#it was really like. i just had the idea for the first picture. then the first panel. then the second. then was like. hm maybe one more

[babydoll372]

Creeper

Pairings: stalker!wanda maximoff x reader

Word count: 1945

Warnings: wanda is really creepy, filming without permission, photo taking without permission, masturbation (r), nude videos, degradation, slight humiliation kink, stalking, obsessive behavior

Some may call Wanda a stalker, some may call her absurd and obsessive, but all she did was embrace her passions. She adored photography, she loved sketching too, but most importantly, she worshiped the very idea of you, and what better way to spend her days than to combine all three? You didn’t know her well, Wanda liked to believe you did but truthfully you barely even knew her first name. The two of you shared an art class at your college, but that was it. What did you know about Wanda? Nothing. What did she know about you? Everything from your name to your home layout.

While at a community college, you lived with your parents in the home that you grew up in, just like Wanda did. Except you two lived five towns away from each other, but she didn’t care, she drove out every single evening to ensure she caught sight of you. When you were sleeping, she’d either ascend into your bedroom and take photos, or she’d linger outside your window and do the same. She had a box beneath her bed at home complete with captivating love notes she wrote to you without ever sending. Photos, artwork, envisions for your future, and so on filled this box. There was no distrust in Wanda’s mind, she had to have you.

She planned her arrival to class that next day, following you from a distance so she could get to class at precisely the correct time to sit next to you. That way she could finally talk to you or simply look at you closer up. Today you were wearing jeans and a cardigan, she couldn’t blame you considering the more frigid fall weather. At one point you removed the cardigan to reveal a plain white t-shirt that was tucked into your pants, making her bite her lip as she obscured her phone by her leg to take a picture and then feigned to use the device to text someone when in reality she was staring shamelessly at you. She had to ask to use the restroom merely to get a breather, and once she returned she vowed to herself that in the next forty-three minutes left, she would muster up the courage to at least emit a word to you. And twelve minutes later, she did.

“That looks really good.” She shyly confessed, peeking at your artwork. If anyone else saw it they’d think it was mundane, but it came from you; it was a jewel to Wanda. You looked over and beamed at her, and the woman swore she nearly fell over in her stool at the way your teeth were just barely detectable, your lips flawlessly plump, and your eyes ostensibly gleaming in line with hers.

“Thank you! What are you making?” There was now a flow of dialogue, just what Wanda needed. She tinkered with her paintbrush as you leaned over a bit to look, and she could get the remotest whiff of your perfume. She didn’t know how to describe what she was making without sounding insane, without telling you the entangled bodies she was painting were meant to resemble what her mind pictured most periods out of the day with you.

“Oh, uh, it- it’s..it’s meant to be a symbol of love between two, uhm..two women..” She tested the waters, wanting to see how you reacted to that information.

“Wow, I would’ve never thought of something like that…can I take a photo once you’re done?” She blushed, quickly bobbing her head in a form of agreement as she truly presumed she saw you look her up and down out of the corner of her eye. You must have, she knew there was a connection between you two.

That night Wanda again left with her camera, setting up in the bushes near your bedroom very uncomfortably, but none of that matters when she witnesses your body via your window. Your room faced layers of woods, trees were the only things that could be found for miles, you thought you didn’t have anything to worry about besides possibly an animal seeing you, which you couldn’t care less about. Little did you know the girl you just spoke to for the first time today was what you had to look out for. She snapped hundreds - thousands of photos as you undressed and got into pajamas. She then watched as you reached into your drawer, grabbing an item you held close to your palm. She furrowed her brows in confusion, observing you set up your laptop as you lay comfortably on your bed and lowered your shorts, displaying a bullet vibrator to be the culprit. She quickly turned the camera on record and didn’t move for the next half an hour as she watched you grow frustrated from a lack of orgasm, and ultimately give up. She was a bit disappointed to not see you reach that stage, yet it only fueled her desire to assist you in getting there.

Her drive was full, all of these photos being transported into the printer for her to store in her secretive box, and the videotape for her to keep in an album in her computer software. She had an entire album dedicated to videos of you - photos too, nothing could be put past her.

On the coming Monday in her art class, she had never been more elated to see you. The prior week the Professor informed the class that the next project would be paired, involving a sketched design between two people, and she had been preparing herself to ask you. She went out and bought some of the perfumes she saw on your nightstand in hopes you’d identify the scent and be lured to her, and she brushed her teeth four times this morning to ensure you weren’t turned off by a foul breath.

“Hey, Y/N!” She internally cursed herself, remembering last class she didn’t ask for your name. She hoped you’d pass it off and, surprisingly, you did. “Do you have a partner yet for the assignment? T-the paired one?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. Do you want to be mine?” You asked with a lifted brow and a slight grin, and for a moment she felt like you could read her every thought; she felt skittish but yet thankful.

“I’d love to! Uhm, maybe we could work on it outside of school? You know, to make sure we don’t fall behind..” She heard a tiny chuckle from you and feared the worst, clasping her lips together as she was ready for rejection.

“Yeah, whatever you think will help us pass. Any day works for me, we’ll go to my place, okay?” She didn’t challenge you for one second, and that proved to be the right move when a few days later she was actually walking into your house in broad daylight for the first time. This time, you were awake, fully conscious, and aware of her presence. She met your parents briefly, ate the food they made, and even went into your room with you - the same room she watched you masturbate in a few nights ago. She couldn’t help but glance at the bed and wonder what else you had done before. Wanda rested her laptop on the soft mattress as she sat alongside you, the two of you pondering between different concepts for the design.

"Can we use your laptop? Mine's dead and charging it will take forever." You groaned at just the reminder alone of the lack of battery you had, and Wanda agreed, although uncertain as she opened the screen and quickly closed all tabs beside one. She held her tightening bladder while you sat next to her, simply just to feel your arm barely grazing against hers, long enough for you two to find the ideal reference. She finally asked to use your restroom and instructed you on how to save the photo. As she left the room you skimmed the 'recent' section of her files to find it, only to click on the wrong PDF. Your eyes widened as you found a photo of you taken from outside of your room, your breasts on display as you were stretching a shirt over your arms. You glanced up to ensure Wanda was still in the bathroom directly across from your bedroom before clicking to the next image, and the next, and the next. Then came a video. You remembered the exact moment recorded, it came from just the other night. When your project partner came back in, her small voice sounded out as she closed the door behind her.

"Did you figure out how to save it?" She sat back down with a small plop, glimpsing over to eye the screen only to quickly haul it away when she recognized what was on it. She was standing again, holding her laptop close to her as her pupils were blown in shock behind her glasses, her face reddened. "I- I can explain, I swear!" She proclaimed, yet nothing followed it. She heard your scoff and lowered her head, ready to be scolded and forced to leave, reasonably so.

"You dirty little perv...I would've never suspected such a sweet girl to be so nasty." She swallowed shakily, slowly peeking back up at you when she saw your body move to be mere inches away from her.

"I really am sorry, you were never meant to find this." She mewled, wiping one of her eyes quickly as you cooed mockingly.

"Oh, I know, I know. You just planned to get off while being a little creep, stalking me while I was naked- while I was fucking masturbating. Were you hoping I was thinking of you, hm?" She slowly nodded in mortification, biting her lip as her mind reeled with the reminder. She could visualize the day you'd lie in front of her, purposely and knowingly, reciting the acts as you moaned her name.

"I just want you to like me too, Y/N..." She couldn't justify her filming, her photography, her deep obsession - all she could do was beg for you to allow her to stay, to move past what she did.

"...You're lucky you're cute, Wanda."

That night she went home with a kiss on her cheek and a large, mindless grin on her face, your lipstick print just barely evident. She didn't dare erase it, even after her twin brother teasingly pointed it out so that her parents would ask hundreds of questions. She ignored them, going to her room and sighing happily as she tucked herself into bed - pausing when she received a notification from an unknown number.

'For your little collection ;)' The text read, and she opened the video attachment with furrowed brows, her volume button instantly being attacked so no one could hear the loud moaning from your end, the whimpers, the groans. She heard her name multiple times, and her eyes couldn't decide between focusing on your pulsing clit vibrating against your toy, your tight hole greedily accepting two fingers, or your plump breasts slightly squished together by your arms. Previously, you couldn't reach your needed orgasm. However, Wanda felt drool pooling around her bottom lip as your legs shook violently, your body twitching as a result of the overbearing pleasure you were feeling. You slowly eased your fingers away from your hole after the vibrator came to a stop, and the woman on the other end let out a small moan as you licked the digits clean, wishing her a goodnight in your raspy, cultivating voice.

She was going to have a good night indeed.

[magickizu]

So I was reading something in a fanfic about Conner kryptonian name and had to google it, to see if it's true and it is...

And now I can't stop imagining Superman shitting bricks of pure fear whenever he sees Danny, after said person finds out. Why? Let me set the scene and paint the picture:

Of course when Ellie told Damian and Jon about their actually half-dead status and her being a clone, Jon lets the fact slip that his big brother Connor is actually also a clone and Ellie is ecstatic and wants to meet him. Danny tags along, because he's curious too. And hey! Conner is really cool! A completely normal, good big brother until the topic of his name comes up.

Jon and Connor are piece by piece learning bits and pieces of Kryptonian culture from Clark, at the start only Jon, but now that Conner and Clark's relationship got better overtime he started teaching him too... Except he fell silent with a look of shame, now whenever Connor asked about the name Clark gave him. Danny asked about it, having learned kryptonian from Walker and his face fell when Conner said "Kon-El*" with this happy tone in his voice, that meant he truly head no idea. Before Connor knew it, Danny put his arms around him, held him tight and just whispered "...you have every right to be here, to live and breathe and exist. To be who you what to be. Please don't ever, ever let no one, anyone tell you otherwise, kid." Conner is confused but still so touched that Danny held such kind words for him, even if he doesn't know why.

Then Danny seeks out Clark, currently in the watchtower in full Superman gear. Danny's first words when he saw the hunk of a man was: "Kon-El*!?? Are you fucking kidding me or something!?!? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" There he stood: 5'7" black hair, blue eyes either a new protege of the bat since it's adoption material but the fact that he can speak Kryptonian makes Supes shiver slightly. At least he looks nothing like him, that's a plus- no wait, that's Jon's new friend's brother right? ...what is he doing in the watchtower!?

"H-how did you..?" He looked confused, Danny was sweet and kind, if mischievous young man. Then it dawned on Clark, he knew Kryptonian and his confusion turned to guilt. There's a reason he didn't like calling Connor by the name given by him anymore. "...so you-"

"Yes, I know and don't you dare, use that kicked puppy look on me when you know you fucked up, dogrhys*." Clark watched in growing disbelief at Danny crossing his arms. His stands unwavering. Slowly Clarks opinion changes and so does his temper, looking at at Danny in a mix of incredibility and slight offence.

"Okay. You little sister and my son are friends, yes but how did you get here and what gives you the right to insult me like this? Are you even Kryptonian?" Okay, yeah, maybe he was a bit to harsh, but Clark is working on himself! He's been thinking of giving Conner a new name or rework the meaning of his current one. Suddenly a light flashes Infront of him and Danny is glowering at him, clearly floating and and in a knew colour palette too; purple skin, pointy ears, white floaty hair, neon, kryptonite green glowing eyes that are a tad bit to wild for a human and a mouth that's forming a scowl with decidedly too many sharp teeth. A crown of fire floating over his head. Staring eye to eye on the same level now.

"Call me King Phantom of the infinite realms and I dare you... I said nothing, because it's your responsibility to right your wrongs, but be careful or I will make sure you regret your childish decisions Kal-El*." Clark froze up, the temperature in the room fell noticeably even for him as He growled dangerously. Uncomfortably slow, a shudder of terror made it's way down Clarks spine, as he griped the extend. It's phantom, as in :dokhahsh*. Then with a king of the infinite realms, which Constantine explained as the home dimension of ghosts, as in vrrosh :dokhahsh*. It seemed apparent what Danny- what that demon wanted, because he grined way too wide and toothy and sharp "...I see, then take care. Now." And with that he vanished, phased right through him and into a portal he opened just outside the tower in the middle of the vacuum of space.

