.

Cow's Milk: Associated with nurturing, love, and abundance. In pagan Ireland, offering someone milk was an effective blessing. Milk and cream are said to be favorite offerings of fairies. I associate cow's milk with the Water element and the Moon.

Soy Milk: Soy may have been a sacred food crop in ancient China and is associated with blessings. During the Japanese festival Setsubun, soy beans are used to repel bad spirits and draw good fortune in a practice called mamemaki -- soy products can be used in spells for protection or good fortune. Use soy milk or other soy products in spells for success, good luck, and prosperity. I personally associate soy milk with the Earth element and with the planet Jupiter.

Almond Milk: Associated with prosperity, wealth, and success in business, as well as with increasing wisdom. Almond milk and other almond products are associated with the Air element and the planet Mercury.

Coconut Milk: Associated with purification, healing, and protection. In African American magic traditions, coconut can be used for peaceful home work and protection work, as well as ancestor offerings. Coconut is associated with the Water element and the moon.

Oatmilk: Associated with prosperity and money magic. Oats are associated with the Earth element and the planet Venus.

Sweeteners attract sweetness and good fortune. Different sweeteners have their own associations.

Sugar: Associated with love and lust. In Southern folk magic, sugar is sometimes used in money work. Sugar is associated with the Water element and the planet Venus.

Brown Sugar: Has the same associations as regular sugar, but works more slowly because it contains molasses.

Honey: Associated with home, family, love, and blessings. In Southern folk magic, honey is sometimes used in domination or control work, especially honeycomb. I personally associate honey with the Water element and with the planet Venus.

Maple Syrup: Associated with love, money, and long life. I personally associate maple with new life and transformation based on Robin Wall Kimmerer's writings about them in Braiding Sweetgrass. Associated with the Air element and the planet Jupiter.

Artificial Sweeteners (Splenda, xylitol, and other man-made sweeteners): There's very little written about the magical uses of these sweeteners, but I personally associate them with creativity, innovation, and new discoveries. I associate these sweeteners with the Air element and the planets Mercury and Uranus.

Caramel* is actually made from sugar, which is cooked over low heat until it caramelizes, or turns brown. Caramel has the same magical associations as sugar, but with a stronger connection to Fire energy and to transformation.

*Note: In the US, "caramel" is often made with corn syrup. For example, the caramel drizzle at Starbucks is basically 100% corn syrup, or at least was when I worked there a few years back. This isn't to say you can't work magically with corn syrup-based caramel, but the energy will be different. I don't have experience here because I have a corn allergy, so I'd love to hear if anyone has experience working with corn syrup in witchcraft!

Chocolate** is originally from Latin America and was an important ceremonial drink in Mayan culture. In Mexica (Aztec) culture, chocolate was used as currency and was said to be a gift from the gods. It was associated with the devil and with witchcraft when it was first brought to Spain by colonizers. Later, during the Renaissance, it was seen as a miracle cure for all kinds of medical conditions. Based on its history, chocolate can be used in magic for love, sex, energy, spirituality, magical abilities, and healing. I personally associate chocolate with the Fire element and with the Sun.

**Note: Scott Cunningham includes a note on "chocolate" in his book on magical herbs, but this is actually carob, Jacaranda procera. The cacao tree, which produces chocolate, is Theobroma cacao.

Cinnamon is associated with success, healing, adding power to spells, spirituality, wealth, and protection. Cinnamon is important in Christian folk magic because of its use in the Bible. In Southern folk magic, cinnamon is used for money, luck, and lust and is said to work very fast. It can also be used for blessings and protection spells. It is associated with the Fire element and the Sun.

Clove is probably most famous for its use in spells to stop gossip, but it is also used to drive away harmful spirits and to attract wealth. It is also sometimes used in love and sex magic and for successful business work. It is connected to the Fire element and the planet Jupiter.

Ginger adds power to spells and situations. It is used in spells for love, money, success, and healing, but it can be included in any spell to add power or make results happen faster. Ginger is associated with Fire and with the planet Mars.

Hazelnuts have long been used in Western European folk charms for luck and good fortune. It is said that eating hazelnuts makes you wise and can increase fertility. Hazel is also associated with protection and with granting wishes. It is connected to the Air element and the Sun.

Lavender is used in love spells, especially spells to attract a masculine partner. It also has a strong association with peacefulness and with calming emotions. It is sometimes used for protection and is said to both attract and banish spirits, depending on the source. Lavender has a long historic connection to the queer community. It is associated with Air and the planet Mercury.

Nutmeg is most famous as a good luck charm, but it is also used for healing, money, and success. In Southern folk magic, it is used mostly for money, success, and good luck. It is associated with Fire and with Jupiter.

Peppermint is commonly used in healing magic, but it can also be used for purification, attracting good spirits, divination, love, and money. In Southern folk magic, peppermint is used for hex breaking. It is associated with Fire and the planet Mercury.

Vanilla is strongly associated with love and comfort. It can sometimes be used in lust spells. Scott Cunningham mentions using vanilla to replenish lost energy. It is associated with the Water element and the planet Venus.

Magical Coffee Brews

With these ingredient correspondences, you can easily mix a spell into a coffee drink. For example, a pumpkin spice latte (which is made with pumpkin pie spice, i.e., a mix of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves) can be a spell for money and success. A lavender latte with oatmilk could be an excellent love spell, especially for queer love. A peppermint mocha (coffee with chocolate) could be a healing spell. There are lots of possibilities for a magic brew!

Sources:

Witchcraft for Everyone by Sam Wise

Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham

Hoodoo Herbal by Starr Casas

Jambalaya by Luisah Teish

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Wikipedia article for soybeans

Wikipedia article for Setsubun

"History of Chocolate" on History.com

"Chocolate: From witchcraft to miracle worker in early modern Europe" by Erin Alice Cowling, published in The Conversation

[autieofthevalley]

ATEEZ'S KINKS THOUGHTS 🫦

[MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS OR DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED INSTANTLY, BACK TF OUT⚠️]

Okay, so i was watching tiktoks and this idea came to me, this is my thoughts on what kinks each member of Ateez could actually have based on videos i've seen of them and the vibes they give.

HONGJOONG / Daddy Kink

You've seen that man, he's the ultimate dilf, like really. The vibes, his looks, everything. And lately, we discovered that him and Yunho were dominants (based on that recent video with the medium guy). So yes, of course, he's a shy baby, BUT i'm pretty sure, that man is a secret freak, and he LOVES to dominate you. Don't care if you're a bit older or younger than him, he would ADORE being called "Daddy", or even "Captain" (you know what i'm talking about) while he pounds into you. He would, in fact, go even harder if you call him that from your own will, you know you would not be able to walk after that session with him. (The soft aftercare would be always here by the way)

SEONGHWA / Bondage and/or Blindfolded

Now, hear me out on that one. Okay, so i don't know why BUT i feel like Seonghwa would love bondage, either on him or his partner. As well as being blindfolded. I can see him tying up his partner and go down on them after putting a blindfold on them to enhance their other senses. He gives those vibes. He would also adore shibari (!!!), especially on him, as his partner would play with his cock until he's leaking bad, would turn him on so fast to be tied up.

YUNHO / Dacryphilia

Pretty sure it's not a surprise for any of you, because we literally all agreed unconsciously that this mf has a potential kink seeing people crying, turns him on. Firstly, like Hongjoong, he's a dominant for sure, secondly, i know he would (not even as a punishment) be a little meanie sometimes in bed, wanting to see you cry out to him after he edged you and denied all of your orgasms somehow, your tears would fuel him on and eventually, he would give in and obliterate you during at least an hour non-stop making you cry even more of overstimulation.

YEOSANG / Katoptronophilia

If you're not familiar with the term, Katoptronophilia is being sexually aroused when having sex and masturbating in front of a mirror. I'm not sure why, i can see Yeosang, even if he's mostly shy, having this secret kink. Like two faces of the same coin (if you know what i mean). Yeosang would be turned on seeing himself and his partner have sex, even making his partner watch him masturbating. The intimacy of it, the act in itself, he would instantly go all red and come quickly all over his chest, thighs, and hands, even watching his cock disappear inside you through the mirror, he would come so hard.

SAN / Size Kink

I dare you to look me in the eyes and tell San would not have a size kink. Have you seen him??? That mf knows, and he plays with that, as much as Yunho and his hands (but that's another story for another time i think). He would adore have a smaller s/o, loving the effect he would have on you. And he would certainly manhandle you in bed (gently or rough, if you ask him, after all he's a pleasure dom). He would be surely turned on, knowing the difference in size. He would have you pinned to the bed, both your wrists and your hips, enjoying the bulge in your stomach everytime he would hit your insides, a little too much, that man is a freak.

MINGI / Praising Kink

YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!! This manwhore LOVES and ADORE being praised so much, i could honestly do an hour compilation of him loving the compliments and the barking, he even asks for it most of the time!!! I know he loves when you praise him in bed too, telling how well he fucks you, or how much you love his body. He could come from your praises alone, especially if you're dominant, oh, he's surely coming hard from that.

JONGHO / Strength Kink

WOOYOUNG / Degrading Kink

I know this little shit loves to be degraded and also loves to degrade. He's a real switch and a whole menace, okay? When he degrades, he loves to call you a whore, his little slut while either getting sucked or pounding you the shit out of you, it's getting in his blood and boost his dominant side. When he's being dominated, though.. it riles him up to being degraded, he can honestly come from just you calling him your little whore, without being touched.