That was the moment Clark's knees gave in and he fell to the floor... He should tell the others, that a literal demon king is housing in Gotham, but doing so would have to make him admit his cruel and childish mistake to the whole league and he can't, he just can't... Well... At least, Clark knows that for some reason he is kind and protective of the innocent. So it shouldn't be a problem, right?

Well, imagine his face when Batman calls in an important meeting to introduce someone who wants to ask the JL for help and to his absolute horror it turns out to be the devil in person.

_Glossary:_

Kon-El - Conner's Kryptonian name; in the old 52 Clark explained it was "the name of one his cousins", in the new 52 it was mentioned that it meant something like "Abomination of house El". Yes, exactly. That's why Danny snapped.

Dogrhys - as far as I understood, can be used as slur, kinda like "faulty asshole" or "fucked up in the head" I could be wrong though

Kal-El - Clark's Kryptonian name, meaning something like "Star Child", you probably know it already but just to be orderly.

:dokhahsh - Literally "Phantom". Also used to describe bad ghosts, demons, basically every evil spirit and overall just very negative connotation.

vrrosh :dokhahsh - "Phantom Zone, the dimension of ghosts". I am not kidding, you can look it up.

Basically, Danny introduced himself as "demon king of the bad afterlife" to Clark, who now has it out for him XD

Just thought it funny and wanted to share!

[angelsuecult]

the captain | s. crosby

warnings: sexual content, strong language, MDNI, 18+, NSFW, minors please do no interact, smut.

summary: Sid is given a hard time by his gf about his very stoic interactions with the media. he's not going to let you off so easy.

request: Younger reader and Sidney are already dating, but she can’t help but roll her eyes at his impeccable media training and family friendly personality in the media he does for the league, so she makes fun of him and takes a strong interest in pushing his limits 👀 (aka ends in smut)

word count: 6.3k

a/n: sorry for the extended hiatus guys! i should be back to regular uploads at this point in time and i am currently working through the request list! more to come to keep your eyes peeled guys! thank you for your patience with me! angelsuecult returns!! also to the original requester please don't hesitate to reach out if i completely missed the mark on this and you want me to retry! and requests are still open and update so dont forget to check that out!

--

You’re pretty sure Valentine’s Day games are a scam. Some cruel cosmic joke designed to make girlfriends sit through 60 minutes of freezing cold air and overpriced concessions just to watch their man play his heart out in a sport that could, at any moment, take all his teeth and potentially a limb.  

Not that you minded. Much.  

Sidney had played his ass off tonight—like he had something to prove. Not that he ever really didn’t, because the man didn’t know how to do anything half-assed. Especially not when it came to hockey. Or you, for that matter.  

But of course, it just had to be Valentine’s Day.

You stood now in the tunnel by the player’s exit, phone in hand, watching as Penguins fans in Crosby jerseys flooded toward the concourse, buzzing about the win. Your fingers flew over your screen.  

You: You know I was going to blow you when you got home, but I’m reconsidering because you just had to make it about you tonight.

Three dots appeared almost immediately. Then vanished. Then nothing.  

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “Coward.”  

The man had just been named first fucking star of the game. Of course he had. Two goals, one assist, and a faceoff win percentage so sexy it made you squirm a little. You knew his media obligations were kicking off soon—he was probably just peeling his sweaty gear off now, miserable about the idea of answering questions about “how it felt” and “what went right tonight.”  

Sid: Can’t believe you’re texting me shit like that while I have to sit half dressed with 5 cameras pointed at me.

You bit your lip and grinned.  

You: I can. 

You: You looked good tonight. Real good. Like I’d let you put it in my ass kind of good.  

You: Kidding. Kind of.  

Another pause. He was slow replying, which you’d expected, and it only made you smirk more knowing he was probably trying not to react in front of his teammates or, worse, the media guys. You could practically see his jaw tightening as he tried to suppress a smile, annoyed but secretly delighted.  

You could picture him already—still in his gear, slumped at his stall with his towel around his neck and that half-annoyed, half-resigned expression on his face. Someone probably tossed a mic in his face already. He was probably giving them that polite nod, the “Sure, go ahead” look, all while internally screaming. Sidney, Sidney, Sidney. Too private for his own good.

Sid: Go to my place. I’ll be done soon.

Sid: Stop texting me this shit.

You laughed out loud, drawing a glance from a nearby couple as you stepped out into the cold Pittsburgh night.

You: Oh baby, I haven’t even started.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in your bed.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in your shower.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in that stupid jersey you “don’t like me wearing because you take it seriously.”  

You could practically hear him groaning through the screen.

Sid: You’re an asshole.

Sid: Say the same shit every time anyway.

Sid: “Good team effort, got the bounces, lucky to come out on top.”

Sid: Happy now?

You: You forgot “credit to the guys” and “just trying to play the right way”

You: Gotta hit all the NHL buzzword bingo squares.

You: And don’t forget to smile like a humble Canadian virgin!

No reply. You let that one simmer. He was either suffering or plotting. Maybe both. Probably both.

You pulled your coat tighter around you, breath fogging in front of your face as you made your way to your car. The wind cut through your jeans, but your smile stayed in place. There was something so satisfying about teasing him after a big win—especially when he hated the attention but couldn’t stop being the best guy on the ice. You just couldn’t help yourself.

You got in the car and cranked the heat while pulling up the radio broadcast. They were still recapping the game, gushing over Sid like he wasn’t just a man who’d once tripped over his own shoe in the hallway.

“…and of course, Crosby with a textbook finish. You can see why he’s still one of the most consistent players in the league…”

You rolled your eyes, mimicking the voice in the car. “Oh yes, Sidney. So clean. So polished. Such a gentleman. Definitely didn’t say he was going to fuck me through the headboard if he scored tonight.”

Traffic cleared slowly as you went to his place, a familiar route etched into your brain. His street was quiet when you pulled in—classic Sid, all understated wealth and privacy. It took you forty five minutes to get from the arena to his house, another five to park and kick off your shoes inside the door.  It smelled like him—like clean laundry, cedarwood, and that subtle vanilla scent of his shampoo you’d teased him for using but secretly loved.

You wandered through his halls, turning on a few lights, getting cozy. It always felt familiar here, even though it was very clearly his space—clean, functional. Like a guy who didn’t like clutter but had more money than he knew what to do with.

You padded into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Full of ingredients. Not a single thing you could just grab and go.

“Romantic,” you muttered under your breath, pulling out a container of strawberries instead and wandering toward the couch.

The rest of the house was dark except for the hallway light, left on for you, and your socked feet were silent on the hardwood as you climbed the stairs to his bedroom. The hallway was chilly as you padded toward the bedroom in your socks, carrying the half-eaten strawberries and your phone tucked beneath your arm. Sid’s place had that always-too-clean look to it. Like he tried to live in it, but barely spent enough time home for it to actually look lived in. You made a note to mess it up later. Nothing too dramatic—just a sweatshirt on the floor, maybe a bra hanging off the couch cushion, leave a cup on the counter. Domestic terrorism.

You tossed your phone on the nightstand and peeled off your jacket, fingers brushing over the remote on the dresser.  

TV on.  

Pants off.  

You were in his bed now, wearing his shirt—an old Penguins one that smelled like his laundry detergent and game day nerves—and absolutely nothing underneath.  

Just as God intended.  

The analysts were falling over themselves about his performance.

“…you know what you’re getting with Sid. Every single night. Discipline. Poise. He’s just got it.” You snorted.

“Yeah, discipline until he’s got me pinned under him telling me I’m not going anywhere until I apologize for teasing him about his ‘media voice.’”

Another buzz from your phone.  

Sid: About to start media. They’re dragging it out tonight.  

Sid: You’re lucky I like you.  

Sid: And that I want to fuck you stupid.  

You choked on your laugh, clutching your phone tighter as you wiped strawberry juice from your fingers onto his shirt. You stretched dramatically across the bed and typed.  

You: Wow. Romantic.  

You: Just like I dreamed when I was 10.  

You: “One day I’ll date a hockey player who talks to me like a caveman on Valentine’s Day.”

Sid: Don’t act like you don’t like it. You’re already naked, aren’t you?

You: You’re not even here yet and you already think you know everything.  

Sid: I do know everything. And I know you’re wearing my shirt. And that’s it.  

Sid: Because you’re predictable. And a little slutty.

You covered your face with one hand and laughed out loud into the empty room. Your heart fluttered like a fucking schoolgirl even as you cursed him out in your mind.  

There was something wildly unfair about the duality of Sidney Crosby. The version the world knew—stoic, polite, humble to the point of parody. And then the real version. The one who texted you filthy things from the dressing room and called you a brat with that low rasp in his voice that promised you wouldn’t be walking straight the next day.

He was such a damn con artist.

You: You’re the one who’s gonna cry when I leave you with blue balls tonight.  

You: “Sorry Sid, I got tired waiting for you.”  

You: “Sorry Sid, I used all my energy climbing your stairs.”  

You: “Sorry Sid, I found your toothbrush and that did it for me.”

Sid: You’re such an asshole.

Sid: You’re lucky I’ve been horny for you since warmups. 

Sid: You knew what you were doing, sitting that close.

You had known.  

You always knew.  

And he always played better when he knew you were there watching.  

You yawned, stretched your legs beneath his sheets, and flopped dramatically on the bed, taking up all the space just to be a brat. You could already hear it: his sigh of fake annoyance when he got home, the shake of his head, the way he’d peel your shirt up with one hand and drag your body down with the other.  

You rolled to your stomach, phone buzzing again beside you.  

Sid: I’ll be home soon. You better be exactly where I think you are.

Sid: And if you’re not, you’re done. Actually done. I’ll find a Valentine who respects me.

You: You?  

You: Wanting respect?  

You: I’m sorry. I thought this was Sidney “I’ll fuck you on the bench if no one’s around” Crosby.

No reply. Which told you all you needed to know.  

He was already doing media.  

Probably giving his same bland ass answers.  

Probably planning what he was going to do the second he walked through that door.  

You looked around, debated getting up to light a candle or make the bed look a little less like a war zone. Then shrugged.  

Let him deal with the chaos he caused.  

You flipped onto your back and sighed happily, smirking at the ceiling.  

The remote was still in your hand when the screen switched from the postgame panel to the locker room feed. You didn’t even bother turning up the volume—didn’t need to. You could already hear it in your head.  

Sidney Crosby, media-trained robot, coming to life in hi-def.

You sighed and settled deeper into his bed, still cocooned in his shirt, bare legs tangled in his sheets. The duvet smelled like him. So did the pillow you were shamelessly half-lying on, half-straddling. Your phone sat close, a loaded weapon in the war of flirtation, but for now, you watched.  

There he was, perched in his stall, sweat-slick hair hidden under a black team hat, compression long sleeve clinging to his chest and arms like it was painted on. No jersey. No pads. Just muscle, all angles and sharp focus, like the game hadn’t even left his bloodstream yet. Cue Captain Canada.

The reporter asked about the team’s energy tonight, and you muttered out loud to no one, “We played a full sixty, stuck to our game, did the little things right—blah, blah, blah.”  

And then, right on cue:  

“Yeah, I thought we played a full sixty tonight… stuck to our game, did the little things right…”  

You cackled.

“Fucking called it.”  

He looked half dead behind the eyes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, nodding as another reporter threw a question at him. You didn't even bother listening this time. You just watched his face. That twitch of his mouth when he was trying not to say what he really wanted to say. That calm, serious voice he used like a shield. That stupid, safe, polished version of himself that made you want to throw something at the screen.  

Because you knew the real Sid.  

The one who talked absolute filth into your ear with that same mouth.  

The one who made fun of his teammates the second the cameras were off.  

The one who said “fuck” more than he said “I.”  

And then—then—it happened.  

The reporter asked:  

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Sid. You played a great game. Got any plans tonight?”  

You sat up a little. That one actually surprised you. When did the reporters get so bold?

He gave them that laugh—that stupid, breathy chuckle he only used when he didn’t want to give too much away. Then he smiled, eyes low, lips pressed together like he was fighting off the real answer.  

“No,” he said. “Just recover. Get ready for the next one.”  

That was it. That was all.  

You stared at the TV, jaw slightly open.  

“Recover?” you muttered. “That’s your answer? No wink? No cute little nod? Not even a fucking smirk? You lying sack of shit, Sidney Patrick.”  You looked absolutely nuts talking to yourself.

You picked up your phone and unleashed.  

You: “Just recover,” he says.  

You: Wow. My pussy just dried up.  

You: Say hello to celibacy apparently.  

Still no reply. You fired off another.  

You: You are such a fucking fraud.  

You: There is literally a naked woman in your bed. Right now. At your house.  

You: On Valentine’s Day.  

You: But nooo, he’s gonna “recover.”  

You: Go ahead, Sid. Recover. I’ll just be here. Thinking about life. My choices. The fact I could’ve fucked a dentist. Or literally anyone else but hey.

You bit your lip to hide a smile, watching him wrap the interview up, nodding politely, face locked in full Captain Mode. You could practically feel the tension buzzing under his skin. The itch to get the hell out of there and back to you.  

One more for good measure:  

You: When they say “Crosby keeps his private life quiet,”  

You: They don’t know it’s because he talks so much shit in bed the FCC would fine him.

That did it.

Your phone lit up almost the second he stood from his stall.  

Sid: You need to be stopped.

Sid: You need help.

Sid: I’m not even out of the building yet and I’m hard.

You flopped backward against his pillows, laughing like a lunatic.  

You: I’m sorry did you forget you have a girlfriend? Did your nut brain erase me from memory just because you got first star??

You: Not even a cute little “gonna go home to the girl who’s been letting me rearrange her insides all season”???

You: Also don’t think I didn’t notice your compression shirt. You know exactly what you’re doing you manipulative little slut.

Sid: Jesus Christ

Sid: You knew what you signed up for.

You: I signed up for the hot hockey sex. The rest was a scam.

You: Don’t worry, I’ll be asleep by the time you get home.  

You: No recovering necessary. You’re off the hook.

Sid: You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow if you keep this up.  

Sid: You want recovery? I’ll give you something to recover from.

You swallowed.  

Slowly.  

Okay.  

So maybe you did like poking the bear.  

And maybe the bear knew exactly how to fuck you into next week.  

You tucked your phone under your pillow and let out a slow breath, heart thudding, a little thrill sparking low in your belly.  

Valentine’s Day.  

Just another game on the calendar.  

Until Sid got home.

And the worst part was, you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep. One second you were tucked under his sheets, limbs comfortably sprawled, phone still clutched in one hand and TV murmuring softly in the background… and the next, you were blinking against the warm glow of the bedside lamp and squinting up at a very large, very amused, very smug silhouette looming over you.

“Unbelievable,” Sidney muttered, shaking his head as he stood beside the bed. His coat was halfway off, his cheeks still pink from the cold outside, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and that fucking backwards hat still on his head. “All that mouth, and look at you now. Out cold.”

You groaned before you could speak, voice thick with sleep and low like you’d swallowed a blanket. “'M not.”

“You literally just snored,” he said, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud and crouching beside the bed. “Like a full-on little cartoon snore. Tiny inhale, wheeze on the exhale. Real cute.”

“I did not snore,” you mumbled into the pillow. But your voice was gravelly, throat dry, and goddammit—your limbs were heavy with sleep, and he smelled so good, and everything was so warm.

“Look at you,” he murmured, brushing a few strands of hair off your cheek. “Talked all that shit and knocked yourself out.”  

You shifted slightly, nose scrunching, a quiet little groan escaping your throat.

“Mmph.”  

He grinned. Leaned in close to your ear.  

“Babe.”  

Nothing.  

“Babe.” He kissed your cheek. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.”  

You grunted, rolling slightly. “M’tired…”  

You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, barely lifting your head from the pillow.

“…What time is it?”

“Late. Or early. Depends who you ask.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “You passed out. Didn’t even make it to Valentine’s Day sex.”

You groaned again, voice muffled. “I didn’t mean to. Your bed is criminally warm. I got cozy. My body betrayed me.”

“You talked a lot of shit.”

“Yeah well, I thought you were gonna be faster.”

He laughed low in his chest, slipping his hand beneath the covers to grab your hip and give it a squeeze. He climbed onto the bed with all the smug grace of a man who had absolutely earned this moment of superiority. He leaned down, one knee pressing into the bed right between your legs, and shoved at the covers just enough to catch a glimpse of your legs tangled beneath his sheets.

“You look real cozy for someone who was talking an awful lot of shit about how boring I am,” he said, tone low and teasing.

You squinted at him, your voice a gravelly whisper.

“You are boring. You literally said, ‘recover.’ Who says that on Valentine’s Day? Recover from what, Sidney? Being 37?”

He let out a sharp laugh and pushed your hair back from your face, warm fingers brushing your cheek.

“You’re a little shit,” he murmured.

“And you’re a liar.” You poked a finger into his chest. “You lied to the media. There was an actual naked girl waiting for you in your bed and you gave them the ‘I’m gonna rest up’ speech like a fucking priest.”

Sid rolled his eyes.

“You know I can’t give them anything,” he said. “They’ve been trained like bloodhounds. If I so much as hint at having plans, I’ll have a fucking headline on every sports page tomorrow.”

“God forbid people find out you’re not a virgin,” you deadpanned.

“Watch it,” he warned playfully. “I am a role model.”

You burst out laughing, head tipping back into the pillow.

“Oh my god, you are so full of shit. You talk like you’re running for office, but then you come home and say things like, ‘c’mere, baby, I’ve been thinking about fucking you against the kitchen counter since warmups.’”

He grinned. “Still true, by the way.”

You hummed and looped your arms around his neck lazily.

“You missed your shot then, Captain Celibate. Shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.”

Sid smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Didn’t realize the threat of dick was the only thing keeping you awake.”

“You should’ve. It’s your strongest feature.”

He laughed again, breath warm against your cheek, before ducking his head to kiss you properly—slow and deep and good, like he had all the time in the world. You melted into it, arms tightening around his neck, legs shifting beneath the covers until you hooked one behind his bent knee, dragging him closer.

Then he nuzzled into your neck again and added, low and dirty:  

“You wanna go back to sleep, or you want me to give you something real to recover from?”  

You groaned dramatically. “You are such a whore, oh my god.”  

“And yet, here you are. In my bed. Wearing my shirt. Wet for me in your sleep, probably.”  

“Shut up—”  

“You were,” he said smugly, dragging his hand up your thigh. “I checked. You twitched.”  

You covered your face with both hands. “You’re disgusting.”  

“You’re worse,” he said, kissing down your throat. “And when you wake up tomorrow sore as hell, I want you to remember who was ready when the moment came, and who—” he nipped your collarbone— “took a nap.”  

“Sidney.”  

“Y/n.”  

You sighed, dropped your hands, and stared up at him.  

“You gonna fuck me or give another locker room interview?”  

He grinned. And with that, he kissed you again, deep and slow and fucking smug. You could feel the smile on his mouth, even as he pressed you back into the mattress like you were the only thing worth coming home to.  

"Holy shit," you said, breathless as he tugged your shirt up over your hips, revealing those barely there red panties you wore when you knew he’d be seeing them. Lacy. Dark. A tiny bow on the waistband.

Sid looked smug. “I’m so obsessed with you, it’s disgusting.”

“You're disgusting,” you corrected, but you were already arching up, letting him pull the shirt over your head. 

He laughed low, all pleased with himself. "You love it."

His hand slipped a little higher, fingertips grazing the side of your hip where your underwear were just barely clinging to your curves.

You sucked in a breath you tried to pretend was casual. "Sid," you warned.

"What?" he drawled, blinking down at you like he hadn’t just started setting your entire nervous system on fucking fire. You lifted your head, giving him a look. "You’re fucking pushing it."

Sid grinned, so goddamn starved it made your toes curl. "You need me to spell it out, Y/N Y/LN?" he teased, voice dropping into that dangerous gravel. "Need me to tell you how bad I wanna fuck you?"

You groaned, covering your face with both hands like that could somehow save you. "Jesus Christ, Sidney."

He pulled your hands away, kissing your knuckles like a fucking gentleman, even while his other hand kept creeping higher up your thigh.

"Could just be gentle," he murmured, kissing the inside of your wrist now, right over your pulse. "Real slow, babe. Let you sit on my cock nice and easy. You barely gotta do anything. I'll do all the fuckin' work."

You whimpered, and he fucking heard it.

He grinned harder, absolutely predatory now, shifting to hover over you more fully, careful not to press too much weight onto you.

"Bet you miss it," he murmured against your ear, lips brushing your skin. You literally had sex in his bed this morning but you hated that he was right, you did miss it.

"Sid," you gasped, arching your back automatically, and fuck, he hadn't even touched you properly yet.

He chuckled low and mean, dragging his mouth along your throat, nipping lightly. "Tell me, baby," he rasped. "Tell me how bad you want it."

You shoved at his chest weakly, more for show than anything else. "I hate you," you breathed. "I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, grinning into your hair. "You love this dick though."

You burst out laughing, half-horrified and half-scorched alive. "You are so fucking nasty," you managed between giggles, pinching his arm lightly.

He caught your hand easily, pressing it down above your head, pinning you with almost no effort. "And you're so fuckin' wet for me right now, I can feel it through your goddamn panties," he grunted, pressing his hips into yours just enough to make you feel the thick, heavy line of him behind his dress pants.

You whimpered again, biting your lip. "Sid," you whispered desperately.

He kissed the corner of your mouth. "Say it," he ordered softly. "Say you want me."

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing hard.

It was so unfair, how good he was at this. How easily he turned you into this trembling, needy thing even when you thought you had the upper hand for most of the day

But he looked at you like you were the best part of his night. Like he couldn’t wait to ruin you in the best goddamn way.

You cracked your eyes open, meeting his gaze. "I want you," you whispered. "You asshole."

Sid’s grin turned downright feral.

"Yeah?" he rasped, nuzzling into your jaw, his hand finally — finally — sliding under your panties, the rough pads of his fingers skimming where you were already slick and throbbing for him. "Good," he murmured. "‘Cause you're not gettin' away from me, princess. Not tonight."

You gasped as his fingers slipped deeper, teasing, and you clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle there.

"Sid," you panted. "Bed’s gonna break if you fuck me the way you're lookin' at me right now."

He laughed low, dirty, and thrilled. "Then we'll buy a new one," he said, voice rough as he sank two fingers into you slowly and deep. "Hell, babe, we'll break every goddamn bed from here to fuckin' Canada if it means I get to feel you come around me again."

You moaned helplessly, arching into him.

And when he bent down, kissed you— really kissed you, slow and filthy and possessive — it felt like a promise burned into your skin.

Sid could’ve fucked you stupid in under thirty seconds if he wanted. The way you were already whimpering under him, writhing in his hands, he knew it wouldn’t take much.

But tonight — tonight he wanted to be slow. He wanted to wreck you proper. Melt every bone in your goddamn body.

He slipped his fingers out of you with a slow, slick sound that made you whimper again. He fucking loved that sound. Loved everything about you like this — messy and needy and all his.

"You gotta relax, baby," Sid murmured, dropping kisses along the flushed line of your throat, working his way lower. "Can't be tense on me. Gotta stay nice and easy for me."

Sid pulled back from your body just enough to catch you breathless— just enough to see you, all flushed and desperate, lips swollen, hair a wild halo against the pillows. His heart punched hard against his ribs.

"Fuckin' hell, Y/N," he muttered, staring at you like he couldn’t decide whether to devour you whole or build a shrine at your feet. "Look at you."

You whimpered and tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging gently, begging him wordlessly to keep going.

Sid huffed a soft, broken laugh, dragging your panties slowly — so slowly — down your thighs, baring you completely to him. He didn’t just toss them. No. He pocketed them. Smirked while he was doing it. Like the absolute sex demon he was.

And he was hard. So hard it was actually starting to hurt. He was damn near grinding in his pants for some kind of friction.

He pressed a kiss right between your breasts, trailing down your belly. You shivered so hard it made the mattress creak.

Sid grinned against your skin. "You already taste so fuckin' sweet," he muttered, nosing at your core, not even touching you properly yet, just letting the heat of his breath drive you crazy. "Bet you could get me drunk off your pussy right now, baby. All thick and fuckin' sweet just for me."