Listen to me right now, that man knows how to use his strength, bro knows how to break an apple in two in 0.5 seconds, first of all, that's hot and attractive of him. Secondly, he would surely use that ability in bed, and like San, he would also manhandle you. Would fuck you against a wall without hesitation and would eat you out also against the wall, just supporting your thighs on his shoulders and holding you in place with his bare hands.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A.N : Happy Halloween my darlings 🎃 i hope you enjoyed my little train of thoughts ♡ make sure to reblog and like if you did !

[kimmie2me]

Hi there! May you pretty please do deku x reader with a deer/fawn quirk! Headcannons or a story is fine you can choose🍒

Marks of a Hero

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader with a fawn Quirk

.....

Izuku’s dorm room was filled with the soft amber glow of his desk lamp, casting a cozy warmth over the walls covered in hero posters and personal memorabilia. You sat cross-legged on his bed, smiling softly as he animatedly flipped through his notes, pointing out drawings and theories with a passion that seemed to set his eyes alight.

“…so, I guess that’s what fascinates me so much about quirks that alter someone’s physical form. Like Tsuyu-chan! She’s developed abilities that make her adaptable to so many situations—on land, underwater, high places,” he gushed, eyes sparkling with admiration. He moved on to mention quirks like Mirko’s remarkable rabbit agility and speed, Hawks’ feathered wings with all their hidden abilities, and finally… he paused, looking over at you, hesitant but with a trace of wonder in his expression.

“…And yours. I just think it’s incredible how graceful you are. There’s something different about the way you move, how attuned you seem to your surroundings. It’s like…” He trailed off, almost bashful, rubbing the back of his neck as he fumbled for words. “It’s like you’re connected to something beyond what we can see. I don’t know, maybe it sounds strange, but I’d love to understand it better. If that’s okay?”

You blinked, heart swelling at his openness and curiosity. His enthusiasm for quirks always inspired you, but hearing him speak so intently about yours had a different effect. You leaned forward, smiling gently.

“Why don’t you explore it yourself?” you offered, the suggestion so natural that it slipped out before you could second-guess it. “It might help your research if you could… well, take a closer look.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, cheeks flooding with color. “W-Wait, really? You’d… let me? I mean, here? Now?”

You nodded, a calm reassurance in your expression. “Yes. I trust you, Izuku. Besides, if it’ll help with your analysis, I’m happy to assist.”

“Right. Right, of course! Purely for research,” he stammered, trying to steady his nerves. With a deep breath, he inched closer, his fingers hovering just above your shoulders, hesitating. “This is… okay?”

You offered him a soft nod, and, at last, he began to reach out, his touch light as a feather at first, as if afraid to disturb something precious. His fingertips traced along the faint contours of your collarbone, where your skin bore subtle markings unique to your quirk. He’d always found these hints of animalistic strength mesmerizing, even in his sketches and notes. Up close, he seemed even more awestruck.

“This is… incredible,” he murmured, voice hushed with reverence. His fingertips followed the delicate tracings of darker pigmentation on your shoulders and arms—markings reminiscent of the patterns found on young fawns, subtle but unmistakably present. “It’s like these patterns… they almost mirror actual fawn spots. I wonder if they have any evolutionary purpose, like camouflage? Have you ever noticed if they shift in different seasons or adapt to your surroundings?”

You chuckled, unable to hide your amusement. “Not that I’ve noticed. But I do have enhanced senses, so maybe it’s just as useful that way.” His fingers brushed over a slight ridge along your shoulder, evidence of a minor quirk-related adjustment beneath the skin, and you saw his gaze sharpen with fascination.

“Your shoulders,” he observed, his voice soft and analytical, “they’re slightly more developed, like there’s an extra layer of muscle. It’s so subtle, but… is that how you can leap as high as you do?”

You nodded, impressed by his insight. “Exactly. I don’t even realize it sometimes, but it’s there. Helps with balance and power.” You could feel his hands relax as he grew more absorbed, each touch more confident, his focus trained on understanding rather than hesitation.

For a moment, he was lost in his analysis, fingertips exploring the faint curve of your spine and the sinewy strength you carried. There was a purity to his admiration—his complete and genuine awe of your abilities—and it warmed you to see him immersed in discovering this side of you.

And then, he stilled, drawing his hands back with a shy laugh. “I, uh… sorry. I got a little carried away.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I don’t mind. Actually, Izuku, would it be okay if I… looked at you, too?”

His face reddened immediately, and he seemed to shrink back, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous reflex. “Uh… m-me? I mean… I… I don’t think there’s much to see.” He glanced down, his voice faltering. “It’s mostly just scars. Nothing like… like yours. I mean, there’s not much that’s…”

He trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish, and your heart softened. “Izuku,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand, “these scars are part of you, too. They’re part of everything that makes you who you are. I’d like to see them, if you’d let me. I promise, I won’t judge. I just… want to understand more about you.”

He looked at you, and in his eyes, there was something so vulnerable, so open that it took your breath away. Slowly, he nodded, taking a shaky breath as he lifted his shirt, revealing the map of scars that crisscrossed his chest and torso—signs of battles and struggles, reminders of his journey.

Your hand hovered just above his skin, taking in the raw evidence of everything he’d been through. Carefully, you let your fingers rest over a thin, jagged scar running along his collarbone.

Izuku’s voice softened, almost as if he were telling you a secret. Maybe because, well, he was. “That one… it’s from the Hero Killer, Stain. When he attacked Iida in Hosu City, I… I knew I couldn’t just stand by. We were just supposed to be training, but I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.”

You nodded, fingers tracing over the scar with gentle reverence. “You were so brave,” you whispered. He blushed, his eyes downcast but a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t feel brave,” he admitted, glancing up at you. “But in that moment, I just… I knew I had to act. I'm so glad Todoroki-kun came to help us.”

Your hand drifted to another mark, a deeper one just above his ribs, and he inhaled, recognizing the spot immediately. “That was from Overhaul,” he said, voice low. “When I… when I saved Eri. She was so scared. I remember feeling like I had to give everything I had, and then some.”

The memory hung between you both, heavy and sacred. You remembered that battle, the way he’d come back bruised and battered but with that quiet strength that had always set him apart. “Eri’s safe because of you, Izuku,” you murmured, a soft pride in your tone. “You’re a hero to her.”

He looked up, his green eyes softening as he watched you trace each mark with such care. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted, “but seeing her smile afterward at the school festival… it was worth it.”

You moved lower, touching a scar on his side—a small one, but etched with a memory just as fierce. “This one?”

“That was… from Nine.” Izuku’s voice grew quiet, his gaze distant as he relived the memory. “On Nabu Island. Kacchan and I fought him together. He was so strong, but… I couldn’t let him hurt anyone. I couldn’t let anyone on the island suffer because of us.” He managed a small, shaky laugh. “Kacchan wouldn’t forgive me if I gave up anyway.”

The way he said it made you smile, knowing that even amid chaos and danger, his heart had been focused on protecting others. You took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed as he scratched his neck, embarrassed. “I just… I did what I had to. What any hero would.”

But you shook your head. “No, Izuku. Not everyone would. That’s what makes you so special.”

You continued to explore each mark, reaching one on his upper arm next. He looked at it, a fond smile in his eyes. “This one… it’s from Kota. When we fought Muscular. I thought… I thought I might not make it, but he gave me a reason to fight, you know? He trusted me.” There was a warmth in his gaze, a memory he held dearly.

“He trusted you because he saw how strong you were,” you said, feeling the strength in his arm. “You’re someone people can rely on, Izuku. Kota, Eri… and me.”

He let out a small laugh, nervous but happy, eyes shining as he looked at you. “Thank you.”

You paused on a scar just below his ribs, softer than some of the others, almost hidden against his skin. He placed his hand over yours, looking down at it with a sad smile. “Flect Turn,” he said quietly. “It’s still… hard to think about that one. The way his quirk worked… it felt like I was being forced to face myself. To question everything I was trying to achieve.”

You met his gaze, voice steady. “But you didn’t back down.”

“No,” he said, his voice more certain this time. “I didn’t.”

For a moment, you just sat there, taking in the weight of his story, each scar a part of the journey that had shaped him. You ran your fingers over a few smaller ones, ones he didn’t mention, but you knew from the look in his eyes that each one had a tale to tell.

Finally, he looked up, the tension in his shoulders softened, the vulnerability you’d seen in his eyes replaced with a quiet confidence. “Thank you for… for wanting to know all of this,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

You took his hands, squeezing them gently. “Thank you for letting me in, Izuku. These scars—they’re not weaknesses. They’re your strength. Proof of every battle, every person you’ve helped, and every reason you’ve kept going.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and in that moment, he felt seen, understood, in a way he never had before. His cheeks flushed again, but there was a warmth in his expression, one you knew he’d carry with him beyond this room, beyond these memories.

“Thank you,” he whispered again, and this time, you knew he meant it in a way only the two of you could understand.

Midoriya Headcanons

...

— Izuku is utterly fascinated by how graceful you are, often catching himself watching you move without realizing it. He’s taken by the way you seem to instinctively navigate through crowds and small spaces with ease, almost like you’re attuned to every small detail around you.

— His notebook is filled with little sketches of your quirk’s features, like the subtle fawn-like markings or unique muscle structure that helps with agility. He’s spent hours researching how animal traits like yours might benefit in hero work, adding little notes like, “Could be useful for enhanced evasion.”