"Oh my god, Sidney," You gasped, tossing your head back. "You're fucking filthy."

"Yeah, well," he said, voice low and smug. "You like it, baby. You like havin' me mouth off about how sweet your pussy is when you’re desperate."

You made a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob, and Sid finally gave you what you needed — flattening his tongue and dragging it up through your folds, slow and deep.

Your entire body jerked.

"Jesus fuck, Sid," you gasped, arching off the bed, thighs trembling.

He groaned into you, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt you up even closer to his mouth. "You’re fuckin’ drippin', babe," he muttered, voice vibrating against your soaked skin. "Beggin' for it. Haven’t even touched my cock yet and you’re already so fuckin' close, huh?"

"Fuck you," you moaned, trying to close your thighs around his head — he loved when you did that, so desperate you wanted to trap him there.

Sid laughed low, all smug satisfaction, and stiffened his tongue to shove into your leaky entrance, bobbing in and out like he was starving. Every little whimper, every twitch of your hips, just made him harder, his cock aching in his dress pants.

He shifted one hand, dragging two fingers back inside you, pumping slow, gentle strokes in and out while he circled your clit with his tongue, slow and deliberate. His fingers moved slow between your legs, curling deep, working that perfect rhythm only he knew. Your thighs quivered, trying to clamp shut, but he squared his shoulder and pushed them open lazily. "None a' that," he said, smirking. "You’re taking it, baby. Not hidin’ from me now. Not after all that shit you talked on my phone."

You clawed at the dress shirt he was still wearing, trying to yank him back up. "You’re such a fucking dick," you gasped. "Coulda just got me some flowers and left me the fuck alone—"

Sid grinned, slow and greedy, dragging the how tongue down your slick folds, circling your clit just hard enough to make your hips jerk. "And miss this?" he murmured. "Babe, you’re better than Christmas. Better than a fuckin’ playoff win."

He pushed your shirt up higher until your breasts were exposed, beautiful and tender. He palmed one carefully, thumb brushing across your hardening nipple, and you gasped, your legs falling further open for him.

"Sensitive, huh, baby?" he whispered, watching you squirm. "Bet you could come just from my mouth on you right now, no hands, nothing."

"You’re fucking killing me," you moaned, lifting your hips helplessly, trying to get more friction.

He laughed again — slow, dangerous — and dipped his head to take your clit back into his mouth, sucking softly, then harder, pulling a desperate, broken sound from your throat.

You fisted his hair, hips rocking mindlessly against his face, your whole body tightening.

"Sid, fuck," you gasped, "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He lifted his head, grinning at your flushed, wrecked face. "You gonna come for me already, baby? Just from my fuckin' fingers?" he teased, pumping them harder now, twisting his wrist so his palm rubbed against your clit perfectly. "Fuck, that's hot. Goddamn, you're perfect. So fuckin' good for me,Y/N."

"Jesus–Fuck–Sidney." you cried out, arching hard off the bed as you came, gripping his wrist as if to tell him not to stop, body shuddering, your pussy clenched down so hard around his fingers it almost hurt, soaking his hand and mouth with a gush that made Sid groan into you.

He kept working you through it, slow and patient, until you were trembling, whimpering, utterly wrecked.

He kissed you again, deep and slow, until you went boneless against the sheets, gasping for air.

He pulled his fingers out finally, dragging them slow between your thighs, teasing your slit just to hear you whimper again. Then he sucked his fingers into his mouth, groaning low like you were the best fucking thing he'd ever tasted.

You slapped his chest weakly. "You're disgusting," you muttered, still breathless, half-dazed.

Sid grinned and grabbed your hand, pressing it to the bulge straining against the front of his now wrinkled pants. "Yeah? Feel how bad you got me, baby?" he rasped. "’M about two seconds away from blowin' my load like a fuckin' teenager over here."

You laughed, exhausted and glowing and a little feral around the edges. "Good," you whispered, hooking your legs around his waist. "Now fucking do something about it, Crosby."

He stripped his shirt off one-handed, tossing it somewhere behind him, before finally, finally undoing his jeans.

His cock sprang free, hard and leaking, and you made a broken, desperate sound that made Sid’s heart squeeze. Your mouth actually watered.

“Baby… fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he guided your hands above your head, he tapped his tip against your slick folds, nudging your clit teasing the both of you, you instinctively moved forward, preparing for more stimulation, “You ready for me, huh?”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of the head pressing against your entrance, so close yet so far. You could barely form words, the need building inside you too overwhelming, and all you could do was let out a shaky breath, your hips shifting slightly against him. “Mhmmm,” you murmured, your voice trembling with anticipation. “need you.”

With a groan, Sidney shifted above you, his hands holding your hips as he slowly pushed his length into you, slowly, inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—your heat, your tightness, the way you stretched around him as he filled you. He couldn’t hold back the curse that slipped from his lips as he bottomed out inside you, his breath ragged as he held you close.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned into your neck, "tightest fuckin' thing, swear to god...made for me."

Sid stayed still for a moment, just breathing, letting you adjust, feeling your soft, fluttering muscles pulsing around him.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back further into the pillow as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. The stretch was delicious, filling you completely, and the slow, steady throb of him buried deep inside made your pulse race. You could feel every inch of him, the way he fit perfectly against that gummy spot inside you, and it made you dizzy with need.

It took every ounce of control he had not to just start pounding into you like a goddamn animal.

Instead, he pulled out slow, almost all the way, and slid back in with one long, careful thrust that made you whimper and dig your heels into the mattress.

"That’s it," he murmured against your temple. "Just like that, princess. Let me take care of you."

He fucked you slowly—long, hard, deep strokes,  savoring every twitch and gasp and curse. You arched under him, hips pushing up, body moving with his like you’d been built just for this.

The sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs filled the room. He kept a first grip on your hips as he continued a consistent pace. At some point your brain just melted. Your eyes could no longer focus on him above you and your mouth hung open, moans no longer falling from your lips. The only thing you could do was tighten around him.

Sid could feel you getting close. He dropped down, his chest pressing right up to yours stopping his thrusts. But in your cockdrunk you started to grind upwards when Sidney wouldn’t move. Caught between needing the break but also wanting him to continue.He wanted this to last though. 

And just like that, he was sitting back, pulling you up with him. Chest to chest, you were now on top. His lips catching yours in something deeper now—hotter, messier. You gasped as he lifted you slightly, maneuvering with muscle memory and intention, letting you sink down completely onto his cock.

“I got you,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back, the other moving down to stroke your thigh. “Just move how you want. I’ll follow your lead.”

You couldn’t answer — too full, too overwhelmed, too in love — so you just sat on your knees and began rocking your hips in desperation. He knew you were getting impatient. It was in the way your hips started moving impatiently against his aching cock. He knew you needed to come and that you were close. It was in the way you took everything he gave you, every rough upward thrust, every whispered praise.

You leaned forward, one hand braced on his broad shoulder, the other tangled in his hair as you rode him slowly — hips rolling in little waves, the angle hitting all the right places, making your whole body quake.

“‘M close Sid,” you whispered, gasping when his thumb found your swollen clit again.

“Good,” he said hoarsely, “You need it. Look at you. All needy and swollen. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You know that?”

“Don’t stop ohmygodohgodfuck-” you whined, burying your face in his neck.

Sidney couldn’t stop even if he tried to. You’re too damn addicting.

He starts to thrust upward, matching the pace in which you're riding him. He desperate to watch you fall apart on top of him. He pushes two fingers into your mouth, you instinctively start sucking on them as if they’re his cock.

“There she is,” he whispers, rough and low.

You clamp down around his cock, coming hard and fast. It rolled through you in heavy, pulsing waves–warm and all consuming–pulling a wrecked cry from your lips.

“Fucking–Jesus–I’m–Goddammit Sid–”

Sidney came with a deep, desperate groan, burning his face in your neck as his cock twitched inside of your pussy. He emptied himself inside, thrusting up lazily a few times, fucking his come deep inside of you, even as you writhe above him in overstimulation. He watches as his cock drags in and out of you, a circle of your cream circling the base as his come leaks down his length and down to his balls. 

Sid pressed you back onto the mattress, unintentionally thrusting his softened cock into you. You whine softly, already spent and tired and ready for bed. He presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.

“You okay?”

“Mm.” You mumble softly, already drifting off.

You had all the time in the world now. Sid had made damn sure of that.

--

[raekensluver]

Hello I got a request for George I was wondering if you could do where him and reader find a photo booth and they take really cute couple photos 

such a cute idea!!

contains: established relationship, fluff

george clarke x fem!reader

you found it by accident.

tucked between a candy shop and a florist, the old photo booth sat like a forgotten secret. the kind with chipped red paint, a faded “4 photos – £2” sign, and a velvet curtain that had seen better days.

george noticed it the moment you did. you turned to him with a spark in your eye, and he groaned, dramatically.

“oh no.”

“oh yes,” you grinned, tugging at his sleeve. “come on, it’s adorable.”

“it’s tiny,” he pointed out, letting you pull him along anyway. “i’m going to have to fold in half to fit.”

“that’s what makes it romantic.”

he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling—that soft smile, the one that melted every last part of you. the two of you squeezed inside, limbs tangled and shoulders bumping. you plopped down first, and george slid in beside you, knees practically up to his chest, laughing.

you pressed the button.

the countdown began—3... 2...

first photo: you kissed his cheek at the last second, catching him off guard, mouth parted in surprise.

second: he recovered, pulling you close and kissing your temple just as you giggled into his collar.

third: you both tried to smile nicely, but started laughing halfway through—george’s nose scrunching, your eyes nearly closed.

fourth: he leaned his forehead against yours. the flash caught it just as the world felt perfectly still.

you stepped out giggling, waiting for the strip of photos to print.

when the strip printed, you both grabbed for it, fingers brushing. george won.

george held it between his fingers, eyes scanning over the tiny moments frozen in time. “you’re keeping this one,” he said, handing it to you. “but only if you let me take a picture of it first.”

you slipped it into your bag with a grin. “deal. but next time, we’re doing silly props.”

he shook his head, still smiling. “next time? planning ahead already?”

“maybe,” you teased, “i like making memories with you.”

[thumblemina]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ content warnings: 18+, mdni, fem!reader, oral, dirty talk, praise, atsumu being a lil dumbass + tease

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ word count: 1.6k

fwb!asumu who is unreliable in a way that should easily pull apart the casual strings holding together your entire precarious situation. because if he’s not playing volleyball, he’s conditioning to play volleyball, or struggling to pass classes so he can play more volleyball, or just thinking of volleyball really, and that means those ridiculous u up? texts are sporadic at best.

at worst, his responses to you slipping into his messages after two too many drinks are more often than not hitting his screen when he’s snoring at an ungodly volume.

fwb!asumu who follows up your Friday post-last-call booty call attempt the next morning at 7AM with a crying face emoji and a sweaty ab pic (that you’ve never asked for, but he always provides, and you happily return to later under your covers).

only for him to slide into your messages a week later on a Tuesday at 6PM (it’s still light out, and that should be sacrilegious, but that’s just how you both work) begging for a taste of you, waxing bad poetic about your thighs when you send the unfortunate reply that you’ve got a paper due at midnight that you need to pass your infuriating statistics class. and maybe you send him a picture of those aforementioned thighs, since it’s only fair, and then put your phone on do not disturb to ignore the 20-part emoji breakdown that follows.

fwb!asumu who when the stars do end up aligning, somehow, will still end up stumbling into your apartment after midnight an hour later than he said he would, at least with the decency of looking a bit sheepish, but that’s the only decent thing about him. his cheeks are flushed and his words are slurred, thickening his dialect in a way you’ll never admit tickles you somewhere deep in your core when you herd him inside, swatting away the sloppy kisses he’s already planting along your throat.

fwb!asumu who's kicking off his shoes next to yours when you finally shove him off to disappear for a small bathroom break, and he’s shooting you that hooded look that you expect will have him naked and warm in your bed when you return, but he’s not.

when you pass by your kitchen on your way to your room, he’s leaning against your marbled counter, taking up more space than anyone ever seems to do in your place, with a takeout container in one hand and a fork shovelling pad thai into his mouth with the other.

your pad thai.

fwb!asumu who just blinks when you spit his name, staring him down deadpan.