— He’s always mindful about touching you, especially if he’s trying to understand your quirk’s physical differences. His fingers are soft and light, often tracing the markings on your skin with almost scientific reverence, as if he’s afraid to break something delicate.

—Izuku’s attentive enough to notice if your senses seem more heightened in certain seasons or environments. He’ll offer his jacket or scarf in the winter, thinking your quirk might make you more sensitive to cold, and will keep extra snacks on hand in case you need extra energy.

—On days when training has been intense, he’ll suggest taking you to quieter places, like an empty park or a spot on campus where you can unwind. He knows that your heightened senses might make crowded spaces overwhelming, so he loves giving you a peaceful place to recharge.

— IIzuku finds your presence calming in a way he can’t quite explain. When he’s stressed or overthinking, he’s drawn to you because your calm demeanor and gentle movements help him feel grounded, and he’s always grateful for that unspoken support.

— He’s curious about how your quirk can be applied in different scenarios, so you two spend time coming up with unique tactics for you in mock battles. You’ve even managed to startle Bakugou once by sneaking up quietly—Izuku was genuinely impressed because not everyone can just do that!

— Knowing how self-conscious he sometimes feels about his scars, you’ve started a quiet ritual of tracing them gently, assuring him that they’re a testament to his courage and resilience. It’s become one of his favorite gestures, even if he blushes each time you do it.

— Izuku takes notes on exercises that might help you develop your natural abilities even further. He’ll shyly suggest new routines designed specifically with your quirk in mind, encouraging you to experiment and improve in ways that feel uniquely suited to you.

— Some nights, after studying or training, you’ll sit together, sharing stories about your quirks and experiences. Izuku finds himself opening up about his insecurities and struggles, especially around those he’s saved, while you reassure him that he’s helped you feel seen and understood, too.

[skellymom]

"AMBER EYES"

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

(Credit: Pinterest Bad Batch, Saphira Laufens, Dividers @saradika)

Word Count: 475

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

“Can you hold this for a minute?” 

Omega handed me her brother’s goggles while she wiped down the shelf they would be resting upon in the Archium. 

Clean up and repairs to the island and the artifacts museum were underway after the Empire had left the planet of Pabu...and when the clones returned. 

They helped the residents of the island put their lives back together.

We helped them find a better life here. 

Crosshair was the one to locate Tech’s goggles under some heavy rubble Wrecker lifted out of the way.  His eyes catching a glint of light reflected off the remaining amber glass of its lenses. 

I held the goggles, staring into what was left of that glass. 

Unfortunately, I came to the island after he perished on a distant planet.  Never got the chance to meet him. 

Pity that.   

I became close to his remaining brothers and sister.   

It started with Hunter.  According to him, he has enhanced senses.  I clocked him right away... 

Just a feeling.   

But that’s been most of my life.  Small snatches of intuition... 

Lucky guesses...they happen occasionally.  Fortuitous events that helped me navigate my life in this ever-changing galaxy. 

Wrecker’s strength, Crosshair’s eyesight, Omega’s empathy and strategy... 

And Tech’s superior intellect. 

We all have gifts. 

I lift the goggles up to stare through them as Tech would have done.  That amber glass captivating me... 

Hunters head snaps up quickly.  I can FEEL his stare. 

My hands suddenly go numb...like when cold wind rushes over them. 

The Archium’s walls dissolve into blue, cloudy skies and it handicaps my equilibrium... 

I trip and fall...hear Wrecker screaming... 

Down. 

Down. 

Down. 

A shattering impact.  I suddenly cannot see... 

Don’t know how long I was...GONE...but the feelings of being in my own body returns.  I’m cradled in the warm arms of Wrecker.  His face along with Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega’s hover over me as I lay on the floor. 

“What happened?” Crosshair’s expression is one of concern. 

I lift up the goggles, clutched TIGHTLY in my hand and gaze at the splintered amber lenses. 

“Tech.” is all I can muster. 

“Whatta’bout Tech?” Wrecker asks with trepidation. 

Staring into those lenses, I inhale and exhale.  I’m breathing...he’s breathing...WE are breathing simultaneously. 

“I...felt...FEEL HIM...he’s...ALIVE.”   

All eyes widen, then shift to their Sergeant. 

Hunter’s eyes discern SOMETHING...he doesn’t understand what.  But he believes what I’m saying.  Can read it in his expression. 

He then taps the comm on is wrist. “Havoc 5, do you copy?” 

Silence, then a grumpy voice answers back “I copy Havoc 1.” 

“Rendevous at our coordinates.  Recon mission for Havoc 2“ 

Stunned silence, then an excited reply “Enroute IMMEDIATELY Havoc 1!  Havoc 5 OUT!!!” 

“You’ll help us find..?” Hunter requests as he reaches for my hand. 

I grip it firmly with conviction. “Yes...look forward to FINALLY meeting him.” 

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[sonofhelios2005]

It's entirely the fault of Tumblr that i can't get the idea of Vampire!Charles out of my head. First, it's mentioned in a few posts, and then people keep posting fanart of Charles that looks very vampiric. And then ahyperactivehero starts writing "blessed be the boys time can't capture" an actual story which has Charles as a vampire but isn't entirely AU as it seems like they are still going to become detectives.

Charles being a vampire is just so interesting not just because he would have vastly different abilities but also because vampires always add a different sense of morality because they are predators, Charles would drink blood but would it be animal, human, magical synthetic? Would Charles be more willing to harm their enemies as a vampire? Would he occasionally kill enemies who go too far and won't retreat?

What abilities would Charles have? Depending on the media, vampires have vastly different powers. The common ones are enhanced strength and speed, senses, and reflexes. There are some many other shape-shifting, flight, telepathy, mind control, and blood magic. Charles having different abilities would also change how they operated as detectives. If Charles can't mirror travel, how would he follow Edwin, turn into a bat, and ride in Edwin's front pocket through the mirror? Perhaps vampires could have a method of teleportation like shadow travel.

Would Charles be able to wear his earring? Would he be vulnerable to religious iconography? Does it require the vampire to believe in the particular symbols. Sunlight is deadly to vampires, but can Charles use a tanning bed? Yes, he can, and he does just to annoy Edwin. Would Charles carry a welcome mat in his bag so he can get into other peoples houses without an invitation? Edwin would be extremely pissy if this worked because it won't make any sense. If Charles can't walk in sunlight how could they get around this for cases, An umbrella? Some vampires can influence the weather so Charles could make it cloud over whenever he needs.

On a darker note, if Charles ever lost control and killed someone, the level of drama and angst would be cosmic. Or if Charles became addicted to killing and he started hunting criminals to satisfy his bloodlust, then Edwin would have to stop him. Would Edwin be able to? Lock Charles up with blessed silver until he came to his senses?

[kathiraven]

Once upon a time, there was a powerful magician named Magnus. He lived alone in a grand castle atop a towering mountain, far away from prying eyes. One day, he decided to celebrate his birthday...

with a special spell. He conjured up a cake, candles flickering merrily, and a bottle of finest wine. The aroma filled the air, intoxicating and sweet. But then, something unexpected happened

As Magnus blew out the candles, wishing for a devoted servant, a blinding flash of light illuminated the room. When the glare subsided, standing before him was none other than the birthday man himself - transformed into Magnus' personal servant!

The man, now clad in simple robes, gazed around in confusion, trying to comprehend what had transpired. Magnus, amused by this twist of fate, welcomed his new servant with a mischievous chuckle. The former birthday man, now known as Servimus, quickly learned to navigate this strange new world, discovering hidden talents and strengths along the way.

The former birthday man, now known as Servimus, quickly learned to navigate this strange new world, discovering hidden talents and strengths along the way.

Intrigued by the possibilities, Magnus focused his attention on Servimus' attire. With a snap of his fingers, the servant's plain robes vanished, replaced by a stunning ensemble that accentuated his newly enhanced physique.A sleek, form-fitting suit of shimmering silk hugged Servimus' frame, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean waist. The deep V-neckline revealed a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, tanned skin. The trousers clung to his muscular legs, tapering down to stylish boots adorned with gleaming buckles.The outfit was completed by a flowing cape, its edges trimmed with intricate embroidery that seemed to dance and shift in the light. Magnus admired his handiwork, pleased with how the garments highlighted Servimus' masculine beauty.Servimus, still adjusting to his new appearance, looked down at himself in wonder.

Magnus, seeing Servimus' discomfort, felt a pang of guilt. He did not want to force his new servant to live in a body that made him uncomfortable. So, with a gentle touch and a whisper of magic, he transformed Servimus back to his original self.But then, something wonderful happened. Servimus, now fully aware of his true feelings, embraced his newfound identity. He accepted his desires and the changes that came with them. And with Magnus' continued support and understanding, they forged a bond unlike any other – one based on mutual respect, trust, and love.

Yes, as Servimus grew more comfortable in his own skin, he began experimenting with different styles of clothing. He adopted the latest trends popular among the gay community, embracing the freedom and expression that fashion allowed.His wardrobe expanded to include tight jeans that showcased his well-toned legs, paired with snug tank tops that displayed his muscular arms. He also favored leather jackets, their supple texture contrasting against his smooth skin.And just like that, Servimus transformed not just physically but also sartorially, embodying the essence of modern gay fashion.

Magnus couldn't help but admire Servimus' bold new look. The way the tight clothes hugged every curve and contour of his servant's body sent shivers down the wizard's spine.Their interactions became charged with a newfound intimacy, their gazes lingering a moment too long, their touches tinged with a hint of longing. It was as if the very fabric of their relationship had been rewoven, the threads of affection and lust intertwined in a complex tapestry of emotions.One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit library, Magnus found himself drawn to Servimus in a way he never had before. The fire crackling in the hearth cast flickering shadows across their faces, heightening the sense of forbidden allure.

 In the silence broken only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the crackling of the fire, Magnus leaned closer to Servimus, his breath warm against the servant's ear. Would you like me to show you another trick? he whispered, his voice low and husky.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 42)

The next few days were spent filling out paperwork, taking a few cognitive tests, and answering questions N was sure Khan already knew. Despite that, Khan had assured him multiple times that this was purely procedure, and he essentially had the job.

It was also spent worrying… each time he came home he'd been drawn to his girlfriend like a moth to a particularly purple flame, as soon as he was in range to hear her core, that warm haze would overtake him, and when he came back to his senses, he was already holding her no matter where she was, a chair, the couch, taking a nap, it did not matter.

It made sense… he loved her. He wanted to be close and it wasn't the closeness that worried him. It was the fact he wouldn't even remember how he ended up there that was the problem, he was walking through the doorway one moment, and curled up tightly against her the next.

He wasn't sure she remembered either, she would often seem to jolt “awake” around the same time as he did, then they'd look at each other, confused.

It was like a mandated cuddle session, and he didn't exactly mind, but some control over when and where would be great, thank you.

“So everything seems to be in order, last thing we need to do is put you through our basic training.” Khan’s voice finally cut through the TV static that was N's thoughts, all of his eyes suddenly focused on the man, which seemed to immediately trip Khan up, even if he wasn't consciously aware of the fact N had seven eyes.

“Basic Training?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow, wasn't that reserved for stuff like the military?

“Yes! The WDF does more than watch over doors! We're the defacto police force for the colony, we keep an eye on everything! And we need to make sure you're in tip-top physical condition.”

Khan looked N up and down.

“And I tried to tell everyone it was functionally pointless… considering, but everyone wants to see you put through your paces, so thats what were going to do today!”

“Well, okay! I love doing anything?” N agreed, much like he did most of everything in his life, but he wasn't confident, wasn't this normally pretty hard?

“Great!”

Ten Minutes Later…

N was actually… kinda impressed at the obstacle course the WDF had for training, it had a climbing wall, a barbed wire crawl, tire steps, and a rope shimmy. Everything all about enhancing motor control and maneuverability, since strength and speed can't really be improved when you're made out of steel and hydraulic.

The room he'd been lead to was huge, the ceiling curving in a dome shape above them. A group of 20 or so people were on benches not too far away, all wearing WDF badges on different parts of their clothing. Khan led him to the starting line with a clipboard and a timer, looking excited himself.

“Alright! There is a benchmark of three minutes that you have to beat. But that should be no problem for you.”

“Ah… I have wings, should I…?”

“Oh! Yes it's probably best if you… refrain. Just to make it fair.”

Alright, no wings then.

He was nervous, genuinely. He'd never been through actual training before strangly enough. He'd just been… pre-programmed. Or re-programmed, with combat protocols innately.

While he was hunting, combat came naturally almost on autopilot, every sense heightened, reflex sharpened. He'd never enjoyed it, but he'd never had to think about it very hard either.

So, when it came to actually navigating through the course, he wasn't sure if he could without putting himself in ‘hunting mode’.

“Are you ready, son-in-law?”

He rolled his eyes before nodding, he got in a sprinters stance, surely this wouldn't be too hard right?

“Go!”

He shot off, legs beating underneath him as he came up to the tire steps, it felt strange, being bound to the ground instead of flying, and he felt way more clumsy this way then normal… oh well.

His systems charted the path for him, and his legs moved without putting in much conscious effort, then it was on to the barbed wire.

What once was a silent room seemed to fill with murmurs as he went, he threw himself onto his belly and scrambled underneath, he could feel the wire digging into the back of his coat, but he didn't slow down even as he started to sink into the mud.

He emerged out the other side filthy, but now came time to scale the wall, he had to will away the instinctual way his wings wanted to come out, he took a moment to pause, it was a sheer wooden wall, sanded down to remove any grooves or notches to climb up.

This was for workers.

How would a worker get over this?

How would Uzi get over this?

He took several steps backwards, taking a deep breath as his systems calculated his jump.

He got a running start as he pounced on the wall, and kept running, every servo in her legs keeping him upright as he ran up the wall and grabbed the top of it, before hoisting himself up. Murmurs turned to a few tentative cheers.

The final challenge, was a rope shimmy from the top of the wall to the finish line, he could jump down from this height no problem, but at this point, a part of him wanted to prove himself to both Khan and the rest of the WDF that he didn't need his “upgrades” to do this.

He wrapped himself around the rope, tail included, his weight had the rope sag and bend more then intended, which was an extra challenge as he climbed down, turned upside down.

At this point, he heard several whoops from the benches, making him smile despite the fact that his joints were getting a little sore from how quickly he'd been moving, he quickly shimmied down until he hit the final sprint to the finish line, where once again he put every once of power into his legs as he took off in a dead sprint, before he reached the finish line, where he had to dig his claws into the ground to slow down.

He panted, feeling his vents take in air so hard it was producing a low whine, his hands gripped his knees, he was muddy and gross and sweaty (why do robots sweat?!) And his breath was ragged, but he felt a hand slap his back.

“A minute fifteen! New record!” Khan said happily, looking like he had stars in his eyes, N smiled, his hair falling into his visor.

It was abundantly clear that his body had not been designed for anything but ambushing and flying, a more “death from above” then a persistence predator, because his joints were currently screaming “what the heck did you just do?!” at him. He wanted to sit down now…

“Great! U-uggh.” Khan led him over to a chair where he instantly collapsed in it, throwing his head back and not quite caring he was still covered in mud.

“Wow, that was kinda impressive.” A voice said, they were young whoever they were, a masculine voice that sounded like your typical dude-bro at the beach.

“Mm. Thanks.” N didn't have the energy to say anything else, thankfully he was quickly recovering.

Although he might recover faster if he could get a little bit of oil… he had brought it with him.

He put a hand in his pocket and fumbled with the container hidden there, the guy next to him continued speaking.

“N right? I'm Guy, I was the newest recruit before you. My time was 2:15.”

“Doesn't sound bad!” N replied, this guy was friendly at least, he could always get behind that.

He quickly took out his container and took a long gulp, the oil hitting his systems, immediately he felt better, his joints relaxing and his core settling, he sighed as he brought it away from his mouth, his long tongue coming to lick his lips from the access.

Huh… Guy had fallen real quiet all of the sudden

N looked back at the drone who'd been speaking to him, who's red eyes had gone hollow and his mouth slightly agape, N lifted an eyebrow before realizing why, he looked down at his container, slightly stained with oil, being quite obvious what was in it.

“Oh uh. Sorry… just started getting a little warm.” N tried to explain with a smile on his face, trying to be friendly but also succeeding in flashing his now oil-covered fangs.

Guy gulped.

“I-um yeah dude. N-no problem, guess you gotta kick the craving s-somehow.’

N looked confused for a moment.

“It's not really a craving, I just need it so I don't overheat.” He laughed nervously, sensing how tense the air had gotten. “Boiling in your own shell’s not fun.”

Guy was switching between curiosity and fear, tentatively, he seemed to choose between the two.

“What- what does it taste like?” He asked, still stammering but clearly not nearly as put off by it as before.

“The oil? Uh, sweet, this batch is a little earthy I guess, but that depends on where I get it from.”

The stuff in his container right now was actually from the nursery, it didn't taste nearly as metallic as oil from already living (or dead, he guessed) drones, instead having a more earthy, rounded taste.

He kinda preferred it honestly, plus, no one died for it.

“This is from the nursery, my girlfriend picked it up for me when she went for our daughter.”

Guy seemed to relax further.

“Oh, so it's not… you know?”

“N-no, I haven't killed anyone in… months.” He probably didn't need to add that last part, but he felt the need to defend himself, he really wished that people would stop looking at him and seeing… a monster. Even if he couldn't really blame them.

“Cool. Cool.” Guy replied awkwardly, before it seemed he had another question on his mind.

“How's that work?”

“How does what work?”

“You and a worker drone, is she like… pfft, okay?”

N… suddenly didn't like where this was going.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean, she's a worker drone right? Don't you have like… murdery instincts? Damn, if she can handle you, she's gotta be a freak in the sheets.”

N felt something white hot broil inside him until it's vitriol was bubbling in his throat, his hand twitched, and he just barely kept a feral growl from escaping his mouth.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about Uzi that way.” He said, dripping with politeness even as his tail was slowly coiling like a snake, ready to sting the nosy drone if he didn't leave soon.

“Oh shit! Doorman? Damn I knew she was a freak, just didn't know it went that deep!” Guy laughed, N's eye twitched.

Kill him!Kill him! He's a threat! Kill him!

No. No. Don't kill him, do not kill him, you don't like killing, he's not being threatening, he's just being gross.

You must protect them! He speaks of her like she is not yours, kill him! Before he becomes a threat to the kit, to Uzi!

He closed his eyes, clenching his fist before letting his anger roll out of his mouth. Even so he still vibrated with it, unable to truly let it all wash over him.