“this ain’t mine?” he manages through rice noodles and beansprouts, sending you that cheeky smile that knows better. he earns an eyeroll when he lies so easily, “swear it was mine.”

“that’s supposed to be my dinner tomorrow,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest, somehow both surprised and not at all with how much he’s been able to devour in the three minutes you left him unsupervised.

you even splurged for the 3 dollar shrimp surcharge. now three dollars poorer and somehow the fact that you know he eats the tail too makes it even worse.

he sets the takeout down, roughly wiping his mouth with his forearm in a way that should give you the ick but never does. that easy, magnetizing grin is digging into his cheek. “lemme make it up to ya, princess. promise you won’t even remember ya had it in the first place.”

fwb!asumu who is infuriating and unreliable and honestly such a bad fucking idea, but he’s consistent where it counts. in his serves, in his sets, and in the way that he already has you panting when he’s grinding your hips into your mattress, a well-conditioned thigh pressing between your legs at just the right angle that has you arching into him, his tongue is swirling in that sinful way against your throat.

“fuck, sweetheart, you keep moaning in my ear all desperate like th’t, i ain’t gonna last.”

“who’s desperate?” you breathe out, but the way that it falls like a prayer off your lips betrays you, and the smirk nestled against your skin hears it too.

fwb!asumu who tastes like cheep beer and your fucking pad thai, but when those pretty setter fingers are rolling your swollen, puffy nipples between them, tugging the precise amount that stings in that pain-please wire-cross way that makes your head spin, you are having trouble remembering anything beyond his touch. you’re gasping, but it wavers into a needy moan as soon as he ducks his head and soothes the sting with the wet heath of his mouth.

it’s sloppy in a way that he only is in bed- the obscene smack of his lips, his spit, his fucking tongue. you never understand how he can make you fall apart with just his tongue.

“ah, tsumu, more, i need more,” you’re begging, you know it and you should be embarrassed but your brain has been replaced with radio static and want. the only thing you know is the friction between your thighs, your soaked panties, and his hands roughly grabbing all over you but somehow, it's still not enough. "fuck, c'mon."

fwb!asumu who presses his thigh harder into your core, those calloused fingers moving to grab the plush of your hips and grind you down onto him in that delicious way he knows you love, voice rough when he’s saying, “think i might wait till yer desperate, though.”

you’re rolling your hips, arching your back for more, cursing the futile barrier your damp panties provide between the skin-to-skin contact you're craving. and when his teeth lightly brush against your already too-sensitive nipples, pulling a gasp from your lips, you feel the smirk before you look down to see those dark, molten eyes and see it.

“get the fuck down there, pretty boy,” you grind out, suppressing the shiver that threatens when you grab a fistful of his dyed hair, something you know he loves by the low groan that escapes him, and shove him further down your body.

fwb!asumu who’s grinning when he teases, “so demanding,” and shifts your legs on either side of his broad shoulders.

but with atsumu the teasing never stops there, because even when those pretty setter fingers are hooking your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds to the air in a way that makes your breath hitch, and you’re rocking your hips up for more, he’s still just pressing sweet, wet kisses to your inner thighs. even when you all but whine when he runs a thick thumb along your slit, pressing meanly into your clit, puffs of hot air from his mouth close but not close enough, he still isn’t getting close enough.

“tsumu,” you huff, frustrated, threading your fingers through his hair. “stop fucking playing around.”

and he’s sucking a filthy kiss right next to your cunt, murmuring, “but you’re so fun to play with.”

fwb!asumu who will tease you and play with you and make you arch your back and fucking keen in the most infuriating way possible, who will miss your texts and eat your pad thai and show up an hour fucking late, but when he finally, finally presses that filthy mouth over your clit, it’s all suddenly so worth it.

because he’s running his broad tongue through your dripping folds, dipping his tongue to tease your entrance, collecting all that slick just to suck your clit into his mouth, and your mind fucking breaks. your eyes clamp shut, and all you can see are stars and galaxies, your ears are drowned out by the obscene wet noises he’s making or you're making you're not sure, his hands digging into the fat of your thighs, and the most pathetic little noises are leaving your mouth.

he’s nudging a finger into your entrance, soaking as he slides in so easily, and in that coarse, sexy fucking voice saying, “yeah, you’re my good fuckin' girl, aren’t ya?” in a way that you can only whimper and rock your hips into his face, any words stolen from your lips as his tongue and fingers synchronize in that way he knows to make you fall apart.

fwb!asumu who seems to know all the soft spots to unravel you, curling his fingers just right, tongue swirling and sucking just right, until there’s no arguing that you are that desperate mess. you’re only broken sobs and bucking hips and whining for more, more, more.

you're tugging at his hair now, digging your fingers into his scalp in a way that you know must be painful but when it has him groaning, raspy and wrecked, right into your pussy you absolutely can't care. the tighter you tug, it seems to spur him on even more, he's getting even sloppier with it.

and it’s that timber as he’s murmuring in that almost mocking voice, “i know, baby, i know,” when you’re clenching around his fingers that has you tumbling right off the edge, falling into the abyss, overwhelmed by white hot need.

fwb!asumu who dutifully helps you ride through the aftershocks, nudging that spongy spot inside you until your legs are limp and liquid, and then is slipping his fingers out of you and licking them clean. despite your chest still panting, and that boneless quality you know is written all of your body, you roll your eyes. “didn’t i feed you enough?”

he’s grinning down at you, and you can see his erection straining against his briefs, a promise of more to come. “can’t help it, you’re so fuckin' tasty.”

you sigh. “oh? better than my pad thai?”

fwb!asumu who laughs in a way that settles right into your core, before crawling back up your body and capturing your mouth in a searing, wet kiss. “guess i’ll just have to fuck ya harder if you still remember.”

fwb!asumu who absolutely does.

until the next day, when you’re opening what’s left of your takeout for dinner, and realizing that he absolutely did eat all your shrimp, including the fucking tails, that freak.

╰┈➤ a/n: genuinely don't know what this even is (me craving pad thai???) but he is so fucking cute omg. itching to make a follow up but have no idea where it would go lol. divider by @cafekitsune

[thevillainswhore]

Only A Touch From You Will Do

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Dex always counts down the minutes until he’s home again. Until he can breathe again. Until he’s back in your arms again.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, canon related, some light mention of self esteem issues.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Image by @bullseyelover on Pinterest.

hi again! Thought I’d try my hand at a more softer Dex. I really liked writing this one, the idea that all of his troubles melt away once he gets home to the one he loves makes me happy 🥹 hopefully I’ve done him justice and it isn’t too out of character. Enjoy! x

As soon as Dex walks through the door of your shared apartment, he closes his eyes and takes what feels like his first deep breath of the day. The door closes as his back slumps against it, body sagging with the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. 

Work was a bust. The rigid structure the FBI provides him doesn't seem to be helping as it once did. His nerves fray with more caseloads coming in. The applause Dex formerly received when completing his assignments now crickets in a desert. 

Each crack in his preserved regime is beginning to reveal itself and Dex’s hands sweat with cold anticipation with the thought of going back tomorrow. 

“Hi, Ben.” And there you are, voice so soft with that soothing lilt that instantly deflates the anxiety that’s been living in his chest since he had to leave you this morning. A smile effortlessly upturns his lips as you drag him out of the dark. It’s just the effect you have on him. 

Dex opens his eyes and is graced by the sight of you, adorned with your favourite hoodie of his. He can’t help how his ears burn as the hem flutters over your bare mid thigh. “Hey, Angel.” 

Your feet patter delicately against the wooden floorboards, slowly making their way towards him. Dex’s heart increases in tempo as your scent gets stronger, the melody of the sweet perfume you normally spray upon your neck weaving its way into his consciousness and ridding the stress of the day. 

He welcomes you instantly, practically dragging you into his body and wrapping his arms around you like a lifeline. Your small oof makes him chuckle and he nuzzles himself into your neck to inhale you in. To make sure you’re real. “Christ, I missed you.” 

Giggling against him, you kiss his covered chest and hum tenderly. “I missed you too, love. Always miss you when you’re gone.” 

A crack splinters Dex’s heart. Your intimate declaration forces him to cuddle you tighter. He misses you all the time too, stares at the framed picture of you on his desk at work and wishes he could be with you instead. 

It only makes his frustrations of work fester; the growing demands he used to fulfill now suddenly too meagre, the injustice of himself being used as a scapegoat for the FBI’s failures. It was unravelling what was once his perfectly stabilizing routine he had curated with precision and instead shifting it into his personal nightmare. 

But all of that fades to the background, into the dark corners of Dex’s mind when you hold him in the delicate way you do. Like he’s made of glass, like he’s something so precious you’re scared if you let go he’ll shatter. Like he matters — worthy of being someone better than he’s destined to be.

He believes it because of you. 

You must feel the vines of stress winding themselves into Dex’s muscles. Propping your chin on his solid chest to look into his eyes, you offer him the most serene glimpse of comfort, eyes earnest and all seeing. As though you can see straight through him. 

Somehow, that doesn’t scare Dex. If anything, it made him feel lighter. 

“How about we snuggle while we order something in, hm?” You whisper gently. “You look tired, baby. Let me make it better.” 

Weakness comes in its purest form at a simple request from you. Dex can no longer be a strong man when you ask for something he so badly needed. Especially in the sugared, saccharine matrimony you hold for him. Like a siren, luring him in only with the sound of your voice. 

How can his answer be anything other than yes? “Yeah.” Dex’s styled hair begins to unravel as he nods his head, his nervous tick of combing his fingers through his hair resulting in several strands becoming loose. “Y-Yes. Please.” 

Dex swallows the lump in his throat. He sounds so needy, so vulnerable and with any other he’d hate himself. But with you, he can’t help but let go and allow you to see him exposed. 

Holding your hand out, you wait until Dex places his own in yours, intertwining your fingers together before leading him to your shared bedroom. 

The two of you are quiet, a silent understanding that only comes with time and grace, as you position yourself against the headboard and pat your thighs. 

“Come here, Ben,” you mumble, eager to not break the intricacy of your bubble. “Let me take care of you for a while.” 

Dex’s head begins to blur, the once sharpened edges of his mind now turning fuzzy. There’s no longer any voices calling him from the darkness, just a bright light on the horizon asking him to join her. 

With shaking hands, Dex undresses himself; tie, shirt, trousers landing on the floor unceremoniously as he rushes to be with you. It’s so unlike himself, such a vast display of disorder it would usually make him feel sick. But like any other since coming home, his worries have disappeared. For now at least. 

Crawling onto the bed, Dex makes his way towards you — so inviting, so deliciously tranquil that his heart races. 

You’re sitting there so patiently, with the kindest eyes Dex doesn’t deserve, waiting for him. He doesn’t let himself believe it most days, that you stick around and love every part of him. But you always lift him back up to the surface to remind him that no matter how hard he tries to push you away, you’re not going anywhere. 

Resting his head upon the plushness of your thigh, Dex fuses himself into you, weaving his arms around your waist and holding you as tight as what’s comfortable. 

You hum, content and happy, and begin to comb your fingers through Dex’s hair. Immediately, he exhales a shaky breath. The world has finally come to a stop, and time pauses for the two of you. 

“Feels good, right?” You mutter soothingly at the purr he lets go. Your newly manicured nails scratch Dex’s scalp so good he shivers with pleasure. 

With hooded eyes, Dex grabs your hand carefully and brings your fingernails to his eye level. “Is that the blue I picked out?” 

“It is,” you confirmed. “Do you like it?” 

“Mm,” he grunts, bringing the palm of your hand to his mouth and placing kisses to your soft skin. “Looks pretty on you.” 

Though he’s buried himself into your stomach, Dex already knows the shy smile you’re wearing and the heat that’s rising upon your cheeks. You had texted him a couple of days ago while he was at work, asking for his opinion on a nail design. A French tip in a shade of navy blue. Dex smiles to himself; you had accepted him, no questions asked. He’s not used to that.

Your motions continue, nails smoothing over his head and consistently hitting the sensitive spot from the migraines he experiences. 