He'd never felt more angry in his life.

“Guy. Do not talk about her like that.” He was far more firm the second time, his tail was fully coiled, pointed directly at the drones jugular although he didn't seem to notice.

“Ah right. Sorry, sorry, shouldn't talk about another dude's girl like that. My bad.” Guy lifted both his hands, clearly trying to appease him, N would feel more appeased if the man left him alone, preferably on another planet it possible.

“Guy! Get your ass over here before the new guy snaps your neck!” Another member of the WDF called him over, before the man in a yellow hard hat and pink eyelights made his way over to him.

“Sorry, Guy doesn't know when to shut his servo. I'm Hal, what did he say to you that got you looking like murder?”

“I'd… rather not repeat it. He insulted my girlfriend.”

“Oooh, he's lucky it wasn't me, if he'da insulted Reida I woulda rung his scrawny neck.” The drone had a fake, but beautiful beard attached to his face, it was brown, along with is decently long hair.

“Reida?”

“My wife.”

“Ah.”

“Your names N right? or is that a nickname for something?” He asked, he was rather blunt, but nothing about the drone was threatening, he was a boxier, thicker worker model, betraying his age to be closer of that to Khan’s.

“It's Serial Designation N, technically, but just N please.”

“Righto! Glad to have ya! Khan’s talked a lot about you!” His hand came to slap roughly on N's back, it was strong enough to rock him forward slightly and send mud flying in all directions.

“Really?”

“Aye, er well, he's talked nonstop about his grandaughter, and you come up too.”

“That… makes more sense.”

“That means you're with his daughter right? Uzi?”

“That's her.”

“Guy better watch it then, if Khan hears that he's gonna blow a gasket. An so will I to be frank, that girl don't need anymore grief.”

N liked Hal more the longer he talked, he also sounded like a dwarf from one of those movies he and Uzi watched… Lord of the Rings?

“Thank you. I didn't actually want to hurt him.” N said, sighing, he wanted to cover his visor with his hands; but then he'd just get his visor smudgy.

“Yeah ya did.”

“Uh-”

“Don't sweat it kid. We've all been there. Though…”

“Hmm?”

“My Reida woulda kicked his ass first! Hah!”

Next ->

[unholyhelbig]

I for one would not mind more werewolf kate

Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [6/?]

Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.

Trigger warnings: Hunting, the actual werewolf transformation, restraints (hands, legs, neck), bloody & Gore, pet names, let me know if I've forgotten anything pls.

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]

[A/n: I was really fucking sad when I wrote this, and for that, I apoloigize. This isn't a gentle chapter, so please read with caution. And as always, I did not proof read].

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

A rot of leaves coated the forest floor, filling your lungs with an unsettling pungent scent. The world had blurred edges, somehow caving in on itself with each passing second. The trees whizzed past you, an ache that once covered your entire being had ebbed away the faster you ran.

There was such an intoxicating scent that led you blindly. It was floral and sweet and screamed above all the deteriorating vegetation. You’d run so far, so fast and without hesitation. What was that? You needed to sink your teeth into it, to taste it. You would simply die if you didn’t.

It was a girl. Yes. A girl.

She was running too, but not nearly with enough speed as you. She stumbled over fallen logs and branches dug into her skin. They created gashes of dripping red that made you salivate. She was cornered against a fence, fingers curling around the chain link.

You regarded her, taking a moment to register the hot pain in your chest. How far had you followed her? It was ways from home, you knew that much, but none of that seemed to matter. No- because she was right in front of you, and she was captivating.

In your excitement, you took a careful step forward and a small noise escaped her throat. Her eyes were frantic as she took in your hulking and animalistic stature. She was afraid, and part of you was too. Something had led you to her, to this sadistic chase that had cornered you both.

Her blood tasted sweet just like her scent. Your teeth crushed bone, tore through tendons with such a simple ease.

She was yours.

Sweat had soaked through your sheets and clung to your bare legs, even as you shot up and pulled in a helping of air. Your skin buzzed as if it were set ablaze with fever.  The waning moon cast a sickly pale light against the room. Your heart pounded ruthlessly against your chest.

That dream had left you antsy, and horrified. You never remembered your dreams but this one was vivid, almost like it was a memory. The coppery taste made your mouth dry. You were restless, wide awake despite the red numbers on the clock indicating that it was just past 3:00am.

You couldn’t hear anything through the walls that had been doubled down in strength despite your enhanced senses. The house was as good as silent, though you figured it statistically impossible for everyone to be asleep.

The hallway was dark compared to your room, filled with moonlight. You padded a few steps before you stopped in front of Kate’s door. It pained you to be here, begging for some type of comfort. The dream had left you rattled. Afraid.

It was getting closer to the full moon and your thoughts had been plagued with the pain that you’d read about so diligently. Scanning the inked words on a yellowing page was nothing compared to the experience of it all.

Swallowing your pride, you knocked twice, knowing that she could hear you. It took Kate a few moments to untangle herself from her blankets. You could pick up on her stumbling her way across her room until she swung the door open.

The girl tried to be suave, giving you a tired smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Her hair was sleep-worn and springing in various directions. She wore a pair of boxers with little purple arrows against the fabric and a tank top that was riding up enough to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach.

“Hi,” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, pulling your eyes from her muscular frame. Her cheeks were blooming with a fond pinkness. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were freezing, that the sweat you’d produced during the odd dream had dried taught against your skin. A shiver worked its way through you, and you crossed your arms over your midsection, trying to preserve what warmth you had left.

Kate lilted her head and stepped to the side without a second thought. She beaconed you into her room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the moon. Her comforter was drawn back, pillows scattered against her bed. She must have been engulfed in a deep and comfortable sleep, one that you had broken.

It helped, not being able to see the looming structure of the moon. It made you squirm, but the scent that engulfed you, the pure warmth of Kate’s mere presence, calmed your nerves. When she shut the door softly you knew that you were safe with her.

The wolf, that’s what Wanda had called it, knew what it wanted. She said that there was a blind trust that would flow through you with the girl that you’d crawled to and that feeling was only multiplying as the full moon got closer and closer.

“Don’t… say a word.” You turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.

Despite your warning, she smiled wolfishly at you, lifting both of her hands with an innocent shrug. She looked adorably miffed by exhaustion, and that thought annoyed you more than anything. God, you really should hate her. But she looked so warm, so accepting and every inch of your body was howling for her skin against yours.

Kate settled back into bed and peeled back the duvet with an expectant look on her face. Why were you fighting her so hard? Clearly, you were tired. You’d knocked on her door and you hadn’t done that without reason. If you wanted conversation, you would have found Peter and interrupted his late night gaming.

Or maybe even Natasha who couldn’t sleep, just like you. But you did value your life, just a little bit. So Kate it was, a magnet that drew you in. The more exhausted you got, the harder it was to pull away. And really- she had been trying. Right?

Almost as if on instinct, you took her up on her offer and slid into the encompassing warmth of the duvet. There was the scent of lavender, of freshly washed sheets and the metallic breath that she drew in, almost as if she was just as shocked as you were at the action.

Kate cautiously lowered the blanket and the two of you stared at the little glowing stars on her ceiling. You hadn’t seen them since the fifth grade. America didn’t’ have the deep green celestial patterns, but instead a garden of pulsing orange and purple, and yellow flowers.

You could feel the heat of Kate’s shoulder close to yours. You were so cold, even under the blankets and she seemed like the only source of comfort from the dream that lingered so heavily on your mind.

“Do you think…”

The words died in your throat. She turned her head to face you, and after a few moments of building up the courage you turned your cheek against the pillow too, staring into a cloudy grey stare that was marred with sleep, pockmarked with questions.

“Will I ever be able to see them again?” your voice was pinched with emotion. It was fear, the both of you recognized it. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stop it from trembling. You felt emotion well up in your own chest. “I know things will never be normal again, but do you think there’s a chance?”

Kate swallowed the thickness in her throat, voice barely a whisper. “I do.”

You nodded and dislodged the tears that were fighting for dominance. Kate didn’t’ hesitate to reach up and wipe them away with her gentle touch. Her thumb was calloused, but soft. A whimper escaped you as you leaned into her touch. Kate shivered at the contact herself.

“I get why I’m here and I’m grateful for it. The last thing I want to do…” you trained off, listening to the shuttered sound of her breathing. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever.”

“You won’t, y/n.”

The immediacy of her statement brought you comfort. It wasn’t necessarily a reflex, but a belief that she felt deep in her core. You clenched your eyes shut and scooted closer until you felt the full effect of Kate’s presence.

The movements were gentle as you slotted yourself against her, hand laying on her stomach and moving over the softness of her shirt. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively wrapping her arm around you. You pressed your nose against the naïve of her neck, slick with tears of her own.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She quivered with guilt.

You were starting to understand, against your better judgement, why this had happened. Kate found you for a reason, and that tension, that discomfort, that was your wolf fighting for a way to get to her. And you had.

The tears that wet her shirt, the ones that coated your cheeks, they were those of relief. You curled into Kate, taking in her scent, the two of you gripping onto each other like a vice, eventually drifting towards a fitful sleep, shadowed by stars.

There was no such thing as privacy in a house with eleven people. Not when so many of them had a strict regimen of exercise, and healthy eating. There was a stark difference from life at the dorm where people rarely arose before twelve in the afternoon unless they had class, and even that was a gamble.

Instead, you stirred to the sound of a blender and the hushed voices of an indiscernible conversation. That was followed by a very discernible sound of a cell phone camera. Even without advanced hearing, you clocked it in moments.

A small groan escaped you. It was much too early to wake up. You had never been more comfortable in your life, your nose pressed flush against the crook of Kate’s neck. She shifted in her sleep, pulling you closer with an adorably tiny breath.

“Go away,” she grumbled, the words vibrating against your palm.

 You tightened your grip on the fabric of her shirt. God, it was so bright. They’d pulled the curtains back and the sun was in full force. Despite the comfort, there was no way you’d drift back into sleep. That fact alone was solidified when you bolted up at the clearing of someone’s throat.

An odd hurriedness shot through your spine, forehead knocking against Kate’s chin and leaving a throbbing spot in its wake. The girl that was under you let out another small noise at the back of her throat, rubbing her jaw while depriving the world of her stormy stare.

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe of Kate’s bedroom. Wanda had been very clear about the rank in the house, and it was of no shock to you that Natasha was pretty high up there. It was why her simple sound of alert had made your entire body tingle. You knew- your wolf knew- that she was in charge, and that she was there for you.

“I checked your room first,” She stated matter-of-factly. “Obviously, you weren’t there.”

Your cheeks reddened at the predicament you’d found yourself in, and the fact that you were sure you’d heard the click of a cell phone camera. It was almost like your parents walking in on a sleepover that got a little too cozy.

Kate sat up groggily, testing her jaw a few times, “Good morning, Nat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You can go back to sleep. I’m here for y/n. We’re going on a run.”

The wary look you got from the girl in bed next to you wasn’t exactly easing your nerves. She must have gone through this before, and she would truly object if she thought it was something you couldn’t handle. Instead, her hand found yours under the safety of the duvet and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

You knew better than to object to Natasha, so you followed her orders and changed into the closest thing to workout clothes that you’d packed; a pair of royal blue gym shorts and a t-shirt that was from your last trip to the west coast. Sun, fun, and Sand.

She waited by the edge of the front yard, lifting a perfectly sculpted brow at the shirt, but didn’t say anything in acknowledgment. “We’ll do six miles up, and six miles back.”

“Up?” You squeaked out, finally earning a genuine grin from her. She started to jog ahead of you, and it took you a few moments to register that you were meant to follow her. “Back?”

The two of you kept a steady pace under the heavy hand of the sun. You felt sweat slick the back of your neck, legs screaming out in protest. You weren’t much of a runner, and had admittedly eaten one too many boxes of instant mac and cheese. But your body seemed to mold to the pace with no problem. Your muscles strained for just a moment before relaxing into he burn.

“I’m sure you’ve heard from everyone in the house how they handle a full moon.”

“No, actually,” You panted out, “everyone seems to be keeping their distance.”

“We haven’t had anyone new join our pack for years. Certainly, never this violently. Can you blame them?”

No, you really couldn’t’. They had all been so welcoming and understanding. Even Kate to a certain degree. None of that eased the fear and you figured it wouldn’t’ until you actually lived it, until every single bone in your body rebroke and reshaped until you were this insatiable creature that would seek nothing but blood and carnage. It was inside of you now, you felt it just below the surface, and that terrified you.

Your chest was beginning to burn viciously, but Natasha was showing no intention of slowing down. There was an odd need within you to please her, to make sure that you kept up with her pace despite how hard it was getting as the slight incline became a little less slight.

The woods had thickened around you both and you let out a relieved breath when she trotted to a stop on the dirt trail. The collar of your shirt was damp, and you pulled your arms behind your head to fill your lungs with more sticky air. Natasha smiled fondly at you.

“Kate tapped out about three miles back.”

“This some sort of test?” You asked, working your hand through your hair.

“A test, a tactic. Whatever you want to call it. Some of us believe that if you wear yourself out before a transition, it’ll be less excruciating on the day.”

“I read about that the other day, though, they didn’t use the word excruciating.”

“That’s what it is. Don’t let anyone sugar coat it for you, kid. It’s going to hurt and you’re going to feel every second of it.”

You plopped down on a fallen log, pressing your fingertips to your temples. You clenched your eyes shut and felt your heartbeat pulse through your entire body. Never in a million years would you figure you’d be here. Natasha’s scent strengthened when she gave your shoulder a squeeze, prompting your eyes to open.

She was rimmed in the early morning sun, ringlets of russet hair fell over her shoulders. “Come on, I didn’t make you run all the way out here for the hell of it. I want to show you something.”

Before you could object, she started down the path again, this time in a brisk walk. You let out a groan and hauled yourself off the log. When you got to where she had been, you saw nothing but a thick wall of greenery and wood. Natasha was nowhere in sight.

You closed your eyes and tried to pick up the scent of her, the detergent and the lavender and the sandalwood. Upon your second inhale, you picked up in a general direction and frowned. This was all too surreal, you were physically sniffing out a near-stranger that had led you deep into the woods.

Still, you felt a blind trust as you went off the path and continued to track her down. She was about thirty feet into the woods, standing over a pile of leaves, arms crossed over her chest. You felt yourself warm at the proud half-smile she gave you.

When you reached her, Natasha knelt and pushed back the mix of muck and leaves. It revealed two metal doors that reminded you of a summer you spent with your aunt in Alabama. It was unbelievably hot and muggy, and they had a storm shelter that was carved from the earth, the walls damp and stocked with different canned food, though you had never seen a can opener. You didn’t think to bring it up as the two of you huddled close and listened to the howling wind and rain.

“This was a long-game murder plot all along, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not into the long-game.”

Her words weren’t exactly encouraging. The hinges of the doors screamed loudly from disuse and a musty scent washed cruelly over the both of you. Your nose scrunched and Natasha grimaced but didn’t say a word. An automatic light buzzed on, allowing you to see the opened space below.

It was exactly like the storm cellar, and it’s cool interior was a brief solace from the heat of the day. There was a divide a few steps into the space, a steel wall with a door in the center, sloppily welded but with enough strength to stop a beast the size of a mid-sized Sudan.

This door creaked too, and Natasha let it linger open for a moment, staring softly at you, and then back at the room. There was safety in her stance. You knew that she had the full ability to slam it shut and lock you in, but had a deep realization that she wouldn’t.

Another light was on the ceiling, casting a circle of deep yellow. There was a deep smell of dust and dirt, but there was something hard and metallic under that. Your eyes darted to the chains that were attached to the wall, large iron things that were screwed into extra support.

More than that, were the stretching claw marks that pockmarked the walls. They went deep, past the dirt and into the cement. The pads of your fingers ran over the one closest to you. Each mark stretched further than your touch. Chills shot up to your elbow, a breath lodging itself into your throat.

Your other hand clenched your stomach, digging into your ribs. Something significant had happened here. Several significant things. Tears started to form against your eyes and the worst part was, you had no idea why.

“Those are Steves,” she said quietly, joining you within the confines of the cell, lifting her chin to another set of marks. “And Tonys.”

There were dozens of markings, all different shapes and sizes. Some were digging into the clay walls, and the floors. There were distinct scent markings on each one and you found yourself able to identify ones that belonged to Yelena, and Peter, and even Bruce. They’d all changed here at least once.

Natasha crossed the room and shifted the door until it was only slightly ajar. You straightened up, heart pulling against your throat. The door was minced with deep slashes. You shoved your hands into your pockets to keep them from trembling. They almost ached.

“You feel something, don’t you?”

Words didn’t form, couldn’t. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion that tore through you. It was akin to longing, but it was more than that. It was like the creature that was so restless within you wanted nothing more than to claw its way out and find the person who had made those marks. They were desperate and sad, and horrifying.

You closed the distance between them and pressed your touch against the deep gashes and fought back a pained cry. You dug your teeth into the back of your free hand to quell it, but a pathetic sound still escaped you.  

“Kate knew that something was wrong a few months before she escaped. She was experienced, knew as much as one could know about their wolf. But there was an unrest”

“She doesn’t like places like this.”

Your words were small. You remembered what she had told you, about how she had turned the first time alone and, in a room very similar to this one. You got the stark impression that she would never want to do something like that again. So, it begs the question of why these marks were so fresh. So fearful.

“No, she doesn’t. They scare her, make her panic before the moon has any effect. But she was conscious enough to know that if she wasn’t here, then she would end up hurting someone. It just proved not to be strong enough of a failsafe.”

Kate had felt an unrest weeks, maybe months, before she had escaped and sunk her teeth into your flesh. A wash of guilt pulled at you. You’d been giving her such a hard time, pestering her and fighting her every step of the way. She’d been in immense pain.

When the pads of your fingers touched the scratches, you felt only a fraction of the longing she must have. Grimacing, you turned away, crossing your arms over your stomach to shield you from the reality of your harshness.

You needed Kate.

“Is this where I’ll be tonight?” You asked, so softly Natasha almost didn’t’ hear it.

She nodded in response, the silence mulling between you both. A small breath escaped you, pained and held within your lungs for an abnormal amount of time. You crossed the room, picked up one of the leaden chains and weighed it against your own strength.

“I can be here with you, if you’d like.” Natasha said, filling the quiet “Or if you’d rather Steve… Wanda.”

You turned to face her, grip tightening on the chain. “Kate?”

“Kate.”

Her eyes were no longer shrouded in their silver, sullen beauty. As the sun began its descent, there was a strange tangerine glow that overtook them. It started at the center of her pupil, small whisps of neon color, and then started to ebb into the confines of her iris.  