Dex closes his eyes and allows himself a small slither of peace — only for a second, he tells himself. He needs his focus both sharp and precise and poured into you; your safety. But your loving touch is too strong that Dex doesn’t realise how heavy his eyes have become, or the concern that furrows your brows. 

“They work you like a dog,” you whisper into the tender atmosphere. “It’s not fair.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he rasps back to you. “I get to come home to you.” 

And Dex means it. It doesn’t matter what work throws at him, the very solid notion that you’re at home, protected and waiting for him trumps anything else. 

But your solemn whisper, one that Dex has a feeling has marinated in your own busy mind while he’s been working later and harder unnerves him. “Until something happens.” 

Though sleep is catching up with him in the cocoon of your warmth, Dex shakes his head vehemently, desperate to reassure you. “Never,” he declares, confidently. “I’lll always come back to you. Need you safe.” 

He hears you swallow the lump in your throat and feels you nod, the manoeuvre crescending down your body. “That’s right, Ben. You keep me safe.”

Dex holds it like a secret. Something so sacred it’s scarred in his mind. You think he’s important. You think he has a purpose. You’ll never understand how your innocent affirmations hold weight in his mind.

“And you keep me sane, Angel.” Sleep catches up to Dex, your touch like a lullaby. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Consciousness waves in and out of Dex’s mind as he succumbs to slumber, but he can rest easy as you tuck the two of you into the sheets and gift him one last kiss to his forehead. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.” 

[raelemond]

Hi. I was wondering if you could point me to resources or forums that’ll help me explore kink. I’ve been holding myself back for a long time and now I don’t even know where to start or how to find community

hi anon, sorry it took so long for me to respond, I've been traveling!

there are a few things you can do. I'll start with what i did, but this is going to vary by country and location. I recommend you start by making a fetlife profile. fetlife is basically kinky facebook, but you don't have to put any information you don't want to on it - I'd just recommend not using a picture of your genitals as your profile picture, those tend to get autobanned from groups.

then, go look for "events" and filter by location - try nearby cities if your area doesn't turn up at first. what you really want is a "munch", which is going to be a group meeting in a public space for kinky people to mingle. you can also filter by education, but I recommend munches first, just to meet people so you can get an idea of what the community is like.

depending on your city, munches can differ by age (35 and under is typically called TNG/The Next Generation - I personally dislike what they stand for, but it's an option depending on your age), interests, gender/sexuality, and location. some are free, some ask you to purchase food from the venue, some ask for donations, and some cost money. the majority take place at bars, which can be an obstacle.

as someone new coming in, particularly if you're young and/or seem to be a woman at first glance, you might get a lot of attention. I'll just suggest that you do NOT play alone with anyone immediately, and people trying to encourage you to stay isolated from the community is a bad sign. anyone trying to say their way is the One True Way is a bad sign.

I played with someone at my first party, which I had been invited to via the munch. At the party, there were DMs who could help if anything went bad.

if searching like this doesn't get you results, I'd suggest going to a local sex toy store, or other adult store, and ask about local kink communities, if any exist. unfortunately my kinky student from Brazil stopped coming in, or I'd ask how to find a community there because she said it's much harder to find people.

I'd also think about what you're interested in and what your limits are. when I first showed up at 18, I freaked people out by saying "I'm up for anything" - in my head, that meant I was interested in discussing most things, or dipping a toe in, but I didn't know how deep kink could go. The boundaries of "anything" were spanking, flogging, and caning for me, along with D/s stuff I barely understood. so, to avoid my mistake, I definitely recommend having some specific things you want to try and ask questions about.

before the lacigreen weirdness happened, she was a really competent sex educator (if not the best for medical advice) so I'm going to point you to this video for a really brief overview. the only thing she gets wrong is that she misses one of the words in BDSM - it's an acronym that stands for six words: bondage, discipline, Dominance/submission, sadism, masochism.

the words kink and bdsm are often used interchangeably, and they mostly are, but you can be into kink without being into D/s, for example.

please feel free to send more specific questions if you want!

[odysseus-day]

how i imagined the thg characters as told through random people i saved on pinterest to visualize

katniss everdeen:

•16-17 years old

•native american ancestry on her dad's side, favors him more than her mother

•long black hair, dark gray eyes, olive skin tone

•5'0-5'1, thin and spindly although not as bad as the rest of the seam because of her ability to hunt

•rbf!!! 🫶

primrose everdeen:

•12-13 years old

•also has native american ancestry on her father's sude, but favors her mother more

•curly dirty blonde hair, gray-ish eyes, fairer skin than katniss but tans dark in the summer

•4'11, similar build to katniss

•the resting bitch face is genetic, she's just good at fooling ppl

•people that draw katniss poc still always manage to make prim just some random looking white girl, and y'all. as someone with indigenous heritage who is also physically pale and dirty blonde, she's still going to have features similar to katniss and her dad's! she's gonna tan well, have the same eye shape, nose shape, etc. katniss as a person of color has always been a mind-boggling discourse in the fandom (bc it's literally canon, racism just keeps winning 💔) but NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT PRIM

peeta mellark:

•16-17 years old

•white blond hair/lashes/eyebrows (like a hairless mole rat 🫶), blue eyes, paler than flour

•5'5, disproportionate broad shoulders, slight athletic build that throws ppl off because of his baby face lol (he looks like a mini fridge!!)

•prosthetic leg!!! everyone always forgets he's an amputee!!!

finnick odair:

•24 years old

•tawny hair that looks bronze underneath the sunlight, blue-green eyes, tan while he's in 4 but gets paler the longer he spends in the capitol

•5'11, similar build to peeta although it looks proportionate with his height (i rlly like the idea of him being stocky and you can pry it out if my cold dead hands)

•the idea of finnick having a very young face is genuinely heartbreaking but i think it fits his character really well and adds so much depth to the way he's treated. he was just a kid when people started fawning over him the first time, and he still is. you perceive these characters as being so old when you're a kid, but as an adult holy fuck i didn't actually realize how young they ALL were until recently. finnick is the same age as one of my best friends. like that's just a lanky kid :(

annie cresta:

•23 years old

•i know the books say brown hair but i still imagined red even before the movies, blue-green eyes, burns more easily than she tans

•5'6-5'7 (i always imagine everyone in the career districts to be much taller than the rest because of their better access to nutrition), had much more muscle pre-games than she does now but still has very strong arms and calves from swimming

•i imagine her with the kind of naturally mischievous looking face to where you'd probably think she was kidding about the whole "losing her mind" thing for the first several weeks of knowing her...... until you realize for yourself that there isn't rlly a punchline to the "bit" you think she's doing.... and... oops?

johanna mason:

•20-21 years old (gah, math is not my strong suit)

•dark brown hair, can never keep a consistent hair style for longer than a month (is constantly cutting, dying, or just changing something at the slightest inconvenience) (yes she's a mid-breakdown bangs chopper), hazel eyes, fair skin with heavy freckles

•5'4, strong arms for ax wielding but stays relatively thin and gangly (due to lack of resources pre-games and later due to stress/depression)

•similar to finnick, i picture her as looking very young. she's not that much older than katniss and only won 2-3 years before her, and with all that she went through i don't see her maturing facially super soon. just like nutrition, stress can also contribute to physical appearance and development, especially in crucial stages of life. and if anything, it makes more sense for johanna to have a baby face with how she won her games (pretending to be weak so she'd be overlooked) and for her anger to be overcompensation to skew her perception to others.

gale hawthorne:

•18-19 years old

•also has native american ancestry, looks eerily similar to katniss which sells the whole cousins thing well

•long black hair always tied back, dark eyes, olive skin tone

•5'7, relatively thin but built better than most of the sean again due to his and katniss' ability to hunt, perceived as tall in district 12 but would be considered shorter in the capitol

[r0-boat]

For last night's stream we streamed a cute little dating sin called "I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE!!"

It was a game cast of mostly girls even the MC and it was very cute.

As you may not or may already know I have a challenge where every after stream I do I make a drabble or headcanons or any writing based on the game I've played! And since the dating sim was very generic at school transfer student I thought I would do the same with WHB!

So enjoy being the human transfer student at an all demon school.

What in hell is bad? Seven Kings X transfer student

Whb high school AU

Mammon's Dad is alive, Solomon is your father these devils are younger than in the Canon games. Strictly an AU for fun silly purposes. All people are adults I don't specify if it's a high school or a college, but if it helps you sleep at night it's college. Solomon is one of those cool teachers that every student loves, Solomon isn't the best father but he is trying.

Cw: very silly, sfw but suggestive, cliche, some mention of sex because of you know who.

Intro:

What the fuck???

Three words screamed into your mind as you look on at the building that was supposedly your school It looked less like a school building and more like a castle. It's even look like the universities all your friends got accepted in. It looked more than that. Like how we would picture a top college like Yale or Harvard would look like if you've never seen or even heard of it before.

You knew that mysterious all expenses paid scholarship was a bad idea. But it wasn't a prank fine print was fine print. And the icing on the cake. Your father Solomon I would never home because of work was the one who sent you the letter.

Whatever they saw in you must be damn good to be able to get a fucking scholarship and a school that looks like this. The courtyard was utterly deserted signaling that everyone was probably already in their classes. You sigh as you walk over to the huge gated fence slowly and struggling to push the giant iron Gates open enough for you to squeeze by. Seriously who the hell are these gates designed for prisoners?!

But as soon as you stepped through the door this school was a different place entirely. It looked so orderly and clean on the outside but on the inside... It looks like a war zone. Cracks and holes in the floor boarded up windows with broken glass scattered about. The place wreaked of cigarettes and weed and alcohol. Just what kind of school was this??

You would soon get your answer when you stepped into your classroom. Handsome yet dangerous looking men stared at you sharp teeth sharp eyes and even sharper horns that adorned their head.

Devils?!

As the teacher also a devil with a tail that fully moved in such a way that you ruled out the possibility of it being fake introduced you.

"This will be our first human transfer student in a long time! And from then on... You're peaceful school life would never be the same.

Satan

Captain of devil's football (cavalry as they call it), His seating is at the back of the room, and it just so happened that next to him was the only open seat. He stared at you intensely with a scary look, with those red eyes piercing into your very soul. Your heart is pounding as you turn over with a timid smile. "H-hey..." But the devil said nothing as he continued the stair. It was like this for a while until he finally said, "yer a human right?" The word stumbled out of you immediately: "Yes!" The devil studies you for a second but a smile widens as he points "I know you! Your Mr Solomon's kid!" Hearing your dad's name you whip your head around "What? Solomon? You know him??" Satan's toothy grin goes wider "fuck yeah I do He's awesome! I never knew you had a kid though! I wonder why...." You didn't know what else to say if your dad was here you natural you had an urge to go see him when he turned to certain age to be on your own he showed up less and less so it was really hard to get into stay in one place. But Satan's energetic words cuts off your train of thought "You're definitely not going to survive here!" You must choked on your own spit. Yeah no shit Sherlock You kind of known from the moment you walked in but still it was just a shocking to hear it from someone else. "Oh yeah especially since your Solomon's child! Everyone's going to be drooling over you. Nah fuck that I'm going to protect you." He grinded his teeth at the mere mentioned And he just decided this instantly no rhyme or reason not that you think anyway. And he was true to his word a lot more than you thought because they were way too many devils that Satan had to show away That being said he didn't even like his own teammates getting too close It kind of sucked if you wanted to make new friends but I guess having scary dog privileges does help if you want to avoid not so nice people. In your short time of knowing Satan you've learned few things One of them being he had a short temper and once he blew his top he exploded like a volcano. Out of sheer anger he picked up a desk and hurdled it at a devil smashing the wall in process. Now you can see why your classmates called him "Lord of Wrath."

Mammon

You met him when he saw a crowd in the schoolyard. You've had extra free time to kill since Satan's desk-throwing stunt blew a hole into the wall of the classroom, which means an hour of free time. The group of devils gathered Drew your curiosity for you to come closer. When you pushed through the crowd you saw a man sitting on a bench He was sculpted like a rugged a mountain His muscular arms folded His legs crossed with a smirk on his face You finally were able to focus on the words they were saying "Lord of Greed something I want to buy but I can't afford-" , "say no more... Say the amount and you may have it"

"Lord of Greed those rings look so gorgeous where did you get them?!"