You focused on them. If you thought too much about the days leading up to this transformation, then you would work yourself into a panic. You were taking things one at a time today, and that included jogging back to the compound and shyly admitting to Kate that she was the only one you wished to have in your vicinity tonight.

Though, you hadn’t thought much about the logistics. The two of you trapped in a single cell. Yelena had walked all the way out here, keeping a silent eye on the tension that lingered against both of your frames. It wore your stance down, mind racing with the ‘what if’s’.

“Once I close this door, neither of you will be released until daybreak.” Her thick accent carried a sharp edge to it that made this finite. “There is an emergency radio, Kate knows where it is.”

They’d thought of everything, really. Yelena had handed over a sheathe of needles and a small vile that you knew had to be tranquilizer. It smelled acidic and nitrate in nature. Even your rational, human side, cringed away from it.

With a final nod that conveyed good luck, and a strong, ‘I’m rooting for you,’ Yelena exited the cell and slammed the metal door behind her. From there, she retreated, and another lock was put into place after she’d slithered a coil of chain around the outside doors. Your heart picked-up it’s pace, never one for confined spaces.

Kate seemed to hear the uptake and closed the distance between the both of you. One hand found your waist and you allowed her to give it a reassuring squeeze. The other cupped your cheek, guiding your stare. “Hey, listen to me. I know this is scary, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You believed her partially because you had no other choice. Her eyes were mostly orange now, glowing enough to cast a strange shadow against her face. You wondered dumbly if yours would do the same. Something was boiling inside of you, making your entire body sweat. It felt like you were in a sauna, breathing in the hot steam after water was poured listlessly over black coals.

“I’ll talk you through everything, until neither of us can talk. Then we won’t have to.”

“Okay, alright. That sounds good.”

She nodded at you and began to unzip her sweatshirt until the teeth of the zipper released their hold. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, stretchy material that hadn’t set her back too much financially. They would be torn to shreds by the end of the night, regardless.

Kate’s stomach was toned. It was tanned and showed all the stamina of a beast. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long, tried to ignore the small trail of hair that dipped below her waistband. Despite herself, Kate smiled at you cockily, but moved her hands to your own jacket.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed the dry metal taste in your mouth. “I don’t think my fingers will cooperate right now.”

 She let out a small noise in response and pulled your jacket from your shoulders, leaving you in much of the same. She’d promised earlier that the two of you would go out and get clothes that you were more comfortable in, but this suited you just fine. Her pupils dilated, rushing them in more sherbet color. A stuttered breath escaping her and fanning against your bare collarbone.

“What? Oh my god, is it starting?”

You didn’t feel any different, still extremely hot to the touch and a little riled up after getting a look at Kate’s mostly-bare form. Color petaled her cheeks. She was actually blushing. Even in the dim lighting of the cell, that much was clear.

“No, no. You’re just…” She shook her head, trying to clear it “really beautiful, is all.”

“Oh,”

More blush, her eyes slipping down to the floor. “Yeah. I should probably get you secured, though. It’ll be more comfortable to sit.”

You understood exactly what she meant. Your heart was thrumming through your entire body at the compliment, though you both welcomed the distraction of a task. This task was securing locks around your wrists, and your ankles. Large iron things that could stop a lion. They were bolted into cement, digging into the foundation.

You kept your back against the damp wall, allowing Kate to fiddle with the mass of restraints. She fastened the first cuff on your wrist and looked at you expectantly. “Is this too tight? We want it to be a little loose. You’ll fill out when the transformation is done.”

“It’s alright,”

Kate diligently fastened the other three; one more around your opposite wrist, and two around your ankles. The only thing left was a chain that was intended to click smugly around your throat. She stared at it warily, eyes meeting yours.

“This one isn’t comfortable, and after tonight, you won’t need it.” She stated, using her hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes. Something was coiling in your stomach now, an unrest. A parasite that seemed to want to bubble out of your chest. “Your body will be in fight or flight mode. All of your senses will be heightened more than they are now and you’ll want to get out of these.”

“And if I do?”

“If you do, you’ll have to go through me.”

She fastened the chain around your neck, listening for the heady click. Just like the others, she adjusted and pulled on it until she was satisfied with your capture. A slight noise pushed past your lips. It felt like you had a stomachache, a cramping that would send you straight to a heating pad on any other day.

“I know, baby.” She soothed, the pet name slipping past her. She frowned, then lightened her stare. “I know it hurts. I’m right here. I’m with you.”

Her words soothed you. She backed up and sat cross-legged in front of you. There was an admiration of her control. Sweat prickled against her upper lip and at her hairline. It was an indication that you weren’t alone in this. Though, Kate Bishop had more practice, pain was eternal.

“You said I’d have to go through you,” your words were trembling. It took a few moments to force them into existence, but Kate was patient. Your legs and arms were starting to ache, just a dull thrum that reminded you of destroying your muscles to wick them back together again. “What… did you mean?”

Kate smiled and you swore her teeth were pointed at the end. Your vison was starting to blur, and you blinked away tears that dripped from your chin. “We’re not going to fight, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think our wolves- well, I think they’ll get along just fine.”

“Kate Bishop, are you insinuating something?”

“Me? No. Never.”

She let out a grunt, her hand going to her ribcage. There was a dull pop that jolted through her body and you clenched your eyes shut for a moment. Not wanting to see her in pain. Not wanting to see what was next for you.

You didn’t have to wait long. The pressure started to build in your forearm first, a tight pain that shot from your fingers all the way to your elbow. Almost as if your bone was straining against itself, and it was. The crack and splinter of it threw you off your balance with a dizzying amount of discomfort.

A scream tore through your throat, toes digging into the soft, damp floor. Kate let out another grunt of discomfort, dropping her elbow to the ground. Her chest was heaving, pulling air in greedily before releasing as if she never wanted it in the first place. Her efforts were punctuated by a deep and primal growl that took you back to the night in the forest.

All of your limbs were tightening now, two pops from your ribs and an extra one in your ankle. You were doubled over in a blind torment. Your cheek was pressed to the ground, the scent of dirt filling your senses. There was blood here too, so thick and potent that it was if it gurgled against your own tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard her through your own strangled cries of pain. Her voice deep and words miffed by the growing teeth pressing against her gums. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck!” You cried out, the last bit of human semblance you could form. Your own words were minced with agonizing cries and a rumble from the center of your chest that sounded anything but human. It was feral. It was hungry.

Your vison pulsed around the edges, darkness creeping in. You shakily lifted your hand, watched as your flesh became shrouded with gore. It was shredded, dark gray fur sprouting over your knuckles as your skin fell away entirely. Once human nails had been replaced by claws, dripping with your own blood and muscle tissue.

They shined as if you had been baptized once more. Teeth- your own teeth, filled your mouth as they were pushed out to welcome new ones. You’d spit them to the ground, relished in the sweet taste of the blood that filled your mouth, only for you to spit again.

There was a howl, one distant that made your entire body stiffen under its command. You weren’t wailing anymore, and neither was Kate. The two of you had silenced, breathed hard and tried to find your bearings. Your collarbone widened, seemed to stretch like the rest of you. The restraints were tightening as you grew. As you changed.

Another howl cut through the air, this time you had the urge to answer with one of your own. At least, that was the last humane thought you had, before everything went black.

[inexplicifics]

So I read the ask about historical fashion and I too love clothing and it got me thinking. Witchers are in my mind at least, both fairly minimalist and asteere, in large part due to their enhanced senses. But also very practical, as a function of, in many cases, life times on the road, with minimal time and resources to spend on anything frivolous.

(This is why the canon armour spikes drive me up the wall. Like the studs in the Netflix costumes make sense, they provide extra strength and tiny spots of extra protection, and are reasonably easy to repair. Spikes are not the same. You can hammer in a stud on any reasonably flat rock. To hammer in a spike you need a special heavy metal tool to hold it in place. And what do the spikes gain you? A tiny scratch, on a handful of monsters not covered in think hide or scales? No. No self respecting witcher is wearing spiked armour. I will die on this hill. Anyway...)

So, witchers, asteere and practical. What if, as the previous anon pointed out, with the new team patrols they start bringing back more monster parts to experiment with. And, they realise, oh wyrvn scales are like the next step up from chain mail. Hard and flexible but way lighter and slightly magicly resistant. And kikimora hide is basically natural oiled leather, you can wipe blood and guts off it with a cloth and they just slosh off. Plus the smoothness is pleasant on witcher sensitive skin.

I could go on and on. But they basically take all these parts and start outfitting themselves in them because they have practical applications. Then the nobels follow them, but without the background knowledge. So they pick the silly parts out, like eyeballs and teeth and who knows what, that have no practical purpose. So you can tell, subtly, who's truly and ally, by if their clothing understands the underlying properties of the monster parts or if they're just there for show.

On an unrelated note. I'm imagining how confusing it would be to try and copy the Kear Morhen royalty's 'fashion' when it consists of Gerald and Eskel, typical all black witchers, and Jaskier, bright, colourful, shiny birb. Truly, what does one do with such extreme options.

I love commentary like this; I have no background in fashion myself, and I adore having people who know more providing so much depth and breadth to the idea!

Witchers snickering at humans who have the Expensive rather than the Useful parts of monsters as accessories is a great mental image.

And yes, "Kaer Morhen fashion" is a little...uh...confusing to outsiders. Do you wear all black to honor the Warlord? Do you wear - uh - entire rainbows to imitate the Consort? Help!

[muffinsin]

you know, i don’t think i’ve seen anyone request G!P dimi girls bottoming. can we get some pegging content? and cock ring/cage too, perhaps? if you think any of them would be into that

ps, daniela request was fucking awesome <3 sorry for the late praise

- 🐺

Of course! I can’t see any of them being into cock cages for fun, but cock rings? Absolutely!👀😚

Very glad you enjoyed the Daniela one! Thanks hon :)

Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Bela

Her breathing is laboured, her chest heaving. She whimpers helplessly for you, just the way you like it.

“Please, Mommy”, she gasps with yet another thrust inside of her. She’s tight and warm, and feels so sensitive to your touch. It’s adorable to see the strong, eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu mewl and beg under you, her cock twitching and drooling as you’re buried deep within her tight hole.

“I think you can do better than that, Bela”, you coo back, a hand stroking her cock while the other arm is slung around her to keep her in place. She’s bent forwards for you, her legs weak the moment from you pushed inside of her.

A blush rises to her cheeks when precum drools out of her and runs down your finger, its colour matching the red cock ring put on her and her balls. You’re stroking her so fast and erotically, squeezing and stroking, paying extra attention to her overly sensitive tip. She feels right on the edge.

“Please fuck me, Mommy. Please let me cum”, she begs instead, entirely too pent up after being fucked by you/your strap for what must’ve been ages to her. Her entire body feels as if on fire, her senses as if enhanced and dulled at the same time. Golden eyes struggle to keep open as pleasure nearly overwhelms her at your next thrusts.

“Hmmmn. Y-Yes! Fuck, please!”

Your chuckle is low in her ear, her blonde, messy hair tickling your face. It’s uncommon you can make the tidy and proper Bela Dimitrescu curse.

Her cock is throbbing in your hand. A shaky, pale hand rises to your arm, gripping it tightly. She gasps sweetly with every thrust into her, her cock twitching in your hand as you stroke it.

“YAAH! A-Ahh!”, she gasps at a particularly fast and deep thrust of your hips inside of her. Her cheeks slap against yours with every little move inside of her, her inner walls gripping you tightly.

She blushes as her body is rocked forwards helplessly, her chest pushing up against your arm and her full breasts bouncing in the air. The room smells of sex, but she doesn’t mind.

“Good girl, now show me just how needy you are”, comes a coo whispered in hear ear. The poor thing is so close to her orgasm, shivering and twitching. She whimpers when her neck is nibbled on, and sticks her tongue out eagerly, panting openly as she is fucked into yet another orgasm.

Cassandra

“Ple-…, please…!”

Cassandra croaks out moans and phrases desperately, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She shrieks as your hand tightens around her throat and the vibrations of the black cock ring merely increase.

You pull her down, her face against your chest as she bends for you, her warm breath tickling your skin. She attempts to speak when with her throat squeezed, gasping out incoherent words that likely merely translate to her begging you to cum again.

The poor thing shakes in your grasp, orgasm after orgasm torn from her for hours already to reduce the brat to nothing but a helpless toy of yours, cumming over and over again onto your stomach, her ass stretched around you as she is fucked sore.

She yearns to come in your mouth, at least. You don’t grant her this, a punishment fit after having to discipline the brat all day.

“Do you like this, Cass? You’ve been so damn needy for an orgasm, after all”, you speak lowly, your eyes taking in her trembling form. It’s a surprise she even still has the strength to keep riding you.

She shivers and moans, head nodding fast despite how overstimulated she feels. You promised her, you would not be done until her balls are emptied for you.

“Good bunny, now bounce for me”

Her brown hair falls down her shoulders and back beautifully as she obeys, the brat in her throughout fucked out of her; at least for the time being. No doubt will the woman act out again soon enough, as if eager for the punishment that will await her.

Her neck shimmers with a fine layer of sweat, her eyes sting with tears of overstimulation and the need to breathe. She feels herself right on the edge.

Using your hold on her throat you pull her closer to you yet again, making her arch her back a little lower while you thrust up inside of her. “You look beautiful like this. Oh Cassandra, it makes me want to push you even more”

Your words make her roll her eyes to the back of her head, lips falling apart as her mouth drops open. She’s panting, her cock twitching in your hand.

You stroke up and down her base first, where the cock ring sits snugly, then all the way up to the tip. She’s trembling and moaning, lips and mouth nearly completely dry as she pants.

At last, she is given another orgasm that makes her hips jerk forwards and has your chest shimmering in her thick cum.

“N-NoAAAA-AAH!” She shrieks when the vibrations merely pick up and she is shifted to her hands and knees, ready to be taken properly and roughly, just the way she likes it.

Daniela

You smile at her loud giggles of joy as you push yourself inside of her, your hands fluttering across her chest before they cup her large breasts.

They nearly spill from her bra as you do so, the only item she is still wearing. “You like that, princess?”, you ask all too happily, smiling down at the blushing redhead. She’s grinning gleefully, her legs spreading wider for you.

With her hands bound to the bed posts and her clothing removed, she’s more than eager to feel you in her.

“Yes, my love!”, she confirms joyfully. Her lip is caught between her sharp teeth as her bra is tugged away and your hands grope properly. A heated blush covers her cheeks when you move your hips and thrust at last, drawing moans and gasps from your lover.

She’s been an exceptionally good girl during the past week, taking her edgings punishments without as much as a demand. Both of you know, it is time you reward such good behaviour.

Her head spins, her eyes closing contentedly when you grip her hips and thrust properly. “Mghmmmm, yes, yes!”, she cheers, grinning and moaning her approvals.

Daniela giggles breathlessly at the feeling of the cock ring against her skin. She’s so needy with the pressure it provides her cock and balls, her blush merely increasing when you lean forward and capture her lips in yours. “You look simply ravishing, my sweet”

You know her body, completely, and eagerly target her most sensitive spots. In return, you are rewarded with a vast amount of moans and gasps, mewls of pleasure and little, breathless praises that fall from dark painted lips.

She hooks her legs around you, urging you to thrust deeper, and you gladly comply.

She smiles widely as she feels her orgasm approaching fast after a week of denial, a week of being brought so close merely to have her orgasm ripped from her a second before she could have it. Not this time.

Daniela’s head pushes back against the pillows when she feels your hand slide between her legs already, taking a hold of her curved cock and jerking her off eagerly. She knows this is an occasion where she will come often, and fast, and is all too eager for it.

Daniela feels her body be pushed up and down with each rough thrust into her, her neck bared for you to see as she lets her head fall back into the pillows entirely, her eyes closed and thighs trembling.

At last, sweet release is given to her.

Her body responds to the pleasure given to her and her slim back arches, cum shooting against your front as she orgasms at last.

A sweet giggle is dragged from her parted lips when you squeeze her hips, a silent praise and reassurance that she would get more.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Don't know if this is your thing but attempting some mind control? >:)

This ended up more about vampires than mind control but it's there lol.

TW: Vampire, manhandling, thrall/mind control, threat of eye whump (doesn't happen)

The vampire knocked a few times on their present’s room. A courtesy gesture really. Mostly to warn them as they opened the door and entered. 

Whumpee still jumped, as far from the door as they could be. “I didn’t invite you in, how can you be here?” They asked tiredly, faced away from their captor.

“Delight, this is my house. I need no permission to enter my own rooms.” 

Whumpee stiffened, but didn’t turn around. 

The vampire sighed. “I have some friends downstairs who are simply dying to meet you. Won’t you come willingly? It’s not as if this is new to you.” 

No response, no movement from the poor unfortunate human in the room. Faster than could be registered, the vampire was across the room, human pinned to the wall from their inhuman strength. Whumpee tried unsuccessfully to pull away, squirming and holding their eyes tightly closed.

It was always both satisfying and tempting to feel the human’s heartbeat under the vampire’s palm. The warmth of life might be gone from their body but their senses had been enhanced beyond all imagination. The simple fact they didn’t eviscerate every prey they fed from was a testament to their skill. 

The vampire tsked, lightly dragging their sharpened fingers down whumpee’s cheek. “Now now Delight, you know how I despise it when you act petulant. Open those eyes, if you won’t obey of your own accord.” 

The human knew the vampire was right. They weren’t new to this. But all the same, they fought it. Refused to give in. Refused to simply lie down and allow the bloodsucker to make them their little pet. Even through their vulnerable trembles, whumpee kept their eyes closed. 

A dark growl reverberated through their body. Whumpee’s reaction was far from beyond their control; a deep instinct, encouraged by pain and suffering that lingered long after they were returned limp to their room. They knew what was coming but even then couldn’t let go. 

“Open your eyes,” the vampire ground out again, claws digging into Whumpee’s hair and pulling on their tender scalp. 

“If you keep them closed, my friends and I will cut your eyelids out.” 

Whumpee shook. They knew they had been pushing their luck, knew their captor wouldn’t entertain their behavior forever. 

As a little piece of them died, they opened their eyes. 

It wasn’t but a moment later everything grew dream-like. The colors stronger, everything sharper, but the world also a bit further away. Less important. Less real.  

“There,” purred the vampire, stroking Whumpee’s face and basking in the way they leaned into it. “Isn’t that better? More freeing? Safer?” 

“Yes, Master,” Whumpee muttered sleepily, more than happy to follow the vampire down the hall and stairs to the inevitable grabbing of skin and gnashing of teeth that would leave them weaker still, until nothing was left.