"Oh these cheap things? Meh the solid gold can't remember how many carrots off the top of my head but if you want it knock yourself out... They're not the best in my collection and honestly been wanting to get rid of them for a while." He looked so casual just taking off a gold ring and tossing it to the devil who asked as if these rings were worth mere pennies to him. That's when his eyes fell upon mine. His smile widened as he scooted to the right opening a seat for me "Oh? You're that human. Come sit with me." As all eyes were on you in an instant peer pressure crushed under your weight like a styrofoam cup as you shuffle toward him as if he was a god and you were a mere peasant.

As soon as you sat down his He leaned back and forth his eyes sculpting you just like a certain devil this morning before saying. "Hm... I like you, You're mine now."

"Excuse me... " You didn't realize you said it out loud until the devil chuckles "I said I like you and I own things that I like... I think humans call it 'relationship' I'm not really familiar with human courting. But you are mine now and I guess That means I am yours too." The group of devils around you too eyes widen like saucers. You had no idea what's going on as the devil's around you whisper material wealth, money,richest person in the world, jealousy This was all going so fast your head was spinning This was the second devil today that just decided that they liked you for no reason at all.

"say... What are your plans for lunch today?" You didn't even get a chance to open your mouth before he talked over you "whatever they are cancel them. You will be having lunch with me a five course meal made fresh by my father's personal chefs." You wanted to talk to say something You didn't even get a word out of your mouth when arms wrap around you and suddenly your transported in other place entirely.

Leviathan

An empty classroom with nothing but desks the same cracked walls a bottle of what you assume is alcohol have has really thrown on the floor and sitting on the desk staring at the window a man with a princely pretty looking face hair with a pearly white color that was mesmerizing to your eyes. But when you turn to look at you that color was all but mesmerizing as he looked at you with pure disgust. "You..." He snarled as he got it from his chair. Making strides toward you You were terrified but you stood your ground Even as he grabbed your face that made you flinch forcing your head left and right. Your eyes squeaks shut before putting your hands on him and pushing him away. He clicked his tongue and snarled. "Weak and annoying pitiful humans and you dare to be related to Solomon."

That struck a nerve. All day you've hadn't said a single word and this devil insulting you was the final straw.

"at least I don't have the personality of a raccoon with rabies your breath smells worse than the garbage you ate this morning."You snapped back at that moment you regarded little for your safety of what this devil could do to you No one talks to you or your family like that. Especially not assholes like him. The devil's eyes went wide for a second only to scrunch back up and click his tongue. "Just watch your back human..." He hissed storming up the classroom. First day and you made an enemy Great.... You definitely can't wait to get bullied by demons.

Beelzebub

You met him on the way to one of your classes getting chewed out by a teacher. You couldn't know but watch as the man with a single horn just nonchalantly leaned against the wall as the teacher went off on him: "You're the future Lord of Abyssos... You have to take this seriously! You're missing a lot of classes....!!!" But to the Lord of Gluttony, all this information went in one ear and out the other. When the teacher finally stormed off that's when he realized you had eavesdropped way more than you should have. When your eyes met, He smiled and pulled you into the room.

"hey haven't seen you before...hmm... You're Solomon's kid right?" He said his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leans near your face. " Um yeah. " You just accepted that probably every person in the school knows now.

"Hell ya." Please smile before something seemingly distracted him That's when he held the back of your head and leaned your head in burying his nose and your hair. Instinctually you pulled back. " Sorry sorry It's just, wondering where that smell was coming from so I thought I'd take a sample from you." with his arms still around your waist He got up from leaning against the desk walking out of the classroom dieting you God knows where. "One thing about devils. Is that if we like something we like to get 'intimate' with that thing. " He smirked and the way the word intimate rolled off the tongue major eyebrows furrow. You're not quite sure what he meant by that and honestly part of you is too scared to ask. " Where are you taking me?" You said half wanting to change the subject. "Cafeteria where else?"

"But it's not lunch?"

"pft so?" Beelzebub chuckled as if you were worried about skipping class as a mere funny joke. "You worry too much. You're Solomon's kid. The teachers won't do anything, trust." Even though You are the kid of someone who apparently was extremely popular in this school and left a bad taste in your mouth to know you were getting special treatment. And you were practically being yanked along by this random devil, so you couldn't really do anything well, not if you worried about your safety. You still remember Satan hurdling the desk like it was nothing.

Lucifer

Remember Leviathan well unlucky for you he remembered you. When Beelzebub was taking way too long to get simple drinks to bring back to you to the empty pafeteria You decided to say fuck it and just walk back to class. And does he walk through the empty hallway you stopped and that's when you saw him. His scowling face made your heart drop.

Here is a fun fact about devils you learned when you just tried to turn around and walk away. They know magic as a tendril coming up from seemingly nowhere wrapped around your neck and yanked you backward toward him when his hands grabbed your shoulders. He yanked you and slammed you against the lockers, pinning you, his face hovering over yours. "I saw you hanging out with those other dimwits... "You're not sure why, but you know exactly who he was talking about. " Someone like you shouldn't be around people like them. He hissed as you felt his fingers dig into your shoulders as he pinned you harder and harder against the lockers. When you tried to lift your arms to push him, those tendrils returned, wrapping around your arms and slamming them against the locker. His hand slid from your shoulders to your waist. And now you're confused... "You're just a weak human remember that." He got close to your face grinding his teeth before using his limbs to throw you to the side.

It wasn't until he was gone that you noticed The pain in your wrist and blood dripping from the cut. You sigh as you decide to take a trip to the nurse's office if the devil's even had one.

They compared this school's other rooms to those in the disaster state. This one seems clean, untouched... Dare you say professional? The only one working was a baby blonde-haired man sitting at a desk, spinning around a pen between his nimble fingers. When he looked up he noticed the blood dripping from your wrist he shot up before you could even say anything He gently takes your hand. "Your hurt. come with me." Wrapping a hand around your waist guiding you to one of the beds in the nurse's office as if your cut was more dire than it was when he sat you down he immediately grabbed the bandages and started to wrap you up.

"You're the transfer student aren't you?" He asked which you only nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Lucifer I believe we share one class together?" Wow an actual introduction, All day you've gotten no introductions all their names you learned by word of mouth or other devils introducing them for you.

"Oh." Slipped from your mouth with more surprise than you wanted to, and Lucifer's Stern face curled up slightly. "Thought I was a teacher?" You just nodded your head. "I get that a lot. Not many students come here since they're all devils, so I got this place for myself. I don't even think we have a nurse; I'd hate to see anyone get hurt. " Huh That's sweet. From what you had been witnessing all day something like this was definitely a rarity. When he was finished wrapping your wrist he saw you out as quickly as you came in.

Belphegor

It wasn't even the end of the day yet and you were being yanked in every direction by everyone in the school devil's flocked to you looking at you with curiosity or hunger (You're not sure which one it was)

So you escape to the only place you know, where you constantly come up when you know you can be away from people. The rooftop. As you walked closer to one of the benches to sit down and eat, you failed to realize someone already held that spot who was sleeping soundly until he woke up with a yawn and a stretch. "Hrm?" He hummed, rubbing his tired eyes and looking at you as you just stood there frozen in place with enough awkwardness to kill a man. He pointed at you. "You c'mere." He said his voice low and husky. He made the motion with his finger. From your experience with being dragged around all day, You probably shouldn't accept this man's request as, knowing your luck, you would just get dragged into more drama or trouble. But you did interrupt his nap, and all things considered, he didn't look like he was in too much trouble. So you stepped closer. He left the bench next to him, and since there was nowhere to sit, It was your only option. As soon as you sat down, he laid back down, his head resting on your lap. Turning from his back to his side, he muttered, "You're comfortable. Stay like this fo'me, Would ya? " He asked you to fall asleep instantly. You don't know why, but this touched your heart, kinda a moment of tranquility as you place you eat your lunch, gazing at the world below. You were surprised to know how fast he went to sleep. Knowing your luck he was probably another Lord, And you could guess he must be the Lord of sloth. You know you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it. It's not like he would wake up to you running your fingers through his hair, reveling in how unexpectedly soft his locks were. Out of the hellish day you dealt with this, it was nice.

And it only got worse once lunch break actually rolled around as that's when Beelzebub Mammon and Satan saw each other and realized that they were after you as well to spend their lunch together.

Fun fact that you learned about devils when you had the displeasure of seeing your two classmates making out in the hallway while every student ignored them. Devils have no sense of shame or a lack thereof. They just do whatever they want when they want, which explains why the school rules about alcohol, weed, and other miscellaneous drug substances you have found throughout the day were so Lax. And another fun fact you learned about devils... It is that they are very territorial, apparently. You saw it first hand, as when Beelzebub wrapped an arm around you, Satan puffed up and hissed like a cat as he ripped him off you. You were lucky you escaped the scene, as when Mammon made a comment about How short Satan was, He exploded and tried to lunge at him.

Asmodeus

Was it too late to drop out??? You thought it was the end of the day, and you were beyond exhausted. And these lords did not stop either. You thought you could meet up with your dad if the bell rang. You wish you could call him, but sadly, that was off the table since your dear father had little to no interest in Mobile technology. The only one he ever had was a flip phone just to get a phone number. You swore a phone call with him was like torture as you had to listen to more static than his voice. Other devils told you and confirmed that he had his own personal office somewhere. If it wasn't for the big ass school, you would have been okay with trying to find his office, but sadly, you were already wandering around the school to stop now. When you walked by, you noticed the janitor's slightly open call. When you got closer, you snuck into the closet, and your eyes widened. A devil, no two devils... No three?? It's getting a little hot and under the collar in there. Grinding and bugging their hips against each other when you accidentally made a noise, the black-haired devil who was sandwiched between the other two noticed your presence. Your soul jumped out of your skin as you ran as fast as you could in the other direction. If he was another Lord, he was 100% the Lord of Lust, and you wanted nothing to do with him. But it seemed like he wanted everything to do with you as you kept wandering around the school, trying to purge that memory from your mind. You felt arms wrap around you. You shrieked and jumped backward turning to notice a familiar face. His smirk and disheveled clothes and hair shivered up your spine as your trembling voice fell from your lips. "Oh, it's you... What do you want?" Asmodeus giggled. "My, aren't you cute? I've never seen someone look at me with such frightened disgust."

He was practically undressing you with his eyes. Eye molesting... Whatever it was you didn't like how he looked at you. "Never in my thousands of years has someone looked at me with such... Such a 'curious expression.' You're Solomon's spawn? " At this point, so many devils have asked You throughout the day you just nod your head now in acceptance.

"I knew it. You even have his gorgeous eyes. And his sexier features that I've always admired from afar. "

What the fuck, please don't fuck my dad!? You screamed in your head. But since he was talking to you maybe he could tell you where he was since it looked like he would know a little too much "Do you-Do you know where he is?"

Their smirk only widened as he pulled you close against him. His body pressed against yours. You ground your teeth to stop from screaming as he whispered into your ear. "I do but what's my payment? You don't seem to have any on you..." He said his hands rubbing up and down the sides of your body. Before you could do anything else, you probably beat the shit out of him like you used to do with kidnappers when you were a kid. He pulls away and laughs like what he did was the funniest thing in the world.

"I'm just kidding sweetheart, You just look so cute I couldn't help but tease you. Yeah his office is on the next floor It has a purple rug can't miss it."

It's like the stress left your body as you sighed. You gave him a smile before leaving, but when you turned around, you swear to God you heard him say, " I think I'm in love..."

Bonus

You have to fight off tears when he mutters your name in a broken string of sentences, dreaming of the past when you were in diapers. You took his coat hanging from the chair and draped it over him before leaving his office

When you finally saw his office and walked inside, it looked like an old antique shop as all kinds of knick-knacks and antiques decorated the old wood shelves, and on his desk were stacks of paper, and your beloved father was caged between all those papers. Now you understand why he's always so busy as he was passed out on the desk. You are upset that you didn't get to talk to him, but you would probably get the chance tonight as you are living with him now, you understand. You never knew your mother, and to take care of you, He had to move out of the house and into an apartment, working his ass off day and night just to keep a roof over your head.

[urautismdiagnosis-wistie]

Hi i am new here did you have nay head canons for little kwazii and calico jack interactions because i really need some cj and kwazii time

(Loved your head canons and i will going to read about the au after that)

<click for higher quality>

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON MY DARLING ORANGE CATS :> ( feel free to share ur thoughts in comments <3)

First off I just wanna say that they are KINDRED SPIRITS

Canonically cj (calico jack) is extremely patient,understanding, and gentle with kwazii. Hes extremely generous, even giving his own golden treasures to decorator crabs who needed them for protection, with little hardship. The treasures he cared most about was literally KWAZIIS BABY PICTURE BOOK-

Even when kwazii was so little and Itty bitty that he couldn't talk he still gravitated towards his grandad!he was huge and giant and let kwazii climb all over him even when his tiny claws dug into him!

More under the cut, they make me want to cry

He had a big hat and pete the parrot was his best friend!!! And once when kwazii was little and he was collecting treasure for him momma (shells and sea glass <3) a HUGGGEEE SNAKE MONSTER tried to eat him! But CJ saved him!!! Cj saved him and laughed kindly to the snake before setting it off with a stern warning. He wasn't even in big trouble either, he just got some tips, some candy, and was made to promise to always be care and use his ears.

He felt safe.

Cj was always there to listen to his yapping and yammering and genuinely care and use it as opportunities to teach him lessons and about the world. He really did help him appreciate the smallest details of the world and how to be gentle with the world and all of its creatures.

Cj also had a tradition with all kittens and kiddos he knew, and that was treasure hunting 🗣 during it, bot only would he spend time with the lil ones one on one, but he'd also teach them survival and tracking skills!!! Definitely was very useful to kwazii

About how cj saw kwazii though? Oh kwazii was a spark of life itself-

Kwazii adored calico jack. Kwazii wanted to show him everything! Kwazii was so little yet he seemed to care and and takeevery little lesson cj tried to share so seriously!!! He'd worry if his own shadow was lonely and he's tried to make sure the sea birds on the ship knew they were welcome to play swords with him too. Of course those sentiments and ideas weren't exactly plausible, but it was the heart behind them.

Honestly? It reminded him of maddie in a way. How fiercely in love she was with her people. But kwazii took it even further since it seemed like he was in love with every single aspect of the entire world. And he just kept growing day by day too.

They just understood eachother in a very special way, and they made eachother even more alive.

Cj was known as a more free spirit, often doing his own treasure hunts on his lonesome. There were some times where he took kwazii along, but for longer trips kwazii had to stay with the rest of their family. But cj understood kwaziis need for exploration and freedom, the same kind that a bird feelings and needs when it takes off to fly. And kwazii knew cj understood too.

Cj also always made kwazii laugh too

[cherrreid]

𝓒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𓉘 ❤︎ 𓉝

ᝰꪑ 700 followers event !

౨ৎ WHAT’S CHERRY BOMB ABOUT ?

welcome to the cherry bomb event ━ where viana’s got a whole lineup of options ( fanfics , moots interactions etc ) waiting just for you! ++ a __core for viana's moots !! ( moots interactions are at the vvvvv end )

REQUEST DEADLINE : : THE 22ND OF MAY

i won't respond right away, the results will be on the 26th of may & will end somewhere in june.

++ reblogs would be very much appreciated ( because viana keeps spam posting &&& will prolly lose this. )

alternative blog / criminal minds blog : @reidscherrygirl

౨ৎ WHAT ARE THE FANFIC OPTIONS ?

HYACINTH — X READER ❪ blurbs , headcanons ❫

SUNFLOWER — SELFSHIP / OC ❪ headcanons ❫

౨ৎ WHO CAN PARTICIPATE ?

೯⁺ 𖥻 moots

೯⁺ 𖥻 followers

౨ৎ HOW DOES IT WORK ?

x reader is already a given ━ but the rest of the options are pretty similar to it. send me an ask with a detailed description of you or your oc’s personality (be as specific as you can!). no anons, sorry! if your ask doesn’t include a clear personality or if it’s sent anonymously, i won’t be writing it. since this event includes a selfship option, knowing who you are is a must! ( i will send further instructions for the headcanons for selfship )

I WILL WRITE FOR... criminal minds ( will be published in @reidscherrygirl ), detective comics , marvel , weak hero , the naturals , the hunger games , riordanverse , shatter me , agggtm , ouabh , the inheritance games , boys of tommen , bttm , betting on you , the do-over , invincible , the umbrella academy

I WILL WRITE...

fluff , angst , light smut .

I WILL NOT WRITE...

extreme smut , kinks , incest , yandere .

౨ৎ REQUIREMENTS ! ( what you really need to specify )

pronouns

sexuality

f/o + their fandom (refer to list !!)

what questions you want me to answer (( for the headcanons ))

a description of you/your oc’s personality & appearance.

don't over specify reader !! just the idea / scenario

౨ৎ HEADCANONS OPTIONS !

DAISY — send me an au / idea ! ( for example , character x doctor!reader , doctor! character x reader , doctor! character x doctor!reader , highschool au , etc )

LILY — you’ll select a maximum of four questions ( or five for mooties ) you’d like me to answer about your selfship.

QUESTIONS :

1.) how did you meet

2.) what was your/their first impression of them/you

3.) who confessed first

4.) how did they realize they loved you

5.) who fell first / who fell harder

6.) describe your first date

7.) any pet names for each other?

8.) how do they show love

9.) what’s their favorite way to make you smile

10.) what’s their love language

11.) how do they comfort you when you’re upset

12.) have you ever had a big fight

13.) what would break their heart

14.) do they ever feel they don’t deserve you

15.) what lengths would they go to protect you

16.) what’s a silly thing you two argue about

17.) what’s your ideal vacation together

18.) who takes more pictures of the other

19.) favourite activity together?

20.) what's it like having a family with them?

౨ৎ INTERACTIONS !

viana will answer this one anytime until the 22nd ( tw : opinions )

MINOR ౨ৎ a fictional character that reminds me of you ( moots )

SOUR ౨ৎ i will give you a music artist ( both )

BEWITCHED ౨ৎ a letter from me 2 u ! ( moots )

SHORT N' SWEET ౨ৎ i will dm u one of my socials ! ( moots )

SO CLOSE TO WHAT ౨ৎ i'll give you a trope + character ( moots )

SONGS ౨ৎ a song that reminds me of you/gives off your vibes ( both )

MIDNIGHTS ౨ৎ a animal i associate with you ( both )

LOVER ౨ৎ who you'd date in the fandom ( both )

the moots interactions event was inspired by @lovethornes !

the fanfics were also inspired by someone,,, i forgot. so im vvvv sorry !!

cherries : : @bloodwrittenletters , @yeoniverseee , @petalbcrnes , @laufeysgoddess , @jjsblueberry , @rainforcsts , @lovethornes , @shattered-glass-roses , @reidsprettygirl , @xoxorory , @pjxcksonswrd , @cinnamongrl2006

[nonepizzawithleftfanfic]

I've been meaning to research what kind of injury Matthew had forever. Also Tom - because what do you mean he was declared medically unfit and it just never came up again. Though the latter isn't very relevant for this AU because Tom isn't around.

Another idea I had was that Sybil would take care of Matthew while he recovers from his injury, and it's what makes her realise she wants to take up nursing again. Which adds to the ever-growing number of things now straining her relationship with her parents.

I can totally see people downstairs reacting pretty viscerally to the traitor thing! dk why, but I'm seeing Moseley as reacting similar to Carson, maybe? He also feels very "king and country" to me. And tbh William too if he's alive.

I'm thinking that some people also might consider the verdict unjustified? Because no one died, no one even got hurt. They "only" did some arson. The judgement was very political, and that might not sit right with everyone. In Canon, they agreed to let Sybil and Tom be because they didn't want to create marytrs. Maybe here, they wanted to make an example out of them. Sybil thinks so, definitely. Maybe Matthew too. He was always the one most sympathatic to Tom. And I feel Daisy would start sharing that opinion once she starts getting more political. Which if William and Daisy are married in this AU...

(Btw, I am imagining William as Matthews valet and Moseley as Isobels butler, because that's my go-to hc for universes where William survives. I just really like his and Matthews reationship lol.)

I love Sybil and Sinéad! Imagine Sybil sharing with Sinéad how it feels like Tom didn't trust her because he didn't tell her about going to the meetings, and Sinéad is like: "Sybil darling, you know I love you. He was trying to shield you from the consequences if they got caught, dummy."

Wait, Blakes baronetcy is in Ireland? Didn't realise that. That definetly opens up plot points. And them hearing they have inherited and basically going "let's get to work" is a really nice picture. I think Downton would be safe by then. They have seen it through the worst already. And it's been long enough that Matthew has come out of the mist and has started pulling his own weight again. So it's not all left to Robert this time, which makes both of the feel more optimistic about Downtons chances xD. They are still going to keep an eye on it from afar though

I like Sybil steering Rose into politics. She was kind of on her way already with her work with thre Russian refugees I think. After Ross breaks of the engagement, Sybil kind of starts directing her anger about that. Like, you know Ross said he wouldnt have let her go if they lived in an even slightly better world? Sybil would maybe be like "You're in pain now, but you can try to work for a world where someone else doesn't have to feel it." I think that's something that would resonate with Rose. And when Sybil gets exaspareted with her tendency to flirt everyone, Rose'd be like "You're a hypocrite, you married Tom." And Sybil would have to explain: "I married Tom because I loved him, not to piss of my mother, there's a difference." Sybil would be the first person Rose told about Atticus, and their most vocal supporter.

AU where instead of Sybill and Matthew, it's Tom and Mary that die.

[theloveinc]

OlderDad!Bakugou who gets a haircut and his baby doesn't recognize him and he doesn't want his dad to pick him up 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bakugou has a cry in the bathroom and you have to spend the rest of the night consoling him.

Also Hiiiiiii, miss u, hope youre gooooood

head in my hands bc of this, just thought abt bakugo growing out his hair a little bit right after baby's birth...takes him months to go and get a real haircut cuz he doesn't wanna burden you more than he already has and by the time he's okay with the thought (but only for "AN HOUR MAX," is what he says), he has a mullet thing going on and all this scruff on his chin🥺🥺🥺

so he gets home with his regular ol' haircut, maybe a little shorter just to account for ... not wanting to go again so soon, and baby's HOLLERING bloody murder as soon as they see him and refusing to be taken out of your arms, doing that thing where they're flipping their face back and forth to dodge a kiss...

it's so tragic bc not even a little cheek nuzzling helps to calm them bc bakugo's CLEAN SHAVEN and smells like aftershave instead of like dad when he tries!!!!!!

and after, you watch him kinda sulk into the bathroom, thinking like aw yeah thats a bummer but also pretty funny, too (esp bc the haircut does look good🫣🤓), AND HE DOESN'T COME OUT FOR LIKE an hour???

....until you finally have to ask him if he's okay in there and you're opening the door to him sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed and red cheeks a little streaky with tears...

LJFKASDJFADSJK it's the cutest, most sad sight you ever did see!! ofc Bakugo tries to deny it, but the way he tears up again (after you're done assuring him he did nothing wrong) when his baby finally realizes it's him and smiles (and then how he refuses to give them up again until bedtime) has his ass. EXPOSED.

(i love and miss u more than air, earth, water, dirt + HOPE YOU'RE GOOD TOO BESTIE ILY)

[im-kinno-hello]

and if i made a comic about them making a blog for the weird demon dog they found in the woods just because they are being brainwashed by it and it told them they need to spread the word of what word they don’t even fucking know?

[imerian]

Vr46 academy keychains

Set of five charms that all match in different ways

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 . ✦　　˚　

Open for detailed pictures of each one

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

˖⁺‧₊˚⭒✮⭒˚₊‧⁺˖

. ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗

I ran out of tags so I'll say it here but i would greatly appreciate a reblog, especially if you share your thoughts on these pieces in tags (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(Also i forgot that bez have matching part with luca so I didn’t add that to tags sorry

[hell0mega]

"but it's pretty!"

trying something new after hearing what his crush's fave color was

maybe it's working too well (bonus under the cut 👀):